#and also turning onto a different side. or really moving at all

[nyc-tophile]

𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 | Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x fem!reader

After helping Bucky face his past, you began to break through his walls—until a nightmare unraveled his progress and pushed him into silence. Despite the distance and pain, you stayed, offering quiet support. And one night, as he sat beside you, something unspoken passed between you. The fragile beginning of trust. But nothing is ever peaceful for long, and you know that.

Warnings: OOC Winter Soldier, comfort, SFW, fluff, angst.

Author’s Note: I apologize for the late post; I wanted to take a day to relax from writing. I’m also really sorry if this part sounds rushed. I was trying to get it out as soon as possible because I didn’t want to keep you guys waiting. I hope you guys enjoy it still, and any feedback is appreciated <3

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟓 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕

It had only been a few days since you talked with Bucky. You thought things were going well, and the two of you had settled into different routines that seemed to work.

Your mornings started late, you’d wake up, head to the kitchen, make coffee, and eat something simple. Bucky, on the other hand, was always up by 5 a.m. You’d find him outside on the patio, just sitting there, staring straight ahead.

With two coffee cups in hand, you slid open the patio door, set one cup down beside him, and placed the other on the opposite side of the table before taking a seat.

“How are you?” you asked, turning to face him, then to the trees surrounding you both.

He didn’t answer right away, sitting in silence until he finally said, “Trying to figure out life.”

You understood. Going from being held captive for most of his life, forced to kill, to now hiding in a secret mountain safehouse after surviving a fall from a train, it was a lot to process, a difficult bite to swallow.

You nodded slowly, taking a sip of your coffee, your eyes drifting to the sunlight filtering through the leaves. It was calm and quiet. The only sounds were the gentle flow of the river and the soft hum of insects nearby.

“How about we do something today?” you asked, turning to face him. You noticed his eyebrows draw together, his mind elsewhere.

“Steve said we can’t leave unless something happens,” he replied, turning to face you now, his expression once again serious and unreadable.

“Yeah, well, I know that. But I was organizing some things in the living room, and I saw some board and card games we could play!” you chirped.

Bucky glanced at you, his expression unchanged, but his eyes lingered a second longer than usual.

“Board games?” he repeated, as if the concept was foreign. Maybe, in some ways, it was.

You gave him a small smile, nudging the cup of coffee closer to him. “Yeah. Not exactly a covert op or anything, but... It’s something. Better than sitting around in silence all day, right?”

“I don’t remember how to play most of them,” he admitted quietly.

You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. I mean, I doubt I’ll be amazing at it either. But that’s kind of the fun part.”

After a moment, Bucky finally stood, taking his mug with him.

“Alright,” he said. “Show me these games.”

You blinked, then smiled as you followed him inside, something light and unfamiliar beginning to settle in your chest. It wasn’t joy exactly, not yet. But it was close. Hope, maybe. Or something like it.

You led the way back inside, the warmth of the sun fading into the cool stillness of the safehouse. The floor creaked softly beneath your steps.

Walking to the stand beneath the TV, you pulled out different colorful game boxes, stacking them in your arms before moving to the center of the room. You sat cross-legged on the rug, scattering the games out in front of you.

You glanced up and motioned for Bucky to join. He did, slowly, lowering himself onto the couch with hesitant movements, his eyes scanning the boxes in quiet curiosity.

You picked up a deck of cards and started shuffling them.

“Go Fish?” you offered lightly.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a real game?”

You grinned. “As real as it gets.”

The first few rounds were stiff. Bucky moved like he was still waiting for a command, like playfulness was a foreign language. But you didn’t rush him. Each glance he gave you lasted a little longer than the last, the tension in his shoulders gradually easing.

That’s how the rest of the day went—the two of you switching between different games.

Your laughter filled the house as you taught him how to play UNO, watching his face twist in confusion as he tried to understand why he had to pick up twelve cards.

That’s what it was like for the next few days; it became a routine. Morning coffee, quiet afternoons, the occasional card game or two. He was still reserved, but he stayed near. And that was something.

-----

Then came the night it all changed.

It was late, the kind of late where the world feels suspended. You’d just stepped out of the shower, the air cool against your damp skin, your hair dripping quietly onto the wooden floor.

The house was wrapped in stillness. Even the trees outside were silent.

You moved through the hallway, bare feet padding against the floorboards, and sat on the edge of your bed. Towel in hand, as you rubbed your hair dry, letting the comfort of routine calm you.

You thought of Bucky, how he’d scowled earlier while trying to learn rummy, grumbling about the rules just before laying down a perfect hand without realizing it. The sound of your laughter, his reluctant smile… it lingered like warmth in your chest.

You exhaled quietly, the memory warming your chest. You folded the towel over your lap, settling into the calm.

Then you heard it.

A sharp, guttural scream tore through the quiet night. Your heart jumped into your throat.

Without hesitation, you dropped the towel to the floor, feet already moving. The hallway blurred around you as you sprinted toward Bucky’s room, the sound of your heartbeat pounding louder than the creaking floorboards beneath you.

You found him tangled in the sheets. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, sweat glistening on his forehead. His eyes were open, caught in the grip of a nightmare that refused to let go. He muttered something you couldn’t quite make out, words in Russian, broken phrases that made your skin prickle.

Then, suddenly, too fast to react, his arm lashed out, metal fist swinging blindly in panic. It struck your cheek hard, a flash of white-hot pain exploding behind your eyes.

You staggered back but didn’t fall. Didn’t yell. Didn’t run.

One hand pressed to your stinging cheek, the other outstretched—calm, steady.

“Bucky,” you said softly. “It’s me. You’re safe. It’s just a dream.”

Everything stilled.

His eyes focused, recognition piercing the fog. Then came the shame. The horror.

He collapsed backward, trembling, eyes avoiding yours like the weight of what he’d done was too much.

From that night on, everything shifted.

-----

Bucky became quieter. Not the quiet of someone at peace, but the heavy, weighted silence of someone waging a war inside his head. The tension in his shoulders never fully relaxed, and his gaze often drifted, distant, haunted, like he was still trapped somewhere he couldn’t escape from.

It wasn’t just the way he flinched at sudden sounds or how he’d stop mid-step if he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a dark window. It was the way he seemed to fold inward, shrinking from touch, from comfort.

Simple things became triggers. A dropped spoon would send a shiver down him, his whole body rigid like he expected an attack to come next. The worst were the shadows, late at night, when headlights passed the window just right, and the flicker made him freeze like prey in the dark.

-----

One evening, you were sitting at the kitchen table, folding laundry, lost in the soothing rhythm of the task. The smell of warm cotton and detergent filled the room.

Then came the sound.

A plate crashed onto the floor behind you. The noise sending a jolt through your spine.

Bucky stood frozen by the counter, hands shaking, eyes wide and glazed. His chest rose and fell in short, sharp bursts. His knuckles were white where they gripped the edge of the sink.

You didn’t speak right away. You didn’t need to. You moved to him slowly, carefully, resting your hand lightly on his arm.

He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t look at you either. Just kept breathing like he was trying not to fall apart.

You stayed there with him, silent. A steady presence in the wreckage of a moment.

-----

Day by day, you adjusted. You walked more softly. Shut drawers more quietly. Left the lights on in the hallway so there were fewer shadows. You paid attention to his body language, the way his jaw clenched, or how his hand would twitch when the silence got too loud.

You didn’t ask questions he couldn’t answer. You didn’t push him to explain what he was feeling.

Instead, you offered something gentler. A hand brushing his when you passed each other. A warm meal was left waiting on the stove when he didn’t join you for dinner. The quiet reassurance of someone who wasn’t leaving.

There were nights when he’d snap, his voice sharp, his words clipped, his frustration bubbling over into anger aimed at nothing and everything. You never took it personally.

And other times, he’d disappear into the corners of the safehouse, places where the walls felt far enough apart to breathe. You let him go, knowing he’d return when he could.

But you never left. Not once.

You offered silence when words failed. Held space when his grief and guilt grew too loud to bear. And in return, he started to lean, just a little.

Not in big, obvious ways. But in the softest ones.

A brush of his fingers over yours when he passed you a mug. A lingering look that held more than he could say. The way he sat a little closer some nights, his shoulder nearly touching yours.

It wasn’t a fix. It wasn’t a cure. But it was something.

And in that slow, quiet way, he began to trust you again, not fully but one breath, one step, one moment at a time.

-----

It was well into the night now. You sat alone on the couch, eyes watching the soft dance of flames in the fireplace.

Your mind wandered through memories. The day you first saw Bucky, the fragile beginning of trust, the card games, the laughter, the nightmares.

But also the progress.

You heard his footsteps approaching from down the hall, slow, hesitant. You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. You just stayed there, eyes fixed on the flickering fire.

Then, you felt the weight of the couch shift as he sat down on the opposite side.

The quiet night wrapped around the two of you like a blanket. The fire cast a gentle glow across the room, its light dancing over his face.

He didn’t say anything. Neither did you.

But somehow, the silence wasn’t heavy anymore.

His shoulder rested just close enough to yours that you could feel the warmth of him, not quite touching, but near. Present.

It wasn’t an apology. It wasn’t a promise. But it was something.

And in a life where so much had been stolen from him, where so many nights ended in pain or panic, this stillness, this choice to sit beside you, was a beginning.

You glanced over at him once, just for a moment.

He was staring into the flames, jaw relaxed, expression unreadable—but calmer than before. The haunted look he so often wore had softened, just barely, like the shadows in his mind had quieted for the night.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to.

Instead, you leaned back into the cushions, letting the silence settle, warm and full.

For the first time in days, you both just existed, together, in the same space, breathing the same air, sharing the same silence.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

You didn’t know what the future days would bring, whether the weight he carried would rise again, or if this peace would hold.

But as the fire crackled low and his presence remained beside you, something in you reminded you that he was still trying. And you were still here.

-----

It was the next day, the morning started slowly and quietly; the sun filtered weakly through the cabin’s windows, casting pale light over the quiet room. You sat at the small kitchen table, cradling a warm mug of coffee, the steam curling lazily upward. Outside, the forest was still, serene, and untouched.

Bucky stood by the window, eyes scanning the trees beyond, his metal arm resting on the windowsill. The quiet had become a fragile comfort after days of restless nights and silent fears.

Then, the satellite radio crackled sharply in the corner, breaking the stillness. Static hissed for a moment before Steve’s voice came through, low and urgent.

“This is Rogers. We’ve got a situation. Hydra’s been tracking the signal from your safe house. They’re moving in your direction. Natasha’s on her way up, but stay alert.”

Your heart jumped. You exchanged a glance with Bucky, whose jaw clenched tightly. The faint flicker of steel in his eyes was back, that cold, hard edge beneath the man you’d come to know.

“Fucking Hydra” you said, annoyance lacing your words, setting down your mug

For the first time since arriving here, it felt like the past was closing in again, but this time, you wouldn’t face it alone.

You moved quickly but carefully, the weight of Steve’s warning settling heavily between you. Bucky was already gathering the few weapons stored in the cabin, old pistols, some knives, and the rifle Steve had left behind. His metal arm flexed, a familiar but still unsettling sound in the quiet room.

“I’ll check the perimeter,” Bucky said, voice low, steady. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the conflict inside him, the soldier trained for battle, and the man trying to protect what little peace he’d found.

You nodded, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “I’ll stay inside and keep watch. If they come, we won’t be caught off guard.”

The silence stretched between you, no longer weighted by fear, but by unspoken understanding.

Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windows. Bucky moved toward the door, pausing just long enough to let you see the resolve in his gaze. “Be careful.”

You gave a small, encouraging smile. “I will, I promise.”

The door shut softly behind him.

Alone, you turned toward the fireplace, the flames flickering uncertainly in the growing dusk. Your mind raced, memories of past fights, losses, and the fragile hope you’d found here.

And yet, beneath it all, a fierce determination blossomed. Not just to survive. To protect each other. To rebuild from the shadows.

Because whatever Hydra’s coming for, they weren’t getting you without a fight.

The cabin felt smaller somehow, the walls pressing in as the silence stretched. You paced slowly, the weight of the rifle heavy in your hands as you moved from window to window, eyes flicking over every shadow, every trembling leaf outside.

Time seemed to warp, minutes stretched like hours, and your breath came shallow, barely louder than the crackling fire behind you.

A sudden crack, a twig snapping underfoot, made you freeze. Your heart hammered as your gaze snapped toward the door.

Footsteps. Someone was out there.

You gripped the rifle tightly, knuckles whitening.

Then, the sound of quiet movement by the back window. You shifted cautiously, careful not to make a sound.

“Bucky?” you whispered, voice trembling.

A figure emerged from the trees, Natasha. Her presence was a comfort, sharp and focused, her eyes scanning the surroundings with practiced precision.

“It’s just me, relax, Rogers said, Hydra’s close,” she said softly, moving inside, already assessing the cabin’s defenses.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Bucky appeared behind her, silently sliding the door closed, his eyes locking with yours for a brief moment, the unspoken promise of protection and trust shining there.

“We’ve got this,” was all he said.

You trusted him, but something in the air had shifted.

A stillness that felt too deliberate.

Natasha moved through the room without a word, checking the locks, peering through the corners of each window like she’d done it a hundred times. Bucky remained near the door, rifle slung over one shoulder, his posture rigid.

Bucky didn’t move, eyes locked on the trees. You stepped closer to the glass, heart pounding. Nothing. No sound. No wind. No birds. Just silence.

Then, Bucky tensed, and Natasha froze.

You didn’t see it yet. But they did.

That’s when you knew, Hydra had found you.

join my тαgℓιѕт -

@avgdestitute, @chimchoom, @xoxo-moonlight, @justanotherlonelybard, @spring-soldier, @vyviiennestar

[little-eye-guy]

sat at my desk for a few mins, then decided to stretch my legs out and lean back, which of course upset the ulcers

WAIT the ulcers often get upset the moment i stand up did i trick them into thinking i stood up…?

[dannyriccsystem]

i swear im in love w your posts and your account 😭 the way you write the drivers feels rly accurate, i had an idea for an au after i saw that video w the papaya boys looking down at the camera w their helmets on so maybe something about reader telling the drivers to 'sleep' w them only wearing their helmets 🙂‍↕️hehe no pressure 🧡

THE HELMET STAYS ON.

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

Summary: Begging the drivers to nail you with their helmet on. And they do.

Warnings: Pure smut, Y/N usage, P in V, foreplay, reader has a tongue piercing in one of them, hair pulling, blowjob, the whole nine yards. Basically really filthy. Also not proofread because it was embarrassing enough just writing this.

Featuring: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, CS55, OP81

This video. Oh my days. I have nothing appropriate to say.

One more before I sleep. I’m kind of scared to post this, this is my first super out there post.

(Do feel free to request risqué stuff idm!)

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

“Let me get this straight,” Your boyfriend stood in front of you as you sat, prettily perched on the edge of the bed with an innocent smile, despite what you just asked. “You,” He pointed to you. “Want me,” and then to himself. “To fuck you. With the helmet on.” He raised both of his brows.

You looked off to the side, and then back at him, nodding. “Sounds about right, yeah.” You confirmed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but with a sigh… He reluctantly gave in. Anything for his beloved girlfriend, I guess.

“M-ahhh-x,” You groaned out his name, nails desperately clawing at his bare back for some sort of leverage. Your legs were quivering as he slowly thrusted into you, his hips moving in such a hypnotic way. Even off the track, his pace was consistent, apparently.

All of his skin was exposed, every last inch, except for his face. It was covered by his iconic helmet design, the visor pulled down to conceal the expression in his eyes. You were certain they were darkened with lust, but had no proof of it.

His hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up to get an even deeper angle. Your legs wrapped around him weakly, trying to pull him in closer. At this point, you could barely move them.

He brought his helmeted face down closer to your ear, the sound of his voice deliciously muffled by the soft casing surrounding his head, “You asked for this, lieverd.” You whined out at his typical pet name, which sounded so dirty now. You were unsure if you’d ever be able to see your boyfriend in an innocent light ever again.

Your hands grabbed both sides of his helmet, mouth drawn open in an ‘O’ as you weakly moaned for him. The sweet sounds motivated him further, allowing him to draw out his final thrusts. He pulled out, hands stroking his length as you pressed soft kisses to the surface of his helmet.

He came on your stomach. With one hand, Max lifted the visor while the other gentle traced a heart onto your cum-coated belly.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

“Danny?” You came out of his bedroom one day, finding him relaxed on the couch. He leaned his head over to look at you, motioning for you to continue. In your hands was the cause of confusion— His old racing helmet. The last one he ever wore, to be exact.

It was a black helmet with a sparkly flame that shined different colors depending on the lighting. You remembered him wearing it in Singapore, the last race he ever competed in. It probably held a lot of special memories. “Do you use your old helmets for anything? I see you have a few in our room.”

“Hmm, nah. Mostly just decoration.” He shrugs and turns to sit with one leg folded underneath him, the other hanging over the edge of the couch. His elbows were propped on the back as he stared at you. “Why?” He smirked almost like he could see the gears turning.

“Wanna have sex with one on?” The answer was always yes.

It wasn’t quite what you were expecting, in the best way possible. Nothing could have prepared you for the animal that your boyfriend would become upon exploding this new area of your sex lives.

He had one of your legs pushed in the air, resting over his shoulder, which allowed him more space to thrust experimentally. The other laid on the side of his thigh, your hips held up by his free hand to get a better angle. You propped yourself up on your elbows, head slightly angled down while you stared through damp lashes.

“Fuck, Danny…” You whined, your hips twitching with a little gasp. He groaned, his head falling forward until the helmet was carefully pressed against your forehead. His grip on your raised thigh was tight, practically digging into your skin to keep himself from going feral.

“Feel that?” He muttered, his voice enveloped in the cushy walls of his helmet. The hand that held you up at the waist circled around, palm pressing down on your stomach to emphasize the slight bulge. He cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering and his dick twitching. “Shit.”

He leg your leg fall against the mattress as he carefully slipped out. One hand massaged your sore folds, bringing you to your peak just as he reached his. You both climaxed together, your thighs painted with his arousal.

He carefully lifted the helmet, still panting as he looked down at the mess he made. “Satisfied?” He asked, voice hoarse. You grinned, eyes droopy.

“Very.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

There was something special about Lando in his signature green helmet. The helmet itself was bland, but it was his staple. When he wore it, it was unimaginably attractive to you.

You tried to ignore it, but during one of his week long breaks, you decided to address the issue upfront. It was a hard topic to approach, so you figured now was a good time to be as blunt as possible.

“I want to fuck you while you wear your helmet.” Literally. As blunt as possible.

He looked taken aback, and rightfully so. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why…” He asked next. It was hard to discern what sort of face that was supposed to be. Confusion? Disgust? Arousal? All three at once?

“Because it’s hot.”

He fell silent, and then pulled you into his room where the helmet in question sat, like it was ready for this moment.

“Not so confident now, are you?” His husky voice murmured in your ear. You were currently bent over with your hands against his bedroom door to support yourself, your ass stuck out against him. All while your legs trembled. If one of his hands wasn’t supporting you under your stomach, you’d have collapsed by now.

Strong hands gripped your hair, tugging your head backwards to get a good look at your fucked out expression, and your stretched neck that was littered with deep purple marks. All you could do was softly cry out in pleasure as a reply to his question, which earned a dark chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Regretting your choice yet?” You shook your head with teary eyes. You couldn’t see his face, cloaked beneath the secrecy of a bright green racing helmet, but you knew for a fact he was smirking. Every thrust was carried out confidently, sending a resounding smack through the room. The sounds were sticky from the buildup of arousal.

“Laan,” You drawled out his name, eyes twitching as you struggled to keep them open. You could feel another orgasm approaching— Just one of many for the night. “P-Please—”

“Please what?” Another tug of the hair, making you whimper. “Use your words, pretty.”

“Let me cum,” You whined, your voice trembling. He continued silently for another thrust or two before the hand on your stomach traveled down to massage your clit, sending you over the edge. You squealed out, lurching forward to rest against the door.

He pulled his throbbing length out, releasing onto your back. With a heavy, satisfied sigh, Lando scooped you up and gently laid you on his mattress, littering your aching body with kisses upon the removal of his helmet.

“You did so good for me.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles and you had been together for a while, and it was safe to say you knew your way around each other’s bodies. However, neither of you quite knew the other’s mind.

It was hard to pinpoint the specific kinks and such. If you were both paying attention you could figure out the little things you liked— For example, Charles liked kitten licks on the tip, and he loved you in red lingerie. And you liked sensual sex with romance and eye contact.

However, there was something you had never been able to admit until now. “Can you keep the helmet on for tonight?” He blinked at your question, already half naked and hovering over you, who was… Entirely naked.

“Keep the helmet on?”

“Yeah. Just to try it out.”

It didn’t take much convincing.

The entire experience changed when the helmet came on. Maybe you were expecting him to take a dominant stance, but it seemed as soon as the mask came on he was a whining and stuttering mess.

Charles was propped up on his elbows as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself further onto his impaled cock. He couldn’t even form a sentence, just desperately grip your hips and occasionally involuntarily thrust up into your tight heat. He was thankful for the helmet, actually. That way you couldn’t see his pathetic expression.

“Feels good,” You praised, your voice like honey. He squeezed the fat of your hips tighter, both of his index fingers anxiously tapping against your skin. He wasn’t normally so… Submissive like this.

You reached out, lifting the visor of his helmet to unveil his eyes. Just his eyes, that’s all you could see, but they told you exactly what you needed to know. With furrowed brows and a watery gaze, he made direct eye contact with you.

His hands traveled to find yours, squeezing them tight while you rode him. He could barely ground himself, but your steady presence certainly helped. “Y/N-” He finally managed to splutter out, his legs twitching and his hips jerking.

“Shh, you’re okay,” You whispered, moving your hips faster. “You got it, you’re doing great.” At your praise, he seemed to lose it, spilling deep inside you.

His body collapsed against the mattress, leaving you to carefully lift his helmet and brush his damp hair away from his eyes.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

You came home from a stressful day to your boyfriend standing in the dining room, examining his racing helmet under the light. “What are you doing?” You questioned softly as you set your things down on the table.

Her flinched, but relaxed as soon as he realized it was just you, and there was no need to be worried. “Just thinking.” You raised your brow as if asking ‘about?’ He showed you the helmet, and you just shrugged with a lack of understanding. “I want to fuck you with it on.”

You blinked at his forwardness, your gaze shifting from the helmet, and then to him. “If you’re comfortable with it, I don’t mind.”

Sex with Carlos was typically slow and sensual, just what you needed after a long day.

Not this time.

He had you folded in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Your knees were pressed to your chest, hands gripping the sheets as he fucked into you in your folded position. He hovered over you, one hand on the headboard and the other on the curve of your ass.

