#love how peaceful these streets look at night

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.

"Do you ever get tired?" 

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.

Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.

"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"

Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.

"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.

They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.

He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.

Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.

Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 

What's cooler than an old lady? 

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."

It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 

Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 

Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."

She surely doesn't recognize him.

And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"

"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 

"Yes, for the last four years."

"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"

"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."

"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.

"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.

"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.

"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."

As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 

Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.

The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"

And the rest was history.

Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.

She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.

Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 

He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."

"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."

She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 

From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.

"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"

"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 

"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.

"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"

She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "

For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try." 

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."

"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"

"No, not really." 

"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"

"Yes."

That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 

"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."

And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.

"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"

She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 

"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."

"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"

She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.

"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"

"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."

"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.

"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.

Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.

"What have you lost?"

"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.

He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.

"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 

"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."

Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.

"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 

"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."

Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.

"Shit." 

She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 

She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 

When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.

She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 

"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."

"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 

"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 

Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.

Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 

Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.

Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.

And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.

Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 

Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.

Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.

He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 

Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 

He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.

She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.

She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.

He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.

Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 

He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 

Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.

Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.

"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 

"Probably here."

As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.

Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”

-

The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.

She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 

When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.

Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 

There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.

She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.

"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 

"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."

She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.

"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.

"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.

His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.

"So it's a movie about eating people?"

Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 

"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."

"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"

Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.

Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 

He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 

He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 

He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.

Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 

Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.

As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 

"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"

-

When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 

She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.

When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 

If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 

Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.

Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 

Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 

She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.

Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 

Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.

Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.

In fact, she was fine with it. 

She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.

It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 

She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 

She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 

So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 

She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.

He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.

When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.

"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 

"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."

"You have been celebrating?"

"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"

"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.

Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.

He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.

"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.

"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.

"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"

"I touched down today after qualifying."

"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 

Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.

"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."

She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."

"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."

Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."

"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."

"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."

He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.

"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 

He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."

Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 

He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 

Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 

Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.

"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.

It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.

He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 

"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."

"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."

"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.

"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."

He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.

"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"

Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."

Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."

"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."

"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 

"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.

Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."

Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 

"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"

"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."

"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"

"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."

"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 

clementine

liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others

clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  

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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.

user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.

-

As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.

Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.

"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"

Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."

Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 

When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."

He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 

She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.

"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"

"About a week." 

Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.

"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"

Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"

Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."

Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 

"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 

He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 

"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"

Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 

Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.

Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.

Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.

It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 

He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?

She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 

"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 

SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 

"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"

SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."

"You're the best, SK." she smiles.

"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."

-

Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 

He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.

"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."

Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 

He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.

When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.

He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.

thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.

- 🍊

He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.

-

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for April 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ and so I have to say (before I go) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [M, 27k, Harry/Louis]

Sometimes falling in love is taking a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown with your eyes closed, hoping someone will be there to catch you.

Sometimes falling in love is seeing the person in front of you, all their flaws and imperfections, and taking that leap nonetheless.

Sometimes it's both.

In Louis' and Harry's case, it's both.

＊ Pathema Proteleia by @persephoneflouwers [M, 53k, Louis/Harry]

A few years ago, Omega Prince Harry left his husband and mate Alpha Louis without any apparent reason. When enemies of the Royalty make an attempt on his life and threaten to hurt Omegas, Louis has to ask the Prince for help.

Or The Greek Tragedy AU (but with the happiest ending).

＊ I Want You Here With Me (Like How I Pictured It) by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 345 words, Harry/Louis]

"I just- Everyone was there and- and they were all happy and in love and I just- I needed to get out of there, Lou." Harry sniffled, wrapping his coat closer to himself as he trudged down the street. "It's not fair. It's not fair that they all get to be happy and in love and have their partners with them when I can't be with you."

OR The one where Harry misses Louis

＊ A Frail Farewell by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings [M, 11k+, wip, Louis/Harry]

Louis can’t believe his luck when he is offered one of the easiest jobs he has had as a long-term house-sitter for the wealthy. He loves the money, and the peace and quiet of the empty mansions he looks after. Most of all he likes that there are no surprises until he gets the shock of his life from ex-pop star Harry Styles who isn’t supposed to be home.

＊ tell me what the hell we're feeling (if you don't do feelings) by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [M, 4k, Harry/Louis]

Harry is getting over a breakup. Louis doesn't date. Neither of them is interested in a relationship -- but they are interested in each other's bodies. It takes a global pandemic for them to admit that maybe there's more than just lust between them.

＊ April Drools! by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 1k, Louis centric ot 5 pairings]

Louis offers a particularly slobbery blow job to his clients who'd rather not be made a fool of on April 1st. Of course, he's got an option for those who don't mind being a little humiliated as well. Part 12 of Glory Hole-idays

＊ I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence [NR, 74k, Louis/Harry]

“Louis,” Harry breathed happily. His smile widened as he realized he’d finally found him, and he was stood before his soulstar. This was the closest they’d been in 31 Earth years, which had felt extraordinarily long for Harry, even in his star form. He could hardly withhold his happiness at seeing him again.

“Erm, yeah,” Louis said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts with his brows furrowing and looking clearly suspicious. “And you are?”

Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.

This leaves Harry to break the rules and instead of waiting for Louis to call him and join him on Earth, he crashes down on his own. Without Louis there to guide him and help him learn how to adjust to having a human body and everything associated with that, Harry has no other choice but to do the best he can.

As Harry tries to correct what has gone wrong, he finds that friendship can be a light even in the darkest night, and through those bonds even separated soulstars can find their fated path once more.

＊ Love Like This by @reminiscingintherain [E, 32k, Zayn/Louis/Liam]

A Zouiam RWRB AU, featuring Louis as the First Son, Liam as the Prince, and Zayn as Liam's friend and equerry. With appearances from Lottie as Louis' helpful sister, Harry as his best friend, and Niall as Liam's golf instructor (or gardener? or something else?).

＊ Ghost of a Name by @signofcomfort [G, 35k, Louis/Harry]

Louis leaves the band in the middle of the tour and drops off the face of the earth. Five years later, they might have a chance to meet him. Harry can finally have some answers and tell the truth for the first time.

- Podfics -

＊ Finally, You and I (Collide) by @lululawrence read by @podfic-pals [NR, 14k, Zayn/Louis]

Funny how Louis could sum up everything he’d had with Zayn so easily.

Ex. One syllable, two letters. Fourteen years of friendship and marriage and everything else they had been to each other, put together and explained to anyone who asked with that one tiny word. Ex. Ex-Best Friend. Ex-Lover. Ex-Husband. Ex-everything, really. Zayn had truly become his everything, and Louis still ached in the spaces within that used to be filled by him, even all these years later.

Sometimes love was a bitch.

Or the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.

[blackbutlerbrainrots]

Okay how about Platonic Yandere Prince Soma and adopted sister reader?

WC: 1.2k 

A/N: This is after writing!Lily (AKA me) and I just wanna say that this not only includes Soma but also Agni too! The two of them are just so close even in their backstories so it was inevitable for me not to write platonic yandere Agni too.

And as always, reblog for part 2! <3

Hmmm, just based on Soma’s personality alone, Romantically, he’s very possessive and isolating. But him being a platonic yandere? 

Him being a yandere includes a platonic yandere Agni too. Agni has always considered you the child he never had. And plus, you’re his young master’s sister, even when you’re not his young master’s flesh and blood. If Soma says you’re his sister, then YOU ARE his sister. There is no denying that. 

Let’s start from the top,

When Soma was very young, he was neglected due to his mother who was more worried to get the attention of his father. And his father could care less about him just because he was the youngest out of his twenty-six kids. But that title was quickly given away from him, and the youngest title now belongs to you. 

In his isolated mind, he really wanted to meet you. He always had older brothers or sisters. He, himself, had been considered the oldest because he was the youngest. But the moment he heard that the title of youngest was taken away from him, his curiosity skyrocketed. Thoughts like him having a little sibling, and sister no less, made him a bit too excited to meet you. 

He was always verbal about wanting to meet you and this, of course, did not go unnoticed by his butler, Agni. And bless his poor heart (And soul), he pulled some strings in order for you two to meet. And let’s just say that ever since that day, Soma considered you someone he must protect. In his defense, you’re just so cute and adorable! With your tiny hands and big doe eyes, how can he not love his little sister? 

He thinks it’s cute that you sometimes act mature, and he tries his hardest to act like you are mature. But with your chubby cheeks, he just can’t resist, no? He’s the type of brother that always teases you by accident too. He always wants to see what your reaction is to this and that and it sometimes gets you annoyed. Now, don’t get you wrong, you love him dearly as a sister. 

When you got pulled into the life of a princess suddenly, you were confused of course. From an orphan to princess in one night. And all because you were used as a gambling bet. You, of course, am grateful that you’re not in the streets anymore. But turning a princess in one night? Now that’s a change you don’t know whether to welcome it with open arms or not. 

As you tried to live as the “forgotten” princess and live quietly in peace and luxury, you met Soma. By now, you’ve met the other Princes and Princesses, and let’s just say that you were definitely intimidated. So you had to prepare yourself just so you can’t angry the said prince who was coming in 2 hours from now-

*KNOCK KNOCK !

‘What?’ You’re confused. You didn’t have any meetings today except for prince Soma, in which that meeting is 2 hours from now. So, who can that be? Your question got answered quickly.

“Prince Soma is here, your highness.” You visibly froze. ‘Eh? He’s here? Prince Soma? Did time quickly fly past? Or is Shiva really punishing me at this moment?’ You shake your head. Did 2 hours go by without you noticing? You breathe in and out to calm your heart beating fast out of nervousness. 

You sighed, getting ready to not stutter and get this meeting over with,

“Come in.” You said in a composed voice. As the pair walked in, they couldn’t believe it. Soma laughed wholeheartedly. “Are you this short, really?” You bit your tongue, careful to not make this prince another enemy of yours. “I am still 12 years old, your highness. I’m still growing.” The prince and butler duo looked at each other. 

And one thing leads to another, from strangers to having a bond that can’t ever be broken (seemingly). 

You didn’t see any red flags with Soma. After all, he’s the only one that ever treated you like an actual sibling and not some kind of war enemy. Maybe that’s why you didn’t see anything wrong with his behavior. Alongside his butler, you never saw anything wrong with them. You didn’t realize that they were isolating you already. With Soma’s optimistic attitude and Agni’s (In your opinion) ‘cool’ personality, you were put into red colored sunglasses. 

You saw Agni more as a father figure. In your mind, he was the perfect combination of a mother and father. Something, in which, you lacked. Maybe that’s the reason why you looked up to him. You really loved his curry, and you admired the way he was fiercely loyal to your brother. Not to mention, his strength. You sometimes wonder how could he have this balance of a mother hen and father dog? 

Now, Agni doesn’t want you to know about him in the past. Nor does he want you to see him fight. He doesn’t want to scare you off of course. But even then, it probably wouldn’t make you scared. It would just admire him more (If that was even possible). 

Soma on the other hand, is very protective of you. He lets you out once in a while and why didn’t you question his insistent attitude whenever you say “you want to go outside”? 

He would always say things like; 

“You can’t! Brothers and sisters are outside, are you sure?” 

“You might get sick, no? Just stay here, Agni will cook some curry to make you feel better!”

He’s always been like that, you guessed. Even when he’s much older than you, he acts like he’s younger than you. It sometimes pisses you off because he doesn’t like to resolve the problem head on. Opting to instead whine and whine until you can’t take it anymore. 

But if that ever happens, Agni is always there to resolve the feud the two of you have. Even when you say feud, he always tells Agni that you’re “acting” out. 

All in all, it’s like heaven and earth with them :’)

[quickhacked]

CYBERPUNK 2077 ➤ [2/?]

[rootbeerworshiper]

anti-social

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: what matt was really doing instead of attending tara yummys party

warnings: smut!!! um car sex, p in v, thigh riding, dom!matt, not proofread

a/n: kinda ditched u guys for a week hopefully this makes up for it ily

love, sienna <3

parties were not your scene in any capacity.

it’s not like you’re overly introverted, but the pure chaos that comes with parties was never something that spoke to you—and oh my god getting hit on by a bunch of gross men added to your discernment towards the large, alcohol fuelled events.

this all being said, you’re also an influencer in LA and that comes with a territory that was unfamiliar to you when you first moved to the sunny state.

it’s difficult to get your name out there in a space filled with people just like you, people hungry for any form of relevance they can gather from their peers.

for whatever reason, influencer parties were a way to get yourself out there, creating more opportunity for youtube collaborations and just overall friendships.

real friends aren’t easy to come by out here, too many people becoming easily blinded by an amount of recognition and it’s easy to become fake—especially when you see friendships as transactional.

this was your least favourite part of LA, the part that was more different than anything else you’d experienced back home.

regardless of all the cons you could continue to list for LA parties, they were needed and encouraged by your manager, so you went, more often than you’d like to.

like tonight.

a few weeks ago one of your friends in the space, Tara, invited you to her one million celebration along with her birthday party and it’s not something you could pass up, so you RSVP’d instantly.

you first interacted with the girl when a few of your fans began telling you how funny of a duo you two would be together, and she dm’d you not long after.

she was real. amongst all the fake in this city she was very much herself, and she took you under her wing as you navigated this new lifestyle which you were eternally grateful for.

the one thing you did opt out of was going in the party bus to the party, if you were going to have a fun night you needed peace and calm right before you entered the chaotic headspace.

it takes a while for you to get ready, spending special time on your makeup and hair in order to present yourself properly—plus, it’s a tara yummy party, you sort’ve have to go all out.

you finish getting completely ready, giving yourself a moment to look in the mirror— it’s safe to say you feel stupid.

sporting a small dark red lace camisole and a black leather mini skirt along with chunky black boots that cut off just below your knee is completely out of character for you but that’s not necessarily a bad thing for a night like tonight.

if you stand here too long hyper analyzing the whole outfit you’ll inevitably change into something more you, so you’re quick to throw on an oversized leather jacket and head out of your apartment.

the uber ride is short lived because of the surprising lack of traffic littering the well lit streets.

soon enough you were at the venue, the loud music pouring through the small spaces in the door frame. you sigh, taking in one last moment of silence before opening the door and engulfing yourself in the complete chaos of a tara yummy party.

if the sound wasn’t overwhelming enough, the bright lights flashing throughout the space took the cake for what caused you the most grief.

it was a conscious decision to come pretty late, the later you come the less people are gonna ask why you’re not drinking, most of them distracted by the alcohol that pools in their kale-filled stomachs.

as you walk in you look around for familiar faces but struggle to see anyone you actually know, opting to grab a soda and lean against a random wall—people watching was a skill that definitely came easy to you.

drunk people were annoying to an extent, sure, but part of you envied the care free nature of it all, and as long as they weren’t pressuring you to take shots you actually preferred it to completely sober interactions.

its hard to hear anything in this environment, screams and music fully encapsulating your body, but soon enough you hear a mumble to your left.

you immediately turn your head, detaching the drink from your lips to look at the figure who’s standing next to you.

you’re sure you’ve seen him before, but the lack of proper lighting or a name to the face leaves you lost for a real identity.

“sorry what did you say?” you yell over the music, leaning in slightly to the boy next to you, your ears now focused on whatever words may leave his mouth.

he leans in too. “is that a rootbeer?” he inquires and a smile forms on your face.

part of you was worried his only plan was to hit on you, or make fun of you for something out of your control, but the innocence of the question was endearing. “it is, it’s my favourite drink ever, i could have so many and never get sick of it”

he smiles, sipping on his drink that looks all too familiar. “mine too. how do you know tara?” he yells again.

“i met her a few months ago for a collab and we just sorta clicked, im not too good at the whole influencer thing” you laugh a little to yourself at your self deprecating humour. “what about you? you look familiar”

“i only met her a few days ago, me and my brothers do youtube and everyone wanted a collab so we’ve just been hanging out” he replies, fingernails making their way in between his lips.

“oh fun! i’m y/n by the way” you reach your hand out to shake his.

it’s hard to ignore the tension that forms from a simple handshake. “Matt” he says simply, introducing himself.

you’re hands linger for a moment longer before you remind yourself to pull away from his grasp.

his eyes take a moment to dart down at your silhouette taking in the sight of you as your own gaze focuses on your surroundings, completely oblivious to the way Matt’s licking his lips—he can’t think about anything else but you.

the random girl he saw standing alone at a party filled with annoying people holding up camera, holding his favourite drink. “so are you from here?” he says, breaking open the tension.

you let out a small sigh of relief, it was always easier for you to talk to people that carried the conversation, especially when they look as good as he does. “no i just moved here a little less than a year ago?” you question momentarily to yourself. “i’m from Boston”

his eyes widen at your statement. “no way, me too” he smiles, running his ring covered hand through his hair.

it’s impossible not to stare at least a little bit, his fingers could genuinely put you in a trance—how good you’re sure he is with them, how much of your throat they could cover-

you can’t get ahead of yourself, these are thoughts you need to keep in the comfort of your own home.

“do you wanna give me your number? maybe we could continue this conversation when we can actually hear each other?” you ask, a sudden boldness coursing through your veins.

“sure id like that” he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, but before he can even hand it to you a familiar hand is dragging you into the crowd.

“you need to loosen up y/n its a tara yummy party cmonnnn” tara groans, fully encapsulating you in dancing bodies before you can even look back at Matt.

you shake it off, forgetting about the cute boy and refocusing on not looking like an idiot in front of so many people.

dancing is definitely a lot easier when you realize no one cares what you’re doing, and when you like the song that’s playing.

so you let loose as tara suggested, arms swaying in the air while you grin looking at your friend, your hands taking turns groping your sides as your hips move to the rhythm of the music.

for once you feel confident, hot even.

not a care in the world because it’s just you—and the brunette boy who’s leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, entranced in your dancing without your knowledge.

you’re actually having fun, singing along to numerous songs on the dance floor alongside influencers who are all wasted out of their minds.

for a moment, through the loud music and the abundance of shining lights you feel a hand place itself on your lower back with a sense of firmness that made you shutter.

before you can even fully turn around, you establish that it’s Matt’s hand based on the way he leans into your neck, speaking in your ear. “back doors in 5” he walks away, his fingers lingering on your bare back longer than you knew what to do with.

what changed?

Matt was a cute nervous guy who loves rootbeer and now he’s whispering your ears and turning you on without even looking at you.

you watch him walk away, joining the mess of a crowd and getting completely lost out of your sight.

5 minutes.

you just have to act completely normal for five more minutes and then your casually meeting up with some guy you just met.

this kinda thing usually fills your stomach with anxiety and fear of the unknown, but right now? you’re more excited than you’ve ever been.

thoughts of Matt flooded your brain and soon enough the five minutes were up, it’s safe to say you walked through the crowd a little faster than normal, eager to see what the boy had in store.

after what feels like forever you get to the back door, the brunette no where to be seen.

you feel like an idiot, getting your hopes up for some youtuber who probably just had fun messing with your innocence, toying with it like a fucking slinky.

after what you consider to be a desperate amount of waiting at the door you give up, the last thing you are is a lost puppy awaiting its owner’s arrival.

you let out a small sigh of disappointment, trying to ignore the lump in your throat that forms as you make your way back into the crowd.

before you get far, you bump into someone who’s practically running through the open space cluttered with people dancing, a light sting entering your shoulder. “what the fuck is your problem?” you say, a little more pissed off after you got stranded.

this is until you make eye contact with the body you collided with, a familiar set of blue eyes looking down at you. “i’m sorry i was coming i swear but Chris needed me for something and-“

“you’re okay, i just thought you left me” you smile grabbing his shoulders to stabilize his rapid thoughts that are clearly over taking him.

he lets out a breath of air, smiling back at you but still licking his lips with a sense of hunger that made you melt beneath his gaze.

“let’s go, yeah?” he places his hand in your own and begins to lead you out of the venue. in all actuality you shouldn’t be leaving with him, but he’s hot and he’s kind and the way his voice puts you in a trance has you needing him in ways unfathomable.

it’s a short walk to outside but you immediately feel better with the fresh air entering your lungs, your chest expanding the moment you leave the sweaty party space.

Matt seemed to feel the same relief, you can also see him a lot better now, the street lights illuminating his face making you realize just how attractive he is.

you weren’t even entirely sure what his plans were, but being anywhere but that party was all you needed. “i hate parties so much” you say, beginning to walk along the sidewalk, most likely walking to his car parked somewhere on the street.

“me too, my brothers are always convincing me to go to them but it’s actually my worst nightmare” he replies, hands placed in his pockets as you walk.

“how many brothers do you have?” you ask.

he smiles, as if the mere thought of his family was enough to bring him joy. “i have three but i’m a triplet actually”

“no way!” you grab ahold of his shoulder, an excited habit of yours that you haven’t been able to kick. “that’s so fun i wish”

he presses the key fob latched onto his jeans by a clip and you see an suv unlock ahead of you as you walk, its lights brightening up the space around the vehicle.

you open the door to the passenger seat, the boy walking around to enter the driver seat. “do you have anywhere you wanna go?” he asks, looking at you as you buckle your seat belt.

“anywheres fine with me i just could not be at that party any more” you reply, now fully situated and earning a nod from Matt.

it’s tight street parking and it definitely will not be easy for him to pull out, but he turns on music, mac miller now playing softly through the speaker as he reaches his arm back behind your seat to back out.

you try to focus on anything else, but the way his hand grips the gear causing his veins to become more defined has you shifting in your seat, subconsciously trying to relieve the tension forming between your legs. “i like your rings” you say shyly, failing to mention the ways you want to feel the cold metal inside of you.

“yeah?” what you don’t know is the way his pants are straining from the sight of your plush thighs squeezing together on his leather seats, how badly he wants to be in between them. “i like em too”

you cough, trying to mask the way his words made you feel. “how come you don’t like parties?”

he checks over his shoulder, changing lanes before turning into a park parking lot. “i’m a little anti social when it comes to that kinda stuff”

“just social with me then?” you ask, hoping to keep this conversation going in the right direction.

he scoffs with a smile on his face, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning back into his seat, spreading his legs slightly as he makes himself comfortable. “yeah just you”

it’s silent for a second, you let different responses to matt’s words linger in your head before finally speaking, your own seat belt now unbuckled as well. “what made me so approachable?” you lean into him slightly, placing your elbow on the centre console and holding your chin up by your hand.

he holds your eye contact, leaning in slightly closer. “well at first it was your smile” he lifts his hand to trace along your jaw, you immediately swallow the lump in your throat.

“then it was how you look in that skirt” his hand makes its way to your hair, fingers grazing your scalp as he mumbles.

“and then” he leans in now, lips aligned with your ear. “it was the way your hands traced over your own body, how desperately you wanted me to see you like that, how desperately i wanted those hands to be mine” his left hand grazes over your bare leg, lightly swaying it back and forth causing you to shiver.

he doesn’t break eye contact once. “Matt please” you beg, not specifying what it is that you need from him.

“what do you want?” his lips make contact with your neck, placing soft kisses along every sensitive spot. you bite your lip to drown out any pathetic whimpers that threaten to leave your mouth, the sensation of the neck kisses alone have you soaked.

you breath pretty heavily, focused on the way his cold rings threaten to make their way to your inner thighs as he speaks. “i want-“ his thumb places a teasing pressure to your clothed aching clit. “i want those hands to be yours”

“there you go, wasn’t so hard was it?” he teases, your legs spreading apart subconsciously, your core begging to be touched.

but he continues his slow movements, his mouth now working its way to your bare collarbone, your back arching into his delicate touch.

before his lips can make their way to you chest you stop him, your finger interfering with his actions, guiding his face up to yours. “kiss me please” you whisper, begging for a sense of intimacy and innocence.

he smiles, breaking his tough guy persona slightly as he leans in to meet his lips to yours. somehow, although you were strangers a mere hour ago, it feels comfortable.

the comfort switches to passion quickly, his hand squeezing your thigh as your tongue slides into his mouth.

it’s short lived before he’s leaning out of the kiss and moving his seat back in one motion, legs spread with room for you on top. he motions for you to come over but for whatever reason your mentally stuck in your seat, frozen in fear at the realization of what’s happening.

“don’t act all shy now baby c’mere” his hands place a light pressure to the sides of your hips guiding you over the console and onto his thigh.

you look down at him, smiling like a goof because you’re on top of a hot boy in a parking lot. “hi”

your arms find solitude on his shoulder to balance yourself, his hands still on your hips as his thigh bone has you weak on top of him.

he keeps one hand on your lower back, the other reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, fully taking in the sight above him. “you’re so beautiful”

your eyes widen at the sentence, taking compliments was never easy for you especially not in this setting. “okay stop” you push him slightly, breaking eye contact to avoid getting flustered.

he turns your chin forcing you to look at him again, leaning into your face. “you are beautiful” he kisses you before you can even deny it. his fingers are quick to toy with the hem of your small shirt, the same shirt that had his mouth watering earlier—the same shirt your delicate fingers ran over as you danced.

“lift” he mumbles, causing you to lift up your arms without a second thought, completely forgetting that you made the decision to not wear a bra tonight.

the look in his eyes is one of pure hunger, your chest displayed right in his eye-line, it takes everything in him to fight back a small moan from the sight alone.

he places a few more teasing kisses along your collarbone while his hands make small circles on your exposed chest. “are you gonna use me to get yourself off pretty girl?” he asks, now taking on hand to guide your hips, rocking them on his thigh with a smirk on his face.

you just nod, too embarrassed to say the words out loud and his mouth immediately makes contact with your left nipple, using the tip of his tongue to lap around the bud. without further hesitation you begin to grind your hips into his leg, his hands now pulling up your skirt lightly to allow more movement.

the consistent pressure of his upper thigh on your clothed clit has you hiding your face in the crook of his neck, not wanting him to see your face as it’s riddled with looks of pleasure.

his hand continues to guide your hips onto him, your fingers interlaced in his hair as let you out muffled moans into his neck. his lips can’t help but form a smirk as the pace of your hips increases, the pleasure building in your stomach at the continues sensation. “such a fucking slut for me, getting off on some strangers thigh” he mumbles, his hands grabbing your ass, squeezing it under the skirt.

you squeeze your legs around his thigh, body chasing more pressure as the pleasure continues to roll through your hips. at this point your a moaning mess, as embarrassed as you are you physically can’t hold back. “mmh fuck matt”

the whiny words leaving your mouth have an effect on his that he wasn’t expecting, his length only increasing at the sound of your noises. he shifts you up slightly, selfishly placing your clothed core on his own center, the buldge giving you something to grind on. “fuck just like that there you go”

he fights back his own moans, still using his hands to force you closer on to him, your pace going faster as a familiar throbbing in your clit signals your closeness. “i’m-“ you let out yet another moan. “close”

Matt lifts his hips slightly, his bulge hitting you exactly where you needed, your legs squeezing around him as you reach you high, his hands not stopping the motion once as your fingers pull on his hair. “okay okay” you sigh, out of breath and exhausted.

you kiss him again, it’s safe to say you’re addicted to it and he definitely does not mind, what he doesn’t expect though is your hand that cups his bulge mid kiss, causing his open to open slightly, unable to kiss you back at the sensation of your hand on him. “fuck don’t tease me baby”

you giggle slightly at how easily you were able to make him fold. “you gonna ride me or what?”

you don’t even answer, instead your lips find comfort in kissing his neck while his hands make their way back to your chest, your nipples completely hardened above him, his hot breath making you squirm under his closeness.

he takes his shirt off and you can’t help but stare for a moment, the vast amount of tattoos are a turn on you didn’t know applied to you. “stop staring and do something” he demands, causing you to unbutton his pants and slide the down slightly, just enough to spring his length free.

you waste no time spreading the pre cum on his tip causing him to shutter slightly. “cmon baby you know what to do”

deep down you know you could give in, you know you could immediately sink onto him and give him what he wants—but that’s no fun.

so instead you time your time, running his tip along your underwear so that you can still receive a small amount of pleasure from your teasing, licking a stripe along his jaw.

what you weren’t expecting was Matt’s hand interfering, sliding your underwear to the side and immediately inserting himself into your center, thrusting upwards without giving you a chance to adjust. “if you’re gonna act like a brat you’re gonna get fucked like one”

you can even mumble out a reply, the feeling of his length hitting your g-spot repeatedly at a speed you have yet to experience has you practically biting his shoulder, squeezing onto his sides as his pace doesn’t let once.

the sight of your tits bouncing up and down with every thrust is enough to make Matt crazy, and the combination of your moans, he could be here like this forever—but he can’t because the way you rolled your hips on his clothed dick already almost made him cum, and him inside of you? he won’t last.

you’re close too but still unable to speak coherent sentences, Matt’s hand sliding down in between your bodies to play with you clit while his thrusts continue.

you are fucked out of your mind to say the very least, eyes rolled back, toes circling, just gone.

lifting your head, you make eye contact with him, the sight of his face that’s currently lost in pleasure is enough to send you over the edge, his fingers still gliding along your puffy clit as he fills you up.

this time he’s the one leaning in for a kiss. “you’re amazing” he mumbles, fully encapsulating your lips with his own once more.

it’s peaceful like this for a moment, soft kisses being shared back and forth, music still playing through the speakers—this is until you hear a phone ring.

Matt’s getting a facetime call. “fuck” he mutters, reaching for his phone to see his brothers contact photo. “just be quiet please?” you nod, smiling slightly.

he answers the call for a quick moment, a camera on the other end pointing at his face temporarily. he simply assures his brothers that he’ll be back to pick them up and he hangs up as soon as possible. “sorry” he leans into your neck, kissing softly.

you just laugh in return. “it’s okay we did kinda ditch everyone”

“i’d do it again in a heart beat” he smiles into you, completely let go of his intense demeanour from earlier.

you trace small lines on his chest, his hands laying softly on your sides. “i still need your number” you mumble, biting your lip as you look at the boy.

“you think?” he teases, grabbing his phone and going to the phone app.

“fuck off Matt”

a/n: i cannot end fics for the life of me and im too lazy to proofread this! @luv4kozume respectfully it’s time for you to write❤️

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @lacysturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[librarycards]

Pigeons are doves. They are rock doves, and I wonder if we began to call them that if people would hesitate to hate them, as doves have that history as messengers of peace. It is true that in my neighborhood nobody hates the mourning doves, dusky and elegant with wings that squeak as if they flap on rusty hinges. They roost on the wires like little Audrey Hepburns, while the pigeons troll the ground, tough and fat, some of them look like they should be smoking cigarettes. They look poor and banged up, like they could kick the mourning doves’ asses but are wise to the divide-and-conquer tactics we use on one another, so they coo wearily at the mourning doves and waddle forth in search of scavenged delights. What you may not know is when you call a pigeon “a rat with wings” you have given it a compliment. The only thing a rat lacks is a pair of wings to lift it, so you have named the pigeon perfectly. When you say to me, “I hate pigeons,” I want to ask you who else you hate. It makes me suspicious.

