#probs no smut in this chapter

[auspicioustidings]

The Blood Druid

Blue Blood Part 3

Summary: Continuation of the Wild Prince/The War Duke. Your lack of knowledge about the birds and the bees finally gets revealed.

Words: 1.9k (look this was supposed to be longer but my keyboard keeps randomly double spacing so everything is taking way longer and typing is making me want to commit homicide so take this while I wait until I can get a new one)

CW: Very light smut

Price and Kyle had been ever so eager to continue and you had promptly shoved them out of your chambers. You were embarrassed and confused and you hated that your body kept so easily melting like that. What was happening to you? Had men always held such sway over a woman's body and you had never known before? It scared you that they could so easily make you feel like you had caught fire and you did not care to be saved. If it was so easy, why had nobody done it before?

You screamed into your pillow, just wanting to not be the only one not in on the joke. They had certainly seemed very pleased with themselves, seeming almost indulgent when they had left after you had somewhat angrily told them to. Like you were some misbehaving little pet that they found adorable. Like they hadn't just made you go boneless and dumb in front of a true Blood Druid. You had thought the moniker was just meant to scare, never in your wildest dreams did you think this Kingdom would be as reckless as to have one amongst them.

Ok, time to think. Time to stop being a child and figure out what was going on. You could do this, you were, are? You are a damn Duchess, you can read and write and for goodness sake you can think. 

You had been told that touching yourself between your legs was sinful, the Prince had been able to predict that from your reactions. So it had been apparent then that you had not done so? Did the feeling lessen then over time, allowing you to maintain some sort of wit about you if you were experienced enough? He had said, oh Gods, he had said something about a finger inside. You blushed crimson, feeling the pulse of that liquid heat again at the thought. Inside you. Like the Duke's tongue had been? Oh no, your body was already getting so worked up even remembering. 

You lay on the bed on your back, taking shuddering breaths and trying to find some sense of calm. Ok. All you needed do was practice. If you were more accustomed to the feeling, you would not be as taken off guard next time. You may not be able to emulate the feeling of a rough tongue against you, but you dipped your fingers down your body, slower and more tentative than they had been this morning. 

You were already so slick from what the Duke had done, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt your body begin to react again. You were languid now, viewing this as an exercise in patience the same way you did with learning Latin. That's what this was, learning. You would learn what this was.

Clit, he had called that little nub you rubbed over your clit. It was such a moody thing, so particular about how it liked to be teased. Not too hard, not too fast. But then as your blood started rushing it wanted more pressure and a faster pace. You found when you thought of the Prince kneeling by your bath or the Duke kneeling by the wall sparks fired inside you and your wetness grew. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took the pads of your fingers away from the sensitive bundle, feeling the loss instantly. You slid your fingers down to your entrance, rubbing and biting your lip as you felt the catch of your fingertips on the dripping hole. 

You only used your middle finger to press. The sponginess of your insides was a foreign texture and the feeling of being squeezed by the twitching walls made you withdraw. It frustrated you to tears, not understanding what you were doing. How did two strangers know your body so much better than you did? And why was there some suggestion that they needed to know it in order to ready you for your husband? The wave of feeling inadequate made all that delicious heat turn to ash in your mouth and you withdrew your hand, punching it down into the plush mattress beside you with a whine of frustration. 

There was a knock at the door which was novel in a way, nobody seemed to ever bother knocking. You fixed yourself, thinking that if it were the Prince or the Duke you'd want to just pull them in, have them touch you again in the way you wanted. It made you feel both hot and mortified at the same time. You should send them away, make it clear you were no little pet to be made to purr whenever they wanted. You'd not find out which you would have done.

"Hope ye'll naw mind if I don't call ye Duchess, nae such thing where I bide."

Gods he was such a compelling creature up close. The elaborate fabric wrapped around him was held in place by nothing but clever donning, his hair was shorn on the sides and his eyes were so... Saints help you they were so warm and kind on you. You were in equal parts intrigued and terrified of this man, caught frozen in your doorway.

"Looking a bit peely-wally there hen, why don't we get ye some water hm?"

You moved in a stiff shuffle as he herded you to sit on the edge of the bed and filled a glass from the pitcher, giving you little sips which you almost choked on with how close he was to you. Close enough to tear through your throat with his teeth you thought, close enough to drink your blood. He sighed with a little grin, making sure you got some water before putting down the glass and falling back gracelessly to sit cross legged on the floor by your feet, leaning back on his arms.

"Yer feart of me."

That pride that had been slowly waking up these past few days came alive.

"I am not 'feart' of you. You may have conquered a Kingdom, but I am not a King."

“Ye think I button up the back wee yin? Yer feart because I’m a blood druid and the West has always been feart of what they don’t understand. If naw for your betrothed everyone here would be the same.”

“Ghost. The Prince said his name was Ghost. And you are John MacTavish.”

You weren’t sure why you felt the need to say it, but somehow it seemed important to let this man know that you had some knowledge. Big scary Blood Druid sat on your floor looking up at you, relaxed as anything. He was the third man who had lowered himself to be beneath you and it made something fizz, some animal instinct purring at the small act of submission from men so dominant.

“Simon. His name is Simon Riley. And aye, my name is John MacTavish. Johnny is fine if it’s you.”

“Johnny”, you tried it out, wrapping your tongue around it. He seemed pleased and you could not stop the annoyance blossoming on your face at how easily you had moved from terrified to having a casual conversation. 

He laughed, leaning forward to put his hands on your thighs and lean his head on one like some affectionate puppy, big eyes seeming liquid gazing up at you with such fondness.

“Ye look at me the way Simon does before he skelps me wee yin. Cannae give me that look if ye want me to behave all proper for ye,” he said, his hand on your free thigh squeezing. Gods, not again.

“Please…”

He perked up at the strained cry coming from you, head raising so he could look fully at you. Whatever he found in his appraisal seemed to change his mood, his eyes narrowing for a moment.

“Wit’s that worry for? Whit did Gaz say tae ye? I’m naw going tae take yer maidenhood, just going tae make you feel good. Get you ready.”

“I don’t understand what you mean!” you shouted at him, tears starting that you tried to hide behind your hands.

You felt so stupid. So small and weak and stupid. What did you need to get ready for? What did he mean by your maidenhood and why had he assumed you were worried he would take it rather than the truth that you were worried he would make you feel as his companions had and it would overwhelm you? Gone was that relaxed nature of his, instead he seemed tense. 

“Look at me” he said with such a steady command that you followed the instruction, dropping your hands. “Tell me whit ye ken about yer wedding night. Naw the one in this Kingdom, the one ye thought ye’d have in yours. The one yer ma would have told you about.”

“My mother died when I was born.”

“Who looked after ye then?”

“I- well there were servants that attended to me.”

“There must have been one that telt ye aboot yer womanhood aye? Taught ye about yer bleeding and whit it meant?”

“Of course” you huffed, “father was furious when I stained the sheets as a girl. They made sure to teach me how to hide it properly after that to not damage anything.”

The hand on your thigh tightened and then loosened rapidly a few times, but the man in front of you kept his expression neutral. 

“Yer wedding night, whit did they tell ye about it?”

“Well I… it happened very quickly. I wasn’t told anything before I was in the carriage and then I was alone for the journey.”

He blew out a breath, stood and bent to press lips to your forehead and then looked at you with such a ferocity in his eyes that you remembered every horror story about Blood Druids and thought them all surely true. 

“I’ll naw kill yer father without yer permission wee yin even though I should, fucking hackit wee shite that he is. Seems he left a good bit out of yer schooling.”

That horrible feeling of missing something came to a crescendo. This was confirmation enough that there were some important facts you were missing. Some knowledge held from you that meant you were defenceless against all these new sensations. And it was this monster who was the one to tell you. Although who was it that had always told you that men from the Northern Isles were monsters? His hand now against your face, rough thumb rubbing at your tears, did not feel like that of a monster.

“Gaz and Price I cannae guarantee will be able to stop themselves if they find oot that ye didnae even ken whit they were doing. Fuck hen, we’ve been mean tae ye haven’t we? Poor thing naw even knowing whit’s expected of ye from yer husband.”

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

“Aww dinnae get all bratty on me now jist cause yer mad ye dinnae ken anything,” he cooed, making you feel that way you had with Price, that pulsating anger.

“Well stop using it against me and teach me then!”

John MacTavish had never really pretended to be a good man. He was probably as close to a decent one as he reckoned a young lady could find, but certainly not good. If he were a good man he’d have left, found Kate and asked her to teach this little Duchess all about the romantic and erotic arts. But the temptation to lead you into a little snare wasn’t one he was inclined to ignore. Fuck you were so easily led, so predictably lashing out and giving him exactly what he wanted.

Oh he would be more than happy to teach you all about what you wanted to know, and he  was going to take his time doing it.

[citrine-elephant]

i do believe i must make a verdugo for leon once he arrives and is built...

[arandomperson3]

Do y’all every come up with the weirdest stuff or Oc’s? ‘Cause like- my friend and I ship our Hazbin oc’s together and I wrote like- 16 chapters for a ship-fic that’s just canon but with oc’s shoved into the mix, and like- however long later, I come up with like- a random circus au, write what would probably be twenty five, thirty pages in an actual book for the two chapters I have so far, and out of no where I just randomly come up with a random ass scenario that’s like ‘what if they came across a little kid five minutes before a performance?’ Like- just the most random scenarios off the top of my head and I have no clue how the fuck I did it

[soullesscircuits]

> get an idea for a fic

> ask brain if it's smutty or crack

> "it's a good fic, sir"

> start writing it

> it's smut

[frmisnow]

ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw)

summary. what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!

notes. guysss i changed my mind! there will be a fifth chapter because there is something that i want them to do- a refrence to chp. 2 + they need to get lil cheonsa duh?? ✶𝄞 if y'all are currently reading this, i'm probs already on vacation! so it'll take a minute, regardless, i hope everybody enjoys!!

warnings/includes. non idol! ceo! jungkook x f! employee! reader, smut described/implied multiple times!! (morning sex, very slight voyeurism / heavy flirting in a boutique, NASTY dirty talk) , drabble-ish (idk i just want them to be happy), cheonsa mention (we cheered)

the morning had begun in the best way possible. the bright italian sun on your face, the hotel sheets lightly crumpled, well- and jungkook.

jungkook who had woken you up with gentle kisses starting from your face, moving to your shoulder, all the way to your tits. kissed your sore little thighs too, because "they deserved it" after all the things they've gone through - sure.

he made love to you. moaned how beautiful you were along with some other sweet dirty nothings.

it was the kind of sex that made you feel cherished, worshipped even, as if all of his love was burried solely in his tip and he poured all of it into you, when you both came.

after spending what felt like hours wrapped up in each other, you had finally left the bed, your body still tingling from the morning’s activities. the first spot was a cat café, jungkook had read about it somewhere, thinking of you.

you both had spent a few hours in there, sipping on your respective lattes, playing with the little cats while their tiny paws brush against your legs. jungkook had his polaroid camera out at all times, clicking away.

showed the photos to you, told you how cute you looked, how the kitten in your lap looked just like you. how you both should get little cheonsa just like that.

closely after, you both took your time strolling through the streets, hands intertwined, ending with him pushing you into a high-end boutique. you smiled at his eagerness, it wasn't the first time he spend that black card of his on you.

jungkook handed you a dress, that reminded more of a whisper of fabric rather then a real garment, leaving little to the imagination. but you instantly nodded, that's what you liked about being with him; you didn't feel shy, there was no reason to. not with every single thing jungkook has said about your body this far.

the fitting rooms were large, they felt like rooms by themselves. jungkook sat outside patentily, tapping his legs. when you walked out you could clearly see him trying his absolute best not to reach out his hands, his pupils widening ever so slightly, taking a deep breath to compose himself, "turn around, angel, for me."

you did as he said when done, walking over to take a seat on his thigh while his fingers immediately moved to stroke your thighs, mumbling how pretty you were.

the way you were sitting, so close to him, he could make out your pretty panties peeking under the dress. black lace, with little bows he had gifted to you when you visited that lingerie place a few days ago, thinking of you in that store didn't make his growing buldge any better.

and you most certaintly made it even worse by whispering into his ear, how much you needed him and how wet you've been ever since this morning.

he bit his lip, your body was so painfully close and your skirt only rode up, gently pinching your thigh almost as a light warning, "remember where we are"

following you made a little pout, but mumbled a reluctant 'fine' anyway, making your way back into the fitting room.

next stop was a restaurant, you hadn't even noticed that it had gotten late by this time but jungkook took care of it, as always. how he managed to get a reservation at this place, you didn't quite know but you certaintly weren't complaining. he had pulled your leg over his some time ago, running his hands over the skin, the action innoccent in a way caring, like he was so sorry that you had to walk this whole day even though he had spoiled you shamelessly.

his fingers drew patterns and tiny circles over the skin, his face glowing from what was left of the sun through the large windows.

"i'm so happy" you smile, your fingers moving through his hair lightly.

jungkook's lips curl into a soft smile, just like yours, leaning into your touch, "i'm happy too, angel" his voice low and affectionate, "everday"

the evening went exeptionelly well, he talked you stupid about some of the other things he wanted to do, didn't mention business even once.

you both walked back to the hotel, you liked the city at night and had asked him to walk instead of taking a taxi. he didn't let go of your hand, swinging.

he walked back to the hotel with you, holding your hand tightly, it had been your wish to stroll back, you liked the city at night. it all reminded you of that night but it was different this time, it felt good not having wine in your system.

for once you felt like you actually could love jungkook, without alcohol, without your job, any other factor in your way. you could fuck him freely without having to blame the alcohol for it, after.

love is lust. that's why he pounds you into the large matress, tells you how bad you've been, how greedy you were.

he asked questions, dirty ones, you were way to brain fucked to understand dare to say even answer.

asks how much you'd like it, him filling you up everywhere, in the bathrooms, around his apartment, in the elevator, during your shifts at work, how he'd make you walk around feeling full, feeling dripping and sticky under your skirt.

describes how he'd call you into his office just so he could take you nicely on his desk. have you walk out later, nod to all your colleagues, like a good girl.

you barerly hear him and the words make you moan out are vile things that people only say when they are about to come. how you wanted to marry him, have him around you all times, how much you wanted him every minute.

you thought about how small you'd want the wedding to be, you, him and little kitten cheonsa. and you moan again, like a porn star.

and he responds, gripping your hips tighter, "i'd marry you tomorrow if you asked me to, hell i'd make a baby with you right this second if you wanted."

he let out a grunted string of 'please's though you weren't even sure what he was begging you for. your brain felt so incredibly mushy.

few seconds later, he filled you up, making a mess of you. he instantly reached out to touch your chin gently to look at you, "you okay, princess?"

you managed to nod but he shock his head, "words, i need to hear you, angel" it was a soft order, one you couldn't look away from.

so you reassure him that you are happy and so content, he seems to like your words, smiling. lifting you up and maneuvering you on top of him, still inside of you. his fingers trace over your bare back soothingly as he lights a cigarette with his other hand, just like that night.

and you smiled to yourself because you knew. you knew that this time when you woke up, you wouldn't have to leave, you would be able to look at his sleeping smile as long as you wanted. it was a comforting thought.

— cheonsa means angel.

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904 , @spiderlilyserendipity , @m00njinnie , @ririkookiemonster , @emptynessclub , @yoongznme , @snow-strawberry , @ttanniett

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

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☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?” 

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 

You glance at the time. 11:56am. 

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.” 

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?” 

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands?"

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though.

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[chrollogy]

FROM ME TO YOU | short series masterlist (completed)

ft. miya atsumu x f!reader

synopsis: A spontaneous winter break trip to Shizuoka with your friends strains your sanity as you try to keep your uncontrollable feelings for Miya Atsumu at bay.

content warning: college au, fluff, angst, eventual light smut (mdni), slice of life, friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, miscommunication, requited unrequited love, forced proximity, tsumu and reader are helpless, my poor depiction of japanese cities, implied alcohol use, slightly suggestive, snowboard instructor!kuroo cameo, shrine visit, hinata mention, cockblocker suna, hurt/comfort, nsfw, implied unprotected s*x, kita graduates from uni!, + more tags tba !

── Some days were filled with fluttering heartbeats, and dreamy sighs. As if on cloud nine, drifting along the feathery scenery atop a huge ivory cloud, cupid's bow snug on your chest.

Other days were plagued with the ache of yearning, and unwanted jealousy—cupid's bow uncomfortably digging into your heart like a painful itch, awkwardly poking out from your chest like an unconcealed badge saying, 'Hey, look at me! I have a crush on someone who doesn't even like me back. How stupid of me!'

CHAPTERS:

i. Let’s go to Shizuoka!

ii. Just me & you

iii. Honeyed gaze

iv. New year blues

v. Misunderstandings (end)

want to be updated? fill in the taglist form! 43/50 slots (closed)

notes: divider: cafekitsune. my first ever short series! please bear with me since it would prob be a slow update. each chapter will be tagged accordingly to its content :> other than that, enjoy!