He grunted, but most of the noise was coming from you. “C-… Carlos!” You yelped, surprised by the change in tone. Your eyes twitched, threatening to roll back into your skull. You tried to swallow your moans, but it was impossible to keep silent.

He suddenly grabbed both of your hands, bringing them up to hold your own legs back. He busied his digits with your hole. Two fingers circled your needy clit, making your legs ache and shake. The other two slid right in with his cock, plunging in and out in a rhythmic manner.

“Feel good?” He questioned in that thick accent, ensuring your comfort over all. You couldn’t form a coherent response, leaving you to just nod a silent yes.

It seemed like ages he toyed with your poor hole, but finally he pulled free and let himself release onto your stomach. You let your legs fall to the mattress, twitching occasionally. Both of you panted as he removed the helmet, sweat dripping from his forehead. His hair was beautifully messy.

“That was…” He trailed off.

“Hot,” You finished for him.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

You had been giggling to yourself all day as you stared at your phone. It was beginning to make Oscar anxious as he automatically assumed the worst. With sudden steeled courage, he decided to confront you.

“What have you been looking at? You haven’t stopped laughing at your phone.” His tone was calm, but inside he was slightly panicked. That is, until you turned the phone around to show him an edit. Of himself.

He had seen a few of them. Ever since him and Lando filmed that video showing off their helmets, the fans had been going crazy. “What about it?” He tilted his head, not unlike the way he did in said video. Your ovaries basically exploded.

“Do you have your helmet?” He nodded. “Put it on.”

Well, you didn’t have to tell him twice.

This… Wasn’t exactly what Oscar had been expecting. He knew you had something filthy in mind, but to suck him off while he was wearing nothing but his helmet was a little absurd, even for you.

Thankfully, he accepted the freak in you.

Your tongue darted out to give his tip a little lick, the cold metal of your tongue piercing making him twitch. He shuddered, a deep groan leaving his lips. Without even thinking, his hands grabbed the back of your head. However, he relaxed before making any sharp movements, and let it rest there for now.

You experimented further, plump lips encasing his whole tip, cheeks hollowing experimentally. He groaned, head tilted back momentarily. You looked at him through your lashes, giggling around his length when he peered back down, the movement unbearably attractive in your eyes.

You placed your hands on his thighs to balance yourself, and slowly took more of him in. He tried to keep quiet, but he could only bite back so many groans before they started to flood out. As your pace increased, his grip on the back of your head did, too.

Eventually, you weren’t even moving anymore. He was just full on face fucking you to get himself off, and you didn’t care. You let your mouth be used by your boyfriend, whose hips were jerking in and out in a spontaneous rhythm.

He finally came to a stop, his length twitching as he pulled it out. Half of his seed was shot onto your face, while the rest was expertly aimed for your mouth.

He was breathing heavily as he lifted the helmet, peering down at you with a heaving chest. “Holy shit.”

That was by far the most emotion anyone had ever gotten out of him.

[damselneedssaving]

BATBOYS BUT THEY WITNESS A STRANGER PULL F!READER INTO A HUG AND CLAIM TO BE HER BOYFRIEND. FT. MARK GRAYSON! P.T.2

★ TAGS: older!damian wayne, older!duke thomas, everyone is 18+, mention of death, romance, mark is utterly devoted to you, jealousy, lots and lots of jealousy, little bit of dark!batboys, kind of dark!mark too

★ A/N: tim didn't get to speak much last chapter so i'm hoping this one makes up for it!! also also, you guys have acc overwhelmed me with all the support, thank you all so much 😭💞💞💞

★ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 ★ | ★ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ★ | ★ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ★

MARK DID, IN FACT, SAY 'DIFFERENT DIMENSION'—

—and now, he's sat on your bullet-hole-covered couch, head moving from side-to-side as he watches you pace the room behind your broken table, one hand holding your elbow, the other situated beneath your chin.

You're half paying attention to him, half stuck in your own thoughts, his earlier words repeating in your mind like a mantra, a broken record player you can't seem to fix no matter how much you move its lever.

"Okay," you whisper, maybe to him, maybe to yourself, "let's... let's run this back. You said you're my... boyfriend, right?"

Mark nods in time with a few growls in the background.

"But... from a different dimension?"

He nods again.

"Right, okay." You echo his action, nodding to yourself like any of this makes sense, like you don't have a million thoughts running through your mind right now.

"This is ridiculous," Damian voices one of them with a scoff. "How do we know this isn't another one of Darkseid's schemes? Something to lower your guard with so that he can capture you as leverage against us?"

You breathe in through your nose, pinching it again. "C'mon, Dami, would you really let him follow you to me?"

He purses his lips, not another word falling from his mouth.

That settles that.

"Sorry about that, Mark. Can you elaborate?"

You turn back to the otherworldly meta human, only to find his eyes already on you (still on you), wide, and with his face a little stuck out, like he's actively trying to get closer to you, like he can't bring himself to be too far away.

The thought turns your insides to mush.

You clear your throat, ignoring the tingle in your stomach. "Um, Mark?"

He blinks. "Huh?"

"I, uh, asked if you could, y'know, explain a bit more?"

He blinks again, slower this time. Then, with a shake of his head, he lifts a hand behind his neck, rubbing it in a habit so boyishly awkward, you have to fight back the smile threatening to climb onto your face. "Right." He clears his throat. "I was sent here by this guy in my dimension—Angstrom Levy?"

He peers up at you, as though expecting some sort of reaction to that name, but when you frown back at him with a quirk of your brow, he continues his explanation slowly.

"He can, uh, open these portals at will."

"Right..." you trail off, turning your head down as your eyes glaze over, "and in your world, I'm your girlfriend?"

"Were," he corrects, and it's so quiet, you almost don't catch it.

In fact, you're sure you heard him wrong.

"Sorry?"

"You were my girlfriend," he speaks again, firmer, but in a tone no less far, no less clouded. 

"We broke up?" You furrow your brows—no, that doesn't make sense. If you did break up, why would he come to your door claiming to be your boyfriend and not your ex?

The answer to your question lies in the man seated on your couch, but unlike before, he suddenly can't seem to bring himself to look at you, gaze instead trained to your wooden floorboards like they're the most interesting things to grace the planet. What? Does he not have wood in his dimension?

A beat passes without Mark saying a word.

The silence sits heavy, like the humid air of a rainforest swallowing you whole and threatening your very ability to breathe.

You find yourself awaiting escape from it, his words, however long they may take to come, like a promise of salvation from your woes.

But it isn't him that saves you.

"You died," a voice cuts through the silence, sharp and through gritted teeth. "He let you die in his world."

Instantly, Mark's head shoots up, and he narrows his eyes into sharp, lethal daggers at Damian.

"I didn't let her." He snarls, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. "I just..."

And then, just like that, he loses all the fight, fingers loosening their tight grip around nothing as his form all but falls, folding over like a wet noodle with no will to keep going.

"Fuck me..." you breathe out, hand already up and pinching your nose again.

To think, another version of you, a different version of you—with a different life and a boyfriend and maybe even no wood in her world—died.

Fucking hell.

"I need a drink," you find yourself muttering, shaking your head lightly before peering up at Mark. "Do you, uh, also need something?"

He's back to looking at you, gaze wide and brows knitted and lips parted by just the slightest hair as he whispers with all the sincerity of a samaritan, "Just you." Then, a little louder, "All I need... is just you."

You think the world stops when you catch air in your throat, that it drowns out until it's just the two of you when those words leave his tongue.

All of a sudden, you seem to be floating on a cloud, drowning in his gaze of pure intensity as your own heartbeat thunders in your ears and you forget how to even breathe or blink or see anyone that's not him for a brief second.

But then that second passes, and you find yourself on land once again.

You quickly excuse yourself, ignoring the holes that bore through you as you leave the room to enter your kitchen instead, the cold of it like a breath of fresh air against your warm skin.

God, fuck, that moment was so intense, you don't know if you can even think about what was revealed before it, his gaze lingering on your skin like rain after a hurricane.

So vivid. So loving. So utterly devoted that you could see nothing but yourself reflected back in those eyes.

The cup in your hands almost slips from the cabinet above your head at the memory.

In fact, it does slip. But it's quickly caught. Though not by you.

A warmth radiates against your back, and you turn, just to have it radiate against your front instead.

"Tim..."

His head is tilted to yours, eyes glazed over as one hand places the cup down on the counter to your left, and the other situates itself firm on the counter to your right.

For a beat, he just stands there, trapping you to the corner of your kitchen with a gaze as clouded as the Gotham night sky.

Then, just as you part your lips to ask why he's here, he speaks.

"Tell me I was seeing things."

His voice comes quiet, whispered and pleading as his brows knead up with a shaky sort of pull.

"What?" you can only ask, his breath hot against your face, close and feeling like it won't be moving anytime soon.

"Tell me..." he starts again, repeating without hesitation, "that I was just seeing things."

When you furrow your brows back at him, he continues, almost desperately.

"That you weren't... that you weren't looking at him for a second like..."—his face scrunches up, expression pained, like you've just gone and hit him with an axe—"like you believed him."

"Tim, I—"

You don't know what to say, not when he looks at you like that, like you've just shattered his whole entire world right in front of him.

"Like..." Tim continues, and the next words he has to really push out, wincing like it hurts just to say, "like he's actually your boyfriend."

Your stomach drops, insides churning as Tim's fingers curl against your counter with an audible scratch.

"You know he's not, right..?" he whispers, like not even he's sure. "That he's just a stranger?"

You furrow your brows, gulping down saliva and steeling yourself. "Of course I know."

But it's like Tim doesn't even hear you.

"He doesn't love you. He doesn't even know you."

You narrow your eyes, going to respond when he beats you to it again.

"Not like I do," he continues, and your words die on your tongue, eyes going a tad wider as he leans in just a bit closer. "Not like I've done for years."

Whether he's talking about knowing you or loving you, you're not sure.

And you continue to be unsure as he softly reaches for your dominant hand, gripping the back of it like he's afraid that if he lets go, you'll slip from him entirely.

The next thing you know, your hand is cradling his cheek, and he's holding it there, allowing your warmth to bleed into his skin as he looks at you with those wide, shaking eyes you seem to be on the receiving end of quite often these days.

"Tell me," he begs—lips wobbling, brows knitting, expression pleading.

And you don't think you can even if you wanted to, mouth too dry and head too empty to even voice a clear thought as he moves to slip his free hand around your waist and pull you closer.

"Please."

You think you're only able to snap out of it when you're just a breath away from his lips, just a hair from touching them with your own as he drills into you with those wide, shaking, desperate blue eyes of his.

And once you do snap out of it, once everything becomes just a little too much, you place a hand firm against his chest, whispering his name with a small, light push.

His grip around you tightens for a second, eyes glazing over, but before they can stay that way, before he can do something without a lick of sense or reason, they clear up again, and he slips his hands from your waist, letting you part from him as his arms fall to hang limply by his sides.

And when you move to further part from him and the room, you pretend not to hear the loud bang against your kitchen counter.

So much for a drink.

TAGLIST: @silas-222, @bloofairyfox, @wiseavenuelove, @inkycapps, @velovicy, @mmentallyelsewhere, @verysynical, @1abi, @bluepartywobblernickel, @krys0210, @patatasolitaria, @mazixxss, @nova916, @federalprison78-4, @crissy09yesso, @minhyrin, @nutella-hitler, @kvzutora, @starslightzz, @alishii, @crybabyghostie, @jsprien213, @cupid73, @doggyteam2028, @invinciblewaffles, @love-theangel, @butterbiscuit444, @thecrazyone2007, @reaperxdeath, @mexxs-xs, @gaychaosgremlin, @pookiei-bookie

[lolab4t]

pinned down - smut 18+

MINORS DNI

pairing: thunderbolt!bucky barnes x f!thunderbolt!younger!reader summary: daily sparring sessions with bucky always toe the line between playfulness and tension. but today, that tension snaps. when another round ends with you straddling him on the mat, it sets off a chain reaction of confessions, teasing, and desire too long buried. bucky finally stops holding back, and so do you. word count: 8.8k warning(s): 18+ explicit content warning, smut, mature themes, light swearing, some power dynamics, dry humping, unprotected p in v, semi-public setting, mention of thunderbolts*, age difference, reader is described with afab anatomy a/n: so bucky is officially my current fictional man of the month. like i was always a loki girly, but tumblr has converted me... anyways, i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please feel free to like, comment, or reblog! <3 also, requests are open!

killshot - magdalena bay

“again,” bucky grunted as he got to his feet, breathless but stubborn.

the two of you were in the thunderbolts training facility, doing your daily sparring. strength wise, you were both pretty much on the same level. but, for some reason, you always seemed to come out on top. literally. it was usually you pinning him down.

you rolled your eyes from where you stood across the mat. “you sure? that’s the third time i’ve had you on your back today.”

his lips twitched. “don’t flatter yourself.”

"too late for that…" you chuckled, backing into your stance. “c’mon, grandpa.”

that got him moving.

he hated when you called him that. grandpa? sure, he was over 100 years old, but he sure didn't feel or seem like it. plus, a lot of those years he didn't even remember.

he didn't want you to think of him as too old for you.

the two of you danced in circles, boots quiet against the padded floor. it wasn’t serious, just the usual, but there was always an edge when it came to you and bucky. teasing. testing. a little too much eye contact.

he lunged. you dodged. your leg hooked around his, and with a twist and a push, he hit the mat again with a thud.

you landed straddling his hips, pinning his shoulders with your hands, grinning down at him.

“fourth time,” you said smugly. “you getting rusty, barnes?”

he didn’t answer right away. just blinked up at you with that unreadable expression, metal fingers twitching at your sides like he was debating something.

then, without warning, he moved.

in a blur of motion, he twisted under you, caught you off balance, and the next thing you knew, you were the one flat on your back. his body hovered over yours, one knee braced between your legs, hands pinning your wrists to the mat.

your breath hitched. why was that so hot?

trying to compensate for the blush creeping onto your cheeks, you scoffed, “cheap shot.”

“all’s fair,” bucky replied, his voice low. you could tell he was partially lost in thought, like he was still debating something.

you shifted under him, pretending like your pulse wasn’t hammering in your throat. “you gonna make a move, or just hover like a weirdo?”

his grip on your wrists didn’t tighten, but his gaze did… sharp, focused, like he was searching for something in your face.

“i think i just did,” he said, letting out a dry, short laugh.

your breath hitched again.

you knew what he meant.

the words hung there for a beat too long.

his eyes were bracing for rejection, like he’d already decided he could handle it.

then, breaking the silence, he gave a small smirk, “you know, i usually just let you pin me.”

you laughed, short, breathless. "oh, so you're saying you don't even try?"

"maybe i just like the view when you're on top of me."

you stared up at him, feeling like your heart stopped beating.

then you swallowed, speaking in an unsure tone. "you being serious?"

"i'm not the messing-around type. you should know that by now."

"good," you smiled, "neither am i."

his smirk turned into a grin, “so… rematch?”

you hummed, “maybe. only if you’re playing for keeps.”

then your grin turned into a smirk, your eyes darkening. "or… we could do something else."

he snickered, the challenge in his eyes shifting into something deeper, more intense. he lowered his voice, just enough for you to barely hear him.

“something else, huh?”

you nodded slowly, heart racing, the heat between you suddenly more than just from exertion. his metal fingers brushed against your jaw, light as a feather but enough to make you catch your breath.

“tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice husky, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin.

you swallowed, eyes looking up into his almost innocently, words barely a whisper. “right here. right now.”

he chuckled low, a sound that sent shivers down your spine.

then, his lips were on yours. rough. passionate. heated.

he pulled your bodies up to a sitting position, you in his lap, straddling him.

your hands were all over each other. hungry.

“tell me if i’m moving too fast,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with desire but a hint of hesitation.

you whispered against his mouth, “don’t stop.”

his lips curled into a slow smile before dipping down to kiss the sensitive skin along your neck. the roughness of his stubble mixed with the softness of his touch made your skin shiver.

you grounded your hips down on him, aiming for his growing bulge, causing him to let out a low grunt.

“i’m right here,” he murmured, voice low and whiny. “just tell me what you want.”

your hands explored the broad planes of his chest beneath his shirt, feeling the steady beat of his heart. your fingers curled into the fabric as you pressed closer, bouncing on his lap slowly.

"you, bucky. i want you."

he unraveled before you. his hands were on your hips, guiding your grinding to hit where he need you most just right. his face was in the crook of your neck. you could feel his quick breaths against your skin.

you whined, making yourself feel good against him. one of your hands snaked around the back his neck, moving up slowly to tangle your fingers in hair. the other moved down from his chest to his abs slowly, stopping right at his belt.

one hand remained on your hip, while the other had already unclasped your bra and pulled your shirt over your head.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and searching. “god, you're beautiful."

then his gaze softened ever so slightly, "we don’t have to rush.”

you shook your head, breathless but sure. “i don’t want to wait.”

his smirk deepened, “then let me show you how much i’ve been holding back,” he murmured, voice thick with need.

his lips found your jaw, trailing hot kisses down to your throat. you tipped your head back, giving him better access, grinding on him in a faster pace now. you tugged on his shirt, pulling it up slightly.

he chuckled as he moved his hand to pull his shirt the rest of the way over his head.

his lips went back to your neck, leaving a trail from your throat back up to your mouth, where he captured your lips in a kiss that was all tongue and heat and longing.

“fuck,” he breathed against your lips, “i’ve wanted this for so long.”

you smiled against his mouth, fingers trailing down his chest, feeling every muscle tense beneath your touch.

“then don’t hold back,” you whispered.

he grinned as his hands roamed lower, "i know you like having me on my back, but it's your turn, again."

his smirk widened as he eased you back onto the mat, hovering over you with that smug face.

“payback’s a bitch, huh?” he murmured, voice low and teasing as he brushed his lips along your jaw. “but don’t worry… i’ll make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

he slid your pants and panties down your legs, his mouth following the path of his hands, slow and deliberate, worshiping every inch of skin he revealed with eyes drinking you in like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. you were breathless under his gaze.

you tugged at his belt, fingers fumbling with need, and he let out a soft, breathless laugh, helping you shed the last of his clothes.

he captured your lips in another kiss, before pulling back to position himself in front of your entrance. "you sure about this? we can slow down."

you looked up at him, "i'm sure, bucky." your voice was confident and firm.

his jaw tensed at your words, like restraint was hanging by a thread.

“okay,” he breathed, voice husky and deep. “okay.”

he kissed you again, slower this time, like he was memorizing the shape of your mouth. his hands smoothed down your sides, grounding you, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched as he finally pushed into you.

his movement was slow, deliberate, patient…

he smiled, soft, lopsided, nothing like the usual cocky smirk. just him.

his name fell from your lips in a whisper, and he caught it with another kiss, like he’d been waiting to hear it just like that.

bucky held you like you were something precious, like every inch of you mattered. and maybe, to him, it did.

your bodies moved in rhythm. his hands mapped your body with quiet touch, no rush, just the kind of intent that said this wasn’t just want, it was care. maybe even more.

the air between you was heavy, warm, laced with the sound of shared breaths and quiet murmurs of each other’s names.

it wasn't long before you both unraveled in each other's arms, your movements halting.

your bodies laid tangled in one another. bucky let out a quiet chuckle, pressing a kiss to your temple. “so… still think i’m getting rusty?”

you laughed, breathless and content. “nah. you’re just finally playing to win.”

he smirked, brushing sweaty strands from your face, his tone teasing but his gaze full of something much softer. “then i hope you’re ready to keep losing.”

and for once, you didn’t mind losing.

thanks so much for reading <3 requests are open

[littlepuppers]

i really want to go camping. just a nice, solo camping trip to relax and have time to myself :)

I’d wake up and make breakfast, hike up to a different spot, start a fire and forage for a bit, draw or carve something, and setup camp for the night.

i have one pair of pjs with me and my sleeping bag for the night because i don’t have to worry about anyone judging what i wear or asking me for a spare blanket. So i packed just a pair of booty shorts and a smallish tank top. it’s just basic undergarments, nothing fancy, and i would be pretty embarrassed if anyone knew i wore these drabby clothes to sleep.

after i make a cup of sleepytime tea and wait for the fire to die out, i snuggle up in my sleeping bag. it’s a bit chillier tonight but i don’t have any other clothes to wear on top of this since i only brought my pjs and my stinky hiking clothes.

whatever. i drift off to sleep and dream of watching shooting stars falling around me, so pretty. as they crash onto the ground around me i feel the heat from them on my skin. it’s getting warmer, but i also really feel it on my cheeks. like i’m flushed or blushing. i watch the stars spark into flames and die out into embers.

animals start to surround me. deer, rabbits, foxes, and coyotes. they all come up around me and start sniffing my face and body. they start licking my face and neck, i giggle trying to push them away, it tickles. one of the coyotes that’s licking my stomach starts traveling down toward the hem of my shorts. woahhh haha, watch out buddy, i tell him.

Obviously not understanding english, he nudges his snout under the hem and takes a lick on my parts. i push his head away harshly and sit up. Immediately im pushed back down by the other animals and a huge buck comes and steps on my hair and arms so i can’t move.

i know this is a dream but how am i not waking up already???

a rabbit comes and starts pulling my shorts down, the coyote comes back and nudges his snout between my legs, i scream and try to close them but he turns and bites one. fuck, that felt real.

He goes back and starts licking, hesitant at first, just seeing how it tastes i guess. since foraging and meal prepping the smart and healthy way, ive only packed like fruit and stuff so obviously it probably tastes like really fucking good. at least that’s all i can assume from him diving in, licking deeper and deeper. fuck her tongue is fucking huge. it goes in and out fluidly. the slick sounds filling the air along with my whimpers and the other animals breathing and chirping and whining.

i feel it building up in my tummy, something molten. fuck, this is the weirdest wet dream i’ve ever had.

all of the sudden, his tongue dives insanely deep and curls into one of my spots. I wake up with a gasp and shaking through an orgasm. letting out a loud screaming moan, my eyes shoot open as i feel it curl inside me again.

