not so bossy
summary: An irksome feeling infests Jungkook's system when his girlfriend lets him know that she can't meet up after not seeing him for three weeks.
pairing: d1 soccer player!jungkook x reader
genre: angst, fluff
author's note: idk anything about football/soccer and yes im american so i used the term soccer 🙄lolz, also i got some inspo hearing about these famous athletes and their gfs so i pulled this out of my ass. pls enjoy (or not)! ALSO IF U HAVE ANYTHING U WANT TO TELL ME AB ANY OF MY PICS PLS PUT IT IN THE ASKS (not replies) BC THIS IS A SECONDARY BLOG
“Just because I’m not some big shot D-1 athlete doesn’t mean that my life doesn’t matter,” you grimly convey, eyebrows furrowed in pure vexation whilst your pretty lips curl down in a frown.
Jungkook exhales slightly, his pointer finger and thumb coming up to massage his temples. “Y/N, that’s not what I meant and you know it-“
“Then what the fuck did you mean?” The rapidity by which you cut him off pierces his heart like an arrow, because he’s never witnessed you being so abrasive. It hurts him to know that he’s upset you- that his inconsideration induced such a crestfallen expression from his one and only girl.
“I just didn’t want you to meet up with that guy,” Jungkook quietly explicates, unable to adeptly convey what his true intentions were: that he just missed you and didn’t want you to hang out with some other guy, even if it was just to study.
A scoff escapes your mouth, your obsidian orbs glaring bullets into him. “Jungkook, we were studying. It was for school. You of all people should understand that,” you sneer, your harsh words making his heart drop, the unpleasant feeling of guilt infesting his system, because he knows you’re right. Knows he’s been a shitty fucking boyfriend. Knows that you’ve been nothing but understanding, that you've been his personal angel ushering heaven to him, a task you accomplished everyday of every second.
Jungkook’s reticent silence tells you everything you need to know. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day,” you murmur quietly, though loud enough to make the words thunder in his heart. You turn your heel to walk away from him, your arms securely hugging your textbook to your chest, as if you were subconsciously shielding yourself from him. He hates that so much.
Jungkook stands frozen, unable to chase after you like he wants to. His heart is screaming at his brain make his motor system send his body after you..Instead, your figure disappears into the crowd of students flooding the hallways and he’s left there with regret plaguing his system.
How did this even happen?
Jungkook vividly remembers that dreadful text message you sent whilst he was on the bus, heading back from fall training camp.
y/n ♡: hi baby, im so so sorry. i dont think i can make it to our date tonight. this senior in my class asked me if i wanted to join a study group with him and i want to go so i do good on my final :( sorry baby.
Jungkook's lips immediately curl down at the message. Despite quite literally sharing an apartment together, he hadn't physically seen you or touched you in three weeks. With travelling out of town for a tournament for a week, and his two week long training camp immediately proceeding the tourney, he hadn't gotten the chance to come home and see you. Your absence had a deep and profound effect- he had to drown himself with intense physical training to distract himself from the fact that you weren't around.
Jungkook is a D-1 soccer player- one of the best in the nation- predicted to be one of the top picks in the first round of the Major League Soccer super draft. He takes his craft very seriously, centers most of his attention on his body and mind to refine his physical ability and ultimately become one of the best soccer players in the world. Since high school he often opted for a nasty gym session over a party, admiring Messi and Ronaldo over pretty girls, and even went to his club soccer tournaments over attending prom.
That was- until he met you.
The university you and Jungkook attended was widely renown for its impeccable soccer program- and computer science program. By God's grace was he assigned to you for a group assignment freshman year. Your face was slightly flushed when you kindly uttered "Hey, I know you're a huge athlete or something, so I don't mind carrying the project if you have to focus on sports." In reality, your intentions were selfish, solely concerned about your own grades and how this group project may cause them to fall, but Jungkook still thought it was the cutest thing ever.
He appreciated the consideration, but gently let you know that he was certainly able bodied and willing to complete the assignment. Had you not been so pretty, if the way you pushed your glasses up your face not been so adorable, he would have gladly taken the offer, not being quite privvy to anything academic related.
But you were arguably the cutest girl he's ever seen, so he was willing and eager to put in the effort.
Feelings blossomed, cavernous eyes gazed into each other and Jungkok kissed you for the first time. Seeing that you enthusiastically reciprocrating his energy, Jungkook took it as a sign that he scored the girl of his dreams. Group projects lead to late night calls and incredibly vulnerable talks in his car, then arcade dates to salacious movie nights. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend with a bouquet of the most delicately beautiful roses you've ever seen.
Jungkook thanked God everyday for your naturally compassionate nature, and for when you assuaged all his dreadful anxieties about not be an adequate and involved boyfriend. You understood that the nature of your relationship with him would not always be the most attentive- that he had no choice but to sort of neglect you when he had to travel over state and country borders for the sake of his athletic career.
You understood it and you whole heartedly offered your bona fide support.
You appeared at his games with cute red bows binding the curls in your hair, his oversized red jersey thrown perfectly over your precious abdomen. His perfect cheerleader, his number one motivator- and his teammates certainly appreciated you because he performed better when you were in the stands oggling at him with your starry eyes. He had to play better when his girl was in the crowd.
When you weren't able to be physically present at his games, you sent him the most adorable selfies of you streaming the game on your TV, laptop, or phone, going the extra mile to snag a selfie whilst Jungkook was in the frame of your device.
It really is common knowledge that Jungkook adores his girlfriend. In fact, anybody can tell by looking at the measly three photos on his verified Instagram account (courtesy of the NCAA). There was one photo of Jungkook and his teammates from a few years ago, all men have their hands on their cut and bruise heavy knees. They've got gold medals around their necks, ginger smiles on their faces after winning some summer league tournament.
The second photo was from last year when the men's soccer team at your university won the NCAA Division 1 Men's Soccer tournament, and rather than a photo with his teammates, there is one of him and you. Jungkook who was drenched in sweat from an intense yet rewarding game has his hands wrapped around your waist in the photo, leaning down and pressing a kiss on your cheek whilst you smile gleefully. His gold medal is adorned around your neck, resting on your chest rather than his. The caption reads "scored the winning goal for my number one girl", and the comments are permeated with "awwws" and "how cute!" Of course, you are slightly suspicious of the genuiniety of those comments since most of them are from girls who have a crush on him. How do you know that? You just do, consider it girlfriend intuition.
The most recent photo is simply a gorgeous photo of you at dinner. It was from his point of view- his prettiest view when you were sitting across from him enjoying your steak in a strapless black mini dress. In the photo your french manicured fingers are gripping your wine glass, the stain of your lipstick visible at the edge of the cup. The expanse of your neck is visible, making your aura all the more alluring. Your hair is in a sleek bun with the exception of the face framing pieces that dangle on the sides of your face.
You remember that day, Jungkook looked so dashing in his black button up and slacks, and when he presented you with another bouquet of red roses you melted since they were the same flowers he asked you to be his girlfriend with.
The caption is simply a black heart.
Jungkook shuts his phone off and throws it on his bed, hands rubbing his face as he groans into his palms. After you told him not to speak to you for the rest of the day, he meandered back to your shared apartment, earnestly anticipating your return home. The intoxicating scent of your vanilla body spray fills the room, making him all the more miserable.
