#also i just realized calling it sin makes it sound like smut?

[paranormalplanet]

you know you're serious about a fic when you pull open google maps, start doing math, and have over 300 words of just "bare-bones" outline and not actually started on the chapters

[simpjaes]

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 

 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

 You really seem to be enjoying this. 

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 

No one would even know. 

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 

“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 

Oh. Oh. 

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 

You’ve gotten wetter. 

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 

No. 

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

 He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?” 

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

[anto-pops]

A Torrid Arrangement - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: You and Sebastian have had a 'friends-with-benefits' dynamic going on for close to a year now, and the more time passes, the harder it is for him to hide his true feelings for you. It's an unbearable kind of torment, but he forces himself to grin and bear it anyway to preserve the integrity of his... situation-ship with you. That is, until the metaphorical floodgates finally open up.

Alternatively summarized as gratuitous FWB smut with lots of playful banter sprinkled in

This came from the depths of my fever-induced brain so if its all over the place, I apologize. But YAY MORE SMUT !!

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, lots of hickies

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 with more informative tags, as per usual :))

Sebastian knew it was going to be one of those days before he was even fully conscious. 

He jolted awake from an extremely graphic wet dream at the ass crack of dawn, hard and sweaty and tangled in the sheets, already reaching beside himself for the body that had just been pressed against his own. The dream had been so real– so incredibly vivid– that he swore he could still taste the familiar, salty skin on the tip of his tongue. He’d been so fucking close too; buried deep between soft thighs, clinging tight with every fiber of his being when reality had come and butt its ugly, unwelcome head in. 

With a ragged, disappointed groan, Sebastian let his head fall back against his pillow and dragged his hands down his flushed face, graciously allowing himself a few minutes to sort himself out. 

This was far from the first wet dream he’d had about you, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. Hell– you gave Sebastian’s thirsty subconscious plenty of material to work with every time you came around to ‘relieve stress’. Being long-standing fuck buddies with you granted him that lucious priviledge. Sebastian knew damn well how good you felt holding onto him, what you sounded like when you were about to come, what your heated, sweat-slick skin tasted like. 

He also knew how fucking cute you could be— especially when you were sprawled across his bed in his dorm with a textbook open beneath you to sneakily segue from studying together to fooling around. He knew how badly he wanted to spread you out across his sheets and make you moan for hours– to worship your perfect body slowly and sweetly with his hands and his mouth. 

It was barely past dawn and Sebastian already knew he was going to be tracking you down at some point today to act on his urges. As always, he would be hiding his monstrous crush under a thick layer of casual booty call. 

—

Whenever Sebastian woke up like this– nerves stretched paper thin over a desperate craving for intimacy– dueling was one of the few things that helped him clear his head and get his shit together. He wasn’t exactly a morning person, and he was even less of a people person at such a ripe, early hour, but he’d still left the confines of his dorm to make the trek to the Crossed Wands courtyard. 

There were no students in this area of the castle at this time, which just meant he would be making do with the practice dummies for a few hours until his blood cooled within his veins. Spell after spell fired from his wand and struck hard and true against the wooden figurines that lined the walls, the sound echoing off the Clock Tower walls and drowning out his incessant, horny thoughts. 

Thoughts that revolved too much around how nice your thighs would look with dark imprints of his teeth all over them. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Sebastian unleashed a particularly aggressive Confringo charm in a bid to expel his sinful train of thought. The dummy erupted in an explosion of wooden bits and flaming embers, and as it collapsed to the stone floor in a mangled heap, the brunet realized that there was in fact one other person on school grounds awake– and they just so happened to be walking right towards him. 

He could practically hear fate howling with laughter at his expense when he dimly registered that not only did he know this lone survivor, it was against all probability none other than you, because why the fuck not. 

You were stomping through the outer courtyard with a few textbooks clutched tight in your white-knuckled grip, looking equal parts distracted and deliciously disheveled from a distance. Your mind had to be as scattered as his was, because you clearly didn’t notice Sebastian or the on fire training dummy as you strode through the open clock tower gate. He did his best to play it cool when you finally made eye contact with him, trying exceptionally hard to not look like he’d just jacked off to the way dream-you squirmed under him not twenty minutes prior. 

“Hey, you,” Sebastian called out smoothly when your hurried pace slowed down at the sight of him. You shook your head as though to clear it, squinting at him harder as you evenly stalked up to him, and your frown became more and more apparent the closer you got. Everything about your demeanor screamed ‘wild Graphorn, do not approach’, but Sebastian had never been great at following directions. 

You raked one of your hands through your wild hair as you finally came to stop a few feet away, panting slightly as you stared up at him as though you weren’t entirely sure he was real. “Sebastian?” 

The man in question cocked a brow at you, giving you a quick once over. Your hair was definitely mussed more than usual, a few stray strands falling over your forehead while others stuck up on one side– as if you’d been combing your fingers through it all night. There was no missing the mildly insane glint in your bloodshot eyes, and you were slightly paler than normal. Sebastian was also pretty sure you’d been wearing the same blouse yesterday, if the tiny stain on the collar was any indication. 

If you didn’t look so damned grumpy, Sebastian would swear he’d just caught you in the middle of a walk of shame. The mere idea sent a sharp pang of jealousy straight through his core, and he had to bite his tongue to stifle the snide comment that threatened to fall from his lips. He failed, opting to instead poke the metaphorical bruise and deal with the throbbing ache doing so would bring him. 

“Someone didn’t go to her dorm last night,” he snickered, aiming a crooked grin down at you. “Congrats on getting lucky.” 

Normally he would expect you to just roll your eyes and punch him in the shoulder before ribbing him back. But as Sebastian watched your eyes widen at the same time your face flushed several different shades of red, he couldn’t help but wonder if poking the metaphorical Graphorn before the sun was even fully up was a good idea. 

“I was not getting lucky,” you hissed at him, one eye twitching. Sebastian raised his hands in mock surrender before sticking his wand back in his pocket, awkwardly shifting on his feet for a moment as you huffed out an agitated sigh. “I’ve been getting fucked for the last twelve hours by Professor Sharp’s assignment– fifteen pages on the origin and uses of Wiggenweld. I’m not even sure if most of what I’ve written comes off as real English, so don’t fucking chuckle at me about getting lucky, you ass.” 

Sebastian just stared at you silently, watching you fume. He’d pulled plenty of all-nighters with you before, so he knew full well that after a certain amount of sleep deprivation and stress, you had a tendency to lose your shit in addition to your filter. “Ah,” he mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, only hesitating for a second. 

After all, he just so happened to know exactly how you liked to relieve your stress. 

He licked his lips quickly before he said, “You, uh… kinda look like you could stand to get lucky, huh?” 

Your nostrils flared slightly as you squinted up at him for a long minute instead of responding. It might have looked like a murderous face to anyone else, but Sebastian knew better, and he could practically hear the gears in your head clanking together as you weighed the offer. 

“…I mean, if you’re not doing anything else,” you finally muttered, your tense shoulders dropping a smidge. 

He gestured loosely to the demolished pile of wood on the ground. “I’m not anymore,” came his fluid reply, and before you could take note of the smoking remnants of the training dummy, Sebastian’s hand was grasping yours tight as he tugged you along behind him. You blearily blinked the fatigue from your eyes as you fell into step beside him, and the brunet tried his very best not to let on how extremely pleased he was.

—

Halfway to Sebastian’s dorm, you’d interrupted his hurried pace and directed him to the Room of Requirement in an attempt to avoid any awkward run-ins with his roommates. The absolute last thing you wanted to deal with on top of your Potion’s related irritation was prying eyes, and you already knew the Slytherin dorms would be chock full of those. 

Upon entering the more private space atop the Astronomy Tower, you threw aside your textbooks on the lone side table next to the double doors and spun around to yank Sebastian into a frantic, needy kiss. Your nails dug into his firm shoulders as you swiftly pulled him down to your level, and he allowed you to grind your hips against his steadily growing erection as his own fingers dug into the small of your back. 

“H-Hey, hold on,” Sebastian wheezed out when you pulled away to tug at his belt, and his hands dropped to your waist to hold you at arms length so he could look you over again. As the two of you had trekked up to the Room, you’d begun to look more and more exhausted— too out of it to even gripe about the endless staircase that never failed to draw complaints from you. “Are you sure you’re up for this right now? You look like death.” 

You snorted and rolled your tired eyes, pursing your lips in blatant disapproval. “Nagging, Sebastian? Really? I thought we were past this.” 

“I’m not nagging,” he grumbled. “I’m just saying, you kinda look like you need a nap more than you need a quick fuck.” 

Tutting disdainfully, your hands fell away from his belt as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I was just starting to loosen up. See if I ever relax around your ass again,” you retorted drily, tilting your head back to blink up at the ceiling. “The assignment is due before lunch today. If I sleep now, I’m not waking up until tomorrow. I can’t sleep yet.”

Sebastian tilted his head with a thoughtful frown, mirroring your stance by crossing his arms over his own chest. “What if I wake you up?” 

You shook your head dutifully, although you were sorely tempted by the idea. “Trust me, I can feel the impending coma. I can’t risk it.”

“Want me to turn your paper in for you?”

Another mournful shake of your head. “You know Sharp, he’s as stern as they come. I’m positive he wouldn’t take it from you– and I’m sure he’d give you detention for trying. It’s fine, I just need to tough it out for a few more hours. Think you can help with that?” 

“Shit, yeah,” he relented, fighting the urge to bury his face in your messy head of hair. Instead he opted for uncrossing his arms to run his hands up your shoulders to gently squeeze at the tense muscles there, and you sighed at the delightful shiver that danced up your spine from the action. “I’m really not trying to kill you, though. Are you sure you’re good for this?” 

You snorted again, shaking your head slightly, and the tension in your upper body began seeping away under Sebastian’s warm palms. “Are you always this sweet to your fuck buddies?” The brunet could feel himself flushing at the statement, but before he could respond, you were muttering, “It’s really weird coming from you.” 

“Hey–”

“Just shut up and fuck me already,” you barked over Sebastian’s protest, pulling away from him to head further into the massive space towards the modest bedroom in the corner. The adjacent room had never disappeared after your first hook-up here with your longtime companion, and its constant existence since then had served as an odd reminder of your arrangement with the man. 

If you weren’t so stiff and weird from exhaustion, Sebastian could honestly convince himself that you were embarrassed or something. For now, though, he simply chalked your jaded nature up to your lack of a filter and stalked after you– totally not obsessing over the fact that you’d just called him sweet. 

You’d been undoing the buttons on your shirt as you walked, and as soon as you made it inside the bedroom, you stripped the material off completely and discarded it in the corner of the room. Your skirt quickly followed, and all the while Sebastian was forcing himself not to think about how nice dream-you’s skin had looked tangled in his dream-sheets. 

Sebastian stood in the doorway as he began unbuttoning his own shirt, shucking the attire off of his shoulders before moving down to his belt. The metal clink of the buckle was enough to draw your attention, and you fell back onto the mattress and scooted up towards the pillows without taking your eyes off him. The eager look in your fatigued eyes was enough to spur Sebastian onward quicker, and before long he was dressed in only his briefs as he prowled towards the bed with a predatory glint in his eyes. 

The way you were sprawled atop the sheets with your arms resting above your head was a sight Sebastian vowed to commit to memory for as long as he lived. You were clearly giving him free reign over your body, and his mouth ran dry at the realization that you were wholly handing control over to him. He swallowed thickly and moved to straddle your hips, leaning over you on his forearms so he could better slot your lips together, and after a few tentative pecks, his boldness started to grow. You sighed and tilted your chin into Sebastian’s kisses, parting your lips invitingly as you melted into the cool, satin sheets beneath you. 

With as tired and as boneless as you were, it seemed like you might actually be patient for once, and the thought had Sebastian’s heart fluttering excitedly. More often than not, he was so susceptible to your impatience and intensity that he always found himself getting swept up in your urgency when the two of you did this. Not that he didn’t love it; the dire, rough pace he’d always settle into with you, all gasping moans and tightly-gripped hands and frantic, needy thrusts– he absolutely loved it. It kept him hooked and craving more, even when you were both panting and sated. This, though…

Having you give up the lead and just relax for him was like a literal wet dream come to life. 

Tangling your tongues with a low moan, Sebastian leaned into you slightly, his hands shifting to rub slowly up your sides until his deft fingers slipped under your arched back to unhook your bra. It fell away like nothing, and you moaned against his lips when the pads of his thumbs came to graze over your pert nipples. Your sleep-deprived loopiness had to be contagious, because Sebastian pulled away from your lips to mouth hotly against your ear, “I dreamt about you last night.” 

He didn’t get the chance to feel weird about admitting it. You chuckled warmly, your kiss-swollen lips curving into a crooked, amused smile. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, pausing to suck gently at your earlobe while his thumbs idly traced the outline of your ribs. He brushed his lips down the angle of your jaw, exhaling shakily when you leaned your head aside to freely offer him the wonderfully sensitive expanse of your neck. Sebastian lightly dragged his teeth down the soft, heated skin, then flicked his tongue over the faded imprint of the last hickey he’d left there. It was barely noticeable now. 

You shivered at the feeling, your fingers twisting in the sheets above your head before you sighed contentedly. “Was I pulling my hair out about Potions?”

“Fuck no.” He nipped at the faint bruise before pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse, sucking just enough to briefly tease you. “I had you under me like this,” he continued softly, pitching his voice low and nuzzling into your ear again, purposely aiming to press your buttons and work you into a needy frenzy. He felt your breath hitch more than he heard it, and as a sly grin broke out across his face, Sebastian slipped his fingers up your chest to pinch at your nipples once again. “I was fucking you nice and slow, making you feel so good…”

Moaning softly, you arched up into Sebastian’s hands, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as he teased and flicked the sensitive nubs into stiff peaks. Your hips inadvertently rocked up against his as you desperately sought friction in the area you wanted it most. “Sounds like you’ve already got a game plan, huh?”

He sat back on his heels to look down at you as he shrugged. “If you’re up to it,”

“Just don’t let me fall asleep,” you mused, your hooded eyes trailing down Sebastian’s tanned, freckled chest to his dark briefs, halting when you caught sight of his cock straining against the cotton material. The sight had you licking your lips and fidgeting slightly before you blinked back up at him. “This paper is worth a quarter of my grade.” 

“I won’t. Merlin– you worry too much.” Sitting upright with an amused shake of his head, Sebastian rolled off of you to sidle down the mattress so he was kneeled comfortably between your outstretched legs. Your hands fell to your thin underwear, ready to peel them away to get a move on with things, but Sebastian swatted away your appendages quickly. With a half-hearted scowl, you relinquished control, allowing your arms to rest above your head again as you once more bared yourself to the larger man. 

Sebastian groaned softly at the sight, continuing where you’d left off by slipping his fingers under the waistband of your undergarments before tugging the damp fabric away from your aching center. You lifted your knees to assist him, and in one swift motion he had discarded the soiled attire over his shoulder, taking care to drag his eyes down the supple curve of your waist before settling on your glistening folds. 

“Damn, darling,” he moaned earnestly. “You look so fucking perfect like this.” You huffed softly as you hooked your legs around Sebastian’s hips to tug him closer, and he hummed at the same time he looped one of his hands under your thigh to hold you to him as he rocked against your slick core. The friction was tantamount to perfection, but you craved more, and Sebastian knew it too. 

Before you could open your mouth to complain, the freckled man ducked to press hot, wet kisses down the line of your throat, sucking and biting as he made his way down your shoulder past your collarbone. As he mouthed down your chest, he paused to tease one of your perked nipples gently between his teeth, and a pang of arousal shot through him when you arched and moaned under him. It was pure bliss– and your eyes rolled shut as your hips pressed up insistently. Sebastian ground his hips into yours for as long as he could manage before he had to scoot back to continue further, but he made up for it by dragging his nails deliciously down your thighs before he’d settled between your outstretched legs. 

You made such a pretty picture spread out in the lush, satin sheets this way; with your hands fisted in the covers above your head, your legs spread on either side of him, and the lustful gaze you pinned him with, Sebastian was half convinced he’d fallen back asleep this morning and was still dreaming. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch your body react to his touch, so he smiled as he dipped his head to drag the flat of his tongue up your wet folds, and the way your breath stuttered in your throat was far more enticing than it had any right to be. You attempted to push yourself up onto your elbows to watch– entirely enthralled with how Sebastian looked between your thighs– but then he took your clit between his lips and sucked, and you were pulling the sheets into your clenched fists and falling back against the pillows with a ragged moan.

Sebastian continued to toy with you that way for far too long for comfort– holding you hostage in some combined purgatory of bliss and torment as he sucked and lapped at your center. It was far too easy to reduce you to a pile of brainless mush given your fatigued, overly-sensitive state, and he was all too curious to discover how many new things you would let him get away with before you got impatient and started begging. 

With gentle, attentive hands, Sebastian coaxed you into raising one of your knees up so he could throw your leg over his shoulder, instantly coiling his strong arms under your waist to hold you firmly to his unrelenting mouth. His stomach flipped at how easily you relaxed for him, and you proceeded to fight your boneless nature so you could sit up and watch him with lust-dark, hazy eyes. Sebastian loved the attention– thrived on it, really– and he broke away from your overwhelmingly wet heat to pepper chaste kisses along the smooth hollow of your leg. You were already breathing heavier– your fingers twitching around handfuls of fabric– and when Sebastian moaned and slipped his tongue out in-between kisses to lightly run the tip along soft, sensitive skin, your breath caught audibly in your chest before you shuddered out a shaky sigh. 

When he first sank his teeth into the heated flesh midway up your inner thigh, he did so gently, but your hips still jerked at the sensation, and you couldn’t stop the wanton moan that slipped through your parted lips. “Fuck, Sebastian–” you groaned, your voice laced with obvious desire. You dug the heel of your foot into the middle of his back, silently imploring him to give you more, because the feeling of him marking you somewhere so sensitive was too fucking good. 

Sebastian flashed you a smug grin as he pulled away, but not before planting a lingering kiss along the faint imprints of his teeth. The gesture was warm and promising– as was the way his hand squeezed your waist before letting the leg over his shoulder fall back against the mattress. He moved to splay his hands over your hips, your thighs resting comfortably over his arms, but he let them stay spread open rather than using his grip to pull you around like he usually would. 

As his thumbs trailed gently along the curves of your hip bones, Sebastian leaned back down to brush another warm kiss along your inner thigh, humming at the way your muscles tensed slightly. He nuzzled up higher, then parted his lips against the soft skin to bite again, and this time he sucked steadily with the intent of leaving a dark, lasting mark there too. You moaned softly, your hips rocking up at the sensation, and as Sebastian worked yet another brand into your skin, your breath shifted into quiet panting as your hands twisted in the sheets. 

Satisfied with the deep purple of the bruise and the light imprint of his teeth around it, Sebastian pulled away and dragged the flat of his tongue over his brand soothingly, breathing a low groan as he did so. He admired it for a moment longer before he mouthed wetly up your leg further, his dark, messy curls brushing against the join of your thigh. 

He nuzzled closer to begin working another mark there, and the sharp sting of his lips and his teeth had you gasping– bending your free thigh up to let it fall to the side in a bid to give Sebastian all the room he wanted to keep going. He moaned encouragingly, squeezing your hips once again as you lifted them up for more, and he dragged his tongue up along the soft hollow of your thigh as his brow furrowed in concentration. 

“S-Sebastian,” you gasped, trembling under the brunet’s affection. The shaky insistence to your voice caught his attention, so he leaned up enough to look at you as he licked his lips and pet your hips soothingly. Swallowing heavily, you opened your eyes and shivered, meeting his gaze almost shyly before you murmured, “I-I don’t– I don’t usually like slow stuff.” 

Sebastian shifted up onto his elbows, idly drawing his palms back and forth over your flushed skin. His expression showed nothing but concern as he asked, “Do you want to stop?” 

You shook your head quickly, scooting your hips minutely towards him. “N-No, no– this is fine. Good, even, I… I like this.” 

Tilting his head to the side, Sebastian tried unsuccessfully to figure out what was happening, then cautiously asked, “Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” you answered firmly, leaving no room for doubt. You fidgeted for a few seconds, squirming under the obvious care Sebastian was showing for you until you eventually took a breath and relented. “I like this. A lot.” The freckled man only cocked a brow at you in confusion, but before he could move to crawl over you again, you huffed and flopped back against the mattress. “I like you leaving marks on me, too.” 

He mulled that over in his brain for a long moment, squinting slightly. “Okay…?” 

“You fucking ass,” you wheezed out, your breath akin to an overwhelmed laugh. “It’s because it’s you, Sebastian, Merlin’s beard– I like you.”

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Sebastian stared up at you again and carefully replied, “Thanks?” 

“Nevermind, I hate you,” you grumbled, slinging an arm over your face. “Forget I said anything.” 

“No– hold on–” he sputtered before sitting up straight, his arms sliding out from under your thighs. You appeared to be disgruntled by the change, but you didn’t come out from hiding to complain. “I mean– we’ve been fucking for like a year. I’d hope to the Gods you can stand me by now.” 

You groaned from beneath the safety of your arm shield, “I cannot believe I have to spell this out for you. I’ve been fucking you for like a year because I like you, you moonmind. Like, romantically. Very much into you, whether we’re fucking or not.”

With an uncomfortably loud click, Sebastian understood.

“Oh!” His eyes damn near popped out of his skull, his heart doing some insane acrobatics in his chest, but all of that took a backseat to the blissful realization that he wasn’t the only one with a big, gross crush. “Oh, shit, okay,” he sputtered, raking his hands through his hair. “Wow, okay. Fuck, sorry– I was totally involved in the hickey thing, my brain wasn’t on. Wow.” 

“Merlin’s balls,” you groused, already trying to roll away from Sebastian’s wildly embarrassing presence. “I should not have said anything.”

“No!” Sebastian scrambled up the bed to brace himself on his hands above you, caging you between his arms while his heart hammered away against his sternum. “No, no no, you definitely should have said something, darling– shit.” He paused to try and coax you into coming out of hiding, but when you resisted him firmly, he didn’t push it. Instead, he chewed the inside of his cheek and tried to get his racing thoughts in order so he wouldn’t blurt out something completely idiotic. 

“I am like, ridiculously in love with you.” 

Completely idiotic. 

You froze under him momentarily before peering up at him over your elbow, your wide-eyed stare bordering on horrified. Cursing under his breath, Sebastian buried his hands in his hair and stared right back, almost entirely sure he could feel his life force draining from his body. 

“I-I mean– fuck, wait–”

“Are you kidding me!?” You bolted upright– narrowly avoiding cracking your skull against Sebastian’s on the way up. Your fingers clamped down on his shoulders so you could rattle him slightly as you blurted, “What the hell, Sebastian! How long?” 

“I don’t know!” He threw his hands up and pointedly stared at the wall before grumbling, “I don’t fucking know, it’s not like it happened all at once. It started towards the end of our fifth-year and it just kinda… grew from there. Like a Horklump.” 

Sebastian realized how shitty that euphemism was when your mouth fell open in utter disbelief. “Did you seriously just compare your feelings for me to a fungus?” 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He sat back on his heels, crossing his arms stiffly over his bare chest as he returned to staring at anything but you.

“For what, exactly?” You ran a trembling hand through your unruly hair, then dropped your gaze to the sheets. “For returning my feelings? Or for not saying anything before right now?” Sebastian just shrugged unhelpfully with his lips pursed. Groaning loudly, you flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling for a minute, your irritated, murder face back in full swing. 

Just as Sebastian was starting to get worried by the awkward silence— doing his best not to fidget— you nodded to yourself and announced, “We should date each other.” 

“…Come again?” 

“We should date each other,” you repeated firmly, leaning up on your elbows again and exuding a confidence that had seemingly come out of nowhere. “I like you, you love me–” Sebastian did his best to not choke on his own tongue, “–we spend so much time together that we’re basically dating anyways. At least, Imelda seems to think so… it seems like a good enough idea to me, if you’re interested.” 

It took Sebastian a few seconds to untangle his tongue enough to reply, but when he did, all he could do was croak, “You want to date me?”

“Yes. I’d like that.” 

“…Are you high? Did you smoke Mallowsweet on your way here?”

You groaned and tipped your head back between your shoulders, very clearly searching for some semblance of patience. “I’m high on sleep deprivation, yes, but that doesn’t make my feelings any less real. They’re there whether I’ve slept or not. It’s actually hell.” 

Sebastian was still flabbergasted, staring down at you helplessly. “Why are you bringing this up now?” 

“I don’t know! I didn’t mean to full-on confess or anything, it just kind of came out that way. You were leaving hickeys on me, and I realized that whenever I wake up tomorrow, I’m gonna feel them and see them and remember how you fucking appeared out of nowhere right when I was wondering if you’d be pissed if I snuck into your dorm at the ass crack of dawn– and then I’ll remember how good you looked leaving them on me and how I totally wanted you to do slow mushy lovey sex stuff to me, and then I’ll probably sleep like shit for weeks fantasizing about that, and–”

“Okay, alright, damn,” Sebastian interjected, his face flushed an impressively dark shade of red.

“You asked,” you mumbled as you half-heartedly picked at the sheets. 

“I did, yeah.” Licking his lips quickly, Sebastian reached forward to rest his hand over yours, dragging his thumb along your knuckles soothingly. “I’d really, really like that. A lot, if I’m being honest. I’ve kind of dreamt about it for a while now.”

Your sheepish smile transformed rapidly into something purely elated, and you flipped your hand over to intertwine your fingers with his own as you playfully mused, “Not the only thing you’ve been dreaming about, apparently.” 

Sebastian laughed again, and this time it was less nervous and more breathless with relief. He leaned forward to brush his lips against yours, resting his free hand on your warm cheek, and you instantly relaxed for him as you tilted your chin up into the kiss as you gave his fingers a tentative squeeze. 

You fell back onto the bed again as you tugged Sebastian over you, loosely hooking your legs around his hips to keep him close. The brunet groaned and leaned into you, and when you threaded your fingers into his hair and pulled him into another kiss, he slipped his tongue between your lips with a shaky sigh– all too eager to put his hands all over you. Luckily you seemed to be of like mind, moaning against his mouth before pulling back just enough to whisper, “Touch me, please.” 

Sebastian nodded ardently and nipped at your flushed lips, shifting his weight to free up his hands so he could better run his palms along your sides. He squeezed gently before dragging one hand down to your still-slick heat, expertly seeking out your tiny bundle of nerves in a bid to reduce you to a mewling, gasping mess. Your spine rounded towards him as soon as he found it– an airy moan ripping from your throat as he pressed tight circles around the nub– and Sebastian swallowed your keening noises greedily. 

“Why are you still wearing these?” You murmured against his plush lips as your finger slipped beneath the waistband of his briefs, tugging softly to convey your request. 

There was no muffling his smug bark of laughter, and a feline smile split his face as he pulled back just enough to plant a featherlight kiss on the tip of your nose. “So impatient,” he teased, intentionally ignoring your hand on his undergarments in favor of sliding one of his skilled fingers through your folds. He replaced the missing finger against your clit with his thumb at the same time he inserted a digit inside of your pulsing walls, and the feeling had your head falling back as your lips parted around a stuttered gasp, your thighs tightening impossibly further around his waist. 

Undeterred, you blindly wiggled your hand under the hem of Sebastian’s underwear and tugged his arousal out with a practiced flick of your wrist. You wrapped your fingers around his girth and gave him a long, tight stroke– squeezing the head in the way you knew he liked– which in turn earned you a rough, wavering moan. Matching Sebastian’s pace was easy, and you stroked him steadily as you leaned up to seal your lips over his pulse to begin working a dark hickey of your own into his sweaty, freckled skin. 

Resting his weight on his free arm, Sebastian leaned closer as he sighed heavily while his brown eyes fluttered shut from the way your mouth felt on his neck. He rocked his hips into your hand and pumped his fingers a few more times inside of you before he was withdrawing the digits to push his briefs down all the way. You merely chuckled against his throat, pulling off of the fresh, blossoming mark with a satisfied hum before you laved your tongue over it. 

Once Sebastian had finally wrestled off his briefs and settled over you again, you tugged him by the neck back into a hungry kiss, and he groaned deeply at the way you moved perfectly against him. As you curled your tongue between his lips, your hands traversed down the broad expanse of his toned back to feel as much of him as you could, pawing encouragingly at his lower back to guide him into a languid, grinding rhythm against you. 

Sebastian let himself follow your lead for a few slow thrusts, but the way your skin felt against his– coupled with the way your quiet moans sounded muffled against his lips– was too tempting to overlook for long. Following a brief, bitey kiss, Sebastian dropped his hand between your legs once again to press at your wet, warm entrance. You shivered at the way his fingers felt against you as he coaxed you into relaxing, and your nails dug into his sculpted shoulders when he mercifully worked two of his thick digits inside of you. A string of moans and praises alike fell from your lips as your head lolled back against the pillows, and the remnants of Sebastian’s restraint began to slip away as a result. 

“Fuck, darling,” he keened breathlessly, unable to take his eyes off of your face as your expression shifted into one of pure pleasure. His buried his fingers to the knuckles, utterly overwhelmed at how tight you were, and he nudged his nose against your cheek as he murmured, “You look so fucking good right now…”

“Y-You may have mentioned that, yeah,” you laughed against his sweat-slick skin, blinking affectionately up at your now-boyfriend as he took in your pliant body beneath him, and the thought imbued you with a fresh sense of desire that you were desperate to act on. “Come on, I want you inside me already.” 

With a wheezy laugh, Sebastian nodded and ducked his head to catch your lips again as he started thrusting his fingers into your pulsing heat. He nibbled gently at your bottom lip when he buried his fingers deep to curl them towards your stomach, which in turn earned him a squeaky little moan that was immediately followed by an impatient wriggle of your hips. Your legs were trembling with barely contained want as you spread them further, and Sebastian took full advantage of the newly acquired space to readjust himself into a more comfortable position. 

By the time you were panting against him and rocking back onto his fingers, Sebastian was more than ready to move things along. He slid his fingers out and pulled away with another quick kiss before sitting up to steady his cock at your entrance. You helpfully wrapped your legs around his waist again, angling your hips towards him with a coy smile on your face until you felt the head of his achingly hard member bump against you. Sebastian flashed you a doting smile in return, and with an unhurried roll of his hips, he was sinking into you with a throaty groan that made your hair stand on end. 

“F-Fuck, you feel so warm– you’re perfect, darling,” he grit through his clenched teeth, plunging himself deeper inch by inch until he had bottomed out completely inside of you. The way your walls fluttered around him made him dizzy with need, but he noted the tension in your shoulders and forced himself to maintain his slow pace so you could get acclimated to the feeling. Sebastian was practically fluent in your stubborn body language by now, and he was nothing if not determined to get you to relax completely. 

Rather than thrusting deeper, Sebastian sighed and licked his lips as he glanced up at your face. You were an incredibly tense person on the best of days, but when you were running on fumes like this, he found it to be even harder to get you to release the mountain of stress you seemingly carried with you at all times. While he was all too used to the frown lines that so frequently cropped up between your brows, seeing them now just made Sebastian want to be even gentler with you– even more careful. 

He lightly nudged your head aside and set to dragging hot, wet kisses down the column of your throat, moaning wantonly at the bare salt of your sweat on his tongue. You shivered and gasped, tilting your head to the side with a low sigh to grant the brunet more access, and before long the combined feeling of Sebastian’s tongue and lips on your neck had you melting under him completely with your eyes blissfully closed. 

“That feels… really good,” you murmured with a low voice. It was pure rapture to feel Sebastian this way; moving slowly inside of you, his lips dancing down your throat and nipping softly at the skin there. His hands eventually crept up the pillows to tangle in your hair, and the enticing feeling of his nails scraping against your scalp was enough to have you tightening around his cock a fraction. 

The praise sent a bolt of confidence through Sebastian, and he moved from your neck back to your lips to slot your mouths together again. He gingerly pulled his hips back before rolling them forward, and when you moved down against him with a shaky breath, it was all the go-ahead he needed to keep going. 

The rhythm he fell into was slow and steady, moving inside you with long, easy thrusts while he ground against your ass every time he buried himself deep. His eyes remained trained on your face, your expression clearly showing how pleased you were to be taken care of. You weren’t squirming in blatant pleasure yet, but Sebastian figured this was a good enough first step. 

“C’mon, Sebastian– you’re putting me to sleep here,” you mumbled playfully, letting your arms rest above your head in the way Sebastian loved to see. His tempo faltered slightly, but your mischievous grin betrayed the legitimacy of the claim; he should’ve known you were simply teasing him, especially when he knew you always got a kick out of taunting him. 

“Oh yeah?” He practically purred, sitting back on his heels to wrap his hands around your hips as he hauled you aggressively into his lap. 

You adjusted to him easily, wiggling your hips in Sebastian’s grasp in a bid to spur him onward. “Yeah… jeez, Sallow, you had one job. Tsk tsk.” 

“Well, shit.” He grinned wickedly down at you as he rolled his hips back, pulling almost all the way out and relishing in the way your face fell briefly. He hovered there for a long, torturous second before he snapped his hips back into you, using his grip to hold you down on his cock as he ground deeper and harder than before. You were left gasping at the feeling, your head falling back as your fingers twisted in the sheets, and before you could recover, Sebastian rasped, “Guess I should fuck you better then, huh?” 

Without giving you room to breathe, Sebastian kept up his agonizingly slow pace, easily pulling you back onto his cock with every firm thrust. He fucked into you evenly– his strong hands controlling the rhythm in the way he knew drove you crazy– and it earned him a cacophony of shaky moans that fell from your flushed, bitten lips. 

“Yeah,” you replied finally, your voice tight and shaky. “You have to keep me up all morning, remember?” 

It was a simple enough statement, but the way it rolled off of your tongue made it sound absolutely filthy. Your raspy voice was dripping with lust, your hot breath panting out between your parted lips, and that was more than enough to light a fire in Sebastian’s blood. 

Groaning roughly, Sebastian paused long enough to hook his arms under your knees to haul them easily over his shoulders. You gasped as the movement lifted you off of your hips– then again when he nipped sharply at the inside of your knee before sucking hard enough to leave another flushed bruise there. The sensation had you squirming in Sebastian’s lap to the best of your ability, moaning breathlessly as he ground into you with a low rumble. 

Once he was satisfied with his mark, the freckled man rubbed his hands slowly down your tense thighs, leaning over you on his hands again so you were effectively bent back and pressed against the sheets. Sebastian leaned more of his weight into you– sinking deeper– and just as you were opening your mouth to urge him on, he started moving again. 

He picked up his pace from before easily, but now, every slow, hard thrust stuffed you full of him, and it didn’t take him long to find the angle that had you gasping sweet little moans with every shaky breath. 

Writhing under him, you arched your back and gasped Sebastian’s name as your hands tightened in the covers above your head and pulled ardently. He was fucking you slowly– but at this angle everything felt so intense– enough so that any teasing pretense you’d previously had was quickly washed away beneath constant, steady waves of pleasure. Your toes curled in the air behind him as your thighs quivered and flexed against his chest, but beyond that, you were entirely at his mercy. 

An animalistic sound reverberated from deep within Sebastian’s chest, and his own fingers gripped the sheets on either side of your head. The view he had of you was fucking insane; between the incredible face you were making, the way every thrust sent electric little sparks all throughout the both of you, and the way your cunt tightened around his cock with every deep thrust– he couldn’t help but moan your name, brainless praises falling from his lips whenever he could string the words together. 

“S-Sebastian,” you gasped, shakily riding your hips up against the brunet’s to meet his every thrust with keening moans. “Sebastian, fuck– more, more, please–”

He made a soft, broken sound at that, then shrugged your knees off his shoulders to let them fall into the bends of his elbows instead. Surging forward, he captured your lips with his and slipped his tongue between them, and you took full advantage of the closer proximity by burying your fingers in his messy, brown curls and pulling him impossibly closer. 

With you bent nearly in half this way, your knees almost touched the sheets and in turn gave Sebastian the room to pull back farther and thrust deeper– managing to maintain his steady rhythm and simultaneously drag his cock hard all along your sweet spot. You were positively shaking under him, gasping pretty, noisy little sounds into your shared kiss as you wound your fingers restlessly through his hair and pulled just to have something to hold onto. Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut and pumped his hips harder, his self-control stretched thin by how perfect you were. 

How you looked, how you sounded, how you felt… he wanted more of you– more of the loud, pleading moans that tumbled from your kiss-swollen lips. 

“Gods, darling–” Sebastian leaned down and sank his teeth into the crook of your neck, pressing his body against yours as much as he could. You bucked up against him and cried out at the sharp, sweet sting of your lover’s teeth, your head writhing against the pillows frantically as your hands fisted in his hair so you could press his face encouragingly against your flushed throat. It pulled a brutal groan from Sebastian as he bit harder, sucking yet another dark bruise into your skin, and the sound you made in response was enough to send his mind spinning.

Your voice echoed off the walls of the bedroom, your loud moans and cries of his name falling freely from your lips as Sebastian marked you mercilessly. The ragged sounds coming out of him almost sounded like growls muffled against your throat, and the feeling of being so full had you arching your back clean off the mattress. Your nails raked viciously down his neck and shoulders before digging into his strong biceps, but the sting from the welting lines only served to rile him up further. 

When you threw your head to the side and began shaking, your voice cracking as you wailed for Sebastian in the way that told him you were close, he pulled his arm out from under your trembling thigh to plant his thumb firmly against your clit and began rubbing tight circles against the overly-sensitive bundle of nerves. As he brought you closer to your climax, gasping filthy praises between stuttered moans, Sebastian sped up his pace until he was pounding his cock into you, doing his best to keep you bent at that perfect angle as he did so. Your entire body seemingly snapped off the bed– arched tight and clinging hard to his larger frame as you clawed your nails down his arms– and your airy voice rose higher and transformed into a desperate, overwhelmed scream that cracked and made Sebastian’s brain go completely blank. 

You shook apart entirely in Sebastian’s arms, tight and blindingly hot around his cock, squirming beautifully under him as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your slick coated his shaft as he relentlessly pumped into you, until the thunderous rush of his own climax crashed down around him. Warm, thick ropes of his cum filled you as he emptied himself inside, and Sebastian swore nothing on this Earth could ever hold a candle to how marvelous the feeling was.

He was vaguely aware of himself moaning your name over and over again– stammering out mumbled praises of good, so good darling, fuck. His hands gripped your hips tight as he curled over you and clung to you for dear life while he mouthed brainlessly against your heated skin. It took both of you a few long minutes to come down from your peaks; you with your arm slung over your eyes, and Sebastian slowly wrapping himself tighter and tighter around you to gather you closer. Even once the trembling had subsided, he couldn’t find a good enough reason to move. He twitched his hips back to pull out– mostly for your sake– but that was about all he could manage. 

“Holy shit,” you rasped out after a while, catching Sebastian’s bleary attention. He blinked up at you and watched as you dropped your arm above your head to stare up at the ceiling, and he hungrily took in the steady rise and fall of your bare chest as you caught your breath. 

He snorted softly and dragged his palms along your still shaking thighs– still loosely draped around his waist. “You alright?” There was something to be said about how pleased he was by the low, smokey sound of his own voice, and evidently you were too, considering how it sent more shivers up your spine. You nodded though, tugging at his shoulder to silently urge him closer. 

Sebastian slithered up until he was close enough to catch your lips, allowing you to pull him into a lazy, sated kiss while your fingers combed through his tangled curls. All too graciously, he melted against you– for once not fighting the desire to affectionately trail his knuckles down the line of your jaw. After a few minutes of languid kissing and mindless touching, Sebastian rolled to the side and let you readjust so you were laying on your side with your back to his chest, giving him the chance to wind his arms around your waist and hold you against him. 

He knew he was meant to be keeping you awake leading up to Potions class, but a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt. Beyond a herd of Thestrals stampeding through the room, Sebastian sorely doubted that anything could drag him away from this moment with you. He’d waited long enough for it as it was. 

—

After turning your assignment in and sitting through a particularly dreadful lesson for an hour, you’d finally been free’d from the shackles of the education system for the weekend, and you’d quickly found yourself sprawled across Sebastian’s bed with the curtains drawn. You were currently dead asleep and likely to stay that way for a while, but the brunet didn’t mind in the slightest. He wasn’t particularly tired, but he was especially interested in lengthy cuddling with his girlfriend, so he had no problem with the current arrangement. 

With his fingers tangled idly in your sleep-mussed hair, Sebastian watched as the bright streaks of daylight moved across the ceiling while you used his chest as a pillow, far too content to be bothered by how damn long it took to get to this point. 

[moonlight-prose]

Hello lovely, for your sinful soirée I’d like to request Tommy Miller and “don’t mind me. just enjoying the view.” ❤️🤭

DREADFUL NEED

a/n: the way i struggled with this when i was starting it. it's been a long time since i wrote smut and especially smut for him, but i feel like it's finally where i like it. there's no edits done and minor proofreading so there will most likely be mistakes. also a massive thank you to @sunflowersteves for basically cheering me on as i wrote this.

summary: "You wanted to see his smile fade as the realization struck him that he would have to work for it tonight."