I once met a girl who was so proud to have hit such a bird on her bicycle, I swear, I thought that it was me she hit. I felt her handlebars in my stomach and now it is your job to feel it also. The pigeons are birds, they are doves. They are the nature of the city and the ones who no one loves. When people say they hate pigeons, I want to ask them if they hate themselves, too. Does it prick the well of your loathing? Do they make you feel dirty and ashamed? Are you embarrassed about how little or how much you have, for how you have had to hustle? Being dirty is not a problem for the pigeon. You can ask it, “How do you feel about having the city coating your feathers, having the streets gunked up in the crease of your eye?” and the pigeon would say, “Not a problem.” You will now stop blaming the pigeon. It is not the pigeon’s fault. The pigeon was once a dove, and then we built our filthy empire up around it, came to hate it for simply thriving in the midst our decay, came to hate it for not dying. The pigeon is your ally. They are chameleons, gray as the concrete they troll for scraps, at night they huddle and sing like cats. Their necks are glistening, iridescent as an oil-slick rainbow, they mate for life, and they fly.

Michelle Tea, Against Memoir. [emphasis mine]

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: ceo!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: Wanda brings you home and fucks you, claiming you as only hers over and over again. After tonight, everyone will know who you truly belong to.

content warnings: smut again, possessiveness, grinding, pillow humping, spanking, strap on, nipple clamps, choking, edging, overstimulation, mommy kink.

word count: 6.3k+

masterlist

Part 1: Fingers Are My Weakness

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

The Ultimate Weakness

The soft leather seat beneath you squeezed slightly as you settled in, Wanda closing the door for you as she made her way around the car. She had an unreadable look on her face, her back straight as you heard her heels click on the concrete floor of her parking garage. 

Opening her door, Wanda slid into the driver's seat and started the car as the scent of her familiar vanilla perfume washed over you. You glanced over at her, taking in her red hair as it lay perfectly over her shoulder. Her jaw was sharp, eyes focused on her phone as she answered one last email for the night. 

Green eyes met yours, and you startled as you realized that you’d been staring for quite some time. The ghost of a smirk formed on her lips, her lipstick still holding up even long after the workday had ended. Backing out of her parking spot, with a sign labeled Wanda Maximoff, she rested her hand gently on your thigh. 

You relaxed, happy that she was continuing her habit even though she hadn’t had the best day. You remembered her telling you that she wouldn’t treat you any differently just because she wasn’t in a good mood, and something settled inside you as she continued to uphold her promise. 

Her fingers squeezed, and you tore your gaze away from the road in front of you, choosing to admire her form in the dim lighting instead. Even to this day, after a couple years of loving her, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you laid eyes on her. Her eyes reflected the warm lighting of the street lamps as she sped out of the parking garage, one hand gripping the steering wheel in a relaxed manner as the other gently traced circles on your thigh. 

Your peace was broken at the first red stoplight. As the car came to a stop, Wanda glanced over at you, her eyes dark as they roamed your face. Her hand moved dangerously high, almost touching your still sensitive core as you raised your eyebrows at her. 

“Let’s play a game.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but rather, a command. You straightened up in your seat, anticipation filling you as Wanda explained the rules of the game. You were to put your hands beneath your thighs. She would continue stroking your thighs, and for every red light she stopped at, she would cup your pussy over your pants. You had the duration of that red light to grind against her hand as much as you wanted. As soon as the light turned green, she would move her hand back to your thighs. 

“If you cum before we get home,” Wanda’s eyes glinted at you, the light turning green. The car accelerated. “I won’t punish you.”

It was an impossible feat, and she knew that. You couldn’t cum without her help, and you’d tried before. You didn’t know how she’d trained your body to only cum for her, but you weren’t complaining. Besides, your fingers never felt like enough after the first time she’d fucked you. 

Still, you nodded obediently, thighs tensing in anticipation as you saw the next stoplight. The city was full of them, and you thanked your lucky stars that Wanda had purchased a home twenty minutes away in the suburbs. 

“Red light, sweetheart,” Wanda murmured, the car coming to a stop. As promised, she moved her hand to cup your overheated pussy, pressure firm as she glanced between the light and your face. 

You held back a whimper, slowly moving your hips. You were still sensitive from your orgasms back in the office, and slightly embarrassed at the amount of arousal leaking through your pants. You were sure that the fabric was damp, you could smell your arousal as it mixed with Wanda’s vanilla perfume. 

Wanda, however, looked immensely pleased by this. The red glow on her face cast a sharp shadow, her lips upturned as her eyes watched you intently. You were glad the light was red, as it helped conceal your flush at her attention. 

Green light washed over you, and you breathed deeply when Wanda removed her hand. Your clit throbbed uselessly, begging for more pressure. You manually slowed your heart rate, breathing in slowly and holding it for a few seconds before releasing it. You could tell that Wanda was pleased by your reaction, her fingers digging into your thigh slightly as she focused on the road. 

Reaching over, you turned on the radio, needing some sort of distraction from the unbearable ache rising within you. Wanda glanced over, her face telling you that she knew what you were doing, but she didn’t stop you. 

Soft jazz filled the car, and you settled back into your seat as your arousal simmered. At least she wasn’t teasing you with pressure against the place you ended her most anymore. Her hand remained firmly on your thigh, not moving as-

Oh great, another red light. 

Her hand returned to the center of your thighs, your pussy convulsing uselessly as you desperately ground against her hand. You needed more, and Wanda knew that. She made no moves to help you, simply watching as you forced your hands to stay under your thighs while rutting against her palm. 

Green light. 

—

You resisted the urge to slam your head against the back of your seat. Of course, the one light near your shared home was red. Wanda’s hand was once again cupping you, your juices having soaked the fabric of your pants a while ago. You hoped that you wouldn’t ruin the nice leather of your girlfriend’s car, but the thought soon fled from your mind as you lost yourself in the mindless pleasure you received from grinding fruitlessly against Wanda’s hand. 

“Almost home, darling,” Wanda said. You resisted the urge to curse at her. “You haven’t cum yet, how… disappointing.” 

A groan left you as the light turned green, your orgasm just barely within your grasp. That was your last chance to cum, and you gained control of your erratic heartbeat with a few more deep breaths. You were sure that you’d cut off circulation to your hands with how hard you’d pressed them beneath your thighs, but you really didn’t want to break one of Wanda’s rules. 

After all, she was already going to punish you for not coming, you might as well not add to the punishment. Besides, you could tell that her mood was changing the whole ride home. Whenever her eyes weren’t locked on you during a red light, they were distant and unfocused. 

You knew your girlfriend well enough to know that she was replaying Hailey’s advances on you over and over in her mind. She was probably overanalyzing the women’s body language from when she’d caught the two of you in Wanda’s office, her mind replaying the way Hailey’s eyes had roamed your body hungrily before widening in fear from the look her boss was directing at her. 

At first, you thought she was upset. But, Wanda was rarely upset with you, not unless you had done something to deliberately anger her, and you hadn’t done anything like that in a long time. So, you surmised that she must just be reverting to her possessive side, letting her thoughts take over until the only thing she wanted to do was claim you as hers. 

You weren’t averse to the idea, but the last time Wanda had gone on a possessive rampage of your body, she’d left bruises for weeks, and you hadn’t been able to walk properly for days. 

The car turned down a familiar road, and you prepared yourself for a long night ahead. 

“Are you hungry?” Wanda asked, and your brain halted. 

Why would she ask if you were hungry? You knew what she was going to do to you, was this some sort of trick? Another aspect of her game? 

Peering hesitantly over at her, you saw nothing but genuine care in her eyes, and you berated yourself for thinking the worst. Nodding, you watched her as she parked the car, gathering her bag before walking over to your door. 

It was quite cute, the way she refused to let you open your own door. Plus, you loved the casual dominance she exuded throughout your daily life, so there were no complaints from you. 

Walking into your shared home, as Wanda held the door open for you, you half expected her to slam you against the wall with fierce kisses and a steady thigh between your legs. However, she did nothing of the sort, seemingly forgetting her promise of punishment as she deposited her bag in her home office, kissed you softly, and began to prepare a small dinner for the two of you. 

You poured some wine, setting the table for two as you made sure the cutlery was straight and the napkins were on the center of each plate. Watching as Wanda brings over a bowl of chicken salad, you smile at her, a warm glow filling you as she smiles back. 

The two of you make small talk, and you’re careful not to mention anything about Hailey as you talk about your work day. Wanda’s eyes still darken slightly every time you mention being trained since she knows exactly who trained you, but she doesn’t comment. 

Eventually, your plates are cleared. Wanda nurses her wine, sipping slowly as you continue to ramble about your day. She watches you with a small smile, her eyes roaming your figure as your hands move excitedly while speaking. Nodding at the appropriate times and humming periodically, she doesn't let her inner thoughts show. 

Wanda can’t stop thinking about the way that fucking girl looked at you. Lust-filled eyes staring at your body even as you were perched on Wanda’s lap. Hands twitching when she saw the multitude of bruises littering your delicate neck, tempted to reach out and take you from Wanda. 

She couldn’t have that. 

You’ve finished speaking, your hands playing nervously with your fork as you watch Wanda’s eyes darken. She’s lost in thought, her green eyes staring into her glass as she slowly finishes the last bit of wine. Seemingly shaking herself out of her thoughts, her gaze slowly makes its way up your body until it reaches your face.

Jerking her head, Wanda wordlessly commands you to go to the bedroom. You immediately stand, stopping only to kiss her softly on the lips. Her hand twitches, fingers reaching towards you, but you’re already moving away. Knowing what’s expected of you, you leave your girlfriend to clear the table as you make your way up the stairs. 

You’re quick and efficient, discarding your clothes and folding them neatly before dropping them near the door. You take a few breaths, calming your racing heartbeat and smiling at the sticky juices you can feel already running down your inner thighs. Wanda was going to love that. 

Kneeling, you get in position near the foot of the bed just as you hear Wanda’s heels clicking up the stairs. Another wave of wetness leaks out, and you remind yourself to be patient. Knowing your girlfriend, you weren’t going to cum for a while tonight. 

The door opens, Wanda’s frame filling the doorway as she slowly steps inside. It's hard to read her expression in the dim lighting of your bedroom, but you watch her out of the corner of your eye as she makes her way towards the bed. 

“Come here.” Her voice is velvet, just barely loud enough for you to hear. Your ears strain slightly, but you hear her command. 

“Yes, mommy.” You’re obedient, your tone submissive as you turn towards her. Wanda hadn’t commanded you to stand, so you remain kneeling as you slowly shuffle towards her. She’s seated on the bed, her hands beckoning you closer and pulling up upwards as your body goes limp, pliant in her grasp as she maneuvers you over her lap. 

You barely register your position, euphoria taking over you as your bare skin comes in contact with Wanda’s body. You can feel the heat emanating from her thighs as you're bent over them, and you relish in it even as a small part of your mind dreads the punishment that is sure to come. 

Wanda doesn’t give you much warning, her hand kneading the supple flesh of your bottom before suddenly disappearing. It is only seconds later that you realize she’s started spanking you, her hand leaving a scorching heat on your ass. You realize that she’s elected to keep her rings on, the pain stinging sharper than usual as the metal hits your skin. 

“Why am I doing this, sweetheart?” The question pulls your mind out of the comfortable vanilla haze it was in, and you blink furiously as you attempt to form a response. Her hand comes down again and again, evidently dissatisfied with your lack of words. 

“Um,” You scramble, hands gripping the sheet in front of you as you try not to reach behind you to swat her hands away. That would only lead to restraints, and you’d rather keep Wanda’s hands on you, even if it brought pain. 

You practically shout for joy when your brain finally starts working, your answer coming out in between broken moans and gasps, Wanda’s hand unrelenting. “Because, fuck. I didn’t cum in the car and- Um… Hailey,” A particularly harsh slap is delivered, and you vow to never speak that name again. 

“She,” You correct yourself, “...made me miss your texts.”

You can tell that Wanda is unhappy with your answer, the blows raining down slightly harder than before. You’re quick to speak, not wanting to upset her further. 

“I’m sorry mommy, I shouldn’t have… shit. I ignored you, and that wasn’t fair to you. I’m so sorry, please. I…” Your voice catches, Wanda’s rings burning into your skin as she continues her assault on your bottom. You’re almost certain that you’ll be bruised for the next few weeks. 

“Hailey…”

“I never want to hear that name again.” Wanda’s voice is soft, her tone deadly and filled with venom as she briefly pauses. “Do you understand?”

Nodding, you squirm fruitlessly in her lap. You hear a humorless laugh above you and know that Wanda isn’t impressed by your efforts to escape. Her hand returns, somehow harsher than before. Every nerve in your body is on fire, pain and pleasure mixing together as she rains blow after blow onto your skin. 

A brief interlude. 

“I shouldn’t have chosen her over you.” You blurt out, desperate to stop the assault on your sensitive flesh. You also really want Wanda to understand just how sorry you are, and you nearly sob in relief when she pauses, her fingers stroking over your inflamed skin. 

“Explain.” 

You compose yourself, wanting to articulate your next words carefully. “I…” You wish you could see Wanda’s face, but settle for reading body language instead. “I made you wait, because I presumed that my training was more important than you. I know better, you come first, before anything. I forgot myself, and in doing so, chose that girl over you.”

The only sound in the room is your deep breaths as you grit your teeth against the red-hot pain emanating from your ass, Wanda’s fingernails scraping against your over-sensitive skin as she thinks. She knows it’s not your fault, she can’t be upset at you for doing your job. 

But the thought of losing you, it's almost too much to bear. 

Waves of jealousy overcome her, visions of a different woman touching you, fucking you, loving you threatening to drown her. Wanda barely registers your whimpers, her fingers squeezing your flesh, your nerves frayed badly as you attempt to get her attention.

“Wanda, I need you to calm down, love.” The words wrap around Wanda’s ears, a soothing melody amid her mental war. 

Green eyes refocus, darting down to your trembling form. You haven’t moved, submission evident as you force your body to remain still. Your face is turned, eyes peeking up at her and filled with concern and so much devotion that Wanda feels slightly off balance. 

“Undress me, darling” Her words are barely a whisper, an unspoken plea interwoven with the command. You understand, you always do. 

Wanda needs to know that you’re still hers, and you’re more than happy to provide that reassurance. You remove yourself from her lap, standing before her and steadfastly ignoring the ache beneath your flesh. Cupping her face, your touch is reverent as you tilt her head up towards you. 

Your eyes meet hers, and you shiver at the spark that travels down your spine. Slowly, your hands move down her neck, fingers running along the steady pulse you find. You move further, hands caressing her collarbones before moving to undo the top button of her dress shirt. 

The urge to kiss her is strong, but you hold eye contact, knowing exactly what Wanda needs at this moment. Refusing to break eye contact, you remain steadfast in your efforts to undress her, fingers flying as you undo the last button of her shirt. Slipping the expensive material off her shoulders, you throw it somewhere behind you. 

Goosebumps erupt as you trail your fingers over her skin, fingers tenderly sliding alongside her bra. Your touch is reinvigorating and frustrating all in one, and Wanda pushes down the impatience that rises quickly within her. She focuses instead on you, feeling the gentle strokes of your hands as you unclip her bra, gently removing the garment before setting it aside. 

Your face is full of wonder, as if you’re seeing her body for the first time all over again. You look like that every time, Wanda realizes, and she feels her jealousy fade as the evidence of your love overtakes her thoughts. 

“Beautiful.” You mutter, breathless as you trace a heated path over her skin with only your eyes. You glance up, noting Wanda’s blown pupils as she watches you. “You’re absolutely breathtaking, my love.”

Wanda’s breath hitches, and you smile gently at her. Fingers move slightly faster now, unbuttoning her slacks and pulling her pants down her legs while she lifts her hips to assist you. 

It’s as though you’re unwrapping a present, fingers excited and careful at the same time. You kneel, nose scraping along her inner thigh as you slowly peel her underwear away from her soaked pussy. Wanda can’t find an ounce of shame within her, not when you’re looking at her like she’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

You remain keeling, your hands tracing nonsensical paths along her skin as Wanda regains control over her mind. She just about loses her composure when she meets your eyes again, the amount of love shining through them overwhelming. 

“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asks, and you duck your head, cheeks flaming. Finally, the upper hand she’d been waiting for. 

Nodding sheepishly, you become aware again of your aching desperation as you shift slightly. Your thighs rub together, and suddenly the only thing you can think of is how badly you want Wanda to fuck you. 

“Please.” You rasp, biting your lip at the hungry look that appears in Wanda’s eyes. 

“Prove it.” Is all Wanda says, her hand grasping a pillow before shoving it towards you. You take it, confusion welling up as you watch her move. She rests herself against the headboard, green eyes never leaving you as she beckons you closer. 

Standing, you move towards the bed, spurred on by Wanda’s encouraging head nods. She holds out her hand, curling her fingers towards her as she ushers you closer. You hold the pillow in front of you, a small inkling of realization making its way into your vanilla haze-filled brain as your eyes widen. 

“You want me to…” Trailing off, you position the pillow beneath you, thighs spread on either side of it. Wanda nods, her hands falling back onto her thighs as her eyes watch your swollen pussy come in contact with the soft fabric. 

“Yes, sweetheart,” She murmurs, eyes lighting up when you begin rocking your hips into the pillow. “Prove to mommy how badly you want to cum.”

A moan erupts from you, your throat vibrating as it escapes. You move faster, hips rutting furiously against the pillow, knowing that you won’t be able to cum from the action. Unfortunately, Wanda had trained your body to only cum at her command, and with her touch. Normally you didn’t care, seeing as she took good care of you. But now? You were more than frustrated by your lack of ability to cum by yourself. 

“Please,” You gasp, pleasure rolling through you as pain ricochets alongside it. The pillow brushes against the inflamed flesh of your ass, sending jolts of arousal straight to your clit as it pulses widely. 

Breathing heavily, you stare at Wanda with wide eyes. Her gaze is unflinching, locked on you as she watches you move desperately against the pillow. Your actions are futile, the ability to cum is beyond your capabilities at this moment, and Wanda delights in that knowledge. 

Moans reverberate in your chest, the sound bouncing around the room as Wanda shifts slightly, her thighs dampening from arousal. The sight of you rutting against a pillow at her command sends her spiraling headfirst into a state of desperation and possessiveness. She attempts to keep a level head, fingers twitching against her thighs as she watches. 

Then, you start begging. 

“Mommy,” It’s pitiful, and so fucking arousing. “Pl.. please mommy, I wanna cum so bad for you. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you earlier. I swear I didn’t do anything wrong, I just wanna be a good girl for you. Please let me cum, I’ll do anything.”

Your eyes unglaze slightly, focusing on her. Wanda feels pride slink into her chest at your next words. “I promise, I’ll do anything.”

Raising a single eyebrow, reaches over to the dresser and pulls open a single drawer. You try not to salivate, knowing that the contents of that drawer are meant to bring either immense pleasure or unbearable pain. 

Wanda’s fingers wrap around a thick strapon, the scarlet color teasing you as your mouth falls open. You’ve only played with that toy once before, and Wanda hadn’t held back, the size nearly splitting you in half as the toy reached places in your pussy you didn’t know existed. 

“Mommy…” Your voice is hesitant, but Wanda just smirks at you as she fastens the strap around her waist. 

“Anything, remember?” Her voice is teasing, but there’s a slight edge to it warning you to behave. “You promised, darling.”

You take in a shaky breath, nodding slowly as you continue to grind against the pillow. Wanda’s fingers are quick, expertly tightening the strap of her harness as you watch with an equal amount of growing anticipation and fear. 

“I want you to ride me.” Wanda’s expectant, her hands already reaching towards you. The pillow is ripped out from under you, a groan leaving your lips as the pleasure fades. Before you can complain, Wanda is grabbing your hips and pulling you onto her lap, rubbing the tip of her strap against your leaking pussy. 

You know what she wants, and can’t find it in yourself to deny her, so you open your mouth and start begging. “Please let me ride your cock, mommy. I’ve been really good so far, and I just want you to make me feel good. Please? I… I promised you.”

Your hands make their way towards her face, but Wanda simply raises an eyebrow at you. Sheepishly, you move your hands behind your back, linking your fingers together. Wanda makes a pleased humming sound, a small smirk appearing on those beautiful lips before her hands are rough around your hips and slamming you down onto her strap. 

It’s not that you weren’t expecting it, or that you weren’t wet enough to take it. It’s the fact that Wanda is so fucking rough as she urges your hips to move faster while rutting her hips upwards. It only makes you want her more.

The sound of Wanda’s strap fucking you fills the room, your juices sliding down the toy and soaking her thighs. The moans that fall from your lips sound like strangled whines, with broken pleas and gasps mixed in. It’s the prettiest thing Wanda’s ever heard. 

“You’re mine.” Wanda’s voice is low, her eyes watching your face intently as it contorts in pleasure. Her fingers dig into your waist, her nails leaving small crescent-shaped indents when she finally moves them upwards. You continue to fuck yourself on her strap, the burning pleasure rolling through you as her fingers begin to pinch and twist your nipples. 

“Yes, mommy…” The words slip out of you, your head feeling vaguely heavy as you move to rest your forehead against Wanda’s shoulder. You feel her lips attach themselves to your neck, sharp bolts of electricity traveling from your sensitive nipples down to your throbbing clit with every clever twist of her fingers. 

You barely even realize the absence of her fingers as you moan freely into her collarbone. The sensation of her thick strap sliding in and out of you at a rapid pace is nearly sending you over the edge, one of her hands threading through your hair while the other rummages around in the drawer. 

Metal clinks, and you jolt, recognizing the sound. Wanda’s laugh is humorless and dry, sounding harshly in your ear as she yanks your head away from her shoulder. “Remember these?”

The nipple clamps swing innocently from her fist, the delicate metal chains glinting at you as you shakily nod your head. 

“Color, sweetheart.”

Your eyes jerk back towards Wanda, mind raging as you continue to mindlessly impale yourself on her strap. Your fingers clench together, unwilling to disobey your girlfriend by moving. 

“Green.” You answer, and Wanda smirks. 

Moving quickly, deft fingers attach the nipple clamps to your hardened buds. You barely even register the pain, your focus centered around the strap disappearing between your thighs. A firm hand presses against your sternum, pushing your upper half backward. 

You move your hands, your fingers releasing their tight grip in favor of gripping onto Wanda’s strong thighs. The approving look in your girlfriend's eyes tells you that no rules were broken, and a high-pitched whimper escapes you at the new angle as your body weight shifts. 

Wanda’s strap is somehow thrusting impossibly deeper into you, pressing against your g-spot and sending tremors throughout your body. Your nipples are on fire, the metal clamps attached feeling like a live wire as Wanda tugs intermittently on them. Her mouth has returned to your sweat-soaked skin, teeth sharp as she litters your breasts with dark bruises. 

“I, please. You… It's too much. Mommy, I can’t…” Your words only seem to spur Wanda on, one hand returning to your hip and forcing the strap deeper into the wet heat of your pussy. The way she tugs on the nipple clamps is almost aggressive, stretching your poor skin as far as it will allow and biting into the sensitive flesh of your breasts. 

Wanda straightens, a sadistic gleam in her eye as she pushes you further back. Your arms shake with the effort it takes to support yourself on her thighs, but you don’t let it deter you, your hips moving faster than before. 

“Can I cum, mommy?” You ask, holding your breath as you watch Wanda contemplate her answer. 

“Fine,” She starts, and you feel your orgasm creep up on you as you force your hips further down her strap. There’s a raspiness in her voice as she finishes, “But I’m not stopping.”

You don’t understand at first. You can tell that Wanda is pleased and slightly amused by the confused expression plastered on your face, her hips still rapidly slamming her strap up into you as she twists the delicate chain of the nipple clamps between her fingers. 

She pulls quickly, her hips snapping roughly against you as the strap hits your g-spot perfectly, sending you over the edge. The nipple clamps tug against your nipples, Wanda pulling them completely off in one smooth movement. 

The pain doesn’t register for a moment, your orgasm washing over you in powerful waves as you convulse on top of Wanda's thighs, your hips stilling as your pussy clenches around her strap. Then, the liquid fire from your sensitive, raw nipples shoots through you.

It's like ice-cold water was dumped on you, your body going rigid as you grip Wanda’s solid thighs tightly. Your nipples are aching, mind-numbingly hard as pleasure mixed with pain courses through you. Your clit pulsates fiercely, wanting stimulation as Wanda fucks you through your orgasm. 

A few curse words escape you, but Wanda doesn’t seem to mind as she tosses the nipple clamps somewhere onto the floor, the metal hitting the carpet with a soft thunk. Her arms wrap solidly around your waist, her body weight shifting as she twists the two of you until you’re beneath her. 

The strap disappears, and you try not to whine as Wanda manhandles your body into position. You’re flipped over onto your stomach, your head pressed into a soft pillow as your arms are moved above your head. Wanda’s hands press your wrists into the pillow, reminding you silently to keep still as she nudges your thighs apart with her knees. 

Strong hands grip your hips, pulling your ass up as you feel the wet silicone of Wanda’s strap nudge your pussy. Your walls flutter, and you barely have any time to process the new position before Wanda’s hips thrust her strap into you in one solid stroke. 

“Fuck, you take me so well,” Wanda gasps, one hand gripping your hip as the other tangles with your hair and presses your further into the pillow. You turn your face, sucking in deep breaths as Wanda fucks you through your first orgasm. 

A second, more powerful orgasm rises, and you squirm violently beneath Wanda. You’ve already cum too many times today, your clit sore and throbbing even as your pussy walls clench down greedily on Wanda’s strap. 

“I’m- fuck. Gonna cum… again. Mommy, please?” You barely hear yourself, the roar in your ears too loud as you feel yourself tip over that proverbial ledge once again. 

Wanda says something, but you can’t make out what she says. You’re aware of her hands on your wrists, pulling them down from the pillow and trapping them against the arch of your back. From this position, Wanda has more leverage. 

The strap continues to fuck roughly into you, milking your pleasure until it turns slightly painful. Any protests die on the tip of your tongue as your face is pressed further into the soft pillow. A third orgasm emerges, pulled from your g-spot as the tip of Wanda’s strap caresses it over and over again. 

“I’m so proud of you, honey. You’re doing so good for mommy, can you cum for me again? It would make me really happy.” Wanda’s panting, her words flowing smoothly as she lets out a few grunts of pleasure. 

The base of her strap is hitting her clit perfectly, and that in addition to watching you fall apart has her on the edge of her own orgasm. You moan loudly in response, your body tensing as your legs shake, your hips rutting against the mattress when your third orgasm hits you. 

Muffled moans sound out, and Wanda lets her orgasm wash over her, hips stuttering against the backs of your thighs. She feels a gush of wetness coat her and glances down to see your cum leaking out around her strap.  

It’s too much, arousal flaring in Wanda’s gut as she fucks you through your orgasm even as her own clit pulsates wildly against the soft leather of her harness. As nice as her own orgasm feels, nothing ever compares to the rush she gets from watching you fall apart beneath her. 

“One more for me, darling,” Wanda says, flipping you over again, her hands rough around your waist as she quickly re-inserts her strap into your dripping pussy. 

You stare up at her, eyes wide and unfocused, and Wanda feels another orgasm creep up on her. She fucks you harder, and you moan lowly as her strap reaches new parts inside you that send pleasure coursing through your veins. 

Another orgasm. You barely even react, your nerves frayed at this point. You hope that she’ll stop soon, but knowing Wanda, she won’t stop until she’s satisfied. 

“You’re doing so good for me, love. I’m so proud.” She says, pressing a vibrator against your clit. You don't know when she pulled that toy out, time blending in a vanilla haze as you pant and moan uselessly beneath her, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain. 

Another orgasm, your hips jerking under her ministrations. The vibrator is only at a medium speed but sends bolts of pain through you as a deep ache settles in your body. You need to cum again, and dread the moment you fall over the edge once more.

You cum, pain overtaking the heat of pleasure as your nerves set on fire. Your muscles tremble, breaths shallow as you utter a simple ‘yellow.’

Wanda slows the vibrator down, eyes searching yours as her hips come to a halt. Her next words are clear, reverberating around your brain as you process, “One more time for me, darling. Can you do that?”

Nodding, you breathe deeply. Your head feels light, your body weightless as Wanda increases the speed of her thrusts again. It’s not as intense as before, but just enough to coax a final orgasm out of you.

Strong fingers wrap around your throat, applying pressure against your neck as you go slightly lightheaded. It only feeds into the fuzzy feeling you’ve been in, your eyes rolling back as you cum violently.

The strap disappears, your pussy walls fluttering fruitlessly as you whine pathetically. Wanda’s fingers discard the vibrator, shutting it off before moving to caress your tear-stained cheeks. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. 

The overwhelming orgasm fades, and you shudder beneath Wadna’s comforting weight as she gently removes the strap from around her hips. Soft kisses are pressed into your damp skin, strong hands kneading your sore muscles as you tremble. 

A strong vanilla scent invades your senses, and you feel yourself become more alert as Wanda begins gently lathering some lotion onto your raw nipples. She’s speaking, her voice low, and you strain your ear to hear her. 

“I’m so proud of you, darling. I’m not upset with you, I know you didn't do anything wrong.” She pauses, her hands gentle as she finishes spreading the lotion over your nipples.  “I just get possessive over you, I can’t imagine losing you. Even the thought is enough to send me spiraling.”

You wish you had the capability to respond, but Wanda glances at you, her eyes softening when she sees the understanding on your face. A small smile spreads on those lips, the ones you desperately wish you could taste, and a bottle of aloe vera appears in your peripheral vision. 

Hoisting yourself up, you turn over onto your stomach. Presenting your red, raw backside to Wanda, you sigh as she gently applies a generous amount of the soothing gel onto your overheated skin. You know that you’ll be sore for days to come, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. 

After all, if Wanda didn't get jealous sometimes, you’d be worried that she didn’t want you. 

Soft lips press against yours, and you sigh into Wanda’s mouth as your hands come up to play with her hair. A gentle tongue swipes your bottom lip, almost apologetic, and you practically melt against her. 