—

© chrollogy 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my video

[angel-sweets666]

Cast me a spell

barbarian! Bakugo x witch Afab! reader one shot

A barbarian needs a spell to cause the downfall of his enemies, he found just the witch to do it

warnings: smut

chapter two here

a/n bro I just freestyled this 😭😭 btw I made it afab cuz it’s smut and I probs can’t write gay sex rn but everything else is gender neutral trust. Also this is my first time writing smut so please don’t judge 😭

Bakugo is aged up to 20

Bakugo groaned as he walked in forest, dry leaves and twigs snapping under his boot. Bakugo had been sent by his tribe to find a witch, a witch who would rig the war they were in and beat the other tribe. Bakugo didn’t know why he had to go, there were so many barbarian men who would go! Why’d it have to be him! The elders found him the strongest clearly, that’s got to be a good sign. Maybe he’ll inherit the chief title from his father…. Bakugo shook the thoughts away as he looked around for some kind of cabin, some sort of suggestion to show there is a witch out here like the elders say, maybe they’ll see bakugo is strong and worthy if he manages to make the witch come with him back to the tribe. Bakugo whistled while looking around, suddenly a fox came up to his legs and sat by him “what..? What do you want you pest” he tried to kick the fox, but the fox dodged it and used his head to tell bakugo to come with him “I’m not going with a fox forget it.”

bakugo continued walking before the fox yelped out and four more foxes appeared, all different colours. What stood out to him was how one fox seemed to have a light purple almost lavender colour, the sun made it difficult to see however “huh..? No I don’t trust no fo- OUCH!” Bakugo yelped as all 5 foxes bit him and tried to drag him too the other way “fine! Fine! I’ll follow you..” bakugo grumbled, seemingly annoyed. The foxes let go and began to lead bakugo down a pathway, he began to see fruits and vegetables being grown on a sort of farm. Bakugo at first thought that the foxes were leading him to a farmer and this was some sort of advertisement but he was proved wrong when he saw a fairy dust like powder float above the crops and then be placed ontop, making the crops grow almost twice their size and look healthier. Then he noticed the clearly unnatural cloud of rain water the plants, it was so close to the ground that there was no way it was natural. It just hovered over the crops in a neat line. Then the natural sun seemed to do some good. Bakugo noticed that the creatures seemed to look more mythical the further he went, once black birds were now beautiful shades of blue, pink, yellow ect. Cats and bunnies around began to come up in more colourful shades too, bright blue and green eyes watching. Now the flowers had a glow, they were all gold and sparkling. Everything looked unnatural and non normal…mythical, almost fairy tail like… he began to hear the humming of a person he was preparing for a ugly hag.. but no, a beautiful person with a equally as mythical look to them! You! A fox went up the To you and you got on your knees to “hear” what it had to say, then… you looked up at bakugo

“what are you needing…?” You asked him as you raised to your feet “I.. Uhm… I need something, my tribe actually. My tribe needs something” he informed you “needs… needs what?” You began to walk towards bakugo “a bad luck spell.. something like that. We’re at war and…” “you want me to rig it..?make ‘em loose?” You interrupted him “how’d you know…?” Bakugo was shocked “I know this stuff, now.. do you want them to loose..?” You asked softly and he nodded “I think.. I think I have just the thing, come inside” you used your finger to motion him to come inside. You began to mix up a potion, full of that gold flower, the fairy dust like powder, a couple fruits, some other unknown ingredients ect… you put it in a bottle that while it looked small, could fit a whole tribes worth of water. Then you stepped towards a book shelf, looking through the spell books available to you. You made a “ah” sound and then pulled a dusty book, blowing the dust off. “Do you have anything of the uh.. other sides” you asked him “like their hair or some shit?” He asked aggressively “that could work, clothes, arrows they shot, accessories, blood. Anything that come from the other team”

Bakugo thought for a moment, “uh… I have a piece of one of their swords” he pulled a bloodied peice of metal out from one of his pockets, dried blood falling off and onto his fingers “that works!” You grabbed the piece of metal and placed it by an unlit candle, grabbing a match and lighting it. You reached over to light the candle and then sat by the candle and began to whisper something, like a prayer. “What are you doing?” He asked, you ignored him and continued your whispering “answer me” he grumbled, you looked at him then closed your eyes again. Once again continuing your whispering, after a couple of minutes you finished and slowly stood back up “doing a spell, as per you asked.” You grabbed the glass bottle full of the potion “you feed these to your armies, you’ll be strong enough and the war will be over in a day or two” you said quietly to him as you placed the bottle into his hand, and closed his hand for him. “What would it taste like?” He asked “like water, what do you think?” You leaned your weight onto one hip “I don’t know, like shit?” He rolled his eyes “don’t get an attitude with me” you got up into his face “who are you talking to like that?” He grumbled “you obviously” you chuckled then walked off. Grabbing herbs and other stuff, clearly organising stuff “what you just going to stand there?” You asked, wondering if he was going to leave anytime soon, looking over your shoulder at him. “Could you come back with me? To my tribe?” He asked with his typical rough deep voice “why would I do that?” You placed books in a wooden book shelf “we need your help” “I’ve already helped you haven’t I?” “Just do it.” He grumbled at you, grabbing your shoulder “mmmm no” you said

in pure frustration with you bakugo picked you up and threw you over his shoulder “oi! Why’d you do that!” You kicked in an attempt to get away from him “get over it princess” he chuckled as he pushed the door open with his body and then walked you in the forests back to his tribe, holding your body over his shoulder and your legs down with his arms to prevent you from kicking him “out me down put me down!” You screamed as you yanked at his hair, he didn’t notice nor did he care. “Will you be good and not walk off? You’ll follow me?” He asked as his ego got larger and larger “ughhhhhh fine!”you agreed, he leaned down and placed you down onto the ground “you owe me, I rigged a tribal war for you” you said with a obvious attitude “oh yeah? What do I owe you? A animal? Weird ingredients for your freaky potions? A quest? Sex? A man from my tribe once had to sleep with a witch for potions” he listed off his ideas “why would I sleep with you? Your egos probably bigger than your dick.” You crossed your arms in frustration “someone’s got an attitude” bakugo playfully shoved you “don’t even.”

you went back to bakugos tribe, he gave his tribe the potion you gave them, the war just like you said was over in a day. You ended up having to follow bakugo around because you didn’t know anyone else as well, you eventually had gotten used to the change, by the sixth month of living there you were considered one of them. I’ve had atleast 50 people come up to me asking if your my spouse/wife/husband” he said while you two were going for a walk “well lucky I’m not” you chuckled “maybe you should be, I’ll need a wife/spouse/husband when I become chief” you blushed deeply “w-w-what..?”you stuttered “it’s true, they don’t let people who aren’t married be chief. I’m next in line to be chief and I’m not married” he informed you “are you trying to propose to me? You’ve known me a whole of 6 months!” You said in surprise “my parents got married after 3” “is that like a cultural thing?” You asked “yeah… the other tribes get married after a later time, I guess this is what we’ve always done, we done need to love each other, just so I become chief.” He says “so this is a proposal?” Your eyebrows raised “yes I suppose it is.” Bakugo grumbled “I’ll think about it”

you laid in bed that night as you stared at the roof of your hut, thinking about what bakugo said. You slowly rolled out of bed and put some shoes and stumbled out of your wooden hut and looked towards bakugos hut, the light from his windows suggest he was still awake. You slowly walk towards his hut, the sound of grass beneath your feet. Most huts were dark, a way to say the people in them were asleep; not bakugo though. Bakugo stayed up late training. You knocked on bakugos door, you could hear him put something down then walk towards the door; he opened the door and he looked down towards you “oh.. hello” he said in surprise “I Uhm…whatcha doing?” “Working out, your supposed to be asleep” he furrowed his eyebrows “yeah I know but I can’t sleep” you said as you walked into his hut, flopping onto his bed “don’t get too comfy there” he sat down next to you “your beds comfier then mine though….” You whined and got yourself buried into his bed sheets, he sneakily wrapped an arm around you “what are you doing..?” You asked him “nothing..” he said with a smile “your really trying when it comes to this whole getting married thing..” you whispered to him, his hand reached for your hips “maybe I am…. Maybe I’m not” he sighed and rubbed your side. You rolled over to lean on his chest a bit, you used light magic to make fire flies appear, having a sort of light show appear. Bakugo watched it and smiled “have you always been able to do that..?” He asked “since I was around 8 maybe…” you replied, bakugo reached into your shirt, softly rubbing your chest. You whimpered softly, he smiled and leaned down to kiss your neck. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked softly “no…” you replied.

you slowly wiggled out of your bottoms, he watched you do it from above. He smiled softly at the sight. “Should we just get straight at it?” He asked softly as he unbuckled his belt, an obvious buldge in his pants. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards him “just be a good girl him?” He grumbled and managed to pull his pants down and pulled his member out “tell me if it hurts bub” he says softly “okay.. yeah I can do that” you nodded, you felt him slowly push inside of your body. He let out a slight grunt, you bit down on your bottom lip. He eventually bottomed out which didn’t take long due to the size of his length. “C-can I uh… mmph.. m-move now..?” He whined softly “mhm..” you whines and spread your legs a little bit wider for more access to your body. He slowly pulled out almost all the way only for him to push back in, you yelped and wrapped your arms around his neck. Burying your face into his neck while he thrusted into you, stretching you out. It had been a while since either of you had done something like this so it was obvious why he was so needy. He gripped your waist softly and eventually found a pace that both of you found pleasurable. You let out a moan as he began to go a bit faster with you, the tip of him tapping against your cervix, the knot in your belly began to tighten suggesting the fact you were getting close “mmph..” he whimpered as he buried his face into your neck, you reached up to pet his hair. You moaned and whined. Eventually his thrusted became sloppy and more like he was chasing his own climax, the knot in your tummy threatened to burst and eventually… it did. The warmth of his cum going inside you was a comforting feeling

“you know maybe I will marry you…”

[lincolndjarin]

Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary. 

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark. 

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him. 

But you can’t.

So you don’t. 

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.    

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.  

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away. 

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle. 

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence. 

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from. 

Lose your leg or starve. 

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful. 

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge. 

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable. 

So there’s only one other option for you. 

You steal. 

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk. 

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching. 

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day. 

You need more. 

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea. 

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal. 

The only problem is your neighbors reputation. 

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time. 

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty. 

So you’d have to be careful. 

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area. 

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings. 

Lucky you. 

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process. 

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor. 

A revolver. 

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window? 

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear. 

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness. 

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way. 

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you. 

No one would look for you. 

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner. 

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all. 

He isn’t a terrible last sight. 

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.” 

Maybe he’s right. 

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you. 

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes. 

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won��t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed. 

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch. 

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit. 

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all. 

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all. 

Fuck. 

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh. 

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively. 

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?” 

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself. 

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?” 

A lot. 

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime. 

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. 

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you. 

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising. 

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.” 

You told him you’d think about it. 

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help. 

And just like that, it was your idea. 

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after. 

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did. 

But he wanted nothing of the sort. 

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning. 

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before. 

He must like having someone to take care of. 

That’s how you explain it to yourself. 

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you. 

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was. 

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that. 

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was. 

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already. 

He had acted unsure. 

You know now that it was acting. 

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him. 

It was your idea. 

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you. 

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come. 

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning. 

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment. 

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet. 

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his. 

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed. 

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them. 

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg. 

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing. 

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs. 

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend. 

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go. 

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that. 

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them. 

“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing. 

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister. 

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other. 

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one. 

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down. 

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall. 

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it. 

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about. 

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules. 

You keep Jackson moving. 

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms. 

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises. 

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule. 

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans. 

“Maria gets to go on patrol.” 

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls. 

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two. 

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins. 

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work. 

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son. 

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work. 

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing. 

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists. 

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.” 

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.” 

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated. 

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother. 

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone. 

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs. 

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to. 

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.) 

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks. 

It’s all exactly how it should be. 

Until she frowns. 

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol. 

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow. 

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.” 

Odd. 

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent. 

It’s a look of pity. 

As if she feels bad for even asking. 

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind. 

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one. 

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed. 

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different. 

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy. 

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light. 

God, you're tired. 

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday. 

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment. 

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams. 

It works.

Your dreams never feature him. 

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays. 

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

[gyustarzzi]

ateez react to you giving them a hickey

warning: this chapter does have slight smut if you are uncomfortable with this please skip this! <3

a/n: you guys i can't believe i actually wrote this like- it kinda makes me sick re-reading this 🫢🤢 i hate myself sm istg 🤦‍♀(just a reminder i wrote this like a year ago on my wattpad)

☆ hongjoong - moans softly when you latch your lips onto his neck while cuddling - angles his neck so you can do more - runs his fingers through your hair 🥴 - you'll probably have some hickeys on your neck to - loves bites are a must for him as well

" You are so gorgeous...the things I would do to you "

★ seonghwa - let's you practice hickeys on him - finds it hard to understand how you are asking to practice when it feels so good - kisses your knuckles after when your done - sloppy kisses 😏 - will probably have to cover up his neck with makeup from how dark they are

" How are you so good at this? "

☆ yunho - loves how you have to lower his head to reach his neck - grunts often if you're trying to make them dark - probably wants you do to more (on his abs, collarbone) - if he feels needy he'll ask you to give him hickeys - shows them to his members

" Can you please give me a hickey? "

★ yeosang - LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL- 😳 - probably moans softly (a lot) when you give him hickeys - will hold you like the most fragile thing in the world - P H O T O S ( DEFINITELY YOUR WALLPAPER ) - will give you soft, loving kisses and rubs your back 

" Why do you have a picture of me with hickeys on your lock screen? "

☆ san - not only do you give him hickeys, he gives you hickeys  - will be so whiny when you tease him - gives you heart hickeys, love bites, and passionate yet rough kisses - probably gets you in the mood...🤭 - you'll need this love >>>>>>>>>  🦽

" You look hot with my hickeys "

★ mingi - rough grunts, grips your ass (IT IS A MESS) - whispers praises in your ear 😫 - his neck is probably covered in purple hickeys - probably asks for 🧠 after (👀) - next time your in the mood he'll ask for hickeys

" Your doing amazing, darling "

☆ wooyoung - whiniest person in the world (if that isn't possible) - he loves when you make him feel needy and weak - wants to have sex with you right after - prob makes you ride him (let you take control for the rest of the night) - you'll need this child >>>>>>>>>> 🦽

" God, I love it when you are dominant "

★ jongho - Ok but...Jongho with hickeys...😳🤭 - would probably take control after - hair tugging and sloppy hickeys - let's you bite hard on his collarbone - gets embarrassed when the members see the hickeys

" Hyung! Leave me alone! "

( i kinda regret making this chapter ngl 😶 )

[dovveri]

misunderstandings

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 6 ▸ part 7

synopsis: y/n watches the most recent episode of the bachelorette and is met with something she doesn’t like. sana also seems to be angry for whatever reason and it builds up into a big argument at the end of the night.

warnings: sex! overstimulation, fingering, scissoring, oral sex, degradation, choking, cursing

w/c: 7.1k

a/n: soooo sorry for the delay this will probs be my last update for a while bcs finals season is driving me up a wall (if u see me post another story or part its bcs im actually not studying and u should yell at me for it) i lwk hate the pacing of this chapter i feel like its everywhere but hey! we got some smut!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

the backlash wonsik gets online is more than satisfactory. apparently, with all the evidence piled up against him, he would most likely be sent away for the rest of his life. which is disgusting to think about, how much crime do you have to commit to get a life sentence? you try to shake those thoughts as you watch the most recent episode with the leftover contestants while sana’s on her individual date as usual. it was tradition now, even more so as the pool of contestants gets smaller and smaller.

after your day off, things had gotten right back to normal.

sana went on a solo date with jacky. good thing it was jacky too because they had the famous ‘conquer a fear’ date. who knew big, australian jacky was afraid of balloons. and in typical bachelorette fashion, producers came up with a romantic hot air balloon date for 5am in the morning.

costume designers had rushed into your room at 4am, turning on all the lights and pulling sana from your arms, not even casting you a second look now that they were used to seeing the both of you cuddled up and naked most of the time they had to come in and dress you.

you were barely conscious as they ran around frantically, pulling the covers over your head and groaning a little, trying to make yourself go back to sleep.

you’re sure sana didn’t feel the best either from the little grumbles and whines you can hear faintly as she struggles to keep her eyes open while makeup artists dab eyeshadow on her eyelids.

soon enough they're off and you drift back into sleep, only to be awoken a few hours later so you can get dressed and attend the group date for the day.

that was also pretty fun. everything was meant to be high-adrenaline, facing your fears, all that sort of stuff today. so the team had booked out a big amusement park and you all had free rein. it was also good because it meant you had a little bit more freedom, not everyone had to stick together so people ended up splitting naturally when they wanted to do different rides and you had even managed to sneak sana away from the cameras for a quick make out session in the toilets.

it was a pretty great day and would make for a nice and light episode after the mayhem that happened with wonsik. there was a rose ceremony as always but this time, only 2 people were eliminated. unfortunately you had to say goodbye to dae and nayeon, sana did say it was getting harder and harder to eliminate people because as the more time goes on, the closer you get, and when there's less people in the house, it also facilitates closer relationships. she had to eliminate those two simply because she felt her romantic connection with them wasn't as strong as it was with some of the other contestants. it was rough but that's showbiz.

after 2 more eliminations tonight, it would officially be the quarter finals meaning it would be time for sana to meet all of her last 4 contestants' families and close ones.

currently, you're enjoying an afternoon tea at the contestants' house. as usual, sana was on a solo date with jiwon but there wouldn't be a group date today because there wasn't enough time to film it. instead, the both of you were allowed a little sleep in after yesterday's rude 4am awakening, and a little more time in the afternoon to dress up before the rose ceremony tonight.

the episode had just finished with jacky and sana's date. jacky still won't go near a balloon and he's probably developed a fear of heights on top of that too now but at least it looked pretty on television.

you had teased him when the episode showed him nervously walking around and inspecting the hot air balloon before sana had to basically yank him into the basket. he had his eyes shut tight the entire time, holding on to sana for dear life while they ascended. it was a little cute when sana finally managed to get him to peek his eyes open once they reached their highest altitude, just in time to catch the sunrise, and in exchange for getting over his fear and not backing out of this date with her, she gave him a rose and kissed him on the cheek.

you heard afterwards from eunji that as soon as they touched back down he had jumped out of the basket and laid face down in the grass for about half an hour, just getting used to the feeling of being on the ground again.

they had caught a bit of him on the floor doing exactly that which was pretty hilarious because sana was crouched next to him, poking him and trying to get him to sit up but he just groaned and mumbled something incomprehensibly in response, his rose still clutched tight in his hand, stretched out in front of him.

they cut it off there though, maybe a little for jacky's reputation but you all knew how long he was there for.

after a short break where they show a few scenes of silly occurrences inside the house with the other contestants, and then finding out everyone was invited on the group date that day, except for jacky who was invited but ended up taking the rest of the day off to recuperate and basically laid in bed in the medical office, even skipping the rose ceremony since he already got his rose.

they shot everyone in the car on the way to the amusement park, asking the contestants what they thought was going to happen, if anyone was scared, trying to pull a few comedic clips together, all the anticipation scenes the audience needed to be excited for the date.

eventually, everyone's in the middle of the amusement park with sana and yourself waiting for them in casual clothes. you shift a little as you recall the way you had her gasping into your mouth and your hand up the blue polo shirt she’s wearing on screen only 20 minutes after the introduction and everyone had split off.

in the meantime, while the cameras were running around frantically trying to find sana, they had filled in the gaps with clips of the other contestants, you laugh when momo is practically dragged onto a rollercoaster by jihyo and jun, she’s kicking and screaming but they manage to strap her in and gesture for the roller coaster attendant to go. its one of those really fast ones where it goes from 0 to 100 in seconds so the force pushes all of them back against the seats, poor momo barely has the time to blink and then its over. she’s gasping with her eyes clenched shut while the other two are laughing and pulling her off and along to the next ride.

it’s great being able to watch what happened when you weren’t on screen, and also what sana was up to when you weren’t with her.

you laugh when they show all the contestants clambering onto the carousel, you had all taken some group pictures and some of them were more than silly.

eventually, you get to the rose ceremony, and just as you were on the night, your breath is taken away again with sana in a stunning red dress. she really nailed being on camera, her face was one that was meant to be on screen.

the night starts merrily, everyone's more of a family now, you’re all happy to drink and talk together, and it wasn’t so competitive to get time with sana anymore because there were less contestants.

you frown a little though when the camera shifts to sana and jihyo, they’re sitting very close in one of the more private rooms inside the house.

jihyo’s playing a joke and sana’s laughing, a little flushed, probably from the alcohol as she slaps jihyo’s arm lightheartedly. jihyo preens at the attention, grabbing another drink and offering it to sana who accepts it gratefully and takes a sip.

she hums in satisfaction before speaking up, “so you never did tell me how you broke up with that gym rat…”

jihyo’s laughing a little nervously, twiddling her thumbs a little, “right yeah… i just realised that i made the wrong decision. i was caught up in the newness of everything with him but after that got old, i realised i still loved-“

sana’s eyebrows are shooting up, she’s setting down her drink and clearing her throat.