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, tommy being a bit of a little shit, slight teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum eating.

There was always something in that smile. A call to your heart. As if he were the siren and you were the sailor; ready to sink beneath the ocean waves to seek out what you wanted most. It was a need that yanked at your heart, shoved its way to the very forefront of your mind.

Until you couldn’t think of anything but him.

Tommy smiled again, his eyes dropping down to where your hands were tracing a random shape on the couch cushion. It took you a moment to realize that it wasn’t random at all. The small movement matched the exact one he pressed to your skin whenever he held you. His thumb, attempting to spread some comfort through your body.

“Honey,” he murmured, his eyes finding yours again, slightly darker than before.

“Hm?”

He sunk down into his chair further, legs spreading to catch your attention. You hated how much he knew you. How he could drag your eyes right where he wanted, holding you rapt with unspoken want. Except nothing was ever left unsaid with him. You didn’t have to say a single thing for him to understand what you wanted—what you ached for.

“Come here,” he said, his words nearly stopping your heart in its place.

A heat spread low in your stomach, wrapping like vines around your nerves—searing you from the inside out. It beckoned you towards him, begged you to move, to finally give into what he wanted. But the stubborn streak he loved fought back. Telling you to make him come to you, if only to hold the upper hand for a moment more. You wanted to see his smile fade as the realization struck him that he would have to work for it tonight.

“Honey.” His words were lower, smile slowly slipping into something else.

You spread your legs, matching his position and revealing what he yearned for. His shirt rode up your thighs, hitching around your hips and giving him an eyeful of the dark spot staining your light pink panties. A sight that had him leaning closer, his eyes watching as your hand slid down to your thighs, holding still dangerously close to where you needed him most.

“You come here,” you murmured. Part of you expected your voice to waver, the nerves thrumming an erratic beat in your chest. But you sounded strong, determined to get what you wanted before the night ended.

He smiled again, seeing the way you shifted on the couch from want, your legs threatening to close. “Give me a second.”

“Tommy,” you sighed, head falling back against the cushion and fingers trailing along the seam of the damp fabric.

The sharp inhale he took echoed through the room, giving you more incentive to continue. Pressing down until the pad of your finger caught on your clit, causing sparks to streak up your spine. A soft moan fell from your lips, hips canting up to chase more of your touch. Except it was the sound of him moving that forced you to pause entirely. His large form blocked the light from the lamp as he dropped down to his knees, his shoulders keeping your spread open for him.

“Don’t mind me honey. Just enjoying the view,” he drawled, lips pulled up into that small smile you felt go through you as if he’d just touched you himself.

Words built up in the back of your throat, but they didn’t have to be said, because he already knew. He could see the need on your face, the struggle of wanting him to replace your hand with his. Pressing a kiss to your knee, he watched your chest heave—the breath leaving you faster than you could take it in.

“I got you honey,” he murmured, his hand sliding up and pressing down on your fingers, watching in delight as your head fell back, your mouth dropping open.

“T-Tommy I’m—fuck,” you gasped.

He placed another kiss on your thigh, his teeth digging into the plush skin softly. “You come when you need to come alright? Take what you need.”

The firm pressure of his fingers guiding yours caused your legs to shake. A familiar curling heat building up in your body, claiming you with every small movement he made. You panted, an incoherent whine of his name and please mixed together echoing in the room. But he left that option up to you. Never giving you more, never less. The choice remained clear for you through the hazy fog that crept into your mind.

He wanted you to take everything he had to offer. Consume it with a hunger that gnawed within his body, screaming out for you as he watched intently. Licking at his lips, he watched the wet spot grow darker, spreading until it nearly turned the light pink a dark mauve. Except you couldn’t focus on that. Not when he pressed even further on your fingers, nearly pushing them inside you and forcing the heat to sear through you.

“That’s it,” he mumbled, his other hand digging into your hip. “C’mon honey.”

You wanted to shout his name until your fucking neighbors heard you, but all that came out was a garbled moan. He continued to keep you right there. Unable to fall over, until you pressed your hips forward. Grinding them into the mixture of your touches. He gasped softly, mouth parted as he watched you with dark eyes that swallowed his pupil entirely.

“R-right there—god!” you cried, his fingers pressing even harder until you were being dragged roughly to the very edge.

Something snapped in his mind, his hand yanking away despite your loud sob of protest. He yanked you forward, his hands rushing to push your underwear to the side as he sucked your clit into his mouth. As if the block in your throat vanished the second his tongue licked up whatever dripped from you, a shout of his name bounced off the walls. He groaned, digging himself closer, until you were nearly bent in half.

“Fuck, fuck! Tommy I’m—”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, the release you’d been aching for consuming you entirely. Your hands scrambled to grab onto his shoulders, nails digging sharply down as you broke. The tightness in your stomach gave way to that delicious blinding heat that spread through your body. Turning you into a writhing mess beneath him.

He moaned into you, drinking down what he could take. A man desperate for the very taste of you.

Falling limp against the couch, you moaned when he continued. Licking gently at your cunt until you had to pull him off. His name, a soft whine against your lips. Shifting up, he kissed you, spreading what he had left against your tongue and grinning when you shuddered. Your body, soft and pliant beneath his touch.

“You enjoy the view?” you asked, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

He laughed, the warmth of his body pressing comfortably into yours. “You bet I did. Best damn view of my life honey.”

Tugging him closer, you kissed him languidly—your tongue sweeping along his bottom lip. “I’m gonna need a view of my own,” you breathed, glancing down at the straining erection in his jeans.

Tommy chuckled, his hands reaching down to the button and popping it open. “All you had to do was ask.”

[proceduralpassion]

XTASY

Day 15 of Narcoctober- Create a smut fanwork that includes three different kinks and/or sex acts

Character(s): Rafa Caro Quintero x Reader

CW: smut, overstimulation, cum play, oral sex, orgasm while partially clothed, reunion sex

WC: ~1.4K

A/N: Rafa tearing reader down as he should 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

“Fuck, I missed you.”

You grin into the kiss, unable to hide your amusement. Your lips move towards his ear and you whisper, “Slow down, bebito,” before giving a light tug on his ear. 

He hums as he kisses down the column of your throat, “I don’t know if I can, querida. Have to have you now.”

You hang onto his neck for leverage as he pushes you towards your bed. It’s probably been a total of less than five minutes in the time between him entering your apartment and guiding the both of you to your bedroom. 

And now here you are being thrown onto the bed, giggles leaving your mouth with a rapidity that makes you cough. Rafa doesn’t make things better for you when his fingers dance up your ankles, sending you further into cackles. He grants you a little reprieve, mainly because he’s struck with how captivating your beauty is in the moments when you’re so carefree. It’s powerful enough to not only leave him speechless but also heartens him to apologize.

“I know I should have called-” He starts.

“Right. It’s not like you were in prison for the entirety of the two months you were gone.” 

You both laugh, but he’s insistent on voicing his regret, “Still. I could’ve bribed the prison guard a little harder.” 

“How romantic,” you lift your leg and your pointed toe hits the center of Rafa’s bare abdomen, “Now, are you gonna keep on waxing poetic or are you gonna make up for lost time?”

Rafa makes up for lost time. 

He’s on you in a second, his pants joining his shirt and your dress that are now on the floor strewn in the hallway and your bedroom. Even as your lips meet again in a hot and heavy embrace, your shared moans fill the room as you grind against one another. 

You move to run your hands through his hair and frown as he lifts up from out of your reach. 

“I said I have to have you, bonita. I meant it.” 

He’s pushing your legs apart and pressing a line of kisses from your knee all the way to the thick flesh of your thighs.

“And you always say I’m impatient,” you hissed through your heavy breathing. 

He spreads your legs even further and your arousal is more than evident to him. He maneuvers your legs over his broad shoulders and bends his head into you. You jerk with the first sensation of his tongue meeting your core and Rafa savors it. Every tortured little groan. The way your thigh flexes at the feel of his tongue surrounding your most sensitive bundle of nerves. The border between pain and pleasure he feels upon feeling your hand grip at his hair. 

He’s so absorbed in tasting you that he doesn’t even let up upon your first orgasm. He felt the tightening of your legs around your head and heard how you went from moaning & groaning to complete silence as if you had been shocked. But even as you lay limp on the sheets, he still kept going. 

He hears the affronted gasp that leaves your mouth and it makes him laugh, the vibration of it eliciting a choking sound from you. His fingers join the affair and it leaves him with the ability to look up some at your face. There’s a question coloring your face, but you’re too indisposed to actually voice it. He fingers you in lackadaisical fashion as if he doesn’t realize how sensitive you are.

It makes you want to punch him, but you’re too heavy in the mix to move right now.

The smirk on his face is tempting though.

“One more, mi vida. Just give me one more.”

You know him well enough to know when he’s being truthful and when he’s not. You see right through his promise and know that this night is far from over. 

Helplessly, you whine his name and it eggs him on even further. 

“One more,” he whispers, and the rasp in his voice is sinful. He lowers his mouth once more and all clear thoughts elude you. He’s still looking up at you, and somehow that makes it worse. 

“Please, please, please,” you’re begging.

Your sharp yelp cuts off your own begging as you’re lifted higher into ecstasy. Your climax hits you so suddenly that your ears ring and your hands that are balled up in the sheets slowly relax to the point where you feel like you’ve been given painkillers. 

“Fuck, that was insane.”

Rafa lifts you up into his arms, “Ah, mi pobrecita.”

“Shut up,” you lightly slap his chest, enjoying the warmth of being in his arms. 

Rafa’s petty and you know this, which is why you shouldn’t be surprised when he reaches between your legs and deliberately fondles your folds. You’ve never been so sensitive before and your hiss is almost feline as you jump in his arms. The look on his face is impassive until he gives an innocent smile. He collects some of your wetness and whirls his finger until it’s at your lips.

You lock eyes with him as immediately as the taste of you lies on your tongue. You see the animalistic form his eyes take as he watches you lick all around his finger before taking another. 

He’s rock hard as you go to explore him. When you pull his briefs down, you feel that the spill of his climax already, which has you gasping. 

His answer, “You really think I didn’t have as much fun as you did just now?”

And even then, he was already ready to continue having his way with you, intent on wringing every morsel of pleasure out of you. 

You were granted some mercy.

He went slow with you as he laid you back down on the bed and slowly took your bra, your only remaining wardrobe, off. When he finally falls into you, it’s with a careful rock instead of a thrusting motion. He’s cautious when laying his weight against you and takes a minute to allow you to get used to the feeling of him.

For a moment, the mood in the room suddenly goes from erotic to an emotional kind of vulnerable.

“I was scared I’d never see you again,” you admit.

“Never, baby,” he gives a light kiss onto your nose, “I’ll always find my way back to you.”

He may have taken you slowly, but once he’s into it, he doesn’t stop. He’s still going after you reach your third orgasm and the scratch marks you leave on his back will grant only sweet, sweet memories of this night. 

You’re mostly a silent person when you reach your peak, but Rafa comes to love the way you screech with pleasure when you’re in this state of frenzy. It only drives him further and makes him even more desperate for his own release. 

“Rafa, please, baby.”

“I know, baby, I know,” his nose nuzzles with yours even as he continues demolishing you, “One more baby, I know you got in you.”

He sees the tears in your eyes and lightly wipes them away. The two of you had established safe words and boundaries long before at the start of when your relationship became sexual. Still, he looks you straight in the eye and stops for maybe a millisecond before you’re pulling him closer to you.

It makes him laugh and you grumble out a frustrated, “shut up.”

“My princess doesn’t want me to stop, does she?”

At this point, it’s like he’s nailing you to the fucking mattress and the next thing that leaves your mouth isn’t even intelligible. Your body is flush and sweat glistens the skin on both your bodies against the moonlight hitting your bedroom window.

You use what little strength you have to meet his thrusts and the sensation of you rubbing up against him sends you over, not once but twice. The first of the two is strong and in symmetry with Rafa’s own. The two of you go still and he revels in the sound of your screech as he spills into you. The second is smaller and rolls into you, minutes later when he finally pulls out. He had been watching and saw the way you clenched around nothing while pinching half moons into his arm.

He looks back up at your face in esteem, “Such a fucking overachiever.”

A/N: Like nawt to toot my own horn, but beep beep mfers bc this ATE. Click here to be added to the taglist. Taglist: @asirensrage @drabbles-mc @ashlingnarcos @narcosfandomdiscord

[onthewaytosomewhere]

working out perhaps for ficlet friday 👀 maybe alex sees henry at the gym and goes insane or sthn 🫣 (smut it up as you wish)

okay this one gotta lil away from me and didn't even get super smutty lolz - just lust-y and silly lolz

can also be found on ao3 if u'd rather

Alex has been using the community gym in his apartment complex for a few months now. It started when his therapist mentioned that it might be a good release for some of the pent-up energy he feels. About a month in, the dude from 4B, one floor above him, starts showing up at the same time as Alex. Which is fine. The gym is for the use of the whole building, but Alex struggles with how the little shorts he wears cling, almost like they’re gonna break at the seams. Alex feels bad for looking, but it’s all he can do not to—his eyes are drawn to them no matter where he is in the room.

He’s not sure how the guy hasn’t caught him eyeing him like a piece of meat yet, but he’s glad he hasn’t. He doesn’t want to be the one to explain that he’s recently realized he is bisexual and would really love to know what those thighs feel like resting on his shoulders, or around his waist, or when he’s feeling brave between his own thighs as 4B fucks into him. He doesn’t even know the guy's name; he swears he heard a friend of his call him ‘Hazza’ which he assumes is a nickname of some sort, but he can’t think of what. He just hopes it’s not something boring because someone with thighs like that should not have a boring name. When he mentions this to Nora, she laughs at him and tells him it would serve him right if it were something like George or Henry.

Alex thinks now, as he’s once again thirsting over this man’s thighs, that there is no way he has a name so dull or proper sounding. He concedes that if it is, he could probably still be convinced to scream it in the throes of passion. Not that he’ll get the chance.

“Excuse me?” Alex looks up to see 4B in front of him, and up close those thighs are even more enough to fuel every dream he’ll have for the rest of forever.

“Yeah?” Alex manages to make his mouth work somehow, even if it’s not the most clever of responses.

4B gestures to the weight bench across the room, where he has a bar set up with what is not an insubstantial amount of weight. “Was hoping you might be able to spot me. Today’s my first day at the new weight, and it’s a bit more than what I was doing.”

“Sure, I can do that.” Alex gets up off the equipment he was using while thinking about 4B.

Alex follows him over to the bench, and he realizes as he’s standing at the head of the bench how close his dick is to 4B’s head. His dick seems to think that means something different than it does, as it starts to harden in his shorts. Alex tries to look away, but his eyes are once again drawn to those thighs—the thighs that really should be illegal. Alex manages to control himself while 4B does his reps, and when he finishes and sits up, he asks, “You need a spotter?”

Alex’s brain practically short-circuits when he thinks about attempting to lift anything with 4B’s thighs of sin by his head. He’s never been a strong man, but he believes that would tempt even the strongest of men. “No. I’m all right. I was just getting ready to head up.”

“Oh.”

It’s just one word, but it sounds so loaded, and Alex doesn’t know what to think. Does 4B want him to stay? He thinks up an excuse that isn’t ‘if I don’t leave now, I’m gonna need to rub off on those made-for-frottage thighs of yours.’ He looks at 4B, doing his best job of appearing normal, and says, “I have to hit the showers.” He leaves off ‘where I’m going to beat one out thinking of your amazing fucking thighs.’

“Oh.” This time, it sounds different; if Alex didn’t know better, he’d almost say it sounds hopeful. “I suppose I should do this now, then, before you leave. 4B stands, and Alex notices how close he is, but he can’t bring himself to move. He extends his hand to Alex and says, “Hi, I’m Henry. We’ve been working out together for a while now, so I may as well introduce myself. I live in 4B.” Alex knows exactly which apartment he lives in, but he’s not going to tell him—Henry—that.

Instead, he extends his hand and replies, “I’m Alex, 3B.” He isn’t sure what to say next and honestly doesn’t trust himself not to tell Henry all the dirty thoughts he’s been having about him lately.

“Well, Alex, 3B. I have to ask because, honestly, if I don’t, I’ve been informed that my friend, Percy, will do it for me, which will be embarrassing for all of us except for him. Would you be interested in dinner? With me. Sometime soon, preferably.”

Alex is momentarily stunned, but he gets his mouth to work. “I’d love to. But I need clarification. Are you asking me on a date, or is this just some friends thing?”

Henry chuckles, and Alex nearly drops to his knees at the sound. “I was hoping for a date, but if you prefer the other, we could do that, I suppose.”

“No, I want the date option.” The words leave Alex’s mouth so fast. Apparently, that is the correct response, as he feels Henry’s hand, still clasping his, squeeze just slightly.

“Perfect.” Henry smiles at him, and Alex feels as if he’ll do anything to see that. This doesn’t bode well for his sanity when he’s not even been on a date with the guy, so Henry releases his hand and walks over to the windowsill. He grabs his phone that is sitting there and turns to hand it to Alex. “Can I get your number? That way, I can call you and set things up.”

“Of course.” Alex takes the phone and opens a new contact to enter his number. He briefly debates what to put himself in but settles on ‘hottie in 3B.’ He hands it back to Henry, still open, so he can change it if he wants to. Henry laughs and saves it. He texts Alex, saying, “There, now you have my number too, so you’ll know it’s me.”

“Thanks, I probably should get going.” He really does need to be somewhere, but he also knows that he will need more time to shower today. He’s definitely going to be taking himself in hand and thinking about how Henry’s hand would feel around him. Alex turns to grab his phone off the window seal and does his best not to squeal when he sees the text message notification. He turns to Henry, smiles one last time, and walks toward the door. “I look forward to hearing from you,” he says as he approaches the door.

Henry calls back, “Have a good shower,” as Alex walks through the door. Alex isn’t sure if he did it on purpose, but he does know that he’s going to need to get to that shower now.

[prettyiwa]

DO NOT MENTION MY WORKS ON TIKTOK.

(previous) | (next) Relationship: Drummer!Levi Ackerman x Bassist!F!Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ Content Tags: Band!AU, Modern!AU, Fucking Your Ex, Unhealthy Relationship, Unhealthy Coping, Infidelity, Shameless Smut, Slight Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Oral Sex (M!Receiving), Face Fucking, Degradation Kink (Levi calls reader "slut"), Impact Play (Face Slapping), Slight SadoMasochism, Use of an Anal Plug, Choking, Hair-Pulling*, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Mentions of Addiction, Allusions to Addiction, Heavy on the RCHP Mentions~ Summary: You used to be his girl and he'd remind you of that fact every chance he got. Then came an offer too good to pass up, even with all the strings attached. Now you're left without your band, without him. But hell, you can remedy that first part, right? And what's a little not hate sex between exes? Word Count: 5820

A/N: Changed it a bit but most of it remains the same. Apologies, tall readers, but we’re Levi’s height here. (I also imagine him a few inches taller here if it helps)

Levi hates this entire fucking thing. He hates being under Zeke’s thumb—what should have been a great opportunity for the band is now Zeke micromanaging them, manipulating what the music will sound like in the studio. He hates that it was Eld who played that night—not that he didn’t like Eld, but he wasn’t you. He hates that he’s here in this dirty ass club with this brunette who won’t leave him alone while Eyebrows and Quiet Blondie whisk you away.

He hates—

He hates that this is the result of his choice and he hates that he’s realizing just how much it’s affecting him now after he’s seen you.

Did Zeke do this on purpose? Did he know that you’d be here tonight? Is that why he sent Levi? He wouldn’t be surprised. It's very much in Zeke’s character to pull such a shitty move, especially as Levi is open about his dislike of the blonde.

He tries to live without regrets, without second-guessing his choices, but, shit, if signing that contract with Zeke wasn’t something he’s starting to regret.

You looked like sin tonight, dancing, singing, playing like you used to—no, not quite. You were playing better, nearly carrying the entire performance. The drummer was good. Regardless of what you may say, the two of you played well with one another.

Shit, he missed having you play bass with him. Listening to you provide the bassline, watching you play—it’s pure sex. There’s no other way to describe it than utterly sexual. You keep time with him, unlike any other bassist he’s ever played with, instinctively knowing how he’s going to move. And your harmony is unparalleled, easily transforming around whatever kick pattern he gives, whatever percussion he’s throwing your way. He’ll follow whatever accents you give the piece, wherever you lead him, he’ll lock-in. Together you’re one instrument providing harmony and rhythm.

When the two of you play together, it’s transcendental, invigorating, indescribable. And he misses it. He didn’t realize just how much until he saw you play tonight.

Nor did he realize quite how much he missed you. You were his girl. He couldn’t claim any part of you, save for your orgasms tonight. Those were his, and his alone. You waited for him, knowing that he’d come, that he couldn’t get enough. Knowing what your music does to him.

You taunted him, teased him, riled him up, reminded him what it was to feel intoxicated, reminded him what it was to be drunk off of you.

He wants to hate you, wants to hate what you reduce him to, but he can’t. He can’t when you feel so fucking euphoric when around him, when the sounds you make are his most beautiful composition, his most beautiful song.

And the thought of you leaving with them makes him sick. Makes him want to find you and remind you that you’re his. Except that you’re not his girl. He lost the right to call you that, even if it was that which made you orgasm so hard you couldn’t stand on your own anymore.

You’re the addiction he wishes he never gave up.

The guitarist won’t stop pestering him, and, unfortunately, Zeke told him that he had to come back with a prospective bassist. She said she played and was a decent enough guitarist. Maybe if she tanks, Zeke will send someone else out. Doubtful, considering the importance of a unified bassist and drummer, but Levi knows that he’s not going to find someone more compatible for him than you.

As a pair of musicians. Nothing more.

So he takes her offered number, dodges her unwanted kiss, and gets the fuck out of the shitty club.

Four Weeks Later

She’s a fine bassist. Nothing special. Doesn’t lead at all, doesn’t do anything more than follow. Disappointing, but Zeke loves it.

Oluo and Gunther hate her and he can’t blame them. Petra came too close to slapping her when she nearly found herself in Oluo’s lap, trying to make Levi jealous. It’s his own damn fault.

It was like the floodgates opened after that night with you. A year and he was fine. He was fine not fucking. It no longer carried the same meaning—music. He didn’t feel that urge to combine the two, to indulge, and then he had to go to that club that fucking night, had to see you, had to hear you.

One stupid relapse and he was doomed.

So he fucked her once. Left right after. Showered in scalding water to try to wash it away.

That was two weeks ago.

He’s about to burst.

He wants to find you. He can’t find you. He wants to remind you that you’re his girl. You’re not his girl. He wants to tell Zeke to fuck off. He gave up everything for this opportunity.

He needs a distraction. Something to tear his mind away from you. Away from this shitty reality. The guys are surprised when he agrees to go out to Utopia District Lounge.

To make matters worse Amy takes it upon herself to invite Zeke. And they don’t find out that you’re the performer for the evening until you arrive with the two blondes and they’re already two shots in.

His eyes are transfixed on you as you set up, as another brunette with glasses comes and helps you, chattering excitedly at you. Amy keeps pouting and whining that he’s not paying attention to her when it’s impossible for him to pay attention to anything but you.

He’s curious to see how you’re going to pull this off—a performance with just your bass and your voice? It’s possible, but if the blondies are here, then he can only assume that they have a plan of some sort.

Eyebrows looks at the door as Zeke walks through, missing you altogether as the latter scans the bar for the band. Levi can’t help but watch as Eyebrows walks over to you, as his hand touches your lower back and he leans in to whisper something, the wink you give Eyebrows. He can’t help but watch as your gaze meets Levi's and you give him a cocky smirk, eyes flickering to Zeke joining them in the booth.

“It’s good to see my band here, together!” Zeke announces, flagging down a waitress. “Such a rare treat for you all to be able to relax, isn’t it?”

Oluo and Gunther pick up the conversation, wanting to avoid Levi punching Zeke, allowing him to focus on you entirely.

You greet the patrons of the bar, introducing yourself as a solo artist in need of a drummer who can keep up—a not-so-subtle dig at him—and that you’ll be improvising the set for the night, but that you’d like them all to come out of the night feeling some sort of way.

And, shit, if you don’t deliver. It starts out slow, lyrics angsty, voice sultry. The songs centering around sex in one way or another, associating sex with drugs, with addiction, but if that doesn’t describe the thrumming of his heart right now, aching for you, to join you, to fuck you. It’s hard to be sober when his drug is standing before him, looking at him like that.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, I have one more song for the night. It’s one that I’ve been perfecting for several years now, so I hope you’ll all like it. In fact, the person it’s about is in this bar right now,” you announce with a wicked smile. “I call it ‘My Ex is a Fucking Asshole.’ Say ‘Hi,’ Zeke.”

Your words take him by surprise, previously unaware of the identity of the "Ex" belonging to your song. Now that he knows, everything clicks into place—Zeke's terms before signing the contract, your potent reaction to the choice he made, your allergy to Marleyan Music Group. Now that he knows, he hates this entire situation even more.

And even though you’re playing with nothing but rage fueling you, he’s certain he’s never seen you look so ethereal, so dangerous, so exhilarating. Fuck if it doesn’t go straight to his dick, fuck if he doesn’t need to indulge.

You finish, glowing like you always do after a show, worrying your teeth between your lips because all that adrenaline, all that blood that’s pumping is going straight to your cunt and you need a release just as much as he. He knows how you operate, knows your singularities, knows what goes through your mind. After all, you were his girl.

And even though your eyes meet his, even though the electricity is there, the pull, you don’t approach. Not with your ex at the table. Does Levi count as an ex, or was he just a long-term fix?

Instead, your eyes find the blondes, looking at you like you’re the golden goose. Hell. With a voice like that and the mastery of your instrument, you may as well be. He can’t help but watch you leave while he’s vibrating with need, desperate to be buried inside you. But he can’t. So he makes a decision that he definitely comes to regret.

She tells him, too. “Just so you know—when I let a guy fuck me twice, it means I’m serious and we’re starting a relationship.”

He waves it away, needing release more than anything. It’s after that he realizes how idiotic he was. How, if he wants out, he’ll have to leave the band or get her to leave. He’ll have to risk his contract, including the non-compete clause. Everything that he had done, everything he had sacrificed—

“Fuck.”

Six Weeks Later

He’s miserable. Truly. Stuck in a relationship with someone he’s come to realize he hates. She talks too much, doesn’t clean up after herself, drinks nearly every day, and is too damn needy. Not to mention she’s not musically compatible with him at all.

And he runs into you more frequently now that you have a label—the label he wished he had gotten but was too poor for the move at the time. They’re playing it smart, advertising you like you’re a soloist, making you desirable to play with, to perform with. So you’re everywhere.

But it isn’t until six weeks after that fuck up that he snaps. You had just performed with one of the more prominent bands in the city sounding like sex, sounding like sin. He had to watch as the lead vocalist draped his arms around you, touched you like you were his, playing one of the songs that you had performed back at the bar.

He seeks you out in the back, overcome with the urge to mark you, to fill you up, to fuck you raw. Playing like this always made you an insatiable little shit, desperate to continue the high, to continue the music. He knows because you were his girl. He knows because listening to you play made him want the same damn thing.

You’re squeezed between the vocalist and the guitarist, arms wrapped around either of their waists, smiling with that post-show elation. As though you could sense him, you turn, making eye contact with him, licking your lips with a distinct rapaciousness playing in your expression. He approaches, unable to stop himself, unsure if he even wants to stop himself.

The air gets hotter, thicker the closer he gets, attention drawn to him when the band realizes you’re not paying attention to them, but to him, and the room seems to shrink until it’s just you two. You release yourself from the band, stepping forward to meet him, eyes raking his form as you near.

He wants to take you, kiss you, show everyone here how you respond to him, but before he can make a move, you walk past him as you had before. He has no choice but to follow, just as before. You live for this, making him follow, making him chase you for release—he was the one to walk away, after all. You’re not his girl. Shit, if he doesn’t want to make you his girl again.

Amy’s face flashes in his mind as he catches up to you, grabs your wrist, yanks you into a closet. He should feel bad, guilty, even if he doesn’t like her. But the way you whine as he pins your arms above your head against the back of the door sends shivers up his spine that wipe out all coherent thought.

The sound of the crowd and the ambient music reverberates in the small room as you grind against his thigh between your legs, whimpering and squirming with need. When his lips crash against yours, it feels like an inevitability, a certainty, a fatality. You feel like velvet against his skin, taste saccharine against his lips, sound euphonious to his ears. He makes quick work of the buttons on your pants, pulling them down, expecting to find lace or spandex or silk or something, but finding nothing.

“You like?” you croon at his sharp intake of breath. “Was hoping to get a good fucking tonight.”

The whimper that comes out of your mouth as he drags his fingers against your sopping folds fills him with an undeniable buzz that spreads across the entirety of his being. “Such a fucking slut.”

“What’s that say about—” your taunt is cut off by a discordant cry as he flicks your swollen clit, as he starts to massage it, setting you on course to that delicious fucking high that you’re so desperate for.

“What was that? I can’t quite hear you,” he whispers, leaning in so his mouth ghosts over yours.

“Shut the fuck up and fill me up already,” you utter between broken moans, still insolent, still a fucking brat. He removes his hand from your clit, bringing a pout to your perfect fucking lips, bringing a daring look to your lust-blown eyes.

It’s an impulse, an automatic response after years of fucking you, of knowing you, of—

His open palm stings a bit as your head snaps to the side and he thinks he’s gone too far—you’re not his girl anymore, and you have no tolerance for face-slapping otherwise—but an exhilarated smile forms and you peek at him from the corner of your eye as your chest heaves.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” you sneer. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

He lets go of your wrists and you immediately begin tugging on his pants, unbuttoning, unzipping, undressing, trying your damnedest to ignore the way he pinches, pulls, and bites. He springs free and you drop to your knees, looking up at him like you’re about to devour him and fuck if he doesn’t want you to.

You stick out your tongue, licking a stripe from his base to his tip, drawing out a shudder from him, causing his mind to go blank. And when you swirl your tongue around his head—the groan that comes out of him is loud and he’s certain the people on the other side of the door would hear him, but it doesn’t matter because all that he can focus on is the way your mouth is swallowing him, taking him to the hilt, the way his fingers bury themselves in your hair, controlling your pace.

And that look in your eyes, refusing to leave his—concupiscent, lascivious, absolutely pornographic. He’d let you kill him, here, now, if he could have this image, this sensation permanently branded in his memory. How pliant you are as he guides you to his pleasure, how pleading your eyes are to be stuffed with him, how intoxicating are your nails as they dig into the hard muscle of his ass.

His pleasure is building, mounting, but he doesn’t want to coat your throat with his cum—yes he does, but not right now—so he pulls you back with an unceremonious pop! Your gaze turns bitter for a moment before false docility washes over your features. You give his cock a peck before shifting, bringing your mouth to his hip, sucking at the sensitive flesh, certain to leave a mark. He can’t even bring himself to give a damn, not even when your teeth sink in, deep enough, hard enough that a forensics team could pull your dental records off his body.

He pulls you up by your hair, bringing you to your feet. He turns you around, slams you against the door, relishing in the breathy moan that escapes you, in the way you perk your ass for him, pulling your cheeks apart, showing the shiny plug nestled in your tight asshole. He taps the base, the surprisingly cool metal, and watches as you jolt, desperate for stimulation.

“You ready, you fucking tease?”

“Please, just fucking fill me already,” you beg, face pressed against the door. If anyone’s on the other side, they’re sure to hear, but as it is, it’s just you two—the world has boiled down to you two. Nothing else matters but the music that floats between you two, the music that you two create as you both seek passage to Elysium.

He nudges your opening with his cock, throbbing, begging to be inside you. You squirm against him and he tightens his grip around the back of your neck.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he orders before entering you in a single snap of his hips, groaning at the snug fit as your plug presses against him through the tight walls of your cunt. You meet him as he slams his hips forward, as the closet fills with the joint sounds of your gasps, your moans, as you two create a song so beautiful that it’ll be stuck in his head until next time.

Because there's gotta be a next time. How could there not when your pussy takes him so well, when your body responds to him the way it does like it was made just for him?

“Look at you,” he growls, pleasure rolling through him with each thrust, each twitch. “Such a good fucking slut for me. So—fucking—tight!”

The signs are there—the tensing of your muscles, the light fluttering of your walls, the quickening of your breathing—and he wants to feel you, feel the intensity of your orgasm just like the last time. He slips his hand between your legs, fingers rubbing your clit in the way he knows you love. It rolls off his tongue far too easily, a habit, a recognition of what you once were, what he hopes you would be.

“Cum for me. I want to feel my girl cum on my cock.”

Your orgasm is like a tidal wave—a massive surge that takes everything with it, leaving no survivors. The guttural scream that leaves you and the clenching of your pussy around him sparks his own, exploding all at once, making him see stars, grabbing onto you as tightly as you’re holding onto him. A deep satisfaction washes over him, feeling the release of tension he’s been holding onto for far too long. Tremors still wrack through your body and he finds himself uniquely jealous of the lasting pleasure you feel, the magnitude of your high compared to his.

But it’s the least he could do for his girl.

Even if you’re not his girl.

“Agh, fuck, I missed that,” you mutter, low and what he can only assume was meant for your ears alone. You tap his thigh lightly, communicating your desire for him to pull out. He groans as he complies, as his dick rubs against the plug one last time. As he tucks himself back into his pants, he notices the cum that trails from your swollen lips.

You shrug out of your jacket, handing it to him, before ridding yourself of your tank top and use it as a makeshift towel to clean yourself up. He watches as you ball it up and throw it to the back of the closet, leaving yourself in your black lace bra.

“That was fun,” you wink, extending your arm to ask for your jacket. “Till next time, handsome.”

You open the closet door, stepping out before his hand closes around your wrist. He doesn’t like the look in your eye as you turn back to regard him. He doesn’t like the lack of warmth, the attempt at indifference. He doesn’t like the harsh reminder that you’re not his girl.

“Next time?” he questions the promise in your tone, the certainty. He simply needs to know when.

You lean in, smile sickly sweet, unnervingly cold, until your mouth is level with his ear. Your voice is silky smooth and dripping with poison. “You and I both know that your girlfriend’s cunt just doesn’t cut it. We’re both addicts, Levi, and I’m tired of being clean.”

Two Weeks Later

The next time is a benefit concert, one that you’re both playing at, albeit at different stages at different times. The band manages to catch your first performance and you’re covering “Orion” like you were born to, like your entire purpose is to remind everyone of the power that bassists hold. It’s transcendent to watch as you perform, as you throw yourself into the music, the rhythm.

They catch Zeke watching with a hungry expression in the back, cataloging the way you make it look almost effortless and sound even better. Finishing strong, you look out to the crowd, glowing from playing, from their adulation. You ask them for another song to cover, watching the counter tick up, up, up as donations pour in. Someone requests “Coffee Shop” and your excitement turns palpable, loving the opportunity to play RHCP.

“Well, it’s not like she didn’t get better with time. Remember all of those times you and she would warm up with the Red Hot Chili Peppers? Look at us now,” Oluo remarks snidely, throwing a glance at Amy to Levi’s right. “What I wouldn’t give to play with her again.”

The last comment is loud enough for Amy to hear. She elbows Levi in the ribs before pouting that he stepped away from her. “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to defend me?”

Levi leaves before he has to deal with any more of her whining, thoroughly missing a decent fucking bassist who makes going into the studio worthwhile. After an hour of checking out the different stages, the different acts, he makes his way to the back of the stage they’ll be performing in later, only to find you, perched at the barstool, flirting with the bartender.

“What are you doing back here?” Levi asks, much harsher than intended.

“I’m playing with the headliners,” you shrug. “Erwin and Mike rep them.”

After the final encore, you emerge, sweaty and jubilant. The musicians from the day intermingle with one another, making it easy for them to get separated, lost in the sea of bodies, making it easy for him to find you and drag you to the bathroom.

The time after that was after a show in a park. You went down on him behind the bleachers like a couple of high school kids and were nearly caught like high school kids.

Then a show at the ballroom of a hotel—in the restroom, on the empty balcony, almost in the elevator, in a room that your label had gotten you in case you were too exhausted to take the train home.

A jazz club that had tiered balconies, perfect for private stripteases and overstimulation.

At a casino—which was the first time he had actually sought you out—he fucked you so hard that you forgot your name for a minute.

Again.

And again.

And again.

A symphony of moans, whines, whimpers, exhales, all permanently ingrained in his mind. Enough that he doesn’t fuck Amy anymore. Not when he can get his fix elsewhere. Not when he has the real thing.

She pouts, cries, complains, and he would say that it affects her performance but it doesn’t. She wasn’t good enough to begin with for it to affect her performance. He doesn’t find enjoyment in making music with the band anymore, not with Zeke hovering over them. It’s almost like he has a keen focus on Levi and the band, like they’re his only clients, like he doesn’t run one of the largest labels in the country.

He’s taken to playing alone as he used to when he met you.

He misses when music was something he looked forward to making, not just a means to an end. It’s getting to the point that Gunther is talking about leaving, too, taking the hit with the non-compete clause. It helps, of course, that Gunther can lean on his mother and grandmother for support. And Oluo has his mother’s restaurant.

And Levi? Levi has nothing but a record label that’s suffocating him, a woman he doesn’t want, and a woman he doesn’t have. He had moved here, hoping he could turn his passion into a career, one fruitful and rewarding. Before their deaths, he had promised Isabel and Furlan that he would do what he could to make it, to play and share his music with hundreds, thousands, millions.

Maybe he chose this particular rehearsal hall because it’s the one you frequent. Maybe he had chosen it because it was the cheapest in the area—but he doesn’t even live in this area. Maybe he just wanted to see you.

And see you he does, through the glass window of the door of his practice room as you pass with your bass. It’s such a weird thing, the way his heart hammers in his chest at the barest glimpse of you. He was fine—

For a year, he was fine. Except that he wasn’t.

Just as he decides not to pursue, the door is yanked open and you step in with your case. Your hair is tussled, breathing a little erratic, brows drawn together in confusion.

“Since—what—The fuck are you doing here? You don’t practice here,” you yammer, confusion seeping through your voice.

“I can practice wherever I want. I paid for this room, after all.”

His answer only seems to fluster you more, while you shake your head. “You—”

“Are you going to join me or can I get back to my practice?” he drawls. He had stopped playing, lost in thought, but he needs you to make up your damn mind. As does he.

Your eyebrows shoot up at his proposition, at the prospect of playing with him again before they relax and a contemplative smile forms.

“You sure?”

“Tch. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

“Okay,” you lilt. “You mind if we do some warm-ups?” You immediately start setting up, establishing your pedals in the space where you’ll be playing, moving like you’ve never been happier, the skirt of your dress swaying as you move back and forth.

“Anything in particular?”

“Mmm, no. Just throw me a beat,” you call, connecting the last of the cables to the amp.

“It’s good to hear that,” he mutters, having missed a competent bassist who doesn’t need explicit direction.

“‘S that so? Well, you guys are using someone who used to believe that playing bass guitar and playing guitar are the same.”

“How long ago did she believe that?”

“Hmm… Two years ago? If I remember correctly. You good? Or do you want me to start?”

He picks up “Naked in the Rain” and you flow into it easily, effortlessly, like it hasn’t almost been two years since the two of you played together. The smile that is plastered to your face is radiant in its own right, unadulterated joy, and fuck if he’s not feeling a little bit of it, too. It morphs into “Blackeyed Blonde” at your direction and it’s a rush for his bassist to take charge again, for the two of you to play off of each other.

You lock eyes with him as you move to the beat, to the harmony you’re providing to his outline, and it’s unquestionably sexual as the energy in the room shifts. It’s always been like this. This is what it should be.

You wipe sweat away from your forehead as the two of you come down from the warm-ups before tossing him an extra water bottle.

“You, ah, you have something you need to practice? Or just here to jam?” you ask as you open the bottle. He’s mesmerized by the way your throat moves as you drink the water, catching himself before you have a chance to notice.

“Today is unstructured. Do you have a song you need to practice? You’ve been writing more than you used to.”

“Yeah, well, got some shit I gotta work out,” you grumble. “You mind if I practice this one song? I have the drum tabs with me if you wanna take a look. Or we can see if you pick it up?”

A challenge.

But you’re his bassist and he knows you like the back of his hand, knows your music like it calls out to his soul.

“What do you think, brat?”

You wink and click your tongue against your teeth as you smile, keeping the offered pages in your case. The two of you have done this countless times just to see if you could. This is an old habit, an old game, one he’ll happily participate in.

Starting, he picks up the rhythm you’re giving him but waits to see how it evolves. It’s unexpected when you start to sing—you could, but you never used to. Now it’s a part of your package, but it’s still unexpected in this session that almost felt like things used to be.