“I have a gift for you,” Wanda says, pulling away even as her lips chase after yours. She seems almost nervous, and you nod excitedly at her even as a yawn hits you. 

“It’ll be quick, I promise.” Her eyes are crinkled at the edges, and you’re glad that she finds humor in the situation. You’re too fucked out and exhausted to think too much, and Wanda quickly reaches into the bottom drawer of your dresser. 

When she straightens up, an item lays innocently in her hands. Your heart rate picks back up at the sight, eyes eagerly taking in the collar dangling from her fingertips. 

“I…” Your voice cracks, and you feel a blush spread across your face as Wanda smiles at you. “I love it, thank you.”

Tenderly, you reach out and take the collar. Your touch is reverent, turning the soft leather over in your palms as you inspect it. It's beautiful, a deep red, with a simple gold tag attached to the loop in the front. 

Written in a delicate font, the words Wanda’s Good Girl are engraved on the heart-shaped tag. You smile, one hand grasping onto Wanda’s shoulder as you pull her in for a hug, tucking your chin into the crook of her neck. 

You truly couldn’t be happier. You’d been waiting for this moment, and had many conversations with Wanda about the idea of a collar. This was true ownership, but if you were honest with yourself, Wanda had owned your heart from the moment you met her. 

“Also,” Wanda begins, her voice leaving no room for argument. “I’m promoting you to my personal assistant.”

You smile, allowing yourself to be pulled under the sheets as Wanda pulls you flush against her body. It’s her favorite way to cuddle, and you simply wrap your arms firmly around her as sleep threatens to overtake you. You mutter against her skin, not entirely sure that she can hear you, but Wanda understands perfectly. 

“That sounds perfect, my love.”

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff

[wandasaura]

TWO PEOPLE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER

summary — in an attempt to get wanda’s attention, you end up warming the strap you hoped she’d fuck you with.

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, strap-on usage, mommy kink, brief daddy kink, cockwarming, holding/accidental wetting, degradation, praise, aftercare, oral fixation, subspace, humiliation, ¿nursing?, idk you suck on wanda’s tits, domestic fluff, men/minors dni

authors note — if you’re familiar with the song peace, i thought the lyrics from the second verse fit this little moment so perfectly! mommy wanda lovers this one is for you, it was heavily requested so nobody look at me! there’s also some soft daddy nat for those that wanted to see more of her

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

You should have learned a long time ago that acting out with Wanda never ended the way you wanted it to. Natasha was easy to get what you wanted out of, a few bats of your eyelashes and a whispered cry of Daddy had her backtracking in seconds, but Wanda was unforgiving and found pride in that fact. You’d gained your footing in this new dynamic rather easily, and on some days, the three of you worked so perfectly together that it felt like you’d been a couple for your entire life, not merely a few weeks.  Wanda and Natasha had fallen into a healthy balance of being your girlfriends and being your dominants. There were days that passed without an ounce of tension, but other days feel like a battlefield. You still weren’t sure how to ask for what you needed from them, which is how you found yourself in the position you’re in now. With summer still lingering through the streets of Westview, you slept between warm bodies every night. There was no indication of what mood you woke up in when daylight painted the sky, but Natasha and Wanda had learned to wait for your not-so-subtle tells. When your eyes peeled open, it was easiest to gauge what side of you they were dealing with. When you wanted to spend the day, or at least a couple hours of your morning, as just their girlfriend, they gave you that without hesitance. Wanda giggled with you in the kitchen and Natasha tackled you onto the couch demanding cuddles, and it always felt easy and real. Other days, when you weren’t so willing to harbor full control of your life, you woke up clinging to your Daddy. It was always Natasha you sought out first thing in the morning, but Wanda can’t complain when she’s the one being smothered throughout the night. They were happy to be whoever you wanted them to be, but they’d slowly been working you up to asking for yourself. 

This morning was one of those days where Wanda decided that if you wanted something from her, you needed to ask and not just with your actions, but with your words. Natasha had gone into the office to oversee a development in a new high-profile case, leaving you to follow the Sokovian around the house like a little lost duckling. Where Wanda went you went, simple as that, well, unless of course she managed to close the door before you could get behind it. That had led to a series of whines and angrily stomped feet, but even then she hadn’t budged then. She hadn’t budged until you had wandered into her office with your hands clasped behind your back. She’d gone to ask what you needed, attempted to give you yet another chance to tell her that you needed your Mommy, but you’d dropped an all black strap-on into her lap and pouted at her with needy eyes before she could get the words out. When she’d pulled her linen shorts down her thighs and attached the harness around her hips, you’d thought you had won. When she told you to get into her lap and take the strap down to the hilt, you were sure that you had won. 

In case it wasn’t clear, you hadn’t won. It had been an hour since she’d asked you to come settle onto her lap and take the strap into your dripping pussy. You’d complied easily, sank down on the toy without her help, and had started grinded your hips against hers in a manner that forced the base to rock against her core perfectly. That pleasure hadn’t lasted long, barely three minutes, and just as your hips had found a comfortable pace, Wanda placed a bruising grip on your hips and completely stilled your movements.  Her lips had been wet when they kissed at the side of her neck, and a pleased hum reached your ears as she used a single slender finger to point your chin toward the ceiling. The full expanse of your neck had been both visible and biteable in that moment, and it hadn’t taken any convincing for her teeth to settle firmly into your skin. You found it laughable that at the start of your contract with Natasha, you’d likened her to a vampire, but Wanda was truly the vampire in your relationship. She possessed an incessant need to dig her teeth into any part of you that she could touch, and you allowed her to eagerly. She’d cooed at your whine when it tumbled from your lips, but there hadn’t been an ounce of sympathy in her face when she asked you, “What do you do to get what you want?” 

“Ask.” You had responded with bated breath, your eyes murky with lust that had been ignored for hours. If Natasha were here she’d have already fucked you raw, but Wanda wasn’t afraid of the long game. She’d never been shy about making you work for what you wanted, and even months into your dynamic with her, not as a couple but as a dominant and her submissive, it never failed to fluster you. Wanda was softer when you shared intimate moments outside of your dynamic. She still never let you top, but she was more lenient in giving in. Her being so firm with you had only cemented in your mind that she knew what you wanted, and the entire day leading up to you warming her strap had been merely a game to her. 

“Mmhm.” She had hummed haphazardly in response, and her hands had still been settled roughly on your hips but her eyes had left yours to trail over the documents that splayed across her desk in messy highlighted piles. You hadn’t had the slightest clue as to what she was really doing, but the rare sight of her so disorganized had felt serious. “And since you didn’t use your words, what happens?” 

You had whined and shook your head in a pleading protest, not wanting to lose your voice when you knew exactly what you wanted. Wanda hadn’t folded at your soft whine, she’d done the exact opposite. The tips of her fingers had pulled your hips down harder against the toy buried deep within your weeping walls, and the head of the dildo had nudged against your softest spot and made your torso fall slack against her chest. “Y-You decide what happens.” You’d finally forced the words into the space between your bodies, and it was rewarded with a sharp thrust of her hips that drove the strap-on further into your pussy. 

“That’s right. What should I decide, hm? I think I’d like to have my pretty little girl warm my strap for a while. What do you think about that idea?” She hadn’t really been asking you. You would’ve been condemned to the same fate even if you’d said no, but you found yourself nodding your head at her question despite how horrible it sounded to sit with your aching cunt filled with pleasure it couldn’t fully claim. “Good girl. Now settle down, Mommy has work to do that little girls shouldn't even be in here to see.” She had guided your head down onto her shoulder, forcing you into near complete darkness before her hands left your hips and returned to the stacks of important documents on her desk. 

You’d tried to remain still, knowing it was what she wanted and she’d have to reward your good behavior at some point, but as the minutes ticked by slower and slower not only did your core demand attention, your bladder demanded relief. The wiggling of your hips hadn’t been reprimanded when the movements started. Wanda had only hummed and shifted beneath you, easing the strap-on into a new position that did nothing for your desperate need to pee. She’d been keeping good on her promise of getting you to drink more water, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the exact predicament she had wanted you in when she forced you to finish an entire glass in the kitchen. Surely it wasn’t. Surely she didn’t want you squirming on her lap from sensations that weren’t caused by her, that wouldn’t make any sense. 

When your wiggling became more frantic and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to moan out in ecstasy or sob in frustration, Wanda sighed and dropped her pen onto the stack of papers that she’d very nearly gotten through completely. Your full and sensitive bladder made the strap-on drenched with arousal feel so much better. Every time Wanda inhaled too deeply or exhaled too sharply, you felt every grove of the cock rub against your walls. The sensation was sharp, fleeting, but embarrassingly addicting and you found yourself trying to replicate little actions that provoked it. Wanda wasn’t as unaware of your intentions as you’d hoped, and when you wiggled a bit too harshly in her lap, finally being rewarded with the quick burst of pleasure, her fingers found your hips again and stilled them just as quickly as she did the first time. 

“Keep still.” She sighed her demand, keeping her tone unbothered which only further provoked your desperation. It was always particularly hot when she acted as though your body writhing against hers had no effect on her. Despite leaving her pen to sit abandoned on the desk, you hadn’t felt her eyes burn into your skin throughout the entire exchange. Your face was still pressed into her neck, hiding in the darkness that you hoped would make this situation less humiliating. 

When you finally had the courage to look up at her, unable to keep yourself still any longer, you cupped her cheeks and directed her attention onto you. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You whispered softly, beyond humiliated with the reluctant admission. Your face turned a flush shade of pink that Wanda thought complemented your eyes perfectly, and you knew you had her full attention when her pupils dilated just the farthest bit more. There was hardly any green left in her stare, but you clung to what little color remained. 

“What was that, little one? Mommy couldn’t hear you.” Wanda pouted her lips, her eyes filled with innocent confusion that wasn’t at all authentic. She’d heard you perfectly clear, you were too close to her face for the words to have fallen short before they met her ears, but she wasn’t letting go of your hips without a further explanation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold yourself together for. 

“I have to pee.” You said just the faintest bit louder, hoping your pleading eyes would be enough to convey the desperation you felt within your weeping core and taut bladder. You felt so incredibly full, and every time you took a breath that feeling only intensified. 

“Oh, well you can hold it just a little bit longer I’m sure. Mommy’s almost done.” Wanda smiled a sweet sympathetic smile, the grip on your hips slowly becoming softer as she let the pads of her thumb soothe the aching skin with tight soft circles you wished would land somewhere else. 

“I can’t.” You pleaded with her to understand just how badly you had to go, you’d already been holding it for so long trying to make her proud. Wanda frowned at your plea, her cherry tinted lips the only thing you could focus on. 

“Well that’s too bad, milaya.” She said simply, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant manner that made your walls clench and your clit throb. “Try harder for Mommy, I’m sure you can do it.” She conceded when your frown didn’t waver, and ever so softly she pecked your lips before things went back to how they were before you’d interrupted her. Your head was guided back down onto her shoulder, and her hands went back to work shuffling through documents that you could only assume she was annotating. 

Another half hour had passed before you couldn’t hold yourself together anymore. You’d lasted longer than you’d anticipated with her full you felt, but the end was in sight as the muscles in your belly fought vicious wars to keep your dignity. You were so close to the edge that even Wanda’s gentle breathing felt like pin pricks against your spine. As your need to relieve yourself grew more intense, so did the coil in your belly that seemed to find fuel in your desperation. A soft cry tumbled past your lips before the dam broke and the coil snapped. You dampened her lap with more than just arousal, and the wet feeling that spread across hers and your thighs only made you cry harder. Moans tumbled past your lips when your cries fell short, and it became a desperate attempt to both seek harder pressure against your clit and get completely away from the wetness that was quickly becoming cold against yours and her naked skin. 

“Oh baby, did you have an accident?” Wanda cooed sympathetically, not even having to look down at your glazed over eyes to know what headspace you’d tumbled into. Your cries weren’t one of pain, nor were they really ones of frustration either. You weeped with humiliation and the desperate need to finally be spoken to. She’d been merely answering you all day, no ounce of elaboration in the short sentences shared. You needed your Mommy, and Wanda wasn’t going to deny you that any longer when you’d been so good for her. Granted, the accident hadn’t been a part of her plan. She’d only intended to make you hold yourself, but she couldn’t deny that it was hot, though a little uncomfortable to be sitting in a cold and wet chair. Despite wanting to get away from the mess, Wanda remained in her chair and devoted her attention to you. In truth, she’d finished her paperwork twenty minutes ago, she’d just been waiting for you to finally break. “Why didn’t you tell Mommy you needed to go potty, silly girl?” 

The words weren’t fully registering in your head, every noise felt miles away and muffled by thick cotton on your ears. If you’d been in a sounder mind, you would have snapped your gaze up to her so quickly that your neck would’ve broken, but that never came. You’d warned her as well as you could that if she didn’t let you up this would happen, but she had taken her chances and the outcome had been exactly what you’d expected. Wanda hummed soothingly when you burrowed your face into her shoulder and your mouth went to work on the little bits of skin that were available beside the collar of her t-shirt. The cock still in your pussy was the farthest thing from your mind, but when Wanda shifted you into her arms so she could finally stand and move away from your accident, you whined at the sensation of your full cunt being empty for the first time in hours. 

“Shh, it’s okay, malen’kaya. You’re okay.” Even in Natasha’s absence the Sokovian spoke Russian. She had no real connection to her native language that had died when her brother did, and whatever she said to you in this moment would fall upon deaf ears anyway. It didn’t matter what language she let fall past her lips, all that you could comprehend in this state was that your Mommy’s arms were wrapped tightly around you and she was so cruelly pulling something away the only thing that had been with you for hours. “We’re gonna get you all cleaned up. Just be patient with Mommy.” Leaving her office chair to be handled at a different time, she honestly might just order a new one, having no intense attachment to the black swivel chair that’s only purpose was to sit on, Wanda carried you back into the master bedroom.

She made quick work of undressing you, soothing your whines of protest when the cold air ambushed your flush and warm skin. Your shorts and panties had been discarded on the floor of her office, so all she had to strip you out of was one of Natasha’s old t-shirts that you had found in the back of the closet and adamantly adored. You reached for her throughout the entire process, a far away look in your eyes as you barely even registered her face coming so close to yours that her breath splayed across your lips. She kissed you softly, capturing your full attention as you returned the embrace, all the while her hands were pulling the piss soaked strap-on off of her hips and away from her core that throbbed to be dealt with, but she could handle the unsatisfied ache. Unlike you, Wanda was particularly fond of edging, the only problem that came with her interest was she never relinquished control for long enough to ever have it be done to her. 

You huffed when she pulled away from your lips in favor of throwing her t-shirt onto the floor with the already existing pile of your own clothes. She left you laying alone in the center of the bed, making a mental note to throw the comforter in the washer before any of you tried to sleep beneath them later on, and walked into the en-suite bathroom. She drew a nice bath, taking the extra minutes to add your favorite bath bomb into the warm water and light the few candles that remained around the edge of the tub. Bubbles were a must, you demanded them every time either of the redheads even suggested taking a bath, so while the water was still running Wanda added them to the tub as well. You didn’t like a hot bath, a fact that you had been sure to tell Natasha when she’d first tried to lower you into an aftercare session with one, so Wanda figured she had plenty of time to go back and collect you while the water cooled down some more. She could already see the bath bomb coloring the water pink as she left, and she knew both yours and her skin would smell like strawberries and vanilla once you crawled out and dried off. 

You had come back to yourself the faintest bit when Wanda re-entered the bedroom. You’d curled up onto your side, your head resting on one of your arms as you let your eyes remain closed. At the sound of her gentle footsteps, wide eyes still glassy shot open and searched for her. Unlike the state you’d been in when she left to run the bath, you were able to recognize her presence now and you made that very clear. “Mommy!” You cried, a fresh set of tears brimming your eyes as you reached a single hand out to her. Wanda kneeled down in front of the bed, gently taking your hand in hers and kissing it softly.

The hand that wasn’t occupied reach out to brush strands of fallen hair away from your face, and as expected, when she ran the pad of her thumb over your bottom lip, your tongue shot out to lick at it before soft lips claimed it entirely. Wanda smiled fondly, her other fingers gently stroking against your cheek. “Privet, moya milaya devochka.” 

You were still too far gone to comprehend the Russian sentence that you had become familiar with, but that didn’t bother Wanda who hadn’t been expecting a response in the first place. You were falling out of your head fairly quickly, and she worried that your humiliation was the leading factor in your unwillingness to let the fog linger fully. 

“Left.” You croaked pitifully around the soft weight of her thumb in your mouth, your wide eyes desperate for her to understand the message you were trying to convey and not let it happen again. 

“I didn’t leave.” Wanda shook her head firmly, placing another kiss to the top of your hand that curled around hers tightly, unwilling to let go for even a single second. You were always clingy when she got you in this state, and she adored every second of it. “Mommy ran us a bath. We’ve gotta get cleaned up.” She promised you, and at the mention of one of your favorite activities, your torso shot up from the bed and her hand fell away from your face. You wobbled in your disoriented and fuzzy state, leaning into her touch when she reached out to stabilize you. “Come on, sweetheart. There are bubbles waiting for you!” 

Wanda helped you into the bathroom, easing herself into the tub before she helped you over the edge and into her arms. You didn’t go for her fingers like she’d anticipated, merely wiggling your way down in her embrace until your head fell onto the swell of her breast. Not wanting to question you when you were so sensitive, Wanda merely dragged her hand across the inside of your thigh as you sat sideways in her lap, transfixed on the sharp edge of her jaw that clenched when you got too far into her head. She’d have to remember to thank Natasha for pushing to get the bigger tub when they’d remodeled the bathroom years ago, it was certainly coming in handy now. Your body was washed with tender touches, the loofa used a light blue color and saturated in Wanda’s own body wash. She didn’t know why you continued to buy your own, when the only one who ended up using it was her after you’d taken the last of hers. 

It was a comfortable silence that fell over the both of you as the bath water slowly became colder and colder, and with each minute that passed in combination with Wanda’s gentle stroking of your hip or your cheeks, you fell firmly beneath the blanket of fuzzy emptiness that you’d been fighting off before. You felt so loved and so cared for, there wasn’t a single thought in your mind beside her. The humiliation of your accident had waned away, replaced by only flourishing warmth. 

Eventually, your lips began to root around for something to suckle on. Wanda’s fingers hadn’t moved to your mouth quick enough, and your tongue sought out the first soft thing that it could find. A gasp fell from Wanda’s lips when you took her sensitive nipple into your mouth, a sharp sensation shooting through her body that was in no way sexual. She’d always had her speculations about this kind of contact, but now that she had it for herself to experience, she understood. She had all of your mind in her hands at this moment, but you had all of her body. It was a delicate balance that further emphasized how your relationship could only thrive if all parties were equal and respected. Wanda trailed a soft finger over the bridge of your nose, her own scrunching up in admiration. 

“Find something you like, little one?” She teased, but there was no bite behind her words as she gently adjusted your latch to be more comfortable for the both of you. The bath water was officially cold, no longer able to be passed off as warm, but Wanda would allow you to sit in it just this once. She was always such a stickler for crawling out of the tub when the water went cold, but even she didn’t want to leave the intimacy of this moment as your eyes fluttered closed and your tongue made gentle sweeps across her nipple. “You did so good for me. So so good. Mommy’s so proud of you. My good girl.” She whispered delicate praise into the otherwise quiet bathroom, her eyes appreciating how the dim candle light made your glassy eyes glow like a fire had been placed behind them. 

She could faintly hear the front door open downstairs and she smiled knowing that Natasha had finally made it home. It wasn’t often that the Russian went into the office alone, but today had worked out weirdly and Wanda wouldn’t trade it for anything. Natasha had noticed how quiet the house was upon entering, and she tried her best not to disturb the stillness that you and Wanda had created. She took the stairs one at a time, peeking into Wanda’s office when she noticed the door was oddly ajar. Wanda either had the door firmly closed or entirely open, it was never left in the half-opened state it was now. Two pairs of shorts and the puddle on the floor told her everything she needed to know about what had happened while she was away at work. Anticipating your blissed out headspace and Wanda’s full hands, Natasha cleaned the scene, still dressed in business slacks and an off-white satin blouse. The chair had been scrubbed and sanitized, and the floor had been given the same treatment in only a matter of minutes. There was no need to buy a new chair now, and memories of this afternoon would linger in the room anytime either one of you set your sight on it. 

Natasha carried yours and Wanda’s shorts back into the bedroom. She picked up the pile of clothes that had been left on the floor, adding them to the laundry basket they kept hidden away in the closet before her own clothes were thrown on top. She dressed quickly, able to hear the one-sided conversation that was happening on the other side of the wall. 

“Daddy’s home.” Wanda cooed sweetly to you, her eyes filled with gentle love and admiration that felt so full she wanted to cry. You barely heard her words, and if you did, you didn’t fully comprehend them, but she didn’t expect you to. “She’ll be so proud of how good you were for Mommy. The best little duckling.” 

Natasha had decided then to make her presence known, two big and cozy towels in her hands. The initial sight of you and Wanda together had shocked her, her eyes transfixed on where her wife’s nipple was in your mouth, but she didn’t make it a big deal. Lowering herself onto the tile floor beside the tub, placing the towels just out of what she deemed the splash zone, the Russian reached out gently to caress your still flush cheeks. 

“How did this happen?” Natasha questioned Wanda, keeping her voice soft so as to not disturb you when you looked so content and fulfilled. The scent of strawberry and vanilla clung to the air in the bathroom, enough for Natasha to know that one of your favorite bath bombs had been thrown into the tub. 

“She’s down deep.” Wanda merely hummed, leaning over the edge of the tub to lay her lips against Natasha’s. “It was the first thing she found when she decided she needed something in her mouth.” Wanda laughed softly, the vibrations jostling her breasts much to your displeasure. Your hand fell onto the swell of her breast, keeping it still as you suckled contently despite the near interruption. 

“I can’t say I blame her.” Natasha teasingly pinched at Wanda’s nipple, not missing the way the Sokovian’s eyes fluttered closed and she chased the sensation when it was pulled away. Wanda had sensitive nipples, it was a known fact that Natasha loved to abuse, but something about this moment with you just felt entirely pure and wholesome. “Let me be the bad guy and get her out. You’re freezing.” Natasha frowned when she noticed just how cold to the touch Wanda’s skin was. She grabbed at you instantly, noticing that the sections of your skin that had been submerged in the water were just as cold as Wanda’s. 

You whined in protest when you were pulled away from Wanda’s chest and wrapped up like a little bug in the towel that Natasha had brought into the bathroom for you. Natasha didn’t bat an eye at your pitiful whimpering, carrying out of the bathroom and toward the guest bedroom when she gathered the hint that the comforter needed to be washed before any of you laid beneath it that night. It was scary how in tune she and Wanda could be at times, but you weren’t fully present enough to comment on their freaky telepathy. 

Natasha got you dressed into a pair of summer pajamas that still occupied the guest room from when you’d first started spending the night. Your clothes occupied nearly every room at this point, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She adored the little traces of your presence that popped up at random moments, which might be the reason why she no longer scolds you for leaving your shoes in every corner of the house despite the large collection at the front door. By the time you're beneath the blankets in the guest bed, Wanda’s coming into the room in a pair of pajama shorts, though she’s still void of a shirt. 

“Giving in so easily, moya lyubov’? And here I thought you were the strict one.” Natasha teased, knowing fully what Wanda had intended on when she purposefully left the matching top in the drawer where the shorts used to lay. 

“I introduced her to a lot today. I’m not going to try and get her to take my fingers when I know that’s not what she wants.” Wanda merely shrugged, allowing her soft heart to bleed into her words for the briefest minute before she was slipping back into the headspace you craved. “Come here, my little duckling. Let’s get you all comfy.” Wanda pulled your body into hers, guiding your lips down to her chest. Her nipple was sensitive, sore from the earlier abuse, but she didn’t mind the sting of pain that came when your lips wrapped firmly around her skin. “You did so good today, milaya. So good.” 

Natasha curled herself around Wanda, keeping you close between the both of them. It wasn’t long before your lips fell slack around Wanda’s nipple and your breathing evened out. Wanda and Natasha smiled down at you endearingly, deciding there was no harm in taking a little nap after the day that they'd had.

[kithtaehyung]

u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg

3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣

explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩

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“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 

“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 

Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 

“Barbie was great and you know it.” 

“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 

“I got this.” 

Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 

The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 

“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 

“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 

“So is the jersey?”

“I have two of these.”

“…I will never understand you.”

The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 

If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 

Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 

It’s magical. 

But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 

Ugh. 

At least he’s carrying everything. 

“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  

“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 

“The lights are so nice, though.” 

“Uh huh.” 

After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 

And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 

“Hey! You made it!” 

Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 

As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 

“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”

“For what?” 

“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 

Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 

When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 

“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.

“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 

“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 

“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 

“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 

His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 

Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 

Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 

“Yoongi! You, too?” 

Huh? Him, too? 

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 

Hot? What could possibly be—

Oh. 

Fucking.

Hell. 

It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 

And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 

You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 

Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 

How the fuck are you supposed to react! 

“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 

Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.

“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 

And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 

“Why?” 

“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 

Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.

But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 

“And you dressed basic for what?” 

Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 

Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 

But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 

“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 

“Won’t help you, doll.” 

Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 

Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 

“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 

Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 

And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 

Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 

You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 

Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.

And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  

Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 

Shit, you can’t do this. 

If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 

But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 

You [10:02pm]: what🥺 

“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 

From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 

Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 

You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕

Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 

Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 

It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 

So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 

You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 

It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 

Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 

Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 

You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 

You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 

This is bad. 

Why can’t he be super annoying instead—

Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 

Well. 

You [10:10pm]: 😐 

Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 

Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 

“I will once you stop sexting.” 

“We are not!” 

“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 

Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 

“A model.” 

He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 

“Yup.” 

Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 

Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 

Why does he have to say all the right things?

You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 

Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 

You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 

You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 

Wait. 

Have you ever been that bold? 

Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 

Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 

And rude. 

You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛

“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 

The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 

Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 

Nope. 

Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 

Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.

But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 

“You know what’s up.” 

“Dom!” 

“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 

Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 

“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 

“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 

Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my—”

Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 

“Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”

“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 

Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 

It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 

“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 

What? 

Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.

Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 

But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 

Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 

Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 

Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 

Fuck, what if his hand is better! 

Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 

Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 

But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…

That last card may have just saved your ass.

You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.

“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 

And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 

With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 

Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 

And outside of it. 

While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 

At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 

When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 

After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 

Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 

This is agonizing. 

Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 

Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.

Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 

Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 

Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 

Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 

But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 

He’s not like that anymore. 

But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 

Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 

How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 

Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.

You’d rather be standing together. 

Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.

Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 

The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 

You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  

“What’s your favorite candy?”

“Chocolate!”

“I like gummi bears.”

Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.

Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”

“Yeah! One sec.”

As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,

“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 

One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 

“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 

Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 

“Yeah!” 

Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 

But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 

“What’s up!”

“Come here real quick!”

When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 

When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”

“Okay!”

Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 

As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 

Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.

Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 

But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 

The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 

“Meow.” 

Oh. God.

Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 

And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 

“Yes, huh!” 

“No!” 

“Look! I have ears!” 

“No! You sound like a human!” 

“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 

Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 

Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 

One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 

When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 

But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 

“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 

You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 

But what you do know? 

You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 

“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”

Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”

“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 

There’s one other thing you know for sure. 

Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 

Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.

Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 

An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 

But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 

Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 

To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.

“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 

Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 

“I am!” 

As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 

“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 

Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 

“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 

“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 

Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 

You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 

Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 

Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 

“When?”

“At Hobi’s?”

“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 

“It does—!” 

Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 

“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 

Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 

If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 

More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 

“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.

Your brother was right yet again. 

There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 

Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 

There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 

Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 

Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 

“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 

“Hey!” 

The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 

Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.

And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.

Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  

And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 

“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 

And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 

Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 

Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 

Still a goddamn menace. 

“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 

“I am.” 

“So do something!” 

“Am I holding a basketball?” 

Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 

“Fine.” 

And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 

All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 

“Don’t listen to him.” 

“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 

Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 

“Whose side are you on!” 

“You got something to say?” 

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 

While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 

“No, I’ll make it.” 

He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 

Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 

Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.

“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 

“The haunted house?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 

And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 

While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 

Huh. 

Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 

“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 

Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 

As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...

He’s already walking away. 

And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 

Umm.

What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 

…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?

Motherfucker.

Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 

So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  

But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 

Because he’s watching that dude leave. 

Looking pissed. 

Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—

He’s not—

What is he doing?

He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 

Right?

…This is bold as fuck. 

Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 

“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 

Damn. No subtlety this time?

You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 

But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done this sooner.”

“You didn’t know.” 

“Doesn’t matter.”

When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 

Yoongi is actually furious.  

Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 

Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 

They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 

Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  

“Y’all good over there?”

“Yeah.” 

Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 

That’s probably best for everyone involved. 

“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.

And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 

“Okay.” 

No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 

But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 

The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 

Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 

And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.

The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 

But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 

So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 

Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 

Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 

But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 

Did you feel jealous? Upset? 

To your pleasant surprise, not really. 

Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 

You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 

All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 

A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 

“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”

As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 

So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 

Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 

“You good to go home with your friends?” 

Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 

“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 

“The fuck? On Halloween?” 

He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 

Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 

And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?

Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 

You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 

“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 

“K.”  

He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 

Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 

Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.

After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 

Maybe you should have left, too. 

Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.

But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 

Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?

Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 

You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..

Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t

Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 

This is it. 

This is why you stayed. 

Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 

Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll

And you will wait forever. 

However long it takes.

You [12:51am]: ok

It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.

Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 

All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 

But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 

So unfair.

In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 

And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 

Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 

“Come here.” 

“You sure?” 

He hesitates. 

And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 

But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 

What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?

There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.

God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 

But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 

However. 

When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 

“Yoongi…?” 

With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 

Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 

Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 

As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.

And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.

“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”

His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 

“Is that what you want?”

Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”

“Me to suck you dry.”

You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 

His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”

That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.

You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 

“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 

“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”

“Good.” 

You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 

Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.

There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.

And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”

“Yoongi—”

Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 

Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”

“You taste so fucking good.” 

More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”

Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 

“Yoo—”

And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 

For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 

Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.

But you can tell something’s off.

He’s holding back.

Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?

If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.

So what’s with the sudden hesitation?

Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 

“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 

“Please what.” 

“I need you.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 

“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 

Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 

Were they always that loud?

“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 

Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 

Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 

“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 

“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”

“You don’t.”

Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 

Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.

And you’ll let him.

Consequences be damned. 

“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”

Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 

Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.

Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.

“Thought I was boring.”

Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Say sorry then.”

It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”

Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”

Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 

“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”

Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 

All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 

Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”

Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”

“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 

“This wouldn’t get old?” 

