#more ship content oops | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojo-mochi · 10 months

Text

One Piece Men + Where they like to kiss you:

Content Warnings: Fluff + Little Suggestive + Slight Angst on Sanji’s Part

Pairings: Monster Trio + Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

❥ Luffy: Everywhere I swear… Any opening he can find, he will kiss you there. Wearing something off the shoulder? Bam! Shoulder kisses! Wearing shorts? Oop-! You’re getting thigh kisses now, even if you’re both out in public. Your face gets 80% of the kisses that Luffy gives, usually in quick succession. Sometimes he will Gomu-Gomu his way to you, arms tightly wrapped around your waist, yelling your name, as he crashes his lips onto your face, like literally crashes.

Clank Thunk. Clank Thunk. … ClankClankClank That was the sound of Luffy’s sandal hitting the wooden boards of The Thousand Sunny, as he ran around the desk of the ship looking for something fun to do. (Or someone to bother). Unfortunately for him, Usopp was below deck with Franky working on a new project, Chopper and Brook were in the Medical Ward checking on supplies, Sanji already kicked him out of the kitchen twice now, and Zoro was sleeping somewhere…

Jinbei and Robin were reading some boring books or whatever, and Nami is scary when she’s mad, so Luffy didn’t bother her much. So there left you… all alone and clueless as you were enjoying sunbathing out in this weather in your new bikini. Shades on and frizzy drink in hand. Not a care in the world at the moment. Until you start hearing… Clank.. Thud … ClankClankClank

“Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!”

Luffy called out your name as he ran, stretched his arms on to your lounge chair, and slammed himself on to you. Your shades flew off into the sunset, and your drink poured the rest of its content onto you and Luffy as it fell from your hand.

“Lu!” You scolded your captain, who only gave a sheepish grin in return. “ShiShiShi, Sorry bout that.” He doesn’t seem that sorry about it, but how could you stay mad at him when he gives that signature sunlight smile? You sigh and start to get up to clean off the sticky residue that your drink left on the front of your chest.

“Wait-Nooooooooooo, Don’t goooooooooo, it’s boring out here, play with me, pleaseeee!” Luffy whined out, throwing his lips out into a pout at the end of his pleas. To make matters worse, he began to wrap his arms around your waist, multiple times, to ensure that you would stay and relieve his boredom. The soda had also splashed on his arms, so it was making you even stickier than before. You heave out another sigh, still getting up, this time dragging along your whiny Captain with you.

“I need to go get clean, Lu, I’m not staying out in the hot sun with this (You gesture at the soaked bikini) all over me. You can join me if you like, though.” You huffed out.

Luffy grinned, happy to do something that wasn’t just running around the ship bored. Still with arms wrapped around your waist, he started to kiss you on any open, bare skin. And with only a bikini on, there were a lot of places he could choose from. Your belly button? Smooch! Your collar bones! PeckPeckPeck. Your hands that were now trying to push him off? Kiss, Kiss, and a Lick.

“ShiShiShi, you taste good, Y/N.” Luffy smacked his lips as he tried to go for another lick off of your fingers. You grab his face as your own starts to heat up, “That’s cause of the drink that you spilled all over me.” You hissed at him, walking faster to get to the showers, you can have some privacy. Luffy just stares at you for a moment before leaning out of your grasp to kiss your lips this time.

“Nah, I think you taste good all the time!”

❥ Zoro: The top of your head. Zoro isn’t the openly affectionate type, preferring to show his love in more subtle ways and behind closed doors. It took a while for the two of you to start holding hands in public! Nami got a good laugh out of how red Zoro’s face was that day. That is why he finds it easiest to just go for a brisk kiss on the top of your head if you are out in public or near anyone. He can just lean down, plant a kiss, and stand back up straight without most people noticing a thing. Though, He still prefers to kiss you in private…

“One hundred and one, one hundred and two, one hundred and three….” You counted out lazily from your place on top of Zoro’s back. You wanted to spend time with him, but he was still in the middle of working out, so you compromised by including yourself as part of his workout. It was boring, to say the least. After the first hour of just ogling your boyfriend’s pecs and muscles, you thought he was done already, but here he is still on another set.

You began to trace the outline of Zoro’s back, up and down his shoulders, across his neck, down to the middle of his spine, and back up again. He was sweaty, but you didn’t mind it much. Fingers drumming along his tan skin, outlining old battle scars that have yet to fade. Unbeknownst to you, Zoro was slowing just a tiny bit due to your touches, his cheeks turning pink in color. His arms wobbled just a little when he felt you get off his back, he already misses your presence and your touch…

You yawned out loud, stretching out your limbs. You turn to your boyfriend with a sleepy gaze and say, "I'm going to go to sleep ‘ere alright?” You walked over to a corner of the room without waiting for a response and plopped down. Leaning your head back against the wall and letting the slow rocking of the Sunny lull you to a peaceful slumber Zoro’s gaze never once left you, when your warmth left his back. He still had more sets to go, but seeing your sleeping form, he decided, maybe it was time for a small break…

After wiping off all the sweat from his body, Zoro walked over to your corner. He settled down next to you, just watching the soft rise of your chest, the way your head tilts a bit when the Sunny hits a small wave, how you part your lips open so invitingly…

Still… no matter how inviting, he hates to wake you up if he tries something. Instead, he just leans in closer, arms snaking around your shoulder, letting your head fall softly onto him. He spends a good while just sitting there, listening to the creaks of the Sunny and the noises of his crewmates down below. Once he felt his eye starting to droop, his free hand went up to lightly caress your cheek. He stares for a moment, then just as softly kisses the top of your head. Smelling your shampoo, feeling how soft your hair was, and just enjoying your presence. Once done, he nestled his cheek against your hair, pulling you in even closer as he let his tiredness wash over him.

“…I love you, Y/N.”

❥ Sanji: The back of your hand at first. When he was first courting (simping) you, Sanji would pull out all the stops to try to impress you. By being the best Gentleman he can be; opening doors, pulling out your chair, , helping carry shopping bags, and the works. Alright, alright, he already does this for Nami and Robin and practically every girl he comes across, but he’s serious this time! When you finally started to flirt back, he was over the moon about it, Still wanting to keep up with his Gentlemanly act, he would take your hand and kiss the back of it, every time you went on a date or an outing. Sanji would keep the kisses simple, one on the cheek if you allowed it and most on the back of your hand, as he bows so deeply when meeting with you.

Once you got more comfortable in the relationship, you told Sanji that he didn’t need to keep this act up or keep holding himself back from you. You could obviously tell that Sanji wanted to do more than just simple kisses, but his fears didn’t allow him to push further lest you abandon him too… Now that you’ve reassured him that wasn’t the case, he found a new favorite place to kiss you…

You were both cuddling together in the lounge of the Aquarium. Legs tangled together, pressed right up against Sanji’s Chest, arms squeezing your waist and rubbing your back. You sigh contently, nuzzling up to Sanji, purring when his fingers came up to ruffle your hair, his nails tenderly scratching the base of your scalp. It took you a lot of time and puppy dog eyes to finally convince Sanji to take a break for a day and let someone else do the cooking for once. Franky even offered to host a barbeque in his stead!

However, Sanji insisted on at least helping marinate the meat for the barbeque before he could take a break. You practically had to drag him down to the lounge after he saw Usopp and Luffy messing with the grill. But now that you’re both here, in each other’s arms, the light of the aquarium basking over you, it’s peaceful and quiet. Something you know Sanji definitely needed. While you love your boyfriend for being so chivalrous and helpful, you could tell it takes its toll on him sometimes. He always does something for someone, never takes a break, never dies anything for himself. You were worried that maybe he didn’t know how to treat himself properly.

Now that you were here, though, you were going to treat him right and make sure that he knew what he meant to the crew and to you most of all. “Y/N… thank you for this..” Sanji murmured, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You giggled when his facial hair tickled you but didn’t move away. Squeezing your arms around him tighter, you say “Of course, my love, anytime you want a break, you come find me, ok?”

Sanji didn’t respond with words but instead gave you faint kisses on your shoulder blades and neck. Trailing up to your ear and back down again. It made you vibrate with desire, but Sanji just held you close and did not advance any further than kissing. To be honest, this was his favorite place to kiss you, at the small junction between your neck and your shoulder. The first time he kissed there, your knees immediately went weak, and you shivered in his hold. He enjoyed having this type of power over you in the sense that he could be the one that made you heat up so much.

It showed him that you desired him, maybe just as much as he desired you. Now wasn’t the time for anything more than just kisses, though; he wanted to stay here, with you in his arms. Just feeling you close and knowing that you loved him was more than enough.

“….Thank you for loving me…”

#₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece x you #zoro x reader #zoro x you #luffy x you #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #one piece #comments are appreciated

1K notes · View notes

s1m0nth3swag · 1 month

Text

Francis Mosses Headcannons <3

AUTHORS NOTE; Your honor I love him. Just some silly Headcannons because the brainrot is too real (also my last post about him did really well and I was shocked about it oops)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; SFW and NSFW Headcannons, no shipping headcannons, some relationship headcannons but mostly just general things about Francis (NSFW is really big on relationship headcannons tho), MY headcannons for him, not particularly fitting into the time of That's not my neighbor but I couldn't be bothered

SFW;

Ever since starting his job as Milkman, he has started to somewhat dislike milk. Rarely ever has any at home unless he needs it to cook or bake something.

REALLY good at cooking/ baking, he lives alone so obviously he has to take care of it himself and he dislikes ordering food since he'll have to talk to someone so he just taught himself to cook/ bake.

I feel like he has some hobbies but rarely ever has the time to work on them, I feel like he's into miniature or something like that. Definitely likes hobbies that include being calm and concentrated over others.

Almost never lets anyone into his home, only if it's his partner or a very close friend (or family).

Contrary to popular belief, Francis has quite a few friends - mostly because they share his hobbies (I feel like he's the type to yap about his hobbies if someone is interested in them).

He doesn't particularly like his job, but also doesn't hate it. I think he liked it at the beginning, but now it's just tiring and boring (like honestly, being a milkman doesn't sound really thrilling, can't blame him for being tired of it).

Francis most definetly has at some point bought a plushie with the thought of gifting it to someone but ended up liking it so much that he kept it (when having someone over he definitely hides it in a corner of his bedroom to not get embarrassed).

He's the type to rarely listen to music, because when he comes home from work he's too tired and probably just passes out on his bed and on his free days he likes to just do his things in silence since it's more calming to him than listening to music while doing them.

When he does listen to music, he prefers calmer tones, maybe even music without any lyrics (or soft spoken ones).

He definetly falls asleep on the couch while watching TV. The type to pass out the second he put on some random show. Try waking him up, you won't be able to. Give him his two hour power nap.

NSFW;

BIIIIG Whiner and whimperer. Even when jerking off or the likes, he's super vocal about it. I think he's not the type to jerk off often, when he does it's because he has too much pressure built up. He's 100% loud about it though. Full on groaning and moaning if his partner were to jerk or suck him off.

He's big on praising. Always tells you you're doing good and that you're so wonderful etc.

I think he doesn't have a particularly high sex drive, but when he does get frisky (by himself or with his partner) I think he can go for multiple rounds with little to no rest. He makes up for the lack of sex drive with the amount of rounds he can go 100%.

Isn't really shy in bed unless it's a more dom/sub relationship with him being sub. I think if you told him he came too fast or that he wasn't being good for you he'd be so so embarrassed and apologise for HOURS unless you shut him up.

Loves marking. Give him hickeys, bitemarks, anything, he'll love it. Especially if you get that little spot on his neck that is just barely hid by his work uniform.

All for now because I need to keep some for the next posts :)

#francis mosses #francis mosses x you #headcanon #thats not my neighbor #thats not my neighbor headcanons #francis mosses headcanons #milkman that's not my neighbor

390 notes · View notes

matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

Note

Okay okay, hear me out! Vox POV of the "Get Off My Screen" series with Velvette or Valentino finding out about collage reader.

How would that go? Would Vox even tell us that they know? What would those two think of Vox hiding this from them? "You mean to tell me, you accidentally found a way to commune with the world of the living MONTHS AGO, AND DIDN'T TELL US?!" - Val or Vel (not shipping reader with those two tho, just Val and Vel finding out about Vox's crush on a human (Valentino being pissy about it))

Oops, Guess I Spilled The Tea

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Wowowowow I have so many filler episodes now ahdosndkaks the direct continuation is actually finished and I'll probably post it right after I finish the interludes. Even if I'm working on the finale, if you guys come up with any ideas or suggestions still feel free to drop them in and I'll write out the scenario! Whether it's before Reader's death or after, go on and drop the idea in my inbox! After all, what's a good story without the fun content? As always, happy reading and I hope you all enjoy this installment!

A/N: While I initially wanted this to be more comedic and lighthearted, I don't think Vox would be taking it that way by the time this confrontation happens. He and dear Reader have been chatting together for a little over a year and a half by now, so while he has loyalties to the Vees- he's probably a protective mess all the more since he'd been slowly catching feelings too.

Waking up that day, Vox grunted when he realized it was his phone buzzing to life that roused him.

Ughh... wasn't his daily alarm for a few more minutes?

Sitting up and stretching, he sleepily grabbed his phone to check who'd want to bother him so early in the day.

Only to end up with a dopey smile on his face when he realized it was just you.

Somehow, you'd actually risen earlier than him this time.

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey you workaholic picturebox!"

That was rare, he knew you were the type to have a million alarms because the first one wouldn't be enough to get your butt out of bed.

Well, he probably wouldn't want to get up either if it was waking up to you.

Wait-

What?

What the fuck.

Vox shook his head, woah... okay- maybe he wasn't quite awake yet.

"Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine, what's got you so cheery this hellish morning?"

He replied back with a waving emoji of himself, taking his phone with him as he left his bedroom to go and make a cup of coffee.

Unlike you, who for whatever reason he couldn't understand-

Preferred tea.

He chuckled remembering how that conversation went.

"Ehhh??? You like drinking your coffee black? Remind me never to share a morning drink with you."

"Oh really, what's your drink of choice then? Can't be much better."

"I like drinking tea thank you very much, it's healthier too from what I've heard."

"Ewww, leaf water."

"Ewww, bean juice."

A fond smile unconsciously wormed onto his screen as he turned on the coffee machine.

"Bean juice... that's so fucking stupid."

Though as quickly as his smile appeared, Vox replaced it with a poker face when his acquaintances came into the room.

Velvette was expectedly on her phone and Valentino was just dragging himself to the breakfast table.

His good mood would've just shattered had his phone not buzzed again and taken his attention.

You sent him a selfie of you on the way to university, the morning sun lighting up your face and your surroundings.

Not to mention the genuinely cheerful expression you wore.

Vox didn't really remember much about the mornings from when he was alive.

After all, it was a long time ago.

But this... seeing your picture-

That made the overlord think he'd crutially missed something when he was alive.

His fans whirred louder as he stared at your picture-

Were you always that pretty?

Though he was quick to click off it when the coffee machine beeped loudly, reminding him it was done.

"It's amazing outside! Seriously dude, if you weren't all dead and everything you'd probably enjoy the weather today."

He slowly sipped his coffee while typing back a reply with his free hand.