“sorry.” jihyo flashes an apologetic look over at sana, but sana shakes her head.

“no no it’s okay. be as honest as you can, please. we’re both here because we’re looking for a relationship right? can’t do that if we have any skeletons still in the closet.”

jihyo’s smiling gratefully and then continuing, “he wasn’t it for me. that’s why i broke up with him. i’m sorry for the way i treated you sana, you didn’t deserve that, you never did anything wrong in our relationship and i never really gave you a reason to why we broke up. i hoped by coming on here i may be able to win back a second chance.”

sana hums again, taking a moment to think while jihyo nervously looks at her with wide eyes.

“jihyo… you hurt me a lot when you left.”

“i know! and i’m so so sorry for that! i never want to do that to you again, all i’m asking for is another chance sana.”

she’s shuffling closer, grabbing sana’s hands tightly and imploring with her eyes.

sana looks down at their hands together, taking a breath before looking back up, "look... i'm not going to lie to you... i never really did get over you completely."

what?

"and i wouldn't have kept you in here for this long if i wasn't curious about what you had to say and if i wasn't ready to give you a second chance."

what the actual fuck?

"it wouldn't be fair though. to the other contestants, y'know? if they knew you had a head start. and i admit i was avoiding you a little because i wanted to even the playing field and get to know everyone else first before revisiting this." she makes a gesture with her hands, signaling between the two of them. "so its nice to finally be able to sit down and get a clear answer about what happened in the past."

jihyo looks more and more hopeful as sana goes on, your hands only get tighter around the fabric of your pants. sana didn't tell you about this conversation last night. sana hasn't mentioned anything jihyo related. whenever you ask, she's always managed to change the conversation or misdirect you with the promise of sex. was this why? is this how she really felt about jihyo? did she think you would disapprove? well you do disapprove but that was besides the point.

all of the other contestants don't seem too shocked with this news. it's not too surprising though because they've all lived with jihyo and the one thing they all have in common is sana so there's no doubt they've all discussed each other's feelings for sana, and jihyo probably told them their history as well.

you're fuming though. you can't believe sana didn't tell you something this important. that you're finding this out along with the rest of the country when you were meant to be her best friend here, the one person who was supposed to know everything before everyone.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

the rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur. you can vaguely tell when someone comes up to you and tries to initiate or bring you into the conversation but your mind is swirling with information about sana and jihyo, their past interactions, whether you could decipher any of sana's feelings from observing her.

eventually, it's time for the rose ceremony again and you're still in your head about everything you thought you knew happened yesterday.

you have half the mind to pull sana aside and ask her about it but when you meet sana's eyes, she squints a little and looks away quickly with signs of a pout in her lip.

the night continues like this, the two of you stealing glances at each other only when you think the other isn't looking. when sana starts pulling jihyo aside though, you don't care if she sees the look of disbelief on your face, she doesn't seem to notice anyway, all cozied up to jihyo.

you're averting your head again and downing the rest of your drink in one gulp.

when it's time to read out who gets a rose and who's going home, you're stiff standing next to sana, she's purposely avoiding your gaze as well. the tension between you two was so thick jiwon had come up and asked if something had happened between you two. and technically nothing did happen so you don't really know why sana seems to be angry with you when you were the one who was hurt by yesterday's episode.

the ceremony is brief, you have to say goodbye to jun, and eunji unfortunately but you can barely give them a proper hug as you stare at jihyo who's now made the final four.

after your goodbyes you quickly make your way towards the car, tapping your foot impatiently while waiting for sana to finish saying her goodbyes so you could both go home.

unfortunately, that takes another 20 minutes and you're just about to tell the driver to leave without her when she's sliding into the car, still avoiding your gaze and sitting on the opposite end of the car. normally she's all over you, needing affection after a big day but now you're pretty sure if she moved any further away she'd be falling out the window.

that was fine though. it’s not like you wanted to have an argument with her while the driver could hear you anyway.

the car’s pulling in and she’s opening her door and stalking inside the house without even a second glance towards you.

what the fuck? why was she mad at you now?

you feel almost childish copying her actions and making sure to slam the door on the way in, but if she was acting like this for no reason that only infuriated you more.

you find her in the kitchen, tapping her foot impatiently and waiting for you to come in.

once you’re standing on opposite sides of the counter, you cross your arms and still. she’s leaning on the counter with her hands, staring you down. there was no way you were going to be the first to break. she was the one who had some explaining to do right now, not you.

sana's stubborn as well though, lips pursed and not backing down.

it goes on like this for a few minutes before you finally break, raising an eyebrow and asking coldly, "so do you have anything you want to say to me sana?"

sana scoffs, the tips of her ears red, "do you have anything you want to say y/n?"

"what? no! i don't even know why you're being like this right now! i'm the one who's been left in the dark here."

"oh you're the one who's been left in the dark huh? unbelievable that you're still lying to my face about this. is that how you really feel about her?"

"excuse me?! it doesn't matter how i feel about her! the whole issue is how you've been dealing with this situation!"

sana sneers, your voices getting louder and louder trying to top each other, "this again? seriously y/n? i'm my own person and i'm allowed to have opinions on who i like and who i don't like! if she's being weird or sneaky or whatever i'm going to call her out on it!"

you scoff, "yeah right. like you called her out on it last night? and tonight as well i bet. why did you take so long saying your goodbyes huh?"

sana goes beet red and you think you've got her, "what?! what are you talking about?! and i stayed behind to say proper goodbyes to everyone! not like you apparently who couldn't care less, you barely talked to anyone tonight, when jun, and eunji, who was one of your closest friends here right?! when they had to leave you didn't even look them in the eye when they hugged you!"

"riiiiiiiiiight and you expect me to believe that? you weren't cuddling up and getting a quickie in before you had to go right?"

"what?! what are you talking about y/n?! quickie- what?"

"with jihyo! you stayed behind to talk to her didn't you!?"

"what?! well yeah i did but what does jihyo have to do with any of this?"

"what?! i've been talking about jihyo this whole time what do you mean?"

she's slipping something out of her suit pocket and sliding it across the counter to you. your phone.

"are you fucking serious y/n? you've been talking about jihyo this whole time? what the fuck? why the fuck are you suddenly bringing her up? you're the one who's been going behind my back getting all flirty and friendly with miyeon! after you told me you were just friends?! calling each other babe and sweetie and honey in your texts, how the fuck did you even get her number anyway? how long have you been talking to her huh? how long have you been fucking me while talking to someone else?"

you're scrambling for your phone, unlocking it and scrolling to your messages with miyeon. fuck. sana must have read everything. you don't even remember leaving your phone behind but it must have been with her since the morning. you scroll down the texts and see the most recent messages miyeon has texted you today and you find that sana has been replying to her.

"are you serious sana?! why the fuck did you go through my phone?"

sana turns her head at that, pouting a little, "i didn't mean to! she just kept on texting and i thought it must have been something important if your phone kept going off so i just went in to make sure everything was okay! how was i supposed to know you were basically sexting her behind my back!?"

"we were not sexting oh my god sana! miyeon is my friend we're just friends!"

"why have you been keeping this from me then?! you must like her or something then don't you?!"

"what?! no! and don't talk to me about keeping secrets right now sana!"

"what secrets have i kept from you?!"

"hello?!" you're waving your hands around frantically, "the whole jihyo situation?! why didn't you tell me you never got over her?"

"i never got over- what?!"

"you said so last night! on national fucking television! don't play dumb with me right now sana, and don't try and change the topic on me!"

"i never said that! are you being serious right now? jihyo and i split and it took me a while but you were there for it all! you saw me at my lowest and you helped build me back up! i am over her!"

"why is she in the final four then?"

"oh my god y/n you cannot seriously still be talking about jihyo! i'm over her! the producers wanted her to make it to the final four because they thought they could add some drama in during the home visits or whatever! jihyo and i talked about it last night and i told her why she was still here because i didn't want to keep leading her on! that's why i stayed for longer after the rose ceremony, i just wanted to check on her and make sure she was okay with all of this because i still care about her! i loved her at one point in my life!"

"that's not what i saw in last night's episode!"

"what?!"

"yeah! you and jihyo were all close and snuggly and she told you she still loved you and you said you were going to give her a second chance!"

"y/n i never said any of that." the rage has lifted slightly now, replaced with confusion.

you're breathing heavily, tired from arguing, you and sana had more fights these few weeks that you've been filming than you've had your entire lives together.

you tap out of your messaging app, going to tiktok and searching up last night's bachelorette episode, scrolling past all the funny jacky moments and amusement park shorts, trying to find the part where jihyo and sana were talking. someone had to have posted about it.

"are you serious right now? are you fucking texting miyeon while we're talking?"

"what?! no! sana i told you miyeon and i are just friends! i'm trying to find a clip of you and jihyo last night to show you what i'm talking about!" you find one then and quickly hold it out for sana to see.

she watches the clip replay a few times while you wait defiantly.

after the seventh replay you take your phone back, sighing when you think she has nothing to say for herself.

“y/n…”

“want to explain yourself now? anything else you wanna divulge while you’re at it?”

“what? no y/n i didn’t say any of that. they edited that together. i didn’t say any of that to jihyo i promise.”

you look at her in confusion, looking back to your phone, and then back to her.

“i did pull jihyo aside and we did talk but i never told her that i didn't get over her. y/n you have to believe me baby i- i can call the producers right now, they'll clear everything up." she's reaching for her phone, but the immense relief that she doesn't still have feelings for jihyo washes over you and brings you to action. moving around the counter and taking her phone from her and wrapping her in a hug.

she stills against you, and you're both surprised when you feel your own tears falling down your face, the tension of the night finally getting to you.

"y/n..."

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry i do believe you. this all seems so silly now i hate when we fight. i overreacted with the whole jihyo thing and it could've been solved so easily if i'd just talked to you instead of..."

sana softens against you, wrapping her arms around your waist and carding a hand through your hair. "it's okay baby. i'll talk to the producers tomorrow and make sure they don't pull anything like that again. and after the home visits i promise jihyo is the one who'll be going home."

you sniffle a little, "you don't have to do that for me sana. i swear i was just being..."

"hmm?"

"i don't know i'm tired sana. can we go to bed?"

she hums against you, pulling you both towards the bathroom for your nighttime routines. once you're done, you're climbing into sana's bed and picking up your phone again, scrolling back to your messages with miyeon while waiting for sana to finish her routine and join you.

y/n: heyy sorry i just got my phone back, sana's had it the last few hours because i left it behind so if i seemed weird over text it's because she was messaging you

miyeon: oh it's okay! i did think you sounded a bit off but i just chalked it up to u not feeling well or something. was sana mad when she found out we were texting?

y/n: 😂 how did you know?

miyeon: well i was on the receiving end of her jealousy when she texted me today so that was one clue 😂

y/n: jealousy?

suddenly your phone starts vibrating and miyeon's name flashes across the screen. you pick up hesitantly, "hello?"

"y/n! hey! it's good to actually hear your voice again!"

you chuckle a little, "you too princess. what's up?"

"nothing really, i just wanted to see where your head's at with sana now."

"what do you mean?"

"remember the conversation we had the night i got kicked out? while you were drunk?"

you squint a little, shuffling around in the sheets, "kinda... why?"

"i noticed the way you looked at her, the way you talked about her, even on the first night i think the reason why no one suspected that you weren't just a regular contestant was because i thought, we all thought you also felt the same way we did for sana."

"w-what?"

"you might not have realised it... but i think you were beginning to see it when filming started. do you get jealous when you see sana with the other contestants?"

"i- well- i mean i kinda just thought i was friend jealous though. or like that i just wanted the best for her which was why i was so harsh on contestants in the beginning."

"the way you talk about her over text sounds like its more than that y/n."

"i don't- what- i'm not jealous-"

you barely register that sana's finished with her routine now, sliding into bed next to you and cuddling up immediately. "what are you jealous about?"

you freeze, looking at her like you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar in the middle of the night.

"is that sana?" you're broken out of it quickly when you hear miyeon's voice over the phone.

sana bristles though, moving away from you and frowning, "are you on the phone with miyeon?"

"i- yeah-"

sana's snatching the phone out of your hand instantly, bringing it up to her ear and speaking into the microphone with a cold sneer, "yes this is sana. can i help you?"

you can't hear miyeon respond but the way sana's speaking sends a lightning rod of arousal down your spine. your mind is still hazy with what miyeon's suggested, and you're thinking about how you hated seeing sana kiss wonsik, how blinded you felt when you thought sana still liked jihyo, what could this mean? how long have you liked sana for? has it always been this way?

you don't realise that sana's features have become less defensive as she talks to miyeon, almost apologetic even when she settles back down next to you, humming in response to something miyeon's said over the phone. she's within proximity again that you can make out miyeon's voice.

"-but i hope you've been doing well and taking care of yourself with all the craziness that comes along with filming."

"yeah thank you miyeon. really. and again i'm so sorry for all the misunderstandings and i hope you know that eliminating you was definitely a mistake and it was very short-sighted of me but i'm glad that we've finally had a chance to talk where i'm not completely hostile to you."

you can hear the airy giggle of miyeon over the phone, "of course! all the best with the rest of the season sana. maybe we'll see each other on the other side."

sana smiles, "definitely. goodnight miyeon!"

she hangs up and hands your phone back to you, going right back to cuddling as if nothing had happened.

you're trying to pick out what part of that conversation that you overheard bothered you when it hits. "eliminating miyeon was a mistake?" was this the jealousy again?

"weren't you the one saying that?" sana raises an eyebrow at you, brushing her fingers over your side.

"well- i-"

she's giggling now, "i'm just kidding. miyeon just put to rest everything that was on my mind so i have nothing to worry about. i'm sorry for overreacting when i found out you were texting her. you're allowed to have friends, sorry i was trying to micromanage that."

"what was on your mind?"

"hmm y'know... you mostly."

you whine, hitting her lightly while she laughs at you.

"she told me you were just friends and she never meant to make it seem like it was anything else. she also helped me... come to terms with a few things so i'm actually very grateful for that."

"what things?"

"so many questions y/n. are you worried i'm about to steal her away from you?" sana teases.

"what? no! stop teasing-"

she grins, poking your cheek, "i'm keeping that to myself for now okay? i'll probably tell you one day. just not today."

"why not?"

"just because." she smiles, "now let's sleep."

you grumble a little, confused at what miyeon could have told sana, confused with what miyeon told you. there was one thing you did want to test out though...

you lean in quickly and capture sana's lips, taking her a little by surprise but she's quick to reciprocate, closing her eyes and kissing you back.

you're aggressive, climbing on top of her quickly and licking into her. you're trying to figure out if kissing her made you feel anything more. anything that could clue you in on your true feelings for her.

she's breaking away from you panting though, pushing you back slightly when you try to chase after her again, "woah y/n baby baby slow down- what's got you all in a rush?"

your eyes are dark as you look down at her, friends don't normally feel like the world would end if they stopped kissing right? you needed to be back on her, in her, needed to feel her around you, needed to taste her, needed to memorise every single sound she made, you needed her. that was more than just lust right?

"just- just need you please-" you're leaning back in, almost begging.

"no- no y/n stop. tell me what's going on, you're not normally like this."

you groan, head falling to her shoulder, slumping against her. "something stupid miyeon said..." you mumble into her shoulder.

"what did she say?"

you huff against her, "that i had feelings for you."

you hear the gasp sana lets out, her hands at your waist tightening their hold and you groan into her, grinding down a little at the feeling.

she stills you though, hands sliding down to grip your hips, "stop that." her voice is harsh, and you're reminded of the way she talked to miyeon over the phone, all cold and annoyed. it only makes you drip more at the tone of her voice and you whimper a little.

"do you?"

"do i what?" you're distracted, wanting only to kiss her again.