The raw emotion in your voice is devastating, powerful as your eyes screw shut in concentration, engulfed in the music. He starts playing along, generally uncomplicated, and your face relaxes for just a moment before it twists into a mournful expression. Your lyrics are powerful, evocative, talking about him, about how you want to love him in wonderfully calamitous ways, leaving him bleeding and broken as when he left you.

He can’t bear it. He can’t bear watching you anymore, watching the emotions dance across your face—the pain, the betrayal, the longing. He can’t bear to watch anymore because it’s mirrored within him.

When he finishes before you do, he’s lucky that you’re so invested in the song that you don’t hear as his drumsticks are discarded, as his seat is pushed back, as he steps closer. Before you have a chance to open your eyes again, he’s cupping your face and pulling you to him in a fervent kiss, desperate to wash the pain away—yours or his, he’s not entirely sure. It doesn’t matter.

You pull back, pupils wide with desire, hands secure around your instrument.

“Here?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together, though you’re already preparing to remove your bass guitar.

“You were the one just singing about wanting to fuck me,” he points out.

“Those were the lyrics, jackass,” you mutter, gently placing your instrument in its case.

“Were they any less true?”

“No.”

A whispered admission. A whispered confession.

You turn, an indecipherable emotion behind your eyes as you step forward, as you extend your arm, your hand, wrap it around his throat. He gives you a growl in response as you push him back towards the wall, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, all teeth and tongue. Your grip around his throat loosens, remaining there only as a symbol of your power over him. His hands bunch the skirt of your dress, lifting it up so he can grab the supple flesh of your ass.

Your lips chart a path down his jawline, sucking a bruise just beneath his ear as your fingers carefully undo each button of his shirt. As much as he wants to mark you, claim you, remind you that you’re his, you must want to do the same. Once his shirt is open, you trail your lips down to his chest, nibbling on his collarbone and sending an intoxicating mixture of pain and pleasure through him.

He pushes you away so he can start loosening his belt only for you to swat his hands away and do it yourself. There is no foreplay this time, no teasing, nothing beyond base desire, base need. As you tug his pants and boxers down, his own fingers loop around the bands of your underwear, shoving them down.

His hands dig into your hips as he tries to turn you around, but you pull him off of you, instead pushing him to the ground and stepping out of your lingerie. You climb on top of him, positioning him against your dripping folds before sinking down on him, punctuating your breathing with a throaty moan.

The pace you set is brutal, unrelenting, full of words that go unsaid, unexchanged. Your fingers card through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. His grip on your hips is certain to leave bruises as he rocks you against him, seeking that high for you both.

But this isn’t like the other times—this isn’t about the high, the addiction. This feeling that’s simmering beneath the surface isn’t addiction, though it could easily be confused as such. He wants you. He wants you in ways he was too stupid to admit nearly two years ago.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you near your end, as you press your forehead to his in an unusually tender expression that nearly crushes his heart.

It’s a cry, a plea, the breaking of your heart—

“Say it, please, say it, please, please, please.”

“You’re my girl,” he grunts, caressing your body as you shriek and shudder through your release. “Mine.”

He made the wrong choice back then. He knows that now, and he hates that it’s taken him this long to figure it out.

Once you’ve regained control of your faculties, he grabs your chin with a tenderness that’s been missing from these encounters, these indulgences. Your eyes are wary, afraid, achingly hopeful as he brings your mouth to his for a sensuous kiss, a delicate promise to you, to himself.

He doesn’t like living with regrets.

You break away, eyes taking in as much of him as you can before maintaining his gaze.

“You’re my girl,” he reiterates.

“No,” you whimper, voice cracking. “I was your girl.”

“I want—”

“No.” It comes out more forceful and he wonders if it’s for him or for yourself. “I hate you. I hate you for leaving. I hate that I can’t stay away from you. I hate that I can’t hate you. I want to be your girl, but you made a choice, Levi.”

You flinch as he tries to wipe away the tears that have started to fall.

“I’m going to make another,” he promises, fingers gentle on your face, careful in how he comforts you. “You’re still my girl.”

fic page (including link to the playlist) | Attack on Titan Masterlist

[lemon-world1]

Of fathers and daughters

Can´t believe I´m doing this. I have like a million Frank Castle x Reader series drafts on my pc and I really struggle to finish any of them, bc I doubt they´d be any good and I would literally shit myself if I got any bad feedback. But I did finish one short one-shot and I feel like I wanna put it out there. All of my thanks goes to the loveliest @grippingbeskar, who is not only my fave Frank writer, but also encouraged me to do it. So here it is, Koda, this is for you, my very first published fanfic. If it sucks, don´t tell me.  

Also, I´m not a native English speaker and I have no beta reader, so if any of you find any mistakes, let me know, PLEASE.  

Relationship: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader 

Word Count:  3139

Warnings: mentions of death, swearing, childhood trauma, angst, fluff, making out and no smut 

Summary: Reader and Frank have a late night talk about their past lives. 

It is past 2 pm when you hear your phone vibrate. It isn´t unusual though. For the past eight months you got used to the muffled sound, as the person on the other side of the line would call more and more often. It was always during night, only once during the day which was on your birthday and it was always from a different number. You and the person behind those numbers became closer and closer overtime. Nowadays, you could even say that you were hopeful to hear your phone ring. But who is the person behind it? None other than Frank Castle himself, or as others call him ´The Punisher´. Although, when you talk on the phone, he´s Pete, and when he shows up at your doorstep covered in blood and bruises smelling of sweat and gunpowder, he´s just Frankie to you.  

As you pick up the phone, you still sound sleepy, but for some reason you think he enjoys it. Why else would he only call you at night? Well, apart from the fact that he is who he is.  Every time you say a simple slumberous ´hello´, you can hear him exhale and it takes him a few seconds to greet you back. That´s how you can tell. But you´d be a lying to yourself, if you wouldn´t admit you enjoy his raspy voice as well. You actually enjoy more than that. It´s his presence that makes you shiver, the nickname ´sweetheart´ he throws your way from time to time forces you to think of sinful things, the gentle touch on your lower back when you descend the fire escape stairs together gets butterflies in your stomach, and all those simple gestures he makes, make you weak at the knees.  

Your friendship became tighter every time he came seeking shelter or needed help stitching up. But it never was more than just a friendship. From time to time, he would spend the night on your cloud couch, getting a bit of good night's sleep, which he never got in his own bed. Maybe it was because your couch was the softest and comfiest place that he ever slept in. Or it might be due to the fact that he could hear you breathing steadily from behind your bedroom door, making him sure, you were sleeping safe and sound. The day you met him, you already knew he´s about to confuse both your head and your heart. Later on, you realized you really do have feelings for him, you just haven´t admitted those feelings to him. How could you, though? His actions made it pretty clear he wasn't looking for any kind of relationship. He´s the Punisher after all. He lives to kill the dirty scumbags of New York's underworld, he doesn´t have a place for love in his heart nor his schedule. So, the only thing you could do is to keep it to yourself and settle with just being a friend when he needs one.  

“Hello?” you ask neutrally, not knowing if it´s really Frank calling you.  

“Hmm...”  

There it is, the little sound of enjoyment, it´s him.  

“Hey sweetheart. Sorry for waking you...” 

“It´s alright, I was hoping to hear from you, you´ve been MIA for a while.” 

“I know... but I´m back in town.” 

“You are? When did you get back? Are you hurt?”  

“No, no, I´m good. Came back two days ago. I... I just, had to make sure no one´s at your tail”  

“Should there be someone following me?” 

He laughs. “I hope not, but you know. It´s precaution.” 

“So, who did you mess with this time?” It comes out more sarcastically than you meant it to. And you know he´d never tell you any details, so you realize it was a useless comment. 

“I´m sorry, I didn´t mean to...” You start apologizing, but he interrupts quickly. 

“I know, don´t worry ´bout it, sweetheart. I made sure no one comes knocking on your door.” 

“So why are you calling, Pete?” You ask nervously, not knowing what to expect. 

“I... uh... Could I come by?”  

“Now?” You sound surprised and he immediately thinks you´re going to reject him. 

“Fuck, uhm, I know it´s late. I´ll stop by some other time.” 

“No, Pete, please, you´re welcome here anytime, you know that. Let me just get out of my pajamas.”  

“Alright.”  

You hang up the phone and quickly get out of bed, run to your closet with the lights off, knowing he´s probably watching from the roof opposite to your building. You grab comfy sweatpants and one of your soft lounge long-sleeved tops and hurry to brush your teeth. As you walk to the kitchen, you hit the lights on as a sign for him. A few moments later, there is a soft knock on your balcony door. You draw the curtains and you see him standing there with a small bouquet of white freesias.  

“Hey.” He says with a shy smile but worry written all over his face while he´s handing you the flowers. He looks unusual. His eyes are puffy and underlined with red, his brows are frowned and his cheeks are blushed, but not in a flirty kind of way, more in a ´it´s freezing out there and I spent the last couple of hours crying my eyes out´ kind of way. It´s a look of a broken, desperate man. As you let him in, you notice he´s walking slowly. You´re observing his movements for any injuries, but there aren´t any.  

“Thank you, you didn´t have to buy me flowers... Are you alright, Frankie?” You can see he is anxious, he is doubting if he should be here, so you welcome him with a warm smile.  

What you don’t know yet, is that it was his daughter´s birthday, and he spent the last six hours kneeling in front of her grave, rain falling down on him, washing away all his sorrow.  

“I... uh, it was Lisa´s birthday yesterday.” he goes quiet, looking at his feet, he realizes he´s covered in mud and his clothes are soaking wet from the rain. Shit. You think to yourself. Not because you care about the wet floor, but because you know that there´s no such bandage for this kind of wound.  

 “Ahh, shit, I´m sorry to show up like this, I came straight from the cemetery.” He takes off his shoes, but his wet clothes are still dripping on your wooden floors.  

“You should get changed or you´ll catch a cold, Frank. I had some of your old clothes cleaned, although some stains wouldn´t go off.” 

“You did? Thanks.”  

You lead him to your bedroom and reach to the closet for his pile of clothes – black long-sleeved T-shirt, socks, grey sweatpants you bought for him in case he came all bloody after a fight and a blue flannel he lend you when you were cold on the rooftop. You remember that night too well. It was the first night you met, you took him there, to drink coffee as a “thank you” for saving you. The night when you had realized who he was under the long hipster hair and bushy beard. Surprisingly, you didn´t mind his past at all, you felt safer with him than with anyone else and you two ended up talking up there till the sun came up.  

“Here,” you hand him the clothes and a dry towel and show him to your bathroom, “I´ll be in the kitchen.” You walk away to turn the coffee machine on knowing that the conversation is going to be bitter and exhausting, but your coffee somehow always makes him feel better. He comes out quietly as you´re making him a strong double shot of espresso and within a second, he is behind your back pulling you into a strong hug. You turn in his embrace now standing face to face when hot streams of tears began to run down his cheeks. He buries his face between your neck and shoulder and squeezes your body, which in comparison to his large figure is very tiny, and he lets it all out. You let him be like that until he´s got no more tears left to cry.   

You finish making coffee and move your conversation to the living room. Now you´re both sitting on each end of your sofa, as you listen to him recollecting his old life while your heart silently breaks for him. It´s not that he hasn´t talked about his family before, he did that very often actually, but he never cried and he never shared so much at once. Usually, it was only glimpses of what he and his family used to do on holidays, or which Maria´s meals he liked and how the kids used to play.  

“I couldn´t protect them. I thought by serving overseas I was protecting them, but the only danger they were in was brought by me. Me coming home, doing my job, knowing things we did there, that´s what got them killed. When I got home from the last deployment, I was so fucking tired. I couldn´t even spend time with them. My son Frankie wanted to throw ball, he begged me to play, but I would snap at him. I got angry; I yelled I´m too tired. I saw the hurt in his eyes but I didn´t care. The same was with my baby girl. She was too old for me to tuck her in, but she asked anyway, she wanted her daddy to read her to sleep. One Batch, Two Batch. Penny and Dime. Her favorite. But I didn´t. I denied them something they were waiting to happen for months. Hell, I couldn´t even take my wife to bed... I think she understood why, she always did. I took them for granted, told them we would do it tomorrow. But there was no tomorrow, not for them. They were supposed to outlive me, I was the one who didn´t deserve to live. I didn´t, for all the things I did overseas... I was supposed to pay for it. You know, I used to believe that after I kill every single bastard who had something to do with their death, someone would finish me off too. I hoped for it. I felt like there was nothing else left for me. I lost them, I lost myself. I thought that was it. The end for me... But somehow, I don´t believe the same thing today. You changed it for me. You know, the night I saved you from the motherfuckers who attacked you in the alley, that´s when I knew I had to live. Since that night, I haven´t felt once the need to give up fighting or not to stand up and hit any shitbag once more, not even when I knew had enough. You made me realize that this is who I am now, that I can let myself be what no one else can be.” 

You can feel his eyes on your body, but you don´t look up. Hearing those words from him was something you thought you could never have in your life. Someone to protect you, care about you.  

“Frank,” you were near the point of bursting into tears, “I know you think you failed at being a good father and husband, but I hope that one day you´ll understand that what happened at the carousel doesn´t define you and your commitment to your family. You fed them, dressed them, loved them, you raised your kids believing that this country is safe for them. It´s the government that failed protecting them. It´s the government that stinks of fraud and should take responsibility for what happened. And those times you denied them something they wanted? You were simply being human, you just got home from a place with no rest, you fought with your body and soul. We all get tired and frustrated from time to time and they surely understood why you were acting the way you did. It doesn´t make you a bad parent or husband. It doesn´t make you a bad person. It just makes you human.” You both go quiet for a minute or two to absorb all the things that were said.  

“I never told you about my family.” You speak quietly. 

“I don´t know my father. I know who he was, but don´t remember him. He died when I was one. He hung himself.” Frank lifts his head, his eyes go even darker than they already were and his breathing almost stops.  

“Actually, I have never told anyone before. I´m not very proud of my background. My father had two other kids from previous marriage and my mom wouldn´t approve of them. He did his best to take care of them, but struggled anyway. Not having enough money to take care of his kids brought him to drinking a lot. When I was born, the burden he was carrying got even heavier. My mother was still living with her parents, because she didn´t have money to move out. She didn´t want him to move in with his other two kids and she said she wouldn´t help him take care of them. Eventually, she gave him an ultimatum to choose between them and us. He knew it was bullshit, but she was always stubborn and selfish. He couldn´t choose, so he chose neither. He couldn´t take it anymore and he killed himself.” You take a moment to breathe, but you know you have to keep talking, otherwise you´ll break into tears.  

“I didn´t know any of that growing up, though. I had a terrible relationship with my mother. She treated me like she hated me and I couldn´t understand why. After my father died, she had a boyfriend, they were together for 13 years, but he never really cared about me, he often yelled at me. I hated the guy, I hated how he treated us, I hated their relationship, because they would argue all the time. When I was fifteen and went to high school, I moved to a dormitory, because it was too far from my village to commute every day. I worked part time jobs to save my own money for the university. At that time, I decided to contact my two step siblings, I was curious what happened to them, I never met them and my mother never spoke of them. I only knew about them from my aunt and grandma. My mother always fed me lies, about dad´s death, she kept saying he died of a heart attack. But when I spoke more with my step brother and sister, we´d eventually tackle the topic of our dad. They were the ones who told me what really happened, how he died and it broke me. I couldn´t believe my mother would be so selfish to give him such ultimatum, that she wouldn´t support him when he struggled. She made it even worse for him and that´s what made him kill himself. Her wrong decisions, her not being a supportive partner, that took him away from me. Only after learning that, I finally understood why she was always so bitter all those years. As if she blamed me for being the reason for him to give up his life. So, I made my mission to get as far as possible from her and when the time came to pick a university, I was lucky to get a scholarship at NYU. After graduation I packed my stuff and flown here all the way from Europe. I never went back since.”  

You have a lump in your throat, tears start spilling down your cheeks, but you feel such a relieve to have said that for the first time in your life.  

“Shit, sweetheart. I´m so sorry.” He is next to you in a second, pulling you into his embrace, wiping hot salty tears from your face.  

“It´s all right Frank, I made my peace with it. I just wanted you to know, you have been much better parent than you think you were. I never heard my dad call me his baby girl or read me a book before sleep. I never got to know what he was like. Even though my aunt and grandma were the only ones who ever talked about him, and told me how good and kind he was, it wasn´t enough, because he gave up. But you never gave up, Frankie. You cared about them, you were there for them whenever you could and that is more than being “perfect” all the time. Whatever that word´s supposed to mean.” You chuckle and wipe your runny nose into your sleeve. 

You raise your palm and gently caress his cheek, wiping a single tear that escaped his beautiful dark eyes. “You´re my baby girl now.” He whispers and leans closer to you.  

You two were never this close to each other; he always kept his distance and would get nervous if he´d feel like he got too close for too long. But not tonight. Now he feels like he needed to close that distance, he wanted to do it for a while, but wasn´t sure if you feel the same way. You notice he is reconsidering the next step in his head, so you decide to help him. In an instance, your lips are pressing into his. His lips are moving slowly, gently, he is enjoying every second of it. You aren´t rushing either, you want to savor the plumpness of his lips and the taste of coffee you made him. Then, he adds tongue and when it meets yours, he grunts like an animal. Frank needs more, he wants to feel all of you. He pulls you up onto his lap, placing his hands on your hip bones and squeezing them tight. Your kisses are more passionate now and he goes to explore every piece of your body, he moves to place kisses on your collar bone, your neck and your chest. You can feel him getting harder as you slowly start riding in his lap. It drives him crazy, he hadn´t felt this way in a very long time. If this continues, he´ll strip your clothes off in a second and bring you to the state of total bliss in a matter of another second. But he couldn´t, not like this. He pulls away, but keeps his hands tight around your waist. Before he can say anything, you start panicking and apologizing. 

“Frank, I´m sorry, I shouldn´t have... I went too far and I... “He interrupts you immediately. 

“Hey, hey, sweet girl, it´s alright. I want this. Just... Not like this. We´ve got time.” 

You stare at him confused. 

“Let me take you to dinner first, sweetheart.”  

Forever the gentleman.

[deceitfuldevil]

Kinktober 10/2

Prompt: Corruption

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Warnings: corruption kink (obvi), oral (fem! receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, MDNI 18+, smut, more warnings when I proofread this.

—

Spending the end of your senior year in college at at full time internship was not in your original game plan, yet here you were. Working 40 hours a week for some small-time lawyers who got paid almost as little as you. Originally you were set to graduate early because you’d reached the required amount of credits to graduate and your grades were exemplary, but your school insisted that you get some experience in the real world before they let you graduate.

Also known as, wasting your time so they can make you graduate with everyone else. It was nothing really, or at least that’s what you thought when you started at this firm only a few weeks ago. All was fine until he walked in, Matthew Murdock.

You’d achieved such amazing grades and met your credit requirements early by focusing on school and only school. Maybe a phone call to your family every other month, but no friends, no parties, and no relationships. How else were you supposed to get ahead in life?

All of those walls you’d built up in order to maintain a good school and work ethic came crashing down as soon as you saw him. The first time you laid eyes on Matt there was a fluttery feeling in your lower abdomen and heat rising to your face, something you’d never felt or experienced before.

Even thought it was just Foggy and Karen in the office besides you and Matt, people still talked. It didn’t take long for you to get the message that Matt has made his rounds around Hell’s Kitchen. That’s what made you the most nervous around him, his experience.

Matt clearly knew a great deal about the law and in the courtroom, you could only dream of what he know outside of it. But you lacked experience in more ways than one when comparing yourself to Matt. You’d never even had a job, this internship would be the first this to possibly be considered a job. Let alone a relationship? You were a dimwit to think he’d pay any attention to you… right?

Wrong.

Matt had been paying all the attention he had on your since your first day at Nelson & Murdock. Your short stature that made you nearly a foot shorter than him on the days you’d wear flats, and on the days you’d wear heels you barely came under his chin. He liked that about you, but he started to feel guilty when he heard you telling Karen how this is your first experience out in the real world.

“So how are you liking it here so far?” Karen asked you, being friendly as she filed some papers in a filing cabinet next to you.

“It’s good! Although I guess I don’t have much to compare this to.” You said with a chuckle, but Karen inquired further.

“What do you mean?”

You faltered, realizing it wasn’t normal for someone at your age, especially in New York, to not have any experience in anything.

“Oh um, just that this is my first job ever, even if it’s not really a job.” You said, trying to sound as if it was no big deal.

“Oh..” Karen said quietly, clearly a bit taken back by that information. Her reaction prompted you to start to ramble.

“Yeah never had a job, I barley talk to my family, no friends, never been in a relationship, hell I’m 22 and I haven’t even had sex yet!” You said a little too loudly with a very awkward laugh, trying to ease an uncomfortable situation but ultimately only making it worse.

Karen had no idea how to respond to that, so it was by some stroke of luck that a client walked in at that moment and she ran to help them check in and get away from the conversation at hand.

It’s a good thing the client who had just entered was there for Foggy, because Matt sat frozen in his desk chair upon hearing your conversation with Karen. The first emotion that washed over him was guilt, the thoughts he had about you were very sinful to be having about someone so inexperienced and clueless about the world.

Then, a completely different emotion flooded his body— arousal. Matt knew it was wrong, so so wrong. But his pants got tighter as he acknowledged the fact to himself that you were a virgin. Untouched. Holy even.

Suddenly Matt couldn’t find it in himself to want to do anything but ruin you.

But he convinced himself it was an urge he had to keep hidden, it was much too inappropriate on too many levels.

You on the other hand, found Matt more attractive by the day. Your days starting with squeezing your thighs together at the sight of him when he’d walk in and ending with soaked panties. You just couldn’t stop thinking about all the things Matt could do to you with all his experience in bed.

With your not-so-subtle (at least not to Matt and his enhanced senses) reactions to Matt and his everyday activities, it made it harder for him to ignore you and push aside his sinful thoughts.

So, one late night after Karen and Foggy had gone home, Matt decided to push his luck. “Hey sweetheart? Can you print these papers in braille for me?” Matt asked, standing in front of your desk and dropping the papers in front of you.

But you just stayed frozen, your heart dropping to your belly and going so fast it was practically vibrating. Matt smirked at the reaction he caused you, and pushed his luck even further.

“Something wrong sweetheart?” Matt questioned slyly, giving away that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Matt I—”

“Oh I’m sorry, did you prefer darling? Or maybe doll?”

You went silent, knowing no response could mend your situation.

“At a loss for words, kitten? That’s too bad, I rather like listening to you speak. Why don’t I give you a reason to be so silent?” Matt asked, stepping forward and giving you a moment to back away or even flinch. But you didn’t, you just stayed still and waited for his next move.

“Open your mouth.” Matt command, and you were in no position to disobey. You opened your mouth wide and pressed your tongue

out the slightest bit. Matt placed his thumb gently on the softness of your tongue and rested the rest of his hand on your jaw. Leaning in close to your ear he said “now suck.”

You didn’t understand that action in the slightest but holy hell did it turn you on. So you wrapped your lips around Matt’s thumb and began to suck. Your tongue ran over the pad of Matt’s thumb as you sucked like you would a lollipop.

“That’s it, good girl.” Matt said with a low groan that when straight to your core. You squirmed in your chair, an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in your heat.

Matt removed his thumb from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting it for a moment. “You sweet thing, you don’t even know what you’re feeling right now do you?” Matt asked with a sinister voice, the fact that he was right made this feel all the more wrong.

“No sir.” You said shyly, taking note of the way Matt sucked in a quick breath at the sound of the name you just called him.

“It’s called arousal darling, and I’m about to show you a whole world of it.” Matt said darkly, leaning over and picking you right up out of your chair and tossing you over his shoulder. Thank god it was so late at night that no one would see him carrying you home like this.

When Matt had gotten back to his place, he wasted no time bringing you to his bedroom. Setting you down on his bed as he took a powerful stance standing in front of you.

“You’ve never been touched like this before, have you?” Matt inquired, leaning over and he skirted one hand up your leg and stopped at the hem of your skirt, gently starting to pull it down as he waited for an answer.

“N-no sir.” You stuttered out, closing your legs together as soon as Matt removed your skirt and panties along with them.

“Ah-ah-ah…” Matt scolded, wedging a hand in between your knees to pry them apart. “No getting shy on me now. Don’t pretend you didn’t know I’d notice the way your squeeze these sweet thighs together whenever I walk into the office.”

You might as well just die right now, spontaneously combust or something. But this wasn’t even the start. Matt helped you to slip your blouse off and started slowly kissing down your body, a mix of anticipation and anxiety flowing through you for what was to come next.

Matt stopped right in front of your dripping cunt, an area an even paid little attention to these days. “I’m about to show you a whole new world sweetheart.” Matt said with such eagerness in his voice.

Eager to please. Eager to corrupt.

With that, Matt dived straight into your heat. You immediately gasped, one hand finding purchase on the headboard of Matt’s bed and the other flying to thread your fingers in his hair. This sensation, this feeling. He was devouring you like a meal. You could feel his tongue prodding at your slick entrance, it was an entirely overwhelming feeling as you tried to push him away.

“Matty, oh my god. It’s too much.” You cried. Matt removed his face from your cunt for only a moment to warn you only for a moment “it’s not too much if you can still speak.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Matt dived back into you, this time his lips traveling an inch north and wrapping around a bundle of nerves you didn’t even know could bring you such pleasure… and then he began to suck.

Now you were speechless, and that wasn’t even the start of it. You thrashed around on the bed, gasping for air. But Matt brought one strong arm down to pin your hips to the bed, keeping you in once place so that he could add his other hand into the mix of pleasure he was bringing you.

Matt made a bold move and slipped two fingers into your incredibly tight pussy, curling them and immediately finding that perfect spot inside of you.

Scream, that’s all you could do. It was like a heavy slap to the face, knocking all down the wind out of you and you cried out so loudly. Your body acting on its own accord, shaking with immense pleasure as Matt lapped up your juices.

You felt like you were free floating above all of Hell’s Kitchen, a dopey smile adorning your exasperated face. Looking to the end of the bed where Matt now stood stark naked, pimping himself with one hand, your legs squeezed together at the beautiful sight.

“Hey doll” Matt cooed, leaning over to hover above you as he took your face in his hand, peppering a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Are you done being all fucked out?” He asked sweetly.

“Yeah Matty.” You said with that soft smile still on your face. “Good, because I want you to hear this.” Matt said, his tone dropping an octave as he lined himself up with your core and dropped his hand from your face to your throat.

“I am going to be the first man to fuck your little virgin pussy, and I’m going to fuck you so good and so hard that no other man will ever compare and you’ll always come back to me. Your first. Your only.”

You swallowed the lumped that formed in your throat at his words as the smile you come wore fell off your face, both fear and excitement coursing through your veins.

“Do you understand sweetheart?” Matt asked, tone as soft as ever.

“Yes sir.” You said barely above a whisper, but Matt heard you loud and clear. Pushing his impressive member into you at an achingly slow pace. After he was about half way in, you started to whine.

“It hurts Matty” you said with a hiss, looking down to find he wasn’t even fully inside of you yet. “Just hold on for me baby, soon that pain will turn to pleasure.”

Oh god, when? Right now as Matt continued to fully immerse his member inside of you it just felt like he was literally splitting you in half. Just when he bottomed out you thought he’d give you a moment to adjust, but no. Matt immediately drawer himself back out only to slam him back inside of you as you let out a cry.

“Such a tight little pussy, so pretty for me.” Matt praised, causing your to clench around his thick and throbbing cock.

“I’m ruining you right now, do you realize that? You’ll never be the same because of me.” Matt said with pride, leaning down and tightening his grip around your throat. “I’m corrupting you for good darling, there’s no going back after this.”

You were sure why his words aroused you as much as they did, but you sure as hell weren’t complaining. Matt was now slamming in and out of you, short punctured breaths were all that fell from your lips.

That unknown feeling that Matt broke for the first time just a little while ago was building up again, getting ready to snap all over again. You weren’t sure if you could do it again.

“Matty, I think I’m close.”

“I know doll, I am too.”

“I don’t know if I can do it again.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Matt spoke fiercely, taking his other hand off your hips and bringing it back to your clit as he began to run fast circles on it.

God was he good.

Suddenly it was only Matt’s name falling from your lips like a prayer, high pitched and crying as you were about to snap. “Yeah that’s right baby, keep saying my name just like that.” Matt encouraged, leaning over and resting his lips at the shell of your ear as he said “because you belong to me.”

There it was, that was it. Belonging to someone is exactly what you needed. Another orgasm coursed through you like a raging typhoon, you weren’t even sure if you were screaming or if you had lost your voice completely. Traveling to an ethereal plane of euphoric pleasure, swearing you could see the whole galaxy now.

A warm feeling filled your body, a feeling you later recognized as Matt filling you up with his release and painting your walls. His thrusts slow and easy as he fucked his cum inside of you, a little still leaking out as he pulled out from you. Leaving a feeling of emptiness in you both.

You chest heaved as Matt collapsed next to you. In a move that surprised you, he drew you in close, letting you cuddle into the nook of his neck while you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Matthew Murdock may have corrupted you, but he also wanted to keep you.

—

A/N

Wrote this on day 3 of my road-trip, sitting in a cramped back seat while my friends fight in the front :) so much fun. Anyways I actually like todays Kinktober blurb I did and yesterdays is going better than I expected, so thanks for the appreciation!

Much Love,

—Skyler

[tarabyte3]

The Devil Makes Us Sin

Fandom: Luther, Luther: The Fallen Sun

Pairing: David Robey/F!Reader

Chapter 2/? (9.9k words)

->start at chapter 1<-

AO3 Link

Summary: Your life isn't perfect, and you don't enjoy moonlighting as a camgirl for so many repulsive men, but you need the money and it's yours. You're getting by just fine. You're content.

At least you thought you were. Then you get a strange text message. And you aren't sure if you're horrified or intrigued.

Warnings: Explicit rating, smut, stalking, spying, blackmail, manipulation, dubcon, dubious consent, Dom/sub, sadism, masochism, unprotected sex, oral sex, masturbation, mutual masturbation, choking, dirty talk, praise, humiliation, possessive love, yandere, minor description of gore, minor description of violence, murder, discussion of murder, shame involving sex work, light shaming of sex work, emotionally abusive mother, troubled mother/daughter relationship, fear of abandonment

A/N: I am having more fun than I probably should be writing this fic. New minor warning in the tags, but note that the troubled mother/daughter relationship and emotionally abusive mother tags are more prominent in this chapter!

Work title is from "Paradise Circus" by Massive Attack. Chapter title is from "Go to the Limits of Your Longing" by Rainer Maria Rilke. Text divider 1 is from William Blake's Pity. Text divider 2 is from Hans Melming's Earthly Vanity and Divine Salvation. Collage quote is from NBC's Hannibal (2013).

Chapter 2 - Let everything happen to you: Beauty and terror

You spend the rest of the day, and the next day after calling into work, pacing a circle in your living room and thinking about all the things he said to you—about you.

First and foremost: What would you do if you quit and ran?

Move? Get another office job?

No. Absolutely not. That's what the shitty voice in your head that sounds like your mother says you should do. But what do you want to do?

You can't remember the last time you really wanted anything. God, have you really become so miserable? You hadn't even noticed. You thought you were fine. Maybe your life hasn't turned out the way you'd expected, but it isn't horrible and you get by. Now, standing on the outside of yourself and looking in, you realize the only real joy you've had in years is insulting men on the internet. While you sit in your panties.

So what do you want?

You wanted to go to art school when you were younger, but your mother had put an end to that dream when you told her.

"Very few artists ever make it big or earn a living for themselves," she'd said, "and you aren't talented enough to be one of them."

So you'd gotten a business degree at university instead and hated every moment of it. For a salary that isn't even that impressive, especially for living in London. All so you could work for entitled, boring men that make inappropriate comments, take passes at all the women, and never face any consequences for it because it's a good ol' boys' club. Bunch of pricks. You hope that place burns. In fact, you're going to walk in and quit tomorrow. And it's going to feel so fucking good.

Unfortunately, you also stopped painting. After your own mother's repeated dismissal of your eighteen-year-old self's dreams and passion, whenever you picked up a paintbrush or a pencil, you felt horrible. Nothing you painted felt right again. Your confidence was gone. That spark. So now you don't even own any art supplies. You don't like the reminder.

You do still go to art museums and galleries and shows in the city, though. Walking through them as a child is what made you fall in love with it in the first place. She may have taken away your desire to create any yourself, but she could never destroy that love, try as she may. 

Art has always been something you've connected with better than you ever have with people. It's effortless. Even parsing through the depths of the most complex and visually abstract piece is less complicated than trying to navigate personal relationships. Because art asks nothing more of you than what you are willing to give.

Maybe you could try painting again for fun. The second bedroom could be a studio now that you no longer need it for filming. And you could get a job at a gallery because that, at least, would be something you enjoy, and you wouldn't have to worry as much about the pay. Or—

You could go to art school.

The thought makes you stop pacing.

Loads of people go back to school later in life nowadays. Especially for the arts because, after years of experience out in the world, they realize they want to follow their dreams instead. You wouldn't even have to be successful, but you could be happy.

For once in your goddamned life, you could be fucking happy.

Because of him.

You go back to pacing.

Is that what he meant when he said he could offer you more than just money? He could give you the opportunity to finally live—though that circles back around to the money, too. It creates the opportunity, after all.

Except you know it was more than that. He was offering you the opportunity to be seen. Something you don't have because there's no one that knows the real you. Not really. They would think you were horrible. You know from experience.

Sometimes you think you're horrible.

But he saw you. Maybe not all of you, but a surprising amount from such a small glimpse. What would he see if he could look deeper?

Would he still want to look? Or would he eventually be repulsed, too?

You go to stand in front of your laptop, which you keep powered down and closed now. You also unplugged your webcam, closed your blinds, and put little pieces of tape over both of your phone's cameras because you're convinced that's how he knew every time you were ready to block him. He was watching.

You don't think it can stop him from finding some way to keep tabs on you, but it'll slow him down. You wonder if that will amuse him or annoy him. Probably amuse him.

And why the fuck do you care? Why are you thinking about him at all? You don't even know who he is. Plus, he blackmailed and threatened you, for fuck's sake! You should be phoning the police! At the very least, you should never think about him again.

But you do. You think about him a lot. Because he could be almost anyone behind that anonymity, and the mystery and possibility are…interesting.

He clearly has money. He's smart and irritatingly perceptive. 'Don't forget he has a talent with technology apparently,' you think wryly—which is a massive understatement. He has to be some kind of tech guy, right? Who else can hack into all of your personal devices, track down phone numbers and addresses, uncover your passwords—which you've now changed as well, and poke around your bank records? So through the most basic deduction, you know that much at least.

But is he attractive? Funny? How old is he? Does he have hobbies that aren't stalking you? And can he carry on a conversation when he isn't hiding behind a screen? God, if he turned out to be just like other men and you had to listen to him prattle on, you might give up and join a convent for the vow of celibacy alone.

And, though you shouldn't even be having this thought, you can't help but wonder if he's good in bed. Would he get you off, or does he last thirty seconds and then roll over and fall asleep? You think that's a fair thing to be particular about. You're not about to waste your time only to never have an orgasm. You've done that plenty of times in your life already.

You should be worried that he's a serial killer and you're his next victim or that he's planning to keep you chained up in his basement or sell your organs on the black market. But if he wanted to do that, you'd already be dead because he's been watching you for months and you hadn't a clue. He's had plenty of opportunities.

Unless this is part of a game. 

You could always find out. He told you the link would stay active. You aren't sure if you want to click on it again, but you don't not want to.

No. It's too soon. Before you make any decisions, you should get your affairs in order because you have a former life to wrap up first. And you should give yourself time to process. To work through the fear, the anger, the curiosity, and, most of all, why it aroused you. Not just physically, you acknowledge, but mentally as well. There was something in your verbal sparring that appealed to you as much as it appealed to him. 

You want to know why. You want to understand the part of yourself that feels almost neglected now. Withered from disuse—from hiding behind the lie, as he might put it. And you can't face him again until you do because going back to him with your eyes wide open feels important. There can be no half measures.

What if you dive in and realize you've made a terrible mistake? That seems far more complicated than just walking away now while you have the chance. So if you click that link again, you want to be sure.

Then why do you keep finding yourself standing in your spare room and staring at your computer?

You close your camgirl account without any warning or final stream. Once you realize you never have to do it again, the thought of doing it even one last time is nauseating. There aren't many hoops to jump through, which surprises you. And hitting that confirmation button feels so amazing, you almost text the mystery number to say thank you. Almost.

Unfortunately, the month isn't even half over yet so you're immediately flooded with refund requests. They paid for a full month, after all. You roll your eyes as your phone starts vibrating with email notifications. Too bad for them that you read through the terms and service and know the website's refund policy. So you take one last pleasure in hitting decline on every single one.

You also quit your day job.

You walk in two days after your experience with the mystery man—late, holding a takeout coffee, and wearing jeans and sunglasses—and hand your notice to your boss. He uncomfortably asks why you're leaving the company, and you smile and tell him you found a different opportunity. When he asks where, you take more pleasure in declining to answer and taking a noisy sip from your cup. 

You plan to spend the rest of your time there doing absolutely nothing except scrolling through your phone or looking up art schools on your work computer. Hopefully they'll tell you that you don't have to finish up your two weeks just to get you to leave. You could've simply walked out without giving them notice at all if you really wanted. But after a single day of watching your boss squirm as he tries to figure out how to handle you, you know you made the right decision.

Now you need to make a few more.

You also learn something about yourself. You learn the thing that's been missing and why you enjoyed being so openly cruel on camera. You have been hiding behind a lie.

More specifically, you've been denying a simple truth to them and to yourself: You're better than all of them, and you take extraordinary pleasure in reminding them.

It feels good to finally be yourself. To stop pretending to care about all of the bullshit you've never cared about. Office politics, your so-called friends' newest drama, news that someone is getting married or having children, the latest show people are watching, sports, the weather, or the endless updates about small changes in people's lives. God, last week your coworker got a new car and would not shut up about all of the features. Oh, does it connect to Bluetooth, Sharon? Can you make phone calls from your steering wheel? How fascinating, please tell me more about how difficult it was to choose between a slate grey or tan interior, I'm sure I still have some will to live tucked away that you haven't drained yet.

Up until now, you've made yourself small. Palatable. You pretended to be normal. To want some of the same things everyone else wants so you fit in because you could hear your mother's voice in your head saying, "What would people think?" You bit your tongue so you didn't tell them to please just shut up. So when you finally got the chance to be honest on stream, you relished it.

Because before you were afraid that if you gave in to your darker impulses, you would take it too far. That it would turn you into a monster. You realize now they're the ones that are afraid. They can't wait to tear a woman down. To insult her, call her names, or to degrade her in hopes that will allow them to keep power over her. You were only worried about becoming a monster because you were told it was monstrous to be yourself. To know what you want and to take it. Especially when it's something you shouldn't want in the first place. Something improper.

Well, you're finally starting to figure out exactly what you want.

That evening after work, you sit in front of your laptop.

You haven't opened it yet. You're just sitting there, contemplating doing so because you want to know how it feels to consider taking the next step. If even doing that feels wrong, then you have an answer. That would make your decision easy.

But it doesn't. You reach out to rest your hand on top of the lid and have to stop yourself from opening it. One step at a time. To be sure.

You do that several more times throughout the evening before giving up.

You wake the next morning almost two hours before your alarm—because you had planned on sleeping in since you no longer care if you're late for work—and head straight to the other room. You slept like shit. All night you tossed and turned and fought getting up to pace more circles or to stare at your computer. Because you wanted to see how it felt to go further.

You frantically wrench open your laptop, desperate to finally know, and then you're staring at the black screen. There are smudge marks and some dust visible on it in the morning light filtering through your window. They mar your reflection as it peers, manic and disheveled, back out at you.

It still doesn't feel wrong.

How far can you go before it does? You press the power button.

It takes forever to boot up. Or at least it seems as if it does because your computer isn't that old. You're reminded of how it felt the last time you did this. How your heart had pounded out of fear. It's pounding now, but out of anticipation and impatience. When the login screen finally pops up, you have to retype your password because you hit the keys too quickly and make a mistake.

The sight of your desktop is a relief first because at last you'll have more of an answer to sit with. Then you feel…nothing. Well, no, not nothing. Just an absence of the fear and revulsion you had been looking for. There is definitely something there—nameless and building in your stomach, and crawling its way into your chest.

You move the mouse pointer around the screen. Out of habit, you open Instagram. You manage to scroll for about thirty seconds before you sigh in disgust and take the steps to fully delete your account. Then you go through the rest of your social media and delete or deactivate all of those as well. There isn't a single thing on any of them you care about enough to save. It's freeing in a way you hadn't expected.