"Maybe? I'm not really a morning person, you know I get up just because I have to."

"Well who knows, it's not like we can find out now anyway. Anyhowww, I hope your day goes well! I know it rarely does with Valentino's tantrums and Alastor screwing up your stuff but still!"

"Forever the optimist huh?"

"Nah, I just think today would go great for both of us. Call it a hunch."

Vox just rolled his eyes before putting the phone down.

He was thankful he'd been drinking coffee, otherwise there was no way he could conceal the grin that threatened to break out on his face.

Though, what he hadn't expected were the other two Vees to be staring at him like he'd grown three heads.

He glanced between them and suspiciously raised an eyebrow.

What was going on in their minds?

"Vox, who the hell were you on the phone with?"

Velvette spoke first, crossing her arms and staring at the overlord in question with narrowed eyes.

Did she wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?

Vox didn't bother answering her question, just continuing to drink his coffee.

"Oh come on Voxy~ you haven't been spending much time with me either~"

Next came Valentino's whining, stretching along of his hands to sensually stroke his colleague's arm.

To which Vox just pulled away from the moth's grasp and made an odd expression.

The other two Vees knew what that was.

Disgust and annoyance.

It's never happened before to Vox's knowledge-

It's never happened that Valentino's hands on him just felt so... wrong.

Especially when the pimp overlord used to warm his bed or even take him for a rough night to forget the day's stresses and problems.

Nights that Vox had completely forgotten over the course of time he'd been chatting with you.

Nights that became less and less of an occurrence when your friendship blossomed.

All to the point they'd stopped entirely.

It was a subconscious decision, a bad habit he didn't notice that changed until today.

Of course- his reaction didn't sit well with the moth.

"You fucking asshole! Who the hell is it Vox?! Have you been fucking another whore behind my back?!"

Vox felt his blood boil, he didn't know even know why-

Why he felt so... angry for you.

Angry that Valentino thought you were just another fling.

Angry that you'd been disrespected and called a "whore".

He let out a frustrated sigh and put his coffee mug down.

So much for having a pleasant morning like you'd hoped for him.

"I don't owe either of you an explanation. I don't need to justify why I've been doing the things I have nor do I need to always tell you guys what I'm doing."

Vox glared at both his colleagues, the words ended up spilling from his mouth before he could stop them.

He didn't know why he suddenly felt protective of you, even when he knew neither Valentino or Velvette could capitalize on your peculiar situation without his help anyway.

Not that they'd want to.

You weren't anything special to them.

Not a person of power, influence or even wealth.

You were just you.

A person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Or well, by conventional standards.

You always told Vox you didn't think so, sometimes even going as far to call his company a blessing in disguise.

Ha, as if.

"It's nothing big anyways, you're just making a fuss."

Valentino slammed his fist on the table when Vox brushed him off.

Did he fucking think he was better than them or something?!

Tensions rose high in the room, until the familiar sound of a phone buzzing caught the attention of all three.

It wasn't Velvette.

It wasn't Valentino either.

Which only left Vox.

The technology overlord sprung up from his chair to grab the device which was just nonchalantly resting on the table.

But he wasn't quite fast enough.

Velvette swiped the device before he could grab it and unlocked the device.

Of course she'd know all the passwords, who do you think managed all the Vees social media accounts?

Though, what she saw nearly made her drop the phone.

"You've been talking to a LIVING person this entire time and you hadn't told us?! How long has this been going on for Vox?!"

Velvette screeched, causing the overlord in question to cringe from her tone.

Blegh... she was like a haughty child.

Valentino's reaction wasn't any better, ripping the phone out of Vel's hands and just continuing to yell at Vox.

At this point, he'd just turned his hearing sensitivity all the way down.

At any rate, his day was pretty much ruined already thanks to them sticking their noses in his business.

"'Professor's being a bitch again, how's your day been going?' Vox who the fuck is this?!"

"Just someone who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, nothing special."

"Uh huh, you wouldn't be so protective if they weren't special to you."

Valentino was about to type out an angry reply to you before the phone in his hand erupted into sparks and frayed wires.

Vox didn't want to resort to it, but he could always just get a replacement phone.

Better than you possibly getting the wrong idea.

Even if he had to explain later on that his colleagues were not really happy that he'd hid this situation from them.

"We will continue this conversation later, I have a broadcast in ten minutes and I cannot be fucking late."

With that, he'd left both Velvette and Valentino irritated and angry with him beyond belief.

Stepping back into his bedroom, Vox leaned back against the closed door with a sigh.

Just a year ago and he would have thought nothing of your situation.

He wouldn't have cared if his colleagues found out-

Hell, he would've probably encouraged them to bother and annoy you.

If they even took advantage, he wouldn't have batted an eye.

But now...

Vox rubbed a clawed hand over his screen.

What in Lucifer's name was fucking wrong with him?

A/N: 👀 Voxy is just confused and stressed, the story can't all be sunshine and rainbows but this isn't exactly angst? All this drama while our dear (Y/N) is just going about her day HAHAHAHAHA- So here have some tension on a plate while I go back to making more lighthearted stuff :)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

389 notes · View notes

turtletaubwrites · 6 months

Text

My Needy Girl ~ Part 4

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,707

This is part 4 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: You’re starting to question how safe your arrangement with your crewmate is. Zoro really wants to be the world’s greatest ‘swordsman.’ Someone on the crew might have heard you last night. Zoro might be taking it badly.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Mildly Dubious Consent, Reader-Insert, Smut, Flirting, Accidental Exhibitionism, Mention of Masturbation, Rough Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cock Warming, Dom Zoro, Swearing, lil angst, Casual Sex, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Hair-Pulling, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Condoms, Shameless Smut, Friends with Benefits, Crewmates with Benefits, Relationship Discussions, Zoro's a straight to the point kinda guy, and we love that, but now he needs to figure out what he wants

A/N: Oops, I accidentally wrote way too much again. Some character stuff, more crew interactions, lil angst?, and some build up to future installments. But there is smut at the end, I swear! I hope you enjoy, I'm excited for what's up next! 😊⚔

Somehow you’d managed to stay awake while Zoro slept easily, resting his head on your lap. You would have left on your own, but you couldn’t leave without waking the sleepy swordsman. He carried you, and he would brook no arguments.

All that time sitting there had driven you a bit crazy. Your body was still sore from the mind blowing abuse, the orgasms he’d ripped from you. But your mind was still reeling from your brief discussion of boundaries, followed immediately by the most possessive sex you’d ever had.

That’s just sex. He told you he wanted to stay casual, you agreed you could see other people.

Not that you wanted to. He was right. You couldn’t imagine going to anyone else when he’d be here, waiting to tear you apart like that again.

This is dangerous.

What if I fall for him? What if he actually is that possessive, and it causes problems? What if I get hurt? What if I have to leave the crew because we can’t keep our shit together?

These fears had kept dancing in your mind, taking turns with your shivering memories of his rough hands on your skin.

You didn’t want to have these worries. You wanted to trust that he was honest with you and himself, and that you both could keep this strictly casual.

You wanted to keep space between you.

How can I be sure he can keep his own distance? Keep that possessive nature just during sex?

You’d managed to fall asleep at some point, til Nami stuck her head into your room.

“Come on, sleepy head. You’ve gotta get breakfast before Luffy eats everything.”

Groaning, you looked in the mirror. Surprisingly, you only looked half dead. You did what you could quickly, then traipsed to the galley.

Sitting yourself on the end of the table next to Luffy, you gratefully poured coffee into the mug that was waiting for you. Luffy scooted over to give you room before leaning over the table, and speaking with his mouth full.

“Hey Zoro, have you been exercising in your room lately? You’ve been extra noisy.”

Nami narrowed her eyes at Zoro while you took a sip of your coffee, pretending you hadn’t heard Luffy’s hilarious question.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve uh, been working on some extra core strengthening exercises lately.”

Usopp chimed in after chugging some tangerine juice.

“Mind not doing them in the middle of the night, green guy? Some of us can’t nap seven times a day like you do.”

You joined the group in laughing, and kept your eyes away from Zoro’s.

Sanji appeared next to you, setting a plate down, the delicious scent making you sigh as your eyes fluttered closed. Having Sanji as the ship’s cook made you feel spoiled.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I made some cinnamon syrup for your pancakes, I know how much you enjoy it.”

“Oh, um, thank you Sanji.”

His smile deepened, and you looked away from his bright eyes.

Then the whole group went quiet as Sanji sat at the table next to you.

Normally, Sanji didn’t eat until the rest of the crew was finished. He’d never sat beside you during a meal that he'd cooked before.

He reached across you to grab the coffee pot. The whole length of his thigh pressed against yours while he poured himself a drink.

“Can I have some cinnamon syrup, Sanji?

“You already ate 12 pancakes Luffy. I’ll make you cinnamon syrup tomorrow.”

You looked down at your tantalizing breakfast, body tingling from the heat of Sanji's firm leg still pressed against yours. You risked glancing up at Zoro, but he was too busy scowling at Sanji to notice.

You spent the day cataloging the seeds and dried herbs on the ship. There were a few that you’d had to argue with Sanji about, agreeing to split whatever you found for kitchen use.

Thoughts of the cook this morning made your cheeks flush, and you shook your head. Sanji’s just being Sanji.

You avoided the kitchen for lunch, enjoying a few snacks and tangerines on deck with Nami.

“Do the boys seem extra obnoxious lately, or is it just me?”

Your eyes widened at Nami’s words. You wanted to tell her everything, but didn’t want to risk her judgement.

“It’s hard to tell, aren’t they always?”

“I guess.”

Nami picked at her nails before eyeing you again.

“Find any cool plants on the last island?”

Feeling a soft smile hit your lips, you leaned toward her, and shook your head.

“Nope, just picked up some rosemary and chamomile. We’re always running out.”

“Ohh, did you make more of that rosemary hair stuff?”

Chuckling, you nodded.

“I have enough, I’ll make you some tomorrow. Chopper uses it too.”

“I can tell! He’s like a walking air freshener when he washes all that fur.”

Still giggling with Nami, your laugh got cut short when Zoro came out on deck with rage in his eyes.

“Someone didn’t get their beauty sleep.”

Nami had given a stage whisper, and Zoro scowled at her before starting his training routine.

You had to go inside, otherwise you would have been drooling on deck while you watched him.

Your work always had you bouncing between studying with Chopper, and making salves and tinctures in the kitchen. You chose Chopper today.

“Hi Chopper!”

“Oh, hi, Y/N! What are you working on today?”

“I was going to ask you. Are we stocked up on salves?” I’ve got more aloe for burns if we need it.”

“We’re all set! I’m so glad we have you on board, it really helps me focus on learning more with you helping me make such good supplies!”

You grinned at Chopper, his cute, sweet face had been planted into medical books when you interrupted.

You decided against spending the rest of the day in the kitchen. They can wait on their rosemary oil for another day.

By the time dinner came around, you were feeling more yourself. Until you walked in and saw both Zoro and Sanji look at you. Rushing to your seat, you knocked over your glass while reaching for the carafe of water. Luckily Robin’s many hands caught it. You thanked her, but she just tilted her head at you inquisitively.

There’s no way we can keep this secret for long.

You fought again not to glance at Zoro, afraid that one look would make everyone see what you’d been doing together.

Sanji appeared next to you again, and you startled.

“Apologies, beautiful. I was just checking that what you have is enough to satisfy you. If not, I’m sure I can provide something more to your liking.”

It sounded like normal Sanji banter, but your pulse raced when you met his eyes. They’d dilated a bit, making them dark, and you realized you hadn’t responded.

Sanji winked at you, and now you were sure he seemed a little more forward than even he normally was. Nami interrupted, saving you from your stunned silence.

“Ew, gross, Sanji. Quit making Y/N uncomfortable, and go bring us dessert”

Sanji kept his smirking eyes on yours for another moment before bowing, and excusing himself to the pantry.

You flicked your eyes toward Zoro, and caught him staring after Sanji like he was about to pull out his swords in the kitchen.

You made a face at your tea, and Luffy poked you with a stretched finger on the forehead.

“You okay, Y/N? Your face has been red a lot lately. Do you have a fever?”

You held in a laugh as Usopp scooched away from your potential illness, while Robin sent hands across the table to touch your forehead.

“Y/N’s fine, you boys just need to stop bothering her. Nami, why don’t you raise their interest if they don’t?”

You laughed at their outrage while Nami grinned at you.

Glancing at Zoro, you saw that his jaw was still clenched as he watched for Sanji’s return.

As the group stretched, some yawning and heading to bed, Sanji cleared his throat behind you.

“Y/N, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind helping me. I’d like to stock up on some infused oils so I don’t have to make them daily. Would you give me the honor of assisting me?”

You felt Robins calculating eyes, and Zoro’s penetrating gaze, but couldn’t think of a reason why you shouldn’t help out.

Sanji beamed when you agreed, and you busied yourself grabbing the tools, avoiding everyone’s eye contact as they left.

Zoro seemed to be acting possessive, but you couldn’t tell if it was just his general dislike of the cook, or if he would be this possessive around anyone you get close to. Or if he would want more from you.

You didn’t like the thought of testing it out.

I need to stop this now if he can’t handle being casual. I can’t risk that.

Sanji’s warm presence beside you was so calming. You worked together, talking softly, laughing at jokes, and grinning at his praise. He’d always been too much, and the way he hits on every woman in sight made your eyes roll. But he really is good company.

Finishing up, you carefully labeled each bottle with the date and ingredients while he started on the clean up. You joined him at the counter to dry the dishes, shivering when his fingers would touch yours for too long.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Can I make you some tea?”

You returned to the table, watching him work after you agreed.

Sanji sat across from you, and the air seemed hot, not just from the steam of the tea.

“Y/N, I need to be honest with you.”

“About what, Sanji?”

He pulled back, looking ashamed.

“I, um. I heard your conversation here last night.”

Your mouth fell open as you remembered. Trying to get Zoro to talk about boundaries. Zoro rubbing your hand along his cock before dragging you out of your seat to go fuck in his quarters.

“Wh-Why did you listen?”

You felt very still, not sure what emotion to feel.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was coming back to prep for the morning meal. I should have interrupted or left. But I heard, and I had to make sure you were okay. I didn’t like the way he spoke to you.”

You watched the muscles in Sanji’s jaw clench.

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

Sanji’s eyes went wide, leaning forward.

“I would never, Y/N! But I will kill him if he hurts you.”

You stared, realizing that he was completely serious.

“Thank you, he’s not hurting me, Sanji. We just have an arrangement.”

Sanji scoffed, and you raised your brows.

“I’m sure that Mosshead is perfectly happy with his arrangement. Happy to take and take.”

Sanji set his hand on the table next to yours, a few fingers trailing along the edges of yours. Chills ran up your body as you looked back into his darkened eyes.

“You deserve someone who will give and give to you. Someone who values your pleasure more than their own.”

“How would you- You listened to that too, didn’t you?”

He pulled his hand back, and ran it through his hair. He sat back from you, lighting a cigarette. I’m actually starting to enjoy that smell. Fuck.

“I know, it was wrong. But he was so rough with you in the kitchen. I was worried he would hurt you too much.”