“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”

Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”

“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 

He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.

“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 

“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”

“Just make me forget it.”

He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 

And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 

You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.

If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.

But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,

“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 

“Wait, why—”

“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”

Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 

“Yoongi, what—” 

He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 

And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.

You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.

“Baby, you sure?”

“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 

Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 

“We don’t have to, doll.” 

And if you’re honest… 

The thrill of it is enticing.

“We can.” 

“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 

A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 

“Not telling.” 

Of course. “You suck.” 

Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 

Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 

Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 

And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”

“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 

“No, but—fuck.” 

Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 

“God, you’re so perfect.” 

Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 

“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 

Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 

“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 

Oh. 

You know why he’s holding you so hard. 

And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 

Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 

But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 

Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 

So you vow to make that reality. 

“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”

Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 

Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 

Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 

His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 

And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 

Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 

Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 

“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 

Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—

A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 

Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 

Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 

But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 

So fucking unfair. 

Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 

Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 

Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 

And you recognize both of them. 

“—like you said, right?” 

“I know, but…” 

It’s Tae. 

And Jimin. 

“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 

The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 

“You really think so?” 

There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 

Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!

When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  

What the fuck is he doing! 

This man is going to be the end of you. 

“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 

“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 

Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 

And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 

Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 

You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 

Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 

And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 

“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 

“Most of it was your idea.” 

“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 

Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 

“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 

“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 

A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 

“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 

“You just sat on it.” 

“I didn’t sit on that side.” 

Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  

“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 

Adrenaline still at its peak. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” 

“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 

After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 

“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 

“Do you want to?” 

You pause. 

If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 

But if you stay… 

“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”

“Fuck no.” 

Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 

And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 

So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”

“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 

You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 

Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 

A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 

“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 

Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,

“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 

Holy fuck, what? 

“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“We don’t have—”

“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 

What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 

Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 

When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 

“Sure you didn’t.” 

He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 

Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 

“We don’t have to.” 

Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 

But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 

Fuck. 

Do you really go for it? 

You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 

…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 

“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 

His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 

Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 

“So fucking wet.” 

Fuck. 

“Gonna take this dick so well.” 

Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 

“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 

Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 

Well, you think he’s on the same page. 

Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 

Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 

“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 

You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 

You feel bad. 

And it feels fantastic. 

“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 

When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 

After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 

When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Good girl.” 

As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 

Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 

Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—

“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.

“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”

Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 

Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.

“Show me up then.”

He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.

Oh, he’s a killer. 

And he’s all yours.

Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.

Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.

Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.

Which is the worst best thing to do. 

“Fuck, doll.”

With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.

“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 

And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 

You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 

“Breathe in for me.”

And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 

Fuck! 

Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 

“Again.”

When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 

“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,

“So good.” 

“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”

Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”

He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”

You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 

“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.

After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”

You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 

And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 

Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.

Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.

How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 

“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”

He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 

You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 

And definitely other people, too.

But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.

“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”

You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 

And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,

“Then come for me, doll.”

Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.

“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”

And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 

“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”

Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 

“Baby, I’m still—”

“Fuck—”

You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.

“D—”

You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”

“No, but—”

“Take it off.”

Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 

Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 

Because you want this. He’s earned this. 

Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 

This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 

When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 

Yoongi is fighting for his life. 

You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 

And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 

He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.

“Open that mouth.”

You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.

“Goddamn.”

You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.

It looks like he wants to say something. 

But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 

As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 

But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 

As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 

Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 

“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 

His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 

"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 

Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 

And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 

If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.

Even if they frightened you to death. 

Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 

After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 

With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.

And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.

But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 

When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 

And you dissolve into mush yet again.

Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 

You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  

What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 

Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 

It’s definitely with Yoongi. 

Right now, you know your home is with him. 

Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 

You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 

Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒

Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 

And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 

Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 

He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.

And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.

Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)

Happy Halloween indeed. 

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end :)

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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.

++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[s-4pphics]

click! 3 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 7.4k 

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black :3, crack, light smut [masturbation], sexual tension… it’s starting, light angst, weed, brief mention of suicide, pretty cute tbh

one. two. four.

A/N: hi stinks :3 i’m obsessed with them….. taking my time with these two hope yall like it LOL bye

Butterflies are fluttering, birds are chirping, and the crops are watered when you wake. You slept through the entire night, and the beast inside you is satisfied. 

But the gorgeous scenery in your mind dies in an instant when you recall what the fuck you did last night. Maybe you are a low-down, dirty whore, just like your roomie said. She has the audacity to terrorize your subconscious enough to actually feature in one of your meat-beat sessions. Not only that, but you busted in two minutes to the thought of her demanding you to fix a window that isn’t even broken. 

You… are a hoe. How awkward. You just wanted to fight her days ago, and now your pussy’s got a crush. Not you, your pussy. You accepted that you and your cunt are two separate entities a long time ago. 

You lay in your bed, eyes melting holes into the ceiling; What the fuck is going on?

Ellie… sex… her asking for head… you asking for head from her… The math isn’t mathing. Ellie’s gay as a bitch, you know that for a fact, but why her? The math has never mathed, actually. You’re going to fail statistics, speaking of… Is statistics considered math? 

It’s still freezing in your apartment. Is Ellie still not back yet? Your shared space is never this silent or cold; A rat could be crawling around in search of cheese and you would hear it like a hounddog. 

You throw your blankets off and instantly regret it; You’re shocked snow isn’t falling from inside your fucking apartment. It has to be negative thirty in this bitch. If Ellie’s asleep, you don’t know how she survived the night. 

Your knees crack as you quietly pull your door open, light creaks from the hardwood sounding your walk to Ellie’s bedroom. You can’t imagine how crazy you look, ear pressed against her door, listening for any movement to prove that she’s alive and not a fucking block of ice. 

Either you’re hallucinating, or she’s mumbling in her sleep. Her voice is hushed and croaky, supposedly asking if Spider-man stole her fucking lunch money to pay the Pope back for stealing… something; You can’t pick up what she said from out here. Your hand flies over your mouth to hide a laugh. She must be exhausted; When did she get back last night? 

You let her sleep-talk in peace and head to the kitchen to brew your coffee. You really beat off to that bonehead. Go figure. 

For the first time since Ellie moved in, you’re gone before her. 

You’re strolling the icy streets, strutting to your heart’s content, Tina Snow vibrating your eardrums. Last night’s nut really did something incredible to your spirit; You’ve never felt lighter. One more unsuspecting gust of wind and you’re taking flight, for sure. Your brain gives subconscious Ellie knuckles. 

You burst through the coffee shop like you own it, silently celebrating when you realize there’s no line. You order and receive your dark drink in record time, taking a seat by the large window at the back of the shop. What gorgeous scenery! 

Your cup is almost empty when your phone vibrates on the table. It’s Maymay! You answer with the brightest smile. “My babyyy— “

“Bitch, cut the shit! Fuck you! Why haven’t you called?” She yells through the line. 

“Well, uh…” You almost committed arson in your building! “Just… just school stuff! You wouldn’t know about that, Ms. Celebrity!” 

Your best friend giggles, “Shut up! I’m a D-lister at most!” You shake your head in denial; That internship program doesn’t understand the blessing that Amaya holds. Her ear is godsend and she comprehends sound like no other. 

“How’s the roomie thing going? I haven’t heard much!” 

Oh, fuck. “… Fine.” 

She’s silent for a second, “The fuck does that mean?” 

Your fingernail snaps between your teeth. “I mean it’s fine, just like I said.” 

Amaya hums, clearly suspicious, “… Whatever you say, then.” 

“Yup.” 

She snorts. “Anyway… what’re you doing for Chri— “

“Ellie made me bust with her telepathy.” This is not the conversation you should be having in a coffee shop, but if people heard you, fuck it. 

“… Bitch… What?” 

“I didn’t wanna tell you, okay? I didn't! Incel made her way into my fucking brain and I busted! Sue me!” 

Silence passes, and then there’s laughter from the other line. “Are you high right now?” 

“No, it’s fucking nine in the morning— “

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a lil’ wake-and-bake— “

“I just told you I mentally fucked my roomie and that’s what you say?” 

She sighs, “I mean… I saw the picture you sent me. She's not ugly. Doesn’t seem like your type, though.” 

“She’s not my type! I thought about her for two seconds on accident and I came! Abby couldn’t even get me there and she—” 

“Woah, woah, pause… Abby couldn’t get you where?” 

“Not a location, bitch. I couldn’t bust!” A sharp gasp from her. Your brows furrow, “What?” 

“Oh, bitch…”

“What, Maya?” 

You hear the smile in her tone, “You gotta crush?” 

You gag, “Fuck no! Have you lost your mind! My…” You pause and check to see if anyone’s near. Nobody. You whisper-shout into the speaker, “My pussy’s crushing!” 

Amaya sucks her teeth in annoyance, “Girl…”

“It’s true! You know she gotta mind of her own! I can’t do anything about that!” 

Your bestie’s snickering to herself, “Whatever you say, mama. But for someone that thinks with her clit… you might wanna have a conversation with her. You know her better than anybody.” 

You’re stunned to say the least. You love Amaya to death, but she’s batshit crazy to suggest that you’re crushing on someone like Ellie. She called you a worthless tramp in broad daylight, for fucks sake. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it still stung a little. 

You sip your coffee, “I love you… I gotta go.” 

“Mhm…” You hate how sure she sounds. “Love you, too.” 

You nervously twiddle your fingers until your first class, the day dragging even more than usual. Mainly due to the fact that you’re wondering if Amaya was right. Your lectures feel like a blur; All you can think about is Ellie. The spot-covered hermit. Squash-loving loser with a decent nose… and decent hands… and decently toned arms. 

Your pussy squeezes in the middle of class when you briefly envision them wrapped around you, and it sends a shockwave to your brain. 

Oh, shit. 

Raja was sweet enough to cover your shift for you; You can’t focus on credit card sales today. 

The second you enter your freezing apartment, you hear quiet sobs. Ellie sits at the small table as she scrolls through her phone, forms scattered all over the glass. She’s sniffling and wiping her face with her hoodie sleeve, and your brows crease. 

You shut the door behind you before making your way over to her. Not too close, though. 

“Uhh… you good?” 

“Yeah.” Her voice breaks, and something shifts in you. Somewhere in your chest. Why’re her cheeks so red?

“… You sure?” You cringe. 

“I said yeah.” 

She clearly doesn’t want to chat. Whatever’s going on, she can handle on her own. She doesn’t need coddling, especially from you. Why’re you still standing here?

“I, uh… I found a Snicker’s.” You slip. 

Ellie finally faces you, clearly confused. Why can’t you just shut the hell up for once? Another shift from your chest at her teary eyes. 

“What?” 

“I mean, uh, I bought a Snicker’s. Like, candy.” You pull said bar from your puffer pocket. You did buy it for Abby for when you see her to study, but it looks like your roomie needs it more. 

“… Okay?” 

You pull out and hand the wrapped chocolate out to her, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.” 

Her eyes switch between your face and the candy bar; She doesn’t look impressed. Maybe she’s allergic to nuts! You knew you should’ve got the fucking Sour Straws—

“Thanks.” 

You barely register her taking the bar, her cold fingers brushing against yours. Another zap in your brain. She rips it open and eats it in silence. An awkward chuckle from you, “Is it yummy?” You expect her to tell you to fuck off, but she doesn’t. She just nods and chews. 

Your nosiness gets the best of you, discreetly inspecting the forms on the table. A bunch of random names are crossed out in her notebook, a couple of signed forms crumpled up and raggedy. You don’t know what any of this means. 

“You’re not slick.” Ellie talks with her mouth full.

“Hm?” 

“You’re really gonna read my shit like that?” 

You take a seat next to her, “… I didn’t.” 

“Okay,” She mumbles. “Remember…” She scratches at her ear, “Remember that booking that got canceled because of the storm?” You nod. She swallows the last bits of her candy. “I was supposed to take pictures of this couple before their wedding, but…” 

“They, uh… They don’t wanna reschedule. Said it’s too hectic because of the holidays and there’s not enough time.” 

You hum, “Okay… So, what does that mean?” 

“I can’t submit my portfolio without those pictures. And it fucked my money up.” 

“Damn… how much were they paying?” 

She scoffs, “A lot. I don’t even wanna think about how much I lost trying to get the setup right.” 

You ponder for a second, “I mean, I’m sure there’s other people who want nice pics. You’ve been hustling this whole time— “

She interrupts, “I don’t wanna hustle anymore. I’m… I’m tired. It’s fucking exhausting doing promotions by yourself.” 

You hear the stress in her voice, and you feel for her. Being a full-time creative can be pretty shitty at times. Most times. The amount of attempts you’ve had in commissioning in your lifetime is astronomical; Some pick-ups, lots of disappointment. 

“What was the shoot about? Like… the scene, I guess.” 

Ellie nibbles at her lip, “Romance.” 

“Boooring,” You joke. Ellie doesn’t laugh, so you cough awkwardly. “You gotta come up with a new plan, I guess. It’s all about the grind mentality.” 

“You sound like a misogynist with a podcast.” 

You chuckle and she continues, “There’s no new plan. The portfolio I’m submitting is based on emotion. It’s not… complete if love isn’t somewhere in there. That’s how I see it.” 

“Speaking of see, can I?” You arch your brow, “Your portfolio, I mean.” 

“No.” She says plainly. 

“Wha— why not? You saw my paintings!” 

“They’re on the wall… in the living room. There’s no other choice but to look at them.” 

“Bro, what the fuck. You’re not the only visualist in this house! I might have some pointers you could use!” 

“I don’t need pointers from you.” Aggravation clouds her pupils. You try not to take offense to that, but it doesn’t work. 

“Why the fuck not?” You glare. 

Her tone gets louder, “Because you wouldn’t understand it! Why do you wanna help so badly, anyway!”

“I’m—“ But you don’t know what to say. Why do you want to help? Ellie squints, awaiting your answer, but nothing comes out. You’re uncomfortable; It’s suddenly not that cold in here. 

“Whatever. Forget I asked!” You rise and march to your room. Another slammed door, another pending noise complaint. 

Ellie hasn’t talked to you in days, and you’re not sure why it’s bothering you. You’ve been sending her looks throughout the entire stats lecture, but she hasn’t acknowledged you once. She’s just scribbling and tapping her ballpoint on her notebook. Her notetaking seems very intense from where you sit, her eyes scanning the board. 

Does Ellie like math? Or logistics? Or whatever statistics is considered? Curiosity pokes at you; You don’t know much about your roommate. You’ve been living together for nearly a month, and you haven’t had one valuable conversation yet. What about photography interests Ellie so much? Why does she enjoy disgusting vegetables? When did she get her tattoo? Is she actually gay or are you a dickhead for assuming? 

Your venturing thoughts makes class fly by; Another successful day of not taking useful notes! 

Ellie’s packing her run-down backpack and you watch. She’s meticulously placing her books on top of each, at least from what you can see from the big hole on the side. Her headphones are thrown on, and in one swift motion, her bag is on her shoulder and she’s heading towards the door, holding it open for everyone leaving. 

You swiftly pack and walk towards the exit. Ellie’s too distracted by her phone to notice you turn the corner to watch her. All the students vacant the room, and she lets the door shut. You follow from a distance as she moves towards the staircase, down the steps, out into the quad and onto the open field. She pauses, so you do too. 

You follow her line of vision, right at the sky. It’s pretty today: the sun’s peeking out, just barely, from underneath the dark gray clouds, rays of light highlighting various sections of the quad. 

Ellie unzips and digs in her bag, retrieving the olive-green polaroid before setting her bag down on the frosted grass. She maneuvers around the grass, trying to avoid obstruction from the trees, adjusting her stance, picking the best angle before holding her camera up. One quick flash, and she’s holding a photo of the sky. 

She shakes the picture a bit before squatting to search through her bag, pulling out a large binder and placing the photo in a laminated encasing. You can’t see any of the pictures in detail, but there must be a lot in there. That binder is thick as fuck. 

And just like that, she’s off into the cold. 

You wonder what else is in that binder. 

You’re starving. The second you get that direct deposit, you’re whipping up something fierce. Shrimp and eggplant have been calling your name for weeks; You’re ravenous for it. 

You run up to the apartment to snag a granola bar, Ellie already in the kitchen, propped against the counter eating Kraft mac and cheese. 

You shut the door behind you, “Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it?” 

Ellie stops chewing, eyes large and soft cheeks filled with creamy noodles. “Hm?” 

You walk to the cupboards, mouthwatering for Nature Valley, “It’s just beautiful outside! The trees, the sky! Almost pretty enough to paint, ain’t it!” 

More chewing. She just shrugs, but you’re not having it, “I wish I gotta picture!” 

“… Go take one.” 

“Oh, my fucking god,” you mutter to yourself, “Can I see the picture you took earlier?” 

“… How’d you know— “

“The details aren’t important! I was thinkiiing,” you rip open the wrapping, “if I can’t see your portfolio, I can see that giant photo book you have!” 

She glances around awkwardly, “Were you watching me earlier?” 

“… Well, yes— “

“What the fu— why?” 

“I like seeing people do shit they enjoy.” You shrug and bite your bar. Ellie isn’t looking at you, but her cheeks tint, and it makes you grin. Interesting. 

You chew and swallow, “Especially talented people.” You inch closer, just barely. “You should show me some pictures sometime… I’ll show you some of my secret creations, too. A little exchange, if you will.” 

Her fingers clench around her plastic spoon, and her breathing changes, cheeks even brighter. Her hands are very nice… They look so soft. 

“Think about it,” you say, quieter, just between the two of you, “Call it… roommate bonding.” You crunch and adjust your bag before walking towards the door. “I think it’s overdue!” You throw over your shoulder before shutting the door behind you. 

You’re not sure if Ellie likes or hates compliments. 

Closing was so hectic; you don’t make it home until one in the morning. Training rookies is probably the worst part about working in hardware; They never know where shit goes. 

You don’t feel tired, though. The drive back home is usually when your exhaustion takes over, but this ride was smooth. Sleep is going to be difficult to come by tonight. 

You unlock your front door and… push. And push. And push again. What the fuck. Something’s blocking the door. You fight with the wood until the crack is wide enough to slip through. The smell in the air is very telling as to why there’s a pile of hoodies blocking the slim opening at the bottom of the door. 

Your mouth gapes at the sight of Ellie on the couch with no pants on, blunt in her hand… blowing O’s. Her eyes are glistening and lazy when she opens them. You quickly shut the door and kick the hoodies in their original position before the scent escapes. 

“Hey,” she mutters. Goosebumps rise on your arms at her voice. 

“… Why the fuck are you chiefing in this no smoke building.” 

She stares like you’re stupid. “De-stressing.”

“Deez-fucking nuts! Ellie, we’re not gonna have a place to sleep if we get caught. Bitch ass Carol doesn’t play that shit.” You hate your landlord with every fiber of your being. The second anyone accidentally breaks a rule, she’s on their ass like grass. You can’t imagine how she’s going to react if she sees Ellie being disobedient on purpose. You’ll both be living out of your car. Fucking hag. 

Your roommate sighs and crosses her legs, boxer shorts riding up her taut thighs. Alright, okay. She pats the empty cushion next to her. 

“I'm bored.” 

“Okay, what about it.” 

She taps the cushion again. Your heartbeat spikes for some reason. “Roommate bonding.” 

You gawk. Ellie’s never been this relaxed in your presence. Her posture is incredibly comfortable, leaning back against the propped pillows, manspreading. Why is it attractive?

So, you drop your bag and unzip your puffer before plopping down next to her. She says nothing, just extends the lit herb to you. You look between her and the big B. “That’s a fat doinker.” 

“… Right.” Ellie puffs once more before attempting to share. 

You push her cold hand back softly, “I don’t smoke.” 

“Okay.” One last long pull from her, and she’s putting out the grass on the ashtray. “Do you wanna play checkers?” She exhales around smoke clouds, cold air blowing in from the barely cracked window. 

“… What.” 

“I said do you wanna play checke— “ 

“Are you a lesbian?” 

Your eyes widen at your own question. Interrogation? Fuck. Ellie’s looking around the warm space blankly as if she’s trying to register what the fuck you just said. You’re a fucking asshole. 

“E-Ellie, I’m sorry, I dunno why I asked— “

“Can you not tell.” 

“Well, yeah.” You stutter, “… But I thought it was like… fucked up to assume based on uh, appearances, or whatever. I don’t have good gay-dar, so.” 

“I’ve been called a carpet muncher since I was eight.” 

“… Fuck, really?” She nods, face flat. Your fist extends, silently asking for knuckles, “Me too! That’s what’s up.” 

“I almost killed myself.”

Your fist drops with your expression. “Oh… uh, damn… Sorry… I’m glad you didn’t, though, real shit.” 

“What does love feel like?” 

This conversation is giving you whiplash. “Are you one of those fake-deep potheads? Like, you believe in flat earth and all that other bullshit?” 

Ellie blinks dumbly, “Uhh… I don’t think so…” 

“Why do you ask?” 

Ellie points at the wall, at one of your paintings. Two women laying on a bed of grass, completely at peace, surrounded by colorful flowers and butterflies. A small smile spreads across your face, recalling how excited you were to show your first girlfriend what you made for her birthday. 

“Love feels like you're getting shot… but not in a bad way.” You ramble. “It’s like… like, fuck I’m really gonna die without this person next to me type shit.” You think back to when you made the painting on the wall, the memories of your younger self so deeply infatuated with another person for the first time. It felt eternal back then, souls interconnected. 

But then your eyes travel to the next painting, right below the latter. Complete void, no color, no life, just darkness, and your expression falls. The faceless girl trapped in the center of madness is calm, though, accepting her doom with grace. 

“That makes it worse, though…” You think of Dina and how you fought. How nasty it got. How disgusted she seemed with your presence. You almost want to cry as you relive it. “When they leave… something inside you really does die. That space never really gets filled again. You’re just kinda… stuck with a hole until you croak over.” 

“What if they don’t leave?” 

They all leave. “��� I’m not sure yet.” 

Ellie hums and it goes quiet for a moment. You wonder what she’s thinking about. 

“Are you a lesbian?” Your roommate throws back at you. You laugh, “Are you asking if I eat coochie?” 

Ellie nods with a giggle. You stiffen; This is the first time you’ve heard her laugh. The hairs on your arms stand upright at the sound. 

“As a matter of fact, I do!” Ellie laughs harder, head resting against the back of the couch. You watch the apple of her cheeks heighten. But then the wind blows harder than normal and they drop. She's blank again. “The heater…” 

“What about it?” 

“It’s broken…” 

Fuck. “Did you put in a maintenance request?” Her head shakes. 

“Uh… why not?” 

“Because I heard you masturbating and forgot.” 

Your heart, stomach, pride is at your feet, “… What did you just say.” 

Ellie finally looks at you, eyes doe-like, guilt swimming in them. “I’m… I’m sorry! I was sleeping and I woke up to pee but I couldn’t because you were— “

“Ellie— “

“It kept… buzzing, and I couldn’t move! I kept asking

myself how is her stamina this fucking good! It didn’t turn off until like… an hour later! I almost pissed in my bed— “

Your body heats at her confession; She thought about your stamina? You place a hand on her shoulder to ease her, and she stops. “It’s okay. I just… Yeah, this is awkward… We gotta submit that request before that next blizzard or we’re fucked.” 

Ellie mutters in agreement, but she’s not listening. She’s eyeing your fingers, the ones resting on her shirt. If you move your thumb an inch, you’ll touch her collarbone. 

“We, um… We can send it in the morning…” She whispers okay, and your fingers curl around the fabric. A sharp inhale from her, and you sigh. Her warm breath is hitting your wrist and you’re trying not to squirm. You watch her chest rise and fall at a steady pace, eyes flicking between yours and your hand. 

You watch her and she watches you, hand inching up until you’re tracing the warm skin under her tee. Your nail scratches her collarbone, just barely, and the muscles in her thigh jerk. Nope. Not happening. You pull away and stand. 

“This was… you’re funny.” You stare at your feet; You never took your shoes off. “Uh… bye.” 

“Bye.” Her voice is flat. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you fucked up. 

Your shoes go flying and you rush to your room. You’re not sure if you slammed the door or not; The pounding in your ears is too loud. 

Ellie fucked up. She knows she did. 

I heard you masturbating and forgot? You left over an hour ago, and she’s still replaying that moment in her mind. What the fuck was she thinking? She wants to peel her skin off and her stomach is in knots. The ghost of your hand is still on her. She was freezing before you came home, and now she’s overheating. 

Ellie thinks she’s done a good job of acting normally around you after that night. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about it. All the time. 

She hates how, every night since it happened, she listens for you. When you come home in the wee hours of the night, the devil convinces her that you’re aching and desperate, dripping and ready to get yourself to the peak you crave. You’ve been working so hard; You deserve to wind down. 

It’s sick, she knows. She masks it well, but every time you're home, she’s hot. Roommate bonding, you’d said. Why did you say it like that, though? You sounded so alluring, like a siren preparing for a kill. 

Maybe she’s reading into it too much. You're a flirt and you’re good at it… 

It’s either hot or cold with you. Compliments, or cursing. Admiration or judgment. There’s no middle ground, and it’s driving her crazy. 

Why did you have to touch her? You could’ve kept your distance like you’ve been doing, like you did in the kitchen. You gave her a chance to run at arm's length. 

Ellie’s thoughts are racing; She needs to smoke again, but she’s too distracted to spark. That ache between her thighs is overpowering. 

Her eyes travel over the painting that captured her attention a few weeks ago. A small self portrait of you. She commends your attention to detail, but still, you’re so gorgeous in person; There’s no comparison. 

Two deep breaths, and her hand is shoved in her boxers, fingers slippery in seconds. She keeps her eyes glued to the painting as she rubs her clit in quick circles, the bud increasing her sensitivity. 

It’s like the painting moves with every squeeze of her walls: she can almost see your animated eyes rolling into your skull, your pink tongue out, drool dripping down your chin. And your voice… It’s tantalizing when you want something. She can almost hear you now: it’s so good, right there, I love when you touch me like that. 

Fuck, she wants your hands on her. Everywhere. Anywhere you want. She’s breathing so loud; She hopes you dozed off by now, even in your noticeably restless state. 

But what if you’re not? What if you forgot something in the living room, or need a drink of water before bed, and you walk in and see the mess you make her? Her hand moves faster at the thought of you angry, disappointed that she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. She’ll never say, but something wicked happens in her underwear when you're fuming. She likes how expressive your eyes are. 

Her free hand flies over her mouth as her stomach tightens, the beats in her clit and heart synced. She's so close. A few seconds, and she groans into her hand, the walls melting around her when it finally crashes. Tears jerk in her eyes as she rubs herself through it, riding it out for as long as she can. 

The hand on her mouth slides under her shirt, cold fingers prodding her nipple as her orgasm descends. She gasps into the cold air, trying to catch her breath. She palms her clit and her walls twitch. She tiredly plops onto the couch, hand still in her underwear, eyes glued to your portrait, scaling the wall until she revisits the depiction of you and your first girlfriend. 

The idea Ellie’s been sitting on for the last few days crashes down on her again. You’re soft, despite what others may say. You seem like a lover. 

It’s Friday. Rent is due. Fuck. 

You just got paid, and now more than half of your earnings is in your landlord's pocket. You haven’t even been grocery shopping yet. 

Ellie has, apparently. It smells so good in the kitchen. You take back whatever you said about her and her cheffing skills. That soup was delicious; You secretly hope she cooks more. She can get down… a little bit. 

You wipe the tired from your eyes and make way to the kitchen, and your jaw drops, stunned in your spot by the fridge. Empty grocery bags are stacked on the counter, and Ellie’s frying shrimp and eggplant. 

“Hi… you didn’t eat last night. I heard you talking about egg— “

Your whimper, followed by several guttural sobs interrupt her greeting, hand flying over your mouth. Ellie simply stands by the counter with wide eyes, fork in hand. 

Ellie thinks you’ve stopped crying, “Uh… I just wante— “

More loud sobs from you. Snot dribbles down from your nose and Ellie cringes, tearing a piece of paper towel and handing it to you. You take it graciously and blow your nose. 

“This is,” sob “the best thing a-anyone,” sniffle… sob “has ever done f-for me.”

Ellie just nods and flips the eggplant. You can’t control yourself, arms wrapping around her waist, sobbing into her back. 

“I, um… Consider it a peace offering, I guess.” 

“I take back,” heave “I take back whatever dumb shit I said about you before you moved in,” heave “You’re so… fuck you, Ellie!” You hug her tighter. 

“Queers gotta stick together.” She mumbles. 

“Like wet pussy lips!” You wail, fat tears seeping into her t-shirt. She snickers to herself, “Get a plate.” 

You sniffle all the way to the cupboards and set the tiny table. 

Chef Butch. That’s Ellie’s new name around these parts. 

For someone who supposedly “hates eggplant”, she seasoned and fried the fuck out of it. Get this bitch on the Food Network!

You’re full and energized before leaving the house for once. You don’t even need your morning coffee. 

“Hey, uh… can I ask you something?” Ellie calls from the table.

You pause dish scrubbing to look at her, “Mhm.” 

“It’s kinda… a big deal.” She mutters, eyes flickering nervously. 

“… Should I sit down, or?”

“It’s not bad. It’s just… I don’t know.” 

You rinse your hands and set the last plate on the rack to dry. You grab a clean towelette and sit across from her. Ellie can’t meet your eyes and her cheeks are fiery. You smirk. 

“Need help with something?” 

Her head bobs, eyes glued to the table. 

“Then ask me.” You lean closer. Ellie whispers your name. A deep sigh from her, lips parting around her question. 

“Do you wanna model for my portfolio— “

“Of course I’ll help you send nudes— “

Confusion paints her face, “What.”

“…What.” 

“What did you just say.” 

“Nothing.” You shrug, face burning. 

“You can say no. It’s not that serious.” That guarded twinge in Ellie’s voice has returned. You don’t like it. 

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease with a pout. 

“What.” 

“You think I’m sooo hot and sexy that you’re gonna make me the star of your— “

Ellie blushes, “You’re not the… star of anyth— “

Your hands wave excitedly, “I’m so honored! I’d love to! When do we start!” 

Ellie sighs, massaging her temples, “Do you have work on Sunday?” 

“Not anymore!” You do a little dance in your seat, “What am I gonna be doing in the pics, o ye camera master?” Her ears are so red. Why is she so fucking nervous? You’ve already accepted! 

“Just look like you’re in love.” 

“… Oh.” 

Ellie grimaces at your tone, “Listen, I only have two weeks to finish this submission. I haven’t had any luck finding people to help me out!” 