WHAT THE FUCK

a tall dark figure is above me, my sleeping bag is unzipped and this persons hand is between my legs, his fingers curl inside me again. i scream, grabbing his arm and trying to push him away and get his fingers out. he plunges them deeper and uses his other hand to wrap around my neck and push it to the ground, holding it there.

i try to scream but can’t with my minimal airway, so i struggle and whimper, squeezing and trying to tear his arm away from my neck but it won’t budge. his fingers are still thrusting in and out of me, sometimes slowing down to explore and prod at my spots. i really cant help but shiver from the stimulation and orgasm from earlier. but who the fuck is the guy and how did he get in here and find me?!?

he finally speaks, moving his fingers to slip out a bit. “you weren’t this wet the whole time darlin’, my friend had to help you out to start, could barely get him off’a you. but i can’t blame him…” the dark figure takes his fingers out slowly with a shhlickkk sound, putting them up to his mouth, “…because you sure do taste fucking heavenly.” he leans to the side so i can see behind him something moves, a fucking dog. what the fuck. i thrash and whimper. “don’t fucking move. he bit you once, he’ll do it again.” I freeze, the bite, the dream, fuck it was all real.

the dog starts whining and tries to come up to me but the man pushes him back. he pushes his fingers back into me and starts moving them again, fuck i’m so overstimulated it almost hurts. “fuck, he’s eager. do u mind if he goes for a second course?” “fuck you,” i strain out. he opens my legs barely and the dog jumps over me sniffing and licking as deep inside as he was in the dream. fuckkk this is horrible i could get a disease or something, he needs to stop licking at my fucking spots it’s really too much.

the pressure starts building again. oh no, no no no no. please god i can fucking cum on a dogs tongue. opposing to my thoughts, my body gets closer and closer and- he stops. i freeze and tears start flowing from my eyes. from relief his contact from me is gone and because my body is so worn out now.

SHITT, something scrapes at my hips, the dogs paws, what the fuck is going on?? “sorry darling, he needs a little help, do you mind?” the man takes the pillow out from under my head and harshly lifts my hips, placing it underneath. he takes his hand off my throat finally, i gasp for air and can barely speak through my damaged vocal chords, “fuck you asshole.” “uhh yeahhhh i won’t, but he’s about to.” he nudges the dog forward. the man stuffs my shorts into my mouth so i can’t scream. how the fuck is this happening.

the dog immediately scratches at my hips again and starts rutting his hips toward me. FUCK NO. i thrash around but feel something poke my neck. it’s the man holding my wood carving knife i. his hand against my neck. “move, and I’ll fucking slit your throat.” tear start flowing from my eyes. how did i ever get in this position. i feel something scortching start to poke at my entrance, fuck please no please please please no…

the dog edges toward me more and suddenly plowing himself so deep inside me, how the fuck did i think doggy dicks were small??? this feels fucking huge, it fucking hurts. he’s thrusting in and out and an inhumane pace. his huge red doggy part pushes every single one of my spots and i can’t think anymore, i can’t even move. it’s like he’s going through me i can almost feel it in my stomach. he starts growling and i feel it get bigger. no way, this dog is not gonna knot me. please god. he can’t fit it in thank god.

“aw cmon buster, you can do better than that,” the mysterious man says before pushing the dogs backside against me and i feel it force inside me FUCK.

fuck that’s huge, i can’t fucking move because i think im gonna break. help please someone help me god…

i feel it. the flooding of molten liquid filling me. all i can do is whine through this soaked through fabric. i’m such an idiot for getting myself in this stupid situation, for not bringing a gun, im so stupid. there’s nothing i can do now except stay still while this dogs huge knot presses on my spot and his cum dumps into my cervix. i feel it dripping out. all over my sleeping bag and the floor of the tent. “how’d that feel hun? seems buster loved it, did you?” he takes his finger and wipes from the base of the dogs cock, bringing the liquid up to my mouth and smearing it all over my lips. i feel it leak down into my mouth and i’m utterly repulsed.

the dog breaks away with a POP and my legs and hips and whole body goes lax. the man chuckles and puts his hand down there again. oh no please don’t, and he doesn’t. instead, he scoops up the dogs cum and pushes it back into me. “good girl keep it in ok? the scent of it will help him track you down again.” i groan weakly and my vision begins to go blurry. the last thing i see is him throwing a stick outside the tent and the stupid dog running off after it to fetch.

fuck camping.

[mi55delulu]

movie goers

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)

wc: ~16.4k

cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🔞, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

—

if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.

so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.

you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.

three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.

finally, someone was moving in.

some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.

unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.

“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.

you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).

except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.

as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.

“hey, neighbor.”

you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.

the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.

“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.

what’s done is done.

you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.

but fuck, he’s hot.

—

305 was not quiet.

you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.

you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.

you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.

you love him.

you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?

back to the situation at hand.

you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.

another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.

god, you missed her.

you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.

again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.

realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“

“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.

his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.

“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”

you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.

“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.

little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.

“don’t know.” he shrugs.

“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.

he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.

“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.

he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.

—

“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.

“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.

“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.

“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.

jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”

jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.

not jungkook though, so he thinks.

“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.

jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.

weird.

what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.

so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.

but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.

alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.

—

jungkook was going to murder you.

not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.

fuckin’ hell.

it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.

“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.

you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.

“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”

he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.

“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.

“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”

“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.

you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”

you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”

jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.

should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.

—

the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.

honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.

your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.

you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.

weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.

though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.

that’s fine.

you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.

the feeling was mutual.

“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.

“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”

“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.

he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”

you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.

people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.

one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.

“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”

he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.

“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.

“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”

you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.

“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.

“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.

knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.

another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.

jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.

he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.

yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.

shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.

—

people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.

that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.

the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.

regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.

score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.

you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—

“ahem.”

you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.

“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.

even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.

no fucking way.

“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.

jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.

“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.

the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.

“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.

yeah, cause you had bought k12.

“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”

jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.

“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.

“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.

the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.

you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.

well, two can play that game.

“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.

she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”

“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”

truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.

you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.

he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.

“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.

“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”

you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.

the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.

you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.

when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.

“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.

you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”

“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.

why would he?

“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”

nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”

unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.

“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.

“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.

she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.

—

you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.

nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.

clean slate.

“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.

“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.

“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.

“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”

“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.

“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”

you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.

“look, i’ll apologize—“

“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.

there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.

—

the talk never happened.

because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.

today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.

it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.

highest of highs, lowest of lows.

it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.

you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.

you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.

when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.

little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …

you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.

“uh, 307?”

“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.

he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.

ah, shit. he feels even worse.

“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.

you scoff and look away.

“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”

“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.

“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”

“shut the fuck up.”

he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.

“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.

“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.

“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.

“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.

you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.

“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”

it was the first time you laughed all day.

—

things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.

on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.

oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.

“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.

so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.

‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’

to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.

‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’

needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.

so yeah, things have been good.

tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.

you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”

you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.

you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.

“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”

“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.

“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.

“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.

“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.

anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.

“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.

jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.

“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”

“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”

they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.

a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.

“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.

there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.

—

jungkook feels sick.

he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.

the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.

jungkook has a bad feeling about him.

jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.

the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.

well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.

he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“you good?” jinah whispers.

“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.

she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.

shit.

why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?

he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.

—

you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.

you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.

“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.

“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.

“what do you do for work?”

“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.

“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.

“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”

“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.

“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.

“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”

“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.

“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.

“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.

“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.

you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.

“they’re amazing, jungkook.”

his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.

“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.

“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.

“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.

“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”

—

you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.

he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.

men.

you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.

“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.

“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.

all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …

you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.

“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.

he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.

“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.

“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”

“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.

he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.

“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”

you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.

jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.

“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.

his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”

you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.

you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.

he really was perfection.

little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.

did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.

“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.

you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.

“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.

“are you cheating on me?”

“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.

realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”

he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.

when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.

“well?”

“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.

“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.

you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”

“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”

“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.

his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.

you sniffle into his chest, “why?”

he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”

his girl.

“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.

“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?

fuck it.

“i don’t know. people who love each other?”

he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.

“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“

“do you even like me?”

“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.

“do you love me?”

he’s silent.

“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.

“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.

“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”

—

the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.

you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.

you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.

guess old habits die hard.

you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.

… and no jungkook.

you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.

honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.

jungkook didn’t deserve that.

the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.

breaks meant for a reset.

he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.

you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.

he eventually obliged.

thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.

“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.

dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.

“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.

you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.

“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.

“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”

“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.

so, it was your fault?

“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”

the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.

so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.

love is patient, love is kind.

you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?

maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.

“goodbye, dohwan.”

—

jungkook hates overly loud sex.

it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.

win-win.

sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.

it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.

fuckin’ gorilla.

jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.

you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.

he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.

just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.

jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.

—

‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’

you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.

he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.

you slowly let him back in.

he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.

yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.

you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.

“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.

you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”

“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”

“hm.”

“what?” he presses.

“nothing.”

“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.

“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”

jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.

“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.

you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.

which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?

was he just like you?

his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”

you sigh.

“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”

jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.

he ruffles your hair.

“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”

—

jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.

aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.

he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.

you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.

you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.

that just might be his demise.

even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.

like dog, like owner.

“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

bam whines and follows you to the door.

“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.

“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.

“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.

“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.

“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”

bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.

jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.

you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”

he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.

“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”

“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”

you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.

so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.

—

you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.

it’s not always about being in isolation though.

it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.

with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.

wrong person, wrong time.

because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.

jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.

yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?

right person, wrong time, you suppose.

bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.

doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.

“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.

“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.

he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”

he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”

your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.

“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.

“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.

he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.

“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.

“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”

before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.

—

jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.

“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.

“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.

he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.

“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”

“i don’t get—wait, what?”

“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”

has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.

“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”

and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.

it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.

jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.

—

home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.

bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.

“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.

“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”

he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.

“bad.”

“oh? wanna talk about it?”

“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.

“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.

“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.

“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.

when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“sorry—“

“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.

“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.

“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”

“good, as she should.”

jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”

you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.

“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.

“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.

“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.

“just hear me out, okay?”

you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.

“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”

you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.

you owe him the truth at least.

“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”

jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.

“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“

you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.

“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”

he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.

“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”

“huh? no, you’re—“

“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”

he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.

right person, wrong time.

“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”

“friends,” you agree.

it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.

“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”

“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”

“that shit was the worst to get off.”

“funny as hell though.”

“yeah, for you.”

everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.

—

“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.

“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.

you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.

“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”

“yeah, but—“

“you’re just scared. i know you.”

“nayeon …”

“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”

“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.

“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”

you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.

“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.

everything happens for a reason.

“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.

“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”

“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”

“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”

“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”

the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.

you want more.

you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.

you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.

—

you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.

it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.

you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.

he looks like home … no, he feels like home.

fuck.

you really are torturing yourself.

when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.

so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.

“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.

“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.

he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.

as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.

after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.

“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.

“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.

“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”

“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”

“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”

“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”

“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.

you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.

“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.

“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.

you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.

when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.

jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.

you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.

when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.

“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.

“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”

your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.

“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.

“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.

of course he wants more with you.

“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.

“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.

“okay.”

—

fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.

he feels the same with you.

this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.

part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.

so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.

“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.

if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.

slow and steady. you are both fine with that.

“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.

“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.

—

it’s going terribly.

traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.

okay, fine. to the movies it is.

except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.

when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.

“bam, no!”

all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?

bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.

“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”

“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.

“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.

you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.

hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.

“can i come in, kook?”

a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”

jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.

you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.

“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.

“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”

“all of it.”

“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.

you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.

“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.

“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.

he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”

he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”

“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.

“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.

“hm?”

“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.

jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”

you felt fucking special.

so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.

he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.

“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.

he’s also your boyfriend now.

you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.

you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.

“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”

jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.

his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.

he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.

“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”

you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”

“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”

“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.

“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.

jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.

“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.

his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.

“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.

if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.

you’re still so fucking perfect.

he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.

“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.

“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.

yes, he’s yours.

you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.

“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”

you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”

he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.

jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.

your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.

“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”

jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.

he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.

“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.

your heart swells at his words.

there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.

it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.

and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.

you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.

“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?

he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.

he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.

“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.

tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.

“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.

“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.

“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.

he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.

he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.

“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.

never, he thinks.

jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.

“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.

you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not mindful, quiet, or kind with how he entered into your life.

though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.

love is patient, love is kind.

you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.

fin.

—

a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜

[fairyofshampgyu]

☆ Captive Royalty !

genre: crack, royalty au, fantasy au, smut, fluff

pairing: sub prince ! beomgyu x dom afab poor reader ?

synopsis: desperate times call for desperate measures…so you kidnap the prince of the kingdom and he turns out to be more of a handful than you expected.

warnings: kidnapping !! sub beomgyu, dom reader, beomgyu gets drugged, slight knife play, bondage, ropes, degrading, choking, riding, creampie, hand job, kinda dollification, overstimulation, hair pulling, orgasm denial, finger sucking ? (this sounds really dark from the warnings but it’s kinda unserious and silly and consensual)

word count: 4.6k

Prince beomgyu lets out a long, theatrical sigh, wandering aimlessly and weaving through the bushes and trees of the mystic forest a few metres away from the castle, needing a break from his duties even for just a second of reprieve. The air smelled of damp earth and fragrant wildflowers. Butterflies flitted their pretty wings lazily around him as he stepped over a cluster of bluebell flowers on the mossy floor, where mushrooms were also scattered of all different shapes and colours.

As he ventured deeper into the forest, vines and ivy curled around the tall tree trunks, practically moving and alive, shaking loose pink petals off the branches and falling atop beomgyu’s long hair instead.

He stops when he comes across a small, crystalline pond tucked away, watching as purple dragonflies hover over the surface, lily pads and petals floating on top and, beneath the clear water, koi fishes whose colourful scales practically glowed, swimming and flicking their tails elegantly. Beomgyu stood there for a moment, captivated by the tranquility of the scene. For a small second, it was as if he could finally forget everything.

But then, he mutters to himself, scowling. “I swear to the gods, hate the court, hate those stupid advisors. I hate them all.” Prince beomgyu kicks a pebble rather aggressively into the pond in his frustration.

A tiny fairy emerges out of the water, angrily screaming, hovering and pointing, coming very close to his face high pitched in a language he cannot understand, then vanishes in a puff of glitter.

Beomgyu stares blankly, then merely shrugs.

Instead, he takes a look back at the ethereal scenery, the forest nothing short of enchanted. Closing his eyes, he tilts his head back, basking in the golden sunrays peeking through the canopy, inhaling deeply.

But his moment of peace is abruptly interrupted when he feels a cold, sharp blade pressing against his throat.

Beomgyu’s breath catches, eyes snapping open to meet a much less aesthetic view: A dagger, pressed very intimately underneath his jaw and already practically digging into his adam’s apple, “What the fu-”

“Don’t move.” Came the voice behind him.

Oh my god. He’s going to die. This is where prince beomgyu begins to panic, immediately stripping himself of his jewellery and any valuables, tossing them onto the grass, hastily. “Here! Take it! Take all of it! Please! Just not my face! I’m too handsome to die!”

You stare at him, baffled beneath the mask you were wearing, almost forgetting to keep the dagger steadily pointed at him.

“I’m not robbing you.” You say flatly. “I’m taking taking something far more valuable...”

There was a moment of silence as he looks at you cluelessly.

Then he gasps. “You’re taking my hair?!”

“I’m kidnapping you.” Tightening your grip on the dagger, you roll your eyes, grabbing the cloth from your bag, shoving it over his nose and mouth, drugging him.

“Mmfph!” The prince protests, flailing but then his eyes roll back and his limbs go limp, simply falling unconscious.

You warily eyed up the prince who now sat unconsciously tied to a chair in your cottage, head lolling to one side.

Surprisingly, it was much easier kidnapping the prince of the kingdom than you had imagined. He didn’t put up much of a fight, nor were there any guards around him, or any witnesses at all. Quite underwhelming really.

But at least everything was going even smoother than planned, you’d even written the ransom letter and had already sent it off to the king. Now you just had to wait and soon it would all be yours.

You study the prince’s face. You’d never seen him before, too preoccupied and shut away in your cottage in solitude. You didn’t care for them. Besides, what have the royals done for you other than tax you and steal all your money? Why were they even praised anyway? They just sat around doing nothing really. It was practically their fault for your situation right now.

Other than that, the prince was almost achingly pretty. He had quite handsome features, long, thick eyelashes that practically kissed his naturally flushed cheeks, perfectly round, plump lips, messy bangs falling effortlessly over his brows. His regal attire, though a little dirtied from the abduction, still extravagant, embroidered with gold thread and intricate patterns. He looked dainty and fragile all tied up. The prince reminded you of a doll.

A quiet groan breaks the silence and your staring. The prince stirs, lashes fluttering before his pretty eyes slowly blink open, dazed. He takes in his surroundings, strangely without much alarm, gaze sweeping across the decrepit interior of your cottage before landing blankly on your black cat perched menacingly on the window sill. They have a tense, silent stare off before his eyes make their way to you, looking you up and down since he hadn’t seen your face properly before, eyes raking over your figure with a brow raised. He looked almost…amused?

You supposed you didn’t cut the most terrifying figure. No scary scars, no missing eye or other limbs. Just plain clothes, a dagger at your hip, and an unimpressed expression.

The prince speaks up. “Are you part of a rebellion? Do you want to overthrow the monarchy?”

“No.”

He lazily grins, eyes trailing down to the ropes binding him. “Hmm. Then this is… a little provocative, don’t you think?”

“The hell.” You furrow your brows at a loss of words. “No! Ransom. This is for ransom! ”

“Ah.”

“You’re the prince. Your face is probably worth more than my entire life. When your daddy finds out his beloved son has been captured, I’m sure he’ll give me all the money I ask and you’ll go back to your fancy castle.” You lean back, sighing, just imagining how much gold you’ll accumulate soon, “Don’t worry, your kingdom will pay good money to have you back.”

The prince snorts. “Will they?”

You frown. “…Yes?”

He gives you a pitiful look, “I hate to say it but I think they’ll be more relieved than horrified I’m gone, to be completely honest.”

You cross your arms in confusement. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” He says, shifting in his restraints, “that my father finds me to be an insufferable disappointment. If you think he’s going to shell out a fortune to get me back, you’re sorely mistaken. No one in that castle can stand me, too much of a ‘troublemaker’ or something apparently.”

You stare at him. “You’re joking.”

“Wish I was.” The prince replies cheerfully. “You should have kidnapped my brother Prince Huening Kai instead. They would have had a heart attack. If you’d taken him, they’d probably have sent an entire army after you by now.”

“I wasn’t even aware there were two of you.”

“Five actually.” He adds, “Maybe you should have done some research before kidnapping royalty.”

You roll your eyes, “Well, which one are you then?”

“Prince Beomgyu!” He beams, grinning widely, looking proud and smug, his expression entirely too relaxed for someone tied to a chair in a stranger’s cottage.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as you were beginning to think.

It had been days.

And absolutely nothing.

No guards barging down your door, no royal army marching through the forest, no frantic messenger bird clawing at your window with a desperate letter from the king, promising to give you all the money in the land for his poor son back.

Just pure silence.

You were starting to think either something happened to your messenger bird on the way or gods forbid, they really, truly didn’t want him back.

“I told you.” Beomgyu’s voice was maddeningly smug from where he was still bound to the chair. “Face it. They don’t want me back.”

You put a hand to your hip. “You’re lucky I haven’t gagged you.”

“Oh?” The prince raises a brow, smirking.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Gods. You’re disturbed.” You turn away to check the kettle heating by the fire. You were going to need tea. Lots of it.

You take a tea cup in your hand, pouring the earthy, floral brew that you had foraged from the forest, steam rising in swirls and you bring it to your mouth to drink. The warmth seeping through your fingers and into your chest, making you slightly more calmed about this whole maddening situation. Beomgyu’s eyes are on you the entire time. You supposed you could give him some too. “Here. Have some tea.”

“Can’t exactly help myself, can I?”

You huff, rolling your eyes, walking over to him, bringing a cup to his soft lips for him to sip and he looks up at you with a teasing glint in his eyes almost like he’s heavily enjoying that you’re doing this for him.

He swallows, furrowing his brows and smacking his lips together, savouring the taste. “Ooh Peasant tea. I like this. It’s very different to how all of my many chefs have made it for me.”

You cross your arms, nodding in approval, “It’s the best. Practically survive on it.”

He seems amused by your love for tea, nodding, sipping some more until he’s finished and you place the cup back on your counter.

You study him intently, intrigued. “So, why were you sulking around so much by the pond, kicking rocks at fairies before I—well, pointed a dagger at your throat.” There’s no easy way to describe the situation.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to! How was I supposed to know there was a fairy there?” Beomgyu protests, finding it humorous. “But, they’re forcing me to marry some princess from some other kingdom. I don’t even know her. I don’t want to get married at all.” He grimaces, staring at the ground with furrowed brows. “I hate being a prince. I have no freedom or say in anything. It’s so suffocating. I must act in a certain way, all these duties, now marriage. I don’t want any of it.” Beomgyu looks uncharacteristically and genuinely upset about it, the most sad you’ve seen him, and that’s you holding him captive.

You blink, then almost laugh. “Wow. Poor you. You really have the worst life. Must be so hard having all your meals cooked and servants at your beck and call, sleeping in a massive bed with silk sheets. In a castle. Truly.”

The prince furrows his brows at your mocking tone. “You don’t get it. It’s not all that great, you know.”

Your scoff, crossing your arms. “No, I get it. you’re incredibly privileged for those to be your only problems.”

He sulks at you, shrugging. “I guess so. I’d still rather have your life though, a peaceful, mundane, peasant life.”

You give him a flat look, nearly amused at his comical, out of touch words. “It’s far from peaceful. I’m incredibly in debt at the moment and owe money to lots of people, scary people I can’t even begin to repay. I’m doing this because I need the ransom money. You wouldn’t last a day in the real world.”

“I would!” He heavily pouts at you, taking offence. It’s almost endearing. “Anyway honestly, being held hostage has been much better than any day at the castle.”

You shake your head at the prince, sighing.

Beomgyu talked. A lot. About the castle gossip, about the ridiculous scandals of the court, all their carefully polished lies sold to the commoners, about all his other brothers, Prince Yeonjun’s scandalous new affair.

You were very entertained, the tea you make, since it seems to be one of the only things he likes, and these conversations weirdly happening regularly.

“I swear to every god in existence.” Beomgyu had said, with all the endearing dramatic flair of someone telling ghost stories with a candle, “Prince Yeonjun was caught HALF NAKED, sneaking out of the royal astrologer’s tower.”

“No way.” You gaped, sipping on your tea.

He grins, victorious, revelling in your shocked expression. “Swear on my crown. I don’t even know why I’m the one they call troublesome.”

Somewhere along the way, you’d begun to like having beomgyu around, in a way that both irritated and intrigued you.

He was for sure a bratty prince, complaining endlessly about almost everything, the chair, food, the ropes digging into his skin (you had tied them more gently), dramatically whining about a small splinter he got because of the chair (you actually took it out for him and gave him a bandage).

But…for all his whining, very strange comments, and being a royal pain in the ass, (and though you wouldn’t admit it aloud), the strange companionship he offered, despite the messed up predicament, was starting to feel…maybe comforting? when you’d had nothing in the past but your cat, living alone in your cottage.

He’d become company. Real company. It had been so long since you’d had that.