Your breathing got heavy at the thought of Sanji listening in while Zoro fucked you into oblivion. Of him listening to your muffled moans and screams, hearing you beg for Zoro’s cock.

You met Sanji’s eyes again, feeling heat pooling between your legs. His eyes were trained on your parted lips, your breathing hot. Your brain seemed to shut off as other parts of you took the wheel.

“Did you touch yourself while you listened to me?”

“N-No, Y/N, I...”

His eyes looked panicked, and you watched his tongue push forward slightly to wet his lips.

“Please don’t lie.”

Your words came out strained, and Sanji glanced at your breasts as they heaved with your breathing.

“I-I’m sorry. It was so wrong. I just… the sounds you made…”

Your eyes flew back in your head, a small moan escaped your lips. You felt the table shift, as if Sanji had thrust toward you at your sound.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth hanging open, but he pulled himself together.

“Let me show you, beautiful. Let me give you what you need. Let me take care of you.”

Sanji’s pleading made your skin hot, and you felt wetness seeping through your clothes at the thought of him taking you right now on the kitchen table.

But you managed to keep your head enough, trying to keep a fucking handle on something.

“I-I can’t. Not yet.”

Sanji stared, waiting. The word ‘yet’ seemed to hook him.

“I made an arrangement. I have to make sure that’s okay first. Then we can talk.”

You traced one finger along his hand, pulling it away before you pulled him toward you.

Sanji looked like part of him wanted to be angry when you mentioned the arrangement, but the rest of him seemed to be practically drooling.

I wonder if he’ll listen in again.

That thought sent you shivering as you went to find the swordsman.

You didn’t have to go far.

Zoro was waiting for you in the hall. Your breath felt trapped in your throat at his expression. He nodded toward his quarters and you started moving, his body radiating heat behind you.

When you made it inside, he closed the door quietly, then shoved you against the wall.

“Zoro, I- Zoro!”

You cried out as Zoro shoved his hand down the front of your pants, fingers slipping into your folds from how wet Sanji’s confession had made you.

Zoro pulled his fingers from you, and you slumped against the wall as he shoved them into his mouth.

“Zoro…”

“It’s all good, Needy. Go fuck the cook if you want to. I know he won’t be enough for your tasty, needy little cunt.”

You moaned, but tried to pull yourself together. Your voice came out high and breathy.

“I don’t want what we’re doing together to cause issues. Tell me if you’re not okay with this.”

“I’m okay, Needy. You can fuck everyone on the ship if you want. I know who you’ll be begging for.”

You moaned again as Zoro started trailing his hand down your stomach, crawling back down to your center.

“But Zoro, why? Why are you claiming me? We shouldn’t be doing this if it’s already causing prob- unf…”

Zoro had shoved two fingers inside of you, and was curling them right against that needy spot.

“You want me to stop, Y/N? You want me to stop giving you what you need?”

His fingers went faster, and you were panting, hanging onto the wall.

“Tell me you want me to stop making you feel good.”

You moaned, your body so close to the brink already.

“Well, what do you need me to do?”

“D-Don’t stop, Zoro, pleease.”

Your desperate whine made him groan, thrusting against your thigh while his fingers kept going.

With his free hand he dug through his pocket, and shoved a condom at you, before pulling himself out of his pants.

“Put this on my dick now, before I take you without it.”

He groaned again at the feeling of your pussy clenching his fingers at that threat.

“You’d fucking like that wouldn’t you?”

You scrambled to open the wrapper, crying out as you touched him, smoothing the condom down his length.

Gasping as Zoro withdrew his fingers from you, you whined pathetically, begging for him.

“There she is. My Needy girl. Come here.”

Zoro tore your pants off, then sat with you straddling him on his chair.

He made you lift up, gasping as you hovered over him. Smirking, he pulled your panties aside, and forced you to slam onto his swollen cock.

You felt tears stinging your eyes as you fought your scream.

“So good at staying quiet, huh, Y/N. Just a hungry little kitten, crying for some attention.”

You were lost, the feeling of his long cock hilted within you, but not moving, was making you feel feral. You tried to move your hips, to fuck him, but Zoro laughed and held your hips in place.

“Nuh uh. You’ve gotta earn it now. Just sit still, and keep my cock warm, Needy.”

You slumped against his shoulder, twitching with every slight movement. He was so long and it almost hurt, but you knew if he just moved a little it would take you there. You continued struggling for friction, but he just gripped you in place and chuckled at your distress.

“Wh-What do you want Zo-Zoro?”

Digging your nails into his arms to stay steady, you watched his smug face.

“I just want you to remember how it feels to have my cock inside you. I want you to think about it, all day everyday.”

You couldn’t help your whimpers as he leaned forward to breathe the next words along your neck.

“I want you to crave my cock, even when he’s fucking you. I want you to remember that no one can fuck you like I can. The cook will just warm you up for me.”

He laughed then, and bit your ear.

“Maybe I should thank him. He’ll get you ready for me. All warmed up, your hungry cunt dripping wet, so I can fuck you even harder than I have been. How does that sound, Needy?”

Zoro had thrust up into you to emphasize your nickname, and you were a desperate mess.

All you could do was drag your drooling lips along his neck and shoulder, scratching uselessly at his arms while you begged, practically sobbing.

“Please, Zoro. Yes please, fuck. I need you, pleeease.”

His hand gripped into your hair, and you stopped breathing as he stared down at you.

“That’s right, Y/N. I’m the one who can give you what you need.”

If you’d known how to respond, you couldn’t. Zoro used the fingers in your hair, and the hand at your waist as leverage to start shoving you onto his cock, over and over. You came so quickly, and he growled, invading your mouth with his tongue. Tears kept streaming down your face as he kept thrusting up into you through your orgasm. His rough hands and mouth kept you trapped on his cock, his tongue muffling your screams.

He pulled away from your lips, leaving you gasping.

“Tell me you need my cock, baby.”

You moaned for him, your body almost taking you there again for him.

“Finger yourself, and tell me how much you need my fucking dick.”

The demand in his words made your eyes roll back. You reached for your clit, slippery with your overwhelming pleasure.

“I love your cock Zoro. I-I need to feel your cock in me everyday, it’s so fucking good!”

Zoro groaned, his eyes clamping shut as his thrusts slowed, erratic. You could feel him start to pulse inside you, it sent you screaming while you came again. Zoro managed to cover your mouth with a hand while he fucked into you through his own orgasm and yours, until he collapsed against the back of the chair, your body slumped onto his.

Thoughts were out of reach as you convulsed in his arms.

Then you gasped as his warm palm started smoothing along your spine, then rubbed in gentle circles.

He kept twitching inside you, and you kept clenching around him, so he stood with a grunt, lifting you and settling you into his hammock. He cleaned himself up while you closed your eyes, still not back to reality.

Then Zoro was leaning toward you, running a hand lightly along your arms.

“I’m sorry I keep interrupting you when you want to talk.”

You choked out a laugh, and had to clear your throat a few times before replying.

“I have enjoyed the interruptions.”

His satisfied smirk made you grin.

“But we’ve got to be clear on this. As much as I love what you’re doing to me-”

Zoro bit his lip, eyes filling with heat again.

“-we can’t keep this up if it’s going to affect how we act as part of the crew.”

He furrowed his brows, taking a breath. You pushed through, trying to say everything before he distracted you again.

“I don’t think starting a romantic relationship would be smart. It could end very badly for everyone. I think a casual arrangement to fulfill our needs could be perfect, but only if we don’t let our feelings get in the way.”

He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

“You just want to fuck the cook.”

You choked again, wanting to laugh, but not sure if he was joking or not.

“I want us to be very clear about what is and isn’t okay. What do we do if one of us wants to fuck someone else, or starts falling for someone else? How do we handle that, talk about it? What if one of us starts feeling serious about each other?”

Your face felt hot, but you kept going.

“I can’t risk losing my place on this crew. Even if it means I don’t get to enjoy our time together again. I need you to seriously think about what you want and need, and what your boundaries are.”

Zoro looked serious, almost sad.

"Zoro, I want to know if how you treat me when we, uh- I need to know how you feel about me, and us right now. Before we get in too deep."

Struggling to get yourself off the hammock, his rough hands helped you steady yourself.

You pulled your pants on, still wobbling a bit, before you placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him.

“Let me know when you figure it out. I can wait.”

You left Zoro’s quarters, and didn’t look for eavesdroppers as you snuck to your room.

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 5

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #My writing #mine #One Piece smut #Opla smut #opla zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fanfic #zoro fanfiction #x reader #turtletaub fics

323 notes · View notes

imaginespazzi · 4 months

Text

You Weren't Mine To Lose

They think they're so good at pretending when all they're really good at is pining.

(In which a masochistic writer puts her beloved ship through hell until giving them their much deserved happy ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 8.2K (idk how this happened but oops? 🙈)

TW: Implied sexual content, mentions of panic attacks, small mention of blood, alcohol, and lots of swearing

“I think that maybe we should end this.”

Azzi Fudd had been on the receiving end of plenty of harsh sentences. And she’d been certain that there wasn’t a sentence left on this planet that could hurt her more than the one the doctor had used to tell her about her torn acl. Until now, until Paige Bueckers, eyes drifting everywhere but towards the girl in front of her, had said those eight words.

“I just,” Paige pauses, rubbing her face, “I think I need something else.”

The words hit Azzi like acid rain, burning into her skin and infiltrating something she can’t quite explain in words. This wasn’t what she’d planned when she’d come searching for her best friend. No, she’d had an entirely different conversation in mind. She swallows the I love you, let’s be more, that had been on the tip of her tongue and chases it down with the carefully constructed speech of wanting forever and happily every after she’d written in her mind. The voice in her head shouts I fucking told you so, she was never yours and Azzi wants to scream.

But what comes out is a quiet, feeble, “okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Okay,” Azzi repeats, clearing her throat, trying to make her voice sound cavalier, “we said no strings and that means you can end it whenever you want. You don’t owe me any explanation and I won’t ask anything.”

“Right. No strings.”

It had been Azzi’s idea really, her stupid dumb self-preservationist idea that had led her to this moment. They’d been drunk the first time it had happened but she remembers it clearly.

Remembers the way an inebriated Paige had clung to her, eyes shining with lust.

Remembers the way Paige had whispered her name, desire clinging to each syllable.

Remembers the shivers that had crept up her spine as Paige’s hands had gone on a journey starting at her shoulders, and then down her arms, before finally rubbing circles around her waist.

Remembers the moment she decided fuck it.

But most of all she remembers the morning after, remembers the questions written all over Paige’s face, remembers making another decision. Just best friends who occasionally fuck, no strings, just fun. She’d been stupid to think that if she ignored them, the strings just wouldn’t exist. That if she pretended it was just sex, that she wasn’t so completely in love with her best friend, she would get over it. Newsflash: she hadn’t gotten over it.

“Well that’s that then,” Azzi says with a brightness she doesn’t feel, as she heads towards the door, desperate to get away, “I forgot Carol needed help with something so.”

“Azzi.”

She hates the hope that rises in her at the sound of her name. Tell me to stay. Tell me you didn’t mean it. Tell me you love me too.

“We’re still us right?” Paige asks quietly, her voice filled with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

“Of course Paige,” Azzi says, her back still turned towards Paige, knowing if she turns, if she lets Paige see her face, her best friend will see her words for the lies they are, “we’ll always be us.”

***

Azzi doesn’t know how she manages to get to Caroline’s room without falling to pieces. Her legs feel like they’re a second away from giving out and her arms shake uncontrollably. The dull beat of stress headache pounds in her skull.

“Ah Mrs. Bueckers,” Caroline smiles jubilantly as Azzi lets herself in, “did you guys finally figure it out?”

It takes her a second to catch her breath and to understand the meaning of Mrs. Bueckers. And then, Azzi breaks. Laughter erupts from her body and suddenly she’s cackling like a woman possessed. It sounds like shattering glass to her own ears and this is it, she thinks, I’ve officially reached peak madness. But she can’t stop, her body doubling over as she clutches at her stomach, tears beginning to leak from her eyes.

Caroline’s eyes widen, her smile slowly slipping off as the realisation that something has gone very wrong settles in.

“Azzi, fuck, what happened,” she asks, unsure of wether to approach the distressed girl, who, instead of answering, starts laughing harder, “shit, should I get Paige.”

Something shift’s at the mention of Paige’s name. The laughter dies away and instead, an unsettling panic takes birth in Azzi’s stomach at the idea of Paige seeing her like this.

“No,” she chokes out frantically, “don’t get Paige.”

Caroline’s concern grows at that. It had become a rule of sorts, if one of Paige or Azzi seemed to be going through it, then the best thing to do was to go find the other. They knew each other’s wants and needs better than anyone else could ever hope to. And what they wanted, was usually the other to hold them through the pain. So this, Azzi not asking for Paige, Azzi actively denying her need for Paige, this was bad, very bad.

“What happened Az?”

“She ended it,” the words leave Azzi’s mouth in tandem with the air leaving her lungs, “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. She ended it. Fuck. She wants something else, something more and that’s not– I’m not– oh my god.”

“Az-”

“I knew this was a bad idea but- oh my god. She ended it,” tears wrack through her body as reality crashes and burns around Azzi, “I was so stupid, so, so stupid. I told you this would happen Caroline. I told you she didn’t feel the same. Oh my god, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.”

“Azzi,” Caroline grabs at the brown-skinned girl, spotting the tell-tale signs of panic attack, “breathe with me Az, come on, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Azzi manages to get out, gasping for air, her body vibrating with sobs, “it’s not going to be okay because she doesn’t love me. She doesn’t love me and I don’t know how to live with that because all I know is how to love her.”

Azzi feels the energy leave her body as she goes limp in Caroline’s arms, letting the taller girl anchor her. She’s not ready yet, not ready for tomorrow when she’ll inevitably have to play pretend. She’ll have to stand in the same room as her best friend and put on a smile and pretend that she wouldn’t rather be anywhere but there. She’ll have to bicker and tease and laugh with the girl who broke her heart and pretend that she’d never given her the power to break it in the first place. And Azzi would do it all, because that’s what she’d promised Paige. She’d looked in the blonde girl’s eyes at the age of fifteen and swore to her that no matter what happened, the two of them would always be them. They would always be okay. And Azzi was going to do everything in her power to keep that promise

***

The first few days are fine and Azzi almost deludes herself into believing that she's okay. They fall into their old rhythm of being just best friends almost seamlessly, at least they do when they’re with their teammates. She’s not ready to confront the fact that they haven’t been by themselves, just the two of them, since that night. And if Paige notices the way Azzi avoids being alone with her, she keeps it to herself.

The same way they didn’t tell anyone they were more, they don’t tell anyone they’re less. They don’t need to; the team just knows. Even the coaches, who knew but never said a word, can tell something’s off. It’s in the little hesitations before the smiles, the moments of pause before saying something. But most of all it’s in the way Paige and Azzi don’t touch at all anymore. There’s no more Paige making it a mission to find ways to let her hands linger just a little longer on Azzi’s body when she’s in defending her, no more not-so-subtle brushes and linking pinkies as they walk past each other in the hallways, no more “just another one” pecks in the training rooms as everyone else waits for them.