You pause, “Is this why you buttered me up with a buss down plate?” 

“… Would you hate me if I said yes?” 

“Fuck, Ellie— “

“I’m desperate!” She exclaims, “But I also don’t wanna just ask anybody! I need the photos to be believable! And you kinda… you kinda get it!” Ellie points to the painting of you and your first love. 

The silence is thick as you explore her face. Her forestry-filled eyes are nervous, but there’s a glimmer of hope in her pupils. You like it; Her orbs look brighter. Greener somehow.

“I wanna see it, then.” 

“See what?” 

“Your big ass binder… and your portfolio!” 

Her eyes roll. “Pick one.” 

“Wooow, you’re really gonna ruin another opportunity for roommate bonding? That’s wild. Alright.” 

“Pick one.” She’s stern with her demand… You like that, too. 

You smirk. “Show me your portfolio.” 

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You see it when it’s finished. After the pictures are done. Take it or leave it.” 

“Okay, damn,” You give up, “So… what do I gotta do for prep?” 

“Not much right now. I have to set up my equipment and all that…” She glances around the living room, “we’ll talk about the rest later.” 

“‘Kay.” You twiddle your fingers together before the biggest light bulb shines over your head. 

“I also get 40% of the earnings— “

“Fuck no.” She says with a small grin. You pout. 

You knew something was wrong when Abby randomly invited you over to study… on a Saturday night. You don’t know how she’s a STEM major; You haven’t seen her with a book since you’ve met her! 

The second she opened her door, something was off. It’s been days since you’ve seen her and she barely reacted to the grilled cheese you brought. Her answers have been curt and she’s not laughing at any of your jokes. Your Cheetos are doing a great job at soothing your anxiety. You want to comfort your friend with whatever’s bothering her, but you’re not sure how. 

So, you talk. And talk. And talk about Ellie.

“I’m not gonna lie,” You crunch, comfortable on Abby’s beanbag. “I’m kinda excited! I’ve never done a photoshoot before.” 

Abby shrugs from her work desk, voice monotone, “I mean, just be mindful. It’s obviously not a game for her so you needa take it seriously.” 

Your brows furrow, “What do you mean?” 

“Your roommate slash crush— “

Your head shakes, “I don’t have a crush— “

“Slash crush,” Your friend emphasizes, “asked you to be a part of probably one of the biggest creations of her life. If that photo book or whatever is as important as you say, it’s not just a “photoshoot” for her.” 

… Nah, you’re still confused. 

Abby scoffs, “A photoshoot about romance and you’re her only model, making you breakfast, and whatever else she’s done! How much does she have to spell it out for you?” 

“I don’t understand why you’re yelling!”

“I’m not fucking yelling! I’m watching out for you before you do something you regret!” 

You sit up straighter, “And what does that mean!”

“What have you been saying this entire time? I don’t wanna live with someone I fucked!” She mocks, “It seems like y’all are pretty close to that.” 

You stare pensively, “We haven’t fucked and we’re not going to! You’re doing the fucking most!” 

“Yeah, whatever.” She continues to scribble. 

“Abby… what’s wrong?” You clumsily stand from the bean bag. “I’m so con— “

“You wanna know what’s wrong?” She snaps, pen slamming on the desk. “Every time we see each other, you talk about her! I’m sick of hearing about… whatever the fuck you have going on at home, quite frankly! We can’t even joke around because you’re so pressed about someone you don’t even like!” 

You’re going to cry; You can feel it. Abby’s never been this upset with you, “Why did you wait so long to tell me this? I would’ve stopped coming to you a long time ago!” 

“Because I cared and didn’t want you to feel by yourself while Maya’s away! That’s why! But now, it’s like…” 

A tired sigh from her and she gives up, hand waving dismissively, “Talking about this shit is pointless. I’m going to bed. Shut the door behind you.” Abby rises and brushes past you, switching her lamp off and climbing into her warm bed. You allow your tears to fall as you gather your belongings, gently shutting her door behind you and attacking your face with your sleeve. You hate crying in public. 

The elevator ride feels much longer than it should’ve been as you weep. The doors shutter open, and you can see the weather is not on your side. It’s pelting bullets outside; You knew you shouldn’t have walked. 

“You got a ride?” 

You look over at the security guard perched behind the front desk. Fuck all feds, but Stanley’s cool. You shake your head. 

“You can’t walk home in that. Driving is also dangerous but,” He shrugs, and you sigh. You pull your phone out of your pocket. 

“Hey, Siri… Call Chef Butch…” 

“CALLING CHEF BUTCH.” 

Stanley’s warm laughter eases your shoulders. 

DING!

You unlock your phone and smile at Ellie’s text, rising from your chair. 

“Alright, Stan. Pray I don’t turn into Frosty out there,” You throw over your shoulder. 

He laughs, opening the heavy door for you, “I will! Get home safely!” You throw your hood over your beanie, easing past him and nearly being blown away by the fucking wind. How did Ellie drive in this shit!

You somehow manage to follow the view of your car, pounding on the passenger window to get Ellie to unlock it. You miss your step on the curb and fall face first into the seat. You hear Ellie’s laughter. 

“You alright?” 

“Yup! Fucking peachy, thanks!” You stumble in and slam the door with the wind, out of breath, body melting from the heat. “You couldn’t have parked a little closer?” 

“… No.” 

You stare at her through the snow in your lashes, “Ellie, take us home, please. I’m annoyed and going through a fucking breakdown, like I can’t be outside right now. I’m gonna pass out!”

“… You wanna talk about it?” 

“No.” You spit. 

“Alright.” She puts the car in drive, but her foot is still pressed on the brake. 

“I just can’t believe this shit right now!” You ramble anyway. “You think you know a person, like, fuck! This is stupid!” You punch the glove compartment. 

“… What happ— “

“Like, fuck! Fuuuck! Like what the fuck!” 

You’re screaming your head off and Ellie’s just watching, face flat as ever. It makes you scream louder. But your wails pause when your eyes flicker downward. Veiny hands clenched around the steering wheel. Your screams suddenly sound like whimpers. When’s the last time you had sex?

Is it sad that the thought of Ellie choking you out is easing your meltdown? This is the worst day ever! 

“I’m gonna rip my fucking face off— “

“Why're you staring at my hands like that?”

“What the fuck, I’m not staring. Be quiet.” 

Your roommate grins like a fox, “Okay.” 

The car’s moving and so are your eyes, all over Ellie, wherever they can reach. You’re pissed and horny and you need a shot. 

“You ever get the urge to strangle the fuck outta someone?”

“Mhm.” 

You ponder, “How does it feel to smoke weed?” 

She shrugs, “It feels good.”

“How good? Scale of one to ten.” 

“… Thirteen.”

“Better than sex?” You ask quietly. Your brain is elsewhere, locked on the bulging blue veins in her hand, following the lines through her hoodie. 

She ponders, “… Yes.” 

“You’re biased, though. I can’t trust you.” 

“Stop staring at my hands like that.” Her low voice is like a kick in your back, spine slightly arching in your chair. You’re glad she’s looking at the road; She’s making you go into heat and she doesn’t need to see it. Maybe Abby was right about you being a fucking hypocrite. 

“Or what?” Your tone is icy, and she licks her lips. 

“I’ll pull over.” 

You shudder at her boldness, “Pull over.” 

Your car jerks to a stop and you jolt forward, eyes still glued onto Ellie’s mouth. One kiss… It isn’t sex. It’s just kissing; Who doesn’t love kissing? You’re alone and warm and it’s gorgeous outside. It would be just a kiss. Just one, just one. 

Ellie’s staring at you, eyes reminiscent of the storm outside. Flurrying and dark. Her tongue swipes over her lips again, and your gut swirls. “Stop staring at my hands.” You suck your bottom lip in your mouth when her breath hits it. She’s leaning forward and so are you. Just one kiss, that’s all you need. 

Your pussy’s talking and she’s loud… Literally meowing for her. 

“Is that a fucking cat?” Ellie whispers, nose brushing yours… She can hear that? How horny are you? 

“Dude, that’s a cat! There’s a cat right there!” Her gasps shock you, and you peer out the window, finding a small, dark spot in gusts of white snow. There is a cat! 

“Oh, my fucking god! Ellie, what the fuck—“ You’re pushing the door open and she grabs your arm. 

“Wait, you’re gonna fucking fall— “

“We can’t leave her, she’s gonna die out here!” You rush out in seconds and you’re slipping like a cartoon character on a banana. You’re kissing the air to lure the kitty over, but she just cries. She’s probably starving! 

“C’mere, baby, c’mon!” You hear Ellie muttering curses from behind you. After almost busting your face on icy concrete, you’re finally close enough to scoop up the shivering ball of fur, and you’re sobbing as you wrap your scarf around her tiny body. 

“Ellie,” you choke, “We ca—can’t leave h-her— “

“Okay, okay, stop crying, where is she?” You hold up the bundled fabric and Ellie gently takes her, shoving her in her hoodie before grabbing your wrist and guiding you to the car. Ellie hops in the driver's seat, the car filled with desperate meows and your hysterical sobs. 

Ellie cranks the heat and holds the wrapped furball, softly cooing at her. 

“Where’s your mama, hm?” 

Meow! 

“No mama?” 

Meow! Meow!

You’re wailing, “She’s a fucking or—orphan— “

“Can you be quiet.” Ellie snaps. 

“O—“you sniffle harshly, “Ok—okay— “

“Hold her, I gotta drive. We’re going to Petco.” Ellie’s zooming down the street, whipping and swerving. You’re almost positive she ran a red light. 

“I know you don’t like small animals, but c-can we keep her, please— “

Ellie’s lip curls, “It’s not that I don’t… not like them—” She rambles on, but you’re so focused on the baby in front of you. Poor thing looks so tired. What if she’s sick? Oh God, she would’ve froze to death if you didn’t stop—

You blabber to her between choked whimpers, “I love you so much, we’re gonna get you safe, don’t worry— “

“Oh, my fucking god,” Ellie sighs softly beside you. 

Pheromones will have to wait. You’re a mother now. 

After your emergency pet escapade, you and Ellie sneak the cat past the complex security and into your apartment. If anyone finds out — if Carol finds out — you’re fucked… and unhoused. 

Small meows are filling your ears. Your baby’s full, at least. Poor thing was horking down minced tuna in the car. Her teeth are so small and cute. She looks like she’s going to doze off soon. 

You watch as Ellie sets up her little area in the living room… Right next to her fucking photography set up when the fuck did she do that—

The corner of the living room is fully decked with maroon and ebony backdrops, Ellie’s sticker-littered camera resting proudly on its stand. There’s a… big ass umbrella-looking thing towering over the setup and a stool on the dark floor cover. There’s a small, white briefcase on it, tied down with a padlock. It’s either a gun or her portfolio. 

“Bring her over here.” 

Your gawking gets cut short as you cradle kitty over to Ellie, handing her over so she can lay her on the small, paw-shaped bed. She’s purring; Your heart’s melting. 

“I see you haven’t changed your mind.” 

Ellie’s tucking your baby in, “About?” She hums.

“The shoot.” You whisper. 

“Why would I?” She faces you and stands. You shrug nonchalantly, but your mind’s racing. You probably found someone worthy of doing it. 

Ellie inches closer, looking down at you. “Consider it roommate bonding… Featuring adopted cat child.” 

You giggle. She's staring at your smile, all over your face. Into your eyes. Yours flicker down to her mouth. Either you're hallucinating, or she’s leaning closer. One kiss won’t hurt. 

“Um…” She whispers, gaze dropping to the floor. “Earlier I was gonna… say something.” 

“What is it?” 

She shrugs, “… I forgot.” 

“Okay.” You’re whispering now. She’s staring at your mouth. Her eyes are hypnotizing; There's a universe in them. A forest with trees that grow for eternities, miles and miles of green meadows. 

“You’re staring.” She mutters. 

“So are you.” 

Ellie wants to say something. You can see it. But she doesn’t, and neither do you. “Gotta get up early… I’ll see you tomorrow?” Her voice cracks. 

You’re cheesing and your hearts in your throat. “Yes. See you tomorrow.” 

One last toothy grin, she’s gone into her room, door shutting softly for the first time. You exhale like you’ve been holding your breath, already missing her presence. 

You’re giddy when you finally climb into bed. You can’t help but think that Ellie is, too. 

longest taglist ive ever had i am very sorry if i forgot somebody pls dont hate me i am neurodivergent : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane @muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf @fictionalgap @liabadoobee @whooknooows @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @qtgaslighter @p4ison1vy @eviestevie-14 @weaselot @elliewbbg @elsmissingfingers @lmaoo-spiderman @lyssaspengler @elliewilliamsmunch @gummydummykj @kiwikeysblog @juniorsfav @louleele @alittlextrahoney @tohoko @333-starhotline @girlkissersco @saplingkoi @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @diddiqueen @alexisvs-world @mostlyhornyandsad @lolaaa699999 @elsblunt @niyahlovesu

[gi4hao]

“you’re getting sleepy, aren’t you?”

“i’m fine…” minghao tells you in a slurred voice, although he’s had his eyes closed for a good five minutes now. but he just can’t help it: sat between your legs as you’re meticulously drying his hair, he’s feeling too comfortable to stay awake.

“i’m almost done” you tell him as you keep guiding the dryer in circular motions, your fingertips lightly grazing his scalp.

the night fell a few hours ago, its tranquility only disrupted by the occasional cars passing by your street. the bedside lamp on your right acts as your only source of light, splashing orange shades on the walls.

you’ve always felt at home with minghao. the calming patterns of his voice, his arms that know exactly how and when to hold you, his genuine laughter at your stupidest jokes.

and you’ve been spending so much time at his place lately, you could even say you feel at home in his home, sometimes staying by yourself for a full day.

obviously he’s not asking for anything in return, but you do it anyways. cooking, cleaning, buying groceries… everything he tells you not to bother with.

“i’m done”, you state as you unplug the drier and roll its wire on itself.

minghao mutters a sleepy ‘thank you’, and you feel him leaving a kiss on the side of your knee before climbing into bed.

it takes you less than a minute to put the drier back in the bathroom’s cabinet, but it was enough time for your boyfriend to have tucked himself under the covers, his eyes closed in a peaceful expression.

you fight back the urge to tease him, just in case he’s actually sleeping already, and walk around the bed to turn off the light on his nightstand.

“move in with me”

minghao’s voice is soft as ever, nothing more than a whisper. his lips are spread in a barely noticeable smile as he watches you freeze for a second.

“officially? i mean, full-time?” you ask, an obvious happiness blooming in your voice.

“full time and maybe forever” he tells you while lifting the covers as an invitation.

you suddenly forget about turning the light off, only thinking about bending down to pepper his face in kisses, enough for him to understand that you couldn’t be happier about that offer.

with each kiss, minghao’s smile grows bigger and bigger, until he wraps his arms around you to drag you to bed himself. your bed.

“i love you” you whisper, a hand caressing his cheek.

“i love you too” he replies, snaking one arm out of the covers to finally turn the lights off.

and as you drift off to sleep, you both relish the warm feeling of knowing that this is what all your nights are going to look like from now on. peaceful, tender, and most importantly, at home.

[littlerequiem]

— a lesson in dancing ˚⁎⁺ levi ackerman x gn!reader

Levi doesn't think you should be with an old man like him. You show him otherwise. Or: in a post-war life, Levi learns to dance again.

content — Post-war, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Some internalized ableism from Levi but Reader helps him get through it, Reader is younger than Levi, Slow dancing, Basically a whole lot of comforting Levi in this one (wc: 2.3k). For reference - I headcanon that Levi uses a wheelchair most of the time, but that at home, he'll opt for a cane.

Crossposted on AO3.

“You should find someone younger to be with.”

At first, you aren’t sure if you heard Levi correctly. It’s still early; the sunrise barely reaches the town's tiled roofs. Sparrows nibble around you, scavenging for breakfast. Everything is at a complete standstill.

Then you glance up from this morning’s newspaper. Levi is staring at the youth gathered around the city square.  

“What did you say?” you ask.

Levi’s attention settles onto you, a half-lidded stare that’s no less charged than in his prime as the Captain.

“You’re still young," he mutters. "You’re still whole."

Well, if he didn't have your attention before, he certainly has it now.

You place your reading onto the café table, right next to the cup of coffee the waiter just brought. Your fingers linger on the edges of the newspaper, bending the corners with your thumb.

“Levi, I don’t want to be with someone else," you say, slow like you were carefully weighing each syllable with care. "I want to be with you.”

"You say that, but I can’t give you that.”

You frown, following his changing line of sight, back to the youth. In the distance, couples dance, following music coming from an accordion. They step and twirl, a resounding cheer (“ha!”) echoing with every count of twelve.

It brings you straight back to Paradis, to life within the Walls, to evenings spent in dingy taverns. Hange and Miche used to love dancing; they loved to drag you along. You wonder if Levi is thinking about those nights too.

"Are you talking about us dancing?”

The knot in Levi's throat bobs. He swallows it down with an almost bitter expression. “That, and more. Just look at me.”

“I’m looking, Levi.”

If only he knew—you’ve been looking all along.

All these years of fighting side by side, of fighting against titans and humans, of trying to bring peace to the world.

Just to arrive at a time and place where you could look at him.

And the sight grounds you.

Levi's eyes—one milky white and shuttered, the other a deep gray that reminds you of muted skies. His hair, silky black, embellished from the passage of time with strands of silver (like starlight, you think). A pearl-colored scar that twists below his lash line, running across the left side of his face, currently glowing from the dewy morning sun.

Everything about Levi has always been beautiful.

Despite that, you watch Levi retreats in his shell. His expression hardens and his knuckles tighten. It's the same old reaction you've grown accustomed to seeing. Levi did it Then, in Paradis, and he's doing it Now, in this new life.

But you? You rip through it, cut the distance apart. The feet of your chair rattles against the cobblestone of the street as you draw near. By the time you're settled at his side, you’re close enough to count the freckles splattered on the tip of nose.

“Levi, listen to me. You’re enough just the way you are. We can go through life as we please. Isn’t that enough?”

Levi remains silent, setting his posture like iron.

You tug at the hems of his shirt, twirling the fabric around your index. “Hey, c'mon now. Have I ever told you how handsome you are in the early morning?”

“Tch, don’t patronize me. You must want more than to be stuck with an old man like me.”

“What if I like my old man?” 

“You should be with someone younger.“

“Who says?”

“I’m saying.”

Levi’s deadpan expression doesn’t falter under your even gaze, but his lower lip opens up slightly, as if he were trying to even out his breathing. A blue vein tenses down his neck. You have the urge to smooth it with the back of your hands.

But you focus on his words instead.

“Levi, where’s all of this coming from?” 

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, of course, it matters. If it's making you have these thoughts, it matters.”

Levi's eyes narrow. You sigh. 

“Fine, you stubborn man. You wanna know what I see?” you say under your breath.

There’s something vulnerable tied to Levi’s gaze. You hold onto it, sliding your fingers through his hair to brush care into his scalp. Your thumbs linger over the crow’s feet permeating the corner of his eyes. A constellation of wrinkles and spots dust Levi's skin, an aftermath of time and sun exposure. You run a delicate digit over all of it, ending along his scarred lash line.

Levi swallows loudly.

“When I look at you, Levi, I see the pain of someone who was asked to grow up much too fast. I see the face of a man who had to shoulder the weight of survival all by himself. I see the life of a soldier who has fought for peace so that all of them,” your head bobs in the youth’s direction, “now get to enjoy a quiet Saturday morning where they can dance without a care in the world.”

Levi glances over your shoulders, fixing a point like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

You bring your hands along the sides of his jaw, directing his attention back to you. “Levi, you’re everything I want. We fought for a decade to be here. Why can’t you recognize that?”

He attempts to shake his head. “You deserve more.”

“That's for me to decide."

"I disagree."

"You always trusted my judgment as a soldier, so please extend me that same courtesy in this life here. Trust me to know what I want.”

“S’not the same.”

“It is. I dedicated my heart to the Scouts back then, didn’t I? And now I’m dedicating it to you.”

Levi’s ears turn pink, his lips tightening into a pout that cannot be described as anything else but coy. “Tch, don't say shit like this in public.” He attempts to lean away from your touch, but you teasingly play with strands of his hair, coxing him to utter stillness.

You lift a brow.

Levi stays quiet. Your knees bump with his, and you remain close while you watch him think your words over. Somehow, though, you can tell he’s grateful to have you here with him. You’re the one still by his side after all these years of death and pain and misery.

The one who stayed.

And Levi conveys his gratitude by reaching to you at last, slow like he were afraid to be stung. He loops his fingers around your own, his thumb gliding against the pulse point on your wrist. Once he has his hold on you, he doesn't let go, slowly stroking your skin with his thumbs.

You exhale in solace.

“So, what's the verdict?" you murmur. "Should I continue praising you?” 

He releases your hands. “Please don’t.” 

You chuckle, moving to grab the newspaper once more. Today’s headline talks of peace negotiations, negotiations that are to be handled by Commander Armin Arlert.

“Listen, I meant what I said, Captain," you tell Levi as you smooth over the article, ready to pour your attention onto it. "Like it or not, you’re stuck with me now.” 

Levi clears his throat as he takes a sip of tea. “Careful, soldier, that almost sounded like a marriage proposal.”

This time, it’s your turn to get flustered. You hide behind your wall of reading and when you peer over the newspaper, you swear there’s a ghost of a smirk tugging at Levi’s lips.

The evening is setting. Outside, waves crash against the cliffs while seagulls croak in swarms. You don’t pay attention to the noise; you’re inside the little cottage you and Levi share, too busy tweaking the machine Onkyankopon gifted you. It's a vinyl player—a machine which lets you play music records. Admittedly, you aren’t well-versed with these modern inventions, but this one you’re excited to use.

The record you’ve placed into the vinyl player comes from Onkyankopon’s home town. It promises a soothing journey filled with emotional highs—just what you need. With a grin plastered on your face, you press the play button. The tonearm hits the record and a lovely crack sounds across the living room. You lower the volume, and turn around.

“Levi, you coming?”

You hear a grunt in response, echoing across the narrow corridor of the house. “There’s no fire under my ass, is there?”

“Just a very excited me is all.”

Several moments later, Levi walks in, cane in hand. He’s fresh out of the shower. His hair is still wet, bangs clinging to the sides of his forehead, and his cheeks still have that rosy hue that comes from him washing it thoroughly. He’s wearing a freshly ironed shirt, and what Marleyans call jeans (which, incidentally, make his ass look great). 

Your stomach flutters.

Levi raises a brow. “What did you want to show me?”

“Oh.” You blink, remembering your plan. “Right. Please, c'mon here.”

He does, walking towards you, something cautiously guarded on his face.

You roll your eyes and shoot him a playful smile. “It’s not a trap, I promise.” Your fingers move to the collar of his gray shirt, feeling the rough fabric of cotton between your fingertips. The color matches his gaze, it brings out the smoothness of his pale skin.

He really is pretty.

You tell him as such.

He scoffs, a lovely pink hue dusting the tips of his ears. “Don’t say shit like that.”

You shrug. “We’re not in public anymore, are we?”

“Spare me.”

“But I like to compliment you."

"That's not my problem."

"Fine, old man. Then I suppose I should show you.”

His eyes narrow, not unkindly or in an annoyed manner, but with the regard of someone who dislikes surprises, who knows you’re up to something.

You detach yourself from him for a moment, striding over to reach for the volume button and turning it up. As soon as the slow violin and piano tug through the air, you turn towards him with a grin.

“Let’s dance,” you announce.

To Levi’s credit, he doesn’t appear all that surprised by this turn of events. Well, he’s known you over a decade, so you suppose he’s learned a thing or two about you.

You take his wooden cane out of his hands, carefully placing it against the wall. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other from across the small room, admiring one and another. Moonlight trickles into the room, gracing Levi with its touch. His gray stare is aglow, his hair like silver. Like starlight, indeed.

Taking a slow step in his direction, you slide into his arms, and he welcomes you like you were made to belong there all along. You take his invitation with a smile, offering him support for his leg while you bask in the comfort of his embrace. Levi places his left hand over your shoulder, the other finding a home along your ribs, fingers slotting along every bone. Safety. His touch sparks warmth across your body, and you bring your hands to the back of his neck, delicately smoothing his undercut.

“The music is starting,” you murmur into the shell of his ear. Tingles spread through your veins.

“Yeah, it is.”

The music isn’t anything like the one you heard on the square today. This track is slow and intimate, and so, your dancing adapts to it. At first, you take the lead, only taking occasional small steps back, hips swaying with the soft melody. Levi follow closely, so close that you listen to his heartbeat quicken beneath your touch.

Half a minute later, Levi surprises you by carefully taking one of your hands between his own, dragging his thumb over your knuckles. He guides you back into a slow spin, and you feel the air expand in your lungs as you take several steps away from him, watching your two shadows ripple over the silver spotlight. When he tugs you back and your vision spins, you think how perfectly your bodies align together.

“Levi, why are you so good at this?” you chastise playfully.

“Erwin used to make me attend these fancy balls in the Interior,” he says in your ear, the tenor of his voice rumbling against your skin. “I learned there.” 

“Huh, that’s true. I remember the tuxedos you and Erwin wore now that you mention it." You chuckle. "You both looked devilishly handsome.”

“We looked like two pretentious snobs, you mean.”

"You say that, but I think Erwin took you along for a reason. We always did get the funding for every expedition.”

“Yeah.” There’s a note of fondness for Erwin and past memories, things you aren't exactly privy to, but that you're glad he gets to cherish all the same. 

You come to rest a cheek close to his neck, submerging yourself with the warmth of his skin. “I guess this little dance doesn’t measure up to the lavish balls you’ve attended, right?”

His hand tightens around your own. “No, this is better.”

You smile at his words.

It isn’t until a moment later that you realize the music has stopped, that you’re both still slow dancing to silence. Outside, the sound of waves remains.

Slowly, you untangle yourself from Levi, looking at him like he were the lighthouse guiding you back to shore. Levi’s attention is already fixed on you, his face filled with quiet fondness. There's starlight in his gaze.

“You see," you say. "We can dance, you and I.”

Levi raises a hand towards you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “If we can teach your clumsy ass some rhythm, sure.”

“Hey, don’t be mean.”

Levi snorts, and before you can say anything else, he surprises you by leaning over to press a kiss over your forehead. 

And under the moonlight, you watch him at peace, and all feels right.

— Masterlist / Join my taglist / Heart divider by saradika-graphics - the rest is by me.

Tag list: @l3visthighs, @bejewelledd, @nube55, @loyal2rin, @leviisgf, @thephantomtheory, @levilxvr, @halloweenmedic, @notgoodforlife, @sixpennydame, @youre-ackermine, @starrylevi

[rklve]

RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE

summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.

➣ pairing: jk x f!reader

➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut (eventually).

➣ 3.4k words

warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a confused mess. mutual pining. cursing. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. tae is bitter asf but he's right on this one. jk is the best boy I WANT HIM!!!!!!!!!!

song inspo: rainy days — V

wish I knew how to find the way right back to you, on rainy days like

part one | part two | drabble one

“I can't take it anymore,” Jungkook says as he stumbles for the seventh time on his feet walking around the living room “I’m losing my mind, Bamie.”

The dog looks at his owner with his head pointed sideways as if he understands what he’s been sorrowing about for the past 10 minutes. The rain pours angrily outside the apartment, Jungkook sighs as he realizes talking to his big ass puppy won’t solve any of his problems.

“She’s like, 5 min away from us, Bam! I should text her, right?”

He looks over his phone again, your instagram story is open and a picture of a window full of raindrops is seen — he knows where you’re at, you’ve both been to that coffee shop over a hundred times for the past years now. Can’t remember the last time he’s been to that place ‘cause he couldn’t stand the thought of being there without you. Now he’s wondering, wondering, wondering. Wonders if you’re back for real this time. If you are alone. If you are thinking about him too. Wonders what would happen if he just replied your story right now.

@jeonjk97: heard it’s the best caramel macchiato in town 👍

No— that’s too lame. Quickly erases the message.

@jeonjk97: want a ride home? it’s pretty bad outside. 

Throws his phone on the sofa as he realizes he doesn’t know if you would accept his offer, doesn’t know if you’re sharing an apartment with Lola again either. Realizes he doesn’t know anything that’s been going on with you for a while now. More than what you let your 897 followers on Insta know too, at least. Blames himself for it, but knows it was for the best. Misses you like a fucker anyway.

“I should just call her.”

He picks up his phone, then also realizes he deleted your number months ago so he wouldn’t call you whenever his drunk ass thought it was the right thing to do. 

“For fucks sake, grow some balls, Jungkook” he whines angrily at the air purifier as if it is the source of his problems. “Okay, Taehyung will know what do.”

He calls his best friend quickly, and prays Taehyung picks up before he grabs his car keys and drives himself to the colorful little cafe at the end of the street. Remembers how much you loved that place and the cookies they served. One caramel macchiato with extra topping and two medium chocolate cookies. You always ordered the same thing. Every damn time. Said it was in you, to never let go of the things you loved. You let go of him anyway.

“Jungkook-ah! Why are you calling? I told you I can't go out—“ 

“She’s back in town.” He cuts Taehyung abruptly and suddenly the other line is mute as well. Probably doesn’t believe it’s happening just as Jungkook didn’t believe himself minutes ago. 

“Man, are you sure? Like, back for real?” he says, and Jungkook swears he can hear the disbelief in his tone from the other side. Yeah, he knows Taehyung is full of his late night calls to talk about you. Knows he is the one that’s been listening to it for months now —besides from his dobermann, of course— he’s the one who gets it, ‘cause he’s the only one who feels bitterly betrayed too. You were one of his best friends and yet, he didn’t knew your plans to move out from Busan as well. 

“Aish, I’m not sure hyung. But she posted a picture a little while ago at the cafe down the street.” he blurted out, “Can’t even think straight now, man. You think she’s back for the holidays?” 

Taehyung wondered for a little while. It was still August, Chuseok was weeks later. He didn’t say it out loud, but it wasn’t like you to drop work for so long, even if it was to visit your hometown. Nevertheless, he didn’t want Jungkook to get his hopes up. He knows how he is. Doesn’t want to see his friend’s heart breaking all over again.

“Mmm. Maybe, don’t know.” he sighed out loud “I thought we agreed to unfollow her after the second month.”

He hears Jungkook’s sad chuckle on the other side of the line, “Yeah, we did.” 