You had one thing in common, you both hated your realities and wanted to get away. And you could, if this damn king would send you the ransom money and come collect his son. You’re honestly astonished. Would they even come for him? What were you supposed to do with him if they never come?

“Ughh.” Beomgyu groans dramatically, wiggling his tied hands pathetically. “I’m suffering.” He says with such an exaggerated pout it was almost impressive.

You turn around to look at him, wondering what it was now.

“My bangs are all in my eyes. I can’t see anything and I can’t move them away.” He blinks at you. Then, very deliberately, batts his lashes, those ridiculously long, doll-like lashes. “You kidnapped me.” Beomgyu says pointedly, deadpan. “The least you could do is brush my hair out of my eyes. Basic courtesy.”

You raise a brow. The audacity. But with a long sigh and contemplation, you wandered over, standing before him. He blinks up at you, the brown strands of his hair over his eye, genuinely a little pathetic and silly looking.

You brush your fingers through his messy strands gently, absentmindedly. His hair was so soft. His pretty brown eyes locked with yours, eyes following your face, unblinking, unusually quiet for once. Close.

And gods, was he pretty.

Your touch lingered longer than probably necessary, tucking the last of his bangs behind his ear, fingertips brushing against his warm skin. You swear the tips of his ears were pinker than usual too.

You finally step back, heart doing something inconvenient in your chest, you could only scowl at him.

Your kidnapping had been, by all accounts, a complete and utter failure. It had not been the most fearsome hostage situation either, your intimidation tactics quite lacklustre, no violence, no torturing, and no damn money.

Even your cat had gotten used to him by now, seemingly liking him, curling up often in his lap, purring contently and napping. And worst of all, You were getting used to him too.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting a warm orange glow in your small cottage. The evening had settled in, quiet and still, except for the rhythmic, repetitive sound of your knife chopping into carrots on the cutting board for a stew.

“Well,” Beomgyu drawls from his usual spot, arms bound behind his back and chair, voice cutting through through the ambience. “you know. You’re not exactly what I expected.”

“Why, disappointed?” Your eyes don’t leave the cutting board, still chopping and unfazed.

His lips quirk into a lazy grin. “Hardly.”

That makes you pause mid-slicing the vegetables, turning around with an incredulous look, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Perhaps. You’re easy on the eyes.” The fire flickers and reflects in beomgyu’s deep brown as you as you stare at him and you catch mischievous glint in them too.

“I’ve quite literally kidnapped you.” You fold your arms.

He shrugs in his restraints, “I know you won’t hurt me. You haven’t tortured me once. Not even a little.”

A slow smile makes its way across your lips, brow raising at what you hear, amused. Instead, you reach for your dagger, making your way towards beomgyu and his gaze follows your every movement.

“Oh?” You slowly flick some of the locks of his soft hair out his face with the sharp tip of the dagger, his breath catching in his throat at that, eyes slightly widening. Then you trace the blade leisurely along his cheek, the prince shivering at the feeling of the steel on his skin. “How are you so sure?” Beomgyu swallows, breath hitching almost looking scared for a second, but then he smirks, thrilled, eyes never leaving yours and yours never leaving his. The two of you locked in a stare now, the eye contact, quite intense.

“You like me.” Beomgyu simply grins impossibly wider.

“Like you?” You echo, sceptically, scoffing at his words. With deliberate slowness, you trace the dagger across his jawline, advancing down his pretty neck, pressing the sharp edge down a little hard—not enough to cut but enough for him to feel it and dip into his soft flesh, his skin prickling up and chest rising and falling, all tensed in anticipation. “Are you sure you don’t like me?”

You point at the now growing tent in his pants that was too hard to ignore. A violent red flush creeps over his cheeks, embarrassed as you cast a deliberate, judging glance downwards with an arched brow. How incredibly absurd. You’re pointing a knife at him and he’s getting turned on.

He purses his lips together for a second, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows but then he runs his mouth again, voice a little breathless, but he grins regardless, “What are you going to do about it?”

Where on earth does he gain this confidence from?

“Leave you. That’s disgusting.” You say, pulling your dagger away in theatrical repulse and moving away from him.

Beomgyu instantly splutters in panic, thrashing helplessly against his bonds, pathetically pleading, eyes wide. “B-but! Wait! Please. It hurts!”

You smile, satisfied, stepping closer to him once again. That’s more like it. “Why should I?”

He just looks up at you so severely desperate, so pitiful. Your eyes flicker down to his slightly wobbly lips and then back up at his panicked eyes. And as if drawn by some invisible force, definitely not of your own doing, you grab and tug at one of the ropes, impulsively leaning down to kiss him, he kisses back instantly, fervently, surging forward and leaning into the kiss as much as his bindings would allow, lips crashing together, all heated and messy, needy and sloppy, beomgyu whines softly into your mouth and gods help you, it does things to you. You bite down on his plump lower lip until he gasps, shoving your tongue down his, dominating the kiss and he just lets you.

You then pull away, he still tries to chase your mouth back even when you pull away but you move to his throat, trailing your lips down his neck, ghosting over, he tilts his head back obediently, warm breath sending him shivering before you bite and suck harshly.

“Please.” He pants, delirious, so worked up already, eyes squeezed shut. “Touch me. Please.”

How could you refute? He squirms in his chair when you begin to palm him through his pants, already embarrassingly hard, gasping so loudly, jaw going slack just from that. Beomgyu bucks helplessly into your touch as you continue to teasingly grind your palm, kissing and sucking on his neck again, he’s all just needy whines and whimpers, pleas falling from his lips for a little more.

You love his reactions and the pathetic noises he makes, so worked up from a little friction on his clothed dick. You want more of it, you want to break the pretty little prince. You sit in his lap, unzipping his pants before him, cock just as pretty as every other part of him, leaky, wet and red, you brush your thumb over his cute tip, spreading the precum teasingly slow, watching his face.

“Oh…” Beomgyu looks down himself, brows knitting together, shuddering and groaning softly.

The sound when you wrap your hand around his cock and glide your hand up and down is impossibly loud over the crackling of the fire in your cottage, sticky and squelchy and the prince already seems far gone from the slow pumping, unraveling at the first stroke, pupils blown wide, glossy lips parted. How dirty.

“Did you seriously get hard from your captor threatening you with a dagger? You’re fucking sick, beomgyu.” You ridicule him in a faux saccharine tone, hand pumping his dick faster, twisting around the tip that he’s panting now, his head dropping forward, resting and falling on your shoulder, you bring your other hand to stroke at his hair. You can tell he’s close, moaning out prettily.

He still manages to bite back though like the brat he is so clearly he’s not that much of a mess you like you want him to be, he lifts his head back to look at you. “You’re the one who kidnapped me. You’re sick.”

“Fine then. If I’m so sick, I’ll stop.” You still your movements on his dick, pulling your hand away. He wails, loudly crying at that, trying so hard to move, pulling uselessly at the ropes to chase your hand but he can’t.

“No! Please. I’ll die.” There he goes being so dramatic again, tears brimming in his panicked doe brown eyes, hyperventilating. The fact that this is the most distressed he’s gotten being kidnapped is honestly concerning. “Please,” He rasps, wrecked, dazed “fuck me.”

You cruelly laugh at the sight, tutting. “Such crude words coming from a prince...”

He just whines frustratedly in response, exasperatedly frowning like he’s having a tantrum.

“Aw. What a poor little prince.” You mockingly coo at him, stroking his cheek but he leans into it anyway, yearning for more, wanting any sort of touch from you now, you drag your teeth against the lobe of his cute pink ear licking, goading him. He shivers at that, sucking in his breath.

“You’re torturing me!” Beomgyu comically pouts.

“I thought you said I wasn’t torturing you at all.”

“Well now you are. You’re killing me. I’m going to die.”

“This is what you call torturing?” You chuckle incredulously.

“Yeah. Fuck me now.” Beomgyu looks like he might combust if you so much as deny him another second, his cock twitching in the open air, painfully red and glistening. You haven’t touched him in what? Seconds? But it feels like an eternity to him. “Just…please—”

You don’t even wait to hear more of his insufferable begging, you lift your skirt and hips up, pushing your panties to the side and sinking down on his dick unceremoniously, it nearly knocks the wind out of him, gasping sharply, mouth hanging open.

“Holy shit.” He groans. “You’re, oh my god—”

Beomgyu throws his head back, practically going cross eyed at the feeling of your warm tight pussy around him. You start to bounce on his cock continuously, riding him and holding onto his shoulders roughly to stabilise yourself., beomgyu moaning shamelessly loud, high pitched and strangled like a girl, dumb and dazed, drooling onto you at the feeling of your pussy.

You bring your hand to his cheek, kissing beomgyu hard, hands tangling in his long hair, tugging, fucking him mercilessly as he sinfully and filthily moans into your mouth. Then he pulls away.

“Choke me.” Beomgyu licks his swollen lips, looking at you sexily, eyes half lidded.

“You’re perverted.” But your hands wrap around the column of his delicate, pretty neck, now marked and mauled. Beomgyu exhales a shaky breath like it was all he wanted.

“Ah…harder.” Beomgyu gulps, pretty Adam’s apple moving as he does so.

You squeeze harder around his neck and he hisses, furrowing his brows, face scrunching up gorgeously, a pretty vein in his neck popping out. His eyes roll to the back of his head, gasping for air, letting out breathy noises, face and neck flushed, you press down just a little more, still bouncing on his cock, deliberately clenching around him. You feel him twitching inside you and then he cums, whole body convulsing, spilling his load inside your pussy.

But you don’t stop, bringing your hand to his shoulders roughly again, digging your nails into him, fucking him through it. He whimpers painfully, straining against the ropes, but he can only helplessly take whatever you give him.

“stop!—ah! too much, too sensitive…” Beomgyu sniffles and sobs, gasping at the overstimulation, babbling incoherently.

“No it’s not. You were begging to be fucked, now it’s too much for you?” You tighten your grip on his shoulders.

He’s about to whine and complain but you take two of your fingers, stuffing them in his mouth to shut him up, he sorrowfully sucks on them like a slut instead, moaning around them whorishly, gazing up at you with teary watery eyes and his pretty wet swollen lips. Gods. Just looking at the state of him, pretty, writhing, helplessly tied up, it’s making you go insane. He still looks like a doll, face red and rosy, dolly lashes thick fluttering and clumped together with tears, soft hair now all messy, bangs damp and all sweaty. A wrecked, cracked porcelain doll, your doll, yours to ruin and play with. He looks divine. What a whore of a prince.

You bounce on his dick mercilessly, riding him faster and faster and faster to get yourself to reach your high too, bringing your finger to your clit, rubbing. One final look at beomgyu’s face, pitiful doe eyes and sucking on your fingers and that does it, cumming around his twitching dick. With a muffled scream and sob, beomgyu’s cumming again, looking like he’s going to pass out, spurting and shooting more of his warm and sticky white ropes of cum into you, cumming so much, it’s all creamy, completely milking him dry, his whole body shaking beneath you and his chest is heaving like a drowning man, gasping for air.

Only then do you reach for your dagger again, slicing the rope, slithering to the ground. Beomgyu falls forwards instantly, collapsing into your arms, gripping and clinging to you, trembling like a leaf, hands roaming all over you and hugging you tight, the first time he could actually touch you. And beomgyu kisses you so desperately over and over, like he’s starved, hands shaking, clutching your clothes, you keeping his cheeks feeling equally starved.

But your kissing is interrupted by a messenger bird throwing a scroll with an unmistakable royal crest through your window. You get up to read it:

An armed procession will arrive by nightfall to collect our Prince Beomgyu in exchange for the agreed ransom.

— His Majesty, the King.

“Are you…going to return me back then?” Beomgyu says quietly, like he already knows the answer and is fearing it, his shoulders are slumped, already looking miserable and like a devastated puppy, thinking about having to return back to living in the castle.

You think for a moment. You fold the scroll neatly, setting in on the table. “No.”

Beomgyu blinks, “No?”

You smirk. “I’m taking something far more valuable.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen, and then stars. His eyes practically lighting up, sparkling, you could practically see his tail wagging if he had one.

You both start giggling like idiots.

By the time the army reaches your cottage that evening, it is already abandoned.

And somewhere, gods only knows where, you’re running hand in hand through the forest, longe gone, cat tucked under one arm, and just enough tea packed to last the journey.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and disappointing when fics have such little reblogs. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write more :)

A/n: do not ask what this is 😭 I know it makes zero sense but thats kinda the point it was just supposed to be unhinged unserious crack smut 😍🫶

[enhani-ki]

caught - reader x ni-ki

warnings: smut, nsfw, aphrodisiac induced, explicit language, etc.

you had just gotten home, it was really too hot outside. your body were sticky with sweat from the walk back and swear,

it was one of the worst feeling ever.

the first thing you did was hop into the shower and let the cool water soothe your overheated skin.

and while drying yourself in the living room, you also emptied your bag onto the table. there's your phone, wallet, make up... until your eyes landed on a small box of chocolates.

your friend had shoved it into your bag earlier, complaining hers was too full.

curious, you snapped a photo and sent it to her.

[you sent a photo]

you: can i try this?

minutes passed but there's no reply, and longer you stared at the box, the more you thought, just one, why not?

so you ate one out, popping it into your mouth without any second thought.

you started to feel... weird, after a while. your cheeks flushed, your breathing grew heavier, and your body suddenly felt restless in a different way.

you had just stepped out of the shower, yet your skin felt hotter than before.

your nipples hardened too, you started pressing your legs together involuntarily. just groaning, tossing and turning against the couch, grasping for relief, while your mind wandered.

you miss your boyfriend.

your tall, gorgeous, dancer boyfriend. the man who had the most perfect face and body, perfect hands, hands that knew every inch of you. hands that could grip your hips as he fuck you from behind, he could wrap it around your throat and make you whimper. his voice, his smile...

"riki..."

"fuck," you exhaled, the towel had already slipped off your body while you were rushing to your bedroom. you sat over a pillow and rolled your hips fast and desperate.

your fingers dug into it as you rocked harder, imagining the way your boyfriend can fill you up, how good he feels inside you. your mind replayed the last time he had you pinned against the wall or bed, fucking you so deep you were actually going dumb and crying. you missed him. you missed his weight pressing you down, his breath against your ear, his cock stretching you open-

and ni-ki's heart had nearly stopped when he heard moans the second he stepped into the house.

his body moved on instinct, long legs carrying him fast towards the bedroom. did something happen? are you okay? what the fuck is going on-

is there someone else with you?

and you were there, so lost in your own pleasure, so caught up in the fantasy, that you didn't hear the door open. you didn't hear the footsteps, nor his belt being unbuckled behind your back.

then a hand suddenly covered your mouth, and pulling your body away from the pillow.

a startled gasp left your lips, you tried to scream. "help-"

"you couldn't wait for me?" ni-ki asked, his breath brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

you scared him too but all he could think right now is his poor baby just got so desperate and had to fuck a pillow.

his lips crashed onto yours before you could even answer, kissing you upside down—just hungry and possessive.

"riki," you moaned, biting your lip. "i need you so bad, baby."

your body arched, your skin burned with need to feel him everywhere. then you sat up, hands trembling as you pulled his zipper down, removing his jeans and boxers fully in one go.

his cock sprang free, thick and aching with precum glistening at the tip.

your mouth just... watered.

and just as you were about to take him into your mouth, ni-ki suddenly shifted, lying down beside you instead.

you didn't even care, you just positioned yourself above him, bringing your knees to either side of his head.

you want to suck him off first but you also needed something either like a friction to keep you from aching.

then you leaned down, wrapping your fingers around his cock before taking him into your mouth. ni-ki groaned, his grip tightening on your ass the moment your tongue swirled around the tip.

then he pulled you down onto his mouth even more.

you just whimpered, struggling to keep up as your pleasure from his tongue made you dizzy, and feral.

you were humping the pillow for too long so now you couldn't last in his face. your walls started clenching, your moans muffled around his cock as you came hard.

ni-ki was there drinking and licking, keeping you right there, making sure he got every drop of your release.

he flipped you onto your back after, his body moved on top of yours, cock already pressed against your entrance, one that was already wet from your mouth.

"please," you whispered, holding on the back of his neck.

"okay," he kissed you, sliding into you so deep, he had both of you moaning at the stretch. "it's so tight," he groaned, burying his face on your neck.

the pace was slow at first, but you needed more so you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, making him lose it.

his hips snapped into you fast and relentless. his mouth found your tits, sucking hard, leaving marks, moaning against your skin.

every thrust sent sparks through your overstimulated body, leaving you dizzy, and delirious with need. "faster, riki..." you begged.

ni-ki cursed, obeying immediately, fucking into you even harder, and rougher. the sound of skin slapping, moans and breathless gasps, filled the room.

his hands were everywhere gripping your thighs, pinning your wrists above your head, grabbing your face to kiss you deeply between thrusts. you felt like you were burning, like your body couldn't handle this much pleasure at once, but you also needed more and more of his dick.

ni-ki panicked, "fuck, baby- i'm gonna-"

you moaned as his pace turning erratic. "me too... gonna cum."

your back arching as another orgasm crashed over you, your walls were squeezing him so tight he's losing his mind. the feeling sent him spiraling. he groaned loudly, his movements grew sloppy as he came inside you, his hips jerking with every wave of his release.

his body trembled against yours. both of you were gasping for air and grasping at each other like you'd fall apart otherwise.

ni-ki didn't move after he came, he stayed inside you, panting, his forehead pressed against yours, hands gripping on your hips, heart pounding while his entire body still tingling from how insane that was.

"holy shit," he breathed out.

you let out a breathless laugh, brushing your fingers through his damp hair, holding him in your arms. "yeah..."

he swallowed, hands sliding down your sides, still gripping, still needing to feel you. like the thought of stopping, pulling out, and not being inside you will hurt him.

"baby," he murmured, kissing your jaw, your cheek, your lips. "i still wanna fuck you."

you let out a soft giggle, your body clenched around him told him you wanted it too.

"i don't think you can still move," you whispered, playing with his hair.

ni-ki groaned against your skin, trailing kisses up your neck.

"but that's fine. i'll do all the work now."

"you're perfect," he chuckled in relief.

you can feel him softening, but somehow his dick were still filling you inside perfectly, still pulsing with need despite how wrecked he was.

you smirked, biting your lip as you rolled your hips just a little.

ni-ki whined, his fingers dug into your skin, his head dropping against your shoulder. "fuck, baby, don't-" but you did it again, rocking against him, feeling him twitch back to life inside you.

a soft chuckle left your lips as you kissed his temple. "i thought you wanted to feel me?"

"i do," he groaned, his voice breathless, wrecked. "but i'm so fucking sensitive."

you ran your hands down his back, nails grazing his skin lightly as you slowly lifted your hips before sinking back down. a strangled moan left his throat, his arms wrapping tighter around you.

"oh- shit..."

you grinned, pressing your lips to his ear. "too much?"

ni-ki let out a shaky exhale, his hands trembling as they tried to guide your movements even though his body was too weak to follow through. "no," he rasped. "don't stop."

you took over, moving at your own pace, rolling your hips, feeling him grow hard again inside you. ni-ki became helpless beneath you, making noises and broken whimpers as his body shuddered with every grind of your hips.

you tangled your fingers in his hair, tilting his head up to look at you. his eyes were glassy, blown with pleasure, his lips swollen and parted as he panted, begging for more without saying a word.

he looks so pretty, blushing and fucked out.

his fingers dug into your thighs as his hips weakly tried to meet yours. "you're ruining me."

you smiled, leaning down to kiss him, swallowing every moans as you rode him, doing exactly what he wanted—because after all, he was the one who said he still wanted to fuck.

and you can't even remember what happened after, now you slowly woke up with ni-ki pressing soft kisses to your face, and your body was aching in the best way possible.

he then stood up to get water, running his hands through his hair but his dazed eyes flickered to the small box that had fallen from your bag. he furrowed his brows, his still pleasure-addled brain struggled to process but somehow, he was able to comprehend that the chocolate is laced with aphrodisiac.

"so this is how you were able to keep going?" ni-ki asked holding up the chocolate.

you tilted your head in confusion, he threw the box for you to catch.

"oh my god?" you scoffed in disbelief, "this is why i was so fucking horny..."

ni-ki laughed, unwrapping and munched on one.

"wha- why'd you eat that?"

he walked towards you and cupped your face, pulling you into a messy, chocolate-flavored kiss.

so ready to be ruined even more.

a/n: it wasn't even their chocolate T_T but anyway, thanks for waiting. this is a very short one, hopefully i can finish the others so i could post it right away <3

masterlist: マスターリストm.list

taglist 𖤘: @dolliewon @ziiao

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[throughparisallthroughrome]

The Sun and His Star

The Result of This Poll

Pairing: greek god!anakin x female reader

Description: Unable to resist a friendly wager, Anakin finds himself in a world of trouble as he seeks out a Naiad he has fallen deeply in love with.

Warnings: f!reader, swearing, angst, unrequited love, mentions of death, mentions of worship, alcohol, SMUT, fingering, oral sex (f recieving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, degradation, literal pussy worship, loss of virginity, corruption kink, crying, size kink, soft dom!anakin, praise kink, orgasm denial, MDNI 18+++

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: I have been SO excited to post this. This is also my first time writing actual smut and i'm pretty nervous about posting this! This is very loosely based of the myth of Apollo and Daphne, except that myth is pretty creepy and Daphne turns into a tree at the end of it so I wanted something a little more happy. Thank you guys for participating in my poll! I really hope you enjoy. As always, my requests and inbox are open!

masterlist.

Thwap!

Almost.

As Anakin's fingers trace the intricate details of his golden bow, his focused eyes never leave the target, anticipating a shot that he thinks to be perfect. Squinting his eyes, he tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. His mind ran through different calculations at a million miles a minute. Perks of being a God, I suppose.

He shook his head in frustration, allowing the bow to slip from his hand and rest beside his belongings as he sought reassurance from the comforting embrace of the ancient fig tree. Although he had the entirety of Olympus to practice, Anakin always chose the hills and forests of Macedonia, knowing the only thing he could possibly run into was a bear. And running into bears was fun for the Sun God, as archery usually is. How is the God of archery missing his shots? Anakin was lost, although he’d never admit it.

His slender fingers traced the grass, memorizing each blade's touch as he became increasingly fascinated with the Greek world. He brushed back his chestnut locks with his free hand, letting his eyes close as he breathed in the mortal air surrounding him. Greece was better than Olympus; it was his missing piece.

Things hadn’t been the same lately. Worshippers had died down at Delphi, and his typical “appear in their dreams nightmare route” wasn’t going so smoothly either. And now he’s struggling to make a shot? Could he even call himself a God, much less his father’s favorite?