Nothing changes on the court. Paige passes the ball, a pass only she could see, and Azzi shoots it, a shot only she could get off. They play in tandem, their backcourt chemistry still perfect. But the slap of their hands after the ball goes through the hoop, is half-hearted and formal, like teammates. Less. So, maybe Azzi’s wrong. Maybe they haven’t really fallen back into their old patterns and maybe everybody knows it. But in the bright lights of the gym, as she and Paige argue over a defensive play, and the game of basketball keeps them tethered to each other, she thinks that this will have to be enough.

***

And then, things go from okay to very much not okay. It’s after practice and they’ve chosen Paige’s apartment as their relaxation spot, except Paige isn’t there. She’d snuck away after practice and Azzi had pretended, it’s all she seems to do these days, not to notice. She’s not used to not knowing where Paige is but she’d quenched the overwhelming need to ask the blonde girl where she was going while completely ignoring the part of her that wanted to ask if she could come along.

“And that’s how your brain eats itself,” Amari finishes a long winded explanation with a triumphant smile. There’s dead silence as the rest of the team looks at each other before they all burst into laughter.

“How the hell do you even know that?” Aaliyah manages to get out through peals of laughter.

“Y’all don’t google?” Amari asks incredulously, and the way her face scrunches up causes a brand new wave of giggles to flood the room.

“We google,” Azzi says and she hasn’t smiled like this in days, “we just don’t google things like that.”

Amari lets out an indignant squawk at that and Azzi feels a sense of calm that she hasn’t in a while. It lasts about a minute until two voices, one unfamiliar, one too familiar, begin to invade the room. Paige stumbles in a second later and fuck. Azzi’s breath catches in her throat as she desperately tries to look away from where Paige’s hand is firmly intertwined with someone else’s. It’s a mistake because her eyes land on Paige's face instead and that might be worse. She’s met with a glowing smile and bright eyes, none of which are directed towards Azzi. Instead, all of Paige’s happiness is for another girl.

“Layla,” she hears Aubrey say and oh. Because Azzi knows exactly who Layla is, or at least who she was. There had been a freshman Paige that Azzi had never really known beyond the phone calls and facetimes with her Paige. But she’d known that Paige had gotten around and she’d heard of Layla. They told each other everything and hookups fell right into the scheme of things. Layla had been Paige’s go-to on nights she’d been too tired to go looking for someone else. She’d been such a constant, that she’d slowly become a friend. Things had changed gradually from the moment Azzi stepped on campus. Even before they’d brought sex into it, all of Paige’s time had been Azzi’s, well, until now.

“Hey guys,” Layla smiles and is greeted back with a chorus of not so enthusiastic “hello’s”

“Lay, let’s go,” Paige whines impatiently.

“Give me a second Bueckers, I’m trying to be polite,” Layla rolls her eyes but Azzi doesn’t miss the fondness in them and everything burns again.

“Be polite later,” Paige tugs on Layla’s hand. In turn, Layla gives the team a slightly apologetic smile before letting the blonde girl pull her away. The bang of Paige’s door closing behind the two of them reverberates around the pin drop silence of the living room, that had been filled with laughter only mere seconds ago.

Azzi finds herself suffocating under the sympathetic glances her teammates send her way. She digs her fingernails deep into the palm of her hand, forming dents she knows will bleed. If it hurts, she doesn’t feel it over the reckless thumping in her chest. One, two, three, breathe, she counts to herself, refusing to break down in front of her teammates.

“It’s called phagocytosis,” Amari says after a second, trying to fill the silence, “and I mean it’s not really the brain eating itself but it feels like it.”

“So you just technically lied then.”

“I did no such thing. It was a slight exaggeration maybe.”

“Phagocytosis sounds like a really weird disease.”

“Yeah, maybe Amari has it.”

The team dissolves back into giggles, not quite as rambunctious as before but it’s enough. Enough for them to be distracted. Enough for Azzi to escape. Not enough for Caroline to not notice but Azzi knows her friend will give her a moment. She takes the stairs almost three at a time, flinging the door to her apartment and then to her room. The force of it creates a circle of wind around her and for a second, to her dizzy brain, it feels like Azzi’s floating. She doesn’t bother with the lights, flinging herself onto her bed. Pressing her hands to her forehead, she desperately tries to block the constant stream of thoughts in her head about Paige and Layla. It doesn’t help. And in the familiar comfort of her bedroom, Azzi curls into herself, and lets herself fall apart.

***

The ball passes right through Azzi’s hand and rolls out of bounds. Azzi curses to herself as she hears Coach yell her name. It’s almost the end of practice, and she can hear the disappointment in his voice as he subs her out of their scrimmage. She’d been distracted the whole time, a step too slow on both sides of the ball. It was a novel thing. Azzi had bad games sometimes but she rarely had bad practices. As she walks off to the side, she can feel Paige’s eyes glaring at her. It had been her assist after all that Azzi hadn’t converted. She shrinks into herself, disappointment and shame colliding into one, because they’d done such a good job at not letting their personal havoc impact their game. And she’d blown it.

“What the hell was that,” true to what she’d expected, Paige turns on her the minute they enter the locker room after practice. They’ve barely spoken in the last couple of days and Azzi closes her eyes, letting herself revel just for a second in the feeling of having Paige so close.

“It was an accident,” she replies, turning her body so she’s face to face with her best friend.

Paige scoffs, “which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Which one was the accident? That perfect pass you just let go to waste? Was it that wide open three you missed? Or the blind drive to the basket into three defenders for no reason? Oh wait, maybe it was when you completely lost yourself on defence?” Paige rants, anger coating every word. It’s not new for Paige to hold Azzi accountable and god, maybe Azzi’s even missed it a little bit but she can’t help feeling annoyed that this this is what had triggered the old Paige.

“I had a bad day. It happens,” Azzi’s voice is colder than she means for it to come out but all the emotions she’s been suppressing are bubbling at the top of her throat.

“Well it can’t happen. You do that in a game and we’re fucked,” Paige retorts. The rest of the team continues to do what they’ve been doing, occasionally glancing at the two arguing girls. It’s another of those unspoken rules, don’t interfere when Paige and Azzi are fighting.

“I didn’t do it in a game.”

“But you could. And if you keep practising like that you’re going to end up embarrassing yourself in a game.”

“Again, it was one bad day Paige, I’ll keep it in mind and I’ll be better tomorrow,” frustration seeps into her tone and Azzi hopes that her words are enough for Paige.

“You better because that can’t happen again Azzi,” Paige says.

“I just said it wouldn’t,” Azzi’s voice rises, throwing her hands up in irritation.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m-”

“Paige?” a new voice cuts in and both girls reluctantly look away from each other to see Layla, “hey, you okay? You wanna get out of here.”

“I-” Paige lets out a breath, looking back and forth between Azzi and Layla. And Azzi waits, waits for Paige to tell the new girl not to get in between Paige and Azzi, like she always had when anyone else had tried to step into their fights. She waits for Paige to tell Laya that she’s fine, and that she and Azzi just need to talk it out. She waits, and it never comes.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” the blonde girl says instead, giving Layla a small smile. She looks over at Azzi, something unreadable in her eyes, before grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“Shit,” Caroline whispers under her breath, a sentiment clearly echoed in the rest of the team’s faces. Paige and Azzi didn’t leave arguments unfinished. They'd been in uncharted waters with the two girls for a while now, and this feels like yet another turning point.

Anger and frustration course through Azzi’s veins. She just left her brain sneers at her. The hurt and pain fade to the back of her mind, as Azzi lets these new emotions settle all over her. She’s cried more in the last couple of weeks than she ever has in her life and she realises slowly, letting this new volatility swarm her, that she has no more tears left to give. She left. And then a new voice enters her brain, and you let her go.

***

A knock on the door shakes Azzi away from her thoughts. The book on her lap that she’d been pretending to read, falls unmajestically to the floor. Through bleary eyes, she sees the 10 o’clock on her watch and confusion settles into her. She’d been clear before leaving the locker room that she wanted to be alone tonight and while her teammates had protested a little, they’d eventually agreed to give her space, although Caroline had been adamant on coming to wish her a good night. It was far too early for that. She sighs, ready to huff at whichever of her teammates had ignored her pleas. Instead she’s met with the sight of a sheepish looking Paige.

“Hey,” the blonde girl smiles and it’s small and slightly cautious but it’s so genuine.

“Hi,” Azzi says softly.

“I think I owe you a little bit of an apology,” Paige says.

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow at that, “since when do you apologise for holding me accountable?”

“I- well,” Paige stutters, “Layla said I should.”

“That’s what Layla says is it?” Azzi can’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. They’d never apologised for critiquing each other’s games or practise before and suddenly Layla had said Paige should and Paige had listened. Azzi hates everything about that.

“Is me apologizing a bad thing? What’s with the attitude?”

“No,” Azzi sighs, not having the mental stamina to deal with right now, “I’m just tired. I appreciate the apology and I’m sorry too.”

It sounds so formal to her own ears, like two acquaintances writing emails to each other. As they stand face to face, separated by mere inches, Azzi realises the depth of the chiasm between them. And she doesn’t know if she has the strength to build a bridge to go over it.

“Do you want to watch a movie,” Paige asks finally, her voice tinged with hope.

“I don’t know Paige. I’m tired and-”

“Please,” there’s desperation in Paige's voice now, “we haven’t done anything just you and me in a while and,” she stops, her eyes wet as they come up to meet Azzi’s, “I miss you.”

I miss you too, Azzi wants to stay. She wants to throw herself at Paige and wrap herself in the comfort of her arms. She wants to massage away the stress lines on her forehead and kiss away the tears threatening to fall from her blue eyes. Instead, Azzi simply manages to nod and steps away so Paige can come in. She’s rewarded with a smile so bright, it makes her heart ache.

As Paige enters the room, Azzi’s reminded of the last time the two of them had been there together and she can’t help the faint blush that rises up her neck into her cheeks. That night had been different, Paige had been softer, slower. She’d taken her time with every touch, every kiss; her every move had been sinfully deliberate. Through all of it, she’d kept her eyes locked with Azzi’s, making sure she could see how desperately Paige needed her in that moment. And Azzi, hands fisting sheets, had let her take whatever she wanted. She wonders if Paige knew that would be their last time, if she’d already decided to end things. I’d have held on longer if I knew.

Paige’s eyes linger on the bed for a second, before she decides to sit on the couch and Azzi follows her lead. They both curl up as close to the arm rests on their side as they can, leaving an unfathomably large amount of space between themselves for two basketball players who had been attached at the hip since they were fifteen. The awkwardness is palpable as Azzi picks a random comedy movie, the two of them making a subconscious decision to not revert to their normal routine of arguing about what to watch.

It takes a quarter or so of the movie before they find some semblance of normalcy. Paige finally lets out a laugh, after having reined it in during previous funny scenes and it sets Azzi off. And then they’re both giggling messes, feeding off of each other’s infectious laughter. The tension eases and they both unconsciously let their bodies uncurl, letting their legs tangle with each other. It comes so naturally, they don’t even really notice that they’re touching for the first time in weeks. They’re too busy laughing, and when they’re not, there’s a comfortable silence and it’s just, it’s them. Azzi doesn’t know when she falls asleep, she just knows it’s the best sleep she’s had in a while.

***

Azzi stirs awake to cold hands caressing her face, Paige’s touch ever so familiar. She keeps her eyes closed, scared it’s a dream. She’s had a lot of those lately.

“I wish you felt the same,” Paige whispers, pressing her lips to Azzi’s forehead and Azzi swears she feels a teardrop fall on her face. But before she can react, before she can reach out for the figure she can feel hovering above her, she feels it retreat away from her.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s all alone.

***

Azzi’s on edge. The team had chosen a bar in a random town in Connecticut tonight, instead of going to Ted’s as usual. It was meant to be a change of scenery and they were unlikely to be as recognized in such a random area. In theory, it sounded like a good idea, but the combination of a brand new place with people she’d never seen in her life, made Azzi far more tense than she had thought it would. On top of that, she hadn’t wanted to go out tonight in the first place. It had been two days since Paige had left her cryptically, and with the way the blond was vehemently avoiding her, Azzi was partially convinced, maybe she had dreamt the whole thing. The exhaustion of it all had desperately made her want to simply lie in bed and do nothing for hours. But if she’d stayed, one of her teammates would stay behind for her and if there was one thing Azzi didn’t want, it was to be an inconvenience.

And then there was the Layla of it all. Because apparently Paige didn’t go anywhere without Layla anymore. Remember when it was you, Azzi’s brain reminds her scathingly. From where she sits at a table with the rest of the team, she has a torturously close view of the two of them dancing together. It’s nothing scandalous, in fact to anybody else it’s probably the definition of friendly, but Azzi’s head is clouded with jealousy, and the three shots of vodka she’d already downed to ignore it.

“I think I need another round of shots,” she announces, noticing Paige and Layla start to make their way back to the table, “one of you come with me.”

“Is that a good idea?” Caroline asks tensely.

“Of course it is. Shots are good. Shots are fun,” Azzi wraps an arm around Caroline’s shoulder, her words coming out slightly slurred, “come with me pretty please.”

“Come where?” Paige’s voice interrupts.

“Nowhere you need to be,” Azzi retorts harshly and a flicker of hurt passes across Paige’s face. Azzi almost apologises, hating seeing Paige sad, but then her eyes focus in on where Layla’s hand is carefully placed on Paige’s bicep, and the sorry dies on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she roughly grabs Caroline and pulls her to the bar. She doesn’t get drunk often, hadn’t planned on doing it tonight but she’s so tired of feeling.

“Maybe we should cut you off,” Caroline says softly and Azzi pouts, “c’mon Azzi drinking so you don’t have to deal with your feelings is never a good idea you know that. You know I’m right.”

“I’m really tired of doing what’s right,” Azzi says despondently, waving the bartender over, “a shot of tequila please.”

Caroline sighs but seems to think better of trying again, shaking her head no when the bartender asks if she wants a drink of her own. She watches silently as Azzi downs the shot, concern and sympathy for her friend keeping her from snatching the shot away from Azzi.

“On me,” a deep voice echoes in Azzi’s ear as she pulls out her card to pay for the shot. She loses balance trying to turn around, but a pair of unfamiliar hands grab at her waist to keep her steady. Through the fuzziness in her brain, Azzi finds herself staring into green eyes; green eyes that belong to a pretty girl with blond hair and strong arms. And she’s tall, a voice in her brain says appreciatively. She looks just like Paige, well except the eyes, another less-amused voice points out. But she’s not Paige is she, the other voice reminds her snarkily.

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Azzi hears Caroline say from behind, her voice weirdly pitched.

“I want to,” the pretty girl says, eyes never leaving Azzi, as she hands her card over to the bartender “I’m Stephanie.”

“Azzi.”

“And is the girl behind you, your girlfriend Azzi?” Stephanie asks, but her tone suggests she already knows.

“Who? Caroline. Oh absolutely not. Just a friend.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I don’t dance with pretty girls with girlfriends,” Stephanie says, emphasising the word pretty.

“We’re not dancing,” Azzi replies dumbly.

“Well let’s fix that,” Stephanie whispers and oh, she’s flirting, Azzi realises. It’s not that Azzi’s never had anyone hit on her. No, there’d been plenty of men but there hadn’t been a girl before, well never a girl that wasn’t Paige, “dance with me Azzi.”