You find yourself moving to open your inbox before you finally tell yourself no, that's plenty far for now. You've pushed this enough for one go. Besides, it's six thirty in the morning. You don't even know if he's awake, and you still have work—as much as you don't care about that part. It puts an expiration on doing it now and you don't want to feel rushed.

Instead you get up, go take a long shower where you sing to yourself for the first time in years, and take your time getting ready. You're going to wear a low cut top and a high slit skirt today, which are against the dress code like the jeans were, just to really get under their skin.

You leave your computer on and open. You also plug your webcam back in. You know it's going to send a message, and you want him thinking about what that could be.

Day two of work is just as satisfying as day one. More so because so many of them are flustered by a bit of cleavage and thigh. As if they've never seen either before. You briefly imagine wearing a high collared Victorian dress and scandalously baring your ankle while they gasp and clutch at their chests.

They still don't say anything, but you catch your boss and a few of the other various managers watching you resentfully from across the open floor over the half walls of the cubicles—you didn't even have a full cubicle for an office. How depressing is that? You give them a little wave and a wink back, and it sends them scurrying off.

On your way home, you get a takeout because you think you've earned a curry, and you grab a beer from your fridge. Then you kick off your heels and flop onto the couch. You don't turn on the TV because there's nothing that will entertain you as much as reminiscing about the last few days.

Well. Almost nothing.

You set the half empty takeout container down on your coffee table, the distraction and enjoyment of it suddenly gone. Because now you're thinking about him and your laptop again. You know it's still turned on in the other room, not twenty feet from you. All you would have to do is go in there, open your email, and click the link. It would be that simple.

You made sure it was that simple this morning, you realize.

You get up from the couch, but instead of heading to the spare room, you go to the bathroom. Then you examine yourself in the mirror to make sure you don't have curry stains on your lips or chin. Your makeup is still fine because, well, you did basically nothing at work all day so there's no need to mess with it. Plus, if you have a fresh face of makeup, he'll know you touched it up beforehand. For him. And you can't have that.

You have your hair pinned up, though, so you take that down for something more casual and less office professional. You also undo the top button on your already low dipped blouse. If you move a certain way or lean forward too far, the cup of your bra is visible. It's a wine color that stands out against the champagne of your shirt. You hope it'll be enough of a distraction to throw him off, even for a moment.

Once you're satisfied with your appearance, you make your way to the bedroom. But before you sit down, you toss the annoying, frilly pillows off the bed and into the hallway—you have to resist tossing them out the window—and you throw the blanket on there instead. It looks less ridiculous that way and more like an actual bed someone might sleep in. It also helps you feel like you're truly moving on from that chapter of your life.

Finally, you're in front of your computer. You've been looking forward to this part all day because it's a crucial step. If you can do this and still be okay, you know you're ready.

It takes one click to pull up your inbox.

You pause and wait for some kind of revelation or sign, but none come. There's only the same eager curiosity you've been struck with the past few days. The familiar anticipation of knowing. You want to sit with it a minute, just in case it takes a bit to creep up on you. So you clear out the spam and gleefully deny a few more refund requests in your second account first to tidy everything up. Then, with nothing left to distract you and no more excuses to put it off, you open the email.

The address it was sent from is a random series of letters and numbers. You hadn't noticed that before, you only wanted to know what the message said. You wonder if it's even a real email address. Whether he took the time to make it, carefully crafting each step as he set the snare for his trap. And here you are, stepping right back into it—assuming you had escaped it at all.

The link stares back at you.

You hover over it, only to find that you're nervous. How can you be nervous? You weren't even nervous the first time. Scared and angry, yes, but not this. This is something else. But is it enough to stop?

Absolutely not.

What's wrong with you? Why are you second-guessing yourself now? You want this. At the very least, you want to know more. So why deny yourself? You said you were done doing that. No more letting other people's standards and expectations control you. You take what you want. Who cares why?

'Because he did see you, that's why,' your mind supplies before you can stop it. That flutter in your stomach returns. With a strange rush of confidence, and before you can second guess yourself again, you click the link.

When the site loads, you half expect him to already be there. But he isn't. So you sit there, alone in the chatroom, staring at your own face. After a few moments, you check—and recheck—your hair and makeup. Then you berate yourself for fretting. You're better than this, even though you know your appearance is one of the few weapons in your arsenal that you can use against him.

Eleven minutes pass. Each one feels longer than the last. You want to get up and pace some more to let off your nervous energy, but you don't want him to show up and see you panicking. It would start this whole thing off on the wrong foot. Namely, with you at a disadvantage.

Just when you start to think you've made a mistake and a complete fool of yourself because he's not going to even show up, that black square appears in the corner with an electronic chime.

You stare at it, wide-eyed.

You hadn't really thought past this part. You were too focused on simply preparing yourself to click the link. Now you aren't sure what to say. So you wait again, only to be accompanied by silence. The chat box sits empty.

He's waiting for you, you realize.

No. He's trying to force you to give in and speak first so he has the upper hand.

So, he likes to be in control, then. Makes sense, given how all of this started in the first place. Now the only question is how in control he likes to be. Because the thought isn't necessarily unappealing.

"Hello," you finally say quietly.

I wasn't expecting you back so soon.

You can feel his smirk through the text. Oh right, he's infuriating. You scowl at your screen. "First message and you're already making me regret this."

Come now, I think I'm allowed to savor an I told you so, given the circumstances.

"Yep, this was a mistake." You move to grab your mouse and close the window.

I can make it up to you.

That makes you stop.

"And how are you going to do that?" You ask with suspicion.

Ask me a question.

"Any question?" You lean forward and rest your folded arms on the desk, intrigued and not bothering to hide it. That's why you're here, after all. To learn more about him. You can see your bra peeking out on the screen, and you hope now he's feeling something other than smug.

Within reason.

"Aha, there's the catch. Can't have me getting too clever, can you?" You tap your finger on the edge of your keyboard as you consider what you want to ask. You know he won't do something like turn on his camera or show you his face, and most of your other questions about him will require more trust first. So what will he give you?

"What's your name? It seems only fair I know that at the very least since you know so much about me."

Interesting question.

My name is David.

"David?" You repeat out loud, surprised.

Yes.

"Hmm. I wasn't expecting David."

What were you expecting?

"I don't know. Something unbearable like Reginald or Bertram. David is so…" You wave your hand in the air as you search for the word.

So what?

"Unassuming." You tilt your head. "Are you unassuming, David? Someone that everyone looks at, but no one ever sees?"

See, you are very clever.

"It's one of my better qualities, David."

I enjoy hearing my name on your lips.

"Oh, do you?" You cock an eyebrow.

If I were there with you, I would like to see what else I might enjoy from your lips.

You surprise yourself by blushing.

Clearly you might enjoy it, too.

"Is this how you think you're going to win me over? Saying filthy things to me? Because I can get back onto my stream for that." You try to sound unimpressed rather than flustered.

Not at all. Saying filthy things to you is just a bonus. Especially when you blush so nicely for me.

"You caught me off guard, that's all."

I'm sure. Not that I want to seem ungrateful, but why are you here?

"Well, my life didn't implode, which means you kept your word."

I did.

"Not that it would have mattered anyway because I quit both of my jobs, deleted all of my social media accounts, and, frankly, I realized I don't give a shit what my mother thinks." In a lower voice you add, "In fact, you might actually be doing me a favor there." 

Did it feel good?

"It really did." You want to groan and relish in it because you've never felt this free before. It was marvelous. You just don't want to do so in front of him.

I'm glad. Do you trust me now?

"Absolutely not," you laugh. "But I suppose I'm…"

I intrigue you.

"I wouldn't go that far, but you have my attention. Now I want to figure you out."

Not because of the money?

You bite the inside of your lip as you consider how to respond. "I thought about that a lot, actually. And the answer is no, not because of the money. If it had been a factor in my decision at all, I wouldn't be here."

So you're here to satisfy your curiosity.

"Among other things." You give the camera a heavy lidded glance.

Sounds promising.

Will you leave when you're satisfied?

"I suppose that depends on how satisfied I am." A coy grin tugs at the corner of your mouth.

Then maybe I shouldn't satisfy you at all.

"Oh no, you'll definitely want to avoid doing that. Or else I might get bored and leave anyway."

Ah. We can't have that, now, can we?

"No we cannot." Then you grimace and ask, "You don't talk about things like sports or politics by way of conversation, do you?"

No.

"No interest in keeping up with the lives of acquaintances or the royal family?"

No.

"Thank god," you sigh in relief. "I'm done politely listening to people blather on so that would have been a deal breaker."

Lucky for me, then.

You really have had an exciting few days. I must say, this new confidence suits you. You look lovely.

"Thank you." You let out a genuine smile. "I feel like I can breathe for the first time in…well, a while. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

You do, but I must admit it was not a selfless act. I wanted to see you like this and I am enjoying the fruits of my labor.

"Only like this?" You intend for it to sound teasing, but anticipation bleeds into your voice. 

For now.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest. "Can I ask you more questions?"

Of course. As long as you understand I may not answer them yet.

"That's fine." You shrug. "What you choose not to answer will be telling enough."

Very clever girl.

"Okay, next question," you blurt out to avoid blushing again, only to realize you didn't have a question ready. So you ask the first thing that comes to mind. "Are you rich?"

Yes.

"Yeah, that one seemed fairly obvious." You glance up at the camera. "How rich?"

I thought you weren't here because of the money.

"I'm not! I'm simply curious. And just because I don't care about it doesn't mean it's not a part of who you are."

Be honest. You're a little bit interested in the money.

"Fine," you say begrudgingly. "It's on the list of perks, but it's at the end. It wasn't a factor in why I'm here, and it won't affect how this turns out. How's that?"

Better. You know I enjoy your honesty.

So what's at the top of the list?

"Well, it was whether or not you would eventually bore me to death, but that doesn't seem to be a pressing concern."

I'll take that as a compliment.

What about now?

"I suppose now it's figuring out what you look like. Though I should be asking whether or not you're a dangerous man since you stalked and blackmailed me."

Now there's a question.

Well, go on. Ask me.

"Alright," you laugh. "Are you a dangerous man, David?"

Yes.

You blink in surprise because you weren't expecting him to just say yes. "How so?"

Where's the fun in that? I thought you were going to figure me out.

"It was worth a shot," you mumble to yourself. You adjust in your seat as you think of how to rephrase the question. "Are you dangerous to me?"

There's no response for several, very long, concerning seconds.

Would you like me to be?

You blush again, your face growing warm as it creeps over your cheeks. "I can't answer that."

Why not?

"Because I don't know what dangerous means."

Then I guess you'll have to find that out, too, won't you?

"It might be a little difficult when you're just text on a screen."

I don't have to be.

"Does that mean you'll turn your camera on?" You perk up in your chair.

No.

"What about your microphone?" You add hopefully.

Not yet.

You sag back into your chair, disappointed, but not surprised. "Then we continue to be at an impasse, don't we, David?"

You're still saying my name.

"I'm getting used to it. Would you like me to stop?"

No.

You lean in towards the camera, pouting your lips, and let your eyelids go heavy as you stare into the lense. "Is it getting you hard, David?"

Don't do that.

"Do what?" You ask innocently.

Talk to me like I'm just some man watching your stream.

"I thought you might like it."

I don't. I only want to hear those things when you mean it.

"How do you know I don't mean it now?" You flutter your eyelashes.

Remember, I can hear the difference.

"Fine," you sigh, your expression and body language immediately returning to normal. "Then I don't know what else to do here."

Ask me another question.

"Alright." You tap your chin in thought. You know you need to regain some power here because so far you've been doing more reacting to him than you intended. How can you throw him off balance? "Have you ever touched yourself while watching any of my streams?"

No.

"I find that surprising," you say with a hint of skepticism.

Why's that?

"Because you went to all this trouble of stalking me and blackmailing me. I assumed that meant you really enjoyed my streams."

I did enjoy your streams.

"But not in the way most men do." The disbelief is still evident in your voice.

It wouldn't have been to you, would it have? It would have been to the lie and, therefore, not particularly satisfying.

"True. But I thought you saw me anyway."

Seeing past it and seeing you without your mask are two very different things.

"Okay. So you don't get off to me."

I didn't say that.

"Oh," you breathe out. As if this is a shock to you. But as he said, suspecting and seeing him confirm it are two very different things. "What do you think about when you do?" You purr as you lean in close again, suddenly very interested in his answer.

Do you really want to know?

"I'm curious, remember?"

I think about you when you were angry and begging.

You lick your lips before you can stop yourself.

Only on your knees for me.

Then you swallow hard. Because that paints a descriptive picture of what he likes. You can see it clearly, and you would be lying if you said there wasn't a responding swell of dampness in your panties at the thought of it.

"Are you touching yourself right now?"

Would you like me to be?

Would you? Is that something you want? Because it occurs to you that you could have it if you want it. You could have him sliding his fist around his erection and moaning for you if you so choose.

"Not really." You give a dismissive shrug, both for him and yourself. And it's not a lie. The thought is appealing and you think it's something you want eventually. But you aren't ready for it yet. Not until you know more about him first. After all, he could be anyone behind that screen. It's both a blessing and a curse. "I don't think you would anyway. Not yet."

Why not?

"Because if you did all of this just for a wank, that would be so very boring. And you aren't that, are you?"

No. I'm not.

But you had to think about it.

"I did," you admit. "When I don't have to think about it first, then I'll give you your show. And my answer will be much different."

I look forward to stripping you of your hesitation.

You notice the word play and give the camera a quick, amused smirk. "You'll be wanting to answer more questions for me then."

Ask.

"Speaking of shows. Do you make a habit of watching cam girls?"

No.

"So just occasionally, then?"

No.

You stare at his responses in confusion. "How did you find me if you weren't scrolling through the website?"

Call it luck.

"They used me in an ad, didn't they?" You scowl.

If I said yes, would that satisfy your curiosity?

"You know it wouldn't."

Then we'll stick with luck.

"Infuriating," you huff. "Will you at least tell me eventually?"

Someday. But not today.

"Alright," you relent. "Because I'll be honest, I really am terribly curious. And I want to know what it was that gave me away."

That second part I can answer.

The first stream I saw, you told your audience that they were lucky to even see you on camera because in person you would never give any of them the time of day. Then you took a deep breath. To everyone else it may have seemed like you were gasping in horror at your own words, but I saw the shudder. The roll of your shoulders. The pleasure. You weren't horrified, you were delighted. That was the moment you had my attention.

You remember that stream. You remember the exact feeling he's describing. How you fought to seem contrite afterwards and arched your breasts towards the camera in hopes no one noticed.

But he noticed. He was there.

"And what was the moment you decided you wanted me?" You whisper, unsure whether your microphone even picked it up.

When you did the same thing the next night.

I thought you were very attractive, of course, but you were never more attractive than in that moment of truth. I wanted more of it.

So I looked.

"You didn't just look. You watched me," you say accusingly.

I did.

"When I was vulnerable and didn't know I was being watched."

Yes.

"Doesn't that make you feel…bad?" You finish lamely. "Or guilty? Even a little?"

Do YOU feel bad now knowing that I did?

"I…" You trail off. You did feel awful in the beginning. It made you sick with fear. How could it not? But now? After the last few days—after talking to him—do you still feel bad? "I'm not sure."

Because I don't.

"You should."

And you should probably still be angry and afraid, yet here we are.

Annoyingly, he has a point there. So both of you are a little fucked up then.

"I have another question." You consider the camera. "Why didn't you just approach me or hit on me in the usual way? Why blackmail me to get my attention?"

You've already said yourself that you find the usual things boring.

"I didn't mean stalking!"

Didn't you? You like the attention, even if you only learned about it afterwards.

'He's right again,' you think. You do like knowing that he was looking. That you've finally been seen by someone that likes what they see. Someone that understands. Which also gives you the answer to his earlier question: You don't feel bad about it, either. Not anymore.

God, so maybe more than a little fucked up.

"Okay, maybe I do. But I think this is more than that. Perhaps you feel confident through the screen in a way you aren't in person."

That's a good guess.

"Am I right?"

No. I simply enjoyed doing it this way and watching you squirm.

"Asshole," you mutter. "It had a very high potential to blow up in your face."

I disagree.

"What if I didn't watch that video of myself? What if I'd just blocked you?"

I would have sent it from a different number with additional threats.

"And if I still refused? Would you have gone through with it?"

I knew I wouldn't have to.

"That," you cross your arms, "is not an answer."

And yet it's my answer. I knew you wouldn't deny me.

You scoff in disbelief. "Are you unaccustomed to hearing the word no?"

People say no to me all the time.

"You really don't like it, though, do you?"

No. Do you?

"Of course not," you laugh. And you're surprised to hear that it's genuine rather than sarcastic.

I can't imagine people telling you no very often.

You laugh a little harder. "You need a better imagination, then."

Even men?

"Well," the laughter trails off and you glance down at your desk, "I'd have to ask something of them first. I don't often. It's usually not worth it." You look back up. "You've told me no several times already."

For now.

There's a flush of heat in your belly that works its way between your legs and up to your neck. How does he keep doing that? No face. No voice. Yet somehow you keep ending up moments away from rubbing yourself against the seat of your chair.

"What about you? Do women tell you no, or are you so rich and handsome that they throw themselves at you?" You tease.

You wait, but there's no answer and you start to regret the question. You wonder if he's self-conscious about his looks and that's another reason he's doing this, or if you were right about his confidence when he isn't behind a screen.

"You don't have to answer that." You straighten up and your expression turns apologetic. "It was a clumsy attempt at flirting and to learn more about you."

No, they don't.

"Oh." You fidget uncomfortably for a moment. "If I'm being honest, that's actually a relief."

Why a relief?

"Because the type of men that would say yes to that question are usually intolerable. Besides," you shrug, "there are other important qualities to have that aren't looks. Like being intriguing, for example."

I can hear when you're lying.

"How am I lying?"

Looks are important to you.

"Of course they are. I never said they weren't! Only that there is more to attraction than just looks."

Would you still consider me if I were unattractive?

"Well." You stop to think about your response. You know you have to choose your words carefully in case this is a sensitive topic. "I can't promise anything because I don't know what you look like, but I will say if good looks were all I cared about, I would have an actual dating life."

I believe you.

"Does that mean you don't think you're attractive?" You tentatively ask.

Oh, I never said that. I just said women don't throw themselves at me. I'm far too busy.

"You…" You snap your mouth shut in anger. He was fucking with you. To see how you would react, and you actually felt bad for a moment! "God, you're infuriating."

You like it.

You do. There's a slick heat inside of your underwear that betrays exactly how much you like it.

"And you seem to be trying awfully hard to find the limit of that statement." You scowl.

I happen to like pressing your buttons.

"I noticed." You give a small, irritated huff through your nose. "You know, I also can't help but notice I've been doing most of the talking here. It's your turn to ask me a question."

That seems like fair retaliation.

There's a brief pause while he, presumably, thinks of something to ask you.

What was the source of your hesitation earlier? When I asked if you wanted me to touch myself.

"I want to know more about you first," you answer matter of factly.

Why?

"For several reasons. It's a very vulnerable position for me to be in since you can see me and I can't see you, so I want to trust you before this turns into that."

What are the other reasons?

"The more I get to know you, the more interested I might be. And the more interested I am, the more I'll want to take my clothes off. Just for you. Doesn't that sound so much better than a halfhearted strip tease?" You give the camera your best enticing look. "I think it does."

I agree. It does.

"Besides, didn't you promise me that you would make me want to touch myself for you? So make me, David. Give me more to work with."

You should be careful with what you say. Or you may accidentally ask for something you haven't thought through.

You blush and shift in your chair. "How do you know I'm not completely aware of what I'm asking?"

Because you wouldn't ask me to make you if you were.

You have to bite your lip to stop a whimper that nearly makes its way out of your mouth. You also have to fight back your initial instinct of looking into the camera and repeating, 'Make me, David.' You know that's pushing it, though. For now. But god, do you want to.

"Point taken," you force out through the tension. "Why do you ask, anyway?"

I wanted to know how I can remove that hesitation. Now I know.

"Eager, are we?" You tease.

Yes.

Can you blame me? The thing I'm impatient for is you.

"God, David," you gasp. "I think it's you that needs to be careful with what you're saying."

I know what I'm saying. But for your sake I will.

"Thank you," you exhale in relief. Your control and conviction can only take so much, and your grasp on them is weakening. And he knows it.

Does it bother you that I want you?

"Not really. A lot of men want me."

No they don't. They want your body. I want you.

"I still don't understand why."

I see something in you that mirrors something in me.

"You see yourself in me, do you?" You give the camera a teasing, seductive smile.

You're very good at that.

"At what?" You ask innocently.

Using flirtation as a means of misdirection when you're uncomfortable.

"How am I uncomfortable?"

Because you want to know what I see and that scares you.

"You think you could tell me truths about myself that I don't already know?" You raise an eyebrow.

No, it's not that.

"What would scare me then?"

That you want to hear it from me.

You mentally shake off the immediate denial because you know he's right. You want to know exactly what he sees. You want to hear your own truths from him because it's thrilling. And because if he knows and he's still here…

"Fine. Maybe I do because I'm curious just how much you really see."

I've seen quite a lot.

"Try me," you challenge.

Do you have many friends?

You frown and glance down at the top of your desk. "Not many."

Why not?

"Because...I find it difficult to get along with most people, I suppose. What does this have to do with anything?"

I'm getting there.

Would you like to know why you don't?

"This should be good." You lean back in your chair. "Go on."

You've always felt different, and it makes connecting with other people almost impossible. You try, of course, because you get lonely. Humans are social creatures, after all. Either you feel nothing towards them and they annoy you, or they keep you at arm's length once they start to see the real you.

How old were you when you started faking it, I wonder? When you realized they don't like who you are when you aren't wearing the mask. I bet you were young when you learned to never take it off. That's why you found it so easy to lie on camera and why you were so good at what you were doing. You've been doing it most of your life.

You sit with that for a moment.

You expect it to hurt because, objectively, what he said should be painful and it is lonely. But you're already fully aware of the truth, and you know he wasn't just saying it to be cruel. You asked. That's like being upset with a mirror for showing you your reflection.

Though you suspect he still hoped you would squirm when faced with it because he likes making you squirm.

"I found it easy to lie to those men because I don't care about them or their feelings." You sneer at the thought. "They were a means to an end. And I can't connect with people because I find the things they care about to be mind numbingly dull. Unfortunately that usually means themselves."

And in the beginning you said you weren't that interesting.

"Is that how you feel then?" Your voice softens. "Lonely."

Yes.

"I guess we're both in excellent company." You mean for your accompanying smile to be lighthearted, but you can tell that it doesn't meet your eyes, and a hint of your own loneliness weighs down the corners of your mouth.

I certainly think so.

Do you want to know what else I see?

"Yes," you reply without hesitation.

It's not just that those men were on the other end of the camera, is it? Or that they're men. You've always felt a deep disgust for everyone around you, and the camera gave you an outlet. The money may have been the reason you started, but that was the reason you kept going.

You raise your eyebrows, impressed. "Interesting. And devastatingly accurate, as usual. But do you want to know a secret?" You lean in close and stage whisper, "I already figured all of this out."

Did you now?

"I did." You give the camera a smug smile and lean back in your chair. "I've been doing some self reflection since our last chat. Couldn't have you catching me off guard all the time."

Clearly.

"Now, that doesn't mean I don't want to read what you have to say. I still like knowing just how much you see."

I'll keep that in mind.

Did you figure anything else out about yourself? Because if you did, I want to hear it.

"I figured out that I've been denying myself the things that I want because I felt bad for wanting them. And the only reason I felt bad is because I was told I should."

And what is it that you want?

"Well, that's the question, isn't it? I'm still attempting to work that out." Then in a lower tone, "But it's becoming clearer to me."

I would offer my assistance, but you seem to be doing a wonderful job of peeling off those layers on your own.

But I also wouldn't object to helping you take them off if you asked me to.

"Are you serious?" You give your camera an astonished look. "I'm merely unraveling the thread you pulled, David. None of this was possible without you. You've helped me finally see myself so clearly that at first I was worried I only wanted to come back here because, between that and the money, I felt like I owed you something. But now I realize it's because I want you to keep pulling. I want to see what's underneath. What I've been denied—what I've been denying this whole time. And maybe…" You trail off, suddenly unsure because you almost let slip something vulnerable that still scares you.

If he saw you, would he still want to look? Or would he upend your life only to leave when you became too much? 

Maybe what? Don't stop now. I want to hear what you were about to say. And I want to hear the truth.

You take a deep breath in hopes that, in doing so, you'll find your courage.

You don't, but it's too late anyway. You've shown him a seam that's still neatly stitched. You can't pretend now that it was nothing because he'll latch onto it, and you can't lie to him because he'll know. As scary as it is, all you have is the truth. And he asked for it.

"Maybe for once someone won't be repulsed by what's there." Your voice sounds so weak. You hate feeling this exposed. Leaving yourself open like this is just an invitation for someone to hurt you—actually hurt you, like slipping a knife into a gap in your armor. Now you may as well be handing him the knife, too. But you push past that panic and fear, and hold tight to the truth. "Maybe…maybe I've been hoping you won't be."

You're practically fidgeting in your chair with anxiety as you wait to see if he draws blood with his response or plunges said metaphorical knife between your ribs. And to your surprise, his response comes rather quickly.

Do you think I would be here if I'd seen anything in you that came close to repulsing me? It's your disguise that I find repulsive. It's that you had to wear it at all that repulses me. I am restraining myself from tearing it off of you. I've only ever wanted to see more.

Repulsed?

How could I find such a perfect creature repulsive?

Oh.

"David," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "God, I…I don't know what to say."

Your heart is pounding against the walls of your ribcage, but no longer in fear. Not even in arousal. It's relief. Gratitude. Thrill. Anticipation. The desire to hear more of anything he has to tell you gnaws at your belly. You're starving for it.

That you even believe a single thing about yourself could be repulsive only strengthens my conviction that the world is full of monsters that hide behind their civility and their self-righteousness. They tell themselves they're better than us when the only difference is we're honest.

"But I haven't been honest, have I? Not always."

You are now.

"I'm trying to be," you correct him.

You've wanted to be this whole time. Do you think you would have embraced so many truths about yourself so quickly if you hadn't?

"That's a fair point." You lit a flame under your entire life with only the slightest encouragement from a complete stranger that was blackmailing you. To say that you've yearned to be free of it—to be yourself—would be an understatement. Now that fire is spreading and you don't even care enough to watch it burn. Not when you can look to him instead. "I have wanted it, I just never realized I did. Until you."

See? The money never mattered. It was just a means to an end, too. This was always my gift to you.

You let out a breathy, incredulous laugh. "Who are you, David?"

What happened to wanting to figure me out?

"That's still the plan, but I realize now I may have bitten off more than I can chew."

Don't worry, I won't let you choke.

Unless you want to.

You don't stop the pained moan that comes out of your mouth as you're tossed from feeling something approaching tender straight back into arousal. "My god, I'm getting whiplash," you mumble to yourself.

He doesn't say anything and you don't expect him to. His silence betrays how smug he's currently feeling just fine.

There's a moment of quiet then, and you glance around the room, willing yourself to calm down so your mind isn't trying to drag you in two directions at once. As you do so, your eyes catch the clock on the wall. You quickly do a double take and then look at your computer to confirm the time is correct. Because you're surprised to discover nearly an hour and a half has passed. It felt like ten minutes.

"My god. Is it really past seven?"

It is.

"I can't recall ever having a conversation where time just flew by. Usually it drags and I can't escape fast enough." You shake your head. "You know, being around people has always been exhausting and I couldn't figure out why. It's because wearing the mask is exhausting, isn't it? I was dedicating so much effort to not letting it slip and I didn't even realize. With you it's…different. I'm still worn out, but only because learning to keep it off is also exhausting. Just, you know, in the same way going to the gym or accomplishing a task that requires labor is. It's a rewarding ache." 

It gets easier. Like with anything, the more you practice, the better you get.

"You speak from experience."

I do.

"How long?"

About fifteen years.

"Fifteen years?" For a brief moment you wonder how old he is, but you aren't sure if he'll tell you more than his name yet. You file it away for next time. "And you just…live without it? Do whatever you want?"

Oh, I still wear it occasionally, but it's tactical now instead of habit. It can be a very useful tool.

"I hadn't considered that," you mutter.

Sometimes it's also necessary for survival.

"Survival?" You recoil in surprise. "Jesus, how could that be necessary?"

The world isn't kind to people like us. Besides, isn't that what you've been doing this whole time?

"I always thought it was just a way to fit in, but I suppose that was its own form of survival."

See? You learn quickly.

"It helps when you're being hand fed the answers, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless."

You should give yourself more credit. You're quite clever, remember?

"Not something I'm used to doing out loud," you shrug. "I'm sure I'll develop the muscle memory soon enough."

You will.

"So…are we winding down? Is that what's happening here? Because otherwise I don't usually have conversations about the clock."

Why? Is it your bedtime?

You know he's teasing, but you can feel how heavy your eyelids are getting. You were serious when you said all of this wore you out, even if you find yourself not wanting to go. "No, but it could be. I am getting tired."

Do you have an early morning?

"Not really. I technically still have work tomorrow, but I've done nothing except scroll through my phone and mess around on my computer since I gave my notice.."

How rebellious of you.

"Hardly," you chuckle. "I've been hoping they'll get annoyed and tell me they don't need me to stay the whole two weeks."

Couldn't you simply walk out on your own?

"Oh, I could. Doing it this way is so satisfying, though. They're furious, but what are they going to do? Fire me?" You grin. "No, they can only bite their tongues and watch it happen."

Then by all means, scroll away. Wouldn't want to come between you and your satisfaction.

You blush and look up at the camera from beneath your eyelashes. "You wouldn't?"

No. Your satisfaction comes first.

"Fuck," you hiss. At the same time you think, 'At least I would get that orgasm.' And that thought causes a potent swell of lust to pool between your thighs. Your breath hitches. "Now I really do think I need to go before I do something I might regret in the morning."

Would you?

Regret it?

You stop to consider whether or not you're ready—if you've learned enough—only to discover you no longer know the answer to that question. Which probably means…

You hesitated.

"I did," you sigh, disappointed, even as you remind yourself it's the right thing to do. And a good rule to hold yourself to.

There was more conflict on your face than introspection this time.

"Then you already know how I'm feeling."

I'll get you there.

That confidence that bothered you just a few days ago is now thrilling. "You'd better. You promised, David." 

It's a promise I not only intend to keep, but will enjoy keeping.

"Good." You give your camera a wistful smile. "Last time I couldn't wait to close this window. Now I'm reluctant to go. That should probably concern me."

Does it?

"No. It doesn't."

Good.

"You're feeling quite pleased with yourself right now, aren't you?"

As a matter of fact, yes I am.

Because I'm once again savoring an I told you so.

"Infuriating," you sigh, but without the irritation this time. 

Take the remainder of the evening to rest and do some self reflection, as you called it. I'm sure you have plenty to mull over before next time, and I'm eager to hear what new truths you uncover.

"You know I will. Especially the rest part."

Good. I wouldn't want to wear you out too soon.

"Don't worry, I have excellent stamina." You give the camera a wink. "Goodnight, David."

Goodnight.

Before you leave the spare room, you pick up your phone and peel the tape off both of the camera lenses. In doing so, you also quickly learn that tape was a terrible idea because it leaves behind an adhesive residue that you're forced to rub off, which takes a minute. You have to keep opening your camera to make sure there aren't any smudges.

Once that's clean, you completely unbutton your blouse, exposing your bra and your stomach. Then you go down to your knees on the carpet, hold your phone high, look up into the lense with a heated, angry expression, and take a selfie. 

A selfie of you posing the way he pictures you when he touches himself to the thought of you.

You text it to him with the message: "Some inspiration. No mask."

A good twenty minutes later, while you're in the bathroom brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes.

Stunning. I was very inspired.

Fuck. It's going to be another long night and workday, isn't it?

Chapter 3 ->

A/N: Hi. Hello. Yes, Reader needs therapy, stat. Alas, she's not going to go to therapy. She's going to go fuck David Robey, serial killer, instead. Very normal and healthy behavior. (LOVE that for her, though.) Also I cannot begin to tell you how empowering it is to write her. How freeing. I ask you, who amongst us hasn't worn a mask to hide themselves or felt bad for wanting something? Who hasn't wanted to be seen by someone that can't look away? Who hasn't wanted to shed expectations like snakeskin and then go absolutely apeshit? Because I sure have. So I hope at least some of you find this just as empowering to read. This fic is for all of us. (Just maybe don't try to emulate her. She super does need therapy, like, for real.)

[tiniemilkie]

pairing: !fuckboy Jungkook x reader

genre: angst, slight smut, f*ngering

word count: 2.3k

warning: this story contains sexual content, and lewd language 🔞

summary: it’s your boyfriend Taehyungs birthday and although you should be at home celebrating with him, you find it hard to escape the pleasure his best friend Jungkook provides you and in turn, you face the karma you had so desperately hoped to avoid.

side note: Jungkook is a MAJOR fuckboy in this, he’s manipulative, selfish and insulting. The character (Y/N) is also imperfect in her own ways as you will see as you read on. Be fully aware that this is not how I see our sweet boy Jungkook, this is purely fiction❤️

Stories are to be written with faulty characters, characters who are imperfect and make mistakes that they will regret. It’s a realistic portrayal of a woman who cheats on her lover.

Enjoy the read ~

. . .

The date was December 30th, the day when your wonderful boyfriend, Taehyung was born, and graced the earth with his charming and promiscuous presence. Oh how great he is, he’s everything a girl could wish for in a partner; caring, funny, sexy, an amazing listener and not only a lover but a best friend. The kind of guy you see in those cringe worthy romance movies and the kind you read about late at night through the fanfiction genres. He was everything and more… So at 12:00AM why were you sprawled out in his best friend’s sheets?

You look at your phone, the bright light casting on your face as you stare at it, the contrition of your actions hitting you deeply as Jungkooks legs lay on top of yours. It was revolting, and what was more revolting was the fact that this wasn’t the first time you had ended up here in his bed, in his house. Every night for the past two months you’d find yourself texting him that you would be over, and not once did he oblige to your visitation. Jungkook welcomed it.

The next question that presents itself is how could he do that to his own best friend? To sleep with his best friend's girlfriend has to be some kind of sin right? Well he was a sinner, a goddamn shameless one at that. Jungkook always had eyes for you, yet he would never let it be known. No, he wouldn’t say a word, not even when he had the chance to whisk you away before you got closer to Taehyung. You were all so young then, your adolescence was far too pure for that and so he waited. He waited until you all got older and out of high school, he waited until you realized that your sweet boyfriend could not please you fully the way your heart desires.

You wanted to be worshiped and praised, you wanted to feel like your body was levitating as his tongue worked wonders on every inch of you. You wanted your face to be shoved in plush pillows that smelled of his cologne, as he fucked you like the good little slut you were deep down inside. Jungkook knew exactly what your body wanted and needed, he gave you just that and furthermore. He was bounteous with the ways he satisfied your body and you were tired of the same old missionary bullshit and craved a more thrilling sexual experience.

A groan from said man snaps you out of your thoughts, turning your phone off and placing it quietly on the nightstand, ignoring the text from your boyfriend as you lay your head back against the bed frame. You could still hear the sounds of it smacking against the wall rhythmically as Jungkook thrusted into you from behind. Who the fuck were you anymore?

“You’re awake, I thought you’d still be tired after all of that,” Jungkook says, you could tell there was a smirk on his audacious face. “You’re such a slut.” He chuckles to himself.

This pisses you off and you scowl down at him, he’s looking up at you now, waiting for you to respond and you see the smirk on his face clear as day. He thought that this was funny? Sure you didn’t mind him degrading you while he was fucking you senseless but he had never called you out of your name outside of your sexual endeavors.

“I am not a slut and I don’t appreciate you calling me that.” You say sternly, your hands pulling up the blanket to cover your breasts.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, you knew he was going to say something by the quizzical look on his face and you rolled your eyes at that. You really weren’t in the mood for whatever he was going to throw at you this time as you’ve had many conversations about your current fuckbuddy situation.

“Then what are you, hmm?” His eyes look straight into yours. “After all, you’re sleeping with your boyfriend's best friend. Every night you come here practically begging me to rip your clothes off. So tell me, what does that make you?” His face is daringly close to yours and it takes everything in you not to slap him across his smug face as you fight back tears.

He just stares at you, he knows that his words cut deep but you couldn’t find it in you to disagree. Perhaps you were but you wouldn’t admit it. You love Taehyung, you love the way he makes you feel but he couldn’t do the things Jungkook could and you hated the power he had over your body. A tear slides down your cheek, his hands come up to your face, your eyes avoiding him and your lips begin to tremble as you feel your body ready to break down as his words repeat themselves over and over again inside your head.

“You can’t convince yourself otherwise, I know you (Y/N).” You don’t know a damn thing, is what you want to say.

You want to scream at him, you want to snatch this painfully comfortable blanket off of your body, get dressed and march right out of his house, nevermore would you speak to him or let him toy with your body… but you couldn’t do that, he had you wrapped around his finger as he manipulated you with his kisses that felt so sweet and so genuine as if he could one day be yours and you’d be his.

There’s no getting out of this now as his warm, wide hands grasp your thighs pulling them apart. Fuck you, you say inwardly, your body fully submitting to him as he laps at your neck, lips smacking against your skin and his tongue darting out to taste your flesh. He loved every second of it, your body belonging to only him at this moment. The blanket that covered you is now in your lap, his fingers trailing up towards where his cock had been not too long ago. You grow excited, your legs opening on their own, needy to feel his fingers deep inside of you.

“I hate you,” you rasp. “I really fucking hate you.” You’re a mess, your breath caught in your lungs as he dives his fingers into your soaking core earning a loud moan from you.

For some reason he rather enjoyed hearing you say you hated him, most likely because he knew it wasn’t true at all. You didn’t hate Jungkook but he knew that over time your feelings for him were compunctious, how you wished you had never slept with him although you continue to do so. He didn’t care to ponder on the thought, his only mission at this point was to please you and that’s what he would do.

“Say it again.” His voice is muffled as he carries on leaving his mark on your neck, making it hard for you to stifle your moans in hopes that he would just let up with his games. That didn’t work on him, if anything it just made him pick up his pace as he drove his fingers in and out of you.

The sheets began to soak beneath you, your legs wide and your head thrown back, the sound of your wet cunt reverberating the dimly lit room. The words leave your lips, your chest panting as you release over his lengthy digits. When you open your eyes he pulls them out of you, admiring the rather large wet patch between your legs and sliding his fingers into his mouth to get a taste.

“I hate you.” The male hums in satisfaction as your cum lingers on his taste buds, he was damn near addicted to the way you tasted.

“You can say that all you want darling,” he grins as he wraps his hand gently around your neck, his thumb stroking over the now redish mark he had left. “We both know you’ll be back again tomorrow night.” Jungkook presses his lips firmly against yours.

The kiss was hard, his head pressed against yours as he feverishly devoured you. He was right and that made this situation all the more painful, not as painful for you but for your boyfriend who was most likely worried sick about your whereabouts. As if on queue, your phone rings and you jump at the sound, Jungkook breaking away from your lips. He watches as you reach over and answer it, already knowing exactly who was on the other end.

“Babe, where are you? You said you’d be home before midnight.” He watches as your body shakes in panic and you stand to gather your belongings, nearly tripping over your own feet in search of your undergarments.

“I’ll be home soon love, the girls and I just had a little too much fun.” Jungkook scoffs and you look back with a glare.

It always amazes him how easy it is for you to lie to him and how he believes you each time. Of course he wouldn’t say anything to Taehyung, although he didn’t care that he was sleeping with his best friend's girlfriend, he’d much rather spare him the heartache of hearing so.

“I love you too, bye.” The line ends and you hurriedly slip on your clothes, not even giving Jungkook a glance as he continues to examine you.

You can feel his eyes on you and you face him, ignoring the tent that had formed underneath the blanket as he lays there looking amused. Your eyes scan over his tatted arms, his strong chest, the silver hoop on his lip and his messy hair that your hands had pulled on countless times. There was no denying the attraction you had for his body but the guilt you felt was beginning to be too much to bare, yet it didn’t seem to phase him one bit.

“If you don’t think I care, you’re right (Y/N).” The blanket falls from his body as he stands, his length on full display as he stalks devilishly towards you.

How could a person be so intoxicating? You wondered as he stands before you, he grasps your hips in his hands and pulls you towards him. His fingers force your chin to look up at him, your eyes are anxious as they flicker between his and his lips, that mischievous smirk returns. Why do you do this to me?

“Why are we doing this Jungkook? I can’t keep cheating on Taehyung with you.” His smirk drops and his hand falls to his side. He didn’t want to hear that.