Annoyed with his thoughts, Anakin summoned a fig to his hand, biting deeply into it- just for the taste. He chewed slowly, letting the juices run from his lips, down his chin, and onto his golden armor. And that was another amazing thing the Greek world had- fucking figs.

“Why so down, my friend?” Anakin’s eyes shot open out of his trance to meet his favorite rival, Obi-Wan Kenobi, God of Passion. Anakin’s fingers swiftly moved the arrow off the target behind him, not wanting Kenobi to catch his failure.

“How did you find me?” He stood up abruptly, dropping the fig onto the grass he was tracing before. His fists balled at his sides. Typically, they got along pretty okay, but with Anakin’s meandering mind, he was the last God he needed to see.

“Oh, you know, I just followed the foul stench of arrogance and failure into the Greek world. By the way, how would Zeus react if you were practicing down here, hm? Letting your talents go to waste, and possibly seen by mortals, not to mention-”

“Alright, Obi-Wan, I get it. You’ve made your point. What do you want?” Anakin watches as Obi-Wan’s smile grows before him, and a sinking feeling fills his chest.

“You don’t need to hide your failure from me, Anakin.” Obi-Wan lips turn into a smirk, watching as Anakin’s temper began to get the best of him once again.

“Obi-Wan, I’d be careful. I am Anakin, God of the sun, The All-father’s first-born son, and I will kick your ass all the way back to Olympus any fucking day. Try me. If I were you, I’d choose your next words carefully.” Anakin towers over Obi-Wan, his remarks laced with venom as he observes the smile grow on the God before him.

“I heard your worshippers are waning at Delphi. And now you’re missing your shots… Gods, Anakin, are you no longer Zeus’s favorite? What is going on with you?”

With Obi-Wan suggesting Anakin’s worst nightmare, Anakin had him up against the fig tree in seconds, his hands pulling up at his toga as rage coursed through his golden blood. His eyes searched Kenobi’s, watching the amusement dance within them. What was his game? What could he possibly want?

“Watch your fucking mouth, Kenobi. I’ll send your ass right down to Hades, and Zeus will not come to your aid again. There’s a reason I’m more powerful than you. What the fuck do you need love for when you can be God of the Sun? Zeus’s favored son? Huh? There’s a fucking reason I am celebrated more than you are. I don’t see your temples taking over the Greek world. I don’t see you massively worshipped-”

“Oh please, Anakin, they worship Ahsoka as much as they worship you. She’s your twin sister and equally on par with you despite being a goddess.” Anakin pulls a fist back and sends it flying into Kenobi’s jaw, watching as his golden blood pours from his nose and down his chin. Anakin grinned.

“Fucking watch it. That was the last comment you’re going to be making in a long, long time.” As Anakin pulls back his fist, Obi-Wan’s hands go up in defeat, signaling the white flag Anakin is looking for.

“How do you feel about a little wager?” He whispers, a hint of fear present in his voice as he watches Anakin’s golden eyes narrow at his proposition.

“And why the fuck would I do that, Kenobi, when sending you to Hades is just as easy?”

“Because I know you can’t resist a chance to prove yourself to be better than me.”

“Okay,” Anakin loosens his grip on Kenobi, letting him fall against the fig tree as he backs up and crosses his arms, “And what would this wager consist of? And make it quick- before I change my mind and punish you regardless.”

“Best of 3 shots. If you win, you can punish me as you deem necessary. If I win, well, how about we keep your punishment a surprise?” Obi-Wan pushes himself off the tree, summoning his bow and arrow in his hands as Anakin bites his lip skeptically.

“That’s too- No- what’s the catch?”

“If I win, you have to fall in love- no exceptions.”

“That’s it? Deal. This is too fucking easy.” Anakin shakes his head, picking up his golden bow and tracing the olive branch details on the upper limb.

“May Zeus be on your side, Anakin.” Kenobi holds out his hand for Anakin to shake, sealing their wager.

Anakin takes his hand, his grip firm, letting the eyes of his father, high up in Olympus, confirm the bet.

“You first, Obi-Wan.” Anakin chuckles, picking up an arrow and sharpening the end of it while Obi-Wan takes his stance in front of the tree, his shoulders relaxed, and eyes focused on the target in front of him.

Instant bullseye. Lucky shot.

Anakin says nothing, instead taking his place and shooting without hesitation.

Another instant bullseye. This was going to be closer than he thought.

Anakin’s eyes squint as he watches Kenobi make another bullseye. It’s now 2-1. Since when did Kenobi get so good at archery? Anakin shoots another bullseye, but it’s close, too close. He watches as Kenobi’s brows furrow slightly, his frustration growing alongside Anakin’s arrogance. Did he really think the God of archery would lose a challenge as simple as this?

Obi-Wan shoots his final shot.

Instant Bullseye. Fuck.

He turns around, placing his bow on his back and grinning at the angry God before him.

“May Zeus be on your side, old friend.” He repeats that phrase, eager to remind Anakin what was at stake. As he approaches Anakin to shake his hand, he grins as Anakin dodges it and steps up to the mark.

“Save it, Kenobi. I’m too excited to hear what Hades will do with you after this.”

As Anakin grips his bow, his hands are filled with sudden apprehension. He missed the shot just before Kenobi got here, and his last two were practically just luck, and- Actually, what the fuck is he even on about? He’s the God of archery, for fucks sake. Some measly love God wasn’t going to take this easy victory from him. No way. Anakin pulled an arrow from the sling on his back, letting it sit comfortably between his fingers as he lined up his shot. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his fingers do the work.

And with one swift motion of Obi-Wan’s wrist from behind him, Anakin tripped over a rock.

Miss.

“Wha- I- How? What the fuck did you do?” Anakin turned around, storming over to Kenobi who had his hands innocently raised in the air as he backed away from the angry God once again.

“I did nothing, Anakin. You lost, plain and simple.” Before Anakin had time to react, Obi-Wan’s bow was out again, this time with a red-tipped arrow.

The arrow slipped between Kenobi’s fingers, flying across the grass and into Anakin’s shoulder. He gasped, not in pain, but at the audacity of the God before him.

“Kenobi, this better not be one of your special arrows, or I swear to Zeus-” He grips the arrows, pulling it out of his skin, letting his golden blood drip onto his armor.

“Her name is Y/N. You can find her along the River Lamos. Good luck, old friend.”

And with that, he was gone.

—------------------------------

“Padme! These fucking mortals are pissing in the water again! I mean, how do they even find us out here? This is the furthest north they’ve gone in quite some time.” You let your knees hit the grass, running your fingers through the stream to purify the waters.

Sometimes, you quite hated being a Naiad. It had the perks of a goddess, but not quite the status. And Zeus forbid you ever tried to compare yourselves to a Goddess…

“Y/N, honey, have you ever tried to talk to a mortal? They aren’t the brightest. It’s not their fault Zeus made them that way.” Padme emerges from the waterfall behind you, offering her condolences as she places her hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe we should pray to Ahsoka and have her punish them.”

“Y/N! Don’t be harsh.” Padme’s jaw drops in fake shock, rolling her eyes as she joins you along the riverbed. “Besides, I heard Dionysis is throwing another rager tonight. Let’s focus on that.”

“Yeah, sure,” you mumble, picking up a rock and skipping across the water, avoiding the lilies that littered the surrounding stream.

Padme had always grounded you. You’d probably be lost without her. When you escaped your father as a child, Padme stuck by you in your request for freedom. Your new life, though promising, never quite managed to fill the void that had been there all along. As a Naiad, you felt the weight of responsibility for the ancient world, but the path laid before you was far from what you imagined. Your life was filled with adoration from cult leaders, lavish ceremonies, and the occasional taste of royalty on Mount Olympus - but an emptiness lingered within you. Something that trivial worship and sacrifice wouldn’t fulfill.

“Padme,” you pulled your hand from the water, picking a dandelion next to you and observing it. “Do you ever think about what our life would have been like if we never left Father?” She sighs.

“Y/N, if you’re questioning our decision, let me assure you, we made the right choice. To disobey the calling of such passion… well, I’d rather not debate it. Have honor in what we do, Y/N. We are irreplaceable.” Padme smiles gently at you, the sun bouncing off her chocolate eyes in a particularly irresistible way.

A forced grin stretched across your face, a desperate attempt to conceal your disdain for her reply. Padme had a knack for finding the silver lining - always seeing the good in people and situations, even when things seemed bleak. But it didn’t make the feeling disappear from within you. Every day was the same. The same taking care of the rivers and the forests. The same cults and sacrifices and worships and prayers and celebrations. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, but the truth was undeniable: you felt utterly lonely. You had Padme, but she was your sister, and she was supposed to be there. But as much as it ached you to say… You wanted a lover.

As a devotee of Ahsoka, the Goddess of the Hunt, you pledged your loyalty to her with a sacred vow. To remain pure. Sure, it was silly and not very feminist-positive of Ahsoka, but she was an Olympian. The Olympians were traditional in their ways. And that was something you had to deal with. Or workaround. Ahsoka was stubborn, much like her younger twin brother Anakin, but even though she was a woman, she was treated with the utmost respect and equality. You found yourself constantly drawn to her, admiring her strength and resilience. Every opportunity you had, you would go to her temples, offering your devotion and respect with each visit.

Snap.

Your heads snapped around in unison, your hearts pounding, as you braced for the appearance of an unfortunate mortal who had unknowingly interrupted you. However, standing behind you, bathed in the golden light of the morning sun, was none other than the Sun God himself, Anakin.

“Anakin! Your majesty, to what honor do we have to be graced with your presence?” Padme’s words were honey to your ears, and she quickly pulled you down into a curtesy next to you.

“I came for a Naiad by the name of Y/N.” Your heart dropped. Fuck. “I wish to seek her hand.” Padme turned to you, her eyes wide along with your slacked jaw. What the fuck was happening?

The first thing you noticed was his smile. A self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face, the kind that made his whole body seem to radiate arrogance. Sure, he was attractive; he was an Olympian, after all, but there was something about him you couldn’t stand. There was no mistaking the pretentiousness. You had pictured him with golden hair, but his hair was a surprising chestnut brown, the curls soft and unruly, framing his face like a halo of warm sunlight. The intricate details of his armor were impressive, reminding you of his sister’s. And when your eyes met his, you saw that same hollow emptiness in his gaze, reflecting the void you carried within. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Hopefully, he wouldn’t ruin it by opening his mouth.

“Go!” Padme whisper-shouted next to you, pushing you forward.

“Your majesty,” You cringed at your words.

“Anakin.” He mused, his smirk growing as his eyes lingered on your form. Your wet dress suddenly felt a lot wetter tighter.

“Anakin,” You faked a smile, purely out of fear of what you’d do next. “As much as I am flattered by your offer, I made a sacred vow to your sister that I plan to uphold. I do apologize. I am honored to be considered by you.” He nodded slowly, his smile widening and his eyes holding something mischievous within them.

“You know, Nymph,”

“Naiad- I mean, Y/N.” You stuttered. Padme’s eyes widen as she stomps your foot to shut you up.

“Y/N,” he winks and leans closer, his breath hot on your cold, wet cheek as his mouth is centimeters from your ear. “Normally, I would take what is mine. But you are lucky to be in favor with my sister, and that I love a good challenge. We will see just how much longer you will remain pure, my muse. You are the most beautiful creature I’ve had the privilege of laying my immortal eyes on, and I plan to have you.”

You freeze. A challenge? Who the hell did he think he was?

But before you had time to say anything else stupid, he was gone.

“Are you fucking CRAZY?” Padme grabs you, shaking your body, “You just rejected THE Anakin. Ahsoka’s brother. That’s, like, probably, the only pass you’d ever get not to remain pure. You should have taken it! And Y/N, you cannot speak to him like that! You’re lucky he didn’t just take you with him as prisoner or send you to Hades-”

“Padme! Come on, you heard him. He likes a challenge. It’s obvious that this is far from over.” You trailed off, your mind uneasy at the thought.

Realistically, you had to weigh the pros and cons.

Pros: He was hot. It would give you a higher status. You could have a family. You could be closer with Ahsoka. It would fill the void within you. He could possibly be a good person, maybe even a good lover. He could be the best sex you’d ever had.

Cons: It was Anakin. He’s arrogant and everything you could dislike in a lover. He could potentially ruin your relationship with Ahsoka and create an eternal enemy that would end your life as you know it. He could ruin your life. He could be the best sex you’d ever had.

Fuckkkkkkkkk.

Week after week, Anakin shows unwavering resolve in his pursuits.

The first week, he’d occasionally drop by, leaving nothing but wine and flowers and his sweet, sweet words.

“I’d do anything to make you mine, Y/N. Just one chance.”

“Please, you’re the love of my immortal life. I want nothing but to spend the rest of eternity with you.”

“I can’t get enough of watching you. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Let me be yours, please. I’m so in love with you. It’s killing me.”

Eventually, you began to play along. You loved how his eyes would light up when you gave him hope, but the return of his arrogant smile when you turned him down again made you roll your eyes.

The admission, though loathsome, was undeniable: you were falling for him. You gotta give it to him- consistency was key. But did the cons outweigh the pros? The situation was tricky, and not ideal. If only he were a dumb mortal and not Zeus’s favorite son. And not the brother of a God you’ve spent your entire life worshipping and having a precious oath, too. If only.

The second week saw the gifts become more intense, each one a thrilling surprise. He brought you a beautiful cat, along with some flowers from Olympus to plant near the river. The gesture was sweet, the cat was cute, and the flowers were divine, literally. Although you were tempted, you held your ground, and your answer was a firm, unwavering no.

Anakin's patience was wearing thin by week three, his annoyance growing with each passing day. He thought he had given you everything you could have desired as a river nymph, showering you with gifts that would make any naiad happy. As someone he hoped to share his life with, he offered his heart and devotion. Even though he tried, you were still refusing his advances. He didn’t take you as one for material goods, but who was he to judge? So, he began leaving you jewelry that was unlike anything you'd ever seen, intricate pieces that captured the essence of nature and water in every detail. And, of course, they were all gold. The necklace he had given you was his favorite, a simple gold sun pendant suspended on a chain, worn close to your heart.

“Do you like it, my love?” Anakin held the necklace in your hands, watching your smile grow beneath him.

“Anakin- I- It’s beautiful. I love it. I’ve never owned anything quite like this before.” You smiled up at him, the sunlight reflecting in your eyes in such a way that he’d drown if he looked for too long.

“Would you like me to put it on you?” He whispered, his eyes trailing from your own down to your lips.

“Yes,” You whispered back, allowing him to turn you around and move your hair.

His fingers moved slowly across the back of your neck, their light touch sending shivers down your arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck, and much to your own surprise, you let out a soft moan against his touch. His presence behind you was heavy with insolence, and even though you couldn't see him, you could practically feel his smug grin on the back of your head. He laid the necklace against your chest, and you instinctively reached your hand up to touch it, only to be met with his own as he pulled you closer.

“Y/N,” He groaned softly, resting his forehead upon your shoulder, “Please. I’m in agony.” You hummed against him, leaning back onto his chest as the sunlight washed over your wet skin.

“Ani, I can’t. You know this, baby.” You turned around to face him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for the necklace- I really love it. You’ve been so kind to me.”

He smiled back at you and was gone once again.

During week four, his presence dwindled. He came only a couple of days, mostly just to bring you offerings. This time, he started leaving little love notes instead of his usual visits you had become accustomed to.

My muse,

Every day I do not spend with you is tortuous. You are everything to me. You are the air I breathe, the Sun I worship, the light bringer of my life. I did not know love could be so powerful, so intoxicating, just like you. To me, you are love. You are the physical representation of everything I have ever wanted from this life. I’d give it all up for you. Olympus doesn’t matter if it means I could have you. And if it’s my sister you are worried about, I would have it handled. I would keep you safe and spend the rest of eternity loving you, worshipping you, and making you happy and fulfilled. Please just give me a chance, darling; that is all I ask. I feel ashamed for not coming to see you in person, but I couldn’t bear to look at you. It has only brought me pain and suffering as of late. I know it is not your fault, but you are all I want. I’m not giving up on you yet, but I feel as if maybe some distance would help you. Perhaps I’ve come on too strongly. Too confident. And if it means changing who I am to have you, consider it done.

With love for eternity,

Your Anakin.

As you held the letter in your hands, you barely noticed how your hands shook, and your body trembled. You didn’t see how you instinctively brought the letter to your heart, holding it close as stray tears cascaded down your face. And you certainly didn’t notice Padme’s presence; her soft touch was comforting on your arm as she appeared behind you.

“Honey, you should give him a chance. He’s really trying. I don’t know what that letter says, but for it to evoke that reaction from you, it must be genuine. Unless he plans to kill me or our father, then maybe not so-”

The hug you gave her was warm and tight, a genuine embrace she hadn't felt from you in years. She held you close, the heat from the sun radiating off of the both of you and sending you into more of a frenzy than ever. Even though you couldn't see him, you knew Anakin was watching, and the feeling of his intensity was a constant presence. You felt a strange indifference, a lack of concern that surprised even you. But you just wanted to feel.

By week five, Anakin had stopped appearing altogether, but his presence was still there. Maybe it was when you healed the water, or took care of the plants, or gave an offering to Ahsoka, but it always felt like he was standing right there next to you, offering a helpful hand in your tasks. It seemed that he was beginning to fill that void inside of you. And as much as you desperately wanted that, now that you were so close to having it, the idea terrified you.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” You quietly asked as Padme lit a candle, preparing for another ritual.

“Would you grab the wine and pour the libation, Y/N? I’m afraid we must move on with this for right now.” She smiled gently, attempting to lighten your mood. It didn’t work. The last thing you wanted to do was worship his sister.

As much as you hated it, you did as you were told. You headed further into the cave you and Padme made into the oasis you called home. As you turned the corner into your private quarters, you noticed the wine stacked by your “bed.”

As you and Padme ventured out and stumbled upon your own Oasis, you both set out to personalize it, infusing it with your own unique touch, making it a place you could truly call your own. The cave behind the waterfall was a breathtaking sight - lush green plants carpeted the floor around the river, colorful creatures flitted through the air, and the soft glow of candles danced off the shimmering crystals. The river ran through the cave, a constant source of fresh water, offering a home for you and your sister amidst the silent stone. It was everything you had ever dreamed of. But, as sisters, you both still needed your privacy, so it was made sure that you both had your own private sectors of the cave. Your quarters were filled with treasures you collected from the forest - musical instruments, shiny jewelry, beautiful dresses, furniture in both perfect and broken states, and writing tools. You even brought back random knick-knacks that you saw potential in. One mortal's trash is another Naiad’s treasure.

The sight of the wine on the stool made your stomach churn, as you thought about the God who had given it to you. Would it be weird to worship Ahsoka with the wine her brother declared his love to you over? Probably. You weren’t willing to risk it. Your fingers danced across the cool glass of the bottle, remembering the warmth of his hands as he placed it in yours. Honestly, what was wrong with you? This was wrong. You knew that. You couldn’t possibly love Anakin. And he couldn’t possibly love you. Anakin could have any woman, goddess, nymph, and mortal alike, so why would he choose you out of everyone?

Against all odds, he did. And he kept doing it. His absence had sparked a flicker of doubt within you. And as hard as it was to admit, you missed him.

—----------------------

“Obi-Wan, I cannot do this any longer. She doesn’t love me. Please, take my misery away from me.”

Anakin wasn’t himself. Obi-Wan could see that. Even though it seemed impossible for an immortal being to have bags under his eyes, Anakin somehow managed it. He looked rough. He looked sad. And Obi-Wan genuinely felt for him.

“Tell me more,” Obi-Wan leans back against his chair, stroking his beard as he watched the God fall apart in front of him.

“It seems that nothing has worked. I’ve tried to win her over with lavish gifts, these grand gestures of love. I’ve written her letters, given her space, and told her how I felt- how much I loved her. It-It’s not enough. She doesn’t want me. In all of my years as a God, I have finally found a worthy opponent. And this is a battle I will not win. It is a battle I will never win. I have finally been defeated. Y/N has taken my heart, and I will let her do it a thousand times more for the eternity that we live. My heart belongs to her and her only. She has filled a void within me that I never thought would disappear.” Anakin sits down in the chair beside Obi-Wan, throwing his head into his hands. He lifts his head up to look at the man beside him, and Obi-Wan instantly freezes.

Anakin was crying. The Anakin. Was. Crying. He had never been so deeply affected by anyone before, and the weight of his newfound emotions pressed down on him heavily. Obi-Wan felt a pang of guilt, realizing that his attempt to teach Anakin a lesson had inadvertently caused him immense pain.

But Anakin passed Obi-Wan’s test with flying colors. The deal was that you couldn’t truly fall for Anakin until he finally let go of his pride and broke down the defenses he'd spent years erecting. Only once you have allowed him to be vulnerable and show his authentic self, could you begin to love him back. To see him for what he truly was, yes, he was a god, but he was still a man. A man who had fallen deeply in love with you. A man who was heartbroken, and finally admitted defeat. He had met his match.

“I think you should visit her one last time, Anakin. Maybe say your goodbyes. I’m very sorry I put you through this, old friend.” Obi-Wan flashed him a small smile, earning a nod in response.

“Actually, no need to apologize. You’ve taught me a valuable lesson. For years, I thought that I could never be beaten, and that I was better than anyone, and now I see that even I have challenges I cannot overcome. I have been arrogant. Selfish. And I am truly sorry. Now that I have felt true pain, I cannot imagine the suffering I have caused. I will visit her one last time. She needs to know how she has changed me.”

—-------------------------

The pre-dawn darkness had settled in when Padme left for the meeting on Mount Olympus, the air heavy with anticipation and the rustle of the wind through the trees. What it concerned, you had no idea. But she was always into politics like that, and you respected her for it. She was driven, and despite only being a Naiad, she made sure that her voice was heard and that she spoke for those around her.

You sat along the riverbed, the gentle sound of the water rippling over stones a constant companion, watching as the morning sun rising reflected off of the water and the lilies that lined your stream. The Greek world was so beautiful, and you were so glad that you were able to experience it. You watched the frogs, green and plump, hop from pad to pad, their croaks blending with the splash of the fish swimming in synchronized schools, their scales glinting like silver coins. It was peaceful, and you were thankful for it.

Before you could think about him, you felt him.

“Anakin,” You whispered, feeling his presence behind you. Your eyes began to feel heavy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I am here to say goodbye, my love.” He mumbled from behind you, not daring to move an inch.

“Would you sit with me?” you mumbled, keeping your gaze on the lilies, scared to show your solemn face. He slowly sat next to you, with more space between you than you would have liked.

‘I’m sor-”

“Anakin, I have fallen for you. You have won me over. But, I must admit, I am apprehensive because my loyalty lies with your sister, and I do not want my life to be ruined. I’ve heard too many stories of nymphs falling for a God and being destroyed in the process. I cannot give up my life up like that, and I will not. So, if you truly love me as you say, I need to to swear to me and your father that you will love me and only me for eternity, that you will never abandon me, and that you will give me the family and life that I deserve.” You finally turn your head to face him, your eyes welled with tears as he gazed upon your face, memorizing your features.