"do you have feelings for me?"

you sigh, "don't know- that's what i'm trying to figure out."

"how are you trying to figure it out?"

"kissing you. touching you. seeing if all of it made me feel something more."

"something more?"

"i don't know. something other than horny."

sana hums before finally loosening her grip. "okay. try it. just promise me you'll tell me what you think afterwards?"

you're quick to latch onto her lips again, mumbling yes and thank you into her.

she bucks her hips up against you and you moan. she was finally giving into her feelings and letting you do what you wanted, expressing herself freely.

“can you- mmf- can you-“

“what what is it baby? what do you need?”

“can you- be mad at me?”

she’s kissing down your neck, nipping slightly as you grind down into her, “i’m not mad at you. we talked about this just then baby.”

“no- i need- can you pretend to be mad?”

she’s licking up to your ear, “i don’t understand baby. can you elaborate?”

“f-fuck sana- can you- just imagine i did like miyeon and i wanted to fuck her-“

you’re scared you said the wrong thing and ruined the mood when she stills under you. then all of a sudden she’s rolling you over and straddling your hips, lips and teeth back at the sensitive parts on your neck. “you like it when i’m mad?”

“g-god yes sana please-“

“whore. you want me to mark you up? make sure everyone knows your mine? mine to ruin?”

“yes yes sana please-“

you moan when you feel her sucking at your collarbone, intending on doing exactly that.

"off." her hands are at the bottom of your shirt tugging, and you scramble up, almost knocking your forehead against hers in haste, you'd laugh but you were so pent up you couldn't think about anything other than her fucking you all night long.

her hands are cold when she slides them up your stomach, cupping your tits and you shiver at the feeling.

"trying to piss me off on purpose bringing up her name into this hm? after we just made up too." she squeezes and you gasp into her, nipples hard against her palms as she runs a thumb over the tip.

"think my pretty baby's going to come for anyone else?" she circles a nipple leaving you twitching, "i'm going to ruin you so that everytime you even come close to coming in the future, you'll only be able to think about me."

she's licking a trail down the middle of your chest, before sucking marks into the sides of your breasts, avoiding your nipples, only tracing them lightly with the tip of her thumb.

you're squirming around under her, begging and crying, eyes clenched shut, hand drifting down towards your folds, trying to alleviate some of the pressure that's built up.

she snatches your hand quickly and pins it above your head, "don't even fucking think about it."

you whine under her, trying to pull away from her grip but she has you completely under her control.

"don't do that baby. you asked for this didn't you? you're going to be a good girl and take it now." her lips come back down on your other tit, sucking and licking again, you're grinding up into nothing, stuck with the feeling of your own sticky arousal.

"p-please sana need- please- more-"

"what do you need baby? this?" she takes a nipple into her mouth then, sucking gently and flicking over it with her tongue, then popping it out of her mouth, "or this?" a hand trails lower, thumbing the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. "maybe this?" a knee comes up then, pressing right where you need her most and you’re moaning against her.

"g-god sana- fuck- all- all of it- god i need all of it-"

"be more specific sweetie. you can do it. c'mon now."

"f-fuck need you to fuck me like you said you would. need to feel your fingers inside me, your mouth wrapped around my clit, your hands gripping my ass so hard it'll leave behind handprints. just need you sana please- please-"

"mmm that's a good girl. begging for me like the slut you are. because you were so pretty i'll give you that. but you gotta talk me through it okay? if you stop i'll stop and i'm going to go fuck myself in your bed and leave you here for the rest of the night."

you whimper, nodding your head.

"words baby."

"yes, yes yes god please just-"

she smirks and then she's back at your nipples, fully sucking on them now and pulling your bottoms off along with your panties, immediately swiping a finger through your wetness. the sudden change from feeling nothing to feeling everything be stimulated was almost too much but also exactly what you needed.

"god sana please- inside- need you inside."

she's pushing one finger in and you feel yourself clench around her, already so close, desperate for her. suddenly you're remembering your actual task, but before you can formulate another thought she's pulling out and thrusting back in with another finger.

"god you're so wet for me baby. how long have you been thinking about this hm?"

"i- fuck- i'm never not thinking about you sana."

sana hums, keeping a slow, languid pace, "is that helping with your little mission tonight?"

"i- w- fuck sana faster please-"

"answer the question first."

"f-fuck i- i don't know- i c-can't think- please-"

she's pulling out and removing herself from you so that none of your skin is touching anymore.

"now? now can you think?"

"sana please fuck- yes! yes it's helping everything is helping please just need you back-" you're making grabby hands at her, trying to pull her back so you can feel her against you again.

she obliges, pushing back into you and humming, "that's a good girl."

"thank you- god sana- thank you- mm fuck thank you-" you're babbling, barely making sense when she speeds up, curling her fingers inside you just the way she knows you like, and rubbing her thumb along your clit each thrust inside.

soon enough, you're coming around her, her name and curses spilling out of your mouth but she's not done. she's crawling down your body, marking almost every inch of skin she can get her mouth on, and then latching onto your clit and sucking, fingers still pounding into you.

"f-fuck! sana! 's too much! f-fuck-"

she only hums against you, the vibrations against your clit only tightening the coil in your belly once more and the overstimulation is too much and you feel yourself coming again.

she's pulling out and you think she's finished but she flips you onto your stomach, slipping a pillow under you to lift your ass up, hands gripping the cheeks and spreading them apart, just like how you had begged her to. but then her fingers are prodding at your entrance again and she slides in, and this angle is so much deeper and you cry out, muffled against the sheets, trying to squirm away from her but she's got your ass right where she wants you.

she's leaning down, pushing in and out of you again, you can feel her chest against your back, the fact that she's still wearing her top fleetingly crosses your mind but you can still feel her hardened nipples against your skin, you arch back into her.

"my baby's not done yet. you're going to give me another one. and another one. until you've finished your little experiment right?"

you're sobbing into the sheets, the delightful mixture of pleasure and pain running through your body, your hyperaware of every single movement, every single place your skin touches, every breath she takes as she ruts her fingers into you.

you feel your third orgasm coming up when a hand is snaking a way back up your body, pinching roughly at your nipples before closing around your throat. you gulp and clench even harder around her fingers when she squeezes her hand lightly, moaning your approval.

"yeah? you like that slut?"

"y-yes o-oh god fuck- sana- fuck-"

she's squeezing tighter now and the pressure is perfect, the lightheadedness from the cutoff of oxygen combined with the overstimulation and you're coming again, thrashing into her as she releases you slowly, heaving in air as specks of black dot your vision.

you feel almost numb when she slides the pillow out from under you, turning you slightly so she can kiss you gently, and you moan at the taste of yourself on her tongue.

she's slipping a leg between yours when you realise that she's taken off her bottoms, and you gasp when the feeling of her wetness glides against your clit.

you whimper against her lips, "sana..."

"shhhh baby one more."

you're helpless against her, whining and pushing yourself into her, relishing the way her breath catches and she moans when your clits drag along each other. she's got one hand at your tit again, pinching a nipple and you need to feel more of her so you slide a hand up her top, grasping at her breast and moaning when she rocks against you just a little harder at the feeling.

your lips never leave each other, even when you're so blissed out you're just panting into her mouth, rutting against her. you're not even thinking straight when you mumble the words, slurred together and mixed with curses, but sana still catches it. "i love you."

she stops immediately, leaving you humping her like a dog, panting into her wondering why she's stopped.

she's gripping your hips, stilling you, eyes wide, "what did you just say?"

"i love you sana fuck- please- please let me come again please-"

her eyes study you, half-dazed, and then suddenly she's rutting against you again, your hands tighten around her tits just to be able to hold onto something because she's pushing against you and you're so close and her hands are basically moving your hips against hers without you even doing anything, she's moaning into your mouth, caught in her own pleasure and it's all too much when you feel her tighten her legs around you, coming with a whine and shaking, you come again, eyes closing and feeling the wave of pleasure wash over your body, twitching lightly against her in the aftershock.

when you pull apart your legs are sticky and filthy and hers aren't much better, stained with your essence, you can't even open your eyes, just letting her plant light kisses across your face and neck, holding her against you and learning to breathe again.

when she kisses your eyelids you manage to peek open, staring at her in wonder.

"did you mean it?" her eyebrows are slightly furrowed, hair sticking to her forehead, bottom lip protruding a little in a pout.

you were overcome with pleasure and overstimulation, but you remember everything you said. "i did. i love you. i'm sorry it took this long to realise it."

she sighs, eyes tearing up, "i love you too idiot."

"what about the season?"

"we'll figure that out later. let me clean you up and we can cuddle and sleep?"

you hum, whining when she leaves you to grab a damp towel, missing her warmth already. it felt painful to be without her. every second you spent apart, you were thinking about her, you can't help but laugh at how stupid you've been. you've been in love with sana for the better half of your life, you were determined to make it up to her. to show her just how much you loved her. just how much you needed her in your life.

you smile happily when she comes back, bringing her into a sweet kiss and letting her wipe at your legs. you were so, utterly, in love with her, and you finally realised it.

[starsinthesky5]

you are in love III || joe burrow x reader

description: you aren’t the only one that’s musically talented 😉

a/n: once again, this orange jersey makes me feral. and yeah this man can’t say he’s learning how to play the piano and expect me to act normal about it. nope.

this one is pretty short, kinda like a filler chapter that is inspired by piano joey. the next part for this mini series will prob take inspo from the request I got about the cannes trip, so it’ll be longgger and we’re going to pretend that the cannes event is in march for the purposes of this fic :)

warnings: smut, language

word count: 4.8 k

part 1 part 2

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March 

You listened to the loud patter of rain hitting the windows as the early spring storm raged outside your home one uneventful evening. You and Joe found yourselves wrapped up in each other's arms and absolutely bored out of your mind, you more than him. You’d been on the couch for about an hour now, Joe finding entertainment by online shopping while you were staring at the ceiling, waiting for him to notice. You were so bored that you turned to counting the number of times you heard rumbles of thunder, which wasn’t a lot compared to the amount of lightning flashes.

“Joe, I’m bored,” you gave up as you turned your head to him and watched him scroll mindlessly on his phone, seemingly looking at new shoes and clothes for your trip to Cannes in a few weeks.

“Watch TV or something,” he said, brushing off your clear boredom and going back to scrolling away on his phone. 

You look up at him, a scowl on your face as you start to get a little irritated at the fact that he isn’t doing anything to help your boredom. Cuddling could only do so much, and it wasn’t really doing a lot right now. “Joe-,”.

“Ooo, these are sick,” he whispers to himself, interrupting you as he taps on yet another pair of shoes he wasn’t going to buy. 

You let out a loud sigh as you moved out of his arms, his eyes darting towards you at the sudden loss of contact he felt when you moved out of his chest. You rolled your eyes and walked over to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine to hopefully distract you for the time being. You sat down on the barstool, pouring yourself a glass of wine as you looked up and saw the storm intensify, silently wishing (even though it was wrong) for the power to go out or a tree to fall down because that would provide some entertainment. 

Joe looked back at you for a few seconds, watching as you plopped down onto the barstool and looked drowsy since you had nothing productive to do. You both had plans to go out tonight and check out the newest floral additions to the Cincinnati Botanical Gardens, but the storm outside ruined that plan and your moods. 

He tossed his phone to the side, feeling guilty for ignoring you when you clearly needed something to do to keep you busy. You had been so excited to go to the gardens for weeks, your mutual fondness for flowers & natural beauty was something you bonded over pretty early on in your relationship, and it broke his heart when you couldn’t go and he had to watch you brush it off like it was fine. He hopped off the couch and walked over to where you were sitting, snaking his arms around your waist and setting his chin on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “I know you’re bored and I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that,”. 

You stayed silent for a few moments and didn’t react to what he was saying. Not that you were mad, you just enjoyed teasing him a little.

“Y/N?” He asked, moving his head a little to look at your face, which was stone cold. You took another sip of your wine as you heard him speak up again. “I’m really sorry, I mean it. Don’t be mad,” he said again, this time pressing two kisses to your cheek. You could feel his body tense up at your silence, now feeling bad for making him feel like this.

You placed your glass down onto the countertop, letting yourself fall back into his embrace as you placed your hands on his arms that were around your waist, relishing his touch. 

“It’s okay. I’m not mad, just teasing, I'm just a whiny baby because I can’t find anything to do,” you laughed. 

Joe let go of you and moved to sit on the barstool next to you, “Well, let’s find something to do then,” he smiled as he grabbed your wine glass and took a little sip.

“Okay, shoot,” you said. 

“How about writing? Working on music always keeps you busy and I wouldn’t mind sitting in on a little writing session and watching you work your magic,” he beams.

“Already hit the studio this morning while you were at the gym, remember? Besides, the album is almost done so not really much to do right now other than finishing touches and post-album production stuff,” you sigh. 

“Oh right, right,” he remembers. “Okay, how about baking something? Maybe cookies? I can help too,” he suggests. 

“Ran out of flour last week,” you frown. “I was going to ask if we could stop by the store on the way home from the gardens to pick some up so I could make Cinnamon Rolls tomorrow but well, that plan went down the drain,” you say as you run your fingers through your hair. 

“Damn. Okay, what about a movie? I know we’ve been meaning to watch the new Hunger Games movie for a while but never got around to it,” he asks, hoping to see your frown turn upside down into the smile he loves to see on your face, but it doesn’t. You just let out another sigh and bite your bottom lip, feeling bad that nothing was helping you feel better and he was trying his best. 

He watches as your face stays the same, feeling bad that he couldn’t do anything to help you. He felt that if you were in New York or LA, you could probably find something to keep you entertained and busy with no problem, but here you couldn’t. Joe sat there for a few seconds, contemplating what else to suggest to cure your boredom, and then had a lightbulb moment.

He reached out to grab your waist, easily picking you up off your barstool and placing you on his lap. “Joe, what’re you doing?” you giggled as he moved your legs so that you were seated comfortably on him.

He looked into your eyes for a few seconds, the feeling of him gazing deeply into you sending chills down your body before you felt him crash his lips against yours. You feel his hand fall down to your ass, softly kneading the plush skin through your leggings as he sucked on your bottom lip. He pulls away, “This always keeps us busy, right?” he laughs against your lips before going back to the kiss. You slowly wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer as your hands play with his soft hair. 

“My favorite way to pass time,” you smile as you pull away from his lips, taking in how his skin is glowing in the soft light of your home. 

“Sorry our garden plans got ruined,” he said, his smile dropping slightly. 

“Hey, that’s not your fault. The rain just doesn’t want us to take 50 thousand pictures of the gorgeous flowers,” you joke, causing a laugh to leave his lips. 

“Yeah, but it still sucks. We were looking forward to that for a while and it’s probably one of the few exciting things for you to explore around here. If you were in LA or New York you would never be bored like you are here. You probably feel like you’re trapped here,” he says, looking to the side to hide his guilt. He felt guilty because you gave up what looked like the dream lifestyle, to live with him. He loved Cincinnati, but it was nothing compared to the places you used to spend most of your time in, and you were here because of him. 

“Hey, don’t ever say that again,” you say, moving his face so that he was looking into your eyes. “I chose to move here with you. I don’t give a damn about the flashy shit any other place had to offer. Neither of those places has the thing that truly makes me happy, and that’s you. As long as you’re here, I don’t care about being bored and I certainly don’t feel trapped. Besides, Cincy is far from boring. Not a week passes by that I’m not running around the city with the girls or discovering new things,” you add, watching his gloomy expression brighten at your reassuring words. “I just wanted to do something with you, that’s all,” you finish by pressing a kiss to his soft lips. 

“And I still get to do what I love from here,” you add. “I didn’t really see myself permanently being in Los Angeles or New York anyway. You know that I love lowkey,” you smile. 

“Is this lowkey enough for you?” He asks, referring to the house and the life you were now a part of. 

“Oh, 100%,” you nod. “I could def go out to the patio and scream ‘I love Joe Burrow’ at the top of my lungs through a megaphone without the paparazzi showing up,”.

He lets out a soft laugh before saying, “They won’t show up, but you might tip off the fan girls and they’ll figure out where we live,”.

“I guess I’ll have to pull out these guns,” you joke as you show off your arm muscles. “I think I can fight off the Burrow girlies. Maybe even bribe them with a peek at some photos of you on my phone,” you wink.

“Okayyy, I think that’s enough,” he says as he rolls his head around, then moves it back to meet your eyes. Nobody needed to see the photos you had of Joe on your phone. Some were silly and innocent, but some were a little too spicy for the public eye. “You always know how to get rid of the doubts in my mind,” Joe laughs as he rubs your thigh. 

“What would you ever do without me?” you tease as you press a kiss to his cheek. “But in all seriousness, don’t say that again. You know I love it here, no reason to overthink it,” you say, softening your serious words with another kiss but this time to his perfect nose.

“Okay,” he laughs. “No more overthinking from here on out,”.

“Good. If you said one more thing, I’d have your ass sleep out in the rain,” you joke.

“Hm, if you kicked me out then we wouldn’t be able to do this,” he says as he starts to trail kisses up your neck. 

“I guess you’re right,” you say as you pull his face out of your neck and back up to your face, pressing your lips against his and running your hands across his chest. 

You feel him get off the barstool with you still in his lap. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist as he carries you both back to the couch, his lips remaining glued to yours the entire time. You feel him nipping your lip, causing you to moan into the kiss while feeling heat climb up your body and that warm feeling inside of you getting stronger. 

He sits down on the couch and places you next to him, both of you ripping off your clothes with urgency, then feeling yourself fall back flat against the couch with Joe on top of you.

Your lips met in another messy kiss as you felt Joe guide himself in between your drenched folds, eventually slipping inside you all the way, causing you to let out a throaty moan at the sudden fullness.

“Joe,” you gasp, throwing your head back against the couch. He began pressing kisses along your collarbone, before moving up your neck and back to your lips. Your hands moved to his back, scratching his soft skin, leaving red marks as breathy moans escaped your lips at the feeling of him thrusting into your wet heat.