You were nothing but sorry. You’d say the same shit over again; I’m done, I can’t do this anymore, I love my boyfriend. He was sick of hearing your sappy excuses as well, how you’d say you didn’t know how to tell him what you wanted, how you don’t know why you slept with him in the first place. He couldn’t keep going through the same loophole with you. You made your choices, he gave you what you wanted and that was that, but to act as though you're so helpless in your actions is pitiful.

“Take some goddamn accountability, if you were sorry about cheating on Taehyung you wouldn’t be here right now,” he spat, frustratingly slipping into his white robe.

“What do you want me to say? That I regret it, that I’m sorry for giving you exactly what you asked for? Taehyung will never be what you want him to be and if you can’t talk to him about what you desire you will never be happy.” How could he judge you?

Fuck this, he acted as though he didn’t have a part in this twisted game as well. He’s Taehyungs best friend and it means nothing to him as long as he can fuck you and treat you like the dirt he walks on. You weren’t going to take it anymore.

“We’re done Jungkook, I’m sick of you acting like this is all my fault. This was something we both took part in whether you care or not. No matter how good you are at fucking me you’re not even close to the kind of man Taehyung is.” You make your way towards the door and out of his room.

As you walk through his house, the memories of all of your sins within the place etch into your mind and tear at your heart. You were going to tell him the truth and somehow, you hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t leave you, as selfish as it sounds. Reaching the front door, twisting the lock and pulling it open, Jungkooks footsteps follow suit, meeting you at the door. You glance at him before reaching to close the door, his hand stops you.

He leans down towards you, the hairs on your neck raising and your heart pounding in your ears awaiting his gut wrenching words.

“Tell him I said happy birthday.” And with those final words, he slams the door in your face.

You stand in silence, rain pelting down on your frame, you could do nothing but stare at the tall black door before you. Guilt, disgust, rage, hurt — those were the feelings you felt all at once. The one person who had loved you since the moment they met you was awaiting your presence and you had betrayed them in the most vile way. How were you going to face him? How would you tell him that you had been sleeping with his best friend behind his back?

Your phone rings, you slide the green button with your wet finger and answer. Taehyung's voice is prominent with concern and you smile sadly as your tears fall down your cheeks and on your phone screen, now realizing that this is in fact the end.

“Happy birthday. There’s something I need to tell you.”

. . .

Authors note:

Hellooo, I am back with another update. I am so glad you all are enjoying reading Stealth King! Currently I am working on creating an update schedule. Until then, I’ll be updating as consistently as I can :)

[autumnslance]

☼♡☠ - the Avengret story!

☼: how i came up with the idea - I'd love to know the answer to that one too. It's one of those random flashes from out of left field, from a myriad of factors lining up and going "Uh, I need a prompt answer sooooo”...and just throwing something on a page and it kept going. It started with the "Paternal" prompt in 2020's FFXIV Write, taking 2 job trainers Aeryn and I are both fond of, and spitting out a reason for them to interact that somehow led to a story of her birth father. A year later, the thread picked up suddenly and spun out across multiple prompts and free writes. Avengret was a spur of the moment creation who sort of shoved her way into my WoL's canon.

♡: my favorite part - This is hard, favorites are hard!! Maybe writing Estinien; I started this game as a DRG main back in 2015 up until 4.1's release, so the DRG chars are special to me, and writing Grumpy Dragoon Bro's POV was fun, how he saw folks in Revenant's Toll, Tailfeather, and his interactions with Aeryn, Thancred, and of course Alberic which is the one thing Endwalker didn't give us in detail (silently to the side, maybe) but also didn't kill my little headcanon so hey.

Also deciding to use the Azem crystal as a call for help, thinking it was a one-time-thing in the MSQ and a MacGuffin that'd be forgotten, and then Endwalker happened and showed it as a continuing in-lore method for the WoL to summon allies to a fight after all, and I was gleeful as I had done it a few months before the expac even dropped.

☠: something i found challenging - The revision is killing me. There's a scene I want to add (Aeryn & Heustienne focused) that isn't working, and part of it is 1) combat and 2) I think I'm just wanting it to balance present versus past scenes, especially early on.

Figuring out how and why this story even worked; Alberic was easy enough to sort out the secret-keeping; he's done it before, and since he hadn't seen Aeryn since she was a little girl over 20 years before, it did work initially that he didn't immediately remember. When he did, everything with Estinien, and then the political ramifications for her and the Scions in Ishgard, made that dangerous to bring up. But the dragons? Well, for the sake of plot beats, the dragons' lore, both the overall meta as well as the situation with mortals in Coerthas and Dravania, made it a thing they'd also keep pretty quiet about until asked. They may have not realized Aeryn wasn't aware of her bloodline's more recent sins during the initial roadtrip, and their reluctance and hostility was already baked into the story. As they realized she didn't know over time, they still wouldn't likely volunteer that information--especially the ones familiar with Avengret herself.

Combat's always rough, of course. So are smutty scenes.

Big thing is voice; there's a few different POVs at play; Corran, Aeryn, Alberic, Estinien, X'rhun, Emelia. Making them sound and feel different, see things differently--especially given the 20 year timeline involved--is always a trick I worry about.

Otherwise just finding time to do the clean up and shuffling around (chronological, merging or splitting some scenes, do I include the smut as a chapter? so on). Doesn't help I've got other writing projects going on eating up said time, as well as just wanting to play the game and do other things! I need more hours in a day...

Anyway. Plan is to get this sucker on Ao3 sooner or later. Until then, it's still in the FFXIV Write 2021 posts, and the breakdown on the master list shows which ones are related to that storyline.

[springalwayscomes]

Not even a gift

Plot: Since the moment Jungkook saw your ass he swore he never saw something that beautiful. But then you turned around, and well, that was a total different thing. The poor man couldn’t even stand beside you without embarassing himself or embarassing you, and evey time seems to get worse and worse and...worse. 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Dancer AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut, One Shot

Wordcount: 30k

Content Warning: Jungkook can’t stop embarassing himself, swearing, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, awkard situations, masturbation, sexual fantasies, a lot - a lot - of fluff, Reader with stress issues, overwhelming parents, trust issues

A/N: I wrote this when I was just joining the fandom, last year for Kookie’s birthday. I remember wanting to pst this so badly but it stayed in my drafts because I wasn’t sure it was good enough and I was a little insecure about the ending. I told to myself that someday I’d rewrite a new ending and post this, but knowing myself and how I work with my writing, I know that that day will never come because even if did so, I’ll probably end up with not liking my style of writing anymore and editit all out, leave it like this or delate it. So I told myself that I’d rather prefer to publish it. cause at the end this story was incredibly funny to write - sometimes I would laugh all alone like an idiot while writing it - and to be honest I think it’s pretty good. It’s the very first fanfiction I wrote about BTS so it’s also very meaningful for me. For reasons as the ones I already mentioned I decided to not edit this, so you might find some grammatical errors, please understand that this was the first time I wrote something from scratch in english. If you’d like to read it in episodes I’m going to publish it on youtube as a series too, where you’ll be able to live the full experience of the story since there you can visualize it too, as for the story it’s exactly the same as here. Enjoy reading this one, I know you’ll have fun!

Watch the first episode on Youtube

Since the moment Jungkook saw your ass he swore he never saw something that beautiful. It wasn’t just fit and solid, it was the way you were moving it on the beat, making it look like something he’d die to touch, squeeze, hold.

That was the very first thing he noticed about you.

He couldn’t help but fantasize how you’re face would look, watching your back from the doorframe of the ballroom. He imagined you sweat, little drops forming on your forehead caused by the the movements. He tried to focus his attention on the other dancers, fixating his gaze on the girl beside you making the exact same moves as you, but something about your presence kept on calling him like you were a mermaid and he was a poor sailor.

His dark doe-eyes ended again on your body, being in the last row it was hard for him to find your reflection in the mirror, other bodies moving endlessly making him grimace. He was running out of time, the poor man got stuck in traffic on his way here, already twenty minutes late, and god knows why he stopped looking at you dancing.

He shook his head when even after the music stopped your back was still facing him, not that he minded, but he was really dying to know how your face would look like.

Someone must have been both incredibly hungry and in love with him, cause a second later, you were bending over, resting your elbows on your thighs and giving him an even more beautiful view of your ass while trying to catch your breath. 

Breath stuck in his lungs, Jungkook gulped hard, making his adam’s apple jump up and down.

The girl next to you said something that made you laugh, back invaded by the spasms of your laughter, something he couldn’t hear because of all the talking that was going on in the room. He wished he could. He imagined your voice, soft and sweet, and soon enough is mind was already wondering about your features.

Snorting and getting out of his trance, he remembered himself he had to practice. Ready to take the first step away from the ballroom which he didn’t belong to, he shook his head a second time and turned, ready to leave his thoughts about you in that room and never meet them again.

But a second song started. And this time, he recognized the beat. Holding his breath again, he faced the entrance with a speed that got him shocked by himself.

Your hips were moving again, slowly and sensually, hands drawing abstract shapes in the air, hair attached to your skin. Your sweat shorts were doing nothing to hide your skin from his dark eyes, all he could think about was the way it seemed to shine under the lights of the room and the way your sweat would make it look even more glowing.

He hissed through his teeth, trying to push away the though of his hands against your skin, the way he’d like to trace your thighs with his fingers, leave pecks against your body and mark your hips with his lips. He brought his gaze back on your ass, sinful eyes burning against your skin and jaw clenching, Jungkook licked his lips and watched you arch your back before bringing your left leg to your head, holding it with your hands as you tiptoed your right foot.

«How long have you been here?»

He literally jumped, locking his gaze with whoever gave him a heart attack. Standing beside him, looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes wide were Yoongi.

«I-»

«You know this is the wrong room, right?» he looked at him with a blank expression, trying to understand what Jungkook was actually doing standing at the doorframe of a different studio, without even caring about the fact he should be practicing with him and the others.

«I know, I was just... looking around.» he managed to let out, before taking a deep breath and stepping towards Yoongi.

The moment he realized he was rocking a half-hard just by his previous sight, he clenched his jaw and gulped again. If Yoongi had already noticed his situation then he wouldn’t know cause his face was no longer on him, neck turned to peek into the room that stole the maknae’s attention before. The youngest one used that moment to bring his bag in front of him, and then headed to their dance class trying not to draw too much attention.

That was the first time he saw you.

Jungkook dropped his bag to the ground as soon as he entered his bedroom, removing his sneakers and his socks he headed to his bathroom in a matter of seconds, begging to feel the cold drops of water wash away all the sweat on his skin and the heat of his body, even though the last one wasn’t because of the workout.

His cock was aching, so damn hard and throbbing against his sweat pants.

He wished they finished their practice just a few seconds sooner. Dancing was a pain in the ass today, all he wanted to do was head back to your doorframe and peek at you, loose his gaze on your body, trying to steal a glance of your face.

But still, it didn’t happen. He couldn’t help but think about how’d you look during the three hours of rehearsals, he thought about it so much that now he had a clear image of you in his mind. And it was pretty platonic, almost inaccessible.

He removed his shirt and his pants, letting them fall on the ground, and then turned on the water, already hooking his fingers under the elastic band of his boxers. He was so hard that it ached.

Jungkook took a deep breath and palmed himself through the material, immediately hissing at the touch. Deciding it was not enough he let the cloth slowly fall to the ground, creating a wall around his ankles that he surpassed in a second getting in the shower.

He didn’t waste time on lathering, he just shut the glass door and closed his eyes while bringing his hand to his shaft. The fingertip of his thumb collected the precum leaking out of his slit, moving over his head and making him clench his jaw shut, breath already uneven.

He though about the way you moved your hips, he’d like to hold them tight and down on the bed while fucking into you. He’d take such a good care of you. He’d fuck you so good, making you whimper and moan every time he’d hit your g-spot, he’d squeeze your ass in his big hands, leaving marks as a reminder of his touch. He’d kiss your skin, he’d kiss your neck and he wouldn’t even mind tasting the sweat caused by your rehearsals today, but in his mind, that’d be caused by what you two are doing.

Jungkook groaned and stroked himself, bringing his hand now to his base and tightening his grip around his girth. Throbbing, pulsating cock begging to release all his seed.

His movements were firm and clear, his fist moving so fast that his wrist was hurting, head falling back, mouth agape and eyebrows knitted together. The sound of his movements blended with the clatter of the water, his shoulders raising from time to time because of the heavy breathing, hips bucking against his hand. He wished it was you, the only part he’d seen of you, he desperately wished he was fucking your ass, so, so hard he’d make you whine and cry in pleasure. He imagined the sounds you’d made, and even though he didn’t even know how your voice sounded or how you looked, he already knew that it’d be his new favorite sound.

«Fuck» he groaned, fucking his cock in his hand even harder, moving his hips and meeting his hand halfway. He bit his lower lip, flesh aching and almost bleeding under his teeth, bringing his free hand to his heavy balls and massaging them. His pace fastened even more if it’s possible, his hips were snapping so hard into his hand picturing your ass in its place, he was so close he could taste it. He pictured your body bent over his bed, taking him so nicely, moaning out loud and clenching around his greedy cock, so needy and so damn wet for him.

«God, fuck» he growled, shoving fast into his hand. He wished he knew your face, he’d like to picture you taking his big cock in your lips. He already know they’d look so damn beautiful around his girth, gagging and drooling for him, he’d hold your head still and fuck himself into your pretty lips so good, letting you eat all of his seed.

That, that was what brung him to his apex. Abs contracting and rough breath, muscles tightening and eyes squinting, lips open letting out low groans.

«Fucking hell»

Hot white spatters stained his hand and chest as he rode his orgasm, keep shoving himself into his hand. The water washed away his seed, it disappeared so fast he didn’t even see it, and when he opened his eyes he took some time to catch his breath leaning against the wall behind him.

His mind went blank, for just a little. He couldn’t think of anything else than the idyllic orgasm he just had, just the thought of it made his cheeks flash red.

Then, the thoughts hit him. He didn’t even know your name, and here he was, masturbating over you. He was going to change that.

The second time Jungkook saw you he did  not rush out of his house thirty minutes earlier than he was supposed to. He couldn’t help but ask to himself what was going on with him, he certainly knew he never felt the need to see someone he didn’t even know. God, you didn’t even noticed him. Standing at the doorframe of your rehearsals room, looking at you move your body in such a charming way he swore he never see someone dance like that. Why were you in the last row? You deserved to be in the first one, that wasn’t fair. But, in that way he couldn’t see you, so he stored the information at the back of his mind. When you stopped your movements and you suddenly disappeared into the crowd, he again remembered to himself that he didn’t even know what he was doing.

Come on, was he really going to stand there for about other ten minutes and watch  you dance without doing nothing? He desperately wanted to know how your face looked, by now he could say he had a perfect picture of you in his head. And if he was right, you were probably the best thing he ever seen. 

Just the thought made him lick his lips, taking a deep nervous breath. He needed to talk to you. But what would he say? “Hi, I’ve been watching you dance”? Ew, definitely no. He tried to come up with other possibilities but his mind was totally blank, panic making his way through his thoughts and taking every part of him, leaving him only with sweaty hands and an adam’s apple gulping in his throat.

«Jungkook»

A voice made him turn, his gaze suddenly traveled to his right side.

«Oh, hey» he blurted out, Taehyung was staring at him with an arched eyebrow and inquisitive eyes.

«What were you doing?» the oldest one got closer, his hands in his pockets and a slight smile forming on his lips. Jungkook shook his head.

«Mh- I- waiting» he stuttered. His friend knitted his eyebrows looking at him for just a few seconds, then his gaze met the ballroom in front of them, where Jungkook’s was again scanning bodies, trying to find yours.

«Are you looking for someone?» Teahyung asked, receiving just a shake with his head from the youngest. But he knew better than that, he knew Jungkook well, maybe too much, he couldn’t even try to hide something from him.

When his eyes finally found you again, Teahyung knew it was you, he could just tell by the way he opened his lips, forming a little “oh”, his eyes never leaving your body.

«So you were waiting, uh?» he scoffed.

«Yes?» the maknae wanted to punch himself in the face, that was not supposed to come out as a question.

«Do you know her name?» Taehyung asked. He turned away in the blink of an eye, staring at him with wide eyes. It took him a few seconds to understand he’s been caught, but eventually he decided to just sigh and shake his head again. «Well, I know it» he shrugged like he had just said nothing. Jungkook looked at him with an unreadable expression, trying to understand if what he just heard was real or if he just imagined it. He studied Taehyung’s face like he was some kind of poem, carefully and thoughtfully, wisely looking for a hint to tell him he was just playing with him, but he really seemed serious.

«I can introduce her to you?» he turned to look at him, the youngest was playing with his fingers, eyes staring at the floor, all of his confidence seemed to fade away.

«Why?» he asked.

«What do you mean why?» Taehyung almost laughed at the maknae’s words, and he almost felt guilty. Almost.

«I- I don’t know...» he sighed. Why was he even acting like this? He wanted to talk to you, desperately wanted to know how your face looked like, his imagination was sending him crazy. How did he even ended up like this? He just saw you dance and his mind wasn’t his anymore, constantly wondering about your face. There was just something about you that was making him insanely curious.

«Oh, come on!» unexpectedly, the hyung grabbed him by his arm, making him almost loose his balance while dragging him into the room, taking big steps towards you. No one seemed to notice what was happening externally or inside of Jungkook, heart beating a mad pace, slippy hands like he just dipped them in the water, mind shocked and freaking out attempting to find anything, literally anything that could’ve helped him. Anything would’ve been good, anything for saving him from who knows what his mind was thinking, neither he could understand himself. He never felt more afraid to speak to someone in his life, he swore. Why was he even freaking out? He couldn’t find an answer in those few seconds that divided you from him, and he ended up behind you sooner than he realized. His body instantly tensed.

Teahyung, like the amazing friend he was, tapped your right shoulder, making sure to keep his grip tight on Jungkook’s arm, afraid he would’ve run away at the first opportunity. And he would’ve.

«Yes?» turning, you met the hyung gaze, two deep dark eyes staring at you, breath held in his throat. Damn, you were beautiful.

Oh, God.

That was the first thought that passed Jungkook’s mind when he finally saw your face, all of his fantasies immediately falling to the ground, breaking into a million pieces. He didn’t even know someone that beautiful could exist. His eyes staring at your face like some kind of piece of art. He definitely did not expect you to look like this, he did not see it coming. He thought you were beautiful, but God, not like this.

«Bye» that was the first and last word Taehyung blurted out, finally releasing Jungkook’s arm. Then, he simply walked away, like he did not just leave you two alone, like nothing. You raised your eyebrows, stunned by what just happened looking at the man head to the door and then simply disappear in the hallway. When you realized you were left with someone you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, shifting your gaze from the corridor to the man in front of you.

In that moment, Jungkook’s heart started beating even faster, if that was possible. His dark doe-eyes stared into yours for a few moments, not even blinking, mouth agape and breath caught in his throat. He looked like he just saw something... something really-

«Am I that ugly?» you blurted out.

When he realized you were actually talking to him, he felt the need to hide, run away, he wanted the earth to open under his feet and engulf him in. His cheeks flashed red, eyes finally starting to blink.

«No I-» his throat was dry, so he swallowed hard and tried to get a little bit of his nerve back.

«I-I just didn’t expect you to be like t-this»

What? Now he really wanted to hide, what the hell was he thinking? Nothing, his mind was totally blank. He didn’t even remember how to create an actually real sentence.

«Sorry?» you asked. Only then, he realized how your voice sounded, definitely lower than he thought. And he loved it.

«Uh- Oh God. I’m sorry»

And that was it, the end of your first conversation. Jungkook looked at your face for just a second more, than his legs did the job for him, he wasn’t even thinking straight, mind totally blown away and panic invading every rational part of him. He simply turned and started running away, disappearing in the hallway just like his friend did a matter of seconds before.

You grimaced, left standing in the rehearsals room, eyes following his tall and muscled figure until you were left with nothing but confusion.

What had just happened?

That was the second time Jungkook saw you.

He was drawing again, eyes fixated on the sheet in front of him, colors over colors over colors, sketches and shapes that apparently didn’t have any meaning. It was just a mess, overlapped lines with circles and circles with blurred shapes that he didn’t even know could exist.

He was desperately trying to take his mind off of what he had done, but it didn’t seem to work.

Probably, he was just taking everything too much to heart, and he knew that. He knew he was making a big deal of something stupid but he couldn’t help the way he was feeling.

Why did he have to act like that? Why did he walk away in that way? You possibly thought he was just some jerk playing around, and only that thought made him clench his jaw. But that was his last problem. Not only he did made you think he was an idiot, but he made you feel uncomfortable without even trying. The words you said and the sound of your voice kept on echoing in his mind like one of those stupid songs you can’t seem to send away.

Were you joking? Probably? Did he really made you think he was looking at you in that way cause you were ugly? God, you were way too far from that for him.

And above all of that, why did he even say something like that?

“I didn’t expect you to be like this”, God, what was he thinking about? And what did you think of that stupid sentence? Jungkook let out a low groan, the thoughts invading his head were making it impossible to focus on the drawing.

What the hell did Taehyung do? He said he was going introduce you to him, why did he left like that?

When Jungkook entered their rehearsal room the hyung simply smiled at him and winked in his way, like he had just made some kind of magic happen between you too. Well, it didn’t happen. Everything was just a fucking mess, and the biggest thing heaving on Jungkook’s shoulders was that that was the first time you ever saw him, the first impression you had about him. Now it was gonna be three times harder for him to even talk to you, let alone make a move on you. Jungkook didn’t even answer Tae’s wink, only wanting to end the rehearsals already and go straight home to drown into sleep. But it was late, and he certainly wasn’t sleeping.

Jungkook huffed letting his pencil hit the wooden table.

Was he going to try to change what happened or was he going to leave everything like that? Sure as hell, he wanted to know you. But he just couldn’t help himself, he never felt more frightened in his life to talk to a girl as now, and that feeling made him feel helplessly under pressure. What was he even going to say if every time he opened his mouth, all that was coming out were awkward words? Your face added to the sound of your voice made him look like a poor moron, and he knew deep inside of him that that was your effect on him. It was going to happen again, he knew it. He needed to find a way to not ridicule himself and not make you uncomfortable every time he opened his mouth.

«What?» Yoongi’s eyes have never been wider than now looking at Jungkook. Now, the maknae was desperately looking for advices, and he knew that Jimin and Yoongi were the right persons for this kind of situation.

«You really did that?» Jimin let his mouth hang open, eyebrows raised.

«Yes» Jungkook sighed «I don’t know what’s wrong with me, God.» Yoongi and Jimin looked at each other, both of their expressions stuttered by what the youngest had just told them. «How can I fix this? I mean I-»

«First, stop dwelling.» Yoongi interrupted his endless rambling, firm tone and eyes pointing directly in his. Jimin nodded. «You’re thinking too much. I mean, do you even think she noticed all of this? Are there any chances she probably already forgot your face?» his words made the maknae feel better for just a bunch of seconds. Maybe you already forgot him. It was a good thing, right?

«You think so?» why did he sound disappointed? Yoongi raised his eyebrows and nodded.

«And if she remembers you, all you need to do is go and talk to her, you can fix this Kookie» Jimin smiled at his friend.

«And say what?» his voice came out louder than he thought, almost breaking in the middle. He was just not that positive. He messed up, and there was something inside him telling him that that was not goin to be the last time.

«Anything?» Jimin made it seem so simple «I mean, anything is better than what you said» he added. Jungkook shook his head. «Sitting here is not gonna fix this» he said again, then taking a sip from his hot coffee.

«I can’t-» his voice suddenly stopped working, his throat holding the words in. His eyes shifted from the wall he was staring to to you, walking into the cafe on your high heels, jeans sticking to your legs like they were handmade just for you, a little bit of messy hair because of the wind running through the streets of the city, hanging from your shoulders. Eyes moving into the cafe like you were desperately looking for something, maybe someone.

«What? It’s her?» Jimin whispered, slightly stretching on the table to get the maknae’s attention. Yoongi simply avoided asking, he knew he wasn’t going to get any answer. So he just turned around looking for your figure in the crowded little shop. When he finally found you, he knew it was you. He had already saw you the other day, and he saw Jungkook’s pants too, but he kept it to himself.

Smirking, he stood up, eventually bringing back Jungkook from his own world. He watched his friend take long steps and cross the room, and his hands started to sweat again, even more than the day before. Yoongi surpassed you just a step before you were in line for the bar, almost making you step on him.

Rude.

Jungkook could already feel himself going crazy, him and Jimin staring at the scene in silence dying to know what Yoongi had in mind. He saw you stretch over his shoulder trying to take a look at the pastry, in the meantime Yoongi stepped towards when another client left the line. Time seemed to slow down for how much it was taking for every single client to order, Jungkook’s agitation growing bigger every second.

When Yoongi’s turn arrived he still couldn’t understand what was going to happen, watching him through the crowd and shifting his gaze from him to you from time to time was definitely not working. He caught Yoongi talking to the employee and a second later he was paying and turning around with who the hell knows what in his big paper cup. Keeping his eyes on the floor and faking distraction, he stepped on your foot and when he raised his head all he did was giving you a shocked look.

Then he did it, making the maknae line wide their eyes like they were four lighthouses, Jungkook literally hold his breath for what it seemed to be like years. His drink was on your clothes, soaking you, your drenched black shirt dripping on the floor. Your face shattered when you realized you were actually soggy, Yoongi gave you an apologetic smile and then he walked out of the cafe as if nothing had just happened. He really hoped Jungkook would understand it was his turn. Well, again, he didn’t. He just stared at you, your face still in shock and your moth forming the shape of an “o”, people surpassing you on the line without even glancing at you. Jimin shook him awake from his trance making him grimace and pushing him from his chair.

«Go, go, go!» he silently screamed moving his hands in the air. “Oh, lord” was all he could think while looking at you standing still and a scared Jungkook walking uncertain.

You stepped to the side when you noticed people kept on surpassing you giving you upset looks since you wouldn’t move from the line, it only took you a few steps to the side to rush into someone. Your shoulder hit his chest and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. It was just not your day.

«I- I’m sorry?» the voice came from beside you, the man standing still against your right shoulder without even moving. What was supposed to be a statement came out as a question and Jungkook wanted to punch himself again. You had to back away to create a little bit of distance before lifting your gaze to him.

When you saw him, it took you nothing to remember him.

«You? Again?» you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You were not this rude usually, you just weren’t that type. But today definitely wasn’t your day. First, someone surpassed you, you just said nothing because you weren’t the type to argue for something so stupid, you even justified him thinking maybe he didn’t notice you. Then he spilled his tea on you, and without even helping you he just ran off as if nothing had happened. Now, him. Was this some kind of joke?

Jungkook couldn’t help but frown at your words, silently and slowly making their way through his body until they reached his intestine and tangled every part of his guts together.

«I- I’m sorry?» he said again. What? You locked eyes with him, cocking a brow at him.

«What are you even sorry for?» you sighed, bending over the table in front of you and grabbing a tissue from the plastic container. He brought his gaze to his friend, eyes still wide and throat completely dried. Jimin showed him a thumb up and suddenly shifted his gaze, in a second he turned around with his cheeks now red. When Jungkook turned again he hissed through his teeth, you did not just caught them and you weren’t staring at him with an even more confused look.

«I- I can buy you some coffee?» he blurted out, his voice cracking in the middle of the question making it almost seem like a prayer. Your lips formed an “o” again, suddenly looking down at your clothes and rushing to clean them with that little tissue. You were just thankful it wasn’t hot, whatever thing it was. Jungkook stood there still like a rock, scared of moving and making everything even worse.

«No, but thank you.» you sighed at the sight of your drenched black shirt, drops on your jeans. What were you going to do now? You had to go to work in thirty minutes, you didn’t have time to go back home and change into something else, your boss was already going crazy with all the work he had to, his reaction at your delay wasn’t something you wanted to experience.

«Please?» Jungkook’s voice seemed to light something in you, lifting your eyes and locking them again with his. That was the moment you really noticed his beauty. And he was just that beautiful. In the meantime, he was really trying not to break out and scream, his tongue was just moving by itself. His mind was totally blank and his hands were so sweaty that they would probably as wet as the shirt you were wearing.

«I don’t have time for coffee now, but thank you.» you declined again, trying to bring a smile on your lips but failing. You sighed and turned, making your way out of the cafe in a matter of seconds. Jungkook stood there with his eyes still wide, watching you walk away and trying to catch just that little bit of air enough to make him survive. It was only when Jimin’s face appeared in front of him that he seemed to realize you weren’t there anymore, and in a second his legs made the work for him again, running out of the cafe like a mad man. What was he even doing? What the hell?

Jimin followed him rolling his eyes, all his hopes that his friend had made it hitting the ground. He had never seen Jungkook like that, not even when he dated that girl he had a crush on for a year. Jungkook had always been charming, he never had that much problems with a girl, there had been times he was more shy, but he had always found a way of breaking his barriers.

This time there was just something different.

When he saw you on the sidewalk his legs fastened even more and he only stopped when he was behind you, quickly grabbing at your wrist and turning you around in an abrupt yank that got Jimin to stuck on place and grimace. He even heard you squint from where he was, and he certainly didn’t miss the smack of your hand on his face once you turned and faced him.

Jungkook’s face heated up, suddenly loosening his grip on your skin and blinking a few times, staring into your eyes, his features unreadable. Silence suddenly seemed to fill the crowded street while you two looked at each other, your face looking regretful the second you realized it was him and not someone who was trying to steal your purse or rape you during full day.

Jungkook was at a loss of words, and when he realized now he had to say something, he panicked again.

«I’m sorry?» that was not happening again, he wanted to scream.

«You’re sorry?» you erupted like a volcano, your arm still in the air even thought his grip was no longer on it. Jungkook’s head slowly shook up and down, gulping harshly.

«What are you sorry for?» your question made him knit his eyebrows. Was it really so hard for him to form a real sentence? The answer was yes. His brain just didn’t seem to work.

«About the coffe?» now, he really wanted to scream and tear his hair out.

He had just scared you and hurt you and all he managed to say was “about the coffee”? What was that even supposed to mean?

«The coffee?» you narrowed your eyes at him, he brung his hand to the back of his neck scratching it.

«The drink?» he said again. For god sake.

«Uh?» you just couldn’t understand. What was he even trying to do? He was sorry? Everything was just so confusing, and if last night you thought just a little bit about what happened yesterday with him, you were sure this was going to be in your head for the rest of the day.

«The drink Yoongi spilled on you?» why was every single one of his sentences a question?

«Who is Yoongi?» you whined without even thinking, but then you grasped it. The rude man was someone he knew. Was something wrong with his friends? First that one yesterday, now this Yoongi.

«Yoongi is-» Jungkook seemed to realize what he had just done and he stopped talking, letting out a tremulous breath. He just told you he knew the man who basically ruined your day. Great job.

«So, are your friends all like this?» you didn’t even know what you were doing, but the stress was just too much to handle at that moment. The man stared at you again, eyes shifting to every feature of your face.

«Uh? Wha- what?» he babbled. Jungkook was loosing it. And Jimin could see it from a block away. He wished he could do something to help him, anything to save the situation, but he just couldn’t. What would he even say, anyway? “Sorry, he just likes you so much that he doesn’t even remember how a normal human acts”? That wasn’t going to work.

«Are you friend with this Yoongi?» you asked. Jungkook nodded slowly, almost uncertain of what he was doing.

«And the one from yesterday was also your friend?» you asked again. This time he frowned, making you narrow your eyes.

«Taehyung?» he wondered, confusion blinking in his eyes.

«I don’t know, maybe? Was it his name? The one that poked me and ran away?» you sighed.

«But he- Oh. I can’t-» Reality hit him, and he had to take a deep breath to stop his dwelling.

«What?»

«I’m- I’m sorry?» there he was again. Was he kidding you? Just when he seemed to know other words, they were there again.

«You already said it, even though it doesn’t seem like you are.» you were really going crazy. Late for work, drenched, without your breakfast and with a charming guy talking nonsense in front of you.

«I am» his voice came out louder than expected, making you unconsciously squint and ward off a little bit.

«Well, thank you, I guess?» you glanced at the sidewalk, then again bringing your gaze to his face. The way the light of the sun hit his eyes made yours stare deep into them, the black pupils and irises almost fading with each other, the little sparkles of the light reflecting in them made them seem like one of the darkest nights, but with the brightest stars you’ve ever seen.

Your mouth ran dry when your gaze met his lips, a soft glow making them look even more captivating, you wondered if he was wearing a lip balm, a part of your mind wondering how it’d taste.

«I’m gonna be late for work» you mumbled. Jungkook shook his head.

«Okay» What? Are you serious, Jungkook? Okay? He visually grimaced at his own words, and for god knows why the corners of your lips raised up just the slightest at his awkwardness.

«I should go now» you gave him a little gentle smile and then turned, finally heading to your car. You had just taken a few steps on the sidewalk across the street when you turned away and realized he was standing still, eyes still fixated on you, but he wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe a friend of his? You hoped he wouldn’t hit you in the head, given the others. You crossed the street again, walking back towards the man and glancing at the ground feeling your cheeks reddening under his sight. 

You stopped a few steps away from him, raising your head and finally facing him. «I’m sorry too» you said, slightly smiling. «You know, for the slap» his lips formed an “o” but he quickly managed to smile, for the first time. And lord, what a smile he had. You swore you never saw something that beautiful. Your breath got stuck in your throat, heart madly beating in your chest, threatening to come out. And you didn’t even noticed, but your smile became a real one, wide and shining with its own light and reaching your eyes. Jungkook’s heart skipped a few beats just at the sight, his legs shaking under his body and a sudden feeling of warmth invading his chest, it was like his guts were back in place.

A drop of rain hit your forehead and in that moment you realized you really had to go, rain wasn’t something you could deal with now, not with your already soaked shirt and your delay. So you just turned again and walked away.

That was the first time you and Jungkook actually spoke to each other, kind of, I guess you could say.

«Didn’t you two talk?» Yoongi asked running a hand in his blonde locks. There they were again, but this time, thankfully Jungkook would say, they were in his house. He really didn’t know how to handle another one of his friends’ mishaps in your presence, not that he would’ve met you anyway, but here he felt more comfortable. It was normal for them to meet at someone’s place on a Friday night, it’s something they’ve always been doing for a long time that now it was like a tradition. Every Friday they would met and talk, even though they’ve been seeing each other almost every day. And now, it was no difference. Or maybe just one. You. Jungkook wasn’t talking about how much he was excited to perform or how much he loved the new choreography, he was talking about how embarrassing that moment was. Wait, those moments. Thanks to Taehyung, Yoongi and himself, now he had collected a few moments that really made everything seem awkward.

«We did but...» he groaned «Why did you have to spill your drink on her?»

«For you to go help her?» Yoongi made it seem so simple.

«How could I have helped her with her soaked shirt? She had to go to work and you ruined her morning. And if it wasn’t enough now she knows I know you! And you!» Jungkook’s voice cracked in the middle while pointing his accusing index finger towards Yoongi and Taehyung.

«What? How?» Yoongi couldn’t believe his ears. He gave him a chance and he let it slip through his hands like it was a cool chunk of ice.

«He told her» Jimin got in the conversation briefly glancing at his youngest friend. Jungkook was really going crazy.

«And? What’s the end? Tell me you got her number?» Jin rested his forearms on his knees, waiting for an answer that just wasn’t meant to come out.

«You don’t even know her name, do you?» the maknae brung is gaze to Taehyung, his dark eyes almost seemed to surrender in front of all the mess of the situation. The friend sighed, guilt already invading his throat. When he pushed Jungkook in that situation, he thought he was gonna handle it, to him he just needed a little bit of motivation. He didn’t think it would’ve ended like this. He shook his head.

«Great.» Jungkook stood up, unreadable features and body tense.

«But at the end it was good, she smiled at you» Jimin helplessly tried to bring back a little bit of positivity.

«Yes, after I made everything uncomfortable and awkward. How am I even supposed to make a move after what happened? First Teahyung, then Yoongi. Then me!» he bursted out. «The first time was already hideous, but this? I hurt her, let her know that basically all my friends are weird and when she said “I’m gonna be late for work” my answer was “okay”. Who am I even kidding? I-»

«Oh, come on!» Joonie decided to open his mouth, his loud tone made Jungkook shut up, everyone now looking at him. «This is all in your head, Kookie. Stop it. You need to take a deep breath and face this in a different way. Clearly, shutting your mind off and letting your body do the work it’s not what you need.» he raised his eyebrows at him. Jungkook had started pacing, he really wanted to fix things, but every time it seemed to get worse and worse and worse and... worse.

«It’s so frustrating, I swear! It never happened to me, never. I can’t control it, my brain just doesn’t work when I’m with her» he groaned locking his dark locks in his fist and pulling a little.

«Oh, cheesy» Hobi wrinkled his nose receiving in exchange a death stare from Jungkook.

«So you don’t even know her name?» Jin seemed to realize his words only now, eyes wide and moth hanging open. Jungkook clenched his jaw before letting his body falling to the couch. Not even the soft material of the cushions seemed to make him feel better, not even the slightest.

«I don’t know her name» he answered, saying those words more to himself than to his hyung. All of this seemed so stupid.

«Then start from it. Give to this beautiful woman a beautiful name, you can’t keep rambling about someone for about an hour without even knowing their name.» Namjoon’s tone was firm, making its way through the maknae’s ears, his words seemed like playing with him. He was right, he didn’t even knew your name, how the hell was that possible? He had the biggest crush and didn’t know the basics.

What Jungkook didn’t know and never could imagine was that you were thinking about him in the same moment as he was talking about you to his friends. What happened that morning was still replaying in your mind like a short film, from the moment that Yoongi spilled what you figured out was tea on your clothes to the moment you headed to your car. There was something about that awkward meeting that you just couldn’t seem to shake off. That man was so awkward and charming at the same time that the match sounded both weird and interesting.

Still, you couldn’t hide your annoyance towards him that morning. You couldn’t quite discern if he was just playing with you or if there was a meaning behind his actions and words, I mean, he apologized for his friend so much but he didn’t really act different than him, he yanked you. And apparently without any meaning. He already apologized for Yoongi before, so why follow someone you don’t even know to do it again?

Remembering your slap against his cheek you unconsciously squint your eyes, drowning in the dark. You really wouldn’t have punched him if you knew it was him, but the moment you felt someone’s touch against your skin you panicked. Not that he didn’t deserve it, well, actually he didn’t, but you don’t usually punch people like that, you really thought someone wanted to steal your purse or rape you, You puffed.

You just wished to not bump into him or his friends again, or at least to not be the main character of their misfortunes again.

Summer was finally coming to an end, and with the end of a season comes the beginning of a new wardrobe, at least for you. You already had clothes for the imminent autumn but with all the money you had saved you could squander a little bit and reward yourself, you worked hard and didn’t even leave for the holidays this year, sad but true. So now you were lowly humming in the street without even realizing it, the music invading all of your senses, the melody taking control of your body like it was made of a thin sheet of glass that could be broken anytime with the slightest pressure.

You entered the shop and removed an earphone, slowly making your way through the crowd and getting ready to buy something as a reward for all of your sacrifices. The sight of the soft fabric of a white dress made your eyes sparkle and your feet started moving towards the mannequin like they were apart from your body, bringing your hand to the cloth you touched the smooth material.

There was no way you were not buying it.

The shape seemed perfect for your body, you could already see yourself wearing it so you were quick to cross the room, ready to grab your hanger. Apparently, not quick enough, but you didn’t notice right away.

Looking through the dresses for your size made you frown, everyone of them either too big or too small. You were almost giving up when your gaze met the tag you were looking for, eyes widening and happiness already creeping up in your body.

Then, a hand came in the way. You watched it grab the crutch, dark ink marking the light golden skin, long fingers closing around the hook. Your breath got stuck in your throat and you really felt all your hopes falling to the ground now. Sure you were not gonna argue with whoever just took away your dream dress, you didn’t even have the right to do it, you should have been quicker before rather than staring at it with dreamy eyes. You were already starting to turn and look for something else with a knot in your throat but you couldn’t help your eyes and followed the arm of the stranger, the skin almost glowing under the light of the shop. You met two broad shoulders, the cleavage of the light shirt he was wearing showing his collar bones and making your fingers tingle at the sight, but if you knew who was waiting for you at the end of that neck you would have already ran away.

The previous night after his friends left Jungkook had spent at least three hours trying to find a way to make a third impression on you, if that was possible, this time preferably good, and he figured out nothing. Eventually he felt asleep all tensed and annoyed, remembering the next morning he had to buy something for Namjoon’s birthday coming in exactly two weeks.

When he woke up today and headed to the shop three blocks away from his house he did not expect to find you there. From the moment he saw you at least a hundred of different emotions had run through his body, starting from worship and ending up with panic, but this time his mind didn’t switch off, or maybe not at all. Listlessly choosing something for Namjoon, Jungkook came up with a plan, and it was apparently clear: buy you a dress and give it to you as both a present and an apology for everything that happened the day before, from Yoongi’s drink on you to the way he kept on making things awkward, and maybe finally ask you out.