“Y/N, I swear upon every God, Goddess, Nymph, Demi-God, and whatever else out there that I will love you for eternity. That you will always have me. And I will continue to show my love, be there for you, and treat you as you deserve. You are priceless and my life as a God means nothing without you.”

You didn’t give him a response, no, he finally deserved a kiss. The one he had been waiting so patiently for.

You pressed your lips fervently against his, eagerly exploring his mouth with your tongue, while your hands became entwined in his hair. Letting out a gentle moan, he deepened the kiss, reveling in the sensation that he never wanted to end. He tasted like figs, sweet and savory, a flavor you could taste for eternity. His tongue eagerly explored yours, a silent struggle for control as he sought to please you. His hand grazed your cheek, holding you against him as if you were a second away from disappearing.

His touch traveled down your neck, finally arriving at your damp, clothed chest, where he tenderly held your breasts, his thumb moving in circular motions on your nipple. Now, it was your turn to moan.

“Baby,” He broke the kiss, holding your forehead against his as you both attempted to catch your breath. You were apprehensive. You had never done this before, and Anakin was intimidating. “Hey, look at me. It’s just me. Let me take care of you- make you feel good. Does that sound okay?”

You looked up to meet his blue eyes, his blown pupils staring into your soul, overflowing with adoration. You nodded slowly in response, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Can I hear you say it, darling?” He whispered against your lips as he peppered small kisses on your cheek and down your chin, reaching your neck. His kisses seared your skin like the sun, feeling warm and holy.

“Anakin, I need you to make me feel good. Please.” You whimpered under his touch, the warmth in between your legs growing wetter by the second. The desperation gnawed at you, a constant hunger that wouldn't be satisfied. You needed Anakin to take what was his- immediately.

He falls on top of you, his weight a welcome force as you pull him down. His kisses rain down on your neck, hot and needy, while his fingers trace the curves of your body, each touch a possessive claim. He presses himself into you ever so slightly, and you moan at the sensation between your legs.

His hand finds its way down your hips, inching closer and closer towards where you really needed it. With a mischievous grin, he carefully pulls up your wet lace dress before planting another sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat as his fingers slowly dance up your legs. His hand snakes up your thighs, rubbing them and pinching them as he continues to control your kiss, his tongue deliberate and delicate against yours. His hand slips under your top and then under the neckline of your dress, teasingly massaging your breasts and nipples. It was an overwhelming feeling, and his bulge growing between your legs didn’t help at all.

Anakin pauses, and you sense a shift in the air, a prickling sensation that raises goosebumps on your arms. You’d never been this close to anyone before. You’ve never let someone touch you in a spot so sacred, so holy. Letting Anakin feel this part of you, touch every inch of your body, it was a new ritual on its own. One you weren’t familiar with. But as a Naiad, you had a duty to uphold. You needed to worship.

‘Do you trust me?” He whispers against your lips, pulling you out of your moment of ecstasy.

“Yes.”

“I will take such good care of you. I’m going to make you feel so good, my love. It may hurt at first, but I need you to trust me. Do you want me to touch you, angel?” You nodded in response, letting out a giggle and soft smile at his sweet words.

“Of course, Ani. Please.” You practically whimpered, watching as his smile grew into the familiar, arrogant one you had met all those weeks ago.

Anakin's hand slowly moves up to your throbbing clit, his fingers gently exploring your wetness, teasing a response from you. He had you completely under his control. It was a foreign feeling, the way he touched you, and yet all you could do was subconsciously push yourself against his fingers, begging for more. Anakin was eager to memorize you. The things that made you feel good, made you squirm, made you moan, and most importantly- made you cum.

“Such a needy thing, aren’t you? Just needed me to take care of you so bad. Needed me to take away that innocence and purity you held above my head for weeks.”

Before you could respond, his thumb aggressively pressed into your clit, rubbing soft circles that evoked noises from you that you didn’t know were possible. You push yourself into him further, laying your head upon his shoulder as you sit upright, suddenly overwhelmed by the pleasure he is giving you. A new fluttering sensation found itself below your stomach, feeling hotter and hotter by the second. The pressure keeps building, as Anakin picks up the pace, watching you with determined, golden eyes. You clutch his arm tighter, squeezing your eyes shut and letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ani- I-” You barely gasped out, the knot in your stomach tightening as you were getting closer and closer to coming undone. As he worked his thumb against your clit faster, he felt the way you grew wetter underneath his touch, the way your hips bucked against him, and the way your legs shook underneath him. He let it go straight to his ego and dick.

“Yeah, angel? You like that? You gonna cum for me now?” He smirks.

“Anakin, I-” Before you knew it, he pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them up against that sweet spot where you didn’t know you needed it most, sending you over the edge. You feel every inch of his fingers against your walls, feeling so stuffed to the brim you burst. Your body convulses beneath him, and his moans mix with yours, both overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm.

“That’s perfect, just like that baby. You’re doing so good, can’t wait until it’s my cock inside you, making you cum and moan like that. Look at how perfect you are. So fucking beautiful.” He mumbles into your ear as he continues to work his fingers faster through your orgasm, practically torturing you with his touch.

You called his name like a prayer, worshiping him as you would any other God. He gave you more than they ever could, and you couldn’t help but moan his name into a new hymn you’d gladly sing over and over again. When you finally come down, he removes his fingers and licks them slowly in front of you, showing how much he truly worships you.

“Fuck, I need to get a taste.” He aggressively pushes your body down against the grass, lifting your dress and pulling your hips against his face.

He licks a long stripe up the side of your thigh, relishing in how loud it’s already making you moan. You feel him smirk against you once again as he places a sloppy, wet kiss against your folds. He licks a stripe down your center, and you instantly get goosebumps as you whimper and whine underneath him. Anakin doesn’t care, no, Anakin wants to make sure you savor every touch, lick, and kiss he has to offer. He flicks his tongue against your clit, slow and deliberately, wanting to feel your reaction against his tongue. Once again, you only grew wetter and he only grew more famished. He finally starts at an increasingly slow pace as he laps against your folds, not giving it to you where you really need it.

To Anakin, licking your clit was the nourishment he didn’t realize he missed. He had never truly been satisfied until his tongue was in between your legs, slowly savoring every fold and taste, never wanting to leave.

“A-Ani, please, I-I need it!” He pauses.

“You don’t know what you need, Angel.” He finally picks up the pace, lapping at your clit at an unrelentless pace, feeling you squirm underneath him. It was overwhelming, and you were bound to cum again any second with the way he was abusing your poor, poor pussy. Finally, the warmth returned, increasing the tension that had been building, and the knot felt like it might unravel any minute. You feel yourself on the edge; just a couple more flicks of his tongue and-

Anakin pulls away, coming over from under you with a wet mouth and nose, a sweet smile spread across his face as he pulls you against his lips.

“You taste so good, yeah? You taste that? Fucking incredible. I could drink you all fucking day.” He mumbles as he continues to hungrily kiss you, his hands holding you down as if you’d escape from him at any second.

As he lifts you upright, his arms effortlessly strip off your dress, leaving you completely exposed. His eyes danced across your skin, tracing every curve and line, drawn to the intoxicating glow your body had in his sunlight. He unconsciously started taking his own clothes off, his eyes never leaving your panting, wet figure beneath him.

As soon as his cock sprung out, you felt your breath catch in your throat. He was fucking huge. His cock was long, thick, and veiny, a beautiful pink color that would fill you up so good. He stroked it in his hands slowly, and your eyes finally made their way back to his, your mouth slightly agape in shock. He smiled at you sweetly, his hand never leaving his cock as he started to stroke a little faster, letting out a small moan as his eyes gazed upon your beautiful naked body on the riverbed.

“Come here beautiful, no need to be afraid. I’ll take such good care of you.” Anakin pulls you closer to him, positioning himself between your legs. He slaps the tip of his cock against your folds a couple of times, and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “This part is going to hurt a little bit, okay? I promise I will never ever hurt you, but this will sting. If you need me to stop, tell me. We can take this as slow as you want. Ready, Angel?”

You divert your attention from his cock outlining you to his eyes and his soft, sweet smile. It’s no wonder that you fell in love with him, truly. He was the better of the Gods, but it was so, so easy to fit him in with the rest. Were you worried he was going to taint you and then leave? Absolutely. Did you want to change anything about the moment?

“Yes, I’m ready. I’m nervous, but-“ You take a second to cup his cheek, letting yourself smile underneath him, “I trust you, Anakin.”

With your approval, Anakin slowly pushed his thick tip into your small, virgin pussy. He groaned at the contact, watching as you let out a painful, pleasurable moan from the feeling. He filled you so entirely, so completely, that the emptiness inside you vanished, replaced by a sense of wholeness you never thought possible. He grinned at the way his cock bulged from inside you, knowing that he was going to split you in half and make you scream his name again. He could never get enough of the way his name rolled off your tongue, the way you lingered on each syllable, your back arched in pleasure as you called out for him.

“H-How are we doing down there?” He barely groans out, tracing your cheek with his finger, “Fuck, I can barely contain myself right now.”

“I-I’m okay. It stings, but I want you to keep going- I need you to keep going.” You pull yourself up slightly, putting your hands around his shoulders and pulling him further into you. He was so deep, so intoxicating as he filled you up. You kiss him, burying your tongue down his throat to silence your painful moans. It hurt so bad, but you couldn’t get enough of him. You needed more.

“Fuck, Y/N, that was so fucking hot. Can I fuck you? Please? You feel too good.”

You could barely manage a whispered "yes" before Anakin thrust himself into you with full force, slamming his cock into your cervix. You let out a loud scream, never feeling so full and overwhelmed at the same time. With his free hand, he brought his thumb back down and massaged your clit in small, rhythmic circles, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He made sure to keep checking on you as he fucked you relentlessly, watching how your head bobbed and your eyes rolled as you took him so good. You had heard stories about how “God sex” was another level, but you didn’t think it’d be this fucking good.

As he felt you grip around him tighter, he slowed down, suddenly wanting to take his time more than he had before. His eyes softened at the sight of you. Your cheeks flushed and tear-stained, your entire body wet and glistening under his sun, his own saliva dripping down your chin as you let out soft moans from his slow thrusts. You were mesmerizing, you deserved to be worshipped. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“I want us to cum at the exact same time, okay? Solidify our bond together. I want us to reach that point together. You let me know exactly when you are going to cum.” He whispered against your lips, pumping his thick cock and holding back a groan.

The slowness of his movement was torturous, his brows furrowing as he watched you below him, each agonizing inch he pushed into you taking what felt like an eternity. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but he had a way of making you feel like the most incredible fucking thing in all of the Greek world. You look down and watch as his thick cock slowly pushes himself into you, memorizing his every vein and freckle. He continues to impale you over and over again, groaning and moaning your name like his own prayer. The squelching of your wetness and the way he moved his hips was making that pressure return from before, except it was seeking a vengeance this time.

Anakin picks up the pace as your cries grow louder, watching your body language and responding the best way he could. He played with your tits as they bounced from the forcefulness of his cock against your cervix. The knot in your stomach returned, the pressure building more and more- eager to explode.

And as you felt your orgasm coming on, your hips bucking up against his, your cries and moans increasing, you finally opened your eyes and looked at the God above you. The sun highlighted his face like it was made for him, his hair and eyes golden under the light. His collarbone and abs shimmered, a mixture of sweat and juices making him glisten above you. He really was a god, a beautiful and misunderstood creature who wanted nothing more than to love and be loved. And in that moment, you’d give it to him.

“A-Anakin, I’m gonna- I-“

“That’s right, baby, I’m close too, push me over the edge, yeah? Make me fill you up so good and full with my Godly cum. You can do this, baby, please-“ He cut himself off with a groan, feeling your walls squeezing tighter against him, your body, golden from his sun, trembling underneath him.

“Ani- I- Fuck- I-I love you!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, the band snapped and your walls were pulsating around him. Your moans were loud, your back arched into him as you heard him curse and groan from atop you, his cock cumming deep inside you, making you his, and making him yours. He memorized the tears as they streamed down your cheek from your orgasm, your eyes squeezed shut as you were filled to the brim with pure ecstasy.

Anakin pulled out, collapsing on the grass next to you as you both attempted to catch your breath.

“Y/N, y-your- that- that was the most fucking incredible experience I have ever had.” He barely breathed out, still coming down from the orgasm you gave him.

As you caught your breath, you rolled onto your side to look at him once again, the beauty of the sun god as he lay by your river.

“You aren’t leaving now, are you?” You whisper, your eyes solemn as you trace your initials on his chest.

“Never, baby. You’re stuck with me for eternity.” Anakin beamed at you, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he pulled you on top of him into another deep kiss.

“Wait, Ani-“ You pulled away, noticing eyes were etched with concern and you let out a little giggle, “I have something I wanted to give you. Since you’ve given me all of those gifts before and- well- I meant to give it to you earlier but we got so caught up in things.” You blush under his gaze, your nerves catching up to you as you thought about your gift.

“Angel, you didn’t have to do that. But I promise I will cherish whatever you give me for the rest of time. Lemme see.”

You stand up from beside him, watching as he lay naked against your riverbed as if he had always belonged there. Except now he did. Your cheeks flushed as you turned away from him to walk to the laurel tree, feeling his eyes on you.

Your hand reached up to a branch, pulling it from the tree and snapping it off, your heart aching at your actions. As you walked towards Anakin, the laurel branch transformed into a crown under your skilled hands, its leaves shimmering with the soft light of your Naiad magic.

“I wanted to give you a piece of me, because I know that you have other responsibilities and I won’t always get to see you.” You placed the crown upon his head, before taking his hands within yours, “That laurel tree made me pick this spot. It’s always been my favorite. This crown will never die, and the leaves will never fall, it is eternal- just like our love.”

A radiant smile spread across Anakin’s face as happy tears welled up in his eyes. He enveloped you in a tight hug, and you could feel the warmth of his affection. His fingers traced the contours of your back, a lingering touch, as he whispered his thanks, each word laced with a desperation that made your heart ache. It was strange how you got here, but yet you had found that missing piece. You didn’t expect him to be the God of the Sun, Zeus’s favorite, or anything like that. To you, he was just your Anakin. Your sweet, sweet Anakin.

“I thought I’d be searching for eternity throughout the Greek world for a love like this. And yet, you were brought to me.” Anakin pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as the weight of his words came down on the both of you, “Our love is eternal.”

“Our love is eternal.”

[33lol]

Leg Day

Pazzi (paige x azzi)

SMUT

warnings: oral, fingering, scissoring, pet names, fluff, first time

MDNI

wc: 2.4k

Being best friends for years now, Paige and Azzi have now moved in together to their new apartment after both being drafted to the same WNBA team.

One afternoon Paige is lounging on the couch in their living room when Azzi trudged through the door with a groan after coming from the gym.

“Ugh, my legs feel like Jello. I don’t think I can walk.”

Paige giggles at this, knowing Azzi to be a bit dramatic at times, but she loves it regardless.

Getting up from the couch, Paige walks over to the front door. “Get on my back, baby. I’ll carry you to your bed.”

Azzi felt a slight blush creep up her neck as this is a typical Paige thing to do. “No it’s okay I was being dramatic. You don’t have to carry m—”

Paige doesn’t even let Azzi finish her sentence before she scoops her off her feet and carries her bridal style to her room.

Azzi breaks into giggles hiding her face in the crook of Paige’s neck, “Paige! I said you didn’t have to!”

“I don’t care. My princess gets what she deserves.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Azzi gets out through her giggles with no real bite to it.

Paige kicks the door open to Azzi’s room with her foot and throws Azzi on the bed like she weighs nothing.

“Do you want a massage mama?”

“Wait, actually?”

“I don’t kid around when it comes to the princess”

Azzi rolls her eyes while not being able to hide her smile, “That actually sounds amazing. It was leg and glute day and I may have overworked myself.”

Paige smiles and walks to get some lotion. “Lay on your stomach.”

Azzi listens and flips over while watching her best friend who knows how to always take care of her. She couldn’t help but feel her face get warm that this thought.

Paige comes back over and playfully smacks Azzi butt before she climbs on top of it to sit.

Azzi giggles once again and hides her face in the sheets. Paige smiles at her shy gesture but to ease Azzi’s mind a bit she leans over her to peck kisses all over her back. “Just relax okay?”

Azzi, while still in her daze, turns her head to the side to acknowledge Paige while she barely croaks out an “okay.”

Paige pumps the lotion onto her hands and rubs it between her hands to warm it up. She starts on Azzi’s back but realizes her sports bra is in the way of her getting everywhere. Paige freezes in her movements with her hands under her bra straps not knowing if she should ask if Azzi wants it off. Azzi feels the pause and senses Paige’s indecision. Without thinking much of it, Azzi lifts up just enough to tug off her sports bra.

Paige suddenly feels her face get red and can feel her heart beat faster. They’ve given each other massages before, but not to this level of intimacy.

The two have always been overly touchy with each other and have always used pet names. It has always just been an unspoken thing that their dynamic was different from anyone else.

Trying to focus again, Paige starts really getting into Azzi’s muscles.

As Paige made her way across Azzi’s back, Azzi let out small groans and “mm that feels so good” here and there. But when Paige hits a particular spot, Azzi lets out a soft whimper.

Azzi immediately hides her face in the sheets again, while Paige continues trying to ignore how that small noise her best friend just made had her stomach doing backflips.

Paige leans down near her ear and says in a low voice, “I’m gonna start on your legs, okay?”

“Mhm,” is all Azzi can get out while still hiding her face in embarrassment.

Paige gets more lotion and starts rubbing low on Azzi’s calves. Azzi continues letting out soft “mm’s” in acknowledgment of the power of how good Paige’s hands feel on her body.

When Paige gets higher onto her thighs, Azzi starts breathing a little heavier, trying to not think about the heat she feels pooling in her underwear. Paige remembers Azzi mentioning it was also glute day and knows she’s probably sore there too. She once again pauses below her shorts. Azzi again feels the pause and reassures, “It’s okay. You can touch me, you know that right?”

Paige felt her face go hot and her heart feel like it was about to explode. She huffs out a light giggle and says back, “Just trying to be respectful.”

“You always are.”

Paige can’t help the smile that crawls on her face when she hears that. She leans down to ask Azzi, “Shorts on or off?”

“Uhh…whatever is easier I guess”

Paige lowers her voice, “Is it okay if I take them off, Az?”

Azzi nods, “Yeah, P”

Paige hooks her fingers into the waistband of Azzi’s shorts and slowly slides them over the curve of Azzi’s ass. Paige heard Azzi’s breath shudder and felt her own slick start to pool.

“Is this okay, baby”

Azzi nodded with her face still hidden in the sheets. Paige leaned into her ear, “Can you use your words for me?”

Azzi tilts her head toward Paige to look at her, “Yeah.. you’re good P.”

Paige sees her face is flushed and thinks I’ve never seen her look more beautiful. Paige looks her in the eye and says, “You tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

Azzi nods at her but then sees the stern look in Paige’s eyes reminding her to use words. “Okay.”

Paige gives a kiss to Azzi’s forehead before moving back down Azzi’s body. When Paige reaches Azzi’s ass she starts kneading into the muscles while alternating with long squeezes. She notices Azzi holding her breath, but ignores it for now. Paige works her way to Azzi’s inner thighs. She slightly nudges at Azzi’s leg, signaling for her to spread them a bit wider. Azzi felt the most vulnerable she’s ever been with Paige.

Paige got pretty high on the inside of Azzi’s thigh, just shy of the place that is throbbing to be touched. When she massaged there, Azzi couldn’t help but let out a high, breathy moan. Paige felt more of that heat circle in her stomach. “Can I keep going?”

Azzi swallowed hard and let out her words in a higher tone than she meant for, “Yes”

Paige inched higher and then higher, listening to Azzi let out shaky breaths and soft whimpers, until she hovered her fingers right over Azzi’s slit covered by only her tiny black thong. Paige feels how wet Azzi is and immediately feels her own slick drip down her thighs.

Azzi let a small gasp escape her lips but didn’t stop Paige either.

“Is this from me, mama?

Azzi nods with her head still in the sheets from embarrassment.

“Azzi baby, I wanna hear you.”

Azzi lifted so she could rest on her elbows and look at Paige more directly, who was now looking slightly down at her while still not having moved her hand.

Azzi bit her bottom lip while looking at Paige’s big blue eyes that looked so full of love and care. “Yes it’s from you P.”

Paige felt her heart skip about ten beats before she moved her fingers over Azzi’s heat. Paige rubbed the wetness seeping through all around while still maintaining eye contact with Azzi. They both didn’t realize how close their faces had shifted until Paige felt Azzi exhale against her lips sharply with a whimper right after.

“Paige…”

“What mama?”

Azzi wonders if this is a dream or some insane coma she is in to be in this position. She sighs softly, “I need you so bad.”

Paige thought she’d never hear those words come out of Azzi’s mouth. She’d dreamt of it more times than she would admit, but never thought the day would come. “I got you baby. Can I?”

Paige hooks her fingers into Azzi’s thong asking to take it off.

“Yes please”

Paige smiles and gently flips Azzi onto her back so that she is in between her thighs. Azzi covers her face with her arm to hide her blushing. Paige moves her arm saying, “Don’t hide please. Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t be shy. Don’t be afraid. I want to see you—all of you. You are the most beautiful and sexy woman, Azzi”

Azzi whimpers at these words

Paige taps Azzi’s hip to have her lift up. She slides off Azzi’s underwear and rubs her hands along Azzi’s thighs. She takes in her best friend, whom she’s always thought was the most beautiful person alive for the first time like this in front of her. Paige reaches for her own shirt, exposing her toned stomach—where Azzi’s eyes immediately go. She then pulls off her sports bra, leaving her bare in front of Azzi. Azzi’s mouth falls open, lips parted, “Fuck Paige you’re perfect.”

Paige slides off of Azzi briefly to quickly tug off her boxers—leaving her completely bare. Azzi reaches for Paige to come back to her, “I want all of you, you’re so beautiful P.”

Paige blushes and leans down until their faces are inches apart.

“What do you want, Azzi?”

Azzi swears she could cum just from hearing Paige talk.

“I want you, P. I need you. Whatever you’ll give me.”

Paige feels her heart break in a way from how desperate Azzi sounds—not in a guilty way— but in a way that makes her realize she wishes they had done this sooner.

Paige confesses, “I’ll give you whatever you want mama. I’d give you the world.”

Paige runs her hand over Azzi’s collarbone listening to her beautiful breaths, then moves slowly down her chest to take one of her nipple between her fingers. She leans down to suck on her tit while cupping the other one in her other hand.