Behind Azzi, Caroline chokes on air.

“Azzi,” she hisses, her eyes flickering over to where Paige is sitting, back turned to the bar. The point guard hasn’t seen what’s happening yet but Caroline knows the moment she catches wind of it, things would go up in quite literal flames.

Azzi stares up at Stephanie’s expectant eyes, before letting her gaze move to Paige, Paige who’s engrossed in a conversation with Layla, who’s laughing at something Layla said. She turns back to Stephanie, a shy smile playing on her lips.

“I’d love to dance,” she says softly, ignoring the groan Caroline lets out behind her and letting Stephanie pull her to the dance floor. Two can play the move on game.

Dancing with Stephanie is different. Her hands feel different against Azzi’s skin, a little too rough and yet still too soft. Her smile is different, sexy and sultry but missing an innocent frivolity that Azzi had become used to. But most of all it’s the eyes. The mysterious green, a sharp contrast from the calm, familiar blue. She pushes the comparisons to the back of her mind, determined to enjoy the way Stephanie twirls her around then pulls her in. And then they’re suddenly so close, noses almost touching. Azzi knows what’s going to happen and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s not right.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Stephanie whispers and the voices in Azzi’s head battle, her heart beating to a chorus of she’s not Paige. But the final nail in the coffin is an image of Paige and Layla that her brain conjures up and in an envious drunken haze, Azzi makes another of her not so great decisions. She nods her head yes.

It takes a second of Stephanie’s lips pressing against hers for Azzi to know it’s all wrong. As she starts pulling away, the sound of shattering glass wreaks havoc in ears. Eyes blinking rapidly, she follows the path of familiar voices shouting to locate the noise. Paige stands, a little distance away from the dance floor, face fuming red. A litany of broken glass shards surround her feet and a gush of red flows from the patch of skin where her left thumb meets her left palm.

“Paige, fuck,” concerns flows through Azzi but before she can make her way to the bleeding girl, Stephanie pulls her back in.

“Meet me outside in a bit yeah,” she says with a devilish smirk. She doesn’t give Azzi a chance to respond, before disappearing out of sight. Azzi blinks dumbfoundedly at the spot where the girl had previously been, the alcohol catching up to her brain.

“Paige oh my god you’re bleeding,” Nika’s voice shakes Azzi out of her trance, “can someone get a band-aid please.”

The crowd parts seamlessly as Azzi rushes towards her best friend, grabbing for her injured left hand.

“What the hell Paige?” she’s incredibly sober now, as she inspects Paige’s hand before it’s yanked out of her grip.

“I should ask you that. What. The. Hell. Azzi?” fury laces every word as Paige stares her down.

“I– what?” Azzi asks quizzically, still focused on trying to grab Paige’s hand again but the blonde girl is determined, despite wincing, to keep it out of her reach.

“Tell me, was she a good kisser?” Paige asks, eyes narrowing dangerously, “did you enjoy the kiss?”

“That’s–I–it–that’s not important,” Azzi stutters, “you’re bleeding Paige.”

“And I’ll keep bleeding till you answer the damn question,” the blonde girl says, unveiling a side of herself Azzi's never seen, “so tell me Azzi, was it a good kiss?”

“Paige,” Caroline says firmly, noticing the crowds that are building up around them, “I don’t think now’s the time.”

“No, I think it’s the perfect time actually. If she can kiss a stranger now, she can answer a question about this kiss now too,” Paige sneers.

“You’re making a scene,” Azzi whispers.

“I’m making a scene?” the laugh Paige lets out is borderline manic, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one borderline dry-humping a stranger in the middle of a random bar and I’m making a scene?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi recoils.

“Just telling the truth. Where’d she go then? Is she waiting for you outside?” when Azzi doesn’t reply, Paige find her answer in the silence and let’s out another laugh, “she is, isn’t she? Well then what the fuck are you doing here Azzi?”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, eyes brimming with tears now, “you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

“No, I don’t need your help Azzi.”

“Paige,” she tries again.

“No Azzi. I don’t need you. Go get fucking laid,” the words snap something in Azzi that has been on the edge of breaking since Paige had told her she wanted something else. She steps back from the blonde girl, blood boiling.

“You know what Paige,” her voice is far stronger than she feels, “maybe I fucking will.”

***

“Fuck,” Paige curses, fisting her palms and then hissing when her left hand aches. Regret pulsates through her head. She hadn’t meant it, any of it but especially not the last part. The last thing she wanted was Azzi to go after that girl.

Watching Azzi kiss someone else had been enough torture, the idea of her doing anything more would be the end of Paige’s sanity. It was ingrained in her brain now. She’d been laughing with Layla, hands encased around a beer bottle and then her teammates had gone oddly quiet, their eyes focused on something behind her. Confused, Paige had turned and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor was her Azzi, in somebody else’s arms. Layla, the saviour she’d been the last couple days, had immediately tried to distract her but Paige’s gaze was transfixed on Azzi. Her best friend twirled on the dance floor and a dagger twisted in Paige’s heart. And then, time seemed to slow down as the other girl brough Azzi impossibly close to her. Don’t you fucking dare Paige had thought, squeezing the glass bottle like a stress toy. On the dance floor, someone else, someone who wasn’t Paige, pressed their lips to Azzi’s and on the other side, Paige’s hands crushed the glass bottle into a thousand pieces.

When Azzi looked over, her lipstick slightly smudged, her eyes glassy, Paige had wanted to die. And when the girl had the audacity to pull Azzi back into her, Paige had wanted to commit murder. Misery and fury raged a battle in her head and when Azzi had rushed over, the gentle touch of her hand had been too much. And then Paige had taken it too far.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she repeats, ignoring her teammates as she fights through the crowd to chase after Azzi. Some people move easily, others glare and some flat out yell at her but Paige doesn’t care; she focuses solely on getting to the girl she’d just let go.

“Azzi?” she calls out, stepping out of the bar into the cold breeze, “please, please, please don’t go. Azzi?”

She scans the parking lot for the brunette, frantically pacing around the entrance but there’s no sign of Azzi. Paige hasn’t cried since the night she’d ended it, throwing herself in work and basketball and Layla but as the realisation that Azzi left, that maybe it’s too late, hits her, the tears she’d so carefully kept at bay, traipse down her cheeks like a never ending waterfall.

***

The whole team is silent in the living room as Nika bandages Paige’s left hand. The tension in the air is palpable as Amari paces the room, the sounds of her feet moving matching the rhythm of Aubrey nervously snacking on a packet of chips.

“Are you going to explain yourself,” Aaliyah breaks through the quiet, her question directed at Paige.

“It was an accident,” Paige doesn’t mean to get defensive. She’s aware she fucked up tonight but there’s too much going on and her head is still stuck at Azzi. Azzi, who had left with a random girl and only texted Caroline the words I’m fine after Caroline had blown up her phone with concerned texts. Paige’s I’m sorry, hadn’t gotten any reply.

“An accident,” Aaliayh says slowly, raising an eyebrow, “that’s what you’re going with?”

“I didn’t purposely break a glass bottle and fuck up my thumb Aaliyah.”

“Coach is going to kill you,” Aubrey says nervously, “this is not good Paige.”

“Did I miss the gang up on Paige memo? Because why am I the one being yelled at right now?”

“Who’s yelling?” Amari supplies unhelpfully.

“That’s not the point,” Paige glares at the taller girl who puts her hands up in defeat, “Why am I the one getting this responsibility lecture? I’m not the one who just made out with a random stranger in a bar and then just fucking left with them. We don’t even know where the hell she is.”

She knows she sounds bitter but the hurt of the night still stings and she doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with her teammates being mad at her rightnow. Tomorrow, she’d apologise and own up but she’s feeling reckless tonight. Her teammates are silent and Paige thinks, maybe they’re going to drop it too. And then Caroline speaks, her voice steely in a way that doesn’t match her normally soft sweet self.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she meets Paige’s eyes with an unexpected fierceness, “she’s single. Stephanie as far as I know is single. Azzi’s a grown adult who can hook up with whoever the hell she feels like. It’s not just something you can do.”

“That’s not the point,” Paige growls, “”you guys always know where I-”

“I know exactly where Azzi is actually,” Caroline rebuts , “so what exactly is the problem here?”

“She– I– It’s,” Paige bumbles on, not having an actual answer.

“You’re the one who ended it,” Caroline says, her voice accusatory, and the whole room seems to hold their breath at that, “you ended it and you don’t get to question what she does now. It’s over Paige and that was your decision.”

Paige gapes at Caroline, “how can you, of all people, say that to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the only one who knows Carol,” Paige says slowly and it’s Carol’s turn to be confused now. The rest of the team shoots each other questioning glances, things suddenly seeming even more puzzling than before.

“I heard you that night,” the blonde girl says, her voice breaking a little, “I heard you and Azzi.”

“Paige,” Caroline says, always quick to catch things, “what exactly did you hear?”

“I heard enough,” Paige says, closing her eyes because she can still hear that conversation in her head, “I heard her telling you she was going to end it, that she was tired of our arrangement. That she wanted– she needed– something else.”

“Oh Paige,” Nika says softly, putting an arm around Paige’s shoulders and her twin practically melts into the comforting touch.

“But I know her. She’s not good at that stuff. Always such a people pleaser. It was gonna be too hard for her to say it to me, so I said it for her. I broke my own heart, so she didn’t have to.”

A heavy silence follows Paige’s words as the blonde girl lets the tears fall for the second time that night. Her teammates are lost for words, the gravity of the situation, of Paige’s feelings, too much for all of them. A myriad of emotions flitter across Caroline’s face before finally settling on a saddened sympathy.

“Paige,” she says softly, coming to sit in front of the sobbing point guard, “you didn’t hear the whole conversation. God you’re such an idiot, the both of you are honestly.”

“Talk about kicking me when I’m down Carol,” Paige jokes.

“That’s not– Paige I can’t tell you the whole conversation because you deserve to hear it from her and she deserves the chance to say it to you. But Paige, Azzi wasn’t going to end it because she wanted less, she was going to end it because she wanted more. From you, for both of you,” Caroline says, hoping against hope that Paige understands what she means.

The realisation hits Paige in waves. She wants more. The words echo through her head and carve out a place in her heart. She wants more. Azzi had wanted more and Paige had wanted more and oh, they’d been so fucking stupid.

“I pushed her too far though,” Paige says as another realisation, the fact that Azzi isn’t here hits her, “she’s gone. Fuck, I need to be alone.”

“No Paige wai-” Caroline begins but Paige is gone out the door before she can tell the girl where Azzi is. She considers going after Paige but decides that maybe she’s revealed enough today. Maybe they could figure out the rest of it by themselves.

***

She’d meant to go to her own apartment, to her own room but her feet had a mind of their own, bringing her to Azzi’s instead. It was muscle memory really, her finding Azzi when she needed to be held. Except, there would be no Azzi to hold her tonight. Still, being in her room, where it smelt like her, Paige could pretend. She’d gotten pretty good at that.

The door opens smoothly as Paige slides into the room. And she almost gasps.

In the dim light of the night lamp, Azzi lies curled up in bed. She’s cuddling a pillow to her chest, her blanket pulled up to her neck with one hand slightly out of it. And she’s wearing one of Paige’s shirts,

She’s the most beautiful girl Paige has ever seen.

Carefully, trying to make as little sound as possible, Paige creeps closer to the sleeping girls. She can vaguely make out the tear tracks running down Azzi’s face and the guilt of it runs through Paige. A part of her thinks, maybe she should leave, wait til tomorrow. But she can’t. Instead she grabs one of Azzi’s shirts that lay scattered on the bean bag chair placed at the end of the bed. Quietly, she changes into it, breathing in the scent of all things Azzi.

“Paige.” Azzi whispers groggily as Paige slips underneath the covers, lying down facing the sleeping girl.

“Yeah,” Paige replies softly, caressing Azzi’s cheeks, “it’s me.”

“It’s not,” Azzi says wistfully, eyes still closed, as she wraps an arm around Paige’s torso, “it’s just me dreaming again.”

“You dream about me?” Paige asks, hating the hurt she can hear in Azzi’s voice.

“Mmm,” comes Azzi’s answer as she snuggles further into Paige, “all the time. I’ll take you however I can get you Paige. Even if it's a dream. Even if you’re not here in the morning.”

“I will be tomorrow. I promise,” Paige presses a kiss to the top of Azzi’s head and the darker skinned girl lets out a content sigh but Paige can tell she still thinks she’s dreaming, that she still thinks she’ll wake up alone tomorrow.

But Paige Bueckers doesn’t break promises. She’d be right there with Azzi tomorrow morning and if things went the way she wanted them to, then she’d be there for every morning after.

***

It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in weeks and Paige wakes up in a complete state of serenity. It doesn’t last long when she blindly feels around the bed for Azzi’s warm body, only to find the cool of empty sheets under her head instead. She jolts up frantically, mind going million miles an hour thinking up the worst possibilities. Her heartbeat begins to calm down as she finally finds the brunette curled up on the bean bag chair with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Hey,” Paige breathes out, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face. Azzi doesn’t smile back

“What are you doing here Paige?” Azzi asks warily and Paige is instantly defensive.

“What are you doing here Azzi? Didn’t you say you were going to get laid?”

“And what if I did?”

“Well it must not have been very good if you came home that early and put on another girl’s shirt,” Paige says pointedly, amused by the pink that appears on Azzi’s cheeks. She knows the other girl’s lying, it’s just a matter of how long she’ll keep up the ruse.

“I grabbed whatever was closest.”

“Is that so?” Paige quirks an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t stand for it, letting the girl I’d just fucked wear someone else’s clothes. You know that.”

Azzi’s blush intensifies and she’s quick to change topics, “does your girlfriend know you snuck into another girl’s room last night?”

“I wasn’t aware I had a girlfriend,” Paige says, confused by the question.

“So what exactly is Layla then?”

“She’s a friend.”

“Yeah right,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes. Paige stares at her best friend, wondering if she’s gone insane. Her and Layla? Even thinking about it felt a little insane. Sure, she’d slept with the girl a couple of times her freshmen year but even that had felt insanely platonic.

“Az,” she says softly when the realisation sinks in, “Layla is not my girlfriend. She’s– well, I guess she’s my escape? I just– I needed a friend who wasn’t also your friend and she was there and it was easy. You really thought she was my girlfriend?”

“What was I supposed to think Paige?” Azzi says miserably, voice rising with each word, “you said you needed something else and Layla’s something else so I put two and two together and apparently came up with five.”

“I didn’t–,” Paige takes in a deep breath, it was now or never, “I thought you were gonna break my heart.”

“What?”

Paige sighs at the incredulity in Azzi’s voice, “I overheard you telling Carol that you were gonna end it with me, that you needed something else.”

“Oh,” she can see the clogs in Azzi’s brain turning, remembering exactly which conversation Paige is talking about.

“Yeah. So I ended it before you could. I couldn’t let you– I didn’t want you to break my heart,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s eyes.

“So you broke mine instead?” Azzi whispers and Paige doesn’t have to see the girl to know there are tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t realise it was mine to break,” Paige shrugs brokenly, eyes finally looking at Azzi through wet eyelashes.