He knows that he wasn't giving you the attention necessary in maintaining a healthy relationship, that he wasn't amply putting his share into it, but his mind was so trained on soccer that it hadn't occurred to him to check on up on you. He winces at a certain memory where he was so entranced in practicing penalty kicks that he completely forgot about your date at the pumpkin patch. He went home wondering where you were, and his heart dropped when you marched into the home, slamming the door and refusing to speak to him. After profusely apologizing and making it up to you, you later forgave him and everything returned to its usual nature.
But this time was different, because it is 2AM, and you're still not home, causing Jungkook to fall deeper into his despondency.
He spammed you with so many pleading text messages, his eyes scanning over each and everyone as his thumb scrolls further and further to the history of your shared messages.
[2:52 AM] jungkook: y/n baby im so anxious right now. please let me know where you are. i wont go to bed unless i know that you're safe. you don't need to come home or talk to me, just send me your location so that i know you're okay. im so sorry and i love you so much.
As his thumb scrolls up, his texts from earlier in the night appear.
[11:38 PM] jungkook: baby where are you? im starting to get worried about you. please come home.
[9:12 PM] jungkook: my love, the food is getting cold. if you come home we can still enjoy a meal together.
[8:24 PM] jungkook: baby, i know you're upset at me. please let me make it up to you. i cooked your favorite meal, and we can eat together once you get home. i'm here waiting for you.
A soft exhale leaves his lips, his thumb scrolling all the way back to the same stupid argument that triggered all of this.
y/n ♡: hi baby, im so so sorry. i dont think i can make it to our date tonight. this senior in my class asked me if i wanted to join a study group with him and i want to go so i do good on my final :( sorry baby.
When Jungkook first received the first message, it inevitably upset him. A grimace on his face and the furrow on his eyebrows indicated as much. He missed you so much and was looking forward to seeing you so fucking badly. He longed to feel your body against his, the thought of you keeping him up all of last night. He missed your pretty face, the vanilla scent of your soft hair, and the way you made him feel so complete. So, of course he's upset. The first thing that caught him off guard was that you were cancelling on him after three weeks apart. The second thing that caused a deeper furrow in his brows was irksome personal pronoun: him.
Were you really going to ditch him to hang out with some guy? He was trying to be understanding considering the rigor of the university's computer science program- and wanted you to do everything you could to maintain your perfect grade point average. Nonetheless, he was already pouting at the announcement of your absence.
jungkook: him?? who's this senior?? and are u sure u guys cant reschedule?? miss my girl too much
y/n♡: i miss u too, im so sorry,, it's just that this code is really fucking hard and jaebum offered to help so obvi i accepted lol
Jungkook's concern morphs into unamusement, because he is very familiar with this motherfucker. He sighs deeply, reminiscing when his teammate Hoseok approached him and informed him about a certain Jaebum making inappropriate comments about his girlfriend. Not inappropriate as in sexual, grotesque, or expletive. Had that been the case Jungkook would have beaten the shit out of the guy and risked playing the next season. The type of inappropriate Hoseok intended to express was that Jaebum was going around calling you cute- you, a girl who clearly was not single. Jungkook never explicitly told you about this, not really concerned that it would have a significant impact on your very healthy relationship, but it still displeased him.
He wasn't able to constrain his words, mentioning something when he witnessed Jaebum clearly flirting with you when he picked you up from class.
"Jungkook don't worry," you giggled. "He's just a senior in my class- he's really smart so he was giving me some homework advice."
Jungkook tensed at that. "Alright babe, just be careful."
After that, Jaebum really wasn't ever mentioned or considered. He fully trusted you so Jungkook wasn't worried, until at that very moment.
jungkook: babe
jungkook: i thought we already talked about this
jungkook: that guy literally likes you
y/n♡: ewwww lol dont put that idea in my head😭 gross
jungkook: y/n, im serious
jungkook: he really does, i can tell when someone wants u its my boyfriend intuition
y/n♡: okay baby, and if he does??? u dont trust me??
jungkook: ofc i do, but it makes me uncomfortable to know that he invited you to a “study group” , who knows what he’s planning???
jungkook: who else is gonna be there??
y/n♡: it’s just gonna be us, but i promise u u dont have anything to worry about. uk how this class has been kicking my ass.. and jaebum is the only one with an a
Jungkook uses his pointer finger and thumb to massage his temples. The thought of you and this guy studying together enkindles something vile in his system, but nonetheless he chooses to trust you since he knows how important school is to you. However this irksome feeling bubbles in his chest, and he feels like has just has to do something about it.
The next message he sends is his last attempt to assuage the undeniable burning in his chest.
jungkook: i know, can i at least come with? to make sure he doesnt do anything weird?
y/n♡: i don't think it's a good idea. i dont want things to be uncomfortable
Jungkook scowls at that. Weird? Why would him tagging along be anything of the sort? More importantly, why were you choosing to protect Jaebum’s feelings over his?
jungkook: lmao uncomfortable? are u two planning to fuck on the table or something , why would my presence make things “uncomfortable”?
Jungkook winces when his eyes train on that very ill intended text message. He knows damn well he crossed the line with that one, but your response didn’t indicate that you were upset, probably dismissing it as one of his stupid jokes.
y/n♡: jeon jungkook🙄🙄
y/n♡: i’ll see u tonight at home baby💗💗
Jungkook knows he should have left it at that, but three weeks without having you with him were so excruciating, and he longed for you so so much. He loves being an athlete; he loves playing soccer, but the intense drills and back to back games have been agonizingly tough on his body that all he wanted was to cuddle up against you in your cozy and comfy bed. Maybe have a little movie night and give you a little massage though it was his muscles that were sore and tense. But no, you had to study with some slimy guy. Consider him salty.
When the bus dropped the men’s soccer team off on campus, he bid his farewells to his teammates, and for some strange reason his legs just start walking to the library. Huh, how strange. What an anomaly it was for his feet to randomly move by themselves!
He acts very nonchalant, hands shoved into his sweats whilst he wanders between the dozens of book shelves arrayed in the campus library. Nonetheless, his eyes are rapidly shifting toward every corner in the library, in hopes that he “accidentally” runs into you.
Jackpot.
You and Jaebum are sitting adjacent to each other at an occupied table, both of your eyes trained on your Macbook screen. Jungkook puts a hand on his chin, acutely scrutinizing the situation at hand. The distance of your chairs is quite satisfactory to Jungkook- not too close, but he would appreciate it if you were further away. Jaebum is very clearly giving you a lovestruck gaze, and when he scoots his chair closer to yours Jungkook narrows his eyes.
Jaebum is such a fucking weirdo, his hand creepily advancing towards yours that is resting by the keyboard, and you are so exceedingly focused on your screen that you fail to notice. You randomly remove your hand away from where it rests on the table, and scratch your head with it. Once you turn towards him, his close proximity startles you, and you jerk your chair back in the opposite reaction, the most mortified look on your face.
Jungkook isn’t the best at reading lips, but Jaebum is currently expressing something to you, the most awestruck look on his face and Jungkook scoffs at that, clearly understanding the situation. Without thinking he advances towards you, pulling your chair back with a tight grip whilst he looks daggers into the man. “Can you please stop hitting on my girlfriend?”
Your head whips around at the voice of your boyfriend, but it goes unnoticed by Jungkook whose attention is soley on the man.
Jaebum scoots his chair back a little bit, scratching his head. “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was your girlfriend-“
And before Jungkook can interject you speak up. “I’ve told you many times that I have a boyfriend- and quite frankly I’m appalled that you’re trying to make a pass toward me when we agreed that we would be studying,” you say firmly which induces a goofily proud smile to appear on Jungkook’s face.