“Sound so pretty,” he smirks as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. His hand lifts your leg up and bends your knee, allowing him to move deeper. You feel your wetness coating your lower halves, your eyes moving down and watching as he slides in and out of your core with each rough thrust. 

“F- Fuck, you feel so good,” you whimper, moving your hands into his hair and pulling him closer to you. 

The next few minutes pass by like a dream as Joe continues to send your body to its pleasure, your breathy moans and sounds of skin hitting skin filling the house as he continues to pound into you. Your name was on his lips as if he was chanting a sacred prayer. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You feel so-,” he rasps but you cut him off with another moan, this one a little louder than the rest as he just hit a spot inside you that he hadn’t before. 

“Joe, Oh my god,” you whine as you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. Nothing could compare to the feeling of him inside of you. This was your favorite and best way to pass time, and you could do this for eternity and manage to never get bored of it. You felt your arousal building up with each well-placed thrust, just mere moments away from reaching your high. Your skin was heating up and your breath hitched every time he rutted into your slit. 

“I’m close,” you moan, throwing your head to the side and closing your eyes. Your hand gripped the couch pillow as you were struggling to hold yourself together. You felt his hand move down to your clit, fondling with the sensitive bud to set off your pleasure. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he felt your walls fluttering around his cock.

“Joe,” you screamed as you felt him move his hand away from your clit, just as you were about to cum. “Why’d you s- stop?” you rasped. 

“Hang on,” he said as he was increasing the pace of his thrusts, which was only increasing your need for feeling your high.

“Shit, Joe. I’m gonna cum,” you panted as you moved your head back up to meet his eyes, 

“Wait for me,” he ordered, his hands moving to grip your waist and his pace becoming more frantic. 

“Oh, Joe,” you hissed, your muscles tensing and hips bucking against his. 

“Fuck, I’m almost there,” he groaned. You moved your lips down to his neck, sucking on his soft golden skin, searching for his sweet spot. You knew you found it when you felt his head drop down to your shoulder and his lips softly biting your skin.

“God, you’re so good,” he mumbled against your skin as his thrusts became sporadic, signaling he was close. 

“Joe, I can’t,” you pant as you struggle to hold in your release. 

“It’s okay,” he says as he moves his hand back down to your clit, his fingers rubbing circles around the bud as your walls convulse around his cock again. You were about to cum, but this time he was right there with you.

“I’m cumming,” you whimpered as you felt a wave of ecstasy wash over you, feeling your body shake violently at your release. At the same time, Joe lets out a groan before you feel his cock twitch inside of you, then feeling his release coat your walls. 

“Oh my god,” he moans as he slows his thrusts, eventually stopping while pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. 

“Holy shit,” you pant, your heart racing from the aftermath of your orgasm, your hand stuffed in his hair as he breathes against your shoulder. Both of you trying to come back down to earth after feeling shocks of pure pleasure light your bodies on fire. 

“You still bored?” Joe chuckles as he lifts his head out of your shoulder, his hair all messy and his lips swollen from all your kisses. 

“Nope,” you smile as you press a sweet kiss to his lips. You both spend a few moments basking in the post-sex afterglow before you feel Joe gently slide out of you, then feeling him get off of you. 

You crane your neck to the side as you watch him grab his clothes from the pile on the floor, putting on his sweatpants but handing you his long-sleeved shirt. 

“Here, put this on,” he said, handing you his shirt but placing it on the couch so he could help you up first. 

He reaches for your waist, moves you up, and places a pillow behind your back for extra comfort. “Thank you,” you smile at the sweet gesture, then reach for his shirt to put on. You slip on the light green long-sleeved shirt and then reach down to grab your pink lace panties. As you're putting them on, you see Joe walk back to the kitchen from the corner of your eye. 

“You need help with anything?” You wince as you turn around, your entire body tired and sore.

“I’m good. Just making you coffee,” He says, shooting you a smile before pulling out a mug from the cabinet. 

You turn back around, a content smile on your face as you relish the feeling of your boyfriend taking such good care of you. Life couldn’t possibly get better than this. Your caring boyfriend was walking around the kitchen in just his sweatpants, making you a cup of coffee after rearranging your guts while you were curled up on the couch in his shirt. You don’t know what you did to deserve someone so dreamy & precious like Joe, but you definitely were not complaining.

Joe knew you deserved this. You deserve to be loved without any limitations, to be respected and supported by someone who understands the real you. He made it his job to make sure you felt comfortable, loved, and appreciated when you were with him; and he made sure you felt that way even if you weren’t. So yeah, placing a pillow behind your back, getting you a cup of coffee, and giving you his shirt to put on didn’t really seem like a lot, but it was everything that you wanted and it made you feel all those things. The little things in a relationship were what you craved, and Joe was exceptional at making it happen. 

“I also got you a slice of the Banana Bread my Mom brought over the other day,” he said as he placed the plate and cup next to you, snapping you out of your daze. 

“Thank you, Joey,” you grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips before he walked back to the kitchen to clean up. 

You grabbed the coffee mug and took a little sip, tasting the rich vanilla flavor as it warmed your cold body. You then took a bite of the Banana Bread his Mom had made for you both, you never got tired of her baking because it tasted just like your Mom’s. You grabbed your phone from the table and immediately pulled up her contact to send her a text, asking for the recipe and letting her know that it was delicious. 

“Mmm, this is so good,” you groan as you take another bite. “Joe, you gotta have some,” you say as you turn around, but he wasn’t there. He was instead sitting at the Piano that you had got for the house. You stayed quiet, pursing your lips as you placed the snacks back down and turned your body so that you were facing him, his back to you. You could see faint scratches along his back from your nails, taking note that you should probably put some moisturizer on his back when you go upstairs. He looked so good right now, the sight of him at your piano, shirtless, was sending you into orbit. 

Before you could say something, you heard a melodious tune fill the air, a familiar one. You watched as Joe worked his fingers along the keys of the piano, playing a song that he had been working on for the past few weeks. When you first got the Piano for the living room, he had asked you if he could also use it, which came to your surprise since he didn’t know how to play. 

Flashback to February  

“But you don’t know how to play?” you asked as you ran your fingers across the keys of the piano.

“I have the best teacher in the entire world at my fingertips though,” he smiled as he moved his hand on top of yours as you played a few notes; his touch was so gentle and so warm.

“You really want to learn how to play piano?” you asked, looking up at him.

“I really want to learn how to play piano,” he nodded. “If you can throw a football back and forth with me, I can learn how to do what you do,”.

You stared up at him for a few seconds before saying, “Deal” and watching his face light up at your response. There was no way Joe was actually going to learn how to play the Piano right? He was an athlete, not a musician; unless he was Troy Bolton and had a secret hidden musical talent.

“I’ll give him 2 weeks before he quits,” you thought to yourself. 

End of Flashback

He didn’t quit. He passed the two-week marker and still was keen on learning how to play, even sitting at the Piano without you and playing by himself using tutorials and testing out his own ideas. It was truly incredible how he picked it up so quickly, and he always was so eager to show off his skills to you. 

He kept playing, the song he chose was ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ by Arctic Monkeys, one of his personal favorites. 

“Secrets I have held in my heart, Are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours. I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours. Wanna be yours,” you whispered, singing the part of the song he was playing on the Piano. 

You were about to sing the next lines, but then you heard the sounds coming from the Piano shift to another tune by a seamless transition. This one was even more familiar and made your eyes widen.

 He was playing ‘Endgame’, your song. The song you wrote about the desire to be Joe’s Endgame. It touched on your reputations and how you both had a pretty big one and together would be the talk of the town, which you were. It talked about how you wanted to be the one for him and the things you both went through to bring you to one another. It mentioned how captivated you are by him, his eyes, his body; his handprints all over your soul that could never be smeared. You wanted Joe in your life forever.

This song was the final addition to the album, which had been heavily inspired by Joe, and he was playing it on the Piano for you, and not the other way around. He had never asked to learn how to play one of your songs, so this took you by surprise. 

You watched as he pressed all the right keys, hit every note, and played the song effortlessly. Your stomach was now filled with butterflies as the smile on your face got bigger. You got off the couch and slowly walked over to him, singing the lyrics of the song to match what he was playing on the Piano. 

“I don't wanna hurt you, I just wanna be, Drinking on a beach, With you all over me. I know what they all say, But I ain't trying to play,” you sing as you cup the nape of his neck with your hand, rubbing your fingers into his soft skin. A smile appears on Joe’s face as he hears you singing while he plays your song.  

“I wanna be your end game. I wanna be your first string. I wanna be your A-Team. I wanna be your end game, end game,” you sing as you slide onto the bench next to him and rest your head against his shoulder, ghosting your fingers over his as they dance around the keys. Your heart was exploding right now, no guy had ever done this–played your song for you. He was serenading you in the best possible way. 

“Big reputation, big reputation. Oh, you and me, we got big reputations. Ah, and you heard about me. Oh, I got some big enemies. Big reputation, big reputation. Oh, you and me would be a big conversation. Ah, and I heard about you. Oh, you like the bad ones too,” you sing as you hear the Piano fade out. 

You stay silent for a few seconds as you try to process what just happened, tears filling your eyes at the plethora of emotions you are experiencing. The fact that he just played a song you wrote about him, to you, was something you couldn’t comprehend. You felt Joe’s hand move from the keys to yours, entwining your fingers and bringing them up to his lips to press a kiss. 

“You’ve gotten really good at that,” you say, breaking the silence as you turn your head to look up at him.

“Learned from the best of the best,” he smiled. 

“You killed it, Joe. Seriously, I have your Grammy waiting upstairs,” you laughed. “When did you even have time to learn ‘Endgame’? I finished that song not that long ago,” you added.

“Well, I found a copy of your sheet music on the table and started practicing it when you weren’t at home,” he chuckled. You looked into his eyes again, your eyes a little glossy and his filled with adoration. 

“What?” he asked, noticing your teary expression. 

“Thank you,” you said as you wiped your eyes. 

“For what, Y/N?” he asked as he moved his hand to cup your face and wipe the tears that fell from your eyes. 

“Nobody has ever done that for me and you- you just,” you say, not being able to find words that would express your feelings. 

“No reason to thank me,” he says. “I’m just appreciating the talents of the most gifted and extraordinary Woman I have ever met in my entire life,” he says, making your heart explode again. “You deserve to be shown how amazing you are, musically & as a person,”. 

“Besides, I know you love the little things,” he winks. 

“You are truly the best Man I have ever met in all the years I have been alive,” you smile before pressing a big kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he says against your lips before going back for another one.

“And I love you,” you say back, pressing more kisses around his face. “I should get you in the studio with me next time. I think a Piano feature is in your future,” you wink. 

“Oookay, I know I’m good but let’s not go that far yet,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Whatever you say, Troy Bolton,” you joke. He rolls his eyes at you as you cite ‘High School Musical’, which you happened to force him to watch with you a few weeks ago.

“Don’t be mad,” you shrug. “Not my fault you’re athletically and musically talented,”. 

“I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?” he laughs.

“Never,” you say as you press another kiss to his lips, his hand moving to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Then, you feel his hands wrap around your waist, picking you up off the bench and carrying you up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” you giggle as you pull away from the kiss.

“Round 2, obviously,” he scoffs.

“Ohhh,” you nod. “I did get pretty worked up seeing you playing the Piano with a bedhead and just in sweats,”.

“I knew you would,” he smiled as he opened your bedroom door.

“Do I get to be serenaded again after we’re done?” you ask him, tilting your head and praying he would play again for you. 

“If you’re lucky,” he winks as he places you down on the bed.

You reach out and pull him down to the bed next to you, then throwing your leg over his hips so that you are straddling him. 

“Then I’ll make sure I get lucky,” you whisper as you lean down to kiss him.

–The End–

[raspberrybesitos]

Woven in the Stars | din djarin x f!reader

Main masterlist

Series Summary: Instead of navigating the galaxies, Din is navigating his new home life with Grogu on the ourskirts of Nevarro. In doing so, he meets you - a seamstress in town. The two of you form a beautiful bond through helping him adjust to domesticity in his secluded cabin. Throughout the time you share together, the bond you have flourishes into something more that can no longer be contained.

Rating: 18+ MDNI (All ageless blogs will be blocked.)

Series Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, yearning, simp!Din, domestic!Din, dad!Din, soft!Din, lil bit of OOC!Din, masturbation (female + male), eventual smut, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), oral (f and m receiving), reader has a birth control implant, breeding kink, spitting, fingering, Din is an ass man, possessive!Din, so much fluff, aftercare, lots of pet names, some POV switching, post-season 3, breaking the rules of the Creed, probs inaccurate star wars info, Din Djarin is referred to as Din and i’m not sorry, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, may change as I write (:

A/N: this whole idea struck while i was with my bff a while back. we were listening to “Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves and we both agreed that song is so Din coded so… here we are lol. i began writing domestic!Din back in October, and then i saw this STUNNING moodboard by @wildemaven and it fueled my brain rot even further! this will be divided into a few parts, and include an epilogue. i’m such a sucker for mutual pining slow burn 🫠 i hope y’all enjoy! 🫶🏼

Divider by the lovely @saradika

Chapters

Chapter 1: Stitching Serenity

Chapter 2: Cosmically Sewn

Chapter 3: Unraveling Tapestry

Chapter 4: Moonlit Stitches

Chapter 5: Threads of Destiny

Chapter 6: Celestial Whispers

Epilogue: Etched in Stardust

[journen]

do you have a list of good CoD fanfics, or favorite writers in general?? <3

Presented in no particular order, here are some of my personal faves / fics I really enjoyed, and my own summaries for them. Hopefully you enjoy, thanks for the ask, anon!!!

I didn't tag all the authors because I'm not sure if they all have tumblrs, but also I'm shy tagging people ahjdfhkaheje. If any authors here are mentioned tho and you have a tumblr, feel free to lmk and I can update this post to include your tag!!:)

Anything rated mature I colour coded the name in red, and anything explicit green. Not all the mature fics feature smut, but yeah! I didn't want to link anything tooooo explicit here, but if anyone wants any, I can definitely rb this post to add a few more 😅

Also, just beware the tags on any of these fics because some feature kind of heavy subject matter. 👍

COF FIC REC LIST:

A Very MacTavish Christmas - @m3rrywe4ther

Prob my fav fic in the fandom lololol. HUGE RECCOMMEND. It's about Johnny who gets roped into spending the holiday Christmas season with his , for the most part, very not so nice family, and Simon accompanies him. So much stuff happens in this fic and it's such a great character exploration of Simon and Johnny independently, but also as a couple, and just so much stuff happens in it lol again, HUGE RECOMMEND!!!

We'll make Death Proud to Take us - Literal_Satan

Fic where, it starts off really sweet where Simon goes to Scotland with Johnny to spend Christmas with him and his family, but things take a drastic turn when Soap's brother, a police officer/detective, gets a little too curious about mysterious Simon, and the story spirals from there. All the guys end up on this crazy goose chase tracking down some of the people who were involved in Roba's brainwashing operations. The fic gets v dark at times and deals with some very heavy trauma so beware, but it's SO. GOOD.

Dream a Little Dream - Angelicasdean

Again, one of my total fav fics in the fandom!! AU where Simon leaves the army to raise his nephew Joseph, who's the sole survivor of the Riley family massacre, and Johnny is one of the daycare teachers at the daycare where Simon takes Jo 🥺🥺👍👍

Pretend to love me like I do - FetteEule

Really cute fic of Simon who accompanied Johnny to Scotland for his sister's wedding, under the ruse they are dating. They are v much pining but not there yet. Features lots of really cute domestic moments and Simon being really sweet to Johnny's kid nephew 😭🧡

Something important - Anonymous

One of the fics that has me totally brainrotted rn. It's about Simon's who's been de-aged to 6 years old, and Price, Gaz and Soap all taking care of him and trying to figure out how he got turned, and how to turn him back! They all get tested on their abilities to care for a child, and unwillingly learn a lot of details about Simon's childhood they never knew. This summary doesn't do it justice tho, so I'd just recommend checking it out! Beware tho again, there is some dark childhood trauma stuff but there are warnings at the start of each chapter that contains references to it.

Seasons - StinglessWasp

In this fic every chapter is set during a different season and tells a unique sort of story/mission/interaction Soap and Ghost have. Definitely some v good angst&hurt/comfort stuffs too. Starts off pre-relationship, and explores their characters a lot! It's just really good HUGE reccommend lol.

What the Eyes Don't see - WhiplashRogue

One of my FAVESSSS! So the premise is like, Soap can actually see ghosts ever since he was a child (which most other people can't see and also don't believe in), and Ghost has 2 spirits attached to him that follow him around(Joseph, and Roach). The fic starts off pre relationship, and it mostly about Soap trying to learn more about these two spirits and discovering more about Ghost's past.

All that's said in the Low Light - Headlocket

Probably one of the most emotional I've ever read LMFAO. It's about Johnny, who receives a back & knee injury bad enough he gets discharged from the army, and is back in Scotland living with his parents as he recovers. He and Ghost lost contact a bit since the accident, and it's sort of a story of them reconnecting. This description doesn't do it justice, just read it, but it will emotionally destroy you lol

Time Loops Suck (series) - Enter_fand0m_reference00

The first installment of the fic takes the idea that Soap is stuck in a time loop during the alone mission! And all the optional dialogues and interactions in thE alone mission are separate attempts of his trying to survive the loops and rendez vous with Ghost. It's just sooo good!! And then there's a follow up fic where it deals with the mental aftermath of the loops and Ghost comforting soap through it, then there's 2 other installments of Simon who instead goes through a time loop! They are such great character explorations in how both Soap and Ghost experience the loops, and I whooleee heartedly reccommend.

Yellow Card - SkerryB

Soccer au fic!! It's so good! Simon is the captain of a soccer team Soap is drafted to as their new goalie. Simon has had a history with Soap before though, that he was the only goalie Simon could never score on! So that's how it starts, and it's just so good from there!! Simon's family are also alive in the fic and his nephew is adorable.