They stare at each other in silence, hearts beating erratically, both of them waiting to see who’ll make the first move. Finally, Azzi stands up, and for once second, the fear that she’s about to walk away, that it really was too late, fogs Paige’s mind. But she doesn’t and instead Paige watches mesmerised, as Azzi slowly climbs onto the bed and then onto Paige’s lap. She arranges her legs so she’s straddling Paige’s thighs and her arms fall naturally around Paige’s neck. Immediately, Paige’s hands move to grip Azzi’s waist. They stay there like that for a while, foreheads resting against each other, basking in the warmth of finally being so close.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” Azzi confesses finally and Paige lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, “I thought about it but then I was in her car and all I could think about was you. I think you might have ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good. Because this is it okay? You and me forever,” Paige juts out a pinky and Azzi immediately links it with her own.

“Forever,” Azzi whispers back and it’s not clear who surges forward first but then they’re kissing and it feels like a brand new adventure and coming home all at once. They melt into each other, gripping each other as close as possible, the overwhelming need to be touching everywhere taking over their senses.

“Azzi,” Paige pulls away and almost laughs at the way Azzi pouts, “I need you to say it.”

Azzi’s eyes twinkle with happiness, a spark only Paige can bring out in them. She leans in, the feel of her breath sending shivers of anticipation up Paige’s spine.

“Wanna play ball?” she whispers sensually. Paige lets out an irritated whine and Azzi bursts out laughing, hiding her face in the crook of Paige’s neck.

“Seriously,” Paige groans, pinching Azzi’s waist, but she’s unable to keep the amusement out of her own voice. She hasn’t seen Azzi this happy in so long and if Azzi’s happy, well then everything in Paige’s world is going right. The younger girl’s giggles slowly subside, as her face takes on a more serious expression.

“Paige Madison Bueckers,” she says, cupping Paige’s face, “you’re my best friend, my soulmate and I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life. And I’m about to be real cliché here so don’t laugh but baby, I want your face to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see every night. I want you at your best but even more at your worst. I want everything as long as it’s with you. Because I am so completely, and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

“When did you become such a poet Azzi Fudd,” Paige says, her smile widening when Azzi laughs again, “I’m so completely and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

Paige recaptures Azzi’s lips with her own, pulling her girl as close to her as she can. The kiss is sweet and a little salty from the happy tears running down both their faces. It’s innocent and lazy, and still sloppy and passionate. It’s everything.

“If you ever break up with me again, I’ll kill you,” Azzi says, only half joking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Paige promises, “you’re stuck with me for life.”

***

A/N: Congratulations on making it to the end of that! I'm ngl, I love the concept but I don't think I wrote it out particularly well but I had fun writing it so hopefully y'all enjoyed reading it. I promise the next one will be more happy. But for now, I hope this was worth it <3.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #wcbb

150 notes · View notes

eldritch-nightmare · 7 months

Note

Do u have any headcanons for poly! proxies (the usual 3 of masky, hoodie and toby) ?? :)

a/n: yeah okay i'll write the creepypasta interps of masky and hoodie just this once because i'm weak for poly content. wasn't sure if you wanted ship content or x reader content so i did both. enjoy <3

poly proxy headcanons.

warnings: exclusively referring to tim and brian as masky and hoodie in this, i actually forgot how masky and hoodie behaved as proxies of slenderman oops, no real warning actually just some healthy relationships and communication.

X READER. [gn reader]

You and Hoodie are definitely the mediators, I think. Toby and Masky have a habit of bickering a lot when it comes to wanting to spend time with you, so sometimes you and Hoodie have to sit them down and talk things out.

The fact that you have three guys dating you means there's got to be a lot of communication and two of these three guys are exclusively terrible at communicating.

You guys sorta attempt to follow a schedule. The keyword is attempt. Sometimes it works out, and sometimes things happen that make the schedule get all messy.

They all take you out on vastly different dates.

Hoodie takes you out on little dates such as walks through a park, or browsing a music store.

Masky takes you out on dates that are a little more expensive, such as a nice restaurant, or maybe he'll take you to see the latest movie that just released. Just... don't question where he's getting money from, he won't answer you.

Toby is the least romantic of the three since he doesn't have the best experience with romance. He's not entirely sure what classifies as a date because he enjoys any time he gets to spend with you, be it helping you bake something or just sitting in silence with you.

Hoodie is definitely the first one to realize he's in love with you. It's not something that he's immediately aware of. I picture him just hearing you laugh one day and having the quiet realization of, 'oh, i'm in love with you.'

Toby is the second, but he denies his feelings. Not because he doesn't want to love you, he's just worried. He doesn't allow himself close enough to people to fall in love, but now he has and it's something he's trying to adjust to.

Masky realizes he loves you last. Definitely see him being the type to be drifting off into sleep only for you to then pop into his mind and for him to suddenly be wide awake like 'holy shit i'm in love.'

The way they love you is actually pretty similar. They're all rather quiet when it comes to love, though from an outside perspective, it's very obvious that Hoodie is in love with you while Toby and Masky sorta keep it under wraps.

One of them is almost always with you. Being proxies makes them busy, so they aren't always able to spend time with you but one of them always tries to make sure that they're with you. Just in case.

Slender is kinda mildly annoyed by the relationship, but it isn't one to judge. So long as it doesn't get in the way of their duties, it could care less about whether or not they date some outsider like you.

SHIP.

How the hell did this happen? That's what everyone thinks whenever they see the three together.

None of them ever thought they would be dating each other, let alone enter a poly relationship. I mean, everyone sorta thought that maybe Masky and Hoodie had a thing going on since they're so buddy-buddy with each other.

But Masky and Toby actually genuinely hated each other in the beginning, it's absolutely baffling that the two are dating each other now.

I definitely think Hoodie and Masky get together first. Classic best friends to lovers.

And I think Masky totally falls for Toby first. Something something he finds himself gradually accepting Toby's presence more often and that acceptance sorta blends into a strange feeling of affection that turns into the realization of 'ah fuck.'

Masky awkwardly going up to Hoodie like, 'babe, i got a crush on the new guy.' and Hoodie is just like 'wow, you're just now realizing?'

I definitely think at this point, Hoodie doesn't really have any particular romantic feelings toward Toby, but he isn't upset that Masky has a crush on him either, y'know? Like... he and Masky are both very much aware that they're poly, so there is no awkward tension or big argument. Just silent acknowledgment and encouragement.

But Masky is like way too awkward around Toby now, so it's definitely Hoodie who gets a feel on whether or not Toby might reciprocate those feelings. And lo and behold, he does.

Hoodie had to be the one to confess his feelings to Masky before they started dating, and he knows damn well that neither Toby nor Masky will confess their feelings to each other, and while it's adorable to watch the silent pining, it's also equally as painful so he would literally just sit them both down and be like 'you guys like each other. discuss.' like it's some sort of debate.

Very awkward confessions between the two a lot of 'i fear getting close to people because i've already lost so much and i really can't lose you too'

Bada bing, bada boom. Masky and Hoodie are dating, Toby and Masky are dating, and Hoodie and Toby are... testing the waters, currently.

If even one of them has a bad day, all plans get cancelled and their all huddling up in one of their rooms and putting on awful movies and maybe cuddling a bit who knows.

Hoodie, introducing Masky to someone: This is my boyfriend, and this is my boyfriend's boyfriend, Toby. (and then he vaguely gestures to Masky and Toby, nd Masky his holding Toby's hand and Toby is just staring. Blankly.)

There's a lot of communication that goes on, and there are some days where they struggle a bit but they make things work.

#anon #ticci toby x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #ticci toby x masky x hoodie #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x you #masky x you #hoodie x you #creepypasta x you #scheduled.#icb i only remembered to tag tht like... 30 minutes after it posted lol

196 notes · View notes

captain-mj · 14 days

Note

Pray tell us those streamer au thoughts?

I realized in retrospect that the word I was looking for was youtuber, not necessarily streamer... oops? I hope this is still fine! I explained what I think they'd cover and how they meet

Ghost: He's a cryptid/urban legend youtuber. He often goes to these places and take the most ominous videos known to man. Often includes him perching in places he shouldn't be while in full tac gear. He openly talks about being in the military but is super cagey about further details. Plays some horror games and he starts talking to Soap and Roach through Dead By Daylight

Soap: A gaming youtuber. Actually does stream. Mostly does super long games in one go because he knows if he sets it down he'll never pick it back up. Plays a ton of multiplayer with friends which is how he started talking to Ghost. Openly thirsts after him but in a fun way for the audience. Ghost can't tell if it's real or not.

Roach: Silent youtuber. Mostly posts his own bugs and stays in his lane. Speed runs Terraria whenever his views drop. Has a running bit about having an onlyfans.

Price: Teaches basic self defense. Is the chilliest of all of them. Since he's canonically a stoner now, he's stoned in half of them. Will occasionally join Ghost on his adventures cause they knew each other in the military. Is Simply Built Better.

Gaz: A commentary youtuber, but the kind that is mostly just explaining what's going on, not the kind to fill it with his own opinions. Occasionally features Alex for the ones over the CIA.

Graves: Is a commentary youtuber that does fill it with his own opinions. Has pulled a gun out on screen before Moist Critical style.

Alex: Critics and debunks conspiracy theories. Especially one's connected with certain pipelines. Ghost and him have worked together multiple times and there is ship content of both of them.

Laswell: Doesn't have a youtube channel.

Alejandro: Plays horror games and dating sims. Has a super long series over boyfriend dungeon. Openly talks about his husband constantly.

Rodolfo: Cozy video games. Is stupidly organized about everything. Will not mention he's married.

Valeria: True Crime. She talks about certain female criminals with a little too much love.

Núñez: Valeria's Ryan.

Farah: The obvious answer is over her cause but I never want to go with the obvious answer. She's a ghost hunter. Get fucked.

Oz: Posts coding videos and is very funny. Lowkey like code bullet (god I hope he never sees this)

Velikan: Long think pieces that leave viewers and fundamentally changed.

Mila: Parkour and sight seeing. Breaks into abandoned places. No one knows her, Graves and Oz are friends until they found out they're platonically all living together.

Reyes: Work out youtuber. Shamelessly posts thirst traps.

Chuy: Another cryptid/urban legend youtuber. He focuses more on Mexican culture than Ghost. Refuses to play video games on stream.

#Johnny “Soap” Mactavish #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Rodolfo Parra #Alejandro Vargas #John Price #Kyle “Gaz” Garrick #Phillip Graves #Valeria Garza #Farah Karim #Alex Keller #Kate Laswell #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare II #Call of Duty #Gary Roach Sanderson

115 notes · View notes

here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

heartless (explicit)

genre: pwp, smut, exes hooking up - a part of the jeju shore collab !

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: after a wild summer at the shore where he made more than a few mistakes, jungkook is ready to remind you why you always take him back.

word count: 7.4k

other works in this collab: You DTF? by @haliiimede and Himbo Hours by @gimmethatagustd

contains: explicit sexual content!!! set in 2009, member POV, established relationship (exes), mentions of infidelity, mentions of alcohol and drug use, jk blows a stranger (definitely not anyone we know 👀) in a bar bathroom, some good ol' fashioned 2009 biphobia lmao, EXCESSIVE use of petnames (kookie and jagi) like it's really too much, cunnilingus, fingering, a lot of pussy appreciation bc of who i am as a person, they make a sex tape 🎥 (reader films jk going down on her), hot tub sex, jk makes reader come with a hot tub jet, unprotected sex (smh 😔), nothing in this fic is sexually healthy pls do not replicate, multiple orgasms/overstim, a lil bit of marking, jk is toxic and i kind of love him oops, don't fight me for the ending

A/N: it's here it's here it's here!!!!! happy jeju shore day 🥰 i'm so excited to share this one with y'all, it really was supposed to be a joke thing like ~sammi and ron vibes~ yknow and then idk.... this fic ran away with me,, like tell me why i ship kookie and jagi lowkey 🥺 over here like maybe one day they'll work it out 🥺 ANYWAY uhhh heed the warnings, this one's a doozy, have fun, stay hydrated 💦 and make sure you check out jai and hali's fics toooooo for your full ~weekend at the shore~ !!!! love you babes, thank you as always for reading 😘💜

read on AO3 !

“Shit, gonna come.”

Thank god, Jungkook thinks to himself. This guy has some impressive stamina, which he’d normally appreciate, but he’s in a bad mood tonight. Getting his throat fucked hasn’t helped like he thought it might.

Even though the guy is cute, with a big body and a sweet set of dimples, Jungkook is just going through the motions. He’s annoyed by the way the bathroom floor is digging into his knees, the way his jaw is starting to lock up with how long he’s been at this.

He shuts his eyes, remembers to breathe through his nose, and then a hand presses hard to the back of his head and his mouth starts to fill, bitter and heady. Careful not to spill a drop, Jungkook keeps his suction tight through the cock-twitches of this guy’s— he didn’t get his name, because he really doesn’t care to know it— orgasm, until he finally feels the fingers in his hair release.

Jungkook gets to his feet and stumbles to the sink, gripping the porcelain edge while he spits out the glossy strings of a stranger’s load. He’s not a swallower, because he’s not gay. He’s just good at sucking dick— and Jungkook likes doing things he’s good at.

“Appreciate it!” The stranger’s voice echoes over his shoulder, followed by the sound of the bathroom door swinging on its hinges and slamming shut, leaving him alone with a sink full of cum.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jungkook stares himself down in the mirror, runs a hand over his hair to make sure it didn’t get fucked up from that guy’s truly obscenely large hand. Thankfully his extra-hold gel seems to be doing its job.

At the realization that his teeth are grinding together, he presses a knuckle into the hinge of his jaw, trying to encourage it to relax. He’s been clenching all night, and he’s not sure if he should blame the six redbull vodkas he’s thrown back or the keybumps of something he did off the bar: it was either coke or molly.

Coke, he thinks. He’s on edge.

He can’t shake this feeling, like he’s a wild animal trapped in a cage, as he pushes the bathroom door open and presses his way back into the mass of bodies in the club. He’s gone out every night this week looking for something, but he can’t find it. It’s not at the bottom of a bottle or in white powder snorted through a rolled-up hundred. And it’s certainly not in any of the random strangers he’s taken in the bathroom or the back alley or on the hood of his car in the parking lot.

He misses you.

It’s been almost three weeks since you last came around, and even then, it was only to scream at him while you dug your clothes out of his dresser and threw your spare toothbrush in the trash can. All because someone left you that stupid fucking note detailing the night Jungkook went blackout, where the last thing he remembers is Jimin convincing him to switch to Malibu.

If what Jungkook’s been told is the truth, he apparently started a bar fight and had a foursome that night— just, unfortunately, with three people who weren’t you. He kind of wishes he could remember at least one of those.

Fuck this, he thinks to himself, surrounded by trashed club-goers on all sides, bodies slick with sweat and tanning oil, the floor sticky from spilled drinks and probably a few other things. Jungkook knows exactly where he wants to be, and it’s between your thighs, not at one of the seven shitty clubs he and his hyungs have been rotating through all summer.

Figuring Taehyung and Jimin are fine to handle their own shit, he shoves through the crowd a little more aggressively than he needs to, and definitely knocks one drunk girl flat on her ass without bothering to look back.