“I’m sorry Y/N, I-I just really like you and didn’t know how else to talk to you," Jaebum elaborates in attempts to elicit some sort of sympathy from you. His attempt is entirely futile, and you ask him to leave, already vexxed by his inappropriate shot at making a pass at you.
You begrudgingly saunter behind Jungkook, the two of you leaving the library. Jungkook, who is acting under the assumption that you are annoyed by Jaebum, reaches out for your hand, falling into confusion when you rip your hand away from his.
"Babe?-" his eyes round, uneasy at your dissonance.
You exhale deeply, eyes apprehensively glancing around at anybody who may be eavesdropping. "Why the fuck did you follow me?" you whisper shout at him, hands thrown down petulantly.
"I was worried about you," he clarifies, not even bothering to claim that it was a mere coincidence. "And I missed you so much," his tone glosses over softly. He steps forward to embrace you, and the air shifts once you put your hands on his chest and push him away from you.
"Jeon Jungkook, I clearly told you that I would see you at home," you stonely enunciate.
Irritability spreading throughout his system, he scowls. "It was killing me to think about you being alone with this guy when I was missing you so much, and I told you that he liked you but you didn't listen-"
"I admit I was wrong about that, but I am also perfectly capable of handling myself." You hesitate momentarily, gathering the words before spitting them out hastily. "I think you've made it pretty clear that you don't trust me- which is seriously fucked up."
"What's fucked up is that you were hanging out alone with a guy who clearly likes you! You haven't seen your boyfriend in three weeks and chose to spend your time with some guy rather than with me!" Jungkook fires back, attracting some concerned glances from bystanders.
His postulation enrages you. "Need I remind you why I haven't seen you in three weeks?" you sarcastically inquire, eyebrows creasing in awe at the audacity of this man.
"Babe, I have to leave for soccer, you know that, so don't weaponize it against me," he coldly says, and really, all his words do is spread the indignation through your veins like a wildfire.
"I have never weaponized soccer against you, so don't you dare put fucking words in my mouth," you hiss, giving him the dirtiest look he's ever seen from you.
"I have been nothing but supportive of you. Never said shit when you're out there with a bunch of cheerleaders who like you, and with your teammates that fucking cheat on their girlfriends with those cheerleaders! Yet the moment that I prioritize my academic career over you, you pull some weird shit as if you can't trust me!" you finish, your ice colds words leaving Jungkook frozen as a sculpture, as if nitrogen replaced his blood because he realizes you're right. If he ever spend a moment in your shoes, he would lose his goddamn fucking mind because of his naturally possessive and overprotective nature.
"I'm sorry, that's not what I was trying to say," Jungkook clumsily tries to salvage himself. "I appreciate you so much for always being there for me and when I go pro I'll make it up to you. You'll be my soccer wife, and we'll have a mansion with our kids- I'll buy you whatever you want," he conveys, his feeble attempt of sewing together the cuts of the situation.
Instead of a commiserating look, you give him a look that tells him you're even more irritated.
"That's not the point! You don't get that I don't want my identity to be just Jeon Jungkook's soccer wife. I want to be my own person, have my own successful career," you frustratedly communicate. "Why do you think I'm trying so hard in this stupid fucking coding class? Because I didn't want to see you? I always want to see you, but I have to make sacrifices too. The class average is 56 and Jaebum is the only one with an A, but my life isn't as important as yours so you don't want to be sympathetic of my feelings." You finish, cooling off once you've exploded at him.
Jungkook rips away eye contact with you, looking towards another direction, feeling slightly chagrined at your legitimate display of vexation. "I guess your studying didn't seem as important to me at the time," he abashedly murmurs.
“Just because I’m not some big shot D-1 athlete doesn’t mean that my life doesn’t matter," is how you retort, leaving the situation full circle.
Now, it's 3 AM, and you're still not home. Jungkook feels himself falling into a pit of dilapidation and guilt, feeling so remorseful of how shitty he's been. You truly are his super woman, because he's positively sure that he wouldn't be able to handle it if you did what he had to do on a regular basis. He couldn't even handle it when you were studying with another man, let alone travelling and leaving him at home by himself.
The apartment simply feels so empty, and it makes him feel all the more lonely. When he walks into your shared bathroom, his eyes glossing over your cosmetics and skin care products, he becomes absolutely miserable. Debilitatingly picking up your moisturerizer, he squeezes the bottle, product falling falling into his hand. He looks into the mirror and rubs the ointment into his skin, sighing exasperatingly because he wishes you were standing by his side.
The sound of the door suddenly creaks open, and Jungkook rushes into the living room thinking that you may have returned home. His face immediately falls when Jimin marches into his apartment.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook deadpans.
Removing his shoes at the front of the house, Jimin scoffs. "Why'd you leave your door unlocked at 3 AM?"
Jimin plops down at the dining table, picking at the food Jungkook meticulously prepared for you. "This shit is cold as hell," he mumbles before grabbing the plate and shoving it into the microwave. Jungkook doesn't say anything, just grinds his teeth whilst he lays down on the couch.
"Y/N's not home?" Jimin questions with a mouth full of steak.
"No," Jungkook quietly mumbles, dejected and losing hope that you would return home that night.
"I ran into her a few hours ago," Jimin states casually, causing Jungkook to robotically spring up like a zombie and join Jimin at the dining table. "Where?" Jungkook asks like a crazy man, eyes wide, his veins protruding through the whites in his eyes. Jimin gives his friend a distasteful look before protectively covering the food Jungkook made. Jimin analyzes the situation carefully before it dawns on him that you aren't around.
"She's still not home yet?" Jimin asks, concern spreading throughout his face.
"No," Jungkook squeaks out, discouraged by everything before he bangs his head on the dining room table.
"I ran into her at the mall," Jimin says, attempting to provide some comfort to his younger friend. "We looked around a little bit, but I had to go pick my brother up and then I dropped her off at the gym."
Jungkook pauses, owlishly blanking into space whilst he takes a few moments to fully comprehend what just zoomed past his ears. The sleep deprivation and exhaustion is seriously hindering his cognitive function, but he just can't sleep until he knows that you're safe. "Huh?"
Jimin sighs, rolling his eyes before repeating what he just said. He raises his palm to smack the back of Jungkook's neck, which elicits a gruesome glare from the younger one.
"I ran into your girlfriend at the mall. We looked at the dinosaur exhibit. I dropped her off at the gym," Jimin firmly enunciates.
Apparently this computes more briskly than the first time. "The gym?" Jungkook asks, an amusing look of confusion hazed on his face.
"Yes," Jimin replies, frowning at Jungkook's sluggish responses.
"She went by herself?"
"I don't know," Jimin responds, a hinge of more empathy in his voice. "She said something about a personal trainer but I have no clue what she was doing."
An exasperating sigh leaves Jungkook's lips, too much information for his fatigued brain to compute. He didn't even know you had damn personal trainer- you don't even need a fucking personal trainer when your boyfriend is one of quite literally a D-1 athlete. It's not something he wants to even think about, the prospect of him being a shitty boyfriend plaguing his mind even more.
Jimin's eyebrows furrow in concern for his younger friend, and his hand gingerly pats his friend's rock hard back. "Do you want me to stay the night? Or stay at least until she gets back?" he suggests whilst the younger one buries his handsome face into his large palms.
"Please," Jungkook mutters.
Your unexpected entrance proves that Jimin's request was unecessary, because you casually waltz back into the apartment, making Jungkook practically whip his head towards the sound of the opening door.