You swept me off my feet - @ghoulishhone

Ghost is down bad for strong Soap, the fic xD This was a fic Ghoulishone and I were paired together to work on for the Ghostsoap server reverse bang! They wrote the fic and I made some accompanying art. Just a cute fic of Soap having to pick up Ghost after he gets injured and some other shenanigans that ensues:)

Dear Mr Ghost - @shortcuts-make-long-delays

SUCH A CUTE FIC!! The majority of the fic is these letter/pen pal exchanges between Ghost, and Soap's young niece Chloe...it's just. So. Good. And was written by a friend of mine too! BIG RECCOMMEND.

Give me Hope and Let me Down - MechanicalBones

Some of the best Ghost whump I read lolll. Ghost is captured by some people with ties to Roba and tortured. Meanwhile Soap is on his way to rescue him, and eventually he does, and there's a lot of hurt and comfort. It's also a getting together fic. 🥺

Unspoken Love - Hammy101

( Super amazing oneshot. I feel I can't do this fic justice with any summary. Just read it. 🥺 It has decent Ghost whump AND domestic off duty cute ghost soap angsty stuff it's just one of my faves ever!!!!)

Except You, You can Stay - Iravaid

Really realistic, believable portrayal and expansion upon a lot of the key events that happen in the Ghost comics. From his childhood, to the mental aftermath of Roba, his family dying...it's heavy but really really good. And has a happier hopeful ending that's Ghost/Soap 🥺

Hat Trick of the Heart and the sequel Family, Gotta Love em - Librarian_FanFicFan

Absolutely am obsessed with these fics!!! It's an AU about Ghost who is recently discharged from the military due to injury, and on a flight back to London where he is seated next to Soap, a famous footballer/soccer player. Ghost doesn't know who he is tho, but they hit it off and exchange numbers. The second installment features Simon's family!!! And Tommy being dramatic and shocked over the fact his brother got the number of this famous sports player... SUPER CUTE IF YOU LIKE RILEY FAMILY STUFF.

As for my fav CoD authors I wholeheartedly recommend anything by:

RedClegane, m3rrywe4ther, Hammy101, TheEdwardianOne, Iravaid, and so many authors but I can't list them all ahaha...but hopefully this is a good start!

Hopefully this helps anon! Sorry it took me a while.

[nyctoaerah]

AERAH, I BEG OF YOUUU, I SAW YOUR POST ON QUOTEV, PLEASE, PLEASE, ATLEAST A SNEAK PEAK OF THE UPCOMING FIC? OR THE ONE WHERE YOU SAID ON YOUR IG THAT YOU'RE POSTING A ONESHOT ABT GETO! PLS PLS, ANY OF THAT, JUST A SNEAK PEAK, I BEG YOUU, I'M GETTING SO FANFIC DEPRIVED AND I'M SUCH A WHORE FOR YOUR IMMACULATE WRITING 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐋

“ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 ”

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Satoru’s sister started to have an unusual cravings for blood after managing to tame habakiri, and Suguru is there to help her.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: vampirism (lmfao), sexual stuff, cannibalism (habakiri), blood

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Fem! Gojo’s Sister! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: just a sneakpeek cause i still haven't written the chapter 11 of idiosyncrasies, and this oneshot is in between the timeline of chapter 14-15 and it's a smut one at that LMAO💀 so i probs won't upload it until i finish chapter 14 of idiosyncrasies pookie. And HELP, the new fic i was talking about on quotev is devil in disguise, and i already posted it on tumblr but not in quotev HAHHA. Also, this might be confusing if you guys haven't read the chapter 9 of idiosyncrasies/haven't read idiosyncrasies. I SWEAR, I’LL DO THE OTHER REQS SOON.😭 I just did this one ‘cause i’ve already wrote some of it. Also, hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated<3

Masterlist

The crimson rivulets of his blood trickles down your chin, the exquisite taste of the sanguine liquid staining your lips. Your teeth bore small smudges of red, smearing them like fallen blood on freshly fallen snow.

Using his unoccupied hand, he cradled your chin, his thumb and middle finger. His forefinger to brushed away the residual droplets of blood on the curve of your lips and wiped them away from your chin too.

“Never thought that you had such an appetite for blood...” he murmured, sensing your touch descending down from his shoulders and going southward on his abdomen. Your fingers sought purchase on his firm abdominal muscles.

“I have an idea as to why you have it though...”

“It’s because you’re habakiri’s owner, isn’t it?” Suguru murmurs, the memory of how you had managed to subdue the bloodthirsty sword, to make it submit to your will without it killing you still lingers in his mind. But perhaps, in doing so, you had inadvertently sated its voracious appetite, if only momentarily.

Your body tenses imperceptibly at his observation, and he responds with a knowing smile, his touch gentle against your skin.

“There’s no shame in it, you know?” he reassures in a hushed tone, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip, coaxing it to part slightly.

“And why is that so?”

Curiosity colors your words as you inquire.

“You two share the same traits, that ensures that it won’t eat you, after all, it won’t turn on his master.” he muses with a faint hum, his gaze unwavering.

“Furthermore,” he interjects with a teasing tone,

“It makes you look like a vampire...” He says.

“And.. fuck, it might seem weird but vampires are sexy in my point of view.” He confessed, a laugh bubbling on his throat.

“Hm? ‘s that so?” You asked hesitantly.

“Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Nope, Your predilection doesn’t scare me in the slightest,” he whispered softly, nibbling pensively at his lower lip as his gaze remained fixed upon you.

“In fact, I found it rather... alluring,” he admitted in a low voice.

“Do you truly not mind, then?” you inquired, though his assurance had already been vocalized.

“I don’t.”

“You don’t?...” You questioned, your voice wavering in uncertainty.

“You’re too pure for your own well, Geto,” you sighed, shaking your head disapprovingly. 

The unexpected reaction that Suguru received was far from the jubilation he had expected.

Is the pessimistic trait a common trait inherited on the Gojo clan?

Suguru thought, he wanted to release an exasperated groan; you were single-handedly sabotaging the moment once again. Though he cherished your idiosyncrasies, he longed for you to simply revel in the present moment.

Just as he prepared to interject, your hand abandoned its place on his abdomen, navigating its way to his cheek, tenderly caressing the contours of his face. Once again, your mixed signals were a labyrinth he struggled to navigate. 

“You’re seriously letting a bloodthirsty woman in your bed, Geto?”

Your brows furrowed in a contemplative manner, your delicate fingers caressing his cheek as you tip your head to the side, a look of utter confusion etched upon your features.

“Suguru,”

he implores softly.

“Call me Suguru,” he insists, clasping your hand tenderly and drawing it nearer to his warm cheek.

“Suguru,” you repeat in a gentle whisper, the syllables of his name effortlessly gliding off your tongue.

A contented smile graces his lips as he nods in approval.

“That's it,” he affirms with a quiet hum of satisfaction.

“You haven’t answered my question yet, Suguru..”

You venture forth with your query, your voice barely above a murmur, as his gaze meets yours.

“Ah, about that?”

He inquired, a single eyebrow arching in intrigue as he watched your hand slipping away from his,  The warmth of your touch lingered on his cheek before your fingers finding their way to the bulb of muscle at the neck base, caressing it softly, before your hand pressed onto the twin punctures that you left on his neck.

“I would.” He breathed out sincerely.

“doesn't matter if you're a monster or not...” he whispered.

“I don't mind having a monster in my bed if it’s you,”

Your expression softened at his words before a sharp yelp escaped your lips as he firmly seized your hips, deftly maneuvering to shift his weight and flipping your positions easily so that he’s the one on top of you now.

Your breath caught in your throat, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you sank into the softness of the pillow, your silken tresses sprawling across the expanse of the mattress, you could basically feel the rapid drumming of your heart within your ribcage.

“Want you so bad...” he whispered.

A shiver ran through you, your gaze fixated on his form as he leaned in, lips parted, his teeth grazing his lower lip with a fervor that drew forth an errant droplet of crimson, tracing a path down his chin.

Your pupils dilated at the sight, fingers twitching.

“Suguru...” The word fell from your lips, the syllables laced with a hint of restraint.

“You started it...” he mumbled, brows twitching as he looked at you.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this..” He says in a low voice.

“What were you even thinking?... Climbing onto my lap, biting me, kissing me.. tasting me without thinking that there’s no consequences to that...”

His fingers threaded through the strands of your hair, a gentle tug coaxing you even closer until your lips were mere inches apart. 

“So, come now,” he murmured, a sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips as his onyx colored eyes bore into you.

“Finish what you started, Angel.”

[kooktrash]

love lies | jeon jungkook [1]

summary: an arrogant womanizer who’s spent his life numb to love. an unlovable romantic who’s been hurt one too many times. he’s your friend’s ex boyfriend but he tells you he wants you. he’s obsessive and you’re not as much of a victim as you make yourself out to be. you’ll both do whatever it takes to get what you want.

warnings: 14.3k. angst. smut. future yandere jungkook. college student au. rich kid jungkook. f!reader. unhealthy attachment.. slutshaming. toxic friendships. implied emotional trauma from both ends. you want to be loved [cassie howard tease]. jungkook is obsessive. both are toxic, one just shows it more. daddy issues/mommy issues. jungkook dated your friend. stalking. unprotexted sex. my boy can go to to town. multiple orgasms. slight degradation. riding. oral [f recieving] missionary. love bites. and probs a lot more warnings. series. MINORS DNI

part one is acc pretty soft compared to how the rest of the chapters will go

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He never considered himself the type to be so easily swooned. A man with looks, charm, and money never had difficulty choosing who and what he wanted. He’s not sure he’s ever been told no whether it be for something as small or big of a want. It’s been an easily life, a spoiled one that made him think he can have and do whatever he wanted.

And it was true to some extent. He’s soaring through University with not-so-great grades, he’s got a high paying position in his father’s architecture company waiting for him, he’s never short of women. He’s a man who knows how to get what he wants and makes sure he always gets it. What else could he have wanted? To keep it simple, you.

You’re not a stranger nor a familiar but he knows that what he’s experiencing right now, he’s never experienced before. There’s a ringing in his ears he swears were similar to bells. A feeling in his chest bubbling up almost causing him pain but in the most blissful way possible. It’s that feeling in your heart where it feels a sudden ache when reacting to something in a positive way. It’s almost like the same tug on your heartstrings when you’re broken but it’s opposite. Like reading a love letter and your heart seems to drop in joy. That’s the only way he can explain what he felt when he saw you again.

The world seemed to stop spinning. Everyone froze in blurs of faceless people. The only person in focus was you, under red and blue hues that danced across your face like sneak peaks into your entire beauty. Small peaks into the shape of your eyes under shadow, the curve of your lips as you spoke, the hips hugged perfectly by a pretty skirt. His heart skipped a beat when a light shone above almost like a spotlight aimed right at you for him to see. It seemed like you and him were the only ones living in the present. The only ones in clarity among the phases of people with no focus. Had you always had this magnetic pull? He remembered always thinking you were attractive but never like this.

At one single moment, his eyes trailed from your heeled feet up the length of your legs to the end of your minidress. Your hips next and then your waist, to your bust up the valley of your neck and to your lips. The bridge of your nose and then finally your eyes. A pair of hypnotizing eyes staring back at him yet you speak to another. The same eyes he’d stare at through the course of his brief encounters with you and yet it was never this intense. He always knew you were around but this time you were front and center in his mind.

Everyone unfroze but he didn’t notice. His eyes locked on yours as you walked and talked to whoever was next to you. It couldn’t have been more than a couple seconds but it felt like an eternity. And when you finally pulled your gaze away from him as if there hadn’t been such an intensity burning through both your gazes. He could feel the burn in his eyes as they threatened to water but he blindly let them follow after the ghost of you through the crowd. His lips slightly parted in complete awe. He didn’t think of anything else but your moving head through the crowded bodies pressed against each other. There wasn’t an ounce of focus on the people he came with. His foot lifted, mid-step forward ready to take the lead and go after you.

A hand hit his arm in a gentle but firm pat on his shoulder. It seemed to snap him out of a trance he hadn’t known he was in. His head whipping over to the source who only flashed him a wide grin holding a brown liquor in his cup. Jung Hoseok laughed at Jungkook’s blank and off-guard expression and shook him by the shoulder, “You okay there? You zoned out on us.”

Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to even think about what his friend had just asked him. The other two joined them waiting for his response and yet he didn’t give one. Instead he turned toward the general area he’d seen you in and left. He could hear them snicker behind him as to what his deal was but he didn’t care. His drink was brought to his mouth by his tatted hand as his eyes locked on your location chugging back the liquor before dropping the cup on the floor.

You were at the bar, head hung low listening to another girl say things into your ear. He knew you both and you knew him too. Jungkook slid in easily as the person on the stool next to yours emptied and he took ownership. Your friend noticed him first but he kept his gaze forward like he was just waiting to order a drink. His black and gray Dior button-up rolled up to his elbows exposing a forearm covered in intricate ink. His credit card was black with a gold lining and a gold emblem on the cover and he tapped it against the counter.

“Let’s go Y/n, there’s unwanted company,” your friend said as Jungkook told the bartender his order while simultaneously easedropping. He couldn’t help the upward curl of his lips in a smirk that was neither impressed or offended. “Namjoon invited his friend out tonight to meet you. Why don’t you just give him a chance? They’re waiting for us in our section.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the way his jaw tensed. He couldn’t have you leaving to another guy right now that he’s attempting to approach you. As if reading his mind, you shook your head no in an answer, not giving her anything more in a form of response and yet it was enough for her to understand. You didn’t want to do anything at the moment but sit at this bar alone. You looked up to Jungkook releasing a heavy sigh when you recognized him and turned your chair away from him even more. Fine, is that how you want to play?

Your friend seemed to hesitate at your silent response. She wanted to push for you to go with but there was nothing leaving her lips. Instead she nodded looking at everyone around you before turning to leave. You watched her go for a moment probably deep in thought before turning to face the bar. Jungkook could practically feel the soft sigh that escaped your lips on his skin. A warm fan of air that he’s not sure how he felt but he did. Goosebumps rose on his skin and her he couldn’t understand what he was feeling right now.

He’s never felt this intense attraction toward anyone in his life. He’s floated through life seemingly bored. No excitement, no change and he never realized how boring it all seemed until recently. Where’s the joy of having to work for something? What happens to someone who’s always had his way? It’s exhausting. No fight. No questions. Any woman he’s wanted, he’s managed to bed and then he throws them away like it was nothing. Every opportunity he’s been given he’s never had to work for it. He’s never had to think for himself and he’s never known struggle. The strangest part is that he knew you, not well but he did. He’s spent time at your apartment, he’s made out with your friend on your couch. He’s dumped that friend of yours when someone better came along and yet here he was trying to talk to you. You clearly seemed upset about something but that only intrigued him more. He wanted to know why your feelings were so displayed on your sleeve at the moment. It was weird to him, to see someone so open with how they felt but he knew he was the problem and not whatever you felt. Your feelings are not numb like his and maybe that’s why he felt such excitement locking his gaze with yours just moments before. In your eyes he could see every emotion he’s never felt.

“Excuse me,” his eyes seemed to roll to the back of his head, breath heavy as he inhaled deeply at the sound of your voice. It wasn’t soft but it wasn’t harsh. Had your voice always had this effect on him? Why wouldn’t you even look at him? It was a melody he couldn’t quite put his finger on but something that sent electricity dancing across his skin. You weren’t even talking to him and yet he felt every syllable vibrating through his bones. You looked to the bartender who seemed to ignore you and your bottom lip was dragged between your teeth as they sunk into the soft flesh clearly defeated. You raised a hand out trying to get her attention once more but you couldn’t grab it.

“Hey,” he called out firmly, attention drifting to him as the bartender came over with a flirty smile. He looked down at her unamused as he motioned with his tipped head in your direction, “She needs something.” The bartender seemed almost disappointed when he directed her to you instead of asking for something himself. On another day, another night, he might’ve played along. He might’ve flirted a bit just because he knew it made women’s heart beat faster and yet he wasn’t doing that tonight. Instead he’s looking to you again as you met his gaze with a skeptical one.

“What?” The girl asked in a demanding tone that had you shrinking back with clear confusion at her hostility toward you when she’d just been smiling at the handsome man next to you. No, Y/n, you’re drinking, remember who he is and keep your distance. Jungkook glared at her as if equally offended by her tone of voice used against you. Couldn’t she see that you were hurt over something Jungkook barely understood due to your friend? Couldn’t she see how vulnerable you were at the moment. It made his skin crawl with a sudden anger he’d never felt before.

She seemed to roll her eyes at your hesitance before repeating your response, “Just a water?” You gave a simple nod and she was shoveling into the ice before bringing you your ice water. You thanked her and she left flashing one last look toward Jungkook but he didn’t even react. His face was cold, emotionless and unamused.

“Hey,” it was barely an audible sound that could’ve gone unnoticed if Jungkook hadn’t been painstakingly aware of your entire existence just inches away from him. All thoughts of his friends and the poor girl he’d pick to take home tonight completely out of his head. You pulled your hair behind your ear and he only caught a glimpse of the action from his peripheral. You finally spoke again and this time he allowed his eyes to fully follow you, “What do you want Jungkook?”

“Is that how you thank someone who just did you a favor? If I didn’t help you, who knows when you would’ve been helped,” he said almost in a flirting manner but he was still trying to keep it under wraps. You rolled your eyes in annoyance but Jungkook couldn’t find it in him to be upset over it. You looked at him again, “Nobody asked you to do any favors.”

“And yet I did,” he said with a taunting smile that only seemed to annoy you more. He bit his lip, his piercing moving with the action and he looked down at you, “So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why do you care?” You asked clearly exasperated. He let out a sigh, “Because I hate seeing pretty g—“

“I see you’re still insufferable to be around,” you said with a roll of your eyes, you did not want to deal with Jungkook at the moment. Jungkook smirked, “And yet you’re still here talking to me.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, one foot on the floor already as you began getting down from the stool. You pushed against the bar for support but before you could truly get away his hand was going to your waist, more specifically your midsection. He was smiling, “Oh come on. Sit with me for a bit. I haven’t seen you in a while and I’m just curious. How’s Soomin?”