The slight chill in the air when he steps outside is a welcome relief from the stale heat of the club. It’s the last weekend before everyone packs up and heads for the mainland, which means he’s running out of chances to see you, to try and convince you to get the fuck over this latest bump in the road and take him back.

Jungkook knows he loves you, he’s sure of it. He wants to marry you someday, get a little house in the suburbs, pop out a few kids, all that shit. But right now he’s young, and he just wants to party and have fun. He doesn’t understand why you care so much.

Driving home with the windows down, going a cool 80 in a 40, he grips the wheel with one hand while the other digs his Razr phone out of the pocket of his ripped jeans. He hits the first speed dial where your number is saved and has to call three times before you finally answer. The fact that you picked up at all means he has a chance tonight.

“What, Kookie?!”

Probably the greeting he should’ve anticipated, but his stomach still flips at the nickname. You’re the only one allowed to use it: he’s strictly Jungkook to most, JK to his hyungs.

He fidgets absentmindedly with the car lights, the AC, the button for the windows. This is always the hard part, talking about feelings and shit. But it’s what you want, so he’ll do it for you.

“Wanna see you,” he murmurs into the phone, as if he needs to keep his voice down so he won’t get caught being soft.

“Fuck off,” you snap instantly, but you don’t hang up.

Jungkook’s played this game enough times to know what it means: he’s got a rapidly shrinking window of opportunity to say the right thing. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, trying to buy himself some time. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” You huff.

Stopped at a red light, Jungkook tips his head back against the car seat and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts. “Don’t be mean to me. I already told you I’m sorry, it’s not fair for you to hold this shit over my head.”

“I’m not holding anything over your head, Kookie, you fucking cheated—“

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light changes. “Yeah, I fucking know, okay? But it’s the last weekend. Is this really how you want to leave it?”

The silence on the other end of the line is more than enough to answer his question.

“Just… come over. Let me see you. Please?” Jungkook grimaces, embarrassed to be begging. He wouldn’t do it for anybody else.

Gravel crunches under the tires of his car as he pulls into the driveway, and he’s only sure the call didn’t disconnect when he hears the way you sigh softly on the other end. It’s a sigh he knows well.

“Fine.”

You don’t say anything else, and neither does Jungkook. He doesn’t know what else there is to say, or why any of this has to be such a big fucking deal. But he waits, until finally you hang up, and then he flips his phone shut. Girls.

Once inside, he makes quick work of getting everything together: sweeping the empty beer cans on the kitchen counter into the trash, spraying on a little more Hugo Boss, a mouthwash rinse to rid himself of the lingering taste of cum. The place you rented for the summer is just down the road, so it’s as he’s spitting in the sink for the second time tonight that he hears you bang loudly on the front door.

Time to turn on the charm, Jungkook thinks to himself, and then he exits the bathroom and reaches a hand between his shoulder-blades to pull his shirt off over his head. He drops it to the floor of his bedroom before heading down the hallway to let you in.

Jungkook swings the door wide and leans one arm on the frame as he takes you in. You’re standing on his stoop, arms crossed angrily over your pink crop top, belly button piercing glinting in the porch light. He smiles fondly, remembering the summer you got it done, the way you squeezed his hand so tight when the needle went through that he nearly lost feeling.

It was nice then, the way you acted like you really needed him. You used to be so sweet. He wonders when that changed.

It’s been too long. “Hi, jagi,” he says, and it comes out softer than he would’ve liked. It makes him sound weak.

“Fuck off. Answering the fucking door shirtless. You did that on purpose.” You roll your eyes as you brush past him to walk inside.

He turns sideways, purposefully taking up most of the doorway so you have to squeeze through, and when you do, his fingers hook in the belt-loops of your jeans to pull you closer.

“Just like you wore these?” There’s no way you don’t know what those white low-rise jeans do to him. Jungkook always tells you they make your ass look so fat, and even though you complain every time, he means it as an honest compliment.

Clearly still trying to act pissed off, you pop your gum at him, but he knows better than to believe that you’re really mad. If you were, you wouldn’t have come here. And you certainly wouldn’t be looping your arms around his neck and tilting your head up like that, moving so close that he can feel the heat of your breath ghosting over him.

“Maybe. What are you gonna do about it?” You purr, like you don’t already know the answer.

Jungkook’s lips find yours at the same time his hands slide around your hips, fingers sinking into the denim stretched tight over your ass. You squeak a little at how hard he grabs, and he takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue into your mouth, deftly retrieving the wad of gum from between your teeth. He pulls back with a cocky grin and spits it halfway across the yard.

“How about you come inside and find out?”

“Jesus.” You make a face when you step in first, leaving your Gucci flip flops in the front hall, and Jungkook turns back to shut the door behind him as he follows you. “You guys trashed this fuckin’ place.”

He frowns at your utter disregard for his cleaning efforts, but he follows your gaze and, well, you’re not wrong. He probably could’ve done something about all the half-empty liquor bottles, the overflowing ashtrays, the sink full of dishes. But right now he really doesn’t give a shit.

Jungkook closes the distance between you again, arms slipping around your waist from behind, head ducking down to nuzzle in the crook of your neck, to make you squirm the way he likes. “This is the bachelor life. We need a woman’s touch,” he murmurs against your skin, and you scoff a laugh.

“I’m serious,” Jungkook protests. He pauses to suck a mark into your skin, only stopping when he manages to coax a soft whimper out of you. “Why don’t you and I get a place together next summer? I’ll tell Jimin and Tae they’re on their own.”

You hum softly, in the way that tells him you want that, too. But you’re still playing coy, even as your hands slide over his arms locked tight around you. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Maybe I should do some convincing,” Jungkook’s lips brush over the shell of your ear, and you wriggle out of his grasp, crossing into the living room and tossing your purse on the couch before dropping down unceremoniously next to it.

The wild animal feeling hasn’t dissipated— when he follows after you, Jungkook can’t help but feel like a predator stalking his prey.

It’s probably fucked up, but he likes the chase.

Leaning back on your hands, you gaze up at him, jeans sunk low enough for Jungkook to see the pink straps of your thong that peek out over the curve of your hip. The visual makes his own pants start to feel tight.

You tilt your head expectantly. “I’m listening.”

“I wasn’t gonna talk,” he admits with a smirk, standing over you, one leg teasing your thighs apart.

You reach forward to trail a hand down the defined lines of his stomach— the gym has been good to him this summer— and blink your long lashes innocently. “Will you at least use your mouth?”

“Well, now I know what you came over for,” Jungkook growls. His hands drop to brace on the back of the couch behind you, arm muscles flexing as he cages you in, and he leans down to capture you in a heady kiss. He missed it all: the way you smell, how soft your lips are, the way you still taste like spearmint. Your needy little noises when he licks his tongue into your mouth and the way you suck so diligently on it. You’re always so good for him, always so pretty when you come back.

“Take your pants off, jagi,” he breathes into your mouth, shifting to grip your neck with one hand as he kisses you again. He can feel a soft whine in your throat under his palm when you do as you’re told.

Jungkook pulls back once your jeans are kicked all the way off, knees digging into the carpet as he settles between your legs. His biceps wrap under your thighs and he tugs your bare ass to the edge of the couch, pausing to slip a finger under the thin string of your thong and gently snap it against your skin.

You spread your legs wider for him, leaning back against the cushion. “Don’t tease,” you huff. The desperation in your voice just turns him on more.

“Impatient,” Jungkook notes with a smirk. “And I haven’t even told you what I want yet.”

“What you want?” Your attempt at sass is undercut by the moan Jungkook works out of you when he sucks another hickey into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He pulls back with a final lick over the mark that sends a shiver rippling through you, makes your nipples stiffen against the thin fabric of your crop top and your hips tilt up instinctively for more.

His eyes find yours again. “Let’s make a movie.”

“Kookie,” you whine, and Jungkook cups a hand over the front of your panties, rubbing circles into the thin material, then gently squeezing your pussy lips together to help argue his case. He can feel the muscles in your thighs twitch in response— always so sensitive.

“Come on,” he murmurs, pushy. “I know you have that camera in your bag.” You take your Sony digital camera with you everywhere, like it’s a third limb, like you believe nothing really happens unless it’s documented on Facebook.

Jungkook reaches for the strap of your Coach purse and drops it between your spread thighs. “I want you to film me while I go down on you. That way you can watch it back when you need to remember why you keep me around.” He punctuates the request with a wink, because he knows you can’t say no to him. That fact is made evident by how quickly you dig in to retrieve the little pink camera before tossing your bag aside again.

“I don’t watch porn, Kookie,” you scoff, already turning it on and fiddling with the settings. “I’m not nasty like you.”

“You’ll watch this one,” Jungkook corrects, hands pressing on your thighs to encourage them to spread further. Your skin is smooth and warm under his touch as he slides his fingertips back up to the line of your panties. “Now shhh. The only thing I wanna hear talk is this pussy.”

When the telltale beep indicates you’ve started recording, Jungkook stares pointedly into the camera with a cocky smirk. “Missed you, jagi,” he says, both to the you on the other side of the camera and the you who will watch this in the future, when you inevitably get mad about some dumb shit and break up with him again. As if you could ever really stay away.

His eye contact doesn’t falter as he licks a long, slow stripe up the front of your panties, taking his time, tongue laid flat to fully soak through the fabric. When he leans back, one hand snakes between your thighs to tug the damp material to the side, tattooed fingers pressing into a V to spread your folds apart. It always makes you squirm, but he loves to admire you like this. He’s not ashamed to like pussy.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, reaching the hand that isn’t parting your pussy lips up to beckon for the camera. “Let me film. Won’t get your face in it.”

You hand it over silently, clearly already too turned on to make a big show of protesting. Jungkook turns the lens on your pussy, holds it up close as he traces two fingers over your folds, keeping the pressure light enough that you squirm and flutter cutely beneath it.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs when he teases his touch down to your entrance. There’s already enough slickness there to earn him an audible wet noise as he goes, his pattern a slow, lazy circle. He presses a finger in just to drag it back out, and a thin, glossy string of arousal comes with it. “Your pussy loves me too much. That’s why you can’t stay mad.”

Jungkook paints the wetness he pulled out of you up to stroke over the hood of your clit, and it’s enough to edge your breathing with shy sounds. You bring your palm up to your mouth, clearly trying to keep quiet, and it only encourages him to dip back in for more. He uses two fingers this time, slipping past your entrance into the tight velvet heat of your cunt, always so warm and willing for him.

You sigh at the loss when he pulls back, more arousal drooling out of you to chase after his fingers. Jungkook loves to play with you like this: you squeak when he squishes the whole of your cunt up in his hand, reveling in the noise of your slick folds pressing together, in the way your pussy’s gone needy for him. All swollen and puffy, all soft, dripping juice like ripe fruit.

He works up some saliva in his mouth and lets it dribble down over your slit between his fingers, then follows it with another pass of his tongue.

“Oh my fucking god,” you whimper.

“You know I’ll always treat it right, jagiya.” Jungkook purrs, releasing his grip on your pussy lips to pinch at your clit while he passes the camera back. “But let me show you in case you forget.”

He firmly tugs your panties down your thighs and leaves them to dangle off one ankle before guiding your legs to hook over his shoulders. After a final glance up to make sure you’re still filming, he leans in to properly trace his tongue through your slick folds, lapping at the arousal pooled at your entrance while his thumb brushes over your clit to work up more.

Jungkook’s brows pinch together and he grunts in appreciation of your taste, thick and familiar; he’s gone too long without it. He’s eating properly now, alternating between dragging his tongue flat and flicking it gently over your clit in the way that makes you gasp and shove your hips up towards his mouth, rough and wild, no good-girl pretense left in you.

His arm locks across your stomach to keep you where he wants you, and he pulls back with a smack of his lips and a cheeky smile for the camera.

“Relax. I’ve got you.”

This is the part he loves: when you start to come undone, worked up enough to be responsive to every little touch. Jungkook licks broad, showy stripes up to your clit, eyes fixed on you through the lens, enjoying the way your soft sighs blossom into full-out moans, matching pace to the steady rhythm of his tongue.

“Kookie,” you groan, “nnh, fuck— f-feels so good.”

He hums a laugh against your folds, and the vibrations make you cry out so he does it some more, lips closing to suck firmly at your clit while his mouth buzzes sweet, low notes around it. You arch up beneath him and your moan scrapes rough against the back of your throat, desperate.

It was a stroke of genius to have you film it, Jungkook thinks absentmindedly to himself. Documented proof that nobody else could ever do you this good.

“Fuck.” Your voice brings him back to attention as he continues to pulse suction against your clit, tongue fluttering out again to lap at the sensitive bud. The sounds you make are slightly muffled by the manicured hand you’ve clapped over your mouth, but you’re so loud now that he can still hear every word. “Oh god, Kookie— I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck, ohhhh—”

Your hips tilt up as your orgasm overtakes you and he shoves them back down, practically growling as he forces you to stay there and take it. He can feel your legs shake, the way your bare heels kick listlessly against his back as he sucks and licks you through the peak of your climax. Your pussy throbs in his mouth and drips down his chin like honey, with a taste so good he doesn’t want to stop.

“God fucking dammit,” you moan, and he keeps going until you bring one foot up to press into his shoulder to push him away. “Kookie, p-please, it’s too much.”

With a final swipe of his tongue, Jungkook pulls back, wiping at his chin with one hand. “You’re sensitive, jagi, I know.”

But there’s a reason you haven’t stopped filming, and it’s one you both know well. It was back when you first started dating, when you could never keep your clothes on around each other and barely left his room, that Jungkook learned your body expertly enough to figure it out: after you come once, your pussy gets so sensitive that he can easily work you up to a second orgasm, even from just the curl of his fingers against your g-spot.

He hopes no one else will ever get the chance to know you like this.

You barely manage to stifle another sob and almost drop the camera when he slips two fingers into your cunt, pressing to the hilt to feel how swollen-tender you are inside. Your walls squeeze so tight around him that his cock twitches in his pants with jealousy.

Sliding one of your legs off his shoulder, he presses your thigh firmly into the couch and groans a little at the way you spread wide for him, glossed folds all flushed and pretty. It gives him a head rush to watch his hand work you open, to see the thick white cream of your arousal paint his fingers each time he pulls back just to thrust in again.

You’re wet enough now that the sound is obscene, a juicy squelch every time he fucks into you, and Jungkook can’t help but smile. He glances up. “You’re dripping on my couch, jagiya.”

You can only whimper in response.

“You want to come again?”

You nod desperately until you manage to find the word. “Please.”

“Anything for you.” Jungkook winks for the camera as he starts to flex his fingers to pet over the ridges of your front wall. You keen as he puts more weight into his strokes, your free hand reaching to cling to him and dig your nails into his bicep. He’s too keyed up to feel it, can’t focus on anything that isn’t your pussy squeezing him like a fucking vice grip, tight and hot and soft inside.

You’re past the point of being able to talk, reduced to breathless moans— “ah, ah, nnh”— because Jungkook knows exactly what to do to take you apart all over again.

This time he makes no move to stop you when your hips buck up. Instead he lets you let go, lets you fuck yourself on his hand, fluttering around his fingers and trembling all over as you start to come.