"Jimin?" you jabber, a little startled at his unanticipated presence.
"Oh hey Y/N!" Jimin greets you more awkwardly than he ever has before, as if he interrupted something though he was there first. "How was the gym?" he releases a sheepish chuckle, and you internally cringe at his overt display of politeness.
"Oh, um. It was good. Are you planning on spending the night?" you ask, slipping your shoes off as you join the two at the dining table.
"Pshhh, no. Absolutely not! I gotta head home.." his eyes erroneously shift all over the room, poorly concealing how clearly he wants to leave. "Right about.." his head whips down at the non existent watch on his wrist. "Now!" He scoots the chair out and -for some reason- he tiptoes out of the house, bidding you and your boyfriend a farewell as he gently closes the comically creaking door.
You look towards your beloved, Jungkook looking dejectedly at his twiddling hands, avoiding eye contact with you. A soft exhale leaves your lips and you plant your palms on the table, getting up before you approach him. Even when he's sitting down at your wooden dining room chairs, he's only a little bit smaller than you- training and the gym have done him well. This profound emotion of tenderness rushes into your heart, and you bend down, placing a tentative and delicate kiss on his fragile cheeks.
"Wanna come with me to the bedroom?" you ask, gentleness lacing your voice at to hopefully assuage the vulnerability of the situation. It is undeniably true that you were upset- even livid at him, but after mulling it over you realized that he is your one and only. If anybody was deserving of your empathy, it was him.
You stride to the bedroom, settling down on the side of your bed with your big hunk of a boyfriend mimicing your actions like a little puppy.
"I made us bracelets," you blurt out hands digging into your pockets, before you pull out two identical bracelets dangling from your fingertips. The bracelets were childlike at best; you used black plastic beads and yarn, the same type of shit toddlers use in pre school when they learn how to do basic things like cut in zig zag lines. The bracelets are mostly made up of black beads, with a pink heart bead in the center of them.
Your fingers wrap around your boyfriend's larger hands, and you gingerly slide his bracelet on his dainty wrists. You suppose you overestimated the circumference of his wrist, because it hangs off his wrist like a necklace.
Jungkook still hasn't said anything, but finally looks up, and your eyes meet his glossy ones.
When you realize that he's crying, you hand cups his cheek, and you use your thumb to wipe the tears that cascade down his handsome face. "No no no," You're panicked at his sullen state. "Don't cry," you express desperately. "Please don't cry, I'm sorry."
Jungkook gazes at you so intimately and intensely, and he feels as if all his resolve breaks now that you are finally in front of him.
"I-I just didn't want to lose you," Anguish laces his voice, and he sounds so desperate that it makes it feel like your heart is being ripped into pieces. "Thought I was gonna lose you," he whispers, and you're compelled to just hug him- so you turn to him and wrap your arms around his neck, and his automatically snake around your waist, so naturally- like this action was done so out of muscle memory.
He holds you tightly, like he never wants to let go of you, of this. He holds you like he's found his sweet solace in your embrace. His neck finds comfort in the crook of your neck whilst he pours his emotions out into your honeydew skin.
"I can't believe you still love me."
"I can't believe you made me a fucking bracelet even after everything. You're so sweet, so perfect."
"I don't deserve you- you mean everything to me. I swear I'll make everything up to you, just give me one more chance."
You pull back at his words, a concerned haze painted on your face. You settle on your knees to meet him at equal eye contact. "Did you think I was gonna dump you?"
Jungkook tears away his eyes from yours. "I don't know. I thought you were getting sick of me- I guess," and the
You sigh, shifting your weight backwards so that your ass rests on your heels. You gnaw on your bottom lip, finding the right words to say. "Jungkook," you begin, conjuring the courage to verbalize everything you've been itching to say. "I... I have never loved anybody as much as I love you." You inhale, nostrils flaring slightly before you continue your somewhat clumsy attempt to bandage everything.
You speak very steadily so that he can fully digest what you are about to say. "And I don't love you because you're a soccer player, or because you're verified on Instagram, or because you're ESPN thinks you're going to be super successful. I love you because you're you."
Jungkook's undeniable heartbeat is pounding, so loud that he can hear it in his ears. Love. Your love is interpermeating his being, seizing control of him completely and fully. There are no words that can properly encapsulate how he feels. Just Love. Love times a million. "Y/N-"
"Just shut up and let me talk," you cut him off, preparing once again to regurgitate your feelings.
"I just love you so much, and because I love you, I would never do anything to jeopardize our relationship. You just have to trust me, even if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm an adult- I know what I'm doing."
Jungkook purses his lips perceptively, nodding ever so carefully at your simple yet overflowing explanation.
"It just hurts me that you felt like you couldn't trust me enough to be alone with him. I know I was wrong for not trusting you when you said he liked me, but even if he were to make a move on me, I would never reciprocate or encourage that behavior. I put so much trust in you, and I really want you to work towards putting that same trust in me. And.. I'm sorry for throwing a temper tantrum, I was just embarrassed I guess. "
Jungkook grabs your hand as if the moment is fleeting, his already soft expression softening impossibly more at the sincerity of your words. He holds your hand to his chest, and you can hear the rapid beating of his heart.
"I understand," he automatically expresses, which concerns you because his answer was almost too immediate. You're not sure if he's properly digesting what you are trying to communicate.
"I was just super frustrated- I missed you so much and thinking of you and that guy was killing me. I trust you, but what if he did something to you?" The disclosure of his authentic feelings relieves any doubts you had about the immediacy of his answer.
"Babe, I'm not an idiot," you reply. "I have a taser and it's not like we were in the woods in the middle of the night," you point out which elicits a soft chuckle from Jungkook.
"You're right baby, my girl's a genius," he leans in and presses a familiar and delicate kiss to your bottom lip, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. When he pulls away you're left with a lingering feeling of longing, and he beams at you.
"You just gotta be patient with me, but I swear I'll try to be less," Jungkook takes a moment to find the right word. "Overbearing."
You give Jungkook a pursed smile and nod your head. Before you can respond he presses another delicate kiss to your lips. Though the kiss is fleeting, it's as if your lips mold together perfectly because he knows you and your lips the best. "Thank you for being you," he presses his forehead against your, mumbling against your lips, the utmost sincerity in his voice. "I love you, so so much," he says, hot breath palpable against your lips. "Thank you so much for everything you do. Thank you for understanding, for loving me. You're just- just perfect, perfect for me. Made for me, and I love you so much." His emotions overwhelm him, and his eyes become glossy. "My love for you scares me. The thought of you leaving terrifies me so much, and if you did, I don’t think I would ever recover,” his words are delicate, fragile like he’s a butterfly that could fly away at any moment. It was up to you to keel him grounded.
You close your eyes, savoring the moment of him being so close. " 'm not going anywhere," you hum into his lips, and he sighs blissfully, snuggling more into your protective embrace.
That night, you fall asleep on his chest, his arms instinctively wrapped around you for the entirety of the night.
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How would Jason react, or even know about Bruce nearly killing the joker?
He doesn’t hear it from Damian, Dick nor Barbara. It’s only when a few years have passed and relations between Bruce and him slowly start cooling that he starts being able to return to the Manor more often without feeling pangs of guilt, longing, nostalgia and overall the Lazarus Pit screaming to be let out.
However, he isn’t dumb. Whenever he complains to Tim about how Tim’s been treated better and loved more than he was, he’s quick to notice how Tim’s jaw tenses, with fingers spastic as if they wanted to curl into fists. Nor does he miss what Tim whispers under his breath twenty minutes later.