So when he saw you staring at that dress with dreamy eyes he instantly walked towards its reproductions, sure as hell that now he had something to work with in his hands. But it was only when you approached the same counter as him that he realized he didn’t have any clue about your clothing size. I mean, he could have guessed it, but it wouldn’t have been the same. He was supposed to ask you and tell you something like “let me offer this to you for making up for yesterday’s mess” and “would you like to hang out sometimes?” but when he tried to speak his voice got stuck in his throat, his hands badly sweating. So he tried to understand what you were looking for, careful not to get caught, and possibly keeping it in mind for buying you something else, and it all worked until he saw your eyes full of that joyful light again. In that moment, his heart skipped a beat as he understood you had found what you wanted.

As I said, this time his brain didn’t stop working, he knew he couldn’t grab the dress practically from your hands, that would’ve been the worst third impression of all times. He just needed to remember the measures printed on that little tag and look for something else. He knew but his hands moved by themselves and Jungkook felt himself stiffening again.

When you locked eyes with him you couldn’t help but snort. What was going on with the universe? You were sure you didn’t do anything that bad to deserve this. And why was he involved in all of your misadventures? Him, him, him, him and him again, couldn’t at least the gods send someone else once in a while to punish you? The fact that it was him made the knot in your throat grow even bigger and you instantly felt a flame of anger burning in your chest. If he was someone else you would’ve probably let go, but not with him and not when he was holding the dress you wanted to buy after long days and late nights of work, stress and a little bit of panic too.

So you did the first thing that came to your mind, you grabbed at the hanger he was holding in his other hand and immediately walked away leaving him with his mouth agape and his gaze digging holes in your body.

You turned the corner and went straight to the changing room, desperately trying to keep yourself from bursting out in the middle of the shop. You closed the curtain behind you and finally took a look at what you were holding. A men’s hoodie. You were going to buy it, wether you liked it or not. Not a big deal, you already had men’s clothes in your wardrobe, right?

Taking a deep breath you sat on the little couch in the fitting room, you were really starting to think he was playing with you. That had to be it. He was just enjoying himself, having fun with making you feel like an idiot. Unintentionally, some tears streamed down you cheeks, all the accumulated stress from work and from the rehearsals you were having almost every day, all the sleepless nights you had in the last three months trying to save money, some days even working your ass off until the first lights of the morning would appear, all the times you felt like you didn’t belong; everything was coming out in the shape of little drops. You hadn’t been crying for a long time and stopping now seemed like light years away, so you got up and went out of the dressing room heading to the checkout without even glancing around.

Jungkook was still in the same place you had left him, and when he saw your cheeks sparkling just in time before you could wipe the tears away he knew it wasn’t because of the sweat this time. His heart broke, features screaming nothing but regret. If only you had turned around you would have seen it even from there.

But instead, you paid your new hoodie and went out, ready to burst out once again you’d be surrounded by the safe walls of your apartment.

«God, I can’t believe it» Jungkook groaned again for about the tenth time since the beginning of the phone call.

Jimin and Namjoon had been meticulously chosen for today’s vent, and this time he was sure he had something real to ramble on about, it wasn’t all in his head anymore. He had made you cry.

«It was the worst third impression of all times! My plan was good, damn, why do I have to be like this around her? Every single time, it happens every damn time» he hissed through his teeth. On the other line, Jimin was staring at his white ceiling with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed, trying to help his friend as best as he could, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Jungkook had to fix this, again. And Namjoon felt the same way as he took a sip of his coffee, his hair still messy from the long sleep he had just awakened from.

«I know you don’t need to hear it, but you’re the worst suitor on earth» he blurted out rubbing his face with his hands. «How can you expect to be more to her than an awkward weirdo if you can’t even talk or act normally in her presence? At least did you get her name?» Namjoon knew his words were doing nothing but emphasizing the horrible situation but he just couldn’t contain himself anymore. Jungkook didn’t need to be pitied, it would have led him nowhere. The maknae grunted in frustration. That was the only answer Joonie needed.

«Stop everything you’re doing» his words made Jungkook frown.

«What?»

«I said stop everything you’re doing» he repeated again, then taking another sip from his coffee. The youngest stared at the screen in disbelief.

«I am doing nothing!» his high-pitched tone made Jimin squint his eyes.

«Okay, then come to my place for lunch and bring that freaking dress with you» he ordered, now getting up and putting his mug in the sink.

«Can I-»

«Yes, Jimin, no need to ask» the hyung interrupted his friend already expecting his question.

«I’m gonna shower, but please be careful with that dress Kook» Namjoon’s tone softened and his words almost sounded like a prayer, Jungkook couldn’t help but glance at the piece of cloth laying on his couch with a worried face. That was not the right place for it.

«Okay, I got it, I got it» he said more to himself than to his friend.

«See you later» Namjoon got off the phone in a second, already on his way to the bathroom.

«Kookie, I know you can do it, okay? We can’t do more than what we are already doing, we can’t fix this for you, you have to fix it. But we’re here to support you.» Jimin’s words gave birth to a bittersweet smile on Jungkook’s face and he internally thanked God for his friends.

«Thank you Chimin»

They talked for another ten minutes before finally getting off the phone, Kookie’s eyes shifting again to what was supposed to be your dress now and shutting down.

He needed to fix this, again.

«So?» Jimin patted his fingers on the wooden table moving his gaze between his three friends. Unexpectedly Taehyung had knocked on Namjoon’s door just before they were about to sit down and have lunch with an expression that promised nothing but bad news.

«I wanted to buy you something for making up for what happened yesterday and the day before, but apparently I screwed up again. This is for you.» Jungkook repeated for the fourth time, then reached his hand out on the table, his chopsticks holding an amount of chicken noodles not even possible to put in his mouth. Namjoon opened his all of a sudden and gobbled them in just one gulp, making Jungkook frown.

«You just ate her dress!» Jimin bursted out laughing at the scene in front of his eyes, the corners wrinkling, his melodious laugh even took over Taehyng’s brooding face, the hyung smiled like a baby.

«I’m hungry and it was the third time he was doing that! He practically saw it coming!» he claimed, already taking with his chopsticks another amount of inhumanly impossible food to eat.

«You have yours!» the maknae tried to sound as serious as he could but his smile fooled him.

«Don’t bother me, I’m feeding you and giving you advices, this is the least you could do in return.» he mocked him with a new beaming smile on his face, Kook shook his head and took a bite of his meal.

«I think it could work?» Jimin brung the conversation back to where it was supposed to be, glancing at Tae and Joonie.

«Just try to stick to that» Taehyung said nodding «and don’t forget to breathe. And please, don’t panic again.» he added. Kookie nodded, this time had to be good. «You think you can do that?»

«I have to» he sighed, already feeling under pressure. Jimin and Namjoon smiled at him, trying to reassure him.

«Alright, now Taehyung could you tell us what’s wrong?» the hyung suddenly shifted his gaze to the other maknae seated next to Kook, who raised his eyebrows and shook his head faking a smile. «Come on, we can see it. Tell your favorite therapists what’s wrong and let us help you.» Jimin nodded at his words.

«Alright, I...» Taehyung took a deep breath, his long slender fingers ran through his hair and fisted a dark strand, slightly tugging it.

«Oh my God, this is so hard to say out loud» he groaned. Now, if there was a tiny possibility that they’re friends weren’t worried about him, his words certainly did their job.

«TaeTae, come on» Jimin widened his eyes.

«Alright. Do you all remember Gillyflower?» his words only brung more confusion to their faces. «The girl with pink hair?» he tried again, and this time a bunch of “ooh” and “yes” made him nod. He took another deep breath. 

«Well, I asked her out and she was about to answer when Tannie suddenly started barking and puling at the leash. I tried to mke him stop but he kept getting worse to the point he yanked me. I- I stumbled and trying to grab onto something I...» he harshly gulped, silence invaded the room.

«What did you do? It can’t be worse than what I did, right?» Jungkook’s doe-eyes were staring at his friend’s face trying to catch a hint of his actions.

«I don’t know, it’s the first time something like this awkward happens between of us, but it’s just...» he puffed letting his shoulders fall and then again shaking his head.

«What?» Namjoon were desperate to know now.

«I groped her breasts. But I was just trying to hold onto something and- Oh my God this is the worst thing I could have ever done» he groaned and hid his face behind his hands trying to cover his cheeks flashing red. Jungkook’s eyes considerably widened, Jimin’s lips formed the perfect shape of an “o” and Joonie shut his eyes , almost forgetting how to swallow. Almost.

«What did you do after that? Tell me you apologized, tell me you did it?» Chimin’s gaze was basically begging him.

«Of course I did, but I was still shocked and... I may have left my hands on her for too much time» his voice was muffled by his hands, still covering his reddish face.

«Oh, God» Jimin let out, tilting his head back. «What the hell is happening to us?» he whined, earning a death stare from Namjoon.

«You mean what the hell is happening to you? This things don’t happen to me, luckily.» he stated.

«Oh, please Joon, your face is dirty for all the eggs you have on it. You know you have your bag stuffed with blunders» Jimin whined again and Namjoon pointed his index towards him.

«That wasn’t supposed to come out!» he argued.

«It didn’t! But I’ll blurt out all of your secrets if you don’t admit you can be a weirdo too!» the hyung puffed.

«Please, everyone knows I’m an oddball, there’s no need to argue on that. But my blunders are far beneath theirs!» he pointed at Jungkook and Teahyung the youngest was now trying not burst out laughing for his high-pitched tone. Jimin groaned.

«What was her answer?» Jungkook asked, carefully looking at TaeTae. He gulped.

«She started laughing and I apologized myself again before entering home. I thought she was making fun of me but I realized it was an uncomfortable laugh just after I shut the door. Now every time I see her in the hallway I hide behind the corners and avoid her. She must think I’m an idiot.» Teahyung’s words made Jungkook feel slightly better, maybe it was selfish but he felt less lonely.

«You need to talk to her» Namjoon mumbled with his mouth stuffed of noodles.

«We’ll make up a speech for you too after lunch, alright?» Tae shook his head.

«No need for it, I can handle it. I think» he sighed for the hundredth time.

The Sunday that followed got Jungkook incredibly frustrated. In two days it was gonna be his birthday and he and his friends had all agreed to take a day off from the devastating rehearsals to celebrate it together, so now there he was,  meticulously watching his figure dancing in the mirror. He hadn’t slept well and his eyes were praying for just a bunch of minutes of rest, body already tired only after an hour of movement. When the music stopped he thanked Jin with a grateful smile before approaching the bench on the side of the room to grab his towel and gather his sweat.

«I think this-»

«Kookie!» Jimin shouted with his eyes wide, his voice echoed in every single corner of the room and in a second Jungkook realized why. He didn’t really do it, please.He let his hand fall at his side, and yes, there it was. Your dress in his hand, now moist and clammy.

His voice burst in the loudest tone he’ve ever used: «Who the hell pulled it out of my bag?!»

The group immediately got closer to take a look at what he was talking about, Namjoon and Taehyung held their breath when the maknae opened the folded cloth revealing the white peace of dressing he had carefully putted in his bag just in case he’d met you here, even though it was quite impossible being Sunday.

«Oh my God, I thought it was a towel and-» Jin started explain himself but got interrupted again by Jungkook’s low groan.

«I am screwed, I give up.» his chest swelled like a balloon and his shoulder raised almost to his ears just to heavily fall a second later. «If this isn’t fate then I don’t know what it is» he complained letting his body go limp after he seated on the bench. And as if what had just happened wasn’t enough his eyes caught your figure in the hallway, your body managing to move graciously on your high heels even though at a speed that seemed almost impossible for you not to fall, your hair swinging with every step.

«Bad luck?» Hobi kneeled in front of him and Jungkook scoffed, shifting his gaze on his muscled legs once you disappeared behind the corner, his dark locks creating a curtain to hide him from the rest of the world while he rested his elbows on his knees.

«Bad luck? This is a tragedy. And not just because of the dress. Everything I did until now is a tragedy. This is just the cherry on top of it all. Maybe this is just not meant to happen and that’s why I keep messing things up.» he grumbled with raspy voice. And he really believed that for a moment, maybe he was right. Everything, every single thing he had done so far had just messed things up more, even though he was desperately trying to do the opposite. He still didn’t know your name but had however already managed to made you feel uncomfortable, hurt you and made you cry. What a charming suitor he was. At this point he could’ve-

«If thinking about it like this makes you feel better.» Namjoon spoke with his gaze on the maknae. He licked his lips and waited for Kookie to raise his head, but it didn’t happen. «You don’t have the dress, who cares? It’s a peace of cloth, Kook. Your apologies are more important and you still have your speech. You can do it.» he kneeled in front of him beside Hobi, finally catching his gaze. What he didn’t expect was to actually find his eyes shining because of the stressed tears he was desperate to hold.

«He’s right, Kookie. Come on, you’re the golden maknae. And if it goes wrong we’ll have finally found something you’re not good at» Jin smiled at his youngest friend, his words made him lightly giggle, Yoongi nudged him.

«Just try again, okay?» Hobi smiled at him and Jungkook had to take a few moments for himself to finally answer.

Probably, no, wait, sure as hell the easiest thing was to give up. You already had a clear picture of him by now, there was no way you were changing your mind with just an apology. He had already apologized for at least five times the other day, and he had made you cry the day right after. So the possible answers now were two: yes or no. Such a big difference between them but such a thin line for him, especially now that he had lost the only thing that maybe would’ve helped him. He didn’t want lie to himself, he knew it was easier to give up and go back to being a normal acting human, not embarrassing himself anymore and feeling like an idiot all the time. But it was too easy like that, and just the thought made him frown. He couldn’t explain what it was to himself, but there was something about you that made him fatally, hopelessly curious. Since the very first moment he saw you, something turned on inside him, and I’m not just talking about his cock.

«Okay» he whispered to himself, the air of his breath fanning the golden skin of his hands. He took a deep breath and stood up.

«What?» Yoongi asked looking at him. Jungkook nodded.

«Okay, but you promise me you won’t do anything?» he pointed his finger against Yoongi’s face and then moved it back and forth pointing at everyone of them. When they all nodded Jungkook knew it was the moment to leave the room. 

Jimin pursued his lips when he saw him walking towards the door and quickly sided him. «Wait, you’re doing it now? Is she here? It’s Sunday!» he spoke so fast and his tone changed so many times that Kook turned to face him with an amused smile, almost forgetting about what he was about to do. «Do you remember the speech?» he asked again. When Kookie nodded and finally left the room Chimin stayed still with his gaze on him, acting like a mummy leaving her little child for the first time to the kindergarten.

«He can do it» Yoongi patted his shoulder.

You weren’t supposed to be there, not on a Sunday morning when all you wanted to do was drown in your bed and never let go of your sheets without the clock pointing at least at eleven. But you didn’t have any choice when you realized what day it was. It wasn’t just an usual Sunday, your family was coming at your place for lunch in about two hours from now, and you had promised them to cook something special, or at least to try your best. You were already feeling under pressure and your parents weren’t exactly the definition of easy-going people, always ready to judge everything you would do and every step you’d take. No wonder why you’ve grown to be their total opposite, never daring to judge anyone, and you knew they hated it. But you didn’t care and kept doing your thing, without worrying too much. Luckily, distance had made everything so much easier, until this kind of moments. The stress was running through your blood like it was part of your body, you were practically on the edge. You really didn’t want to hear them complaining about your stupid passion and how you should stop chasing your dreams just to find an even more steady job than the one you already had, so you had quickly decided to bring your gym bag here. You had grabbed everything you could find in your house that could have led their thoughts to your athletic side and just stuffed all in the bag now hanging from your shoulder, from your pointe shoes to your sweat shorts.

The lockers were safe and you knew it because you had already done this at least five or six times, so you simply opened the steel door and placed your bag in it with loose motions before shutting it and locking it with you keys. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The stress of your job, the rehearsals, all the money you wanted to save to buy your house and what happened in the last days were hovering on your mind so much that you knew you would have bursted out if you had to worry about your parents too. So this was the easiest way.

Heading to the door you fastened you pace until you got out, the sun made your skin burn and you harshly puffed, already wishing the winter to come.

At the same time, Jungkook was looking for you in the whole building, he even took the stairs and went to second floor once he figured out you weren’t in your usual rehearsal room. He thought you’d be in the changing rooms but he couldn’t afford himself to the risk of finding you half naked, even though the picture of you he had in mind was making his mouth drier every second more while taking the stairs again. It was when he distractedly looked out of the window that he saw you crossing the street. His feet never ran faster than that moment, praying for you to stay on the main street so that he’d found you more easily. He crossed the hallway and made his friend’s heads turn when he rushed in front of their door, that stupid speech replaying in his head over and over again like a prayer.

«Oh man» Namjoon covered his eyes with his right hand at the sight.

Once the maknae was out of the building he welcomed the light of the sun by squinting his eyes, his already sweating body heated up even more while desperately trying to get to you. The street was not that crowded at this time of the morning with the sun almost at his highest spot and the hot breeze threatening whoever was out, so he thought he could make it. Then, he saw you stopping on the sidewalk. Maybe you noticed him? Impossible.

A second later you were opening the door of a taxi and he didn’t know if rather laugh about his bad luck or cry. He could’ve just let go and talk to you the next day, you were definitely going to rehearsal on Monday, or maybe even on Tuesday. But it’s Jungkook we’re talking about, and by now we all know a part of his brain seemed to switch off when it comes to you. Or maybe this time, it turned on. The stress he felt those days had built up so much that he just wanted to burst out once and for all. He was tired of dwelling about his clumsiness and weirdness when he was beside you and didn’t want to feel guilty for making you feel uncomfortable anymore. So he sped up, his legs almost gave in for the big gap he wanted to close in a matter of seconds. 

But he made it. He knocked at your window with his fist, hands sweating and chest raising desperately gasping for air. When you turned and squinted your eyes because of the light of the sun he again swore he had never seen something, someone that beautiful in his life, the rays of sunshine painting little sparkling stars in your pupils and your skin gleaming.

You knitted your eyebrows at the sight, the charming but odd man staring at you as if he had just seen who knows what. What did he want now? You didn’t have time for his teasing, not with all of the things you had to do before the hurricane that your parents were would show up and take over you for the next hours.

«Please» he managed to say, or at least he mouthed it, and a part of him thanked your shut window for not giving him away, but just a little part. If hearing the lack of his voice would’ve made you listen then he would’ve talked with his hands.

With everything he did he was not really expecting you to listen to him, not when he was making things awkward once again, not in this situation. He was hoping it with all of his heart, but he knew it was not going to happen. Indeed, it didn’t happen.

The taxi started and you fixated your gaze on the street without a second thought, already brushing away the weird feeling that his gaze made you feel. You checked your phone screen: 11.34. Great. You were praying every god in heaven to save you from your parents’ likely early arrive when a thump made you both frown and hit the backrest with your head harshly enough to wince. You realized your taxi just hit the one in front of him in a second. Someone was definitely mad at you.

That was Jungkook’s moment. He widened his eyes at the sight and rushed on the sidewalk before he quickly approached your cab. His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he feared for his life. He opened your door without a second thought, you were hissing through your breath, eyes shut and pursued lips. While he took in the sight you felt a gentle hot breeze on your skin. Opening your eyes you gasped when you saw him standing there. Definitely really, really mad.

«I can’t do this» you bursted out loud, more to yourself than to the men that now were both staring at you.

«It’ll only take ten minutes» the cab driver gently smiled at you. The poor man then brung his gaze to the other standing at your door, holding it so tight with his hand that his knuckles were white. You tried to fake a smile as best as you could.

«I’m sorry but I’m running out of time, I’m gonna make it on foot.» you claimed. Before waiting for any answer you shifted your gaze back to the man who was blocking you into the car, his body stiff and not giving you hits of movement. You waited for something, anything, but he just kept staring at you making you feel like a fish out of water and you didn’t have time to deal with his awkward behavior now, you were really late. So you stood up anyway, almost stepping on his toes, and you held your breath while making your way through his body and the car. The way he kept his dark doe-eyes into yours without any sign of backing off made you shiver.

Jungkook harshly gulped when your body slightly touched his, his skin tickled at the feeling, the lightest of touches creating the strongest of the addictions. «I- I can give you a- a ride?» he stuttered, finally removing his hands from the door of the car. You started walking without even turning at his words, too much overwhelmed by the awful morning you were having. Kook was staring at you still in the same place as before, mouth agape and eyes sparkling at the way you were moving your hips, but when he realized you were already on the sidewalk he forced himself to follow you.

«I’ll give you a ride?» why did he keep doing that? That was supposed to sound more sure, more like a statement maybe? You snorted.

«Please, stop it» his presence beside made you even more nervous, what did he want? Why was he doing that again?

«I- I can drive, I can ride you-» what the hell was that? God, he kept making things worse without even trying. Your face immediately shot up, eyebrows knitted together and blood boiling in your veins.

«What I meant is-» he stopped talking again, his feet did the same and for a moment he considered letting you walk away and just give up. With how fast you were walking you were already disappearing into the crowd. But he sided you again.

«Look, I don’t have time for your teasing now, you can do it tomorrow.» you didn’t need to shift your gaze from the sidewalk to know that he was again there.

«What? I- No, I want to do it now!»

Did he really said that? Turn on your damn brain, Jungkook.

You rolled your eyes. «I can’t belie-»

«Can I just give you a ride?» he suddenly blocked your way with his body, arms outstretched and dark eyes praying yours. «Not in that way» he added, desperately trying to fix his stupid mistakes.

You couldn’t understand what the hell he was doing, standing there in front of you, in the middle of the crowd, praying to give you a ride after everything that he had done in just... three times you met? 

«No.» you shook your head and quickly got over him. «In both ways» you added, slightly smirking at yourself for your words. Jungkook sneered too, following you again like a puppy.

«You’d get there faster, please. Just- just a ride?» his continue pleads made you whine and stopping your steps you turned to face him, realizing just now how much he was taller than you.

«I don’t even know your name» you stated, ready to claim your victory. Jungkook let his mouth fall agape while looking at you standing so close to him, not that it was that close, but the rays of the sun were making everything too much to handle for him.

«Jeon Jun- Jungkook?» he managed to say, to ask, voice cracking in the middle.

«You don’t sound so sure of that» strangely, you smirked. Jungkook’s heart almost stopped right there and then.

«I’m Jungkook» he repeated trying as best as he could to smile without showing his nerves on the edge. You took in the sight squinting your eyes at him.

«Okay, Jungkook. I still don’t know you, so the answer is still no» you smiled at him and were about to start walking again but he got in the way a second time. His brain panicked again when he realized he had to say something now, eyes widened and throat dry. Mind blank, totally blank.

«I wanted to buy you something for making up for what happened yesterday and the day before- oh, shit not yesterday. I mean, yesterday and the day before but the day before that too.» he lowly groaned and shut his eyes, already feeling his face heating up. He watched your features change from annoyance to curiosity and then slightly smirking, but he couldn’t quite define if you were just having fun seeing him struggle or if you were actually smiling for his words.

You can do this, Jungkook. You can do this. Just go on.

«Apparently I screwed up again. This is for you.» the only sentence he wasn’t supposed to say came out like it had its own life and the maknae’s eyes widened even more while staring at your unreadable expression.

«So?» you asked folding your arms.

«I- i can’t- oh God» Jungkook wanted the earth to swallow him in. The embarrassment was eating him alive. «I can’t give it to you» he blurted out without even trying anymore to contain his voice.

«Jungkook, I really, really, don’t have the time to deal with this now. My parents are coming over for lunch and I still have to cook, they’re gonna start a-» you started blabbering but stopped when you figured out you were saying too much. «I don’t have time.»

«I can cook.» he claimed «I can cook, I’m- I’m good at it and I’m fast» His face has never been more red than in that moment, not even when he asked her first crush ever out. Never than when he was with you.

«What are you trying to say?» you sighed, again checking your phone, the bold characters of the time made you whine.

«I can- help you with the lunch?» he tried again.«You can trust me. I swear- my friend is a chef. He-»

«Are you serious?» you interrupted his endless speech with a hint in your voice that neither the both of you quite get. Your question didn’t sound like an annoyed one, it sounded more like... Surprised? Kinda. Desperate? Oh, hell yes.

Jungkook nodded, and in a second your wheels brain worked like crazy. It was almost 12.00 and you knew that your parents wouldn’t arrive at the established time, they were probably already in the car looking forward to the moment you were going to open the door and ready to start complaining about how late you were for everything, how your life wasn’t good for you, how you should’ve been more like them. No, you weren’t playing they’re game, not today.

Going to your apartment now would’ve meant arrive in twenty minutes, then you had to make sure everything was in place and absolutely remember to lock your bedroom, your mother had this weird habit to always pry and snoop in your drawers as if you were still a teenager, you hated it. You had to cook and set the table too.

Oh, lord. You couldn’t believe you were really thinking about this.

«I’m Y/N» you sighed, locking eyes with Jungkook. The information you had just given him seemed to make his features even more shocked. 

Y/N, he repeated to himself, finally having a name for your breathtaking face. You had really told him? After all he had done so far?

«Are you really serious? Cause please, I don’t really have time for your teasing.» now it was you the one almost begging.

Jungkook’s eyes widened so much that they almost fell out as he forced himself to nod. «Yes, I- I’m serious. I can help you?» his voice was shaking.

«If you promise your friend won’t set fire to my kitchen?»

Jungkook’s features lost all their hope in a blink hearing your words. He really thought you were letting him in your place to help you considering all the awkwardness between you two? Well, he hoped it. It would’ve been a good way to prove you he wasn’t a jerk and maybe get to know you a little better. It wasn’t fair to be that much head over heels for someone you don’t even know. But that thought vanished in an instant. It took him a few seconds to understand he had to call Jin.

Please, please. He hoped the rehearsals were over and that he had already taken a shower.

«I promise, I swear he won’t do it» Jungkook’s sweaty hands went in his pockets and grabbed the phone. «I- I’ll call him»

You let yourself sigh when he brung the phone to his ear. This was all too overwhelming, the nervousness was eating you alive and the fact that now you had to worry about his friend too made you hold another sigh. Please, tell me he’s not teasing me again. This was your prayer, the words echoing through your mind like a mantra while the man talked to his phone taking a few steps to distance himself from you.

«Jin, please. You own me this for the dress. And I promise I- I will do whatever you want me to do. Just, please do this for me» he prayed lowering his voice and staring at you.

«You’re lucky I just changed. Alright.» Jin nodded on the other side of the line, everyone was staring at him waiting to know what happened.

«Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you» 

«I know, how can’t someone love me?» he scoffed «Where are you?»

«A few block away from the studio, in front of the crossroad, but please hurry up. Really, she’s running out of time»

«Alright, alright. I’m on my way. Don’t say or do awkward things.» that was the last sentence he left him with.

Jungkook stared at you for a little bit before putting his phone back in his pockets, studying the way you were biting your lips and snorting from time to time, fingers playing with each other in nervous movements. He couldn’t help but ask himself why you were so nervous. Your parents were coming over, shouldn’t you be happy to spend some time with your family?

You were desperate, totally overwhelmed from your parents’s judgement, still thinking about their faces when they would see you hired a chief just for a stupid lunch. “Couldn’t you do this on your own?”, “This is ridiculous.”, their voices were already playing in your mind.

You turned to look at Jungkook, his gaze immediately leaving your face and his cheeks flashing red. You approached him in a second.

«He’s coming» he let out a deep breath, and so did you. You didn’t have to worry about lunch anymore, thanks God. «I- why... Can I ask you why are you so nerv- nervous?» his question made your mouth fall agape. Was it that obvious? 

«I’m not»

«Oh» he puffed «O-okay. I’m sorry» you frowned.

«Why do you keep saying that?» Jungkook gulped harshly.

«I- I shouldn’t have asked.» and now he was looking like a puppy for the first time in front of your eyes. For a moment he didn’t seem the charming awkward man that had made you feel uncomfortable anymore. The silence filled the air even though the streets were chaotic. 

Seeing him like that made you speak: «You won’t tease?»

«Wha-What? Why?» Kook thought the conversation was already over, so when you asked him he really didn’t had his brain working. «I mean, why should I t-tease you?» doe-eyes staring directly into yours.

«You always do it» you shrugged. In that moment, Jungkook really felt awful. You really thought all he had done was because he was teasing you?

«I don’t»

«Yes, you do»

«No, I don’t» his voice sounded firm for the first time. Your eyes left his.

«Then this is you? You usually act like... you acted yesterday? And the day before? And the-»

«No, I- I don’t» he sighed «but I’m not teasing you. I never wanted to?»

«Why are you asking me?»

«I’m not! It’s just-» he let the sentence disappear like a speck of dust blown off by the window. «I won’t tease» his voice made you look back into his eyes and the silence filled the space between you two again, your face lost his brightness.

«My parents are not easy-going people. It’s just that.» Jungkook raised his eyebrows.

«Yes, but a chief?» he let out without even thinking, the second he saw your features changing he wanted to slap himself.

«I know, it’s desperate» he held his breath, the guilt already sneaking in his body for letting you think he thought that.

«No!» his voice came out louder than expected «I-It’s not. I was just curious. Maybe I should hire Seokjin too when my parents come to my place. He cooks better than me» you scoffed and his heart sped up like crazy. Finally, he thought. He was dying to hear that sound escape your lips, and now that he was the cause of it he wanted to hear it more.

«Jungkook!» Jin’s voice remembered him what you were really doing and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he turned to watch him get closer with each step. Your mouth hanging open at the sight. Tall, broad shoulders and a charming face. Was it a thing running in his group?

«I’m Kim Seokjin, but call me Jin. I’m your chief for today.» he introduced himself once he stood in front of you.

«I’m Y/N. Thank you for doing this, I’m aware I didn’t give you time to-»

«Don’t worry, really. It’s not a problem.» he smiled. You nodded and gulped nervously before glancing at Jungkook, who was standing there shifting his gaze between you and his friend, praying everything would work out fine.

«Let’s go, you can tell me about what you’d like to eat while we get to your place»

And with that, you nodded at him and gave a smile to the maknae. Jungkook’s heart skipped a few beats.

«I swear, she has the worst parents ever.» Jin claimed, eyes wide and shocked features. «They really aren’t easy-going people.»

«Did they complain about the food?» Namjoon asked, the hyung raised his eyebrows.

«They didn’t dare, luckily for them,» he scoffed. «but from what I heard from the kitchen that woman really has the strongest self-control ever»

«What happened?» Hobi sat beside him on the couch.

«You mean what didn’t happen. First, when they came in they didn’t even greet her, they just gave her their coats and ran past her like nothing.» he raised his index finger while shaking his head. Jungkook’s eyes widened.

«Then they started complaining about her apartment. “I don’t really know how you like this place so much”, “it’s so small”, “do you even have a second bathroom in here?”, “you should move”. I mean, let her breathe!» he imitated your parents’s voices, an high-pitched tone for your mother and a weird twang for you father. His middle finger went up.

«After that, her mother tried to break into her room as if she’s a fifteen years old teenager. What the hell was that? She even locked it before they came in, I saw her.» and now his ring finger too.

«What?» Yoongi couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and neither the others. Everyone’s expression was only screaming shock, staring at their friend like he was telling them a crime novel. Jungkook had his eyebrows knitted together, mouth agape and an emotion neither he could quite get running through his blood.

«I swear I’m not making this up! They’re the worst!» Jin shook his head. «When they saw me serving the plates her mother raised her eyebrows and waited for me to go into the kitchen before she started spitting out all her venom. “Couldn’t you do this on your own? Of course not. You’re still trying to dance, right? That’s why you don’t even have time to learn how to cook”, “your mother is right, you should start to act like an adult, Y/N. I think it’s time for you to stop with that”. It was like being in hell, and I was in my heaven, you know I love standing in front of the stove. I honestly don’t know how she managed to stay calm.»

«Oh, God. She must feel so much pressure» Hobi muttered, Yoongi and Taehyung nodded.

«I know. I could see it in her eyes when I left, she was acting like nothing happened but she really seemed wrecked. She insisted to pay me but I refused her money, I told her she’s fine since is your “friend”» Jin looked at Jungkook, who weakly smiled as a thank you for his actions. He already knew that your parents were not that easy from your words and the way you acted that morning, but God, he never though they’d be like this. How did you even manage to not burst out at them?

Your pillow was doing nothing to muffle your sobs, they could be heard even with the sound of the TV on and the sheets hiding you from the light light of the screen. Useless to say, you were feeling like shit. You always tried your best but always fail with them. You were used to it, so why were you crying? Again? You wished your parents were different, more amenable, you even wished you were different, the daughter they expected you to be. But you weren’t, and all you were left with was hope, every time. Maybe the next time will be better, that was what you usually told to yourself, and that was probably why you ended up crying this time too. You needed to stop it and face the fact that it was not going to be better. You weren’t the problem, and deep inside you you knew it.

You simply needed to face it.

Finally, here comes today. It’s weird for you to think this, but you actually want to meet Jungkook, to thank him. The awful night you had made you think of how hard you try with your parents even though you keep telling yourself it’s not true. After having a chief cooking for you, the only thing you can do is cope with it. You can’t deny you were being anxious for the whole time, still skeptical about the situation, afraid that Jungkook was maybe teasing you again and his friend was no one but a someone looking for fun him too. But he wasn’t, he’s been nice for the entire time, always smiling and trying to make you feel comfortable, he sure knows how to marvel a new client. You saw him blinking a few times because of your parents’s words, but you’re grateful he didn’t tell you anything. He was professional and friendly, and you feel so sorry about not paying him and making him deal with the awkward lunch of you and your parents.

Thus, you are now walking in the studio hoping to find Jungkook or maybe one of his friends, not sure of what exactly are his schedules. You look for him until you realize you’re already five minutes late for your rehearsals so you decide to rush back in your room. What you didn’t expect is to find him at your doorframe, eyes shifting from person to person. His figure makes you hold your breath, his features taken by whoever his looking for, lips pursued, tall and muscled body wrapped in a pair of black jeans and a gray shirt.

«Jungkook?» you call. Jungkook’s heart drops when he realizes it’s your voice, then in a second the embarrassment is there again, making his ears and cheeks flashing red.

«H-hi?» he slowly moves his stare until it’s on your face.

«Were you looking for me?» his eyes wide, he weakly raises his eyebrows and now his lips are slightly parted in a pout.

«N-no? Yes, I mean no, I- fuck» he mutters, shutting his eyes at the end of the uncommon answer and hissing under his breath. You knit your eyebrows. Once he opens his eyes again you can’t help but smirk, just a little bit. With the half-gone sensation of him teasing at you it’s more easy to do it.

«I- what was the question?» he really doesn’t know how to answer you. You scoff and shake your head.

«Never mind, I was looking for you but now I really can’t talk. Do you have some time later?» your uncertain tone makes you cringe, again feeling weird in front of him. You can’t help it, it’s just something that happens every time in his presence.

His brain stops working again. «Oh, yes? Y-yeah»

«What- what time do you get off?»

«I- well, I- uhm... Yoongi!» he suddenly screams, panicking and widening his eyes when he shifts them from you to his friend, his tone radiates nothing but frustration.

Thanks God, he thinks, but a second later he’s already regretting it. You quickly turn to see his friend approaching you in heavy footsteps, and when you link his face to his name another wave of uncomfortableness sneaks in your body.

Yoongi looks at you only when he sides his friend, gulping harshly and trying to fake a smile as best as he can. «Hi, I’m Yoongi?»Why do they all speak like this? 

He shifts his eyes from you to Jungkook and viceversa, hoping someone to talk and tell him what the hell is he doing there with you two. When Jungkook finally speaks his voice his shaking. «What dime do- do we get o-off?» his eyes are basically praying Yoongi to answer.

«I think at seven?»

«Oh» he lets out, lowering his gaze on you again. You try to shrug off the mix of emotions his dark eyes give you.

«Okay, I... I’ll wait for you? I guess, if you tell me-»

«13» Yoongi interrupts your blabbering seeing that the maknae’s face is as blank as a white sheet paper, still in shock from what’s happening, he probably wouldn’t have known how to answer you.

«Thank you. See you later then» you try to smile without letting your uneasiness creep in and quickly enter the rehearsal room, letting out a deep breath.

«You know you’ll have to talk to her later, right? And what was she talking about?» Yoongi asks as soon as you can’t hear him. Jungkook shrugs.

«She- she wants to talk? I’m gonna die in the awkwardness, I know it. I’m gonna embarrass myself so much I won’t even be able to breathe, fuck.»

«Y/N?» Jungkook stares at your reflection in the mirror, his movements suddenly stop nd Hobi frowns at him.

«Jungkook, what are you doing?» he screams over the music. The maknae blinks a few times before he understands you’re looking at him and he’ll make everything more awkward if he keeps standing still like this with his eyes on you. Thus, he takes a deep - deep - breath and  counts the time again before catching up with the moves.

His body makes you hold your breath, his movements are clean and outright, his style is impactful, even the small details incredibly focused and accurate. His muscles twitch under the clothes, and you can outline the muscles of his legs even without even trying. Only the sight makes you shudder. His body is something you really didn’t dwell on, too much taken aback from the way he usually acts around you, but having a show like this in front of your eyes is something you can’t really turn away to. The way he moves his hips in a particular move has you clenching around nothing, and you suddenly blush at the thought of how he’d move them in a different situation, your heart beats faster.

Jungkook tries to not let your presence influence his rehearsals but he can’t help to steal a few glances at you while he moves on the rhythm. When he sees you blushing and glancing down his body he can’t help but smirk a little bit, even though his heart beats louder with every second. He glances away again when you eventually raise your eyes to his face, body stiffening in an second.

When the music finally stops and you seem to wake up from your trance you find yourself looking at the others, realizing only now that you probably should have asked before coming in the room like this, so you stand up and go out in a second.

Yoongi suddenly runs behind you.

«Y/N? Right?» you have no chance but to turn and nod.

«I’m sorry, I sho-»

«You can stay.» he smiles at you «And I’m sorry for the tea, the other day»

«Are you sure?»

«About the tea? I’m really sorry» he bits the inside of his cheek.

«No, I mean are you sure I-»

«Oh, yes. Jungkook would like it if you stayed» he suddenly points his thumb to Jungkook, who’s staring at the two of you with his lips parted and apparently in trance like you were just a few seconds ago. When your eyes lock with his you shrug to hide the weird shiver sneaking into your back.

«Okay, then» you smile at Yoongi and head back to the bench at the side of the room. 

You spend at least twenty five minutes staring at Jungkook, your eyes rarely meet the figures of his friends, completely taken by the way he moves and the emotions he makes you feel with every song. At the beginning the maknae feels his cheeks heating up and his body as stiff as a trunk, but with the time passing by and the seconds becoming minutes he slowly gains a little bit of confidence, and when you see him even more free and secure you can’t help but take in the sight releasing a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. He’s like a magnet, some weird kind of energy attracts you to him, maybe it’s the way he speaks with his face or the way his eyes seem even darker and deeper when he sometimes glances at you and immediately glances back. Time seems to run and before you know it the music stops again and the group is lets out uneven breaths, heading to the bench you’re sitting on to grab their towels.

You feel your cheeks heat up when you notice almost every one of them glance at you with a look you can’t really read. Jungkook is still in front of the mirror, eyes completely focused on the way his body moves and repeating movements like a mantra. When he finally stops and turns around his gaze locks with yours, his heart pounds in his chest, palms sweaty all of a sudden.

«Kook, here!» one of his friends throws him a bottle of water and the man quickly catches it bringing it to his lips and taking a few sips. You watch the way his adam’s apple moves from your seat. He closes the bottle and finally heads to the bench, he feels so nervous he’d do something awkward and make you both feel uncomfortable that he almost thinks of running away. The others seem to quickly disappear to go to change and when he finally stands beside you you don’t really know how to act. The silence fills the room and makes you wince, your tongue comes out to wet the petals of your lips, Jungkook holds his breath.

«I like your style of dancing, the way you move» you blurt out. The maknae seems almost shocked at your words.

«I- I like it too» and here we go again. «I mean, I like yours too?»

«You watched me dancing?»

Jungkook groans. «I- oh, ye- yes?» he quickly gives up on lying «I watched you»

«Oh, I didn’t notice» you nervously smile. «Thank you, then»

Jungkook brings his white towel to his neck, wiping the sweat from his skin. That stupid action hits you like a wrecking ball.

«I’m- I’m sorry for everything that happened,» he speaks without thinking «I- I never wanted to tease you. I’m really sorry it- it came out like that. Really sorry.» his tone is shaky and he still can’t believe he managed to let out a full sentence without embarrassing himself or you. For some kind of reason his words make your gaze deepen in his, the weight of your irises almost crashing down Jungkook’s mind.

 You shake your head. «You apologize every time» a smile breaks through your mask.