Azzi arches into her and tugs Paige’s hair, keeping her head as close at possible.

Paige uses her tongue to flick and swirl Azzi’s nipple then pulling off with a popping sound. She moves to the other one, leaving a hickey while she’s at it. Paige looks up into Azzi’s glossy doe eyes and leans in to kiss her soft.

Azzi pulls away and throws her head back when Paige moves one of her hands in between Azzi’s folds and over her clit—running her fingers slowly but precise. Paige leans her head down by Azzi’s ear whispering sweet nothings,

“I want you to feel everything”

“I’ve never seen someone this beautiful”

“You are perfect in every way”

“So good for me mama”

“Relax baby, I got you”

Azzi closes her eyes at Paige’s worship, “Paige…”

“I know baby, just want you to feel appreciated. I want to take my time.. wanna savor you.”

Azzi moans at this, and in turn Paige dips two fingers into Azzi’s cunt, feeling her slick drip down her hand. “I wanna be the only one to have you like this. You’re mine.”

Azzi nods immediately and Paige starts pumping her fingers in and out of Azzi’s pussy at a steady rhythm. Azzi locks her eyes with Paige taking in the intimacy they are sharing for the first time.

“P you feel so good. You make me feel so good.”

Paige kisses down Azzi’s neck, under her jaw, biting her ear softly and leaving a wet trail from her tongue. “I love hearing you mama”

Paige pumps her fingers faster, curling in just the right spot to make Azzi arch hard into Paige’s chest. Azzi moans loudly into Paige’s ear and Paige groans from hearing how beautiful she sounds. Paige uses her thumb to circle Azzi’s clit with an addicting pressure while curling her fingers.

Azzi is rambling nonsense at this point,

“Mmphh P”

“Oh my god please Paige”

“Harder—please—ahh”

Paige lets out her own moans just from hearing Azzi beg.

Paige kisses Azzi hard letting her tongue linger for a second before kissing her way down Azzi’s body. Keeping her fingers inside Azzi, Paige licks where Azzi needs her most, giving a soft kitten lick to Azzi’s swollen clit now.

“Fuck—P”

Paige closes her mouth fully around the bud now and sucks hard while flicking her tongue across it. Azzi moans at a high pitch that makes Paige groan against her. While fucking her fingers into Azzi—curling them just right, along with the vibrations from Paige’s mouth, Azzi is right on the brink of her orgasm. Paige can sense Azzi is close to her release when her cunt starts tightening around her fingers. At this Paige pulls away slowly, kissing up the sides of Azzi’s thighs, not letting her release happen quite yet.

“What—“

“Shh baby, I got you. I just want to feel you, while you feel me when you come.”

Paige adjusts herself so she’s straddling her legs across Azzi’s to where she can line up their cunts. Paige holds Azzi’s legs open, with one braced on her shoulder. As Paige lowers herself, they both let out loud and aggressive moans. Azzi lets a tear fall from the overstimulation and her orgasm being drug out for so long, but at the same time it’s not enough. Their clits line up and Azzi is almost immediately right where she left off in her climax before. Paige has already been sopping wet and dripping herself just from getting Azzi off so she feels everything so fast.

It only takes Paige a few grinds and her leaning down to kiss Azzi before they are both cumming.

“Daddy—uhh—feels so good”

“I know princess I’m right there with you”

They feel each other’s cum on their own pussy, and look down at the mess between them. They can’t help but watch for a few seconds before Paige flops next to Azzi, pulling her in tight to her chest. “I meant what I said.. you’re mine.”

“I always have been”

“I love you mama”

“And I love you P”

“Wanna shower or just lay here for a bit?”

Azzi tucks herself further into the crook of Paige’s neck, murmuring “Mmm I can’t move”

Paige breathes a giggle and runs her hands down Azzi’s spine, “Okay baby, just let me love on you then”

Azzi smiles and hums and Paige kisses the top of Azzi’s head. The two drift off into the best sleep they’ve had in a while.

[loveabunbun]

; CHOI SOOBIN 🐰 after hours

— cw; age gap (5ish yrs), professor soobin, student athlete reader, unbalanced power dynamics, clubbing, alcohol, public/bathroom sex, intoxicated sex, top male reader, sub bottom soobin, big dick sb and reader 🙌🏾, sex toys (butt plug), blowjob (sb), protected anal (a first??), belly bulging. 5k words.

— 🎶 now playing; kehlani - after hours, tomorrow x together - love language, destin conrad - kissing in public.

once you noticed him in the crowd of moving bodies, you simply couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

him being choi soobin, currently a young visiting professor at your institution, having just completed his phd in sociology and education, and one your lecturers in particular. soobin’s large frame isn’t out of place among all the others. in fact, you think the number has grown since he made his way to the centre. an attention stealer.

it’s the same as when you’re sat in his lecture: he’s captivating when he talks, enticing when he moves, and irresistible all around. he brought the youthful masculine charm the department severely lacked. and, of course, all the girl students desperately latched onto the eye-candy.

he was here. at a nightclub. and not just any random nightclub, a popular gay nightclub in the city centre. it’s a delightfully pleasant surprise. your margarita burns as you finish the glass. the warm daylight filtering in through the windows of your classroom has been replaced with the cool of the moon from the warehouse's skylight. and with the transition, it seems a new side has emerged. a new side to you, at the very least.

his glasses aren’t to be found, dark hair styled up and back to reveal his forehead and eyes more clearly. his knitted jumper and slacks switched out for a blue baby tee and jeans. you can’t quite make out what it says under the strobe lights.

being completely honest, your attention is on other parts of his body. the tequila trickles into your bloodstream and you can feel your heartbeat revived in different places. he doesn’t appear to have a dancing partner — you’ve had an eye on him for a few minutes and spotted him laughing with what appeared to be a friend as they goofed around.

your own friends are also on the dance floor. your legs are taking you closer soon enough. you sway with the beat of the song as you push through the bodies, eyes locked onto your target.

what your goal is you’re not even sure of. nothing could happen, anyway — you tell yourself— you’re his student. if only a few years younger. soobin exuded ‘model faculty’ with his polite smile and gentle giant demeanour. you're sure even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t risk his budding career for some dick.

although he would give something else up for it. why else would he be surrounding himself with drunk men, more likely than not looking for sexual respite. you weren’t that much younger than him, really. around five years, if you remembered his age correctly? but a minor blip in the universe's grand scheme.

now you’re right behind him.

he moves even better up close. swaying his body, throwing his hands up in the air with the beat of the song. carefree. it’s hard to keep your wonder at bay. you’re not thinking straight as you step closer, and let your hands ghost his waist. high enough not to get you immediately elbowed in the stomach.

soobin isn’t surprised when someone sneaks up behind him. although he came with zero expectations, the young man was starting to doubt his abilities. without turning to look at the new presence, he backs up into you. your heart leaps in your chest. he was waiting for someone. for this. you bite your lip in to hide how your cheeks pull up from the feeling of your professor's soft ass against your groin. fortunately, the lights were concentrated elsewhere for the time being.

the pop song playing is punctuated with strong percussion, gifting you with the tempo you needed to move in rhythm with him. fortunately, you know the lyrics to this one and find yourself getting lost in the sensations. you would’ve hated to see someone else behind him. even now, you can feel jealous eyes on you. it only makes you pull him closer, meeting him at various points of contact where which you can feel his body moves against you.

your scent washes over him and he welcomes the new smell of your cologne. he had yet to go nose-blind to the overwhelming scent of testosterone-filled body odour. maybe you would be his ticket out of the crowd.

whatever. soobin puts an end to his overthinking. or rather, the liquor flowing through his veins does. he just wants to feel good. just wanted to dance and let loose. it’s been too long.

his runs his hands down his front sensually before they meet yours on his hip. he drags your hands up on his body; they catch his shirt on the ascend and you momentarily feel the sweat on his damp skin. you can’t focus on it, because at the same time soobin rolls his hips onto you.

damn, he moved his body so well. you would’ve never thought the shy man had it in him. but you’re learning more about him by the second. you follow along with his smooth moves without any delay, determined to not mess up.

and fumble the bag you don't. looks of intrigue and desire join the envious. soobin’s friends throw him teasing grins and immature winks. he ignores them. all he can think about is how well-oiled your tall body feels against him, lithe yet sturdy. it stirs a primal need within him. something almost foreign to him at that point.

when the next song ends, soobin spins around with a happy grin on his face. he had to know who the suave cutie was behind him.

your grip loosens. before you can duck away, you’re making direct eye-contact. he's confused at first, but then his eyes widen in recognition, straightening up like he’d been struck by lightning.

shit.

“yn??”

“h-heyy, prof.”

soobin gawks at you, not knowing where to begin. his student was just grinding on him. he was just grinding on his student, and he liked it. he wanted more. his integrity! his reputation! his future!

the crowded dance floor suddenly feels stark empty, and the multi-coloured lights stop their orchestrated twirl, replaced by a stationary, bright spotlight. focused on the two of you.

he needed to get out of sight. grabbing your wrist, soobin drags you behind him until you’re stumbling into one of the bathrooms. he waits for an explanation, with a hard look on his face that tells you: you fucked up.

you stare at your shoes, shuffling in place. he was intimidating when he wanted to be. and you were, admittedly, in the wrong, “i’m sorry i came onto you."

“no, you’re not.”

your head shoots up. it was a poor apology, but you weren't expecting him to call you out on it. because, true, you weren’t really. you’re not sorry because you’ve got jacking off material for like the next couple of years. but more sorry because you’re not sure he would’ve reciprocated if he knew who you were. not very consensual of you...

“what on earth were you thinking?” it’s like he could read your mind.

“i wasn’t. that, i apologise for. can you blame me?” soobin sees how your gaze trails his body with your reply. it reveals what instead you had in mind — his broad shoulders sloping into a small waist and slim hips. shapely legs clad in jeans and ending in stylish sneakers.

wild and wonderful.

“seeing you here threw me off a little, prof.” you continue, meeting his eyes once again. his eyelids and cheeks shimmer iridescent in the light. you couldn’t tell before, mistaking the glow for sweat in the suffocating horde. but it was deliberately placed highlight. looks like your young instructor knew how to get dolled up.

soobin felt the same; it was weird seeing you in a place like this. even though you were probably a regular. or a more regular than he was, at least.

…maybe it wasn’t so weird. after all you were attending the city's university as a student. specifically, both a promising basketball athlete and a top scholar for your class. soon to graduate, matter of fact. he's sure you've scoped the lay of the land over your time.

what was new was seeing you in something other than athletic wear. you looked good, donning a loose button down and black jeans, surprisingly more handsome than you usually did in your everyday comfort. you were dressed to impress too, that’s for certain, with your inhibitions loosened after a few shots.

the older had also been drinking. stronger stuff than usual; his friends wanted to spoil him, to celebrate the rare occasion of him crawling out his hole home. soobin would be lying if he said he wasn’t having a fun time.

“i don’t usually come out. and quit it with the prof — while we’re here. anything else.”

hook.

you tilt your head as you look at him, feeling your normal dynamic shift with the new location. and the request for less formality. you toss the bait: “yeah... i didn’t take you for the party type. does hyung work for you? instead of mr wild and wonderful?”

soobin can’t hide when his eyes sparkle in interest at your fluent english. he knew you were smart, but the casual flex takes him aback. so does realising you know exactly what the wording insinuates. he never expected it would be you picking up the hint.

he loathes to complain. of course, he pays a little more attention to you when you’re sat at your desk — attending to his words, sending messages on your device, or talking to your friend. you're enticing without meaning to be. your frequent insightful contributions made up for where you lacked in other efforts. he’d only ever seen you in the daylight. the shadows that fall on your face now bring out another side to you.

line.

the race of his heart comes back, but not in fear this time. in excitement. the professor had never entertained the idea more than a passing thought but now he’s tempted. the plug sitting between his cheeks becomes noticeable again for the first time since he put it in before leaving his home. not for any particular reason…

he shouldn’t.

“been said i can get a little crazy outside the classroom.”

oh! that’s not— soobin’s thick lips purse in shock at his words. sober thoughts?

“yeah?” a smirk appears on your face as you take a bold step forward, throwing a look around the restroom in faux enquiry. your boyish playfulness has a way of keeping him in place. “doesn’t look like we’re in the classroom right now... from what you said, this sounds like my area of expertise.”

oh, you’re good. pulling him into your dangerous game like a siren into the depths. he doesn’t even know when your hearts started thumping against each other, his hand on your arm.

“then, maybe you could teach me the ropes. show me how it goes?” comes his breathy whisper, eyes narrowed in seduction.

and sinker.

you push him into the stall furthest form the entrance and lock the door behind you. his back hits the wall with a thump and he gasps, looking at you with surprised eyes when you press into his front deliberately, strong hands back on his hips.

soobin has much more to lose than you, and you respect that. you give him time to change his mind, to slip out from underneath you and put the earlier events under lock and key. he doesn’t. a beat passes and then another. the muffled music matches the atmosphere. muted, on the verge of breaking the silence.

the door opens and upbeat chords slice through the air like a whip. a few voices dance just over the top, boisterous and joyful on the way to release. soobin surges forward and captures your lips.

you groan instantly, desire roaring inside you once again at his initiating. his hands grasp at your shoulders as you kiss him harder, licking at his lips until he lets you in. you can’t get enough as you suck on his tongue. soobin feels your fingers hook into his belt hoops and tug. your hips start to move in their own, bucking into his front.

the friction pulls a deep sigh from you onto his pretty lips, “hyung,”

his breath hitches. if soobin was somehow still on the fence about doing this, hearing you moan for him was the final push he needed. he wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you closer, letting his hunger lead the way.

he can taste the tangy lime on your lips and can smell the faint liquor when you pull away from his lips, only to trail down to his neck. you kiss the soft skin. his smell is intoxicating too.

before you get lost in yourself, the older man warns quickly, “no marks.”

like some dirty secret. it turns you on even more. you know it does for him too. “got it,”

you press against him harder, dipping into his neck and licking the sweat off. you nibble and lick at his salty skin, rocking your hips against him in fervour. his chub hardens under your ministrations and he moans shyly by your ear.

a small creak and the dj’s booming voice fills your ear, indiscriminate and accompanied by cheers of the audience. then you’re alone again.

soobin kicks up a leg and hooks it around your waist, getting leverage to fuck into you. one of his hands drops from behind your neck to in front, urging you closer with a firm grip. can't have you thinking you're in charge here. even as you grope at his body, humping him like a dog in a rut.

the desperation sets him alight. the fire consumes you. or maybe it’s the alcohol. maybe it's the risk. you needed him. right now.

"hyung, can-can i suck you off?"

soobin's face explodes with heat at your request. he nods before he realises, biting his bottom lip. you fall to your knees even quicker, nuzzling into his bulge. he can't help as his hips flit into your face, large hands coming to rest on your head.

he doesn't push or pull you away, but you gaze up at him through your lashes. his dick swells with blood and tents his jeans. it sticks out like a sore thumb against your handsome face and exacerbates its presence. he can’t stop staring your puffy lips, mesmerised as they slick and shine with his spit.

soobin swallows, starting to shake his head as reality sets in again, fighting against the sexual demand rousing in his gut. this was too far and extremely inappropriate. one of his most sought-out students literally on their knees in a filthy stall in even sleazier settings, begging for a taste. there was no going back after this.

he shouldn’t.

"wait, you're drunk yn." your hands come to fiddle at his belt, the other rubbing his dick through his jeans. you can feel yourself salivate at the heat it exudes.

"i'm not drunk, 'm tipsy. you might not know it because of the generation gap, but there's a difference." he rolls his eyes.

“i’m not drunk either,”

“then we’re both on the same page. been thinking about this cock since the start of term. everyone wants a piece of you, hyung. i want it."

his body betrays him, cock throbbing below your palm at the confession. you grin wickedly. you finally manage to tug down his jeans and boxers enough for his length to fall out. your jaw falls slack in surprise as you take him in your hands. “fucking big, oh my god.”

soobin blushes further at your vulgarity. you kiss at his cockhead before dragging your tongue underneath to taste his arousal. your hand grasps the base as you take him into your mouth. his grip tightens.

you let your saliva build to make the entrance smooth, gazing up at your attractive professor. he stares down at you in disbelief. he twitches in your mouth and your eyes flutter shut in satisfaction, taking him deeper. soobin pulls up his shirt, exposing his chiselled stomach, to watch as his dick disappears between your thick lips.

“ohh~,” he sighs, other hand curling into a fist at the warmth of your mouth. his hips jerk like he doesn’t know whether to pull out or go further.

you can’t help but moan at the feeling. this was so hot. he was so hot. a part of you couldn't believe he was single. and you couldn’t care less about the mysterious wet spot you started to feel on your right knee.

you quickly start bobbing your head up and down, dragging broken moans from the older man. pleasure cracks down his spine as the devil on his shoulder cackles in glee. you fist the base of his dick, covering what you couldn't fit into your mouth.

“oh my— s-slow down yn, fuuck,” the lewd wetness of your mouth bounces off of your ears, his sweet moans only spurring you on. you don’t think you’ve given such enthusiastic head in your life. the taste of his salty precum trickling down your tongue is only a welcome boost for your endeavours.

you hum and soobin feels his eyes rolling back in pleasure at the vibration around his shaft, fucking into your hollow moist despite his better judgement. you can feel as your dick strains against your jeans, crying for attention but you pay it no mind.

“yeah, just like that… you’re soo good, ha-ah!” soobin’s thighs shake by your head as he falls further into bliss with every obscene slurp coming from your skilled lips, fingers curling into your hair. he’s almost forgotten where he is: lucky for him it seems right now isn’t peak time for the drunken pissers.

you push yourself closer to him in response to his praise, until you’re almost directly underneath his body, and swallow your gag reflex. if it weren’t for his jeans, you would’ve had his thighs wrapped around your head. from where you are gravity pulls soobin’s throbbing length further into your tight throat with ease, leaving no space for him to get away even with his long legs. he wouldn’t want to anyway.

the sound of you finally gagging around his thick cock, your fingers on his thigh and ass urging him deeper, is enough for him.

he releases into your mouth with a loud gasp and a whiny groan, curling over your body as pleasure racks his body. your eyes squeeze shut as his bitter cum fills your mouth and swallow rapidly, moaning endlessly around your professor’s squirting dick. the excess spills from your lips when you pull away to breathe.

the older pants above you too and his shirt drops. it sticks to his sweaty skin and is too short to hide his arousal, sparking in the barely burning light with your spit and his sperm. leaning forward again, you guzzle down his cock to slurp up the remains. he welcomes the extra attention with a lazy smile.

“shit, that was..”

“best head you’ve ever had?” your eyes shine when you look up at him lying against the wall like he had all the strength stolen from him, cheeks rosy. soobin tears his gaze from you as you run your tongue over your tempting lips, teeth appearing with your pleased grin. innocent like the both of you weren’t on the verge of a lifetime ban from the club and probably academia in general on his end.

“s’up there,”

a couple of seconds pass and he realises you still need to be taken care of. his next move is only given a second of consideration as his critical thinking cap finally gets tossed out the window — the young man had already passed the point of no return as soon as the both of you walked into the stall.

soobin spins around to face the wall and pushes his jeans down to his ankle. he bends over slightly and spreads open his cheeks, revealing to you his asshole. where a black plug sits comfortably.

your gulp is audible as you make eye-contact with the toy. but you push past your shock to reach up and grasp it, watching soobin's back flex as you poke and prod at his squishy insides.

"t-take it out," you do so instantly, greeted with the sight of his puckered rim, wet and pulsing. suddenly you were starving again. before you can dive in, after setting the plug down on the toilet tank, soobin speaks up again, "do you have a condom?"

no fucking way.

"y-yeah, yeah, i do." after rustling in your front pocket, heart thumping in your chest, you pull out a shiny rectangle.

"fuck, what are you waiting for then? put it on, get inside me," he demands. it lacks the authority his booming voice usually holds, laced with lust and a neediness that makes you dizzy.

you scramble to your feet, apparently a little too slow for his taste. the older spins around and takes it from you, ripping it open with his teeth. he drags you into a messy kiss as he unbuckles your jeans and belt with calculated yet rushed movements, betraying his intentions.

you're rock hard — and leaking buckets — in his big palm and he marvels at how he has trouble wrapping his fingers around you. were you just being generous with your compliment about his size earlier?

you're too busy moaning and huffing at his grip to notice. soobin’s barely touched you, but the fact that he's touching you (the crush of basically every sane member at your university), and rolling a condom onto your sex, excites you like nothing other. not to mention, him just having emptied his sweaty balls into your stomach.

the beauty spins around with a sultry hum, arching his ass into the curve of your cock. akin to a page out of a playboy magazine. “you’re so unbelievably sexy,”

he grins at you just as the bathroom door swings open again. you take the burst of noise to push into him. you both moan freely at the burn of the intrusion. the men in the room are loud; you think someone’s holding the door open because the sound doesn’t cease like it should. you’re thankful it doesn’t.

“fuck!”

you press him roughly into the wall and fail to keep quiet at the warm, gummy feeling of his inner walls. soobin cries out in white-hot pleasure as your hips gain a life of their own, thrusting into him. every buck shakes the older man to the core. your athletic body is solid against his backside, hands gripping at his tiny waist. god, is this how you feel? like a place he could melt into with no worries?

soobin thinks you’re cute too, as you curse and whimper under your breath in consideration of not getting caught. he thinks about how that same mouth made him feel just earlier. your stiff cock doesn’t disappoint, filling him up and stroking his swollen prostrate easily. soobin can’t deny how his body responds to your gifted touch, how his pride swells at having you so shameless for his attention. he wonders if this is how you usually acted for some dick.

your enthusiasm translates with your wandering hands as they push up his cropped shirt to reveal more of his milky skin. his abs are dense under your touch, the muscles dancing below the surface. you rock your cock into him with firm circles, staring at where he consumes you with eager eyes and even eager movements — he greets you with hiccupped moans.

the thumping music doesn’t help the adrenaline sparking through his veins but it briefly hides the rippling connection of your sinful activities from the other fun-seekers. the sound cuts off and you’re left alone again. the energy doesn’t dissipate.

soobin throws his head back, fingers curling against the wall by his head when he feels you start pull him down and impale him further on your throbbing length, grunting by his ear. the way your fingers sink into his skin is strangely possessive. he shivers at the idea of you claiming him, or maybe it's the cold metal of your jeans against his bare ass, slurred whispers falling from his lips.

“fuck me, ffuck me! god, yn don't stop fucking me!”