Taehyung knows Jungkook wouldn’t bring himself to do it tho, and now he just confirms it. Being a little bit more resentful than Jungkook gave him the motivation to do so, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been missin’ your ugly face. 

“Ok, so I need you to refresh my mind now. Tell me something so I won’t step outside that door right this second and make a fool of myself.” Jungkook continues to talk as if he’s been charged on 220W. And maybe he was. His heart has never beaten so fast for the past twelve months. His hair is all over the place from the countless times he grabbed it since he saw your photo. The tip of his fingers are tingling. Yeah, maybe he’s been electrocuted or something.

“Go.”

“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief. Doesn’t think he hears straight, ‘cause Taehyung would be the last one to say such a thing. 

“I said go, Jungkook.” he sighs for what it seems to be the tenth time on the phone call. “I know you need this. You haven’t been yourself for so long now. You two have to talk properly at some point.”

“Ay, how frustratin really—” he tsks.

“For real, man. Go. Now.” he firmly says “What’s the worst she can do, leave?” Jungkook senses the bitter words coming from Taehyung’s mouth. He knows he’s not mad at you, just hurt. Knows Taehyung would forgive you in a heartbeat if you said how sorry you were for everything that went thru. Wonders if he would forgive you that easily too. But he knows his friend is right. He needs closure. Needs this.

“Yeah. Right.” he bites his lips and looks around. Sees Bam looking at him, as if he’s expecting an action from him too. “I’ll talk to you later, bro. Thanks.”

He turns off the phone and grabs his car keys tightly. Yeah, he’s doing it. Won’t think too much, it’s better this way. He will get in the car, drive for 5 minutes. Enter the coffee shop. Order. Pretend he doesn’t know you’re there. Eventually look over the spot he knows you’re at, the same table over the corner where you two always used to sit together, by the large window. Grab the coffee and go over casually, ask how you’ve been. Offer you a ride home —to your parents, probably, since you moved out from your apartment on the neighborhood for a while now. Say it’s because of the rain, he knows you hate to ask for Ubers on the rain. Didn’t trust just anyone driving on bad weather. Such a smart girl. He misses the shit out of you. 

“Damn, ok. Pack it up, man.” 

He calls Bam to his house and watches as the dog quickly follow his lead, as if he knows Jungkook is too anxious to play around right now. “Dad will be back soon, okay? Behave.”

And so he checks out his hair one last time on the mirror at his bathroom and goes before he changes his mind.

The drive is pretty quick. It’s actually a route he does walking, but it’s still pouring rain so he’s carrying on. On a rainy day. To a coffee shop. To get a coffee he could have made at the comfort of his home with his own little coffee machine. But it’s okay, he will just play pretend for this time.

He stops the car and just realizes he forgot his umbrella. “Are you fucking serious, Jungkook?” 

Great. Brilliant. He feels so fucking dumb right now. 

Thankfully, due to the cold season he was wearing his black sweatshirt and sweatpants so the rain wouldn’t do so much damage. He quickly got off the car and ran inside the cafe. 

Surprisingly, it was full for a rainy night. Perhaps everyone had the usual thought; too lazy to make their own foods, they step out to grab something warm on the best coffee in the neighborhood. 

Jungkook plays the script on his head over and over again as he whipes his hair side to side like a fluffy dog to get rid of the water that soaked it a little bit. 

He looks ahead to the counter and his mind goes blank as he sees you over there now. At the little chair on the middle of the cafe. You seem lonely, messing with your hair a little bit, making a braid with a single tiny lock. It’s an old habit to make time pass, and Jungkook hates he remembers every little detail about you. His heart now has stopped, dropped to his knees. He really misses you. 

“Bee!” the waiter calls, and Jungkook recognizes the nickname. Knows it’s you, ‘cause he’s the one that gave it to you years ago. Used to call you bee just to make fun of you, ‘cause you’re such a sweet tooth. Never met someone that loves sugar more than you do, so he started to call you that since you two became friends.

He watches at the end of the waiting line as you get up, straight your hand and pick up two cookies in a little pink plate. Chocolate chips cookies. Your favorite. His favorite as well.

You start to eat slowly so he averts his eyes. Doesn’t want to be catch staring and look like a fucking weirdo. It’s not like he drove here to see you. Talk to you. Not at all, the coffee here is great. 

Finally the line walks and it’s his turn. “One black coffee, please. No sugar.” He says softly and suddenly feels his neck start to tingle. Knows you just realized he’s here, and you’re staring at him. Pretends he doesn’t tho, so continues to talk to the waitress as she asks who she would call when it’s ready “JK.” he says, then turns around to look for somewhere to sit and wait for the order. Looks over the table that you originally were, the one you posted a photo of. Then realizes now there’s a couple there, laughing together and taking pics of each other. He knows you. Knows you most likely offered the clingy couple the table, cause the house is full, and you wouldn’t take the table just for yourself. Even if it meant you would end up eating by the counter on the little puffed chair, you loved to drool over the pastries anyways.

He slowly looks the other way. Knows you’re on this direction so he has to be careful. You’re looking down. Seem sad all of the sudden and he just wants to hug you. For fucks sake. This is harder than he thought. 

He sighs again as he realizes the only spots available are the 2 chairs on your right. He chooses the one that’s a little bit far just to be safe.

As he walks down, his chest tightens a little bit more. Now he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It was a bad idea. Doesn’t even remember what the plan was at the first place. 

He can smell your perfume as he walks past you and it’s like someone punches his stomach. Your sweet smell fills his nostrils and he just wants to be closer. Shove his nose on your hair like he used to. Then go down your neck and feel your skin respond with little goosebumps as he moves along it softly. Damn it. Jungkook wants to curse the life out of you but he can’t even bring himself to be mad right now. Only knows he misses you. Your touch. Your kiss. You.

Finally he sits and pretends as if he didn’t notice you there, continually looking over his phone as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world trying to figure out what to do next.

“JK!” The waitress calls him and he’s put out of his own world, looking up right away. You seem to be startled too as you look directly at him. You two look at each other for what seems to be minutes in a trance. You give him a tiny smile. He gives one back.

“JK!” he hears the call again and pulls himself out of the trance, going to grab the coffee from the waitress who’s on your left side. He pays for it and looks at you again. You’re still looking at him. Kinda unsure on how to act, he figures. It’s okay, cause he doesn’t know how to either. 

As he sits, now on the chair closer to your right, he looks straight ahead and takes a gulp of the coffee. “Fuck!” he curses and pulls the coffee cup away as he burns his tongue with the damn thing.

You laugh thru your nose and his ears rapidly catch the sweet sound he used to hear all the time. Looks sideways to you, “Funny, huh?” he feels the air a little bit less heavy now, and he’s relieved.

“You just never change, Koo.” you say, still with that damn smile on your face he adores so much. He can’t take his eyes off of you. Realizes he never got over you, not even for a second. Probably never will.

“Don’t call me that.” those damned butterflies on his guts as he digests what you’ve said. You know it’s his favorite nickname. Knows only you call him by it. Knows he melts alway with this shit everytime.

You’re staring at him like that. So pretty. Soft brown sparkly eyes he missed so much. Now they seem to start hardening. “I’m sorry.” You say with a broken voice, and he feels the air shift all over again in a matter of seconds. Doesn’t know if you’re apologizing for the sweet nickname. For leaving him. For not calling. For not coming back. For everything. 

“How’s everything?” He tries to ease the air back again. “It’s been a minute.”

He sees the corner of your lips tremble a little bit and you gulp. His chest pangs. Wonders if he did the right thing by pretending you never existed for the past months now. Just wants to make up for all the time both of you lost.

“Yup, it has.” You reply after a while. “I’m doing okay. What about you?” 

You look up at him like everything is okay. If he didn’t know you, he would believe you were. But he knows better. You can’t hide anything from him, really. At least that’s what he thought. Knows he could be wrong, just like he was a year ago too.

“Cool. I’m cool.” he licks his dry lips and starts to think about his next move. Mind starts to blow up, a trillion thoughts at the same time and he’s back at it again. Can’t put his neurons to work properly. You’re actually right here in front of him, how is he supposed to?

Seems like you’re struggling yourself too. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to come up with an excuse to leave right now, or trying to find a subject in common as well.

 You stare at your now half eaten cookie like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. The other one is already on the bag to go. You probably were planning on taking home to eat when the late night sweet crave hits you, like he remembers. Will put it on the microwave so it gets warm again and take a cup of milk with you, like you used to. Turn on netflix and watch one of those lame cooking programs, ‘cause you loved to waste your time watching people losing their heads to make giant chocolate sculptures. He secretly loved watching it with you. It’s the reason he watched every episode back and forth while you were away too.  

“Is Bamie okay?” you murmur, now staring at your coffee cup with a little smile, thinking about the little puppy. Remembers how energetic and loving he was. Just like Jungkook. “You haven’t posted him in a while now.”

His tongue feels bittersweet again. He’s somehow happy knowing that you’ve been catching up with his life throught social media, even tho he disappears once in a while. At the same time, he’s sad. You could have been there for Bam. Should have, since you are the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Said he needed a little friend to match up with his chaotic energy. He ended up convinced and adopted the little guy. You always tended to get the best of him. Promised you’d help him to take good care of the baby, but only spent three months with Bam. Still, it’s like the puppy knows something is missing. Every night he looks over the door at any noise, like he’s expecting you to come throught it. Just like Jungkook used to do for the first months back then. 

“He’s great, actually. Bigger than I expected him to be. Eats like a fucking bear.” he giggles a little remembering his big boy. “He’s loud too. Don’t know how the neighbors still haven’t ganged up against me to kick us out of the apartment.”

You giggle alongside him imagining the chaos those two must have been doing together. “I figured. You always have spoiled him too much. Told ya he would get bad habits.”

“Hey! You spoiled him too!” he throws it right back. Remembers how you used to let Bam sleep with the two of you on bed. It took him months to break that habit from the puppy’s routine.

You look up at him and smiles. Bright now. You know he’s right. You’ve treated that puppy like it was your own son. Kinda misses the three of you together like a big happy family.

Suddenly a loud thunder is heard and both of you look out the foggy window at the same time. The sky is even darker now, angrily pouring rain like it’s the end of the earth. The coffee shop is emptier. Everyone outside your bubble must’ve realized that it was no longer safe to be out in the streets. But here you two are. Letting time pass by, enjoying each others presence even if it’s kinda weird. Kinda sad after all these months apart.

Jungkook knows it’s time to act. Step up and do what he was planning since he left home. Can’t bring himself to. Is too scared you will say no. Too scared you will let him down again. 

“I think I should get going.” you say softly wrapping up what is left of the cookie and putting it on your bag over the counter. “The weather is getting worst.”

“Want a ride home?” Jungkook quickly says before he looses the sudden courage. Sees you're taken aback so he continues, “I know you won’t be able to catch an uber or taxi right now.”

You still wonder a little bit. Jungkook’s anxiety is bubbling up again as he waits your answer. Why can’t you accept a simple offer? You can’t stand the thought of being around him? Do you hate him? Perhaps you don’t want him in your life ever again. You want to stay like this. Just be somebody that he used to know.

And that’s what scares him the most.

“I brought an umbrella” you finally say. Jungkook frowns. Knows you have no umbrella with you, he would’ve seen it by now.

He puffs. Knows it’s bullshit, but won’t call it. “Right. Suit yourself.” Then he gets up, forgets his full coffee by the counter, now cold. He feels fucking cold too. Already regrets coming to this stupid cafe, in this stupid weather, for no stupid reason. He takes his sweatshirt off and puts it over his head so the rain won’t get to him this time. Opens the door.

“Jungkook! Wait!” you suddenly say. “I actually didn’t.” you say pouty, coming up to him.

He doesn’t say anything. Just takes his sweatshirt, puts it over your head instead. He was wearing his taegeuk warriors jersey underneath it, will definitely get soacked but can’t bring himself to care at all. Just cares about you. Holds the glass door for you just like old times. You look up at him with your big doll eyes and he can’t do anything but look back. It’s like you want to talk through them. He wonders what’s going through your pretty little head right now. Probably overthinking too much, just like he does. 

“C’mon," he softly says "Let’s get you home.”

yayyy there it goes! my first ff ever i'm so happy <3 this was supposed to be an oneshot but i got carried away and wrote more than i expected so i had to cut it off hehe

also, please be aware that english is not my native language so i’m sorry if there’s any typos 🥹

i'll upload part 2 soon! if you want to be tagged pls comment under the post :) thanks for reading xx

[jjkeverlast]

accidental roommates | jjk (m)

✦ pairing dilf!jk x fem!reader

✦ genre/au's dilf!au, roommate!au, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, crack & teeny tiny sentimental angst

✦ summary moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace.

yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate.

✦ word count 14.7k 🌚

✦ warnings second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook

✦ sexual warnings fingering | oral (f. receiving) | semi-hand job? | grinding | riding | biting (like once) | teasing | protected sex!

✦ author's note oh my god.... can you believe i actually finished this shit? lmao no me neither. i have to thank my amazing co-writer's for this collab @kooktrash & @jeonjcngkook for being extremely helpful when i've been stuck with some scenes! along with my favorite person and hyung @gimmethatagustd who was there whenever i needed to plan some scenes and for reading out my entire outline. also, big thanks to my beta @pjiminbloomx who took her time in listening me rant about this for over a month. i love you jyad. <3333 and just overall every single one of you who have encouraged me about this. i can't believe it got this long BUT hey! it didn't get above 15k which was my maximum for this fic. enjoy this super cracky and long stupid fic with these two idiots. <3

this fic is a part of illicit desires collab! go read the other stories if you're hungry for more dilf jungkook ;)

For the first time since a week ago, you’re finally able to breathe for once. The sigh you let out is comforting and freeing. The awful ruckus of moving has caused you to roam on the streets with a lack of sleep, eye bags that can be caught from miles away and a groggy voice not daring to disappear from your vocals. A mess really. You know it, your ex-roommate Ash knows it too and even though she and her partner are at fault here, it was bound to happen. 

You see, Ash had met Lucca through a mutual friend, the mutual friend being you and you were surprised at how well they complimented each other. The night they met was filled with nervous glances and flushed red cheeks due to the excitement. They both deserved each other. So, when they finally announced their relationship with you, you were more than thrilled. Although, after a year of them dating they had come to the conclusion of moving in together, which was a big step for their relationship and a step back for you, due to you ending back to square one and having to find an apartment yourself.  

The image of Ash’s expression when she kindly asked you to move within the next month was imprinted in your mind. She didn’t want to kick you out this way, but it was an important and big step into her relationship with Lucca, and the decision needed to be made regardless. You didn’t really have a say in this. Firstly, the apartment was Ash’s and in the end, it is her decision on whom she wants to share it with. 

It took you a week. A whole week to find the perfect place for you. The pictures sold the place nicely, the living room looking spacious and decorated firmly with stable furniture and you being desperate to find anything you called the owner. The conversation went great. He was very quick on letting you get the apartment, sending you a confirmation email the day after you had agreed to the deposit. You were doing it, and it felt great. 

Although, your lack of sleep had been caused by the last-minute packing, having to clear out your room as quickly as possible. It was mostly because of Lucca themselves, having to move out of their sister’s loft, so the timing was indeed tight. But hey, everything turned out well even though you look like a Yeti who hasn’t been able to find a place to rest. It’s fine really, now you’ll be able to at least lie down before unpacking everything. 

With a trembling hand, you manage to push the code in, the door opens and you’re just about to step in when you look up and find a shirtless man in your apartment. You don’t say anything, the both of you staring each other down for a quick second before you manage to close the door, convincing yourself you’re hallucinating. 

It’s a thing, Ash told you countless times whenever you managed to withhold an all-nighter in your shared place. First, there’s being overtired where every ounce of energy left bounces like a little child on a trampoline, then there’s the lack of sleep eating you alive although your eyes fail you to shut, being used to staying open, which creates the last step: hallucinations. 

Maybe it’s the lack of sex which made you paint a beautifully sculpted man with tattoos only in a towel in front of you. You’re praising your brain for creating such a lively picture that causes you to grin and shake your head before you decide to re-enter. 

He’s there again. Your horny hallucination. 

The hallucination takes a turn when he screams into your face. ‘’What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!’’ It’s then that you snap yourself back to reality, realizing this indeed is a real person and you’ve managed to scare the shit out of them. The only thing you find yourself doing is screaming back, which turns into violent screaming in unison and by now half of the neighborhood is probably writing a complaint to this very apartment. 

‘’What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!’’ You find the courage to finally scream back and the man in front of your eyes squints in discomfort, shaking his head as he swallows your words. 

‘’Y-your apartment?’’ 

You fold your arms, scoffing as your head turns towards the open kitchen. ‘’Yes. Mine.’’ 

He begins to laugh, his abs tensing along with the rhythm and you hate yourself for growing hot over his upper body. 

‘’You’re funny.’’ He points at you and to prove yourself to him, you look for the confirmation email that proves you have the right to own this place. 

‘’Here.’’ He steps closer, the scent of his shampoo infiltrating your nostrils and you notice a form of sweet yet musky scent. While you’re too busy trying to ignore the scent, the man in front of you has his full attention on your screen. He smacks his lips, his composure straightening along. ‘’There has to be some sort of mistake.’’ 

You hum in agreement. How wrong could this possibly go? The only solution that comes to mind like a wave, is to call the owner. You hold a finger up, pausing for whatever word is about to come out from the stranger in front of you while it starts to dial. It quickly gets interrupted, by a voice telling you the number doesn’t exist. You refuse to believe it, so you continue to call three to four times while the man crosses his arms, sighing out loud. It’s at that moment you notice the detailed and colored tattoos covering his arm in a sleeve. 

“He’s… he’s not picking up.” The defeat drags itself at your feet. The proof you once had to own this apartment is gone, except the confirmation email but then again there must’ve been some mistake — a big one to say the least. 

“Do you honestly believe that?” His tone indicates he’s irritated and the water droplets on his skin have almost dried out — the fact that you notice scares you more than the situation you’re currently met with. 

“I mean, clearly, you’ve been scammed.” The words swallow you whole, your composure losing against you and your head drops with your heart. Of course, it was too good to be true, because again since when have you ever been lucky when you’re on your own? 

“Fuck.” 

It seems as if you’ve lost, but you’re not willing to give up just yet. You spent all of your savings on the deposit and the last thing you’ll do is ask your strict parents for money, which isn’t only super hard but exasperating as well. 

‘’Well now that this whole problem is settled, get out.’’ The tone is harsh and you flinch, tears threatening to spill as you slowly walk to the entrance. 

‘’Wait—’’ You hold your hands up, your feet freezing down on the tiled floor and the stranger’s expression turns into pure disgust yet confusion. You aren’t really sure, your mind is basically clouded reasons being your lack of sleep. Which currently isn’t helping the situation you’re currently standing in. If only you could snatch it like Margot Robbie snatches bags and watches in ‘Focus’. This reminds you, you should probably watch it again, it was really good and—

‘’Hello?!’’ The sound catches you off guard, your eyes roaming back onto the half-naked stranger whose name still stays unknown. 

‘’Just. Please.’’ You’re fucking tired and this was the last thing that needed to be added onto your plate yet you’re still standing, except you’re hopeless and homeless. 

‘’Please?! Get. Out.’’ 

You drop down to your knees, your tears falling freely and you plead. 

‘’I have nowhere to go. My old roommate is finally starting a new life with her partner, my parents are fucking strict and are the last I’m calling for help. I’m basically fucking homeless and I just wanted to lay down in my apartment after moving out last minute and sleep.’’ You’re rambling all kinds of nonsense, throwing a whole scene in front of a guy who’s stepped out of the shower. You feel bad but you’re lost. You have nowhere to go. 

‘’Seriously, I’m fucked. Help me out, just— just for six months and I’ll be out of your sight.’’ Your voice cracks, every limb that has managed to withhold your posture, collapsing all together into one. You’re done. 

A deep sigh catches your attention, your glossy eyes looking up to see a semi-smile resting on the guy’s face. ‘’Six months.’’ He repeats as he traces his fingers on the patterned ink, decorating his arm. 

‘’Fine. Just don’t make me regret this. I’m Jungkook by the way.’’ Finally, you discover the name of the pretty stranger. 

‘’Thank you. Thank you so much.’’ You’re holding yourself back from hugging him, mostly because of his naked chest and the last thing you need is to feel warm skin on your own. Instead, you introduce yourself and he smiles awkwardly making you reconsider your awful ruckus from before. You basically admitted how fucked your life is at the moment, bringing along the strict parents into the mix and we all know, this won’t end well. 

A sudden cry snatches every ounce of your attention, coming from one of the rooms. Has someone been here all this time? 

‘’Shit. I think we might’ve woken her up.’’ Her. Great, you’re gonna live with a clingy couple, after having no mercy in showing you were checking him out — multiple times. This is going to be absolute hell. 

All while you’re imagining the messy and mostly awkward encounters you’re going to face while living with a couple, you don’t notice Jungkook walking back out accompanied by a certain someone. 

‘’A baby?!’’ Great. Not only are you going to live with a couple, but their newborn baby too. 

‘’You sound… surprised.’’ He decides to sit down, the baby’s head resting on his bare and tatted shoulder, doe-eyed and mouth agape. 

‘’Where’s… where’s your girlfriend?’’ Shit. Are you even listening to yourself? You met this guy not even an hour ago and you’re already invading his private life with intense questions. 

‘’Don’t have one. It’s just me and So-ah here.’’ He taps her back, a few burps escaping her as you stay quiet. 

The scenery in front of you causes a faint smile to appear on the brim of your lips. If you weren’t determined to own the apartment yourself, you’d let every ounce of you swoon over how careful Jungkook is with his daughter. 

Jungkook takes a hold of her, changing positions as she faces him, her eyes as big as his. It’s crazy how alike they look. 

Your heart melts into a thick puddle when Jungkook rubs his nose against So-ah’s, a soft giggle sounding like a lullaby escaping her right after. 

‘’Oh my god.’’ Jungkook’s mouth drops and before confusion seeps through you he continues. ‘’So-ah you just laughed for the first time.’’ Fuck. You’re so screwed. 

‘’She’s adorable.’’ You smile fondly, Jungkook breaking eye contact with his daughter at your comment. 

His eyebrows frown, clearing his throat as he shifts in his seat. ‘’Thanks.’’ 

Okay, there were exactly two things that fumed you over his flat-toned answer. One was that he was still a complete stranger and you’ve always felt somewhat threatened and uncomfortable when people you didn’t know made or said anything that clicked an icky feeling at the pit of your stomach, which quickly turns to irritation. Because here you are being fucking nice and you get this in return? What a fucking asshole. Second, it’s probably an ego thing, thinking he’s hot enough to get away with being quite literally rude. If it weren’t for his sudden act of rudeness towards your very tired Yeti-looking state you might actually grow fond of him, but that is all forgotten now. 

You’re getting that fucking apartment. 

Working as a kindergarten teacher meant a lot of things. Patience, energy, and consistency. For you to reach there before showing up at work, you’ll need to fuel your body with a smoothie. 

The clock hasn’t even turned six when you push the mixer’s button, a loud noise erupts in the quiet apartment. Did you do this on purpose knowing Jungkook isn’t starting work yet? Maybe. Did he notice, is fucking angry and walking up to you at this moment? Very much so. 

‘’Seriously? What the fuck?!’’ The shouting from your roommate pleases your early morning state and you force an annoying smile as you greet him with a cheerful good morning.  

‘’It’s for work!’’ You push the button for a little longer, his eyes rolling back when So-ah starts crying in the room next to you. The daughter does make you feel an ounce of regret but that’s mostly because you love babies and she’s made a good impression on you already. 

Jungkook groans in frustration, his grumpy state returning back to his daughter to soothe her while you hurriedly get to work. Your colleague is probably already there, having a different schedule than you. 

Traffic isn’t terrible and you’ve caught onto the lost sleep that vanished during your moving week. As you reach work, Taehyung waves excitedly to you from the entrance, while holding a cup of coffee. 

‘’You look awfully happy.’’ Taehyung remarks when you walk past him and inside, re-adjusting a few things before parents begin to arrive with their sunshine of kids. 

‘’I am.’’ Your mood definitely has something to do with nailing to piss Jungkook off early in the morning. That’s what he gets for being a complete ass after you’ve embarrassed yourself multiple times and just trying to be kind. 

‘’Care to tell me?’’ Taehyung moves his eyebrows, suggesting you got lucky and you quickly shut down the idea, shaking your head no along with you explaining it was an early win for you. 

‘’I basically pissed off my roommate this morning. He’s an asshole so he deserved it.’’ You shrug your shoulders, Taehyung following behind you as you both make the place ready, the clock ticking loudly behind you. 

‘’Roommate? I thought you had the place all to yourself?’’ Taehyung hadn’t gotten any updates from you since your stressful week, so it made sense for him to be completely lost when you mention Jungkook in the context of your cheerful mood this morning. 

‘’I got scammed. But I’m not surprised. I’ve carried bad luck all my life and I blame it on my strict parents.’’ You joke, Taehyung chuckling nervously unsure rather you’re completely kidding or deadly serious. It’s hard to tell.  

‘’Scammed, meaning the apartment you thought you had was already occupied?’’ Taehyung has lived in the city all his life, and he has been familiar with the scammers roaming in between others, and cheating the system who carries a blind eye. 

‘’Exactly, and here I was thinking shit like that only happens in the movies.’’ You scoff at the ridiculousness of the overall situation. How come you ended here? Not only with a scam, but a buff tatted guy and his baby daughter? Truly fucking wild. 

‘’Oh babe, you’d be surprised. So who’s the roommate? An old lady?’’ Taehyung jokes once again, the sounds of chairs clinging against each other roaming in the air, the both of you settling in the common room ready for the children. 

‘’I wouldn’t exactly say an old lady…’’ Taehyung’s interest quirks an ounce higher, his movements stopping to a halt, waiting for you to spill. 

‘’His name is Jungkook and he has a baby daughter named So-ah.’’ Taehyung’s face drops, eyes wide as his mouth hangs wide because clearly, no old lady is named Jungkook. 

‘’If you tell me right now he’s hot, I’m gonna think you’re living out everyone’s fantasy.’’ Taehyung holds up his pointy finger, eyebrow intact with his overall movement and you cringe because you really don’t want to admit Jungkook is hot — even though you ogled his abs for a good 20 minutes the first time you met him. 

‘’He’s—’’ You try to form words, your mind flashing images of Jungkook with wet hair, droplets of water covering his abs that tensed whenever he chuckled at your ridiculousness the day you got scammed. 

‘’Oh my god… You’re living with a DILF.’’ The term Taehyung uses makes you wheeze, losing composure as you move your body along with the laughter that escapes you. 

Taehyung doesn’t get more of a word before the first pair of parents walk in, hand in hand with their child. The day has just begun. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook is currently taking care of So-ah. She hasn’t stopped crying since you decided to be annoying and flush down the good morning that Jungkook had anticipated. Maybe he should kick you out because right now his left ear hasn’t stopped ringing while his daughter’s face is almost pure red due to her countless cries. 

‘’So-ah, please.’’ Jungkook places her down on his chest, her face rubbing on it, wetting it along, the discomforting sound continuing. Jungkook feels lost and he wants to revenge himself on you because you’re probably dancing at work while he’s here, with dark eye bags and a crying baby under his arm. 

Sometimes it makes him wonder if it would be different if So-ah’s mother were still around. Maybe she wouldn’t cry as much. A mother’s touch is important for babies at her age and Jungkook feels guilty. In reality, he just wants So-ah to be okay, to feel understood, and frankly, at the moment understanding her is difficult. He continues to pat her back, rocking her back and forth in his gaming chair, set up by the computer that has an awaiting meeting for him in two hours. He can do this, he’ll just freshen up as soon as she goes back to sleep. 

The day spins around faster than possible, the sun already setting behind the building in an orange glow and Taehyung is currently wiping down the mess that was left on the tables since lunch. 

‘’So, regarding your dilf, is he single?’’ You’re close to spilling the scene where you asked Jungkook where his partner was only to get a no, which only made you more curious than before. It isn’t likely for you in the span of living to have met a single father. In most cases it’s single mothers, so to say you were surprised was an understatement. 

‘’He— Yes, apparently he is.’’ You’re uncertain and Taehyung casually nods at the response, making you reconsider if you’re even allowed to be curious regarding Jungkook’s living situation. 

‘’Well, this is the start of a beautiful love story.’’ You stick your tongue out in offense to Taehyung’s joke, while he cracks himself up, his boxy smile on display as well. 

‘’You’re the worst.’’ He trails right behind you, as you close down the place and leave it behind for tomorrow. 

‘’Right, but if anyone were to ask you’d still point at me for being the best colleague you’ve had.’’ He’s not entirely wrong and you get to prove it to him by remaining silent. 

After you and Taehyung part ways, you hurry home in desperation to see if the grumpy expression is still remaining on Jungkook’s face from this morning. To your surprise, it isn’t. You find Jungkook sprawled on the couch, his chest exposed and his baby daughter laying on top of him, both of them breathing in sync. 

If Jeon Jungkook didn’t open his mouth from time to time you’d start to like him, because seeing him sleep in complete silence makes him seem… not so bad as you had thought. But then again he was rude even though he certainly helped you out after your scam episode. 

You decide to make dinner, leaving the both of them to rest while listening to soothing jazz music. Somehow with time passing by and the smell filtering through the apartment as it cooks, Jungkook stirs awake, So-ah along with him. He manages to push himself upwards, holding onto So-ah and finds you swaying as you cook in the open kitchen. 

Memories cloud Jungkook’s mind back when he was still with— 

‘’Oh! You’re awake.’’ You had felt a pair of eyes boring at your back, so when you turn to see Jungkook spacing out you make yourself noticeable. 

‘’Yeah, smells great by the way.’’ It’s then Jungkook realizes he’s yet to wear a shirt and it’s become an accidental habit of being shirtless in front of you. The last thing he wants is for you to get the wrong signal. 

‘’Thank you.’’ You take the compliment lightly, letting it pass by your head so your focus remains on the main goal; having Jungkook willingly move out. 

Jungkook is completely oblivious to your plan, although it would make sense if he slowly started to catch on to your smoothie early morning surprise. But for now, you’re hungry and there’s still a good five months left before you leave each other’s sight. 

The dinner turns out successful, So-ah doesn’t cry once and both you and Jungkook groan afterward, bloated from overeating. He thanks you before returning back to his room, leaving you to do all the dishes. 

Great. 