«I don’t want to... make you feel uncomfortable? It’s just... I’m really so- sorry if it came out in the wrong way. I always end up embarrassing myself but I wanted to make a good impression, it’s just-» he suddenly stops talking, feeling all of a sudden even more nervous to say the words he was almost spilling out, he scraps at the back of his neck.

«You make me nervous» he really said it. 

His words hit you like a train, fast enough to make you doubt you really heard them and hard enough to stun you. «I make you nervous? Oh, I’m sorry I-»

«No, no, no, no» he quickly complaints «In a good way, I- I guess?» 

«What do you mean?»

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak a few times but always fails and closes it, before putting the towel on the bench and harshly gulping. «I- Can we talk about something else? Please?» he almost whines, making a weird smile form on your lips.

«Do you want to go to the cafe?»

He nods at your proposal, lifting his index finger. «Just give me a minute to change and-» he lowers to grab at all his stuff on the bench but unintentionally hits the bottle of water which falls to the ground. He lets out a deep shaky breath, the words I’m so bad at this echoing in his mind. You manage to bend over and grab it but at the same time he takes a step towards it to do the same, stopping when he sees your hands holding the bottle. When you raise back, the view you meet with makes you hold your breath and your cheeks red like peppers, Jungkook is not quick enough to rush back, and you can’t help but feel uncomfortable again, but this time there’s a different emotion too that you’re not quick enough to grasp.

It happens in a matter of seconds, but it seems like minutes when you glance at him, standing tall and looking at you bewitched by the sight of you like this. And he needs to remember himself you’re actually here to hold back the dirty thoughts that are already filling his head. You gulp hard, your eyes scanning his beautiful features and saving the breathtaking sight, his crotch almost touching your cheek because of the lack of distance. And you can’t deny, your thoughts take you to a different dimension that makes you fucking throb.

«Just- give me- give me a minute?» Jungkook stutters with a deep low voice, heavy breath and cheeks heating up.

«This are the kind of things that makes me think of you teasing me» you don’t even know where your words came out from, how’d you manage to make a full sentence still watching him from the same position.

«I swear, I didn’t want to-»

«It’s okay» you unintentionally lick your lips and he finds it even harder to keep a clear head, his cock already hardening. «Go?»

He slowly nods waking up from his trance, and manages to rush back into the fitting room with fast steps and heavy breathing, hoping that the others are not there. Not now that with every steps he takes he feels harder with the image of your eyes looking at him from down.

«Fuck» he hisses letting his bag fall to the bench. Luckily, no one’s here anymore and he’s only left with his boner. What is he supposed to do now? He can’t just change and go out, you’d see it, definitely.

Fuck.

Jungkook quickly heads to the door of the bathroom and takes a deep breath before locking it, lowering his sweat pants and his boxers on his thighs. The second the material doesn’t hug him anymore his cock jumps to his stomach, tip already red and dripping with precum. How do you manage to get him this hard without even trying?

His hand immediately wraps around his shaft, squeezing himself a little bit, just enough to make his head fall back and his lips part letting out a strangled whine. 

«Fuck» he hisses before he starts moving his hand, his mind going back at you and how damn good you looked before at the height of his cock. The first time he masturbated thinking about you sucking him dry he didn’t really think he would ever have a picture of you to accompany his actions to. And now that he has it, he can’t seem to get enough of it. You’d look so fucking good giving him the blowjob of his life, hollowing your cheeks and wrapping him in your mouth, he’d fuck it so good you’d be drooling and gagging for him. His thumb slowly caresses his frenulum and he twitches under his hand, stroking himself faster and harder. He doesn’t even realize it but the image of you he has in mind is making him louder than he usually is, panting and hissing, begging to explode.

«Oh my god, fuck.» he groans.

You can’t hear him from where you are, but your tights are tightening anyway. What happened just a few moments ago is replaying in your mind over and over again. The view he gave you of him staring directly into your eyes while you were basically facing his cock it’s making you go out of your mind. You can’t deny he’s charming, with features that make you feel dizzy, but this was too much to handle even for you. Your mind can’t help but fantasize how he’d fist your hair while you’d lick him, and just the thought makes you clench around nothing, the wetness between your folds already soaking your knickers. You try to push the image away, but the way you’re desperately squeezing your thighs for some kind of friction tells a total different story.

Jungkook bites his lips, his abdomen twitching and his shoulders heavily raising.

«Y/N» he whines, picturing you on your knees for him. In his mind, your hands are one on his inner thigh and the other playing with his nipple, twirling it between your index and thumb and making him even more sensible.

«Shit, so good» his voice is husky, sure as hell it would make you shudder and fall on your knees if you’d only hear it. His movements become more sloppy, the knot in his stomach almost about to burst. He groans and speeds up even more, hips practically hitting his hand with every stroke. He imagines your thighs tightened, the wetness in your folds, the way you’d taste, and he feels even closer.

«So fucking good»

Jungkook spits in his hand. His breath stutters more, and he suddenly doesn’t remember how to breathe anymore as he strokes himself harder, the lewd sound of him shoving in his fist becomes louder, the only sound feeling the bathroom and the fitting room.

The thought of you cupping his balls and massaging it makes him do the same thing, he pictures your tongue licking and swirling around the head of his cock. That is the last chunk he needs to come undone in his palm, spatters of white hitting his chest as he fucks himself through his orgasm until he’s too sensitive to even make one more stroke, letting his head resting on the door behind him. Eyes closed, heavy breath and mouth completely dry, Jungkook takes some time to recover from the heavenly climax he just reached.

God, what he’d give to know that he had the exact effect you had on him, but you’re just too shy to do something about it here. If you were home, well that would be a different thing. You’d help yourself with your vibrator, fucking it into you like it was him. But now, now you’re just trying to contain your thoughts, waiting for him to come out and go to the cafe.

When you realize it’s been a while since he disappeared you decide it’s better to go and see if everything’s okay. Standing up you unsurely walk to the door of the fitting room, the structure of the building being always the same makes finding the way easier. You knock at the door.

«Jungkook? Are you okay?»

«I- uhm, I’m coming, give me a second!» he answers back with a high-pitched tone, so you nod and go back to your bench, waiting for him. It takes him another three minutes to finally come out, his hair are a little bit messy and you think he must’ve ran his hands through them a few times.

«Are we- are we still going?» he asks. With your worries at the door of the fitting room he thought you might have heard him before, but when you nod and smile he lets his previous thoughts fade.

You head out of the studio and to the cafe, trying to ignore the way your panties practically slips against your folds. Jungkook tries to think about what to say and how to begin a safe conversation for the both of you without feeling uncomfortable or awkward but he just can’t seem to find nothing else than the question he asks.

«You wanted to talk?» lowering his gaze to his side he looks at you walking in silence. You quickly nod.

«I wanted to thank you, actually» you turn to smile at him, the butterflies in in stomach invading every part of his body.,«You know, for Jin.»

«Oh, no- no problem» he smiles back, his eyes sparkling and you can’t deny the sudden warmth you feel in your chest. «It’s the least I could do, for what happened?» his sentence sounds again like a question, but by now you’re kinda used to it. You scoff.

«Let’s say I forgive you for the dress and the awkward meeting» you tease. His eyes squint and he wrinkles his nose.

«That wasn’t my fault» he murmurs.

«Your friend?»

He nods. «Teahyung»

«Well, then I forgive Teahyung and you for the dress» you smile again, his heart is beating like crazy.

«How much do I have to embarrass my-myself for the drink Yoongi spilled on you?» he’d like to giggle but he feels so freaking nervous that all he can do is let out a puff.

«I don’t know, you’re pretty good at that. I’d end up enjoying the show eventually and it wouldn’t be fair, I’d let you go on» you tease again. Jungkook’s cheeks heat up. His brain trying to understand if you’d say something like this because you like the way he acts around you or just for the fun of teasing him. The truth is, neither you know it now.

«It’s the thing I seem to be better at» your giggle makes him feel lighter.

«I was kidding» you stop your steps and he realizes you’re already in front of the cafe.

«You’re forgiven, more than forgiven. I actually feel like I owe you something now» you explain looking directly in his dark eyes, and damn, he’s really beautiful.

«Oh- no, no! Don’t, please» he shakes his head. «I- I wanted to make it up to you, you don’t owe me anything»

«Well, let me get you a coffee or something you’d like at least?» you point at the shop behind you. Jungkook licks his lips and takes another deep breath before nodding, following you in and trying to look elsewhere but the way you swing your hips with every step. You’re gonna be the death of him, and he’s slowly falling even more with every word you say.

Thanks to the time the cafe is almost empty, only two or three clients are sit on the chairs at the counter. Nevertheless, you sit at your favorite table, the one in the corner always forgotten by practically everyone. There’s something about this table that makes you feel safe, maybe it’s because no one seems to look at it, sometimes even the waitress forgets it.

«I’ll get a tea» you announce without even glancing at the menu, Jungkook tilts his head to the side and hides his head behind it. You wait for him to choose what he wants and when he’s done you raise your hand to the waitress behind the counter. The woman quickly walks to you, giving you a gentle smile.

«What can I serve you?»

«A tea for me»

«I’ll have a Red Velvet latte» Jungkook says, leaving you amused by his choice. The waitress quickly nods and leaves you with another smile.

«Red Velvet?» you ask «I’ve always wanted to try it but I always end up with tea or coffe» you reveal, Kook raises his eyebrows.

«I like- I like it. Maybe you want a sip?»

«Don’t worry, I’ll get it the next time»

«We can switch drinks if you want» he says as the same time as you.

«Really, Jungkook, don’t worry» you smile at him.

«Anyway, I really am thankful for Jin yesterday. He helped me a lot, without him I’d probably end up having a breakdown» you scoff at the end of your sentence even though it’s true. Jungkook watches you as you speak, completely taken by your words and the way you move your lips, your voice seems to be the only thing catching his ears now, not even one of his favorite songs playing in the background gets him.

«Thank you for being so nice and help me, Jungkook. It was Sunday and-»

«Hey, no problem» he cuts off your rumbling with his hand on yours, and the second he realizes what he has just done he takes it away with wide eyes. The only trace he leaves on your skin is the dampness of his sweaty palms.

«I’m- I’m sorry»

«Stop it, please» you almost whine and his features instantly sadden, afraid he just made another mistake. He tries to hide his expression but fails, and the guilt sneaks into you making you shake your head.

«I mean, stop being so stiff. Tell me, what is it?» you ask.

«What?»

«What do I do to make you this nervous?» you ask again. «I can try and-»

«It’s not you.» he cuts you off again. «I- I mean it is you, but it’s me. I-» he stutters.

«I can try to hide my face if you want» youironically propose as you grab the menu and cover your face with it. Jungkook frowns but immediately smiles at your silliness. «Does it work?»

«It- It’s not making any difference» he holds back a laugh.

«Are you sure?» you giggle. He shakes his head.

«I am, just- please, look at me» his words play a strange trick on your mind, making you harshly gulp as your heart skips a few beats. It’s noy like he had just said something that important, but your mind goes blank for a second.

«Y/N?» he calls, eyes fixated on the menu you’re holding. He stretches his arm out and grabs at the paper, slowly lowering it from your face. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. Jungkook stares at every feature of your face taking in the sight in front of him, the power you have on him is fucking scary, and he’s realizing it for the first time now looking in your eyes.

«What happened?» he lets out in a whisper, not really certain of his voice at the moment. You gulp and shake your head. You don’t even know what happened, how are you supposed to explain him?

«There you go, your tea and your Red Velvet» the waitress comes in the way, and you thank her in your mind for saving you from the awkward situation you just putted yourself into. However, the interruption is fast and she leaves in a matter of seconds leaving you with your drinks.

You can’t help but glance at his glass, the crimson color of the drink intrigues you and the chocolate chips on top are the perfect frame. Jungkook lifts it from the table and stretches his arm again towards you, putting the drink basically under your nose.

«Try it» he manages to say holding his breath. He doesn’t even know where he gained all of this boldness, he just did it without thinking. And now that you stare at him he’s beginning to think he’s making things awkward again.

Your hands cover his, giving birth to another session of butterflies in his stomach and a shudder running down your spine. Jungkook understands he has to remove his hand from the glass to make you drink and he slips away like he just got burn by a blazing fire.

Taking a sip you let yourself taste the sweetness of the latte and the chocolate chips before giving him his drink again, deciding this will definitely be your next order at this place.

«It’s so good» you whine, Jungkook smiles.

«It’s one of my favorite drinks, Jin- he always tries new things and likes to feed us like babies. He introduced me to this»

«I really like it» you bring your cup of tea to your lips, taking a sip. «My tea is so boring now» his smile widens.

«We can really switch drinks if you-»

«No, don’t worry, really»

He nods, taking the first sip of his Red Velvet.

«So Jin is kinda like the mama of the group?» Jungkook smiles at your comment.

«He is the oldest» he nods. «He likes to take care of us and we like to eat» you giggle at his words.

«His cooking is really good, I haven’t eaten that good in months. I should have insisted more on paying him» you take another sip from your tea.

«Trust me, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it» Jungkook smiles at you, and it’s a matter of seconds before he finally noticed he’s not stuttering anymore. In fact, he feels more comfortable. «He was happy to help»

«Oh, trust me, he helped me a lot»

You try to think what would’ve happen yesterday if it wasn’t for him, the result would have been even worse than it already is. Jungkook’s heart warms up knowing he was really able to help you, he made something right. The smile you have on your face makes him want to work even more to create a brand new one.

«What about Yoongi? Does he spill his drinks on everyone?»

«No, he doesn’t» Jungkook scoffs and avoids telling you the reason why he actually spilled it. «He’s the second hyung. Actually, he’s usually very quiet. His stage name is Suga»

«I heard about him» you raise your eyebrows. «Someone told me he injured his shoulder fighting over a first prize but I didn’t think it was him they were talking about, and honestly I didn’t know if it was true» 

The maknae shakes his head. «It’s not true. He actually got injured while working, he had to find a job to pay for his dance lessons and eventually he started a delivering job. He got hit by a car.» Jungkook stares at the wooden table «People often say that or that he tried to beat one of the judges and got kicked in his ass. I don’t get why they like to make up something so stupid» an heavy sigh leaves his lips.

«Last year I broke my uncle because I was pushing myself too hard for a contest and eventually I didn’t perform. I heard people say I couldn’t ‘cause I was pregnant» you tell him, the memory still makes you wrinkle your nose. Jungkook’s eyes widens before he opens his mouth.

«I hate rumors» he mumbles. «Who- who do you want to know about now?» he stutters a little bit, deciding to bring back the conversation to a positive vibe.

«Taehyung? Was it his name?» you squint your eyes.

«Yes» he nods. «Taehyung is the second maknae and a fashion icon in the group, we always try to look as cool as him but he just has that something that makes you give up and stay in your sweat pants.» you giggle at his comment and he can’t help but smile at your sparkling eyes.

«He doesn’t usually act like the first time we met, he’s pretty confidential.» Jungkook takes the last sip of his Red Velvet and you do the same with your now almost cold tea while you take in all the informations.

«Namjoon is the dad of the group, he’s always willing to give you advices but at the same time able to give you a good shake. He and Jimin are my go to when I need to talk to someone, but the others are pretty good at listening too. Jimin is the third maknae»

«Who’s the first?»

Jungkook puckers his lips. «Me» 

«How old are you?»

«I’m twenty two» he answers, remembering this is the last day he gets to say it. For a little moment he thinks of you at his birthday, but he forces himself to push the picture away, it would be weird to invite you when you’re talking fr the first time.

«I’m older than you!» you can’t help but exclaim, Jungkook licks his lips.

«Really?»

You nod.«I’m twenty four»

«How- how should I call you then?» he bits his lips, a little bit of nervousness sneaks again into him, worried you don’t like the way he has been talking to you.

«Oh, please don’t call me noona!» you shake your head and smile at him.

«Are you sure?»

«Yes, Jungkook. Don’t change the way you were talking to me, I liked it. It was natural» you smile at him, your heart beats faster when a smile shines on his face and lights up his features. Jungkook is trying to be as natural as he can, trying to speak without blubbering still stunned by your presence in front of him, and hearing those words make him less tense.

«Hoseok is the only one left. He’s a ray of sunshine, always able to make you smile and laugh. His stage name is J-Hope. He’s a spring, his movements are as fluid as water. Oh, and he can’t hide his expressions whenever he’s angry, even though it’s difficult to annoy him. His face goes like this» Jungkook’s try to emulate his friend is quickly cut off by your bursting laugh because of his expression, and he can’t hold back his giggles at the sound of your happiness.

«Sounds like a beautiful group» you say when you finally stop laughing, your cheeks are hurting while you take a look inside your mug, realizing only now it’s empty.

«It is, they’re my family» the tone he uses makes a knot built up in your throat, smiling melancholic. And who the hell knows why, Jungkook notices it. 

«Is- is something wrong? Did I say-»

«No, no, no. It’s fine, I’m fine» you quickly say smiling again. He would like to ask you what’s wrong again until you’d probably end up answering him but he thinks he’d invade your personal space and annoying you.

«Are you sure? I- I know I ask this a lot but-»

«I’m sure, thank you for asking» you interrupt him with another gentle smile. Jungkook knows it’s not true, but he nods anyway, bringing his gaze to his empty glass. His action makes you bring yours to your phone, unlocking the screen and realizing only now it’s almost eight and a half.

«I should go now»

He raises his glance, the feeling in his chest it’s telling him to not let you go but he can’t do that.

«I’ll see you tomorrow at the studio?» you ask him while getting up from your chair, rummaging through your purse looking for the wallet. Jungkook is about to say yes when he remembers tomorrow it’s their free day.

«No, not tomorrow» he smiles at you getting up and producing a shrill sound with his chair against the floor, his cheeks heat up for the fiftieth time only in an hour.

«Oh, I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday then? Or whenever we-»

«Could you give me your number?»

If he thought his heart already risked a heart attack many times with you, then now he should be dead from the way it’s beating. Blood running through his body so fast that he can hear it his in his ears, the tip of them and his cheeks flashing red, palms sweating more than before. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked you.

You stare at him for a few seconds, completely stuttered by his question as you gulp harshly and blink a few times.

«You- you promise you won’t send me nudes?» you joke, and this time you are the one who’s left with her mouth agape, wondering where the hell that just came out from. «Oh my-»

«If you don’t ask for them I won’t» Jungkook scoffs, the fact you just said something like that is making him feel lighter. You raise your eyebrows at him.

«I won’t, I surely won’t» you quickly rebut but you’re afraid he might be offended so you keep adding words making everything worse. «I mean- not that I wouldn’t like them, it’s just-»

«Y/N» he interrupts your dwelling. «I- I won’t send or ask for nudes» he laughs at his own words at the end of the sentence, making you grimace.

«I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that»

«It’s okay» he smiles at you and you let out a shaky breath before putting ten bucks on the table and heading to the door with him.

Jungkook dials your number on his phone and quickly sends you a message to let you save his, still freaking out in his mind for what happened in just an hour of being with you.

The afraid of being awkward he felt at the beginning is still there, but he feels more comfortable now that he knows a little bit about you. He’s still nervous, palms still sweaty and heart still beating like crazy, gaze still trying to lock with yours just to shudder and blush under it. He likes the way his nervousness shaded with the comfortableness you made him feel talking to you, his chest both threatening to explode because of the tension but still tasting the sweetness of the naturalness and ease, the combo is one of the weirdest to ever exist, but it’s true.

«Goodbye, Jungkook» you smile at him after putting your phone back in your purse. You think about your actions for a moment before quickly tiptoeing and leaving a soft peck on his cheek that makes him almost feel dizzy. The way your soft lips touched his skin will haunt him even in his dreams tonight. He’s not rapid enough to smile at you while you turn and walk away, too shocked by your actions, but he smiles anyway.

This is the first time Jungkook realizes he just had a bite of the cake, and now he wants to eat it all.

«Are you kidding?» Taehyung’s deep voice resonates through the stairwell and Jungkook can hear it even by pulling his phone away from his ear.

«I’m not, Tae» he rushes to the door and hangs up before opening it sure that his friend is already there. In fact, he is. Standing still in front of him in his Gucci palazzo trousers looking like a model.

«Happy birthday, Kookie» he smiles at him and hugs him tight making Jungkook chuckle.

«You just said it on the phone»

«I know» he pats his shoulder. «Where are the others?»

«They’re coming» Jungkook takes a look to his lounge, the table is already set and the food is almost ready, Jin will be proud of him.

«Is she coming too?» Taehyung asks, Jungkook turns like top.

«What? No»

«Why not?»

«I don’t know... we don’t have that much of intimacy. And with you?» he knits his eyebrows thinking of the possible ending of doing something like that. «She’d probably feel like a fish out of water and you’re gonna embarrass me if I’m not the one doing it» he shakes his head.

The bell rings and Kook rushes to the door to welcome his friends, Hobi and Jin are standing there with the biggest smiles on their faces and hands full of envelopes, smiles as bright as the sun.

«There will be a day when you’ll be old and people will make fun of you, and it’s coming! Happy birthday!» Jin hugs the maknae laughing for his own words and Jungkook does the same. Hobi joins the hug, making Tae grimace and run to them.

«I feel alone» he mumbles before wrapping his arms around the three of them, Jungkook in the middle is almost dying, being the burger in the middle of the bread.

«Happy birthday!» Hobi screams, his voice echoing in the hallways remembers Jungkook the door is still open.

«Okay, now set me free» he laughs. «Where are the others?» their grip on him loosen and he finally closes the door.

«They went to buy you a cake, Seokjin made you one but Joon ate it last night without knowing it was yours» Hobi burst out laughing.

«It was obvious! He should’ve known it!» Jin screams frustrated with his eyes wide.

«Look at that!» Jimin points at the cake through the glass, his eyes sparkling at the sight and his mouth begging to taste the sweetness of the sponge cake. He looks like a baby.

«Ugh, Chimin! It’s for Jungkook, not you!» Namjoon scolds him making the corners of his mouth drop.

«I know what he likes!» he says back. Yoongi shuts his eyes, they’ve been in here for almost ten minutes now, fighting over which cake they could buy and not really getting anything.

«Do you-»

«He’ll like that» Yoongi cuts off Joonie’s words and point at the cake nodding to the pastry chef behind the counter who quickly smiles at him.

«Could you write “Jungkook” on top of it?» Jimin asks with a kind smile, the baker nods and he raises his eyebrows at Namjoon.

«See? It’s gonna be perfect, you need to listen to me!»

Namjoon sighs and shakes his head, taking a glance out of the shop to see his girlfriend still in the car waiting for them, eyes fixated on her phone.

Your parents had decided to ring your doorbell without telling you they were coming over. Luckily - or unfortunately - it’s Tuesday, and on Tuesday you’re usually home for lunch, but when the doorbell squeaked you didn’t really think it was them. Maybe the postman or a neighbor, but not your parents.

«Surprise!» they both screamed. It was the worst surprise ever. You didn’t know they were coming so you didn’t make lunch for them, didn’t tidy up properly, didn’t hide your things and didn’t lock your door. Plus, you weren’t prepared for another mental breakdown, not so soon after they gave you one just two days ago. And you still aren’t now, listening to them talking while you eat your salad.

«Your mother decided to come visit Ailiseu for a few days and September is already here so we decided not to wait until next month, it’ll be too cold» your father explains, his smile going from ear to ear. You instantly pray for the mental health of your cousin knowing how your parents can be, she’s gonna go out of her mind.

«Exactly! And we’re staying at her place, since she has a big house. Sorry honey, we would’ve asked you but we thought we’d be too much in here.»

«No problem» you try to sound as kind as possible. This is the good side of having a small house, at least.

«How long will you stay?»

«Three days» your father says «but we’re going to Ailiseu for dinner, we’d like to spend today with you»

«Take a day off of work.» your mother points her index finger at you. «We’ll have fun! We could go to the mall and buy some clothes, I really don’t like the shirt you’re wearing»

You stop eating fixing your gaze on your meal and trying to stay calm. This is a nightmare. How are you supposed to not go to work when they saw you were fine this morning? And notify them in half an hour? Your boss is going to go out of his mind and kill you. You won’t even be able to rehearsal today, obviously.

«Mom, I-»

«Please?» your father cuts you off.

You give up. It’s scientifically proven that you can’t beat them at this game without bursting out, that would definitely lead to an argument and you really are not in the mood for it. So you nod and finish your lunch listening to all their stories, your mother complaining about everything: the broken electric hand dryer at the gas station they stopped in, the way your father drives, your shirt - again -, your salad, your house and again your job. All of her words only make you wish to end this day as soon as possible but against your desire, time only seems to slow down while you wait for your her to come out of the bathroom.

You’re ready to go to the mall, you already called your boss and told him you had a setback and couldn’t go back to work this afternoon, and like you predicted before he didn’t sound happy at all, groaning things you couldn’t understand and quickly hanging up. Your mother is been in the bathroom for twenty minutes now making you frown and sink in your couch. When she finally comes out you head to the door in a second.

«Let’s go shopping!»

Your feet are hurting, if they could talk their exact words would be “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” at every step you take. You’ve been in here for almost six hours now, dragged from a shop to another, from a salon to a shoe store and you’re pretty sure that by now you entered all the shops in the mall.

«What’s the time?» your mother finally stops walking at your father’s question, taking a glance at her golden watch.

«It’s almost eight,» she answers raising her eyes to you «we should probably go. Do you mind giving us a ride to Ailiseu’s place?»

You try to fake a small and force yourself to nod despite your tiredness, all you’d like to do now is lay down and sleep. Your brain health is being put to serious danger today, with all your parents endless rumblings and complaints, your mother even tried to buy you a shirt just for you to go change the one you have on in the public restrooms.

You head to your car with big strides and yawning, your parents’ words behind you about how beautiful your cousin’s house is  and how much their parents must be proud of her are making your chest heavy and your head pound.

You hope not to stay stuck in traffic once you get in your car and get out of the parking lot. You only make it to a few blocks before your wishes and hopes totally fade away, the cars blocking the street and the sounds of the honking filling your ears.

«We’re gonna be late, Ailiseu is waiting for us» your father sighs.

«Can’t you take a different road?»

«How am I supposed to take a different road now? There are cars behind me» you huff at your mother’s words.

«Then honk!»

«It’s not gonna change a thing, everyone is doing that!» you claim. Your dad shakes his head.

You wait at least five minutes before you move again, the silence only filled with your mother’s huffs and annoyed muttering. When you think you finally made it and you’re gonna be home soon, a loud thud makes you shudder and not even a second later you’re being pushed against the wheel because of the swing of your car, hitting your forehead against the glass of the windshield.

It takes you a few moments to realize you just got hit and before you know it you’re already putting on your hazards and heading out of your car. How is it even possible to witness to accidents in just a few days? 

You take a look to your parents while they do the same as you and when you see they’re fine you let out a sigh of relief that lasts as quickly as it came out. Your car is devastated at the back and there is no way you can walk home without shedding parts along your way, you only feel grateful that you and your parents are not hurt.

The man in the car behind you approaches you with fast steps and a worried face, tired eyes and shaky voice.

«I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more careful»

You don’t even understand how he managed to make such a mess to your car with the traffic on the streets now, he probably came out from one of the small roads where there weren’t cars and you were the lucky one to welcome him in the jam.

The man leaves you his number telling you to call him once you know how much this is going to cost you and quickly leaves, you end up calling a taxi for your parents and a tow truck for your car, trying to stay as awake as possible. After forty five minutes of waiting you’re so tired that you could lay down and sleep in the middle of the road if it wasn’t for the cars threatening your life, but apparently someone is hearing your prayers and the tow truck comes to rescue you. Your car is brought to the mechanic and you say goodbye to another one hundred bucks for the tow truck. You’re left alone in the middle of the jam, so you move to the sidewalk ready to call a cab. You had the worst day and you’re already thinking of how much you’ll have to work to get all the money you just lost back.

«Y/N?»

You’re being caught off guard when someone calls you while you’re bringing the phone to your ear. When you turn and find Jin smiling at you you quickly hang up.

«Jin, hi»

«What are you doing here?» he looks down at you as if he’s the Eiffel Tower and you’re the grass.

«Uhm, my car broke, I was going to call a taxi»

«If you want I can give you a ride? Can you wait a little bit? Just the time to sing happy birthday to Jungkook and give him the gifts, we’re looking forward to embarrass him» he laughs.

«Oh, it’s Jungkook’s birthday?» Jin nods realizing only now that Kook probably didn’t tell you. «I don’t know... I don’t want to bother, I wasn’t invited and I don’t have a gift and-»

«I think you’re thinking too much» he quickly cuts you off. «I don’t think it will be a problem for Jungkook or the others, he’ll be happy to see you»

You sigh. You could call a taxi and wait for it, spend another fifty bucks and head home. Or you could wait a little bit and spend the time you’d spend waiting on the street with them and maybe have a little bit of fun after this awful day, maybe. If things won’t get awkward again. It’d save you money you could use for the groceries, after all.

«Lead the way» you end up saying thanking him with a warm smile. He nods and soon you’re in the elevator waiting for the doors to open, hoping not to look as awful as you feel right now. You still feel sorry to break into his birthday party without an invitation, a gift or even a little bit of more intimacy between you two, so when the doors open and you hear the laughters coming from one of the apartments you think of getting back outside and call a cab. But it’s too late, one of his friends already holds the door open for Jin, glancing over his shoulder with curious eyes and widening them at you.

«Jimin, this is Y/N» Jin introduces you to his friend gesturing with his hands an impossible language for you to understand, not that it does have meaning, he’s just trying to tell him to contain his expressions.

«Y/N, hi!» his voice is soft and it makes you smile without an apparent reason. You link him to Jungkook’s words yesterday, the third maknae and apparently, the friend he often chooses to ramble on to.

«Jungkook!» he screams over the laughters coming from the other room, eyes still fixated on you.

«Teahyung won’t let me come!» At the sound of how happy is voice sounds, laughing and cracking in the middle you can’t avoid the warmth in your chest.

«Come in» Jimin steps aside and lets you and Jin in the house. «You can give your coat to me»

You thank him and give him your coat before you’re following Jin in the other room where the others are. Their laughters stop in a second when they glance at you, now filling the place just with silence. Jungkook’s heart stops beating for a moment, totally shocked and overwhelmed by your presence, mouth agape and eyes widened. He wasn’t prepared to see you, he totally wasn’t. He stares at blankly as if he just saw a ghost and not even when Taehyung finally sets him free from his hold he’s able to say something. Your cheeks are burning like fire under all their gazes.

«I’m Taehyung» the guy who was holding him smiles at you and takes a few steps before reaching out his hand. «I’m sorry about the awkward meeting»

«Oh, don’t worry» you shrug at the memory.

«Jungkook?» a deep voice seems to wake him up from his trance, Namjoon is telling him to do something with his eyes.

«I’m Namjoon»

Soon enough all of them gather around you and shake your hand welcoming you into the house with bright smiles and kind words. The only girl in the group tells you to call her Kitty and tells you she’s the Namjoon’s girlfriend, she seems pretty nice and you end up talking for at least twenty minutes, all of your tiredness seems to disappear. The only one you still didn’t talk to is Jungkook, and you’re afraid he’s annoyed by your presence. The thought makes your head throb, but you wouldn’t blame him after all. It’s his birthday and sure he’d like to spend it with the people he loves, not with you that he doesn’t know much and weren’t even invited.

«You should go talk to her» Namjoon whispers in Kookie’s ear.

As if he hasn’t thought about it already. Jungkook knows he should talk to you, but as I said before, he really isn’t prepared for this. And seeing you talking with his friends and smiling makes the feeling in his chest even more uncontainable. You’re smiling and you seem at ease with them, sipping from your glass from time to time and laughing at Jin’s jokes. He likes this picture, you in his house, all bright and happy. He could get used to it. And all of this, only makes his anxiety grow until it’s skyrocketing.

«I’m gonna say or act awkward and ruin things again, I’m not-»

«And do you think that staying here won’t? She’s in your house, it’s your birthday and you didn’t even greet her. It surely...» he trails off when you take a few steps towards them. Jungkook bits the petal of his lower lip feeling the usual but still new mixture of emotions rushing through his blood until it reaches his chest and totally takes over him. Namjoon pats at his shoulder and glance at you with a kind smile before standing up from the couch with Hobi and heading to the kitchen. Jungkook stares at you for the millionth time, wishing to say something, anything, but the words are caught in his throat.

«Happy birthday» you stop in front of him, glancing down at the pillows beside him. «Can I?»

 He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth even more before nervously nodding.

«I’m sorry,» you say softly after sitting on the couch «I didn’t want to break in and annoy you, my car broke and Jin offered me a ride home and-»

«You didn’t annoy me, you don’t annoy me. Never- you never annoy me» he blurts out. «You- you can stay as much as you want» his cheeks are heating up, and you don’t even know why but you suddenly smile like a baby, his words make you feel more at ease.

«I don’t have a gift»

«It doesn’t matter» he smiles at you, your heart both stuttering when you lock eyes.

«If I’m being honest, I-» he stops talking, eyes shifting from yours to meet the ground.

«What?»

Jungkook stays silent for a moment, thinking about what he wants to say over and over again, trying not to make it sound as cheesy as it sounds in his head, but the truth is that there aren’t other words to express it.

«I like you here»

«What?»

«I-» he gulps «I like you here, with us?» he wants to slap himself. Why did he even think about telling you something like this?

«You seem happy?»

You squint your eyes at him, something about this conversation is making you more nervous than usual.

«I think I am?» why are you asking him?

Jungkook scoffs at your tone, it comes out so naturally that it makes your heart flutter. «You don’t sound so sure about that» he quotes your words, a bright smile creeping upon your face.

«Everyone is so nice and easy-going, and they made me feel comfortable even though I wasn’t meant to be here» you shrug. «You weren’t joking when you talked about them»

«Actually...» he clears his throat «I though of invating you yesterday but I- I didn’t cause I though it would be weird? I mean-»

«Jungkook, you don’t need to explain me why you didn’t invite me. Don’t justify yourself»

«I’m not» he replies fast enough to make you knit your eyebrows.

«But I’m happy you’re here now» the sound of those words are like sugar to your hypoglycemic heart, hearing them makes you feel something you never experienced, something that you missed since you were a little girl. The simple act of being happy to have someone near you and not expect anything from them is something you never witnessed, neither from your parents, even though they love you under those cold masks they wear. People always seemed to expect something from you, always. Jungkook is not telling those words without meaning them, he’s not expecting a thing from you. Not even a gift.

«Jungkook!» Hobi screams from the kitchen, tone breaking into a laughter and soon joined by others too. Jungkook shuts his eyes for a moment and then smiles before standing up from the couch. With boldness he didn’t think he has, he stretches his hand out for you to grab it, waiting with held breath and unsure dark doe-eyes staring directly into yours.

It’s a matter of seconds before you loose up and reach out to his hand, fingers intertwining with each other’s and a shudder running down your spine.

Jungkook stands still for a moment, his hand is limp against yours, he didn’t really think you’d grab his hand, not in this way. You’re not holding it to help you stand up, you’re intertwining your fingers with him. It’s different. The heat rising in your cheeks makes you feel like a teenager with her first crush and only now you realize that that’s why your heart is pounding and your brain is overthinking more than usual. You’re about to split away since he doesn’t tightens his grip on you, mentally slapping yourself for doing something like this. You’re fingers leave his and Jungkook’s chest feels suddenly more heavy. Reaching out again, he grabs your hand, fingers intertwine with yours and this time in a tight and sicure grip. His hands are a little bit sweaty for the nervousness, but so are yours. Your heart stutters, breath held as if you were free diving.

Both of you stand still for a moment before turning to look at each other, not even the time to say something that Hoseok is calling again from the kitchen.

«Jungkookie!»

«Happy birthday!» the screams fill the apartment, Jungkook’s features are priceless with his eyes squinted and his cheeks flashing red, trying as best as he can not to die under everyone’s affections.

«Blow out the candles!» Jimin shouts «I’m the one who choose the cake!»

The happiness and the intimacy in the room is so overwhelming that you feel out of place for a moment, but Taehyung grabs you by your arm and brings you closer to the group.

«Come here, embarrass him with us» he winks making you laugh. Jungkook shakes his head, he’s still at ease for the happy birthday song but he can’t fight the big bunny smile taking over his face. And when he sees you laughing with Teahyung, it takes him just a second to let go of the uncomfortable feeling in his chest only to be left with the desire of the sweet taste of the cake, and not the one on the wooden table.

Taking a deep breath he blows out the candles, eyes fixated over you making your heart skip a few beats. He doesn’t even think of a wish, all he wants it’s here tonight; the warmth of his friends, the love they feel for each other, maybe the new beginning of something, anything.

The candles die out, leaving the room in the dark for a few seconds before someone finally turns the lights on.

«Time for the presents!» Namjoon screams.

«Oh, please!» Jungkook whines and the laughters of his friends grow even more. Yoongi disappears to bring all the bags with the presents in and everyone except from Jungkook and Hoseok seats on the carpet in front of the couch even though it’s empty, you guess it’s one of their habits.

«I’m gonna cut the cake» Hobi announces turning around to face the table and start his task while Jungkook makes his way through the bodies of his friends, apparently towards you. He stops in front of you, still standing still a little bit out of place.

«You wanna sit on the couch?» he points at the sofa and you end up asking yourself why you didn’t do it sooner. You sit on the cushions, eyes fixated in front of you even when he follows you and sits beside you under everyone’s gaze, his friends staring at him before gazing away.

«Here comes the cake!» Hobi is a ray of sunshine with his bright smile while he distributes the dishes to everyone and soon enough you’re closing your eyes and letting out a whine at the taste of the sponge cake.

«It’s so good» you let out with your mouth full, words almost puzzling. Jungkook bursts out laughing and you need to gulp trying not to choke.

«Ah! See?» Jimin points at Namjoon «I choose it!» he turns to you with bright eyes and a big smile reaching his eyes.

«My taste buds are thanking you» 

Yoongi enters the room with his hands full of bags and places them beside Jungkook.

«Alright, let’s begin» he sits in front of the couch. Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to grab the first bag.

«This is from?»

«Ugh, I forgot to write it again» Hobi murmurs making everyone laugh. Jungkook opens all the gifts, every single one of them makes you know him a little more, a little better, a little deeper. From the sweater of Hoseok to the set of products for his skincare by Jimin, they all tell you something about him. It’s Jin’s turn when he suddenly gets up from the carpet and shakes his head in the jumpiest of ways.

«Wait, wait, wait!» he almost screams. When he realizes what he’s doing he try to fake a smile. «I need to talk to you»

«What?»

«I need to talk to you» he repeats.

«Now?»

«Jungkook ya! Yes, now!» Jin looks at him with eyes widened almost as if he’s trying to communicate with him but Jungkook can’t really understand what is happening, so he just wakes up and follows Jin in another room, not a second later the hyung comes back just to bring his presence for Kookie with him.

«Alright, I’m gonna take another piece of cake» Namjoon says, her girlfriend gets up from the carpet with him to do the same. Taehyung smiles at you from the ground and quickly gets up, sitting next to you. You end up talking for at least ten minutes, conversation as fluid as the water and a comfortable feeling of naturalness you haven’t been feeling for a long time. You think you’d like to hang out with them more, they make you feel good with their positivity.

Jungkook finally comes back in the room after fifteen minutes, gaze and smile that now you can identify as nervous. He sits on the couch beside you grabbing Jin’s present again, digging in the bag until he finds it. Ripping the paper off, the new set of kitchen tools lights up his eyes. Now that the presents are all discarded, Jin looks at you.

«Do you want to go home now?»

Would that be wrong or weird if your answer was no? You glance at Jungkook, his eyes already on you.

«Wait, wait!» he bursts out, now standing up and heading out of the room. Your expression is blank until he comes back, wondering what just happened. Jin seems to smile when he see his friend rushing back with a bag in his left hand.

«Come ou- out, please?» Jungkook asks. You nod still uncertain and you follow him to the balcony, he makes sure to close the door behind you so that nobody can hear you.

Silence fills the air just for a little bit, the only sound that can be heard is the night, so peaceful and quiet, the light whistle of the wind. Jungkook is again repeating to himself that he can talk without embarrassing himself or making you feel awkward, he did it until now, kinda. He clears his throat and raises his gaze, hand scratching his neck. This can’t go worst than the first times you met, after all. It’s a simple action.

«I-» he stops without even starting.

«Am I making you nervous again?»

His expression changes, eyes widening and mouth hanging agape as he starts to shake his head.

«No, I- I mean...» he trails off and you don’t know why, but you feel the need to reassure him. So you smile at him, one of those warm smiles that makes his heart stutter and wonder if he’ll ever get to see another one, if this one doesn’t kill him. He gathers all his strength to talk through the smile that wants to take over his features.

«I’ve got your dress» he lifts his hand.

«What?»

«I’ve- I’ve got your dress. This is your dress, the dress you wanted» his cheeks are burning.