If only you knew..
Bruce keeps trying to make amends, tries engaging with him face to face before a few bullets got the message across and he retreated. But Jason could still feel him waiting, hovering, for the signal to light up and let him know he was needed.
He could go to hell though.. Every single time he looked at Bruce he felt safe, followed by fierce anger burning through his veins. He hated that he felt at ease when Bruce entered. Hated that he almost fell back into their old banter. Hated that he missed him. Hated that he still trusted him.
Hated that he still loved him.
One night, after giving Bruce the cold shoulder the entire time and watching in satisfaction as Bruce’s shoulder slumped in defeat, he felt the sudden need to comfort him. He’s the batman, he chided himself. If he could get over your death, he can get over this.
Standing out on the balcony, he never spoke to the presence already there.
“Master Jason..”
“Hey Alfred, it’s pretty cold out you sure you’d be fine?”
“I’ve faced worse winters.”
Jason sighed. That old man always had an air of expectancy around him, just like when he was robin, like a mother waiting for their child to tell them what they did wrong.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know what the bloody hell you think you’re doing?”
That caught Jason’s attention. Hatred and stoic ness quickly melted and all he could do was stare at him in shock.
“Why are you tormenting him?”
“Are you fucking kidding me??-“ “Language master Jason.”
“Alfred. You were there.”
“There was nothing master Bruce could do to save you-”
“I DONT CARE ABOUT THAT ALFRED! He-“
Shoulders slumped, he looked down.
“He replaced me.” Jason whispered. “He didn’t even wait till my body was cold he just fucking went ahead and replaced me. Even after knowing I died, he still put another child in that suit, MY suit! And then, HE DIDNT EVEN AVENGE ME!! He just took Joker back to Arkham, which is basically just like a vacation for him, and LEFT. After all these-”
A shivering cold current of electricity ran through his body and he could feel the Lazarus Pit rising, making his body grow colder by the second.
“After all this time.. he never did anything.” Jason muttered. “So yeah, not only was knowing I was dead for four years a slap to the face.. but to come back home to find another kid in my room and business as usual? As if I never existed? That just made me realise I didn’t matter.”
CLINK
The tea cup in Alfred’s hands was shaking, and a wave of concern overtook Jason. He was about to reach a hand out to steady it when Alfred put the cup down, sighed and looked at the moon.
“Master Bruce never gave Robin to Tim. I did.”
“.. Come again?”
“I gave it to him myself. After you died.. he was a shell of himself. He started pushing himself more, brutalising criminals to the point of hospitalisation. After you died.. a big part of him did too. He refused to be around people, friends, to be happy, to eat. He was punishing himself for your death by refusing to live. And I never forgot you either my boy.. Every night for months I stood by the windows, staying awake and looking outside..hoping to catch a glimpse of you. For the first time in my life I prayed for you to be beaten and bruised, but alive. Locked myself in your room, in your memories, as if standing over your bed was guarding you even in death..Master Bruce missed you so much he played tapes of your missions, just to hear your laugh.”
The older man shook his head and refused to look at him.
“He rejected Tim, but I couldn’t watch him destroy himself. I’d already lost one son..” Alfred paused, looking at Jason with such fondness and pain. “ I wasn’t going to lose another.”
A long pause lingered in the air, and Jason could hear his heart racing as it processed what he’d heard.
“As for Joker,” Jason looked up, and saw the most terrifying scowl he’d ever seen before, with eyes filled with hatred and a craving for retribution.
“Jason Bruce almost killed him too. Like you said, I was there. I was always there. He had chas- hunted Joker down, torturing him slowly and violently until the air was thick with his screams. How every bone was shattered, with so much blood you couldn’t even tell the tiles underneath were white.”
Alfred closed his eyes, and Jason couldn’t help feel that though he was remembering the scene, he was also reveling in it. “His body shattered, smile gone replaced with pain and the howls of misery that he emitted that night.. alas-”
“He didn’t kill him.”
Alfred’s eyes bore into his, and reflected the darkness of the shimmering sky.
“You’re not hearing me. He damn well nearly did. There are things worse than death in this world and Bruce made sure to make Joker feel every single.one. But Superman.. heard him. He heard the roars of fury and grief, and stopped him. All while Bruce stood over the broken body of what once was human. All while muttering your name over and over again, like it was a prayer that kept him grounded. With every hit he took, with every ounce of pain he delivered, he did it with your name on his lips.”
They both just stood there.. shadows in fading moonlight as the noises of life started waking the world with their song.
“Unfortunately, his voice was recorded on one of those surveillance cameras. Tim wiped it, but we kept one copy.. and though the footage is corrupted, the sound is crystal clear.”
Alfred hesitated, before gently cupping Jason’s hands and placing a cold weight on them.
“I hope you never hear it..my boy. I’d rather you burnt it. But if you want to hear the raw truth.. I wanted you to have proof.”
Sunlight burst through the horizon, and with it came the dawn of a new time.
Jason heard the tape as soon as he left.
And burnt it right after.
Alfred was right.
All he had heard were the guttural cries of a broken man..
A father, grieving for his son.
Jason finding out Dick killed joker post:
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Sometimes We Say Things We Don't Mean | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male Reader | Angst with Comfort
Minors/Fem DNI
Warnings; Alcohol consumption, verbal fighting, decent apologies, hangover, hurt/comfort, this is kinda shite, randomly named character that doesn't matter but they needed a name so 🤷🏻
Request; "reader gets super fucking drunk cuz them and ghost had an argument earlier and they dont know what to do and ghost finds them about to pass out and goes wa wa wa and then they wake up and they hug because ghost thought he was gonna lose them"
A/N; I'm sorry this took so long but for the better part of a month i was like "wtf am i supposed to write for the fight" and then went "ohhh, i can search why couples fight". so work it is!
2.0k words
Y/N leaned against Ghost as he cooked dinner, a comfortable silence between them. He had come home from a long mission, not more than a week ago, and Y/N had missed him the entire time. Now that he was home, they could have gentle moments like this. Ghost could enjoy simplicity in domestic life for a change.
“I like it when you’re home,” Y/N murmured, watching Ghost cook from behind him. His arms were wrapped around his torso as he worked on a soup. “You should stay home more often.”
Ghost’s stirring faltered and he stiffened under Y/N’s embrace.
“I…” He started, grabbing a bowl of mixed spices from beside the stove, “Price informed me about something going on in Eastern Europe… They leave on Tuesday.”
Y/N moved to rest his chin on Ghost’s shoulder, side-eyeing him. “What do you mean by that?”
He didn’t respond, simply swallowing down the uncomfortable feeling in his throat when Y/N pulled away from him to lean on the counter and face him.
“No, don’t ignore me,” Y/N demanded, staring at Ghost, who avoided eye contact at all costs.
“He asked me to go with him and the Task Force to-”
“No,” Y/N cut him off, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean ‘no’, you aren’t going.”
“What makes you think you have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do?”
“I don’t, it’s just,” Y/N stared at his socks as he grew aggravated. “You’ve been home for 5 days. You would leave in, what day is it… Sunday? In one day?” He asked, glancing at Ghost. He had turned off the burner and pushed the pot onto the back burner to settle, turning to face Y/N.
“Yeah,” He responded curtly.
“You think that’s okay? Just, being gone all the time?”
“It’s my job.”
“Well, yeah, I get that, but you can turn this one down. You can spend some more time with me. Price didn’t give you an order or anything, right?”
“That’s not how that works and you know it.”