Living with Jungkook had run smoothly, your hopes in gaining the apartment fading the more time went by with him being extremely kind. It hadn’t offended you but you were certain he was rude and didn’t like you. But an early Monday morning, Jungkook proved to you exactly how much that apartment means to you. 

You hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep that night, the walls a lot thinner than you had anticipated and So-ah had cried most of the night, not only waking her dad but you as well. Babies are wonderful creatures, but at night it surely paints a different motive than the one you’re being met with during the day. 

Blaming Jungkook for your lack of sleep would be rude on your part, so you accept it by making a cup of coffee early morning. It was the next best solution and as you’re sitting on the counter, waiting for the water to boil, Jungkook walks in dressed in black joggers and a white t-shirt. 

‘’Morning.’’ You’re holding back from laughing at how alike the both of you look. So-ah really destroyed you for the better. Jungkook joins in on the coffee solution, making his mug ready right next to you in silence. 

When the water is ready, you jump down, pouring the warm water after adding a few teaspoons of instant coffee. Jungkook follows you right after, stirring it with his spoon. As you walk towards the refrigerator, Jungkook is quicker than you, pulling the milk out and pouring it into his mug. 

‘’Could you pass me the milk?’’ Jungkook grins at your question and it’s then you notice he’s poured the remaining drops, leaving no milk for you. Fucking marvelous. 

‘’Better luck next time.’’ He winks at you, slowly walking back to his room as you flick him off without him noticing. 

Yeah, you definitely spoke too soon when you even let yourself think Jungkook might be a nice guy. He’s not and he just started a war. 

Taehyung notices how different your state is today, the flatlined smile throwing him off guard. Being the good colleague that he is, he makes you sit down as he prepares everything. 

‘’I’m not doing this for free, spill.’’ You groan out of tiredness and anger, holding your face that can barely keep up with everything around you. 

‘’Fucking… Jungkook.’’ You squint your eyes, already plotting how you’ll manage to rip every part of him apart. Taehyung would lie if he admitted that you in your current state isn’t scaring the shit out of him. 

‘’I was beginning to think he was remotely nice, until this morning.’’ Taehyung hums along, uncertain where exactly you’re heading with this conversation. It’s something Taehyung has learned about you in the past years you’ve worked alongside, your conversations always turn in a different direction no matter how precisely you start them.  

‘’Taehyung, would you get pissed if someone took the rest of the milk when you’ve already prepared a cup of coffee?’’ 

‘’He didn’t—’’ 

Everything makes sense for Taehyung. Jungkook has practically started a war with you because one thing everyone should know when it comes to you is to never mess with your morning coffee. Specifically when you desperately need one. 

‘’He surely fucking did.’’ You scoff out of disbelief. ‘’He even laughed when he emptied it.’’ The images flash through your brain once more, a betrayal that has caused a lot of damage to your already ruined morning state due to So-ah. 

‘’Go make yourself some coffee, don’t let him get to your head for now. It’s not worth it.’’ Taehyung was right, it would stupid to hold milk accountable for Jungkook and your reasons for despising him. Hopefully, it was a mistake and you’ll return home with a better state of mind, Jungkook leaving you rather at peace.

You follow Taehyung’s instructions, walking inside the semi-small kitchen for staff, and begin making your fuel for the day. 

Work turns out easier after you get coffee in your system, Taehyung takes most of the tasks throughout the day to ease down any forms of headaches that might come along due to your lack of sleep. Small moments and gestures like these, remind you how truly lucky you are to have a colleague like Taehyung. He has never made things more difficult, always managing to make everything easy and simple. 

As soon as the clock strikes, parents fill up the entrance awaiting their children who are too busy playing outside, enjoying their free time. The sun has already moved down further, creating a beautiful sunset, whose golden rays move along the filled playground that’s messy due to every toy in sight being used throughout the day. The parents were kind enough to teach their kids to always clean up after themselves, leaving the entrance the remaining spot to clean. When you’re about to reach for a broom, Taehyung catches it before you. 

‘’Go home. I got this.’’ His voice is stern as if he already knows you’re about to plead to do it yourself. 

You let out a sigh, thanking him as many times as you can in the span of you dressing yourself up to go outside. Taehyung brushes you off, a semi-smile resting nicely on his framed face. 

The apartment is empty, silent, and dark when you enter. You wonder where Jungkook must’ve gone, the sky from outside already an ounce darker than when you stepped out from work. You’re not too worried, your petty self still being remotely annoyed with the morning incident. 

When you walk past the living room, you feel yourself crash down and watching a movie. It’s much needed after today and maybe it’ll slowly lull you to sleep. Since you were little, sleeping at night had always been a difficulty so a distraction in the background could likely push you towards the sleep you’ve been craving. 

You settle on watching a crime film that piques your interest on Netflix. You’ve managed to add a bit more lighting inside the apartment, a few lamps surrounding the couch.

The plot starts to reveal itself, leaving you speechless as you bite down on the blanket, eyes fully open, trailing along whenever someone moves on screen. You’re just about to catch a big lead to why the certain murder occurred when Jungkook walks in with So-ah drinking from a bottle.  

‘’Oh, hey.’’ You quickly say before averting your attention back on the screen. Jungkook squints his eyes, having trouble seeing the big screen but as soon as he catches on, he tsks. 

‘’Wait— Isn’t that the film where the protagonist is actually the killer?’’ The moment Jungkook speaks, a clue leads to having the protagonist on the list of who might’ve done it and now Jeon Jungkook just asked for a ticket to hell. 

‘’Are you fucking kidding me?!’’ You exclaim loudly, throwing both hands and arms in the air, frustration seeping through every vein coursing through your body. You’re seeing absolute red. 

‘’Oh shit, my bad.’’ You aren’t even glancing towards him, but you can hear the shit eating grin he’s trying to suppress. You close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, remembering Taehyung’s words from earlier. It’s not worth it. He’s right, it truly isn’t and you’re being weak by letting small annoying things set you off like a grenade. 

You’re not letting him win. Things have only just begun. 

Returning the favor with annoying gestures had only turned the next two months into a living hell. The apartment went from walking on a dream to walking on eggshells. It had started with a minor mistake in the early morning with the dreadful lack of sleep and constant bickering. Your dreams of owning the apartment slowly crashing as you’ve been looking for new apartments, wanting to get furthest away from Jeon Jungkook and his annoying behavior. 

If it weren’t for Taehyung you would’ve handled the situation differently, but Taehyung has always assured you to stand your ground and not let him get to you. Jungkook has already been kind enough for you to stay, so to make it easier, it’d be best not to mess it up by revenging yourself. But you badly wanted to. Just once. To see Jungkook’s face twist to annoyance in a mere second, while you try your best not to sing happily right after. 

Although, the only thing keeping both you and Jungkook on the ground from ripping one's hair out, was So-ah. Her magical baby powers overrule the both of you, and her eyes are wide and full of hope for what’s to come. 

When you had first moved in, Jungkook wasn’t exactly fond of you being near his daughter but with time and his suddenly busy schedule, he had you keep an eye out for So-ah who was distracting him too much with her cuteness. So-ah quickly loved your company, your small jokes, and countless attempts in making her giggle. Jungkook couldn’t keep you two away from one another, so he accepted it. 

The weekend had finally rolled around and after a week of none other than small bickering and disagreements between you and Jungkook, you were finally at ease in your bedroom. The discussions between you were ridiculous — Taehyung’s words not yours. It could go from a minor detail, like the temperature in the apartment to a full-on debate on whether the film he wants to watch is better than your own choice. 

As you’re laying in your bed, you look up at the painted dark blue ceiling, your curtains open, accepting the outside light to shine in. You’ve always loved the natural darkness and how it covers every room differently than if everything is covered, turning to full darkness. You turn constantly, your mind being more awake than you had anticipated. It humors you that you always feel exhausted after speaking with Jungkook, yet here you are alone full of energy. 

Tossing and turning continue for what feels like an hour and you decide to give up. Rather than reading a book, you walk out to grab a glass of water, your throat feeling a bit dry. You figure Jungkook isn’t awake at three in the morning, which explains why you don’t put on pants, walking out in nothing but a satin white t-shirt, with black lace underwear. 

Even though you don’t like Jungkook, you still show respect to him and his daughter by carefully walking to the kitchen to not make any sounds. The living room has the same light as your bedroom and as you’re about to turn, you bump into Jungkook. His skin feels warm, but you quickly pull away and Jungkook blinks at you with tired eyes. 

‘’M’ sorry.’’ His voice is deep, groggy even and you collect the dots that Jeon Jungkook just woke up. 

‘’All good.’’ 

Thankfully, Jungkook is too busy going to the bathroom to notice your sleeping attire that exposes half of your body. You sigh in relief, accidentally catching a glimpse of Jungkook’s ass, being hugged by his boxers as he walks further away from you. 

You shake your head, ignoring what your eyes caught onto, focusing solemnly on getting water as planned. 

You’re about to drink your last cup when Jungkook walks past you once again. You’re not in the mood to talk to him, so you chug your water wanting to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible. It doesn’t exactly go as planned, the water trickling by the corners of your lips, further down your shirt. 

‘’Fuck.’’ You groan, realizing how much you’ve accidentally spilled. The fabric clings onto your breasts and as you’re about to pull on it, you catch Jungkook turning his head quickly from your direction. The action doesn’t throw itself in your head, instead, you become annoyed. 

‘’What?’’ Why is he still standing here? Shouldn’t he already be back in his room by now? 

‘’J-just grabbing some water.’’ Jungkook mumbles, his voice becoming an ounce lower and somehow it catches your attention that he sounds nervous? 

‘’Be my guest.’’ You move further away, trying to cover your lower half who’s exposing too much to your roommate who has managed to piss you off for two months straight with absolutely no reason. 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the sink, although you throw a glance at him and you really wish you hadn’t. His arms are flexing as they hold onto the counter, and the prominent veins and lines of his definite muscles are showcased. You begin to notice each small detail of his tattoos that have managed to flow into one big art piece on his arm. 

You’ve been too annoyed with Jungkook to notice the minor details of him. His Adam's apple bops in the rhythm of the gulps he takes, almost inhaling the water quickly. Somehow your body reacts quicker than your mind, shivers coursing through your body the longer you stand and watch Jungkook. The staring gets cut off when Jungkook places the empty cup down on the counter. 

He throws a glance your way, your skin already feeling hot by the close space. ‘’Well, goodnight.’’ Jungkook walks past you, your faces inches apart for a split second before he’s gone from your sight. 

When you lay back down in your bed, your heart is beating incredibly fast and your body doesn’t stop growing hotter. What is wrong with you? This is Jungkook. As in your roommate, who’s made it his life’s mission in pissing you off and almost made you explode like a grenade for the whole world to see and the neighborhood to hear. 

All while you’re wondering why exactly your brain feels fuzzy, Jungkook is freaking out in his room. His dick has managed to betray him. He blames it on his lack of hookups, but deep down he knows it was because of you. His mind had fogged for a minute when he caught a glimpse of what was hiding underneath your t-shirt, but as soon as the water dripped down he didn’t even have to try and guess. He’s angry and frustrated at himself and if it were possible to have a one-on-one fight with his dick, he would’ve. His body had only betrayed him and that made him certain that he had to stay far away from you. 

Although, whenever Jungkook closed his eyes he could see your naked thighs, and the black lace seeping through the material of your shirt. He could see the water dripping down your neck, rolling further down your chest and creating a wet patch on your— 

This has to stop. Jungkook begins to think of everything that turns him off until his state finally gives in, letting him sleep. 

It takes longer for you. Your mind has always loved to play tricks, letting you imagine the what if’s of every situation you’re met with. They’re simple at first, only showcasing what you had seen earlier when your eyes didn’t stop studying every minor detail on Jungkook. But then they turn an ounce wilder. You’re tracing your fingers on the ink, while his arm is holding onto your waist, keeping you close and letting you feel his warm breath against your cheek. 

Fuck. 

Do you… do you want Jungkook? 

Taehyung notices it the moment you step into work, how quiet you are, not daring to meet his eyes when he cheerfully greets you. Something happened and you’re not exactly proud of it. 

‘’So, am I gonna have to ask or are you going to tell me what happened?’’ Your eyes pop open, gulping down as you mumble out a weak ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ and quickly move on with your tasks for the day. 

Taehyung isn't letting that slide so easily and sooner or later he’ll either find out for himself or you’ll tell him out of panic. 

It takes Kim Taehyung exactly four hours to know exactly what has been bothering you and just as you’re about to leave the kindergarten, he decides to bring it up. 

‘’You want to fuck him.’’ You stop in your tracks. 

Okay, now is the time to use your fifth grade theater skills and act as if Taehyung didn’t speak your thoughts out in the open. 

‘’Fuck Jungkook? As in Jeon Jungkook, my annoying roommate who’s made my living situation a living hell the last two months? Oh please.’’ 

‘’Y/N, you know that doesn’t work on me.’’ You sigh loudly, rolling your eyes. 

‘’Fine, fine!’’ You throw your hands in the air, giving up and Taehyung just shakes his head over your dramatic antics. 

‘’I thought you, ‘hated his guts’.’’ Taehyung quotes you from the past hundred conversations you’ve had regarding your roommate and the new banter you’ve yet shared before you left for work. 

‘’I still do! This will fade, do not worry.’’ Not only are you trying to convince Taehyung, but yourself as well. 

Taehyung doesn’t argue with you. You have enough on your plate already and he knows you’re very much conscious of the mess you’ve brought upon yourself. 

When you leave work and Taehyung, your phone starts to ring in your pocket and you’re thrilled to see Ash’s name displayed. 

‘’Hi!’’ Your friend cheerfully greets you and the conversations immediately flows. She tells you how amazing it’s been living with Lucca and how they’re currently making her favorite dish. 

‘’That’s great babe.’’ When she’s about to ask you how your new apartment is, Lucca cuts her off, talking on the phone instead. 

‘’Y/N, come over! We have your favorite wine.’’ The offer tempts and you agree, taking transportation towards your old apartment. It doesn’t even faze you to text Jungkook that you’ll come home a bit later, too excited to see your friends again after so long. 

Jungkook has just finished changing So-ah’s diaper, when he realizes it’s dark outside and you haven’t come home yet. Just as he begins to worry, he scolds himself internally for worrying about you as if he even cares about you in the first place. You’re doing fine without him. Right? 

So-ah grabs Jungkook’s attention when she manages to roll over for the first time and Jungkook cheers her on, grabbing her face to give her kisses everywhere, her small arms flapping excitedly. 

‘’Wait, you have a roommate?’’ Lucca asks, as they pour a glass of wine in your almost empty glass. You find yourself sighing whenever Jungkook is mentioned and you quickly see the images of his body against the natural darkness in the kitchen. 

‘’Yes, two actually.’’ 

You spend the following thirty minutes explaining your scam situation, Jungkook and his baby daughter now being your roommates for the next six months. You mention your irritation towards Jungkook due to his annoying antics, and the kitchen encounter. 

‘’Woah.’’ Ash’s mouth has gone dry from keeping it open for a while, and Lucca doesn’t hesitate to drink up the rest of the wine in their glass. 

The situation is indeed complicated and overwhelming and you chug along with Lucca on the wine while Ash starts coughing. 

‘’But listen, just because I’ve thought about it doesn’t mean I would.’’ Excuses, that’s all you can bring to the table and Ash rolls her eyes at your ridiculousness. 

‘’Are you fucking kidding me? You haven’t had sex for almost a year. Babe, sorry but you’re gonna cave.’’ 

Your mouth drops in offense and you turn to get Lucca on your side, but they stay quiet which indicates they agree with every word. 

‘’S-seriously? You’re gonna pick Ash’s side over mine?’’ You point at your ex-roommate who smirks, knowing she’s won. 

‘’Y/N, you need a distraction.’’ Ash speaks first, holding onto both of your hands for comfort because she’s worried, you can see it in her eyes that slightly crinkle when she speaks. 

‘’A distraction?’’ 

‘’Yes, someone who isn’t Jungkook.’’ Lucca winces at the idea, watching Ash explain an idea that’s nothing but awful and stupid. 

‘’Um, maybe this isn’t—’’ Lucca tries to butt in, but Ash is stubborn. 

‘’Nonsense. Isn’t your friend Han-bin still single?’’ 

‘’Well, yes but—’’ 

‘’Perfect. Y/N, you should go on a date with Han-bin. Not only is he a very sweet guy, but he’s an excellent cook.’’ Ash tries her best to sell Han-bin as best as possible for you, and at this point you’re desperate to try anything. Anything to get Jungkook and his beautiful body out of your mind. 

‘’Okay, you can give him my number.’’ Lucca is about to throw a fight with Ash, but you’ve already agreed so there’s no point. 

‘’You’re not going to regret this babe.’’ Ash convinces you but deep down your gut feeling shifts uncomfortably at the idea. 

Two and a half weeks. That’s how long it takes for you and Han-bin to find some time for the date that he’s planning. The pictures frame him nicely and it’s no lie that the guy is attractive, although your mood is dreading a weird feeling that you can’t exactly pinpoint. 

As you walk towards the exit, Jungkook notices how nicely dressed you are. Normally you don’t bother adding a formality to your outfits, but this… this is too classy, just not you. 

‘’Going somewhere?’’ You turn your head, Jungkook watching you from the couch as So-ah is laying on his legs, holding onto her dad’s pinky. 

‘’Actually, yes I am.’’ You answer confidently, holding tightly onto the strap of your bag. The bag whom your mom gifted you for your eighteenth birthday, when in reality you just wished for Jackson Wang merch. The bag is more expensive than your rent, and you feel weird using it today. Somehow you aren’t that comfortable being yourself yet, also the restaurant Han-bin has picked out is way too expensive for you to just wear your casual attire. 

‘’But, I’m gonna be late for my date so I’ll see you later yeah?’’ Jungkook tries not to react to the word date, but his jaw clenched as he tries to force out a fake smile. 

‘’Good for you.’’ Jungkook expects you to leave right away, but you catch him by surprise, walking towards him and So-ah. 

‘’Bye, pretty.’’ You squish her cheeks softly, as she coos excitedly and Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at the love seeping through the room. His daughter watches you with careful eyes as you remove yourself from the frame, walking towards the front door and Jungkook’s heart doesn’t stop pounding, he thinks he might faint. 

You’ve only been gone for an hour and Jungkook can’t stop thinking about you. His mind constantly brings back the small kitchen encounter and how both your faces were inches apart for a split second before he continued to walk towards his room. 

He needs to make this stop. He’s here at home groaning and frustrated over you, you who’s currently on a date and having a wonderful time. 

‘’So, then my roommate proceeded to drink the same water!’’ Han-bin explains jokingly and you’ve lost track of the many gross experiences he’s had with his four roommates. You’ve lost your appetite halfway through, the gross details clouding your mind, but thankfully it’s that and not Jungkook. 

Before you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, Han-bin compliments your hair and you smile at the sincerity of his comment. It makes you realize that Jungkook has never once pointed out something great about you. Wait, why are you even thinking about Jungkook? 

There’s only one solution for Jungkook to get you out of his mind. He’s collected the dots and it’s because he hasn’t sex for a year that he’s acting this way. You just managed to set him off. It’s nothing more personal than that. 

So, easily he’ll just need to get out there, maybe Jimin would be down to go clubbing tonight, and hopefully Jungkook gets to take someone home. Which explains why he’s now talking to his sister, arranging for her to have So-ah for the weekend. She gladly accepts, her husband shouting nonsense in the background which causes Jungkook to laugh before his sister has to hang up, because her husband is messing up everything in the kitchen. 

The date for you might’ve started out a bit weird, but slowly you realize Han-bin is a really nice guy and you enjoy talking to him. The conversation has a good balance, both of you speaking equally about interests, experiences… 

‘’Want me to walk you home?’’ Han-bin suggests. 

You have a lot on your mind, even though you managed to have a nice evening it doesn’t stop the nonsense that you’ve created for yourself regarding your roommate who you have the hots for. 

‘’I’m okay, thank you for tonight Han-bin.’’ 

It’s a little over midnight when you arrive home. The apartment is dark which is code for bedtime for the whole house. So, you play quietly, tiptoeing to your room and trying your best to not make a sound. 

You hear a sudden whine echoing in the apartment, and before you can ask any questions, Jungkook’s name is being moaned loudly and your body freezes in place. You’re stuck. Although, the moans don’t slow down, only increasing — the thin walls doing no favor for you. 

Emotions are all over the place. You don’t know if you’re angry, irritated, sad, happy, uncomfortable… you’re just stuck with no words. 

As you finally lay down, you squish your third pillow over your head, blocking out the skin slapping sounds and somehow — weirdly — the situation motivates you to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head. 

Step one to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head, find a clubbing partner. 

‘’Taehyung, shut up you haven’t done anything else than complain about the lack of sex you’ve been experiencing lately.’’ You reason, as you look through your closet for eye-catching clothes that surely will get you laid. 

‘’Fuck you, you always know what to say to get me to agree.’’ With a groan Taehyung finally says the magic word, telling you he’ll see you later. This was easier than you had expected. 

Step two to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head, find a club loaded with hot people. 

Thankfully, Taehyung knows his way around town and the club he’s picked out is perfect. As soon as you both step in, the neon lights catch you off guard along with the hard base and the moving dance floor. 

Going out with Taehyung is fun, until he’s shoving his tongue down a guy’s throat. Apparently they met by the bar, and Taehyung being the flirt, persuaded the stranger easily. 

Sipping on your straw, you keep your eyes on a lookout for a potential hookup. Most are occupied, either sexting someone or having someone close by. The bartender in front of you notices the wearing frown that covers your beautiful face. 

‘’You okay?’’ The unrecognizable voice catches you off guard and when you set eye on the bartender, your mouth tries not to drop. 

The bartender is wearing a tight black t-shirt, showcasing his pecs and built shoulders. His hair is long, pulled behind a snapback. He looks at you with a worried expression, holding onto the counter. 

‘’I’m okay.’’ You force a smile. 

‘’Come on, I can tell something is bothering you. I’m all ears.’’ 

The offer is kind and just as you’re about to say no, the bartender continues. 

‘’Listen, I couldn’t help but notice your friend making out with that guy for the past thirty minutes.’’ You turn around, Taehyung is still going at it and you roll your eyes over your colleague being better than you at getting some. 

‘’Yeah, he’s got more luck than myself.’’ You sigh, folding your arms over the counter and the bartender cracks a laugh. 

‘��Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get lucky.’’ He winks and your body grows hot. 

‘’I’m giving it an hour, or else I’m leaving.’’ You crack, and the bartender raises his eyebrows. 

You watch as the bartender walks to the far side of the bar and comes out front to stand right in front of you. He towers over you and you have to lift your head to look into his eyes, watching as they darken. One of his hands snakes around to the small of your back as he pulls you towards him. Your chest is flushed against his own and now you can really feel the hardness of his pecs and your mouth waters. He places his other hand around to the side of your neck, lowering himself closer to your face. His lips ghost your ear, the skin making the slightest contact as he speaks.

"You don't need an hour."

A shiver rakes through your body at the proposition.

"I don't even know your name," you say with a hint of a giggle laced in your tone.

"The name's Namjoon.’’ You nod, tracing your finger on his broad shoulder while his eyes continue to explore every inch of you. 

‘’Y/N.’’ 

His grip tightens on you, and before you get a chance to speak Namjoon beats you to it. 

‘’Wanna get out of here?’’ 

It takes nothing more than for you to drag Namjoon home with you, leaving Taehyung and his hookup behind. 

Namjoon is bold that you’re completely blown away by his confidence. He’s managed to make you wet before even reaching your apartment. His words only build up the intensity of the situation and when you finally reach the front door, you look back, Namjoon biting on his lip as he patiently waits. 

When the code is pushed in, you grab Namjoon by the collar of his bomber jacket, until you reach your room. 

Namjoon doesn’t waste another minute, grabbing you once again by the waist to connect your lips in a needy and passionate kiss. It’s full of tongue, along with lip bites. You whine against them when the tip of his tongue coats your bottom lip as he mischievously smirks. 

Your hands tug on his neck, pulling him as close as you can, all while his hands slip under your shirt and roam on your naked back. His hands are slightly cold, sending a shiver. With enough pulling on each other’s clothes in desperation, Namjoon is the first to pull away trying to catch his breath. 

‘’Take off your shirt.’’ You don’t hesitate to obey, tugging on your top in a hurry before it lands on your bedroom floor. 

Jungkook had just finished a last minute task at work, realizing he had enough time for a game of Overwatch. He’s focused on aiming, the mouse moving at a speed, along with the clicks on his keyboard. Just as he’s about to reach a win, he hears the front door lock. 

He removes his headset, in doubt if he should walk out and greet you, ask you about your night with Taehyung or stay and play stubborn. The decision gets made for him, when he hears an unfamiliar voice coming from your room. 

Wait. 

Namjoon hovers over you, his hands wandering over your upper body, not missing one inch. His warm breath almost swallows you whole as you slowly spread your legs further beneath him. 

He catches the signal quickly, moving more downwards, letting his mouth trail wildly on your naked skin. He nips at it softly, before replacing it with a wet kiss. 

As he’s reached further down, Namjoon locks eyes with you, supporting both hands on your waist. 

‘’Can I eat you out?’’ 

When Jungkook hears the first moan from your room, he feels instant irritation. In reality, it’s not anything he can actually get mad about, when not even twenty four hours ago, he was knees deep in a stranger. But something ticks in Jungkook when he hears how someone else is making you moan like that. 

‘’Ah— Fuck!’’ Your grip tightens on Namjoon’s long dark hair, his tongue rolling over your clit in circles. 

Namjoon is making sure you feel every inch of pleasure, taking his time with his mouth and fingers. You’ve forgotten how great it feels, and Namjoon was definitely the right guy to bring home.

His mouth pushes further against your core, lapping his tongue wherever it can reach and your legs begin to shake under his touch. It’s been a while for you, so your body doesn’t hold you back any further from the reaching orgasm, coming from beneath you. 

Jungkook has blocked out the sounds from your room with his headphones. The sounds from Overwatch are helping him hear only the gunshots and effects the game carries, yet the sounds don’t stop him from feeling a tinge of jealousy. He doesn’t want to admit it, too stubborn to do so. But the thought of someone making you come this second, settles itself as an uncomfortable pit in his stomach and he grabs his mouse more aggressively, frustration coursing through his veins. 

What are you doing to him?  

Time passes quickly, both you and Jungkook distancing each other from one another. You barely throw a glance at one another. For example, yesterday when Jungkook passed by the living room, you were sitting in silence as New Girl rolled in the background. He knows you could hear him passing, but you didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. Jungkook wishes deep down that the action didn’t hurt him, but somehow it did and now he can’t be around you for his own well being. 

Which results in one month of barely any contact. 

Although, it changes the day Jungkook has to go to a meeting. His boss was okay with him bringing So-ah, as Ji-eun didn’t have time to pick her up for a few hours — and he surely didn’t want to ask you. 

So-ah behaves, zero disturbance caused to the meeting and Jungkook lets her hold his pinky while his boss throws in the plan for the upcoming year. 

When the meeting ends, Jungkook gets a lot of praise from his boss which flusters him as he leaves the building. 

‘’Ready to go home So-ah?’’ She responds with her mouth doing all kinds of noises. She’s slowly growing more, and Jungkook is touched of how beautiful his daughter is becoming with each passing day. 

Going home doesn’t go as planned. You see, Jungkook had always worked from home, due to his job consisting of mostly online work. So he barely leaves the apartment except for grocery shopping or to meet Jimin. Which is the reason behind his big mistake; forgetting his keys. 

It was a new system. The code for opening doors had been dropped after scam episodes had increased. Last month the whole residency got new locks along with a pair of keys. 

Jungkook hates himself, because now there’s only one solution and he really doesn’t want to go there. 

When he pulls up by the kindergarten, Jungkook mentally prays the interaction won’t be awkward. Not that it hasn’t been awkward the last month, but this is different. He’s about to enter your workplace for a goddamn key, because his ass rushed out the apartment instead of being smart and double checking that he had everything before leaving in a hurry. 

You’re gonna hate him for this. He can already imagine the slight frown you’ll have, trying your best not to scold him harshly. 

It’s empty when Jungkook walks in, So-ah sitting comfortably in the infant car seat, which Jungkook holds onto tightly. 

‘’Hello?’’ He calls out, the hallway completely deserted. That’s until a man peaks his head out, raising both brows. 

‘’Hi, can I help you?’’ He walks towards him, drying his hands in what seems to be a cloth. 

‘’Hi, yes. I’m looking for Y/N.’’ 

The man in front of him drops his mouth before it turns to a boxy grin. 

‘’Oh my god. Are you Jungkook?’’ The face Jungkook makes, proves the man’s assumption. 

‘’Taehyung? Could you help me with— Jungkook?’’ He turns to see you, your brows in a frown as he suspected. 

‘’Oh, you’re Taehyung?’’ Jungkook completely ignores your confused state, too excited to meet the Kim Taehyung that his roommate is very fond of. 

‘’An honor.’’ Taehyung bows comically, and Jungkook cracks a laugh from the action. Just as Taehyung is about to crouch down to greet So-ah, you step further, meeting Jungkook eye to eye. 

‘’Jungkook? What are you doing here?’’ You ask. 

Taehyung ignores your question, greeting So-ah gently as Jungkook explains to you the situation. He tries to make himself sound less stupid than he was in the situation, but you don’t seem to buy it. 

You sigh, crossing your arms. ‘’How do you even forget a key?’’ Great, you’re starting a fight. 

‘’It just happened, now can I borrow yours so I can get home?’’ Jungkook’s tone is a bit snappy, and you notice, quickly fuming on the inside. 

Taehyung notices the tension, sending a glance to So-ah that screams ‘am I seeing this too?’ So-ah starts laughing and Taehyung knows internally that she agrees with him. He loves her already. 

‘’Fine, just— Don’t let this happen again.’’ You say sternly, before walking away to grab your keys. 

‘’Trust me, it won’t.’’ Jungkook rolls his eyes when your back turns. 

You aggressively shove the keys in Jungkook’s hand, Taehyung still having a conversation with So-ah throwing funny glances, but neither you nor Jungkook notice, too busy staring each other down. 

‘’Great.’’ 

‘’Great!’’ Jungkook responds more aggressively, saying a calm goodbye to Taehyung who excitedly waves to So-ah. And then he’s out of there faster than lighting. 

‘’Jesus, what crawled up your asses?’’ Taehyung asks, scoffing in disbelief. 