«It-it’s not my dress, it’s yours»

«I-» his eyes widen at the thought of the explanation he has to give you, so many words he wants to groan.

«I saw you liked the dress and-»

«You saw I liked the dress?»

«Yes, I mean- I was in the shop when you came in.» he claims. «I saw you looking at the dress and I thought you’d like it as an apology gift? So I- I was trying to understand the size you were looking for and praying that there was on- only one or that you’d let me buy it for you.» he quickly blurts out.

«There was, but you had already found it and I- I should’ve just walk away but I didn’t and-» he stops again.

«You know the end»

He had already told you what happened but you really didn’t think it was this, with the little details it sounds totally different. The silence makes his way again and Jungkook feels like he’s about to explode for the way his cheeks are heating up, so he’s quick to place the bag in your hands.

«I- I wanted to give it to you and I took it at the rehearsals. Jin- he mistook it for a towel and- this- this is a new one don’t worry. I tried to search for it online but apparently they only sell it in his store and Jin found it today and-»

«Thank you» you cut him off, your warm smile reaching your eyes and now setting on fire his. He’s sure he’s gonna burn by the end of this.

Opening the bag and raising your hands to look at the cloth you realize that you couldn’t care less now. It’s beautiful, but it’s just a piece of cloth. It’s the action behind it that you find more beautiful, even though you would’ve never think about it this way just a few days ago. Jungkook searched for it online, and he grabbed it from you because he wanted to buy it for you. Well, maybe he should learn how to contain himself, but it doesn’t matter. He never wanted to tease you or make you feel uncomfortable, it’s just a consequence of him being around you. And that’s exactly why he acted like that.

«I’m sorry»

«We need to stop to say that» you scoff. «I don’t care anymore, not now that I know what happened»

«So- you- you’re not mad at me?» 

«Why should I be?» you frown at him «Jungkook, I’m not. Honestly, I-» you stop talking to glance at him. And the only thing you can feel is your heartbeat raising until it’s skyrocketing, you can feel it in your ears. An insolite warmth, a weird sense of happiness you never got to really feel. And something inside you is telling you to fucking let go of your armor, break it apart and take a risk for once, just one and just now. Damn, how much you would like to know what’s the taste of his lips, of him. If only you were more bold.

«Trust me, I’m not mad at you» you almost whisper, so low you’re not even sure he heard it.

Jungkook shifts his gaze from you to the dress in your hands, and before he can stop himself the words are already leaving his mouth. 

«Do- do you want to wear it?» he wants to slap his face again.

«Now?»

«You’re right, do- don’t. I mean, if you want to wear it I-»

«Jungkook, stop talking»

You look into his dark doe-eyes fighting the urge to drown in them, but it’s just a matter of understanding it, you already are breathless and desperately swimming to get to the surface.

«I don’t think it’s the right dress code for tonight and Jin is probably waiting for me»

«I- I can give you a ride if you want? I mean, you can stay more, you know that?»

«I wouldn’t like to both-»

«You don’t.» he states, eyes never leaving yours.

«Please, stay? Just a little more. Or let me take you home?» he’s almost imploring for a little bit more of your presence, but he doesn’t care anymore, not now. There’s something inside him that doesn’t want to do anything else than let you know the effect you have on him, what a strong power.

«Alright» you breath out. «I’ll stay, but tomorrow I have to wake up at six, I’ll probably have to go in a little bit»

Jungkook nods and feels the guilt sneaking in at the same time.

«Oh, I didn’t know it. You- you can go»

«Jungkook, I’ll stay for a little bit more. Don’t worry.» you lightly scoff, his worrying for you causes a weird feeling in your chest. «I’d be happy to eat another piece of cake.» you smile.

«Plus, I like being with you» 

Jungkook feels his chest warming, the thought of him making you feel good almost sends him dizzy. He knows that he can’t answer you now, he’d just say or blubber something without any sense, so he just smiles. One of those smiles that you really don’t know what they do to you, but you can feel it.

You end up talking for another five minutes before he goes in to bring a piece of cake to share and to tell Jin he doesn’t have to leave now to take you home, you didn’t tell him if he can give you a ride, but Jin usually leaves pretty late, so it’s not a problem for him.

When he comes back again he’s sure he has never seen someone as beautiful as you. The way the light of the moon lights up your features and the shadows of the night make them look even more charming, the way the light breeze makes you hair swing.

Jungkook sits beside the table and you do the same, body facing the city lights that make you feel a little more small.

«Here» he gives you a spoon. You eat the cake, air filled with light laughters from time to time and light conversation. His presence really seems to make you feel good, lightweight. Like you haven’t felt in months. The end of the time you gave yourself quickly arrives and you end up standing up and ask him for the bathroom before you go home.

The tiredness is taking over you again, but you’re not regretting staying more, not even a little bit. Placing your phone and your purse on the washbasin you start to think of how fast things can change in just the slightest amount of time. Just a couple of days ago you thought he was trying to make fun of you with his friends, and now you’re enjoying their presence and wishing the night would last just a couple of house more, so that you could go to sleep later. But it’s not possible, so you quickly grab your purse and rush back where Jin is waiting for you. You told him before you would be leaving with him, even thought the thought of Jungkook giving you a ride home was screaming to come out, you don’t want to ruin the party by bringing away the birthday boy. Saying goodbye to everyone is like a promise of seeing each other again and you end up sharing your numbers with Namjoon’s girlfriend and with Teahyung, telling each other you’d like to hang out together.

When it’s Jungkook’s turn he hands you your bag with your dress in it knowing you left it on the balcony to go to the bathroom.

«I’ll see you tomorrow?» he asks with a low tone as if it’s a secret.

Thinking about what happened today with your car, you’re not quite sure if you’ll make it to the rehearsals tomorrow, you have to work until midday and if your boss lets you, you’d like to work overtime to save more money, you already spent a bunch of them for the tow truck and you still have to fix your car. You’re just glad your mechanic is a friend of yours and will probably give you a discount.

«I’m not sure I’ll make it, I’ll probably work overtime» you grimace. Jungkook‘s features fall a little bit but he’s quick not to show you and nods. You’re about to tiptoe and leave two pecks on his cheeks like you did with everyone when his hand reaches yours and your heart do cartwheels. Your fingers intertwine for the second time tonight and you can feel your cheeks heating up with his.

Jungkook keeps telling himself to not make you feel uncomfortable, this is a bad idea, but he really doesn’t understand you feel everything but uncomfortable right now. The warmth of his body is so close to yours that you’d like to crush in his arms without any hesitation. Looking up at him, he stares at your face, marveled by the way you make him feel before quickly tilting his head. The action is so fast you don’t have time to understand what’s happening, and in a second his lips are pressed against your forehead, gente and dangerously soft that you’d die to feel them on yours.

Without even realizing it your arm wraps around his back and he feels himself stiffening at the contact, he wasn’t expecting it, and neither his cock, now throbbing in his jeans and remembering him that its better if he lets you go. So he does so, trying to smile as best as he can and ignore the reddish of his cheeks. Thanks to God no one is watching you, or he’d be dead by now.

«Good night, Jungkook. And happy birthday.»

And so you smile at him and turn around to head to the door with Jin.

What a birthday.

It’s only the next day you realize you don’t have your phone. You want to yell at yourself for adding another piece to the puzzle of your stress. You did nothing but run like crazy for the whole morning at work and you thought that at least you could relax during your lunch break but apparently, it’s not possible. You have two free hours and you don’t have any idea about what you’re going to eat for lunch, but you repeat to yourself it doesn’t matter. You’re just praying you told the right address to the cab driver and hoping that he is home. You’re going to Jungkook’s, and the thought alone makes a fluttering sensation rush through your chest, and now you’re even more nervous. You usually wouldn’t break in people’s house like this but it’s the only way, you really need your phone today considering your car is at the mechanic’s and your parents are in the same city as you. You can’t wait until tomorrow and hope he’ll bring it to the studio, this is the only way.

When you find yourself opening the car door and taking a glance to the building in front of you it’s safe to say you feel relieved. At least the address is the right one. Your steps are smooth and you make it to the entrance door without any problem, but when you search for his name on the intercoms you suddenly feel stuck in place, your heart beating faster than usual. Repeating to yourself you need your phone, you press the button and wait for him to answer. A few seconds pass by and you’re already losing hope when finally a bzz signals that the entrance door is just being open. You expected him to ask you who you were but he simply quitted so you stare at the name on the button wondering if you should press it again. Your fingers move faster than your thoughts and a second later you’re waiting for him to answer to tell it’s you, but Jungkook seems to have a different idea and again, he just re opens the entrance door. Sighing gently and giving up, you enter the apartments and get in the elevator.

The thought of being here again is making your chest warm, so warm it feels like a summer day. Last night since the moment your head touched your pillow you thought about him shamelessly, trying to understand the way he made you feel and to categorize it in some kind of way. You found no answer, you don’t even understand yourself when you’re with him. Yesterday has been one of the worst days ever but it took him nothing to make it better for you, even with his stuttering and nervousness, he was able to make you feel... mattered? Since the moment you met him for the first time Jungkook screwed up almost every time you talked, but he always found a way of making it up, maybe with a little bit of unease and already on his way to screw up one more time, but he did. And just the simple fact he cares enough to try even though he knows you so little makes you smile and worry at the same time. You’re not used to all this attention, you’re usually the one who’s always trying to hard, at his place.

The doors open and and you have to go out to let the person in front of you get in the elevator, so you end up staring at his door.

«I’m going now!» a yell comes from inside, you don’t have time to understand whose voice it is or what it’s happening that Jimin is already standing in front of you with his eyebrow raised and a smile forming on his lips.

«Hi, Y/N»

«Jimin, stop teasing me!» Jungkook screams from inside. Jimin widens his eyes and then his lips in a shocked expression as you smile at him.

«Hi, Jimin»

Just the sound of your voice and the maknae is losing it all, rushing to the door to see if his mind played a trick on him. Apparently it didn’t, since you’re staring at him with your mouth open and your breath stuck in your throat, and Jimin has pretty much the same expression.

Why are you... Oh-

«Fuck, I’m sorry» his cheeks heat up and Jimin shuts his eyes as Jungkook realizes he’s not wearing his shirt, fast enough to run to his bedroom that he could challenge the wind. His friend shakes his head.

«I should go, see you» he holds the door open for you to enter and then goes out with a warm smile. The second he shuts it you’re left in a house that now seems ten times bigger than yesterday night, maybe for the lack of people, maybe for the silence. Or maybe because you feel so little in this moment you wouldn’t be surprised if someone stepped on you.

«I’m sorry to break in your apartment like this» you speak out loud, not sure if he hears you. Jungkook bites his lips.

«I forgot my phone and-»

«Here» he shows up from the corner of the short hallway, your phone in his hand.

«Thank you» you grab it and put it in your purse.

«I charged it for you yesterday night»

«Oh, really?» he nods. You smile as another thank you and Jungkook opens his mouth to speak when a low grr fills the air and this time it’s you the one with your cheeks reddening.

«Are- are you hungry?» What a stupid question, of course you are. «I made some pasta if you want it»

«I should be back to work in an hour and a half and I’m not sure I have the time to eat, I have to wait for a cab too»

«I- I can take you? If you want?» he licks his lips. «It’d save you time and the pasta is ready»

He’s right, and your stomach is dying to be filled.

«Alright» you nod and he smiles triumphant, the way his eyes seem to smile at your words makes you wonder.

«Why are you so kind to me?»

Jungkook’s smile turns into a slight pout that makes you want to peck his lips as he raises his eyebrows.

«What do you mean?»

You struggle to find the right words. «I- You... you always try to help me or worry about me, even for little things like when we went to the cafe and you kept on asking me if I wanted to switch drinks. When things become awkward it’s because you try to make a good impression and fail, but you’re always trying.» the tone you’re using makes Jungkook grimace. He can tell you’re not used to this from the way you’re shifting your weight from foot to foot as you speak.

How can he explain it to you? How can he tell you he’s so head over heels for you he can’t even think of stop trying? Jungkook bites the petal of his lips furiously as his mind tries to find the right answer, but there is not and he lets out a strangled groan as he realizes it.

« I... I- I really like you» 

Your expression is blank, totally. His words almost seem not to touch you as he studies every part of your face for a reaction.

«You’re not used to this, ri- right?» he scratches the back of his neck.

«I’m really not» you breath out. Jungkook knits his brows together.

«Do you- you want me stop it?»

«I-» you shake your head «I don’t think so? I’m really not used to it, Jungkook. It may sound incredibly stupid but I never had someone who asked me if I wanted to switch drinks just because he wanted me to taste the best one and not to actually steal it from me.»

«Well, now you have me» his words are firm, so incredibly firm it makes you clench your jaw, and his eyes are the same.

«I- I charged your phone because I was worried you would need it today and couldn’t use it. I’m offering you a ride because I like spending time with you, I don’t want something in return other than you, your time.» his voice his calm and his shoulders seem to loose with every word he says as if he’s letting go of a heavy weight.

It’s all striking you in a second, and the hit is so hard you end up holding your breath. It’s not really the fact he likes you that makes you this stunned, it’s the fact he actually cares. Your parents never showed their affection to you without expecting you to give them something back, wether it was a high grade or a good impression on your neighbors, and when you stopped trying to always give back something their affections towards you had simply stopped, replaced by fake “honey” and other nice words just to cover the fact they didn’t really believe in you enough to show it. And with your friends and coworkers is pretty much the same, always waiting for something in return.

The sudden realization makes your eyes tingle and you vision blurry.

«I’m sorry»

Jungkoook shakes his head and gets closer, the thought that no one ever cared enough to show you how much you matter or acted just for the simple intent of doing something for you and not actually for them wrecks him apart. His mind flies back to when Seokjin told him about your parents and how they acted or spoke to you, he can clearly see the weight of every single word of them in your shiny eyes now, hurting you and making you question his good actions just because you’re used to the most selfish ones. It makes him want to bury you with attention, show you that people can do something for others too and not just to feed their egoistic side.

«Come here» it’s as low as a whisper, but you don’t hesitate a second to let his arms wrap around you, hiding your face on his shirt and soaking it with the tears that are now streaming down your face. His grip is tight and you can hear the stuttering of his heart against your ear, one of his hands gets to your hair and starts to softly, sweetly stroking at them to make you calm down just a little bit, head tilted over yours. His heart is aching seeing you like this.

«I’m sorry»

«Shh, stop saying that. We apologize too much» he holds you even tighter as you fist his shirt in your hands. Jungkook leaves a soft kiss in your hair and your heart skips a beat at the intimacy of the action. It’s only then that you realize you’re really letting someone see this side of you, the one you always try to hide because it’s to fragile to break, the one you hide even from yourself.

Slightly tilting your head upwards to lock eyes with him, Jungkook tries as best as he can to smile at you, even though his chest is has heavy as yours. His hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs caress your skin and wipe your tears away.

«Jungkook»

«Yes?»

«Please, kiss me»

His lips crush onto yours, Jungkook groans at the feeling and you instantly bring one of your hand in his locks as he tastes the salty taste left by the tears. As you lightly bite the petal of his lower lips Jungkook feels like he’s dreaming, and he prays not to wake up. His tongue slides in your mouth, wet and warm against yours, tracing and exploring each other and making you slightly tug at his locks, he moans in your mouth and brings one of his hands to your waist, bringing you closer to his body. The kiss is passionate, so damn needy, but not only in a sexual way. You need love, affection. Jungkook is more than welcome to help you with that, letting you waste all of your insecurities and frustrations on him until you feel completely dried, left with nothing but the realization of his taste on your lips, his hands against your skin, his embrace around you, him. And you need to push away to take it in, letting his forehead hover over yours and his heavy breath crush down on your face. His eyes are looking into yours and they make you feel things you now are able to categorize as humanly impossible, so dark and deep but so bright at the same time, lips still brushing against yours as you both take deep breaths. The frustration in your body is gone, your tears are dried, the only thing left is the need you feel to have him again on you, the desperate desire to taste him again. His mind prepares to the thought of a possible rejection, the idea you begged for him to kiss you just to drift your thoughts away storms his mind but he repeats to himself that whatever thing will come, this was definitely worth it. He’ll just have to face the fact that he just got only one bite of the cake. How can he even believe in it? Your lips are addicting, and he’s already craving for more.

«I could get used to this» you whisper. Jungkook never felt so relieved in all his life than now, letting out a shaky breath heavier than the others.

«Please, do it» he whines making you giggle and bring your lips on his again. This kiss is different from the other, more slow, more sweet, more intimate in a different way cause it’s just about you two. There aren’t emotions to run away from and to waste on the other, the only emotions are the ones you feel for each other. His lips move cautiously on yours as if he wants to taste every single part of you and imprint in his mind, your hand leaves his hair just to reach his neck and then his cheek, resting on his jaw. When you move away he rests his forehead again on yours and tilts down just to leave a few more sweet pecks on your lips, totally addicted to your taste. As you look at him you think this man we’ll send you out of your mind, if he didn’t already.

«Could you get used to me caring about you too?» he breathes. Your smile is bittersweet.

«It might take me a little bit» you answer. Jungkook strokes your cheek with his thumb, showing his bunny smile and making your chest a warmer and happier place.

«Then we’ll practice together, uh?»

«I’d like that»

[tokrev-roses]

Cool Cool Boy

although you are happy with your love, your ex-boyfriend wants to be a part of your life again. jealous boyfriends and phones involved + NSFW (original request)

🖋Genre: Smut (Mikey, Draken Chifuyu), Fluff (Baji)

⚠️Warnings: 18+ for everyone but Baji, description of the female body and sexual acts, bad writing/grammar/spelling

👥Characters: Mikey, Draken, Chifuyu, Baji

❧ Keisuke Baji

Fancy dates are not his thing

It was not only that he had a budget, being a middle schooler and everything, he also simply didn’t vibe with it

But it was your anniversary, so he saved up all his pocket money and tried to behave so mama Baji would let him out

Cue to him waiting in front of a popular restaurant for young couples, wearing his edgy street clothes

And to both of your surprise, everything went smoothly

He excused himself to the restroom for a sec, and while you were waiting at your table, daydreaming about the beauty of this evening, someone sat down on Keisuke’s chair

You turned towards the person, fully expecting to see your boyfriend, but were met with a less than pleasant view. Your ex-boyfriend greeted you with a satisfied smirk.

“Enjoying yourself, y/n? You know, I always thought you were one of those girls who loved fancy stuff, considering how much you loved our dates and my presents. That you’d settle for someone who is unable to offer you more than this…” He made a derogatory gesture towards the other tables.

This was no high-end restaurant with view over the Tokyo skyline, but it was Baji who put a lot of effort into this, and it meant more to you than anything else

As you were about to respond, a shadow towered over your ex

“What do you think you are doing her punk?”

“This is the trash you left me for, y/n?”

As he was about to laugh, Baji seized him by the collar, lifted him up, and threw him away like actual trash

Knowing Keisuke, you tried to stop the enraged berserker he was about to turn into. No need for a brawl in the middle of a restaurant

You managed to calm him, nonetheless the manager kindly asked all three of you to leave

Keisuke kept quiet on your way home. You knew why. He actually wanted everything to be perfect, to show you how much you meant to him and it was ruined by his temper and a slimy asshole

„♪Kei-Su-Ke♪“, you poked the dimples of your grumpy boyfriend. “I loved this evening. Minus that idiot, but that was none of your fault.”

“Hm.”

He kept walking.

Ok, you’d have to bring the big guns in

With two big steps you were behind him to give him the strongest back hug possible

“Ya, you punk. Wanna pick a fight?”, your effort to imitate his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“As if a small fry like you could win against me.”

With that you knew the ice was broken. What you didn’t expect was him turning around fast as lightening, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

You tried to scream but it ended in heartful laughter

A perfect anniversary indeed.

❧ Manjiro Sano

(Future!Mikey, Dark-Haired)

King of jealousy and most possessive out of all the boys, so you can imagine his reaction as you told him your ex-boyfriend visited you at work

The mood instantly shifted

“Come on, Manjiro. He didn’t ask me to marry him or anything.”

This joke was not appreciated by him, and he stayed broody for the rest of the evening

You should have known that he was up to something as he suddenly became very touchy with you, but you pinned it on his neediness

Things got even stranger when he didn’t let you touch or pleasure him, but instead kept making you feel like wax between his fingers

It wasn’t just the way he abused your neck with longing kisses or how he caressed the sides of your body with featherlight touches as he made his way downwards. Not the way he fondled your breasts with the utmost care, kissing and sucking your nipples until you couldn’t keep your whimpers from spilling.

The satisfied smile he gave you as you made the first sound should have shown you that there was more to it, but you were so lost in pleasure, that you really didn’t care

Things got worse (or better) for you as he reached your most intimate spot

If he was skilled at pleasuring you before, he was a god at doing so today.

White pleasure blinded you as his velvet tongue explored every part of you. Every moan and whimper you gave him was met with a pleased hum that vibrated through your body.

When you couldn’t stop your own need from feeling every part of him on you, you used your hands in his dark hair to push him closer to you.

Instead of understanding your silent plea like he usually would, he just kept going and going until your vision got blurred by tears and your voice was hoarse.

Only then he let you go, mumbling something you were too tired to understand.

You slept well that night, with Mikey hugging you loke a koala

It was only when you looked at your phone the next morning, that you realized what he had done.

A chat with your ex-boyfriend, who must have written you last evening about going out for dinner, cough your eye. Your answer, which you definitely didn’t send, consisted of a 30 second audio.

Innocent you played it, of course, and it took you a second to realize what exactly you were hearing.

That was you. You, moaning in ecstasy. You were frozen in place an listened all the way through it

The audio ended with a raspy voice you knew all too well

“She is busy with me.”

❧ Ken Ryuguji

Your phone was broken.

It did not show you, who tried to call you and called people you never meant to call. That’s why instead of putting it in your pockets, it usually laid somewhere beside you. Like today as you were cooking dinner for your finance who was about to come home from his bike shop very soon

The last days had been a bit stressful, he had a lot to do, couldn’t spend any time with you and you went to meet your ex-boyfriend for coffee, as he himself was about to get married soon

Ken tried to be understanding, but the amount of your time this past fling consumed annoyed him

That’s why he wanted to make up for lost time this evening

He didn’t hesitate when he saw you standing in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan and looking so perfect

On swift move and the giant had placed you on the counter, standing between your spread legs, face buried in your neck

“Well, someone seems eager.”

He wasn’t willing to waste time with your teasing but begun to assault your lips

Heavy breathing filled the room as he cupped your chin with one hand and tried to get rid of your clothes with the other

Your bodies soon met with a pleasurable sensation, moving in synch.

You held on to him like your life depended on it, ankles hooked behind his back

He wasn’t one to moan, but his heavy breathing had something so unexplainable erotic to it, that it made up for the missing foreplay

One couldn’t be without the other and if it wouldn’t have been for the laws of nature, you would have said that your brains your hearts and your pleasure became one

Sweat made the counter slippery, and your voice became raspy as you finally reached your high together

“Well, hello there.” You could literally hear the smirk on his lips as he said this.

“…hello?”

You thought you were hallucination from your post-orgasmic bliss as you heard another voice talking to the both of you. But Ken’s shocked face as he looked towards your phone woke you up

It couldn’t be that your phone called your ex-boyfriend, right?

Right??  

❧ Chifuyu Matsuno

It’s not like Chifuyu needs your attention all the time, but he kinda needs it when he wants it you know?

And today he really needed it

He had given the shop into the hands of his partner, Kazutora, to spend some time with you, as a surprise

The thing with surprises was, that they usually came at the worst times

His mood went downwards as he came home and instead of giving him a confused hug, asking him why he was home already, you were on the phone with god knows whom

He thought you’d end the call soon, so he gave you some space, but as you kept laughing 30 minutes after he arrived, he got annoyed, to say the least.

He didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation, but your constant laughter, bickering and smiling made him…curious

It seemed like your former high school sweetheart had called to “remember the good old times”, and although it wasn’t like him at all, he slowly but surely felt anger bubbling inside of him.

You had settled for the couch, and although the other party was on the phone, he felt the need to touch you, so he laid down between your legs, head resting on your stomach

You, of course, noticed the sour mood hanging in the air (not just because he followed you around like a lost puppy while you were phoning this old friend of yours)

So you petted his hair, knowing it would calm him

But the time for appeasement was over, at least for Chifuyu. He knew that you knew that he wanted you to hang up, yet you didn’t

It started as an innocent kiss on your stomach, which you answered with a silent chuckle, shaking your hand to signal him to stop

That he ignored it would be an understatement

Something you realised as he started caressing your intimate part through your clothes

As your friend on the other side was continuing to tell you about his life, your attention was captured by the innocent puppy-dog eyes your boyfriend gave you as he got rid of the annoying layers keeping him from feeling you

He began giving you kitten licks, that literally took your breath away. Good for you, the other man didn’t notice

Chifuyu, that devil, knew what he was doing, keeping eye contact with you while doing the most sinful things to you

It got worse as he took your pearl between his soft lips and started sucking

You had to press your fist on your mouth to keep any sound from spilling

He continued his assault with a steady pace, and you wanted him to stop as much as you wanted him to continue

“Y/n, are you still there?”

You hadn’t noticed that the excited voice on the phone had stopped

Faster than you could react, Chifuyu had snatched your phone away from you.

His breath tickled your now wet parts as he answered

“Something came up just now, and she needs to come. Try again, pal.”

[buckyownsmylife]

I’ve Told You Now - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where alpha!Bucky fucks you in front of the other avengers

Warnings: smut, a/b/o dynamics, public sex, oral (f), p in v, possessiveness

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you to my lovely @wakingbeauty​ for giving this a read for me! This is strictly the product of mine and @navybrat817​‘s belief that public sex should be more common in A/B/O dynamics, so there you have it 😊 Also, I used a prompt the sweet @jbreenr​ gave me ages ago for a headcanon and I asked to save it for this story since it made such perfect sense! Hope you guys like it! I might write more public sex A/B/O smut in the very near future!

Bucky’s P.O.V.

Everyday was the same. I’d wake up and join the rest of the team for breakfast to find out that despite the fact that someone had saved me a seat, that same someone had thought of a new joke to make at my expense.

If I thought Tony’s nicknames were bad, this was a whole new level. It’s like she wanted to find all the little ways to annoy me, while still remaining mindful of my recovery process and triggers.

I’d never met an omega like that before. Back in my time, omegas were mostly prim and proper, almost shy around alphas, even if they were starting to show a little more skin and entertain the possibility of staying closer to us for longer periods of time.

I wasn’t used to someone who felt so comfortable with my intimidating aura, and the alpha in me definitely couldn’t grow used to seeing so much of her skin all the time. By now, I was sure she was doing it on purpose.

She knew how it affected me, she could smell it - every omega was able to identify when a nearby alpha was aroused. And I knew it turned her on in return. I was also biologically wired to sense that.

It was basically a game of who would break first. And I knew she thought she would win, but my resolve still wasn’t broken.

“Ah… What a lovely day. So full of possibilities… if you’re not a hundred years old,” she quickly added, throwing me a glance that had me rolling my eyes. “What do you say, grandpa? Feel like going out for a run?”

Who knows what I would have answered if she hadn’t decided to pull her hair up right at the second Wanda opened the window to look out into the field? The smile that had been on my face quickly dropped when I was hit with a heavy wave of her scent and my knees buckled as I tried to hold myself back from just jumping on top of her.

Unfortunately, because awareness was not something she seemed capable of having, she did not realize my struggle. “What’s wrong, old man? Can’t even keep up anymore?” The growl that escaped my chest at her joke was all the warning she needed to finally understand what was going on.

“I’ll show you what I can keep up.” I was on her in a second, my consciousness of our surroundings reduced to absolutely nothing. It was only her and me, and the way our lips moved as I guided her back to the couch, until we both fell on top of it.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” I asked as I tore her shirt with a simple flick of my wrist. “Is this how you wanted it to happen? For me to lose all control and just take you right here?” All that left her was a garbled sound, her hands clawing at my back as I easily got rid of her jeans until they were nothing but scraps on the floor and then exposed her pussy to the tower’s living room.

“Fuck yes,” I growled, immediately leaning down to get a taste of her. Sweet and wet and mine, all mine. I had no idea where that possessive instinct had come from, but I would be crazy to ignore it - especially since it felt like I’d kill and die for her at that very second.

Her hips jerked up, instinctively searching for my tongue, but a breeze of clarity seemed to brush over her and make her sit up on her elbows, looking down at me. I knew what was running through her mind before she said it, and I wasn’t having any of it.

“You better lay back down and let me savor my meal,” I warned, knowing the rest of the team had gathered around to watch the show. I didn’t have to take my eyes off her debauched state to know it, but her gaze was on them, even if the rest of her body was still spread open for anyone to see, uncaring of the fact that we were being watched.

“You poked the beast, now you’ll entertain it,” Steve warned, shaking his head as if to scold us, but when I met his eyes, I could see the glint of desire in them. He wanted to be in my position, he wanted to have his own tongue shoved deep inside my girl’s pussy, and it only made me eat her more hungrily.

“Eyes on me, ‘mega,” I called out to her once I saw her eyes linger on Steve. “Let them watch, that’ll keep them away from you.” She groaned at the possessiveness in my words, but it was the sounds of someone who was relishing in it. And I was relishing in her juices.

“Fuck!” She cursed when I buried my tongue as far as it could go in her, something deep inside of me desperate to be drowning in her scent. “Should have gotten you mad before.”

The thought was amusing to me. Did she really think this was only the result of pent-up anger, and not months of desire and lust that had finally spilled from my weakened resolve?

“Well…” I started, pushing two fingers inside of her to scissor her open for me, although my scent had already made her body as prepared for an Alpha an Omega could get.

I was a bit larger than usual Alphas, though - courtesy of the serum - so I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t go through any pain whatsoever. “You keep me mad all the fucking time, kitten.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“With desire or anger, it doesn’t really care,” he continued, like it was any ordinary day and we were chatting in the living room, our usual teasing banter taking over the conversation, instead of him eating me out on the couch in front of all of our teammates while I was spread out for their eyes to take in.

“You’re always a tease to me, in one way or another.” His huge hands massaged the inside of my thighs as he finally lowered himself to suck on my nub again, making me instinctively buck my hips up in search of his tongue.

“Stay…” he ordered in his Alpha tone, and the whine that broke free from my chest was more animal than human now. The way he used his mouth was nothing short of sinful, licking me from ass to clit with an eagerness I had never expected the former Winter Soldier to have.

But I guess today I was discovering all of my fantasies about Bucky had been a bit misplaced. For one, I never thought he’d be the type of Alpha to take me in such a public environment.

In every dirty dream I’d had, Bucky was far too possessive to allow anyone to explore what was his - even if it was only visually - but what I’d come to learn was that while he was definitely dominating, there was a hint of exhibitionism in his craving.

He liked to have people see him break me into a million pieces only to glue me back together with a lick of his tongue. He liked that they were seeing his talent - and I had to admit, by what I saw in his friend’s stare, that they were also admiring me too.

And he got off on that. I didn’t expect it would make me get off too.

“Delicious,” he hummed when he finally pulled away from my cunt, having brought me to my release and licked it off of me. Still, an overwhelming amount of wetness covered the lower part of his face, prompting me to raise myself to my elbows and lick my own juices off of his lips, the omega in me begging to scent him as mine.

“You’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t you?” He chuckled once the surprise faded away, easily manhandling me onto my stomach, the sound of a zipper being opened denouncing that he had undressed.

“Keep fucking me and you’ll find out.” I heard him spitting behind me, a shiver running up my spine as I realized he was playing with himself while looking at me presenting for him.

“Oh, I’ll do much better than that.” That was all the warning I got before I felt the head of his member poking my entrance, slowly but surely sliding in until he had bottomed out.

My whines became intensified when he pulled me up by my hair, his free hand covering my breast to rub my nipple as he whispered, “I’m gonna claim you, sweetheart. You think you’re ready for that? Think you’ll be able to take it?”

I was quickly realizing I had severely underestimated the man inside of me, even if not to the extent he thought I had. I was not ready for that. I don’t think I ever would be, but fuck if I wasn’t gonna take it anyway.

Because it was so much better than I ever imagined it to be.

“No more playing hard-to-get,” Bucky continued, finally starting to move and immediately settling on a punishing pace. “No more teasing me with your short skirts and tempting scent. You’ll be mine now, ‘mega. Forever. How does that sound?”

God, I wanted him to do it. I wanted him to keep exercising this complete control over my body that he had so easily managed to take. His cock was stretching me in ways I’d never been stretched before, his inflated knot slamming against my opening with each thrust.

“Always mocking me… Am I too old for you now?” I shivered as he licked a stripe up my neck. I knew he wouldn’t actually bite me in front of everyone - a claiming ritual was a sacred ritual, even the most feral of Alphas respected the intimacy of that. But the way he was taunting me was all too arousing, I couldn’t deny it. “Tell me.”

His hand squeezed my hip, looking for an answer. I tried to open my mouth, but nothing came out. His palm slipped further down, finding my clit, and as two fingers rubbed my own juices, around it, I screamed.

“N-No!” Bucky chuckled against my neck, body continuing his onslaught against mine as he nuzzled my scent gland. “Y-you’re not too old for me. Take me, take me please.” His coos were too provoking, making me cry out loud at the mocking sound.

“Aw, kitten…” His warm mouth breathed the next words against my ear, “I already did.” He turned my face towards his with his fingers tangled in my hair, engulfing my mouth with his.

“Alright.” A familiar voice spoke from not too far, startling me for a second as I once again was reminded that we were still very much surrounded by our team. “You two might just be the sexiest mates I’ve ever seen fuck.”

A growl escaped Bucky’s chest at hearing someone refer to us as mates for the first time, and I panted in need, desperate to cum, desperate for him. “Seen a lot of mates fuck, Romanoff?” He nibbled at my ear, hands roaming over my body as if to make it very clear to every person watching that they could look all they wanted, I was still his.

“You have no idea.” Looking over a bit to the side from where she was seated, there rested Sam’s almost limp body, a hand curled over his boner as his eyes never wavered from the place I was connected to the man behind me.

“Well, I know what I’m gonna think about tonight.” Something between a laugh and a moan escaped me, making Bucky growl again, hands pushing me back down onto the couch as his hips picked up the pace with which they’d ruin me.

To say I was soaked was the understatement of the century. I could feel it, running down my thighs, drenching the couch underneath me. I don’t know how we’d be able to use it again, but that was the least of my concerns in the moment.

“I am begging you to let me lick her pussy after you guys are done,” came Tony’s voice, and I knew Bucky would growl in his direction just from the way his fingers pressed tightly on the flesh of my hips. “Not that type of Alpha, sorry, I got it.”

I heard his footsteps retreating quickly, probably scared of what Bucky would do to him once we were done, but in the Alpha’s defense, Tony seemed to disappear from his mind the second he left the room, all of his senses directed to me and his goal of making me cum around his cock.

“C’mon, kitten,” he whispered, fingers easily locating my clit to play with me as he pulled me up to rest against his chest one more. “Come for me, milk me dry.” That was all I needed to give him what he wanted, and although I was anticipating to moan loudly as I creamed his knot, his mouth covered mine to swallow all of my sounds in a deep kiss, hands protectively covering me while pawing at my breasts at the same time.

“Steve,” Bucky called after he managed to catch his breath, having fallen on top of me on the couch once his knot popped open. “I won’t be able to work out with you today.”

I looked up as best as I could to find Steve already staring at us, although red from head to toe. “That’s understandable,” he spoke in a thick, rough voice that I barely recognized as his. “You seem to have worked out enough already.”

Bucky stopped running his nose against my cheek at his friend’s attempt at teasing, a slow smirk taking over his face as he joined me and stared at his friend. “Oh, I’m not nearly done,” he warned. “You’re more than welcome to join us for some cardio, if you want to.”

The soft smile Steve sent our way told us everything we needed to know about his plans for the evening.

[purplekiwis]

Random subrry blurb (just because I'm a whore)

I saw something today and I couldn't stop thinking about it so I put my filthy thoughts into words for me to reread later for my own enjoyment 🤪 It's probably not that great because I wrote it directly on my phone, in the tumblr drafts but I still hope you like it.

Warnings: Smut, Edging, Sex Toys, Anal Stimulation.

**

Y/N almost wants to chuckle at the state of her boyfriend.

Whimpery. Teary-eyed. Relentlessly squirming over the silky soft, black bedsheets bedecking their dungeon bed.

It was a discreet one compared to most though... just about enough for them to get away with giving guests full tours of their apartment without them realizing their sex life has a lot more to it than what meets the eye. Their bed frame was custom made in white wood, but unlike most dungeon beds, it didn't have a built-in sex cage... instead, it had a special little drawer set for them to keep their equally special toys.

It also had many hidden elements made for tying toys (and people) to. After all, that was one of the main requirements they made to the manufactorer... they asked for tactful but sinful, and let's just say they weren't left disappointed. The headbord style was geometric and modern looking, something that always brought people to compliment them on such an interesting design choice... that never failed to make the couple smirk at each other, knowing it would serve a much more interesting purpose once the lights went low and they were left all by themselves again.

It was a canopy bed, with posts at each edge and a ceiling made out of poles that followed through the whole expand of the mattress underneath them. They had never really made use of the poles before that night, but now... seeing the lewd result that came from them as she enters the bedroom after a long warm shower, Y/N is beating herself up for not having thought of doing it before...

She had left her boyfriend sprawled on the bed, fully naked and tied by the wrists to the headboard with adjustable leather cuffs. There was a prostate massager between his ass cheeks, and a wand vibrator dangling from the ceiling amidst his legs, right over his erection. The combination stimulating both the surface area and his deepest spots.

"Look at you..." Y/N teased, snickering at the state of him. By the time she had left the bedroom, Harry wasn't fully hard yet... meaning that his cock had yet to come in contact with the wand. Y/N knew that would change fast, however... From the moment he got his ass stuffed just right, he would be bloating up and leaking all over himself.

That was how he was now...

His cock stood proudly in the air... hard and leaky, it flopped around as his hips bucked up and rolled from side to side, searching after the vibrations of the wand. Only he'd gone so slippery with pre-cum that each time the toy nudged against his shaft it would automatically slip right off and keep on dangling above him like a pendulum ball.

Poor baby boy... It was almost pitiful to watch.

"Y/N!" Harry practically shouted once he watched her come inside the room. His voice sounded strained, just like she had been expecting it to after 40 long minutes of solitary torture, where she'd been occupied bathing, moisturizing and listening to the faint background noises of her boyfriend's desperate whimpers and cries coming from the next room.

"Shh... the neighbours are sleeping..." She scolded him on her way over. Paying him little to no mind as she sat on one of the edges with her back turnt to him and began to dry off her freshly shaved legs. She bit the inside of her cheek, noticing that his hips had started bouncing around a lot more with her there. Begging for attention.

"Hurts..." He grumbled lowly, calling for her. "Please, please touch me... I need you. I'm sorry. Promise I'll clean after myself and all..."

"You can cum, pet. I never said you couldn't..." Y/N told, fully aware that the vaccilating stimulation he was getting would never be enough for that. At least not without her there feeding him compliments and rewarding him with little kisses, ghostly touches and her undivided attention.

"I can't - I- I need... 's not enough. I need more. Please, I've been good... You don't have to do anything. Just need something to push my cock into- Anything... just need you, fuck..." He groaned once she spanked the inside of one of his thighs. Hard.

"Always fucking greedy. Asking for a tight little hole to fuck... it's a shame, you know..." Y/N uttered, feigning interest as she turned her body slightly to stare into his eyes. He was almost crying. "Maybe I should turn your toys off then...? So that you can fuck your hand instead... since I'm not making you feel good enough..."

"No, no... I don't want to stop." He shook his head quickly, begging for her not to do it, just like she knew he would.

"The worst part is that I was actually going to help you, you know?" She said, ignoring the whiny pleads falling from his lips. "Was going to give you my mouth... suck you off, praise you for being a good boy... get nice and sloppy with it... lick into all the places you like and all that..." She sighed in fake disappointment. "But now... I'm thinking it's only fair I make you finish like this..." Her finger flicked at the suspended wand, to make it sway even more and leave Harry impossibly more frustrated. "No hands, and all on your own like the naughty, greedy little pup you insist on being all the time."

At that, she reached out her hand to sooth the burning on his thigh - the simple gesture making him moan after being denied of her loving touch for what was starting to feel like forever. "'M sorry. I'll be good now. I promise I'll be good..." He promised, resuming the tossing and bucking of his hips just like he was doing before.

"I know you will." Y/N praised, finally laying next to him over her belly, head supported by her hands and elbows so that she could stare right into her boyfriend's pretty, pouty face. "That's why I'll be laying right here next to you... patiently waiting for you to spill a big, sweet load all over your stomach." She licked a stripe up his skin, humming at the taste of his signature sex scent. "C'mon now, get to work. You know I don't like to wait for my favorite late night treat."