“I know…” He sounded dejected, embarrassed even. “I just… I miss having you here…”
“I know, but I have to do this.”
“Why?!” Y/N shouted, startling Ghost, who jumped at the sudden noise. It wasn’t often that Y/N would yell. He was rather soft-spoken and understanding, so it was almost scary to see him so upset. “Why can’t you be here?! Just for a few more days, that’s all I want!”
“I-” Ghost choked, eyes scanning Y/N’s face.
“I’m sick of it! I hate you leaving me for weeks on end, months, even, and once you come home it’s- it’s all you talk about! Work! I hate it!” Tears beaded in his eyes as he screamed. “I just- I want you, Simon!”
Ghost stared at him speechless. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to articulate a sentence, for the right words to say that would soothe the ache in Y/N’s heart. Nothing could come to mind.
“You said it was okay when we started dating,” He said, eyes dark. Y/N scowled, hot tears falling from his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“This wasn’t what I signed up for. Being neglected.”
“Neglected? Are you kidding?”
Y/N huffed. “It’s not my fault that I feel like y- you love your job more than me.”
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. It always is, isn’t it?”
“S- Stop it! That’s not wuh- what I meant-”
“No, but it’s what you thought. Listen, I like what I do. You can suck it up and deal with it.”
“I- I know you do, I just-”
“Stop stuttering, for fucks sake!”
Y/N choked out a sob and felt his knees wobble. He puffed out his bottom lip slightly and stared at Ghost with a hurt look. When Y/N was anxious, he would stutter. Ghost knew that he was insecure about that.
“I-” He paused so that he could sound out every word without stumbling over them. “I hate you.”
Ghost twitched, hands flexing around nothing.
“Then leave,” He said without thinking. Y/N whimpered and shoved past Ghost before he could process the words that spilt past his lips.
By the time he did figure out what he said, the front door had slammed shut and Y/N’s coat was gone, his house key still on the hook. He took a shaky breath and walked to their shared bedroom to lie down and cool his head. Maybe a walk would help Y/N regain his thoughts.
“And then- he- he made fun of me,” Y/N sobbed, choking on tears while he drank a beer. “Then he told me to leave.”
“Oh, my god…” The bartender murmured. She was one of Y/N’s close friends, and he always took the bus to get to her bar when he was upset. “What a cunt!” She exclaimed. “I can’t believe you’re dating that bastard!”
“Ally, gimme a scotch,” He said before finishing his beer. “And another beer.”
That went on for some time. Drinking and sobbing and ranting, Ally listened to every word with a comforting presence.
“Do you think…” Ally turned her head from where she was fixing someone a pint of Guinness, “that it’s my fault?” Ally turned back to the glass, placing it down so it could settle, before walking over to Y/N again.
“Maybe a little,” She said, reaching out to wipe his cheeks with a towel that was in her apron. His face was burning hot, and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Y/N cried harder at her words, and she continued to wipe them off his face. “But you came from a good place. You should talk to him with a level head.”
Y/N looked at her with snot running down his nose. “He hates me.”
“No, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, darling.” She walked back to the Guinness to fill it the rest of the way before handing it to an older gentleman who took it with a smile. Y/N watched her as he felt the beginning of a migraine seep through the back of his skull, creeping into his brow bone and making the back of his eyes ache. Beer doesn’t substitute water well, especially when you’re expelling all of it through your face for hours on end. His eyes drooped and his head felt heavy, so he went limp and let his forehead smack against the bar.
“BloodyJesus!” Ally jumped, glaring at Y/N. Her gaze softened at his pitiful figure: an odd bloke, drunk off his arse, sobbing in the furthest corner of the bar. It was a miracle he hadn’t thrown up yet. “Christ, don’t you dare blackout in my bar, Y/N.”
Ally’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she fished it out to check the caller ID. ‘Simon’. She huffed and picked up, pressing it to her ear and being met with a very frantic Ghost.
“Have- Have you seen Y/N? We had a fight, he left and I- He hasn’t come home yet. I’m worried,” He said. He sounded close to tears if they weren’t already falling. A thick frog in his throat was making him choke on his words.
Ally sighed and looked at Y/N, who had managed to lift his head and reach for his unfinished beer. She smacked his hand away and grabbed the glass. “I’ve got ‘im.”
“Fuck, thank god. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
“What? It’s a 20-minute drive, how the hell are you… He’s hung up on me,” Ally groaned, pocketing her phone and dumping the beer in the sink. Y/N whined at the sight but didn’t audibly complain. Not in English at least.
“Gimme another,” He slurred, leaning on one of his arms. Ally shook her head and tended to another customer, fixing him a glass of whiskey and setting it in front of them.
She glanced at the front door when it burst open not 10 minutes later, slightly peeved at the sudden loud intrusion, and more so at the fact that it wasn’t a regular. Her eyes softened, however, as she saw that it was Simon. He was frantically scanning the room, noticing Ally and rushing over to her before seeing Y/N, utterly ossified and nearly asleep.
“You get this drunk out of my pub,” She said. He nodded and wordlessly helped Y/N up, wrapping an arm around him before deciding that he would fare better at bringing him home by lifting him up. Ally watched as Ghost lifted Y/N up onto his back with ease, piggybacking him.
“Thank you,” He said quietly. Ally shook her hand and shooed him, desperate to get this show out of her pub and back onto the streets where it belonged. As the door closed behind Ghost, one of the men sat at the bar looked at Ally with a confused face.
“What the feck was that holy show?” He asked, leaning forward as if it were a secret.
“Two very sad man-children.”
Y/N woke up in bed with a hangover feeling entirely shattered. He groaned and shrank back under the blankets, burying his face in his pillow to avoid the blinding morning sun.
“Oh my god…” He whimpered, rubbing his eyebrows with his fingers and groaning again. He heard the bedroom door open, but couldn’t will himself to look over to see who it was.
“Good morning,” Ghost said, walking beside the bed and setting a cold glass of water on the nightstand with 3 Dexibuprofen and a Lucozade Sport. “For your hangover.”
Y/N poked his head out of his little cocoon to look at Ghost, who was now crouched down to be eye level with him, his eyes welling up with tears at the stupid, sorry look on his face. Y/N reached out his hand and cupped his face, rubbing his stubbly cheek with his thumb. Simon leaned into his touch, eyes glossy as he looked at Y/N.
“ ‘M sorry…” Y/N whispered. His head was throbbing, but Simon was here in front of him and that was good enough for him. “I don’t hate you…”
“I know,” He responded, cupping Y/N’s hand and moving it to press a kiss to his palm. “You worried me.”
He blinked away his tears and leaned in to kiss Y/N softly, who welcomed it tenderly, holding the back of Simon’s neck. He pulled back and rested their foreheads against each other, gazing into each other's eyes carefully.
“Could you,” Simon whispered, “say that you love me?” His voice cracked at the end, his face reddening slightly with embarrassment as a tear rolled down his cheek.
“I love you, Simon,” Y/N said, leaning in to kiss him again. “I love you.”
“Take your pain killers,” He said, pulling away from Y/N so he could sit up enough to drink the pills down.
A wave of relief washed over his face when he swallowed a mouthful of cold water. It felt as though it went straight to his migraine, cooling his brain that was aching. His eyes finally felt like they weren't going to pop out of their sockets.
Simon watched as Y/N began to relax. He drank so quickly that water dripped down his chin and onto his chest. Simon smiled at Y/N with a certain fondness that was reserved just for him. A smile that only he had seen, or one that maybe Soap or Price would see a glimpse of when thinking of him.