‘’Nothing. Now come help me with the outdoor tables.’’ 

He doesn’t ask any further, seeing you really don’t want to talk about it this moment. 

Jungkook has already started to cook when you ring the doorbell. He opens, greeting you with the expression he left you with at work. 

You return the same energy, not speaking to him as you remove your coat. 

You’re about to walk into your bedroom, to avoid Jungkook when So-ah catches your attention in the living room, rolling around on her own and chewing on a toy. She’s too cute to ignore, so you decide to join her, sitting beside her as you squish her cheeks in a playful manner. 

‘’Look at you, you’ve grown so much.’’ You can’t believe you’ve been a witness to So-ah’s growth. She’s already able to grab onto things, rolling around and rocking back and forth which is a sign she’ll be able to crawl soon. 

As you continue to play with her, letting her explore and sing as she babbles all kinds of nonsense, Jungkook turns to watch the scene. 

You’ve always been careful with So-ah, grasping her as your own and caring a lot for her. He’s noticed how So-ah barely cries anymore, being more calm in your presence. He can get used to this, watching you play with his daughter as he cooks for all three of you. He’s at peace, comfortable with everything in front of him and—

The realization hits Jungkook. 

He doesn’t hate you. 

You don’t know exactly the moment you realized you didn’t hate Jungkook. It just happened. One day you were in the kitchen and he walked past you, minding his own business and you didn’t have any urge to throw a remark. No, you felt at ease, letting your eyes admire him rather than watch him out of spite. 

Panic seeped through you when you looked at the overall situation. You don’t hate Jungkook, you’ve thought about fuc— Shit. What does this mean? Do you… do you like him? 

That’s crazy, there’s no way you’re possibly liking Jungkook or even starting too. Which is why you agree to go on yet another date with Han-bin. Last time hadn’t turned out that bad. The company was nice, you felt comfortable and yet something just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the gross experiences Han-bin wasn’t so afraid to share with you, or maybe… because he isn’t a certain someone. 

No. 

You’re going on that date. 

The moment you leave the apartment, Jungkook is taking his afternoon nap with So-ah so you don’t bother notifying him where you’re going. There’s a certain ache in your heart the closer you are to the location picked out by Han-bin. 

Once again, it’s too fancy for your liking but Han-bin makes the environment comfortable with the company of his wild stories. They’re less gross this time and you find yourself laughing at a few of them. 

Time flies rather quickly with Han-bin’s company. If this weren’t a date, you’d be more at ease because Han-bin is a kind person. But dating him might be a stretch for yourself, seeing your mind keeps tracing back to your roommate who probably still hates your guts. 

‘’Hey, can I be honest with you?’’ Han-bin throws you off guard with his question, but you nod regardless. 

‘’I’ve had a great time hanging out with you but,’’ Han-bin looks at you with a genuine and soft smile, ‘’I don’t really think there’s that spark you know?’’ 

‘’Spark?’’ Sure, you’ve dated a few people in the past but no one threw the word spark in the conversation. You think it’s cliché, like every romantic comedy who makes the spark obvious from the beginning. The spark that messes with the main character and their love interest, them tumbling against it until they get in a fight or have to share the same bed, which results in them sharing a passionate kiss and one of them magically proclaims the love they’ve always had for that person. 

That surely doesn’t exist in real life. 

‘’You know, the spark where you know that this person is much more to you. Someone who isn’t just a friend.’’ Han-bin says, his tone laced with hopefulness. It’s then you realize that Han-bin is a romantic, a person who believes in having a special someone for the rest of their life. 

‘’Yeah. I’m sure you’ll find that Han-bin. You’re a great guy.’’ 

‘’Wait, you’re not angry?’’ It’s cute how scared he is to offend you. 

‘’No, no of course not. I see where you’re coming from.’’ Han-bin’s shoulders loosen at your words, feeling more at ease since he’s decided to throw it in the conversation. 

Before you depart your ways, you both come to an agreement of keeping in touch as friends.

Arriving late at the apartment, you move quietly by the entrance. As you’re reaching your bedroom, Jungkook catches you off guard. 

‘’Sorry, did I wake you?’’ 

Jungkook shakes his head, ‘’you’re all good.’’ He doesn’t deny it and you feel a tinge of guilt, seeing the time is past midnight once again. 

You’re about to enter your bedroom door with a simple goodnight, when Jungkook catches you off guard with a question. 

‘’Hey, where were you?’’ Jungkook is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed which only showcase more of his prominent chest and his sleeve sneaking out of his loose t-shirt. 

‘’On a date.’’ You respond coldly, letting go of the handle. 

Jungkook hums, mumbling something along the lines of, ‘’I figured.’’ It throws you off, in a not so cute way. 

‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’ It’s almost as if he spoke in a tone for you to hear on purpose, and you’re falling into his trap. 

He shrugs lightly. ‘’Nothing.’’ He’s about to turn around, wearing a smug smile when you continue, setting yourself up for whatever he’s trying to do. 

‘’Clearly it was something.’’ 

‘’Not really.’’ His unbothered attitude sets you off like a grenade, and you’ve finally lost your cool with Jeon Jungkook. 

‘’You know what? You drive me fucking nuts!’’ You aren’t bothered to care how much you’ve raised your voice. 

‘’You’re always pissing me off! For no fucking reason!?’’ Your face feels hot, the anger spilling out of you. 

Jungkook scoffs, unfolding his arms and moving closer to you. 

‘’I pissed you off because you started this! With your fucking morning smoothie.’’ He isn’t helping with the noise, raising his voice as much as you. 

‘’That was one time. Do you need me to quote every time you’ve managed to throw me off?!’’ Your veins are straining against your neck, giving everything you have into your shouting. 

‘’Go ahead!’’ 

‘’You took the rest of the milk. You spoiled the movie I was currently watching. You threw remarks whenever I did the slightest thing, and now? Now you’re commenting on my date!’’ 

Jungkook rolls his eyes at your comment, not bothering to answer you. Yet you continue, because you’re fueling on the inside. 

‘’You have no rights, when you were fucking someone else!’’ You’ve given the signal that you were somehow affected by it, and Jungkook quickly catches it. 

‘’You sound jealous.’’ 

‘’I’m not.’’ You cross your arms, determined to not let him think otherwise. 

‘’Just admit it!’’ 

Your faces are mere inches apart, both panting at a rapid pace. The whole room is heated and you feel yourself sweat underneath your shirt from all the shouting. 

‘’Fuck you.’’ It’s barely a whisper. 

Neither of you move. Eyes are wandering on each other’s faces and that’s when you notice Jungkook’s gaze dropping down to your lips. 

You’re seeing red, although your body feels heated as you move closer, Jungkook’s breath melting into yours. 

Jungkook studies your gaze, before he moves closer, his lips about to brush against yours. 

Just as you’re about to lean in yourself, So-ah starts crying next door, snapping the both of you out of your trance. 

‘’I– I better…’’ Jungkook starts. 

‘’Y-yeah, go ahead.’’ You stutter, moving further away and when Jungkook leaves the hallway, you breathe out. 

What the actual fuck. 

The following days you avoid Jungkook like the plague. You’ve never been more confused and irritated before. And yet, you can’t stop thinking about it. How close his face was, how his lips were about to seek yours until So-ah started to cry. 

Decisions need to be made. You can’t continue on like this. You need to talk to Jungkook, without screaming at him and wanting to rip his face off. 

As you’re laying under the covers, your thoughts are spiraling around you. You’re contemplating if you should ask him to talk now, because your mind won’t let you rest if you don’t. 

Fuck it. 

You get up in a hurry, walking in a straight line directly to Jungkook’s room. After a few minutes of just staring Jungkook’s door down, your body gives in, knocking on his door calmly. 

When he opens the door, he’s surprised to see you. 

‘’Hey.’’ 

‘’Hi, can we talk? No fighting, just talk.’’ Jungkook nods, grabbing a hoodie by his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to wake up So-ah, so you sit outside, with a cup of tea. It was your idea. Somehow tea always managed to calm down your nerves, and if you wanted to withhold your promise to not fight, you needed to drink some tea along the way. 

‘’What did you want to talk about?’’ He sounds nervous, and your mind re-directs you back to when the both of you were about to kiss in the heat of the moment. 

Instead of bringing that onto the table, you want to ask Jungkook some things that have never left your mind since you moved in. 

‘’It’s more a question.’’ You make it clear and Jungkook turns his head, nodding for you to continue. 

‘’What happened? Why is it only you and So-ah?’’ 

Jungkook lets your question sink in. He’s uncertain if he wants to talk about it, or rather with you. It has somehow been easier for him to distance himself, push you away as much as he could, but that isn’t enough. 

You’re still here, sitting next to him as you admire the stars while awaiting his answer. 

The silence overflows, the wind curving itself as a comfort blanket around you both as you admire the small lights peaking out in the city. 

Jungkook has always been scared of your curious gaze, yet now, it makes sense for him to tell you everything, let his shield down and give you everything that’s needed for you to understand him completely. 

It’s what is needed for you to stop fighting and stepping on each other for no reason. 

‘’Her name was Seul-ki.’’ You turn, surprised he’s answering your question and you stay quiet, letting Jungkook speak. 

‘’She was always selfish. I should’ve known better.’’ Jungkook trails his finger against the mug, images of Seul-ki flooding his mind. 

He looks up, meeting your eyes and you smile softly at him. The smile brings an unwanted comfort, but it helps Jungkook to go through with answering your question fully, 

‘’So-ah was around one month when Seul-ki got a huge opportunity for her career. She didn’t hesitate to take the chance. But with So-ah, it made it difficult for her to go through with it, so she wanted to give So-ah up for adoption and I just—’’ Jungkook takes a deep breath, slightly beginning to tremble. 

‘’I couldn’t. I couldn’t let her do it.’’ Jungkook’s hand trembles against the mug, keeping his emotions locked in, even though they’re close to breaking out. 

‘’So, she left us.’’ 

‘’That must’ve been really hard for you.’’ You’re trying your best not to hold him for comfort, knowing he isn’t exactly fond of you. But something aches in you when you see the tremble he’s currently carrying and how his voice has turned broken. 

‘’Yeah.’’ He’s in doubt of what to say. But something in him continues, letting his inner thoughts win him over. Every frustration, pain and heartbreaking moments he’s felt since Seul-ki left. 

‘’Sometimes I wonder if I have made the right choice. In the beginning So-ah would cry constantly, she’d be distressed and I couldn’t help because I’m not her mother. Sometimes you just need both of your parents and she— she hasn’t…’’ 

‘’Jungkook.’’ Your warm hand lands on his, catching him off guard. 

‘’You’re an amazing dad. So-ah doesn’t need anyone else. You’re all she needs.’’ Your voice is soothing, melting him softly. He believes every word, trusting you much more than he had anticipated and with the hopeful eyes you’re giving him, he knows he’ll be okay. So-ah and him will be okay, without Seul-ki. 

‘’Thank you.’’ Jungkook smiles, the first genuine smile he’s given you since you moved in. 

You stay in place, letting the silence sink in between you as the cold wind flows. 

The starry night is beautiful, alive even. Sparkling and twinkling above you, reminding you of the beauty behind this earth. As you admire the details, Jungkook looks at you, his heart healing the longer he does and he never wants to let go of this moment. 

Everything becomes easier. You and Jungkook don’t fight anymore, instead you talk and grow closer as time passes. 

You’re still looking for a new apartment, even though the tension has eased down. A plan is a plan. 

Whenever you bring up the apartment search into a conversation between Jungkook and you, his demeanor changes quickly and he immediately shuts himself off. Here you were, thinking he’d be happy that you’re withholding your deal, not irritated. 

Instead of letting it get to you, you continue to hang out with Ash and Lucca. 

“So, Han-bin was a bad idea.” Ash repeats as you’ve told her how the two dates went. 

‘’I already called it the moment you recommended that idea. Like it was the best plan you’ve ever had.’’ Lucca intervenes, crossing their arms. Ash rolls her eyes at her partner, too embarrassed that they might’ve been right. 

‘’But, Ash was right. Han-bin is a sweet guy.’’ You say to hopefully cheer up your friend who’s about to mop in a corner. ‘’We even decided to stay friends.’’ With that, Ash excitedly cheers, and it’s probably because she’s a firm believer in friends to lovers and that it’s the most realistic trope there is out there, meaning she thinks in two three months you’ll finally have a spark with Hanbin. 

‘’How’s the apartment search going?’’ Lucca directs the conversation somewhere else, mostly to cool down Ash who’s probably planning a pinterest wedding board for you and Hanbin in the future. 

‘’It’s going, I think I found a place.’’ 

The supermarket isn’t as crowded as Jungkook anticipated when he came to the conclusion at the last minute that groceries were needed.  

So-ah is clutched tightly onto him, due to the baby sling that Jungkook had mastered the older So-ah got. With her head squished under his chin, Jungkook walks freely, collecting the products at a slow pace. 

‘’Jungkook?’’ His eyes avert to the sound, catching Taehyung waving at him. 

As Taehyung moves closer, Jungkook places down the item to greet him properly. 

‘’Hi So-ah.’’ Jungkook turns so Taehyung can get a better look at her, her eyes turning wide when she sees Taehyung. 

‘’She likes you.’’ Jungkook notices and Taehyung squishes her cheek carefully. 

‘’The feeling is mutual.’’ He cracks a smile. ‘’How’ve you been? Last time I saw you, you and Y/N were about to bite each other’s faces off.’’  The tone indicates he’s joking, although still curious as to how the relationship stands between the two. 

‘’It’s… It’s better.’’ It actually is, and Jungkook’s lips curl into a smile with the memory of your conversation. 

‘’That’s great to hear. She’s been super stressed with finding an apartment.’’ The information throws Jungkook off guard. Are you that desperate to leave? Right after he opened up to you? 

Taehyung quickly catches how Jungkook’s eyes turn downward, his jaw clenching. He’s uncertain if he should point it out, or leave it as it is. 

Thankfully, he gets saved by a call. 

‘’Hey, sorry my brother’s calling me. I’ll see you around?’’ Jungkook nods, and Taehyung softly says goodbye to So-ah before leaving with his phone by the ear. 

The uncomfortable pit never leaves Jungkook’s stomach after his run-in with Taehyung. He knows that there isn’t much time left, and you had made him the promise to leave the moment it hits six months but now? Now Jungkook isn’t so sure if he even wants you to leave. 

The last few weeks are spent on apartment hunting. You’re barely home, too busy being to open houses after work and on the weekends. It’s an easy distraction from your repressed feelings towards Jungkook and it’s exactly what you need. Sooner or later you’ll leave your roommates and start over on your own. 

Jungkook has an urge to tell you how he feels, how angry he is that you’re leaving but you keep missing each other. Whenever he passes by your room, he’s close to doing it but then you’re in a hurry to reach the next open house. 

If he hadn’t felt anything for you, he’d be extremely grateful that you’re doing all of this. You actually kept your promise and made yourself trustworthy. 

But, time is ticking and Jungkook is running out of time. He needs to do something, fast.  

The weekend rolls around, and Jimin comes to pick up So-ah for the night. 

‘’I owe you big time. Thank you.’’ He hands Jimin an overnight bag, with everything he needs to take care of So-ah. 

‘’Don’t mess this up Jungkook.’’ He gives a warning and Jungkook’s palms start to sweat. 

‘’I won’t.’’ Jimin leaves quickly after, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. 

Work runs smoothly for you, Taehyung and you, having fun with the children throughout the day but as soon as the golden sunset comes to view, you’re excited to come home. 

Home. Soon that home will turn into a different place and it makes your heart drop by the thought. You’ll miss Jungkook, with his crazy and annoying remarks. You’ll miss So-ah, her galaxy eyes and her curiosity. 

But nothing lasts forever. 

The apartment feels empty when you walk in. You don’t hear So-ah or Jungkook’s Overwatch that he always forgets to turn off. 

When you move to the living room, Jungkook is sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing at a quick pace. 

‘’Jungkook?’’ His head snaps up. 

‘’Y/N, hi.’’ He gets up, moving closer to you. 

‘’Are you okay?’’ He hasn’t stopped rubbing his palm on his neck, a nervous habit you’ve quickly caught onto while living with Jungkook. 

‘’I’m fine. I need to say something.’’ His voice is stern and you quickly step back, nodding. 

‘’Okay.’’ 

‘’I don’t want you to leave.’’ Your heart stops at his words. 

‘’What? Why?’’ 

Jungkook steps closer, his breathing uneven as he studies your face. ‘’B-because…’’ The nervous stuttering doesn’t stop and Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment. 

‘’Because I–’’ 

Jungkook doesn’t continue his sentence, pulling you closer by the waist before he lets his lips glide above yours. His lips feel soft, and your breath hitches subtly right as he presses them down to yours. 

The kiss is short, Jungkook pulling away just before you have a chance to act upon it yourself. 

‘’That’s why.’’ Jungkook doesn’t let his arm fall from your waist, still holding onto you tight. 

You don’t respond, instead your hand moves upwards, resting it by his cheek. Jungkook gulps by your action, leaning into your hand for more comfort and you smile softly at him. 

‘’I won’t leave.’’ You confirm and Jungkook’s body loosens, melting against yours as he reconnects your lips in yet another kiss. 

You clutch yourself to him, as your lips move in sync, giving each other every comfort needed. 

Neither of you move away, letting the kiss grow heated. When Jungkook slips his tongue past your lips, you’re almost drowning in his touch. He’s careful, teasing you along the way while giving you a taste of himself. You’re just about to pull him further in when he stops, leaning his forehead against yours. 

‘’Do you want to—’’ 

‘’Stop? No.’’ You hover your lips above his, before you whisper. ‘’Please, don’t stop.’’ 

You’ve waited too long for this, and now that you finally have Jungkook you don’t ever want this moment to stop. 

Jungkook’s demeanor changes completely, his softness somehow disappearing and an ache begins to grow between your legs on what’s to come. 

He turns you both around, pushing you down on the sofa. Jungkook continues to kiss you, his hand wandering on your breasts, before it drags further down, grabbing your thigh softly. 

You offer to touch him everywhere, starting by his back. Your hands slip through his t-shirt to roam on the naked skin. It feels delicate against your palm the further you drag it upwards to his nape. 

Jungkook’s breathing changes due to your touch, his lips moving further down, reaching your neck. His tongue traces patterns, letting you feel the wet sensation while your hold on Jungkook tightens. 

It doesn’t exactly click for you that Jungkook is hovering above you, giving you his time with his tongue on your neck. And it only excites you more that it’s finally happening. 

‘’Jungkook.’’ You murmur under your breath, bucking your hips forward in hopes of grazing yourself against his bulge. 

He groans against your neck at your neediness, giving you a small bite which makes you gasp. 

‘’You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this.’’ He says softly, his words trail gently on your skin, and you smile from the confirmation he just gave you. 

When he reaches your waistband, you grab ahold of his cheek. 

‘’What are you doing?’’ It’s not that you don’t want to, of course you do. You haven’t thought about anything else for the past three months of living with Jungkook but you’re nervous. 

‘’Let me make you feel good. Can I?’’ You gulp, nodding nervously, letting him have his way with you. 

Jungkook doesn’t even struggle when he takes off your pants, removing them perfectly and it almost makes you crack up at how ideal it was. 

Your grin is exchanged with a frown of pleasure when Jungkook traces his fingers on the fabric of your thong. He’s making you work for it and frankly, you don’t mind. 

The pad of his fingers press down on your clit, making your breath hitch by the sensation. You feel everything yet nothing and it makes your body buck into his hand. Jungkook smirks by the sudden action, continuing to tease you with his fingers until you’ll plead. 

The touching continues, a few presses once in a while making you hiss. He hasn’t dared to move beneath the fabric and your patience is running on a thin thread. 

Without thinking further, you grab ahold of his wrist. You’re done with his teasing. It’s unfair that he’s here, taking his time with you when you’ve both been longing for this exact moment. 

‘’Jeon Jungkook.’’ He grins at the use of his full name and you want to throw a fit. 

‘’I’ll stop, I promise.’’ He pecks your lips, and considering you trust him, you let go of his wrist. 

Some things truly never change. 

He keeps his word, removing the fabric instead of teasing you further. The cool air hits your core, making you shudder before Jungkook can continue. His palm keeps itself rested on your thigh, while his tattooed hand comes in contact with your slit. 

The first few strokes are slow, collecting some of your arousal and spreading it all over. Jungkook’s mouth is agape, eyes heavy as he watches your exposed heat and his fingers decorating it with slow movements. 

‘’Fuck, baby.’’ Jungkook breathes out, stunned to have you like this. 

The nickname causes your cheeks to heat up, flustered by such. 

No warnings, and Jungkook inserts both fingers slowly, stretching you with ease. The feeling causes you to moan, as you’re too entranced by the pleasure. 

There’s something about the way Jungkook works with his fingers that almost sends you into orbit. The way he gently curls them, making them pet on your g-spot whenever he manages to get his fingers all the way inside. The way his thumb traces circles on your clit, increasing the feelings evoking. 

When you begin to feel overwhelmed, you grab onto Jungkook’s forearm, pressing down. Jungkook is even more determined to make you come, maintaining the same pace. 

You feel the familiar pit in your stomach, forming as time passes. Although, Jungkook has a lot more on his sleeve than just touching you. 

Being too focused on the thrill of the situation, you don’t notice Jungkook crouching down. It’s first when he replaces his thumb with his tongue that you’re aware of the what he’s doing. Your legs are shaking beside him, feeling yourself get much closer and Jungkook wants nothing more than to taste you. 

To his luck, your body shudders followed by a high pitched moan as you finish. Jungkook pecks your clit, before moving upwards to face you. Your breathing is uneven, your whole body warm and you’re smiling softly at him.  

When Jungkook pecks your lips, you take him by surprise, grabbing onto his cock through the material. He groans against your lips, astonished by your bold move. You don’t stop, pumping him while your tongues consume one another. 

Jungkook is already hard. He’s been ever since you laid beneath him, spreading your legs out for him. Even though Jungkook is enjoying your touch, he’s impatient. 

‘’Stay here.’’ Before you can even question anything, Jungkook runs out directly to his room. He quickly returns, with a condom in hand. When he’s about to lay down, you push both of his shoulders, making him land in an upright position. 

You straddle him, wrapping both arms around his neck. ‘’Come on big boy, show me what you got.’’ Maybe you’re saying this because you know Jungkook will absolutely fall into your trap and amaze you. 

‘’I’ll show you.’’ His gaze is intense, yet he’s already fiddling with his pants, desperate to get them off. You aren’t exactly helping, grinding down on the material of his pants, which gets him distracted. 

‘’Y/N, please.’’ You’re suppressing a smile, commanding either way and lifting your hips to help him get his pants off quicker. You aren’t exactly better yourself, wanting nothing more than for Jungkook to fuck you. 

Jungkook is quick on his feet, rolling the condom with ease before gently pressing into you. Your knees sink further down, inviting more of him in and the unfamiliar stretch feels pleasant. When your knees have sunk fully down, you take a moment to adapt. 

‘’Shit.’’ Jungkook moans, mind spinning at how nicely you wrap around him. 

You start bucking your hips, a hiss leaving your mouth as you ride him tenderly. 

‘’Fucking hell,’’ Jungkook curses, his eyes now roaming your body and how smoothly you move above him. He takes the chance of grabbing your ass tightly, making you jerk your hips out of the sudden control Jungkook is regaining. 

His eyes avert downwards, watching how your bodies dissolve and how he disappears inside of you. 

The movement of your hips slow down, your body still processing your orgasm from earlier which had somewhat made you exhausted. 

Jungkook helps you, grabbing onto your hips, leaving you to sit still while he bucks his hips at a much faster pace. Your moans are clogged, too stunned to process the feeling of his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly. 

‘’Fuck—’’ You breathe out, clutching yourself onto Jungkook who isn’t slowing down. He’s surely showing you everything he’s got and you’re already close. 

With no warning, you tense above him, your orgasm washing over you, filling your body with warmth. Jungkook follows soon after, giving one last thrust as he moans against your neck. 

The both of you stay put, trying to regulate your breathing. 

‘’Was that good enough for you?’’ Jungkook asks between pants and you slap him lightly on the shoulder, because he knows it was better than good enough. 

‘’Oh my god! Jungkook hurry!’’ You scream excitedly, still holding onto So-ah who’s standing on two feet, ready to take her first step. 

‘’Don’t let her walk!’’ Jungkook screams from the bathroom, finishing up his shower after his workout from earlier. You roll your eyes, holding tightly onto So-ah who’s trying to move out of your grasp to walk. 

Jungkook runs out quickly not long after, in only a towel because moments like these are rare and there’s no way he’s about to miss out on his daughter walking for the first time. 

‘’Okay, come here So-ah.’’ Jungkook kneels, spreading his arms open for his daughter and she screams softly, wobbling towards her dad but managing two steps in before Jungkook has to sweep her in. 

You clap excitedly at So-ah having taken her first step and you catch Jungkook’s eyes watering. 

‘’So-ah, you did it.’’ Jungkook kisses her on the cheek. 

Moments like these are only the beginning for the three of you, and you’re thrilled. 

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© jjkeverlast 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works]

[miserycanary]

PLEASE PAINT OVER MY BRUISES ᡣ𐭩

synopsis: pairing: early 30s!Ghost & 20s!reader (can be read as platonic)

synopsis: Ghost as your refuge from your abusive father

tags: angst, verbal abuse, physical abuse, hurt/comfort

| The first meeting was a coincidence. 

Shivering from the midnight breeze, you huddled your flimsy sweater close with one hand out to hold your cigarette. One inhale of nicotine got you throwing your head back, forgetting the situation back home that led you to wander the streets at midnight. Busy peering up at the stars in the sky, you didn't notice someone's presence there until you felt your cigarette pulled from your lips and stomped on the ground. 

"Dude! Not cool. That was my last," you angrily mumbled, squatting down to see if you could still use it. "Leave it." The voice took you by surprise, tilting your head up to see a hunk of a man, carrying some beers, looking down on you. You took notice of the calloused hand gripping the paper bag, meaning he was probably a lot older than you. Say early 30s? "Easy for you to say," a retort you throw at him. "I don't have money to buy more—" "then don't buy more," he plainly states, looking at you. Standing up, you finally noticed the mask on his face. With a roll of your eyes, you flip him off, grumbling under your breath, “fucking weirdo”.

| The second time was fate's joke. 

Groaning and yelling, you kick an empty soda can, cursing out your good-for-nothing father. You ran your fingers through your hair, tears slipping on the corner of your eyes as every part of your body ached in pain. Sniffles turn to sobs, muttering about ending it all as everything seemed to never go your way. The oversized shirt barely concealed the bruises, recent and old, making you wince. “Fuck, I hate this shit,” your eyes got hazy, breathing almost cut short. With minimal effort, you sit by the store’s wall to steady yourself. Face buried in your arms, you— once again— don’t notice his presence. 

The first time Ghost met you, he thought you were another rebellious teenager trying to act cool. You didn’t have a job, so he assumed you were a student. When he got home from that first meeting, he could only sigh and hope you’d gone back to your parents. Imagine his surprise when he sees you again, huddling by the store, sobbing. He was not one to manage emotions, so he thought of leaving you alone when a sudden gust of wind caught his attention. Blowing the flimsy fabric on your body, Ghost could see the marks on your body; marks he was too familiar with. Without hesitation, he walked over, pulled you up, and led you to his car. You didn’t even protest. How far gone are you to not even try to fight to live? 

The silence on the way to his house was uncomfortable, with your occasional sniffles which turned to hiccups. His eyes glanced at you from the side. With one hand on the steering wheel, he reaches at the back to grab one bottle of water from his bag and hands it to you. “It’s not drugged,” he tried to joke. “I wouldn’t mind if it was,” you mumbled, silencing Ghost from awkwardness.  At the end of the night, you found refuge. You were offered a place to stay, some food, clothes, and.. peace and safety. You found something rare that you never want to let go of.

| The rest are blessings.

Opening up to Ghost was relatively easy. Was it because you guys shared the same experience? Was it because he was the first to ask? All you know was you had him now. You would always come to his house when you needed to escape, and he never seemed to push. But the day you finally told him was a time you’d love to keep but forget. 

Coming to the place that seemed to be hell on Earth, you were immediately greeted by a chokehold, pressed against the wall. “Fucking brat. What took you so long? Are you out there spreading legs for people, bitch? The apple doesn’t really fall far from the tree. Your bitch mother was also a whore” ‘Ah, it smells like liquor. He’s drunk again’ you thought, eyes drained of life. Next thing you felt was yourself slumping down on the floor with an ache on your face. ‘This motherfucker really punched me’ “If you ever think of following that bitch’s footsteps and leaving me, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Sighing, you pull your legs closer to your chest while your father repeatedly stomps his foot on your legs, then your back. He eventually got tired, leaving after spitting on your face. It took everything in you to force yourself to stand and make your way to your room.

Dread immediately poured in when you noticed every drawer was pulled. “No, no, no, no, no'' you sobbed, rushing to look at the place where you hid your safety money. Feeling nothing, you started to cry, rushing out the door and ignoring the yells from your father. You didn’t know where you were going. Using the only 10 dollars you had left, you took a cab to the only place you know is heaven on Earth.

As soon as the cab pulls up to the familiar house, you storm out of the vehicle. You rush to the door, opening it using a spare key and yelling his name.

“SIMON,” you cried. Footsteps thundered and you see his figure pop up from the kitchen, eyes widening as he takes in your state. It was like all the weight on your shoulders was lifted, your knees buckled. Before you could collapse on the floor, Simon was already by your side.

One arm holding you by your knees and another across your shoulder, he carries to the living room. Sitting down and letting you embrace him from his lap. His warmth calmed you down, your face buried in the crook of his neck. Holding on his shoulders, begging him to keep you safe with tears staining his shirt. He shakes his leg, softly cradling you closer to his chest. “I’m here, I’m here. I won’t let you go, okay?” he mutters, turning your head to him and placing a firm kiss on your forehead. “I will keep you safe. This is the last time you’ll be in pain. I’ll protect you from whatever scares you,” he sighs, wiping away your tears as his other hand rubs soothing circles on your shoulders.

You look at him with a broken smile and profound peace, like he's a savior— a god. For the first time in years, you let yourself succumb to sleep without any worries for your safety. 

Maybe this is indeed heaven. You would love that— to be in Simon's safe embrace forever, away from the horrors of the world.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: my first ask by anonymous. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

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