Jungkook goes a little slack-jawed watching you and momentarily forgets about the video, looking over the camera to see the expression on your face as he works you through your second peak. He loves the way you grip tight to him with your nails and your pussy, like he’s special, like you need him.

Your knees reflexively pull towards each other as your cunt-pulses slow and you finally start to come down, thighs clamping in around Jungkook’s wrist to still the motions of his hand. When he hears the whir of the camera shutter retracting and sees you toss it aside on the couch, he finally relents. You open yourself up enough that he can slip his fingers out to suck the excess off.

“What the fuck,” you finally manage as you collapse against the couch cushions, sounding beyond dazed.

Jungkook presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, trying to hide his smug smirk, and gets to his feet. As he watches your head tip back and your eyes flutter closed, he can’t help but wonder if you got what you came for. If this is the last he’ll see of you until god knows when.

Fuck that. He’s not letting you go that easy.

In one swift move Jungkook leans forward, slipping an arm between your back and the couch and sweeping the other under your knees. He tosses you over his shoulder— completely naked from the waist down— like it’s nothing at all, delivering a swift slap to your ass with the hand that isn’t wrapped around your hips.

“Kookie!” You try to sound mad but the laugh that bubbles up gives it away. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Come on,” Jungkook replies as he carries you across the living room, impervious to the way your hands claw at his back. “It’s a perfect night for the hot tub.”

“I didn’t bring a fucking bikini,” you sputter, feet kicking softly in the air. “Put me down.”

“That’s okay,” he reassures you as his free hand easily slides the back door open and he takes you over the threshold. “Tae and Jimin won’t be back for a while. It’s just us.”

Tae and Jimin have also already seen you naked… probably dozens of times at this point, if Jungkook had to estimate, but he doesn’t mention that part. Not when he’s trying to get his girl back.

Instead he crosses the yard to set you down on the hot tub deck, your legs dangling over the side, and makes quick work of stripping out of his jeans and boxers, half-hard cock hanging heavy between his legs. He hopes it might give you some incentive to stay a little longer.

When he turns back to face you, your bottom lip is jutting out in a bratty little pout as your feet swing aimlessly off the deck. It makes him want to fucking ruin you.

Jungkook steps forward to close the distance, thumb running down your mouth to pet over your lip. “Put this back in your mouth and take your top off, jagi.” His voice is low, his mouth ghosting over yours.

Your bare foot knocks into his shin, but it only hurts a little. “Make me.”

He can’t help but smirk at your attitude. It’s cute. He likes you feisty. “That’s a lot of sass for someone who was just screaming my name.”

You smack a hand against his chest with a play-scowl. “Shut up.”

He sweeps your arms behind your back before you can do it again, easily enclosing both of your wrists in one of his hands. “Why are you always so mean to me, huh?”

“Oh, I’m mean?” You look like you’re going to say more, but he pushes your crop top up with his free hand and watches the way it makes you shiver, your nipples tightening in the cool night air.

“You are,” Jungkook says softly. “And I’m just trying to love you.”

The same hand cups one of your breasts, and he ducks down to suck the stiff peak of it into his mouth, enjoying the airy little moan he coaxes out of you and the way you arch up into him. His grip on your wrists doesn’t falter as he pulls off, switching to roll your other nipple under the pad of his thumb.

“You should get these pierced,” he remarks, gaze shifting between your tits as he imagines silver barbells studded through the buds of them. “I’ll get one too. We can go together. Next summer.” His eyes find yours in time to watch your expression soften, just barely. It’s enough.

“Yeah, sure,” you deadpan, wiggling a little in his grasp. “Until you decide to stick your dick in some strange and fuck everything up again.”

Jungkook sighs. You’re fucking relentless. “I don’t want to talk about that. Can’t it just be us?”

Your reaction isn’t what he expects: he’s surprised to see the fight go out of you, to see how defeated you look as you lean in and press your forehead against his chest. Even your wrists go slack in his hand, and he releases his grip.

“That’s what I’m saying, Kookie,” you murmur. “That’s all I want.”

Jungkook’s fingers sweep under the line of your jaw. “I know.”

He tilts your head up for a kiss, and your hands come to cup his face, as if to pull him closer— to hold him in place so he can’t run away.

It’s the way it always is: he’s not going to promise he’ll change, and he knows you’re not dumb enough to ask him to. He can’t be anything but what he is, but he can hope you’ll love him anyway.

Your thumb strokes over Jungkook’s cheek as he pulls back, and he smiles a little. “Will you please get in the hot tub?”

Jungkook settles into the water first, sighing dramatically loud at the welcome warmth, and you giggle as you peel your top off before following after. When you slip in politely across from him, he grabs you by the ankle with a growl, and you don’t fight as he pulls you close again.

His hands guide your thighs apart to straddle him, so your knees rest on either side of the ledge he’s seated on. Between the heat of the water and your body on top of him, he’s dizzyingly hard in seconds.

The two of you make out like teenagers, more tongue than anything else, doing your best to hump and grind against each other despite the water slightly inhibiting your motions. Jungkook can’t stop touching your tits, obsessed with the weight of them in his hands. His fingers pinch and tug at your nipples to make you whine into his open mouth again and again, and his cock twitches in response every time.

“K-Kookie,” you finally manage to groan, nails dragging down his back as he presses sloppy kisses, all tongue and teeth, to the slope of your neck. “Need it, please. Your cock.”

His mouth finds yours again, and he bites down on your bottom lip with a smile before pulling back to answer. “You’ll get it, jagi. Wanna try something first.”

You whine a little and he gives a teasing pinch to your inner thigh, shifting you off his lap so he can stand up.

“Come here.”

Jungkook’s hands slide to your waist when you get to your feet, and the added weightlessness from the water makes it even easier for him to move you where he wants you. He guides you to spin so your back is flush with his chest, then encourages you to kneel on the ledge again, pushing your legs further apart.

“Can you stay like this for me?” He murmurs in your ear. You look up at him over your shoulder with wide, shining eyes, reflecting back the blue glow of the mood lights filtered through the water, and you nod.

As he ducks down to kiss you, Jungkook’s hand fumbles blindly against the edge of the tub until he finds the button he’s looking for. When he presses it once, the jets roar to life, including the one positioned right between your spread thighs.

You gasp into his mouth, and Jungkook wraps his arms tight around you to keep you in place, letting you collapse back into him as the jet pulses onto your pussy. “Oh my god, oh fuck, Kookie.”

“Feels good?” He murmurs in your ear, and you can only whimper and nod, hips circling against the stream of water, stimulated past the point of coherency. Your eyes practically roll back in your head. “Yeah, you look good like this.”

Jungkook can’t help himself now— his cock aches from lack of attention, and he starts to grind into you from behind, rutting himself against the small of your back, the curve of your ass. His hands grab at the soft skin of your thighs for leverage, and he can feel the way you’re shaking, already close, your breathing going ragged.

“K-Kookie—” you whimper. “I’m— fuck, g-gonna—”

“Want you to come for me,” he groans, tongue darting out to trace the shell of your ear. “Come for me like this so I can fuck another one out of you.”

Your arms scramble back behind you for something to keep you grounded, nails scratching and digging into Jungkook’s shoulders as your orgasm starts to crest.

He keeps rocking his hips into you, which only serves to move you closer to the jet and make the pressure that much stronger. You’re moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and Jungkook has to grip your hips to keep them still as you come fast and hard, shaking apart in his arms.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Jungkook talks you through it, petting broad strokes down your thighs that make you jolt under his touch. “How was that, jagiya?”

“Fuuuuuck.” Your answer is a soft whine, and he can feel the aftershocks still rolling through your body. You shift to pull your thighs together, shivering all-over, and Jungkook releases his grip on them, hands moving up to squeeze at your tits while you recover. He can feel the way your heart is racing beneath his palm.

Your eyes slowly blink open, heavy-lidded, and you start to untangle your arms from around Jungkook’s shoulders. His back stings a little— he’s sure he’ll have pretty pink scratch marks to remember you by.

He presses a kiss to your temple, chaste in spite of how fucking hard and horny he is. “Love you. Stand up for me?”

Your legs are still shaking, so Jungkook helps haul you to your feet. Taehyung is always telling him he shouldn’t actually be penetrating girls in the water, something about vaginal health, so he has you bend at the waist to lean over the edge of the hot tub. The arch in your back when you press your ass up towards him makes his cock start to leak against his stomach.

Your head lolls forward to drop down on your forearms, and he laughs a little at how fucked out you already are as he gives your ass a firm slap. “Stay just like that. Face down ass up.”

You wait patiently as he climbs out of the water to search the deck. It only takes a few seconds for him to spot what he’s looking for: the bottle of lube Jimin’s always leaving out “just in case”. Jungkook makes a mental note to buy him a thank-you shot.

“God damn,” he murmurs appreciatively when he returns to you, rubbing three fingers slicked in thick silicone lube along your puffed-up slit before pushing them into the velvet heat of your pussy. “Wanna come in you so bad.”

“Please, Kookie,” you whimper.

Jungkook withdraws his hand to squirt more lube into his palm and fist it over his length, hissing a little at the sensation and the squelching noise his hand makes when he fucks into it. Tossing the bottle over the edge, his hands come to frame your hips, and he can’t help but moan as he starts to grind the head of his dick against your folds. “Fuck.”

You push your hips back on him, all wrecked and needy, your voice wrung-out. “Fuck me, Kookie, please— wanna take your cock, wanna feel it.”

It’s so hot when you beg for him. With another soft noise, Jungkook lines himself up to your entrance and gives you what you need: the whole of his thick cock sliding into your grip-tight pussy, slow for the delicious stretch of it, so you can feel every inch until he’s pressed in to the hilt.

It feels the way it always does. You were made to fit together.

You whine into the crook of your elbow, your walls already fluttering, split open and filled up and so sensitive. Jungkook leans forward, hands bracing the edge of the tub on either side of you, until his chest is flush with your back and the tip of his cock presses into your g-spot.

“Oh shit, right there, Kookie,” you gasp, like he doesn’t already know.

Jungkook grunts, nipping at the skin of your shoulder, and he starts to grind his hips against you, rubbing his cock into your g-spot over and over, until your legs threaten to give out.

Your pussy feels so good, the little moans you’re making in time with his motions are so pretty, it’s like he can’t get enough of you. He brings a hand up to run over every inch of your skin he can reach, all of it smooth and gorgeous under his fingertips— he really can’t stop touching you.

Maybe those bumps he did back at the bar were molly, he thinks absentmindedly.

“So fucking sexy,” he groans as he strokes a little harder, hips rolling fluidly. “So fucking beautiful.”

“F-fuck, Kookie,” you whimper, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts, and you let out a choked moan when he starts to pound more firmly in response. “Ah, fuck— don’t fucking stop, oh god—”

Jungkook hooks his arm across your chest, and his hand gripped tight to your shoulder gives him more leverage to hit deeper. Being squeezed so close by your walls is nearly overwhelming, your pussy all hot and wet inside, it’s like he can barely fit. “God, you’re so fucking tight, jagi.”

“F-feels so guh— good, nnh,” you can hardly get the words out, and Jungkook can feel the way your whole body is starting to shake.

He can’t stop himself now, not when it’s this good. “Missed you so much, jagiya. Wanna marry you, wanna put a baby in you.” His cock twitches hard, enough that you whimper a little, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“Come with me, jagi,” he grunts. “I want to feel you come again.”

“C-can’t,” you gasp, but he knows you can, can tell by the way you’re gripping around him that you’re already close.

The clapping of skin on skin echoes out as Jungkook fucks deliberately into your g-spot, no longer holding back, and you cling to the edge of the tub for dear life as your muscles start to contract. “Oh fuck, Kookie, fuck, fuck, I’m coming, I—”

With a loud cry, you collapse forward, knees nearly buckling as your orgasm hits you. Jungkook is helpless to the way your pussy pulses around him, like it was made to milk his cock. He tips his head back with a throaty groan as he comes with you, comes for what feels like an eternity, thick white ropes spilling into your cunt with every dick-twitch of his orgasm.

“Oh my god,” he groans, working the last of it out with a few shallow strokes, his breathing harsh and ragged. “So fucking good.”

You whimper softly with your head dropped down into your arms, your pussy still shuddering around him.

Jungkook squeezes at the curve of your ass as he pulls out with a hiss of oversensitivity. Deciding not to bother with the mess running down your thighs, he takes a second to catch his breath, then climbs over the edge of the hot tub, wiping absentmindedly at the beads of sweat dotting his temples.

You’re clearly too fucked out to walk now, so he scoops you up to carry you across the deck and back inside through the open sliding door, bridal-style this time, cradled in his arms. He smiles at the way you’re still trembling a little, your face now buried in his chest.

He deposits you onto the couch, then stretches out next to you to prop up on one arm, admiring how your hair fans out beneath you as you curl into him with a small sigh.

It takes you a while to come to, lashes fluttering prettily over your cheeks, and when your eyes finally blink open, you sit up rather abruptly.

Jungkook brings a hand to your low back to rub gentle circles. “Hi, jagi.”

There’s a look on your face, like you’ve just realized where you are.

“Fuck, I should go,” you murmur, looking around until your gaze lands on your purse. You lean over to retrieve it and dig through the contents until you finally find your phone and slide it open. “My roommate is gonna figure it out if I don’t come back, and she’ll fucking kill me.”

“Stay with me,” Jungkook says softly.

“No, Jungkook,” you snap, and he can tell by the way you’ve dropped the nickname that he’s lost you for the night. “I shouldn’t have even fucking come here.”

He should probably take this more seriously, but he can’t help his instinctive reaction, or the smirk that pulls up the corner of his mouth. “But you did come. Four times, if my memory is correct.”

“Fuck off,” you grunt, already up and starting to pull on your clothes that are scattered across the floor of the living room. You briefly disappear outside to retrieve your shirt.

“Does this mean we’re not back together?” Jungkook tries when you slip in the door again.

You shoot him a look he’s all-too-familiar with. “Not at all.”

“Will you at least unblock me on Facebook?” He asks sweetly, and it’s a joke, but he can see from the way you roll your eyes that you’re clearly too pissed off to have any more fun tonight.

“Facebook?! That’s seriously what you care about right now?! You are so fucking shallow, Jungkook.” You grab your purse in a huff and storm off down the hallway.

Jungkook knows he should get up and fight for you, at the very least stop being horizontal on the couch— but honestly, he’s fucking tired. That’s the thing about your hot and cold shit: he knows you’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort right now or not. And it’s so much easier not to.

So he says nothing, hands folded behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling, and waits until he finally hears the front door slam behind you.

Whatever, he thinks to himself with a heavy exhale.

After a minute, he gets up and heads into the bathroom, turning the shower on extra-hot. It’s still early. He can rinse off, get dressed, go see what Tae and Jimin are up to. Maybe he can jump on a grenade for one of them and take his mind off things for a bit.

He unlocks his iPod, docked on the speaker he keeps on the bathroom shelf— can’t shower without a good playlist— and spins the wheel until he gets to one of his favorites, simply titled fuck bitches. The opening 808s of Kanye West kick on like a heartbeat as Jungkook steps under the spray of the shower-head.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts collab #jeju shore

1K notes · View notes