“yeah, you like that?”

soobin nods in affirmation as you fuck the breath out of his lungs, dark hair flying up and down, eyes squeezed closed. shit, this was so bad. him getting dicked down by someone so much younger. he’s enjoying it too much. you’re having the time of your life. his sloppy hole feels like a heavenly respite to your aching needs. he massages and presses on all your right spots, like his ass was made to embrace you. like your lives were orchestrated for this moment.

you slip your fingers past soobin's open lips and thrust into his wet mouth to the rhythm of your hips. “look at me when i fuck you, sir.”

you tone is slightly condescending as you turn his head; using honorifics while he opens his ass and mouth for you like a two-piece whore.

but soobin does look at you. you feel yourself gasp as you meet his teary doe eyes from behind, eyebrows knitted in overwhelming pleasure. his pretty lips wrapped around your fingers and sucking like they were something else. a line of drool trickles down his chin from the disturbance.

a moan falls from your lips as he gazes into your eyes like a succubus with potent allure, tempting you to fall deeper into his web. his smooth walls squeeze your most sensitive areas and the pleasure crackles up your spine. you were already entrapped.

utterly irresistible. you watch his eyes flutter as you remove your fingers to instead curl them around his biceps. you pull his upper body up to rest fully against yours and his spine curves in tandem, head falling on your shoulder and opening his front up.

he can feel his hardness swing helplessly with every slap of your hips against his ass, legs starting to shake. his pliant body bounces back and forth with ease, but with the way he’s crying out, you'd think he was being pushed to the limits. it certainly felt like he was. one glance down at his stomach proved that.

“you're sho—! so deep inside—!" he can't help the hand that reaches out to caress the swelling you make in his lower abdomen, growling as it protrudes against his palm every time you bottom out. somehow you catch onto his words and do the same. too smart for your own good.

burning satisfaction envelopes your frame at the feeling of your cockhead poking away inside your professor's stomach, twitching uncontrollably inside him with an airy moan. sweat drips down your arms and legs. you were about to explode.

"hyung 'm close, uhmnn ah, c-can i?"

"y-yes," comes his breathless reply. your hand slips down to wrap around his cock and pumps roughly. that's enough to push soobin over the edge again, clamping down and pulsing around your hard cock with a wail.

the cord snaps inside of you too as you trap him against the wall with your strength. his taut ass grips you so tight in place as you fall into ecstasy, you can't keep your noises to yourself, moaning shamelessly when the feeling of fiery-hot pleasure spreads down to your fingers and toes.

your hand pumping his cock doesn't let up and soobin's eyes white out. he writhes against your body as you fill him up and send him spiralling into the depths of peak pleasure with hushed encouragement. each squeeze of his balls reflects in his stomach and rim, barely able to contain the cream you dump in his ass.

"shit," you heave and fall backwards after you regain some sense, your upper back resting against the other side of the stall. the air is stuffy. stuffier than it was before, anyway. euphoria ripples across your nerves as it melts away, leaving a satisfying ache in your muscles.

your eyes trail your eyes over soobin’s bent over form in front of you: the back of his head, down the dark patch along the curves of his shirt where it collected his exertion, down to where his rosy ass cradles your throbbing dick.

your cum seeps from the base of the condom, and you briefly wonder if it ripped inside him. not much time to think, because his pale ass slowly sinks down again until the soft flesh sits flush against your pelvis, drawing a sigh from both of you. you glance back up at your professor's side profile at his actions. his eyes are closed in contentment. you did that.

your palm lands on his ass and rub the smooth flesh before you reluctantly pull out. he slumps further, shiny puckered rim pulsating at the loss of something holding him open. you bite your lip at the indecent picture. then, you remember the plug perched above the toilet and slide it back in tentatively. with no complaint, soobin lets you pull up his jeans and boxers.

"...thanks. needed that,"

"don't thank me. thank you. i'm gonna be thinking about this forever." he turns around to face you as you convey your gratitude(?), but his handsome, flushed face disappears out of sight when he falls to his knees and tears off the condom.

"what are you— o-ohh," soobin swallows your softening length. seems like he wanted to return the favour. his mouth is so warm and wet as he licks up your creamy fluid, you flinch from the overstimulation. "ha-aa,"

he slides off with a pop of his lips, looking up at you as he tucks you back into your clothes. when he rises to his feet he regards your messy appearance, face bright in the afterglow of your orgasm.

"just make sure to keep those thoughts to yourself, got it?"

this could not get out.

"not even you?" you move closer and rest a palm on his lower back, oddly happy to be able to see his face again. he's so fucking pretty. it would be such a pity if this was the last time you felt him. you know he feels the same…

"could keep it between us instead. i have a couple more things i think i could teach you, prof."

©2025 loveabunbun. all rights reserved.

[c4tluver02]

celebrations!

wc: 1.3k

summary: The morning of Steve’s birthday, you shower him with love and Steve can’t believe he’s this lucky.

cw: none! flufffff

a/n: sorry for how slow i’m putting things out im on a trip and barely have time to write :( so here’s a little blurb of something

Before you Steve spent his birthdays mainly alone. Sometimes the kids would come by to say happy birthday if they weren’t busy with school. Most of the time he’s working a job that isn’t gonna give him a day off for some birthday. Never too upset by it, already used to the feeling of many missed birthdays by his parents being gone. If he was lucky enough that his parents did remember his birthday he would get a check.

But now Steve doesn’t even think about the way things used to be. The disappointment he felt or the times he cried himself to sleep as a kid. Because now he has you, someone who would never forget or treat it like one more thing on your list to get done. You plan ahead and despite Steve constantly telling you he didn't need anything, you would shower him in gifts.

And this birthday wasn’t any different. You, Rob, and Nanc all had a ‘girls day’ but really it was a day that you three got all the gifts you needed to get for Steve’s birthday. Each year that passes Steve is reminded how lucky he is to have such a deep rooted family. You had also prepared a cake, decorations, and a time for everyone to get to your house. A surprise party isn’t something that screams Steve but it’s just the group which makes you think he’d let it slide.

Steve hasn’t even woken up yet, it was only 10am and his party wasn’t till 4pm. This meant you had to distract Steve till then which wouldn’t be too hard as you did have a few ideas you could do that he would enjoy. Any excuse to celebrate your amazing boyfriend you took, he was so good to you this was truly the least you could do.

When Steve felt your nails scratching at his head he let out a noise, something between a moan and a hum, letting you know he liked it.

“Good morning handsome.”

“Mornin.” Steve isn’t the biggest morning person, not that it’s even that early.

“How’d you sleep?” You ask moving so you’re face to face with him. He still has his eyes closed and the whine he let out from you stopping the scratching motion made you laugh.

“I slept good, how’d you sleep?” Giving up on any more hours of rest he opens one eye. The other was smooshed into the pillow.

“Good, are you excited for today?” You look really excited and that makes Steve excited.

“Hm what’s today?” He asks with a curious tone. He isn’t being serious, just wanting to hear you say the official words.

”It’s only your birthday! How’s it feel being old?” You poke.

Steve turns his face to the other side of the bed, not appreciating your mean joke. There’s still a smile on his face and when you climb onto him to see his face again you can see it.

“No kiss?” You ask with a pout.

“No. You’re mean. Even worse on my birthday.” You are straddling his lap and his hands are covering his face when he notices you leaning down trying to sneak a kiss.

“‘M sorry Stevie. Would you take a kiss as an apology?” His bedhead is crazy but if you teased him about it you definitely wouldn’t get a kiss.

“No, I’d take an apology as an apology.” He says with a smile, arms folded.

You let out a groan and get ready to hop off him in protest but his hands trap you down onto his lap.

“I am so sorry Steve you aren’t old, I am so awful for even suggesting it! How could I do that on your birthday?” You say it all with a smile but Steve takes it for what it is. Leaning up to give you a gentle kiss that you try to chase.

“Happy birthday.” You say it into his lips as you kiss but Steve understands what you're saying.

“Thank you angel.” When he leans back to lay against the head board you simply just have to lay on him, he is still so warm with sleep.

Your head on his chest, his hand rubbing up and down on your back, and the silence of the morning all has sleep hitting you softly.

“Maybe we should go back to bed.” Steve is always so warm how could he not immediately put you to sleep.

“And miss my birthday?” For someone who says he doesn’t care about it he is awfully vocal about remembering it.

You roll your eyes and get back up, nothings gonna get done when he’s rubbing your back like that. And you do have to make him breakfast.

Gently getting off his lap you get back to your side of the bed, sitting on the edge. “If you could eat anything for breakfast what would you want?”

The gesture goes missed by Steve as a boyish grin takes over his features. You know him like the back of your hand which makes you quickly explain his choices.

“It has to be something I can make in the kitchen.” You deadpan.

This makes his grin fall flat, instead he lets out a hum as he thinks about what actually sounds good. While he does this you stand up to stretch which makes steve’s your shirt rise enough for him to see your underwear poke out.

His body moved before his mind even caught up, crawling over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He’s awfully cuddly in the mornings which you normally indulge but today’s about him, and he deserves a good breakfast.

“I could do french toast or waffles?” He asks with his chin pressed against your tummy.

”You can't ask me! It’s your birthday.” It’s actually impossible for you to not run your fingers through his hair, it should be studied.

“Can’t choose ‘m too indecisive.” Now his face is fully pressed into your stomach and his words are coming out muffled.

“Steve, you're literally the most decisive person I know. Don’t think about what I would pick, I want whatever you want.”

“Let’s do french toast.” He gives in. You grab his hand and walk to the kitchen.

The tile is cold and it makes your stand on your tippy toes. Steve slept in his socks like a psycho so he isn’t bothered by it.

“Your house is always so cold.” You say tip toeing to the fridge to get his food ready.

“You say that every morning but if it’s not cold at night you don’t sleep.” He says matter of factly.

And he’s right, this is your doing. But can’t a girl complain once in the morning? You accept the freezing floor and start getting the ingredients out.

When Steve sees you rubbing your hands over the stove fire he shakes his head but fixes the AC. Maybe this needs to be his new morning job that he does before you get up.

It doesn’t take you long at all to make his food. You always make the best things which only makes his heart pound faster in his chest. How did he get so lucky to get you as a girlfriend? As someone who cares about him in general. The two of you haven’t even been up for an hour and already he could burst into tears about how good you are. He can only think about how excited he is for the future with you.

Your voice snaps him out of the emotional thoughts and he looks at you. You’re right next to him ready with seconds, knowing he normally isn’t full just by two pieces.

“Do you want coffee? Or we could go to the cafe you like when we are done eating?” You ask with your head tilted to the side.

Here you are standing in his kitchen, wearing nothing but his shirt, making him breakfast, the day barely started but Steve can just tell it’s already the best birthday he could ever ask for.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Since Dream BBQ released I got an idea. Can you do Meanie!ENA x Shy!Fem! Reader where reader is from the human world and works as ENA's salespartner. You can also add teasing/limes if you'd like.

Yay! First Ena request since 2021 (I think lol)

I'll leave out the last part so this is completely sfw

....................

"You know, I'm still impressed that you could understand all these people. Are language barriers just...nonexistent here?"

"Barriers? What a silly prospect, dearest." Ena chuckled as she looked at the list of jobs you were both assigned to carry out. "Let's proceed onwards. Everything we do will bring us one step closer to--turning off that goddamn smoke and giving the Boss a piece of my mind!!"

"Wah!" You jumped back in fright as her "meanie" side started yelling out of the blue, crushing the paper in her grasp.

Having known her for so long, you should be used to this being a daily occurrence...yet somehow she never fails to startle you.

"Did you forget the mission?! This isn't a date!! Put those squishy eyes to work and start looking for that last pet...or baby..or..or whatever!!"

"...y-yes ma'am." Sighing, you tried to shake off your nerves and search for the final trail of blood, not wanting to get her any angrier.

You weren't sure how you winded up together, or how you even got thrown into this strange world in the first place, but Ena was the first to find you. She dragged you into her "business", where you also met Froggy and learned more about what they did.

While you didn't fully understand everything, you knew this much: you've been going around doing favors for people who, for some reason, despised Ena's species. Even if you didn't know what they were saying, their general attitude towards her implies that she did something really, really terrible...or they could be mistaking another Ena's actions for hers.

But you didn't know anything about her past, nor what her kind might've did except exist, though it was through your intervention alone that helped most clients to calm down.

Sometimes, it was difficult for you to speak up given your shy demeanor, which hasn't quite left your personality even now. Although with time it got easier, and Ena helped you come out of that shell more and more.

Of course, you made sure clients fully paid you both for your services--but instead of using cash like you expected, the popular currency here was apparently "chocolates". They were edible, although Ena advised you to hold onto them.

So this was pretty much your new life, and somewhere down the line she became your girlfriend. Her "Salesperson" side loved you dearly and made sure you didn't put yourself in any danger, often speaking on your behalf.

The only problem was getting along with her Meanie side to where her outbursts didn't scare you anymore, and perhaps...you could uncover that bit of softness hiding behind her rough exterior.

That became your mission, and you hoped to make at least a little bit of progress if you're going through all of this trouble to find the Genies and convince them to clear the smoke.

After finding the last pet and bringing it back to Shoryo, you received a handful of chocolates. It was then you realized you've lost track of Ena and searched around the land, eventually finding her near the bridge.

A ratlike person was seemingly guarding it, hoarding different things and looking very alarmed at her presence.

He began yelling in Italian, stomping around and flailing his arms about until suddenly--

He collapsed, fainting much like a goat would when startled. But he stopped moving entirely, and Ena just stared down at him.

"What the hell? I was gone for five minutes!" Mortified, you rushed over and kneeled down. "Sir, can you hear me? Are you-?"

"Don't even tell me you were gonna say "alright". What does it look like?!"

"We have to help him, Ena." Looking up, you saw Meanie's expression remain unchanged, and you sighed. "Please. I know the lost witch probably went over this bridge, but..it feels wrong to cross without his permission."

"....."

"Pretty please?"

"....ugh fine. Let me at him." With a huff, she urged you to move aside while she somehow magically revived the hoarder, who seldom thanked you both and apologized for his outburst.

The stresses of his work were creeping up on him, and apparently he was growing paranoid of the purple villager who stood on a nearby decrepit building, convinced they were scheming to take his "property".

So he tasked--or demanded, rather--that you covered their eyes with something.

Eventually, your aimless wandering led you to a small green alien who was trapped within a bubblegum vending machine with three legs. They were eager to sell you products, but after recognizing Ena, they seemed frightened and insisted they couldn't sell anything to her.

"Okay, now you're being ridiculous." You frowned. "You have something we want, and we're trying to-"

"Guys, guys! Wait!!"

Turning to your girlfriend, you could see Meanie's eyes growing wide--as though she was terrified of something. Her head was spinning, her limbs discombobulating.

It was unlike anything you've seen before. "Ena..?"

"I'M NOT DOING WHAT YOU SAY I'M DOING!!" She yelled out. "I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING!! I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING AT ALL-!"

"Ena! Hey. Hey."

Feeling hands on her shoulders, she suddenly looked at you. Her eyes were still wide, but she had seemingly returned to reality as she calmed down. "[Y/n]?"

"Yeah, it's me." You reassured, moving to take her shaking hands into yours. "You're alright. I believe you."

"........"

Somehow, the vending machine alien was moved by your words, and allowed her to buy one thing and one thing only: mayonnaise that was apparently good for the eyes, but you both knew what to do with it.

Before setting off to complete the hoarder's request, you wandered around a bit to see if anybody else needed help.

But you kept thinking back to Ena's apparent panic attack and stopped for a moment, clearing your throat. "So...um-"

"You heard nothing."

"....did you even know what I was gonna-?"

"Don't back-sass me, sweetheart!" She spun around to face you angrily, fists shaking. "You wanna walk the road alone?!"

"No." You put your hands up in defense. "I'd....much rather walk it with you. Wherever it might lead us, I hope we can face it together."

Meanie blinked, surprised by your words. They sounded so sweet, so endearing...and it made a slight blush rise to that specific side of her face. "Ugh....y-you're lucky you're cute." She grumbled, handing you the paper. "Let's just go find that bug-eyed moron and be done with this."

"Alright." Nodding, you led the way, although occasionally you'd glance back at your girlfriend to see her geometric claws trying to cover up the blush--to no avail. You smiled sweetly, and she just stared at you, the burning sensation getting worse. "You know, you're not too bad, Meanie."

"What did you do to me? Why does my face feel like it's on fire??"

"It's called "being bashful", honey. Humans feel that sometimes, especially around the person they love." You winked.

She just mumbled something unintelligible, her hat hiding her eyes from you, but you both kept continuing forward.

'Huh, there's a way to crack through that exterior after all..'

[roscgcld]

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || first born child

request: The gojo hcs of announcing the pregnancy is so cute! Can we get a part 2 when the pregnancy hormones are starting to kick in and they have mood swings? Oohh or maybe when the wife goes into labor? Ty❣❣

note: i like this idea a lot - it kinda made me feel all warm and happy inside c: like honestly, i love it so much haha. 

pronouns: she/her

original headcanon | gojo satoru masterlist | buy me a coffee?

announcing a pregnancy is always fun, especially when you are looking forward to starting your own family with someone you love 

you and gojo were no different - you two were excited to start this new chapter in your lives together, and to the day you get to hold your baby in your arms

but every journey starts with a simple step; and you two, unknowingly, are in for one hell of a ride 

the first thing you developed was morning sickness. thankfully you didn’t wake up every morning throwing your guts out - but you do suffer from severe nausea just smelling certain things

this has cause quite a bit of stress, since on some days you would gag at the smell of rain hitting the ground or the smell of your favourite tea; but other days you’re fine and you instead get sick because of something else

it causes gojo huge amounts of stress, constantly worrying about what smells may trigger your nausea, or worried that you may just vomit on him randomly

thankfully that didn’t last for your entire pregnancy - but what was once nausea from the smell of tea led to you developing a more emotional response to everything around you 

something as simple as dropping your phone on the floor, or you realising that you no longer fit in your favourite shoes would bring tears to yours eyes as you try to hold back the sniffles from your doting husband 

and that was the worse for gojo; he was naturally a very dramatic person. so he is used to him being the more emotional one while you handle whatever temper tantrum he throws with a fond smile on your face

however now it is different. now he finds himself having to rush over to your side to comfort you; reassuring you that everything was alright and that he was there for you if you want to rant 

and sometimes he was the reason for your tears - it wouldn’t be the first time where you would turn your tearful death glare at your husband and throw him through a loop of why you were angry with him all of a sudden 

this also throws him for a loop whenever you have certain cravings - and for some reason, one of your biggest cravings whilst pregnant was curry 

not just any curry - the specific chicken curry that is made by the old man down the street that only opens in the mornings and always have people lining up for a serving of his food

this is the one thing that gojo did excel in though - due to his terrible sleeping schedule, he would be the first one to show up at the store; greeting the elderly man with a smile and even helping him move the heavier tins of curry onto his stall

on the outside looking in, it seemed that gojo was just that good of a husband, wanting to make sure that his wife would get her cravings whenever she wants to. this good faith extended to the owner; who happily served him a much bigger portion than usual and even through him some fried veggie tempura for free

gojo had no heart to tell him that he really does do it just so he can rush back to you with the curry as soon as possible; but he does leave the older man with an extra tip, and bring him the odd gift of gensing powders and herbal teas on your request

and weirdly enough you crave nanami’s chocolate chip cookies - and while nanami would have baked them for you regardless since you begged him once over the phone, he loves the fact that the gojo satoru is begging him every week to bake cookies for you

it makes nanami feel that extra sense of smugness that he rarely gets. plus, the thought that the strongest sorcerer in the world being so tightly wrapped around your finger is a nice change 

gojo have almost burnt down the college when he found out that the higher ups were close to sending you on a mission - he all but forced their hands to make sure you were given teaching jobs and nothing more

even then, if you have a terrible bout of morning sickness or even just slightly tired, you were not allowed to leave your bed at all - let ypur beloved husband cover for you

he hires the best of the best for your nursery as well - not only does he have handmade bassinets and other accessories passed down between your families adorning the room, he commissioned personalised murals on the walls, a room decorator to personally decorate the room with both of your ideas in mind, and has already filled the entire closet with toys and plushies for your unborn child 

gojo does not really care for the gender. whatever you two have, he will be elated. but i think deep down he wants a little girl that he can spoil rotten

already has a bank account and college fund for your child - no child or children of his are not going to be spoilt

you went into labour in the middle of the night. you were chilling after you woke up realising your water broke - turning over to satoru who was on his phone in the middle of the night with a groggy “honey, i think my water just broke..”

poor man with out of bed in seconds, zooming around to pack your diaper bag as you awkwardly got up and waddled to the bathroom so you didn’t continue leaking down your thigh

after changing and drying up, you continued to waddle around to get ready; ignoring gojo trying to get you to sit down as he tries to not break into a panic attack 

“relax babe, i don’t have contractions yet. the hospital would make us go home and wait anyways.”

“with all due respect honey, i will believe that when the doctor tells me that.”

almost scares the driver from how desperate his phone call was; the man giving you a stressed but understanding smile when you apologised for scaring him awake at this hour 

you checked into the hospital, and it took 2 nurses and a doctor to reassure him you were fine - which you were, laying on the bed wincing randomly as you texted your parents about the potential arrival of their grandbaby 

was so frantic that your doctor was debating on giving him the sedative so he doesn’t work himself into a heart attack. but you waved the woman’s concern away with a tired sigh as you sat on the yoga ball, bouncing on it mindlessly with a nurse by your side

“leave him, he’s like a kid. he’ll tire himself eventually.”

when your contractions started to become more frequent and your team was preparing for the birth, gojo was beside himself in fear; but seeing you in so much pain had him focusing all his energy on you

wiping your sweat away, letting you squeeze his hand tightly as he reassures you that you were doing so well

when your doctor informed you to start pushing, gojo felt his heart hurt at how much pain you were in; reassuring you the best he can, letting you scream at him for putting you through this with nothing more but a scared smile frozen on his face

after a few hours of active pushing and screaming, your little girl was welcomed into the world. gojo was in tears when he cut the umbilical cord, and was full on sobbing when your crying daughter was placed on your panting chest 

was immediately smitten the moment she opened her eyes at you guys; fluttering her lashes as she squints up at the lights around her 

he had managed to stop his tears when she was taken away to be cleaned up, cupping your face and kissing all over your cheeks as he whispers sweet nothings and thanks for bringing your daughter into the world 

started crying all over again when the nurses asked if he wanted to do some skin-to-skin time with her; his hands shaking as he follows the instructions of the nurse to hold her correctly 

you just smiled at them from your bed, watching how gojo seems to just fall in love with your little girl as she stares up at her father curiously

“she’s probably confused why her dad has white hair.”

“...i mean, i am a dilf now.”

you almost tossed him out of your hospital room then and there for his joke, but you just gave him a half assed nasty look as you closed your eyes to rest again

you’ll let him get away with this one this one time

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