You sighed. You’re not sure why you’re still talking to him but you weren’t making a move to leave, “Good question, when you find out feel free to let me know.” His brows furrowed in confusion, how could you not know how your own friend is doing? He licked his lips in thought, “Why wouldn’t you know? I thought you were supposed to be her bestest friend.”

“Yeah well I thought so too,” you told him honestly turning to look at him as you twirled your straw around in your cup. He looked back at you with an expression you couldn’t read. Of course you knew Jungkook and you knew what kind of person he was. When you saw him tonight you didn’t expect for him to actually come over and talk to you. It wasn’t like you were friends or even close enough to talk and yet here he was and here you were. His brows furrowed in confusion, “You don’t talk anymore?”

“Well you see, after you ghosted her for no reason, she started shutting us out,” you told him with slight attitude. You’re still friends but she’s definitely distanced herself from everyone. Even if you’re not close with Soomin anymore you remember how hurt she was when Jungkook just stopped talking to her. They only dated for six months but Soomin had been in love apparently. Jungkook was arrogant and honestly hard to be around but Soomin loved him. Then one day, he just stops talking to her. He doesn’t respond to her calls or texts. He doesn’t let her into his apartment, he doesn’t stop to talk to her when she stalks him at work. He was just done with her and never gave her a reason for it. Obviously at the time you were still friends with her so it was easy to hate Jungkook. Yet here he was talking to you when Soomin wouldn’t. He didn’t even bother defending himself for ghosting your friend. Frankly he didn’t care. He had reasons for it anyway.

“Alright, now tell me why you’re upset tonight,” he changed the subject with no regard to the previous topic, “And don’t tell me you aren’t because you clearly looked it when Yeonwoo was with you.” You rolled your eyes at him drinking the rest of your water. You weren’t standing anymore so there was no reason for his hand to still be on you to keep you put but you didn’t have the energy to argue with him over it. It’s not like he was a complete stranger but he was your ex best friend’s ex. It still felt weird. His hand rested on your lower back keeping you close to him.

He had been attracted to you since the jump if he was being honest. It was one of those ‘chose the wrong friend’ sort of moments but there was nothing he could do about it. He had already been dating Soomin so there was no way to make a move on you. So, instead he shoved you in the back of his mind but he always was too aware of you whenever everyone gathered together. Now, tonight it was like a new awakening for him. He hadn’t seen you in months and for good reason since he ghosted Soomin without a single care and it was no surprise all of Soomin’s friends hated him for it. What he didn’t expect was for him to run into you tonight and remember how he used to feel attracted to you but this time around it was about ten times stronger.

“Why should I tell you?” You asked and though usually he’d be turned off by a girl’s abrasiveness he found himself smiling. He’d never admit but the reason he dated Soomin was because of how easy it was to get her to stay with him. He could do whatever he wants and with a little gaslighting she’d be the one apologizing to him. He liked his partners like that. It’s just more proof that he’ll get what he wants with no consequences. He didn’t even stutter in thought before speaking, “Because I’m asking?” You sighed, “Fine. I was dumped. Happy?”

Yes. Yes he was if this was the same guy he remembered you going through your talking stage with just earlier this year when he was still dating Soomin. The first time he met him Jungkook already didn’t like him. He was too eager to please you and it just proved to Jungkook that the guy didn’t have a backbone. Jungkook just nodded in acknowledgement, “Did he tell you why?”

Yeah, what a hypocrite. As if he ever told Soomin why he ghosted her but this was different. This was you. You scoffed looking away from him, “Why do you wanna know? So you could take notes and figure out how to properly break up with someone?”

“Oh I know how to end things when I want to,” he said ignoring your sarcastic tone as his hand touched the hem of your skirt where your back dipped in a little where you spine didn’t meet the waist band. The small gap giving him perfect space to let his pinky rest inside. He was closer now and you knew it. You should’ve moved away, gone back to Yeonwoo and her man, Namjoon but you didn’t. You were tired of hearing Yeonwoo argue with you over your poor taste in men. Why you kept falling for losers? Who knows. What you do know is that Yeonwoo would kill you if she still found you talking with Jungkook. You’re supposed to share a mutual hatred for him even if you only spoke to Soomin on occasion. It was girl code.

“So are you gonna move your hand or am I gonna have to make you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out in a flirty tone. To be honest, you were aiming for threatening but the smile that fell on Jungkook’s face told you it was anything but. His thumb began to caress your back taunting you, “That depends. How do you plan on making me?”

“I don’t go for my friend’s exes,” you said suddenly, no need to beat around the bush when you can feel Jungkook’s intentions. He leaned toward you a little more, daring himself to see how far he could go before you pushed him away. You probably should just ditch him but you’ve always thought Jungkook was attractive and he was giving you attention, unwanted or not, you thrive on attention. His was face was close to yours now, practically tasting you on his tongue but he didn’t make a move just yet. Instead, he said, “Good thing you’re not friends anymore.”

“You’re not my type,” you lied leaning back a little, that same pretty smile was back on his face. His nose brushing against yours as a sign to how close the two of you were. You should not be doing this but you can’t help it. The broken person inside of you, always eager to give into a man, was starting to come out. He let his lips skim over yours but never pressing them together, “Really? Because I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to,” you said just above a whisper trying to turn your face away as a last effort to hold onto the small amount of self respect you have left. Don’t fall into the tricks of your friend’s ex. You know too much about their relationship to be this stupid. He wasn’t a terrible boyfriend but he wasn’t a good one either, clearly. “Kiss me,” he whispered in a husky voice unable to contain himself. He’s been thinking about your soft lips since the second he saw you tonight. It was like a sign from the universe. Just when he’d been living his life without a single thought about Soomin—the occasional thought about you—and just doing his own thing, you come back into his life. Practically served to him on a platter of red and blue. The music playing around you two blurred into the background along with everyone and you couldn’t help yourself anymore.

You were hesitant at first but with a simple, uncertain nod in agreement, he acted before he could stop himself. His hand cupped the side of your face gently and he did most of the moving, as tender as he could manage despite being lust-driven, he let his lips meet yours in the softest touch. You jumped like a startled lamb about to be eaten by a lion but after the short shock, your lips were meeting his efforts and kissing him back. You can’t believe you were kissing your old friend’s ex like it was the most normal thing in the world—especially after knowing how he treated her.

He physically crumbled into your touch, letting himself press even closer against you trapping you on his stool and against the bar counter. Your hand raised to touch his face, startled by the cold metal hitting against your lip but you didn’t move away. You let him take ownership of your mouth for the moment, a hand coming down to your waist in hunger before letting his tongue slide along your parted lips. Your tongue swiped along his and he audibly groaned into your touch and just as the hand gripping the fabric of your skirt was pulling you into him, someone was yanking you back.

“Ow!” You winced alarming him as he glared at the intruder in who just pulled on your arm forcefully. There Yeonwoo stood looking anything but pleased, “Fuck no, not on my watch.”

“Don’t pull her like that,” Jungkook cut in trying to reel in his anger from snapping at her as his gentle hand never pulled away from your face. She turned a fierce glare at him that he stared back with as she scoffed, “Fuck off Jungkook. We all know you’re a piece of shit. Y/n’s just drunk so she’s not thinking straight. What do you even want with her?”

“Am I supposed to care what you think?” Jungkook asked bitterly, “Why don’t you go worry about your boyfriend and get the fuck out? Y/n’s a big girl, you don’t need to speak for her.” You sighed, already fed up as they started a back-and-forth. You knew this was a bad idea and it was giving you a headache. Even worse, you don’t even regret it.

“Actually I do,” Yeonwoo argued though it wasn’t in your favor, “I’m not letting her make the same mistake with you as Soomin did—“

“Jesus Christ, it was just a kiss!” You stood suddenly making him pull back. You looked between them both, “And you’re both annoying the hell out of me so I’m going home.”

“I’ll drive you,” Jungkook rushed out but you raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t.” Yeonwoo gave him a smug look as you started walking away, neither one going after you knowing you were already annoyed. Jungkook raised his middle finger at her mouthing a quick ‘fuck you’ as he left in the other direction.

When the two of you are dating he’ll convince you to ditch her. She’s a bitch, controlling, and she’s always treated you like you were stupid. So did Soomin. You were always the one getting picked on because you fell in love to easily but he always thought that was the best thing about you. Even when he’d just observe you from his position as Soomin’s boyfriend, he knew you were a romantic. He considered himself one too but all the girls he’d been with would probably disagree. How’s he supposed to explain to them that it’s because they just weren’t worth expressing himself over. He didn’t love them, especially not Soomin, so he wouldn’t treat them like he did.

It’ll be different with you. He just knows it. The electrifying moment he saw you tonight and then the short but passionate kiss told him so.

“God, I still can't believe you'd kiss that dickhead. You’re lucky I stopped you before you made an even bigger mistake," your friend, Yeonwoo, said a few days after the night at the club. You were supposed to be shopping but instead you were just skipping through every hanger on the clothes rack without paying attention. This was the third time she's brought it up since then, "This is why you're always getting your heart broken. You fall for guys too easily and then what happens? You cry because you got dumped. You know Jungkook ain’t shit and yet you make out with him as if he didn’t just ghost Soomin out of the blue? God, how could you?”

"Yup, thanks for the reminder, really appreciate it," you said with a roll of your eyes. You didn't even try and deny it. You did. It wasn't your fault, okay? You've had a rough upbringing and your only coping mechanism is falling in love too easy seeking male validation because it's something you didn't have growing up. Why you fall for complete losers is a wonder to you too. You've gone through more relationships at the tender age of 22 then most people have in their life but it's really not your fault. You believe a guy too easily when they lovebomb you only to be complete pieces of shit. Not your proudest moments but what else is a romantic supposed to do? Of course you've been slutshamed time and time again for all your relationships but you don't know how to change your fate. Yeonwoo released a sigh when she noticed you were zoning out on her, “Soomin texted me last night. She wants to get drinks with us and Yoongi.”

“She didn’t text me,” you said with a shrug. You and Soomin had been close since the summer after your high school graduation. You met her through Yeonwoo and it was always obvious she was closer with her. It didn’t mean she didn’t care for you but you were always on the side of whatever friendship they had until Soomin distanced herself from Yeonwoo. You’re used to being second choice and even though all your time is spent with Yeonwoo, you know you’ll be ditched by your friends too. Especially if Yeonwoo tells her Jungkook kissed you.

What happened the other night was embarrassing but you didn't regret it. Whatever, it was just one kiss and though he’s currently texting you asking to meet up, you wouldn’t. You had enough respect to not do it again. He wasn’t a good guy to Soomin and that’s that they were dating. How’d he treat you when you’re nothing to him? You know she’s mad at you for doing that with Jungkook but you also know that’s not the only reason why. She's really just mad you didn't give her boyfriend's friend a chance because you were too distracted. You agreed to meet up with Taehyung again and actually be engaged in talking with hm but only because Yeonwoo begged you to. You looked down at your phone, it was the third time it rang and Yeonwoo was getting fed up, “Who’s calling you so damn much? I swear to God Y/n if it’s Jungkook then you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

“Right because I have control over who calls me? Plus, it’s not him,” you said making her eyes roll. She left your side to head into the fitting room with a pile of clothes on her arm and you told her you’d wait outside. With an annoyed groan you got you phone, “What do you want?”

“To see you,” Jungkook said simply as he headed to the parking lot of his campus. It was past sunset but he had a class that had been pushed back so he was just getting out. Now, more than ever, did he wish he went to the same University as you. Usually he liked dating girls who he didn’t have to run into often. Girls from different schools, different cities, different circle of friends. It just made it so much more easy when he left them because then he didn’t have to deal with their crying faces begging for him to take them back. He never did anyway, unless it was for an easy fuck.

“Who says I want to see you?” You asked slightly annoyed as you looked to the fitting room so Yeonwoo didn’t catch you on the phone with the exact person she suspected had been calling you, “Besides, how do you know I’m not busy?”

He found himself smiling even if you were being too difficult for his liking. He’s used to girls just giving into him. He doesn’t remember the last time he had to put effort into wanting to see someone, usually he’d send a quick text and his needs would be met. He bit his lip to stop his smile, “My answer to both your questions is, wishful thinking?”

You rolled your eyes though you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t smile but that just annoyed you even more, “Is that all you want to say? Cause I’m shopping right now with Yeonwoo.”

He couldn’t help but pout a little as he opened the door to his car, “Let me see you.”

“Jungkook I—“

"I've gotta go back to campus when we're done, do you work tonight?" Yeonwoo said suddenly as she swung the door to the dressing room making you jump in surprise nearly dripping your phone in the process. You quickly recovered turning your phone away no longer thinking about Jungkook who was still on the line. "No, but I've got a lot of assignments to do so I'll definitely need to stop for some coffee and go home." You looked down at your phone, hanging up quickly as the two of you went to go to the checkout line.

"Hey Y/n," Yeonwoo called out to you as the two of you left the store. You turned to wait for her, "I'm not trying to be a bitch, but I'm just tired of seeing you get hurt. I'm your best friend so I can't just sit back and watch you cry every time someone dumps you."

The two of you barely made it out before you got a text. To be honest, you had actually forgotten you had Jungkook’s number. It was from months ago when he was still dating Soomin. For a while Soomin didn’t have a phone since she’d lost it on a night out. Jungkook let her use his phone for about a week or so you saved his number and he saved yours. In reality, she asked Jungkook to help her get a new phone but he said no even though he had enough money in his bank account to pay for one in full. Even if she couldn’t afford one during that time, Jungkook still didn’t let her use his phone often unless it was to text you or Yeonwoo.

It’s strange to him actually. He’s only now realized how much he used to pay attention to you. He knows he’d keep you in the back of his mind but it was never this intense. He just thought you were attractive and that had been it—or so he thought. Maybe the night of the club when he first saw you after months, hadn’t been his awakening to wanting you. Maybe it had always been there and he just didn’t notice.

How could he not remember the way he used to stalk your social media around Soomin, zooming in on your face, checking your likes, all of it. How he used to ask her who she’d be hanging out with and he’d only ever say he’d join her if he knew you’d be there. Hell, he had completely forgotten the way he’d reread the texts you and Soomin shared the time she didn’t have a phone. He’d blame it on curiosity but really he would just read your texts with a slight smile acting like he’d been texting you instead. Even after breaking up with Soomin he found himself looking at your contact just wondering if he should take his chances and talk to you again. Now that he had an excuse to text you, since you kissed the other night, he went for it.

jeon jungkook: don’t go anywhere. we’ll get coffee together

jeon jungkook: where are you?

Fuck, it was so fucking stupid of you to actually want to see him. He wasn’t a good boyfriend to Soomin. They were always arguing about something. She was always crying and you had even heard the stuff he told her when they fought. Everything about him screamed red flag. He is a male Virgo for fuck’s sake. Yeonwoo was already judging you for what happened at the club because for some reason she took it personal. Soomin had ignored you both without a single care and yet you were still supposed to respect girl code? All because she was texting Yeonwoo available but not you? Like yeah, part of you felt guilty because she had been your close friend at one point and you missed hanging out with her. It’s not like you didn’t know she had dated him but fuck you can’t help it. You just got dumped two weeks ago and now someone new is giving you attention.

you: i don’t want to wait

you: I’m gonna ride the bus to __

Once the bus got to the stop the two of you swiped your cards and found your seats. Even after she stopped on campus you kept going till you were in your neighborhood. You got off at your stop and left to the coffee shop you've become a regular at. Thankfully, the place was practically empty only one person in front of you and it was a tall stranger dressed from head to toe in black. A huge contrast to your cream colored sweater and gray leggings. His voice was deep and familiar but you had known who it was before they spoke.

When he was done he moved to the side looking behind him. Jungkook smiled warmly, finally, he thought. He sped over to where you’d told him and since he knew the bus would do multiple stops and it’d give him time get here before you. And you actually smiled back at him. His heart melted. He hasn't been able to get the taste of you off his tongue. He wanted to do it again right here, right now. Possibly do even more, he doesn't care who sees. "Well surprise, surprise," he responded as he reached over you to pay for the drink. Your head tilted in amusement as you moved to stand next to him waiting for your drink, “Is it though?”

His was made quickly and they were calling his name to get it but he waited for you, "100% I definitely wasn’t still on the phone when you told Yeonwoo you were getting coffee. And I also didn’t ask for you to tell me where so I could come and see you.”

“Woah, don’t start exposing yourself,” You said teasingly. He matched your smirk, “What are you doing this weekend? I want to take you out.”

You smacked your lips feigning disappointment, “Sorry I’m busy. I’m meeting up with Yeonwoo, her boyfriend, and his friend on Saturday and I work Sunday.”

“What about Saturday night?” He asked even though he was more curious to know the guy Namjoon would be bringing. If it was the same one mentioned at the club he needed to know. You looked down at your phone, a new text from Yeonwoo, “Can’t. Apparently we’re getting drinks with Soomin and Yoongi.”

“Friday?” He was just getting more and more frustrated trying to find time that you could spend with him. Who was the guy and why was Soomin suddenly wanting to talk to you again? You shook your head in response, “I’ve gotta work.”

His jaw clenched. Why can’t you just make time for him instead of Soomin? That’s going to fuck up his chances with you. You looked to him waiting to see how he’d react but instead of talking about Soomin, he brought up something else.

"It's a shame Yeonwoo cut in," Jungkook said with an exaggerated sigh. Oh God, he was bringing up the kiss. You were hoping you could just see him again without having to think about the kiss and what it could mean that he’s bringing it up instead of a drunken accident. “Jungkook.”

He bit back a groan, it sounded so good coming from your lips he couldn't wait to have you screaming it. He'd treat you so damn good, better than he's treated anyone. He'll hurt whoever the fuck hurts you and he won't care who it happens to be. He’s never felt this intense for someone before. He’s had tons of girlfriends. Tons of girls before but he could never say that he honestly ever cared about them. Sure he played the concerned boyfriend if they’re upset but deep down he had just been so annoyed by their moods. Why he was so determined to date you and vows to be the perfect boyfriend for you is even more confusing but he just wants it so bad. And he needs to get what he wants.