Y/N finished the glass and set it on the side table, wiping his chin with the back of his hand and looking at Simon.
“Will you lay with me?” He asked. He looked tired again, and Simon felt tired, too.
“Yeah,” He said, crawling into bed with Y/N and laying with his head on his chest. “I love you.”
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toxic thoughts with connie<33
tw toxic relationships/lowkey abuse?? | connie grabs you by your hair n threatens ya | mean connie☹️☹️
thinkin about connie n you being in a toxic lil on and off relationship. calling it quits every other day cuz youre just so bad for eachother.
you guys are screaming n throwing shit at eachother every chance you get. but its never your fault, no its always connies.
“youre a fuckin idiot (y/n),” he takes another drag from the blunt in his hand, “‘nd you’ve got one more time to raise your voice at me before i come over there and beat the shit outta you.”
its just a threat. an empty fucking threat, you know it is, but glancing up at him shirtless, muscles bulging with nothing but his plaid blue boxers on and a mean glare on his face. you cant help that chilling shiver that goes down your spine.
“m’not—dont call me that!”
“maybe than, lets see…” he lets out a mocking loud laugh, “dont fucking act like one?” you hate how he wants to make you cry. how he wants to see you act a mess. how he does everything in his power to upset you. and you hate he he almost always wins. always pulls a reaction out of you.
you feel the tears spill over your cheeks before you can even try n hold em in and you do everything in your power to not just flop down on his clean grey carpet and roll around and curse him. thats what connie springer does to you.
“‘m so fuckin done with you,” you pull up the strap of the lightpink nightgown silk dress connie gifted you as a im sorry for fucking up, again gift that just flops right back off your shoulder, “nd m’serious hic this time, you wont every hear from me again.”
bullshit. you know its bullshit. and it pains you to admit, but you dont think you’ll ever truly be done with connie springer.
connie sits up at that. intrigued. “oh really?” he’s putting his joint out in the ass-shaped ashtray he stole from jean and scratching his hickey covered neck (from guess who) and you can tell hes not taking you seriously. he never does.
his tone is mocking when he huffs out, “go ‘head, y’know where the fucking door is dum-dum.” he’s grabbing the remote, just about to turn on somethin other than the lame shit playing on tv before your throwing one of your bunny slippers directly at his face.
atleast you tried hitting direct. it barely grazes his ear but youre still satisfied when you see his scrunched up face.
and you know hes real mad. his handsome face is turning red at the minute and hes grabbing the slipper from his side before heading towards you.
you try to get away quick, little feet making it maybe two steps out the room before hes grabbin you by the hair and pulling you towards the ground. “ow—connie,” here come the tears again, “s-stop..! let go of me!”
“stop all that fucking crying before i really give you some shit to cry about,” hes letting go of your hair and turning around before your shoving him from behind, trying to get even. “dont fucking touch me! i dont fucking care—” he cuts you off, “shut the fuck up. my gosh.” and hes turning around, grabbing you by your now scrunched up nightgown and pulling you real close to his face.
he can see how upset you are. the tears streaming down your puffy face, your brows all furrowed and all the hiccups coming from your swollen, wobbly lip. sometimes yeah, he does feel bad for how he treats you. the random disappearing days when he knows how much you depend on him, the name-calling even though he knows you cry over every-fucking-thing, the pushes and the shoves knowing your barely half his size. all of it.
still he cant help it. maybe theres something wrong with him. he doesnt know and he doesnt really care. he knows you wont leave so what the fuck, why would he stop?
“look at you,” he takes the hand that isnt practically raising you up to your tippytoes and cups your face, running his thumb over your bottom lip, “your the prettiest girl in the world y’know that? too bad your a crazy bitch.”
>_<
its only like an hour later n youve forgotten all about the petty fight with your boyfriend. forgot that you threw the slipper at him cause he was being sneaky with his phone nd refused to let you see it. dont care tho. you love him again.
“feels so good baby,” he groans, pushing in n out of your slippery pussy with his thick cock, “i love you so much…y’know that?”
you’re being shuffled down towards his standing form some more, ass hanging off of the bed and pushing against fat balls that are pat, pat, patting against your squishy thighs.
“yesyesyes, love you—i-i love you!” you dont even know what the fuck your saying—cant process anything but the feeling of his fat cock stuffing you full. hes so deep n you and its hard to even breathe. feel like hes up your nose.
“s’deep connie ngh…m’cummin again,” youre looking up at him. watching his pretty eyes open n close again n again. watching him bite his saliva covered lips and waching his button nose scrunch up in pleasure. your eyes flick down to obvious bulge in your tummy and you mewl wrapping your legs around his moving hips. trapping him.
your pussy is so fucking greedy, suckin him in again n again and she still cant get enough. connies bringing his hand down and pushing right on that bulge in your pretty tummy that has you both whining. looking you right in the eyes, “go ‘head princess,” and he giggles when you let out the sluttiest little moan, “that feel good huh?”
youre whining out the loudest connnieee follwed by some praise before your squirting all over him, getting both your tummies soaked up and making a mess all over his dark blue bedsheets.
hes following close after with an annoyingly sexy, fuuuck baby and coming right in your swollen pussy.
youre so tired. can hardly open your eyes when you feel connie already pulling out of you to go clean you up. grabbing one of his freshly cleaned sweat towels usually reserved for basketball, crouching down and dabbing it around your messy pussy.
“there you go princess,” hes speaking not to you, but to your cunt, “good as new.” hes leaving a big wet kiss to your pussy like he always does, standing right after and hovering over you to leave an even wetter kiss to your abused lips, throwing the towel somewhere across the room.
>_<
your cozily straddling connie in his bed, being lulled to sleep by his fingers smoothing over your hair.
hes smoking again, cautious enough to not blow it in your face though—he knows you hate smoke—thats only for when he wants to piss you off. you hear him clear his throat.
“m’gonna stop this baby,” hes smoothing over the same roots of your hair he tugged on earlier, “m’serious, no more of this arguing shit,” he grabs your face, pushing your lips into a pout. “ill do better.”
yeah fucking right. you both know thats bullshit. you guys ‘ll be back at all the screaming n yelling tomorrow.
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I was talking about the step-father one! I honestly don’t have many ideas. except for maybe, if he lets his William side come out. so either a boy that the reader was talking to “goes missing” or hell, maybe even reader’s mom if she starts to get in the way?
ofc reader wouldn’t know who did it or anything, as William is careful with his killings. but yeah those are just ideas!! you don’t have to do them, just throwing them out there
taboo, pt. 2: blood on the tires (w. afton x reader)
note: here it is!! just decided to follow your first idea bc i dont know if yall wanna see your mom... well... so here we are.
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: murder, stalking, spanking, 69 position, overstimulation, daddy kink
taglist: @iikyutee
"mmmmph!" you moan against steve's hand. it's slapped over your mouth to drown out any noises you make. for extra precautions, there's also a blanket covering the crack of the bottom of your door to ensure no noises escape the room.
steve is pounding into you. one of your legs is slung over his shoulder. it's like clockwork at this point. your mom is on the phone with her friend, so steve slipped into your room and pounded the living day lights out of you.
simple.
when it's over and he's buckling his belt, you reach for your phone, suddenly engrossed in typing something. "who are you texting?" he asks in a genuinely playful tone.
"oh, just kai," you say mindlessly like you're supposed to know who you're talking about.
"kai," he repeats. who the fuck is kai? something in his gut churns. he doesn't like it. he's never heard of him until now. "where did you meet him?"
your eyes never leave your phone. your lips quirk up slightly when a responding notification sounds. "he was my lab partner in bio-chem. asked for my number afterwards."
oh. so he's interested in you, is steve's takeaway. but he clenches his jaw and says nothing. instead he changes the subject:
"what do you want for dinner? or should we just order out?"
you both decided on ordering out, your mom wanted to make food, but two versus one, right? throughout dinner, steve is dead silent. his eyes stay on his plate. you and your mom are passively arguing about something, but all he hears is white noise. kai. he hasn't felt this blinded by rage since, well, he was still william.
a chicken is trying to get in his coop. it wakes up the william side of him. and steve — william — hates it.
suddenly the sound of the kitchen table banging snaps him away from his thoughts. you're getting up, tears in your eyes. "fuck you!" you scream at your mom and stomp upstairs.
mom turns to steve for support. "she's just so immature."
"i agree, honey," he muses.
but don't worry, he'll be there to pick up the pieces later, when mom's asleep and when you should be too. but you're waiting for him to sneak in your room. you always are. his darling girl.
you wake up the next day, hoping to feel steve's arms wrapped around you and his face buried in the crook in your neck, just like the position the two of you are always in after another one of your midnight sessions. but he's not there. you never got used to his abandonment of you, but you're forced to understand why.
you don't come out of your room the next day. you can't face your mother and her fake apologies. you feel sick to your stomach with hunger, but you just stare at the wall and wait for steve to come back. part of your arrangement is an unspoken truce; a mutual understanding that the two of you are in each other's corner, as cheesy as that sounds.
steve does come back, but it's around one in the morning. he comes in, positive you're awake — because of the sound of music coming from your laptop — only to find you sound asleep. then he notices something.
your phone. he remembers last night.
steve scrolls through your text messages with kai. he invited you to go to the movies and then his house to study — probably where a disgusting man-child like him would try to put his hands on you — but much to steve's dismay, he said he would give you his address during class tomorrow.
fuck. steve would have to wait to strike until after your class tomorrow, meaning he'd have to find a way to take you so he knows where to go. he can manage that.
everything goes according to plan. he's able to convince you let him take you to school, despite the suspicious quirk of your brow. he doesn't leave the campus. instead, how does he pass his time? well, let's just say he uses some of the pictures he's taken of your naked, post-sex body, are put into good use.
he's parked from an angle so that he can get a good look at the students that come rolling out of the building and to the parking lot.
steve spots you as you walk out of classroom, talking with a boy that he recognizes from the photo you set as kai's profile picture. as the two of you part ways, you head to the parking lot where you thought steve would be waiting to pick you up at. instead, steve drives around, following kai's trail until he's alone.
it's just too easy. as kai is walking across the street, steve simply revs his engine and speeds forward, slamming the poor bastard's body against the front of his car. and then, for good measure, he backs up, feeling the tires elevate as the run over his body. steve just can't contain his smile.
he pulls back up to your meeting spot to find you sitting on a bench on your phone. a sick part of him hopes you're trying to reach kai. steve honks the horn, grabbing your attention. you climb into the car and inquire, "what's wrong with the front of your car?"
"drove into some mud awhile back."
thankfully, you drop it, engrossed in your phone once more. once you're back home, mom's at work, meaning the two of you have time to do whatever you want until she comes home. the both of you decide on watching a movie that ends with his body on top of yours, slamming his hips into you while you practically scream.
steve is glad things worked out this way.
the day that you were planning on going to the movies with kai approaches and steve can barely contain his excitement. he has plans for how he'll handle your disappointment when you come home.
it's been about two hours since you left. steve can only imagine you waiting at the mall growing more and more impatient as the time goes by. when he hears the telltale sound of the door slamming and a loud slam, he smiles knowingly.
"what's wrong, honey?" he calls, approaching you from the kitchen.
immediately, you look tearful. "he stood me up..."
"who did?"
"kai!" you shout, louder than intended.
oh, so you want to act like a brat, do you? he fakes an angry look. "don't use that tone with me." this should be good.
a tear slips down your cheek and you wipe it with the back of your hand. "'m sorry. just upset."
"you're sorry, what?"
you practically perk up. you know damn well what's coming next, too. "i'm sorry, daddy."
steve smiles — smirks, actually, and saunters towards you. he lifts you chin to look at him with one hand and the other is put on your shoulder. "you don't need to mess with boys like kai when you have a man like me in your life."
you nod slowly. he's right after all. all steve had to do was eliminate the option for you to make the right decision.
then he drops his hands, looking at you with authority and pulls you into the room that your mom and him sleep in. "you do know what happens to brats, right?"
"but daddy, i was just —"
"none of that," he scolds you and moves to sit at the end of the bed. "bend over my lap."
blood rushes to your face. he's going to punish you like a child, and for some reason, it increases the heat already pooling in your stomach. you promptly slip out of your leggings and do what he says, embarrassed. he has you so your ass is in the air.
steve smooths over the soft skin and pulls and tugs at your thong, letting it snap against your skin and earning a jolt from you. "did you wear these for him."
"no daddy," you whine. "only you."
"good girl," he praises, but he doesn't quite believe you.
he starts delivering smacks to your ass, causing high pitched whines to tumble from your mouth uncontrollably. the blows are inconsistent both in speed in between slaps and harshness, always keeping you on the edge for what happens next. he spanks you fifteen times (he made you count and thank him after each one) until he decides you've had enough.
he pulls your underwear to the side and dips a finger inside your wet pussy. "poor baby, so needy for daddy," he coos.
"yes," you moan, wriggling against him.
he situates you so that you're upright on his lap. you cock your head curiously. "i want to try a new position. want you to suck my cock while i eat your pussy." you rub your thighs together in anticipation. it's a position you've only seen in porn, so this was exciting to you.
steve sheds the rest of his clothes off and lays on the bed, beckoning for you to lay on top of him. once again, the lewd position makes you blush. you cage his neck with your thighs and face his cock. you make the first move, licking up and down the shaft. you give a guttural moan when a swipes a long lick up your center. you can't help but pull your mouth off and stare back at him.
"keep goin,' baby," he gruffly tells you and you try your best to continue.
it's proven much more easy for steve to eat you out than it is for you to suck his dick. he seems completely unshaken to your ministrations, leaving you confused if this is even pleasurable for him at all, meanwhile you're trying your hardest to keep yourself together as he eats you out.
steve smothers his face into your cunt, moaning like it's more arousing than you sucking him off. one particularly harsh suck on your clit has you gushing on his face. it doesn't matter if you've come already, he just keeps going. you try your best to keep a pace of stroking him while sucking on the tip but it just ends with you only being able to kitten lick all around him.
he shakes his head into your pussy, giving you a nice feel of his beard, and you're close again. "ah! steve!" you cry.
then he stops. "what's my name, baby girl?"
"d-daddy," you correct yourself. and he grunts against your clit, making you come all over again.
the stimulation is too much at this point. you try to move away from his body but his strong hands have such a firm grasp on your ass that renders you practically immobile. you can feel the rim of his glasses rubbing against your clit as he shakes his head. "daddy, please — ah — s' too much.."
the only response he gives is a growl into your cunt as he begins to thrust that long tongue inside of you, effectively making you come for the third time on his face. that's when he decides you've had enough. he guides you so that you roll over next to him on the bed.
"you didn't finish," you say with a pout.
"didn't want to," he says, staring up at the ceiling. "just wanted to make you feel better."
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