Shit, you’re trying to say something to him, “I don’t know how I feel about the other night. It’s just weird you know? Can we not talk about it?”

His smile dropped instantly, “Why? You’re single, I’m single and it was just a kiss. There’s nothing to be weird about.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but your voice spoke just above a whisper clearly uncertain, “You know what I’m talking about.”

He sighed looking away, “I know what you’re talking about but that’s in the past. You didn’t care the other night when we kissed. All of a sudden, Soomin wants to talk to you again and now you won’t even give me a chance? Plus, who cares what Yeonwoo says.”

You shook your head, “It’s not just what she’s said it’s ab—“ “Look at me,” he said, your eyes seemed to soften and he took the chance at scooting his chair around the table to sit next to you, trapped you further into the corner against wall and window of the round table you were sitting at. You didn't shy away from him either and that excited him. He can't wait to shower you in riches and love. You'll never leave him, he'll be perfect for you just as you're perfect for him. Don't ask him how he knows you're meant to be together, he just does. You leaned into him a little as you looked up at him. He stared into your eyes softly to show you how serious he was, “I’m into you, alright?”

“I know you’re feeling guilty because of the fact that I dated your friend and I also know you think I’m a piece of shit just like Yeonwoo does,” he kept going, “But I’m telling you right now that I really want to see if anything happens between us. And I know you’re curious too so just give me a chance.”

You whined in frustration, “You’re so annoying.” You still leaned into him a little and he was leaning into your touch too.

"I’m being serious," he said, a hand going under your chin and as if already knowing what he wanted, your lips met his in another electrifying kiss. Fuck, you were the absolute worst. That’s what everyone would say when all your friends find out. But you still weren’t backing away from him. Part of you did want him just a little but you shouldn’t.

It was so fucking weird that he dated your friend and now for some reason you’re both feeling an instant attraction. It’s not like the two of you had been friends. You were his girlfriend’s friend who he’d see on occasion when forced to go with Soomin somewhere. You’d only talk when Soomin was around and that one rare time he gave you a ride home from her place where you talked about movies. Obviously when he disappeared on Soomin you thought he was the absolute worst and that’s how you felt until you stopped talking to Soomin as much. Then after that he didn’t really come to mind when you didn’t see her anymore. But the night of the club when you saw how intensely he was looking at you, you had instantly been intrigued.

You're not sure how it happened and it's times like this that you wondered if you were too stupid to know any better. But even with those thoughts in your head you still invited him into your house to touch your body.

"We should slow down," you sighed out as he kissed along your neck hungrily sitting next to you on your bed. He growled at that, hand still groping at your sides inching your sweater up enough for his hand to touch bare skin. He was practically crawling onto your lap trying to get closer than he already is. He sucked that sweet spit on your neck that had you biting back a moan as you held him by a hand on the back of his neck. He let his tongue flatten against it soothing any pain from his harsh sucking, "You’re right, but you’re just so pretty, I just want to devour you."

He kissed your lips shushing you and you happily met his efforts with need as he pushed you down onto your bed as if it was his own. Soon he will take you to his penthouse, lay you down on his king sized bed and give you all his love. By morning he'll make you breakfast, pull you into his hot tub and make love to you again. In the tub, against the window, on the floor, the counter, the wall, his car, his sink, everywhere. He'll fuck you everywhere his heart desires and he knows he'll never get tired of it. He doesn't care if this was the second time he's seen you in months. You're meant to be with him. He knows that now. The bad part is that he knows he’s slowly becoming obsessed and he doesn’t know how far he’ll take it since this is a new emotion. And he won’t let anyone get to your head and tell you this is wrong when it feels so right.

"You don't have a girlfriend, right?" You asked. You're too embarrassed to admit how many men you've slept with who had girlfriends you didn't even know about. And you wouldn’t at all be surprised if Jungkook had anyone at the moment. From the way he treated Soomin and how obsessed she was with him, you know he can have any girl he wanted. You’re proving his point and yet you didn’t do anything about it. He kissed your lips with a smile, you're just so cute to be asking him that even as you laid under him. How could he have a girlfriend that isn't you? He's only had quick fucks recently but he's got bigger plans than that for you. You're what he's been waiting for all his life. He kissed along your jaw between words, "Do you want to be my girlfriend?" Say yes, he thought.

"I don't know," you said honestly with a little gasp as he kissed down the column of your throat crawling down your body until he was kissing your exposed collarbone letting his hands inch up your sweater and fondled your breasts through all the fabric. You really wanted to be. As depressing as this might sound, you didn't know how to be single. Clearly that was noticeable by the way you were getting over an ex when you reconnected with Jungkook. You didn't know how to be independent. All you knew was the security being in a relationship brought you no matter how shitty it was. All you know is that you'd do anything for someone to love you and this man wants you even if he dated your friend. You're not even questioning it enough.

You're not sure when his head dipped under your sweater or when he yanked your bra down enough for your tits to spill from the top. You couldn't even see him as he attached his mouth to a breast. All you saw was a big lump under the fabric and the sensation of a warm, wet tongue running over your nipple immediately making it stiffen and your back arch. Jungkook wasn't shy with his touches, he was hungry. If he would’ve known he’d fall for you this hard when he had his mind set then he would’ve ditched Soomin sooner and took his chances with you way sooner. He wants you all to himself.

It's the greed talking. The spoiled rich kid in him that's making him like this but he doesn't care. He's going to have you. The tit that wasn't getting completely slobbered on in his mouth was being fondled by a rough hand. Squeezes around the plump flesh of your breast, fingers pinching your nipple making it harden enough for him to play with it. He was squeezing them together trying to force both in his help but he couldn't. He hadn't known he'd begun to rut against your bed. His cock growing so unbelievably hard and fast it was painful. His body never felt like this.

All the girls he'd fucked in the past had been just that. A quick fuck. He didn't seek out their pleasure. He didn't care about them. He put as much intimacy into that rough fuck as Patrick Bateman did fucking prostitutes. With girlfriends he acted nicer but when he wasn’t in the mood anymore, he was done.

"God, your body is so fucking slutty baby," he said in a low growl as he reappeared from under your sweater, hair tussled and lips swollen red and out of breath. His hands didn't stop their groping on your breasts even as he looked you in the eyes. You whined at that. The only times you've been called slutty is when insults have been thrown at your face. He was yanking your sweater off you, "I love it. I want you to be the nastiest fucking slut for me and only me. Can you do that?" He could hear the roughness in his voice and that’s no what he wanted. He wanted to cherish you but he wanted you so damn bad he couldn’t help it.

Suddenly you felt different. He didn't mean it in a bad way? He wasn't trying to bring you down? He wasn't asking about your body count or your past? He wasn't looking at you in disgust when your body reacted so quickly to a man's touch? You finally nodded after he was tearing into the middle of your bra between cups. You didn't realize how easy it was for him to split the material and clearly he didn't have time to unclip it from the back as he was tearing it off you like an animal. You gasped once more at the roughness and he smirked, "You like that bunny? I wanna make love to you all fucking night, you hear me? I want you screaming my name. I want you clawing at my back begging for more and I promise you will be begging. If you need me to slow down, say yellow but I'm not stopping. You're mine."

Fuck, it sounded so good coming from him but it still felt like it shouldn’t. He was such an ass to everyone and you know this and yet you don’t care. You don’t care how he left Soomin. You don’t care about how he treated her at the time. It was awful. You felt awful but your body was a horny mess all the time and you know it. Your past boyfriends never cared for pleasuring you. They used your body however they wanted for a quick fuck and whenever they were done they didn't even want you touching them.

Sure, Jungkook is using your body but he's actually providing pleasure with his rough touches. He's hungry for you and you could feel it through every kiss he left down your body. Of course you couldn't see the line of red bruises forming in your abdomen as he quietly marked your body in love bites making sure to have them on both breasts too and he wasn't stopping until he got to your pussy. He wanted you completely drowned in his affection and he had no problem marking you up cause of it. He was still fully dressed when he started tugging on your leggings and panties. You kicked your legs with a whine that had him clicking his tongue with a shake of his head. He reached for the back of his t-shirt pulling it over his head and discarding it on the floor. His hair was a messy black mop fanning over his face but he just waved it away. His hands slid against your legs.

They started at your your shins sliding up to your knees where he parted your legs with a firm grip. His nails dug into your thighs as they traveled toward your inner thigh making you spread them even more. His eyes traveled from your covered core up the line of love bites forming in your stomach and between your breasts to your face. Self-consciousness rose inside you as he smiled down at you leaning forward to capture your lips with his. Your legs threatened to squeeze shut but as soon as they tried, his muscular form stopped you from doing so. His hands gripped them roughly, his nails digging into the inside of your thighs just near your pubic bone. You whined into his mouth and it made him pull back with a groan.

"You're so gorgeous,"  he said breathlessly as he pulled away to take his jeans and briefs off. He struggled with the thick denim for a moment before laughing lightly dipping back between your legs to kiss you once more. His body pressed against yours as his tongue licked along yours dragging his mouth back so only his tongue would touch yours. He looked down at the indecent act, his saliva mixing with yours before taking your mouth with his again letting his eyes fall shut. Your arms wrapped around his neck dragging his mouth with yours and his body pressed you into the bed so deeply that you felt ever ridge of muscle on him. Finally, his free cock was pressing against your cunt, “I’ve always thought that, you know?”

"Ju—" you couldn't speak with his hungry kisses, thick and heavy cock sliding between your pussy. Your slick coating his angry member making the slide all that more delicious. He let you squish him by the neck against your lips, he felt all your desire and it made his heart race. Your hips were becoming restless and he knew you were just so desperate for him that he had to do more. He pulled away with a groan sinking down until he was hoisting your legs up and around his neck. Without another thought, he was yanking you toward his face.

"Tell me," his voice was demanding, but desperate licking his lips as he stared down at your core. You'r hands came around to hide but he was quick to send you a glare strong enough to stop you in your tracks, "Tell me, do you want to be mine baby?" He looked you in the eyes as he gave a tentative lick along your cunt only as a tease to make you gasp, “Fuck just say yes.”

He knows he’s asking for too much right now but he can’t wait. One could say he’s known you for a while even if it was in completely different circumstances so technically there’s no reason you two can’t move quickly.

"Yes" you said with a roll of your hips in the hopes that his mouth would slide up and lick your clitoris. You were feeling such pleasure just from his hands. You were too used to whist being fucked and left to fend for your own pleasures that you weren't used to all this attention on your body. As if answering your prayers, his nose rut against your clit, "You want me to touch you? Make you feel good?"

You nodded with a squeeze of your eyes that had him smiling, another tentative lick lime before. "You mean...like this?" he said to which you shook your head no, he kissed your pussy lips like he kissed your mouth. "So you want to be with me?”

"Yes," you mumbled as he parted your pussy for a long, languid lick. "Of course you do" he bumped into your clitoris once more and you clinged to his shoulders. "Because I like you so much more than everyone else. And I’ll treat you so good, so much better than any other guy. You know that, right?”

"Jungkook," you sighed, "Do you mean it?" You shouldn't believe it, it was only your second time meaning him and yet he's telling you everything you want to hear. And you know what he’s like, you’re just so naive when it comes to relationship ships and he came at the right time.

His head was pressed between your legs, his tongue flattened against your slit as he licked from, your already dripping entrance, to your clit. Even like that he was nodding his head moving with the buck of your hips not giving you any time to rest. He stopped to circle the bundle of nerves before sucking it between his lips swirling it around with his tongue. "Fuck Jungkook !" You let out a moan, that had his eyes darkening in hunger.

He groaned against you and your hips bucked thrust against his face. You panted, a hand down on your hair, "I'm gonn—gonna—"

His hold on you tightened and he seemed to push himself deeper into you. He snuck his hand up next to his mouth that attacked your clit. Without warning, he plunged two wet fingers into your tight cunt. He fingered you at a rapid pace, the combination of his tongue on your clit, his fingers inside you. You let out a loud and long moan, your back arching off the wall, your legs shaking around him as you began to release. He was quick to remove his fingers and forcing your hips down on the bed as he lapped up every last bit of you with his tongue.

"Tastes so sweet, just like I know you would," he moaned out licking the corners of his mouth. He was wrapping a hand around his cock, fisting his dick as he lined it with your entrance, "You'll let me fuck you like this, right? Are you on the pill?”

"Haven't I made you feel good?" He asked licking his lips as he let his leaking tip gather your slick puddles at your entrance. You shook your head, "Yes bu—"

"Don't you trust me?" He asked letting his tip press into your cunt, "Haven't I already treated you so much better than all the others? Don't I deserve to feel your wet pussy all on my cock? Feel it baby, feel how much I love you. Won't you let me have you like this?"

"Mm," you nodded but he needed more, he grinded against your pussy knowing he almost had you, "Yes, please fuck me raw." He moaned into your mouth, sinking in with one shaky breath catching you both by surprise. His arms came around to the back of your knees forcing your legs up to your chest so he could reach deeper. It made you both audibly moan into each other's mouths. His back arched creating a curve letting his hips pound into your pussy.  

Your hands clawed at his back and it made his eyes roll with the burn of each scratch. His elbows dug into the pillows around your head trapping you under him raising his hips back only to pound his thick cock into you feverishly. He looked down at your pretty face watching the way in controrted in pleasure and he was breathing heavily, "Doesn't it feel god like this honey? A thick cock stretching your tight little pussy? Making you feel better than anyone else has? Am I doing it? Tell me."

"Yes baby," you moaned and he swears his heart exploded in his chest at the name, "Do you want me?"

"So fucking much," he grunted rocking his hips into yours roughly. His back muscles tensing with each powerful thrust, "Nobody else will ever treat you better than me. We were meant to be together."

"Bu—" you were so close to your second orgasm and his words were only inching you closer. He knew this too. You clawed at his back in one final effort to hold onto your climax but it did nothing. Your walls broke within you, release escaping around his cock as he held you roughly while riding out your high. He growled into your neck as you squeezed around his member deliciously with each twitch of your cunt. He dragged his cock out, biting into your shoulder lightly as he came with a loud grunt, spurts of creamy white liquid painting your thighs.

"One more," he said panting, sweat covering every of his skin as he swallowed dryly. He didn't give you time to argue already rolling onto his side dragging your hips over his. His voice was raspy and dry, too low. You let out a small whine in acknowledgement as you nodded your head lining him up with your entrance. You'd do anything if he loved you despite your body being exhausted. You lifted yourself so Jungkook can enter when he's ready. He strokes his cock a few times getting more turned on with how fucked out your body looked for him. He looks down so he can position his cock right below your entrance before letting you sink back onto his hard dick. His mouth draws open in a silent moan, breathy gasps as his eyes rolled. He's in love with you.

Fuck he loves you. This is everything he'd been waiting for all his life. Yes, he knows how crazy it sounds but it just makes sense. There’s a reason he saw you again after months he just didn’t realize it until you were looking into his eyes under those blue and red lights. You were the one he'd been blindly following and that’s why he put up with Soomin for six months when he hated being with her. Look what he could’ve been enjoying.

You began to fuck yourself slowly barely able to raise your hips. You were completely spent. Jungkook had already dragged two orgasms out of your body and you're not sure how much more you can handle but you'll never tell him. You won't disappoint him because then he'd leave you like everyone else, right? He said it himself nobody will treat you like he does so you can't lose him. So instead, you let your body try and feel good again.

"Fuck, it feels so good," you moaned out honestly, when his hand groped your ass digging his nails in with small grunts every time your thighs smacked his. You needed more intimacy. You didn't just want to feel use and so you leaned down. He met your efforts kissing you passionately as your hips continued bouncing on his member, letting him drink in your moans. Both hands on your ass night, helping you ride him as his neck began to hurt from reaching up to kiss you. His hips lifted off the bed as his feet dug into the mattress and he breached further into your cunt. On birth control or not, he knows what the two of you are doing is dangerous and not something two college kids were ready for.

"Oh my god," Your hands latched onto Jungkook's  shoulders sitting back again with the overwhelming pleasure making you squirm. He forced your ass to grind on him. He didn't make you bounce on his cock. He pulled you to the hilt and let your wet cunt make a mess on his naked body. Your thighs had been hitting against his hips so much that they were sore from where they bulged out from his pretty frame.

"I can—can't, Jun—I," you moaned, hips speeding up already feeling a third orgasm. Jungkook drills his cock into you, fully allowing himself to sit up cradling you on his lap crossing his legs to hold you better. Jungkook shushed you pressing his face into your hair, letting you rut on his dick, your legs wrapping around him locking him in place, "Shh, you can. One more bunny, you can do that for me, right? Please? I love you, do this for me."

"Cum for me," he whispered over and over into your ear until finally your legs twitched in one final moan of his name as you came. Unlike last time, he couldn't wait for you to calm down before chasing his own release. He lifted you up enough to tug his cock out before pointing at your ass. His eyes on yours as he climaxed.

It took you both a moment, Jungkook's head rested on your chest catching his breath. He motioned for you to get off him and onto the disheveled bed and immediately fell down right next to you. He took your hand in his breathlessly pressing it to his lips so he could kiss your knuckle. He looked at your tired face, "Let's get you cleaned up before you go to sleep."

You didn't say anything as he moved to sit up still out of breath as he moved around to your side of the bed. You stuck your arms up and he gladly leaned down to take you in his hold. Naked and yet not aroused, it was oddly domestic. That's what Jungkook was going for. He's showing you how much he loved you. He's proving how little everyone else has loved you by just being a gentleman taking care of his girlfriend after a rough fuck. You expected him to leave, he knows you did but he'd never.

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a/n, sooo I decided to make this a series bc when I saw my word count was 14k and I still wasn’t done with the plot I figured to just make it a series. I don’t usually do series cause I get bored easily but rn it’s just on my mind so I need to write it lol

also, thoughts on new cover idea, I edited the pic to match my blog theme cause it’s originally yellow and blue 😭 anything for the aesthetic 💅