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#so i have a few original stories on wattpad
troubadour-malin · 2 years
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vent in the tags!
#so i have a few original stories on wattpad#one dates back to 2019#it's the first piece of writing that I've ever completed and while it obviously has its flaws i'm very fond and proud of it#it gets a lot of reads and someone started reading it and leaving comments this week#and i'm always grateful for readers and comments but like#at first the person seemed to enjoy it#and then they started to complain about the length of the chapters#and fair enough I get that 100 words is pretty much very short for a chapter#this is a short story and I made it to feel like 'fragments' of thoughts and story#and honestly the length of the chapters is one of the things that got me to complete it eventually#but alright. This reader doesn't like that it's so short. I'm not upset about that it's a perfectly valid point to make.#and ok even if i didn't ask for it i guess that counts as constructive criticism so i get where they were coming from#but then they kept on commenting about how it was 'ruining' the story and how 'unpleasant' it was#and that what is bugging me right now because like... i put my work out on the internet for free#and while you have every right not to like it#it's hurtful to read that what you poured your soul into is 'unpleasant' to read..... i get that not everybody is gonna like what i do but#i just can't understand why they didn't just... stop reading instead of pushing and commenting some more about the same thing.#I know i'm upset over a really small thing and ultimately as long as I'm happy with my own work it's all that matters#obviously i'm no professional writer and criticism could help me get better but I find this kind of 'criticism' especially unhelpful#I wrote this back when I was sixteen and it's for free on wattpad so obviously it's not gonna be perfect or even good#I made this for myself first and then decided to share it with other people so why do they act like i'm responsible for 'ruining' the story#HOW COULD I POSSIBLY RUIN A STORY THAT I WROTE MYSELF what the hell#I don't even know what I'm trying to say actually#I'm just upset about this and how rude some people on the internet can get without even realizing#anyways if you read all this i hope you're having an amazing week#so' speaks
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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year
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NIGHT CRAWLERS - JJK
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title credit: night crawlers - kids in glass houses
pairing: drugrunner!jungkook x sugarbaby!reader, college au
synopsis:
jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?
warnings: jungkook and o/c are polar opposites, but y’know what they say, opposites attract and all that jazz, jk is a college student but also a drug runner, mentions of gang dynamics and hierarchy, oc is a sugar baby, mentions of consensual but uncomfortable sexual encounters as a result of this (proceed with caution), drugs, violence, blood, motorbikes, hurt/comfort, all the good stuff, smut – fingering, tittie sucking (wow pretend to be shocked!), unprotected sex, jk has the hugest cawk in the whole entire world, jk is a lil aggressive but in a sexy way, he accidentally says something mean during sex (not sexy mean, actually mean (he makes up for it tho!)), jk on top, oc on top, mentions of his pubes (yummy), tummy pressing, kissy kissy kissy koo, creampie, post-coitus nap, they’re literally in love idk what to tell you, ambiguous ending!!
wordcount: 26K
note from holly: originally published to wattpad in 2021 and also briefly uploaded to tumblr, too. It’s just hit 100k reads over on wattpad so I thought I’d put it here too!! There are two additional chapters on wattpad, connecting the story another fic of mine and also showing us jk + oc four years on from the events of NC!! If you’re interested, you can find it here (x).
i write in british english!! both in spelling and dialect!!
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
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IT'S BEEN SAID that with great notoriety, comes great responsibility to uphold the expectations of those who presume the worst about you.
Okay, so that's a lie. No one's ever said that - but Jeon Jungkook has never been one for sticking to traditions, and so he likes to live his life as if that's his motto.
That, and 'rather be dead than cool.'
Which is ironic, because it's only the heteropatriarchal bores - the ones from upper-class families, who want a white picket fence and 2.4 kids - that actually think he's lame.
And he doesn't particularly give a shit about their opinions.
Everyone else thinks he's actually pretty fuckin' cool.
Black nails, black cargo pants, black hair that waves loosely over his sharp features. An air of command as he walks, a swagger in his step that lingers in stranger's heads like the silage of his aftershave.
Yeah, Jungkook is cool, and he fucking knows it.
A rucksack is perpetually slung over his shoulder, the top concaved slightly to indicate there's very little in there, not much more than a tatty notepad and a few loose pens - or so you assume.
You've never actually spoken to him. Why would you?
Daddy's little princess, glossy lips, manicured nails. The kind of girl who gives him a second look, but only to sneer. He doesn't think of you often, but when he does, it's never nice.
Jungkook doesn't have time for you, and you don't have time for him. Your paths rarely cross.
At least they barely crossed. Past tense. 
Now that you're taking a few of the same classes as him, he sees you a lot more than he likes. Hair always up in that stupid fucking ponytail that he can't see past, perpetually on your phone. Attention seeking little bitch.
He'd ranted a little to Jimin about it, told him that you really must have been a dumb bitch to swap from an economics major to a film studies major with only a single semester left.
Jimin hadn't said much in return. Unlike Jungkook and his insatiable hate-boner for you, Jimin really doesn't give a shit about you. Barely knows your name, let alone the fact that you studied economics before switching over. Was kind of curious as to how Jungkook knew that. Not enough to bother with asking, though.
Jungkook thinks it's normal to scope out the competition. A little Facebook look-up, Naver search, Instagram scroll. Surely it's rational to do that? Check out their LinkedIn, cross-reference their Twitter history to see what they've said about the course.
It absolutely isn't normal, but then again, nor is Jungkook.
He's exactly as he appears to be; the rogue look isn't a front.
But beneath the exterior, there are a few more traditions he's subverting. 
He's the first in his family to attend college, and he needs to ace this class to keep his scholarship.
It's all just projection, the way he despises you.
You've got everything he wants. A well-to-do family, money, prosperity, financial security. He's never known that. And while he shits on you for having parents that have provided for you, all he wants in life is to be able to do the same for his own children one day.
"I've matched you all with students of a similar grade level, so no one is at an unfair advantage," your professor calls out, tearing Jungkook from his thoughts. "Not a single one of you will experience the city in the same way. From shortcuts to your favourite coffee spots, your lives here will have been different to those of your peers."
Jungkook smirks, leaning back on his chair. He knows this city better than most; its dark corners, where the monsters lurk... how to hide and where to run.
Again, the rogue look isn't a front.
But he also knows how to work a camera better than anyone in that room, how to time his shots, how to frame them, too. Top of the class, though modestly quiet about it (he's got a reputation to uphold, after all), he's curious to see who would be considered an even match for him.
"That being said, your experiences are also shared with those around you. For this assignment, with your partner, I want you to create a unique piece of film that captures what the city means to you. Think outside the box. Create something that excites, that invokes. You've got eight weeks. The partner list is on the noticeboard at the back of the hall. Dismissed."
Footsteps echo around the lecture hall as everyone trundles out of the room. You wait back, having already seen the list before you entered the class.
Instead, you pull out a pen - one of the ones that Jungkook hates, with a ridiculous fluffy pink pom-pom on top - and jot down your number. You aren't aware of his insatiable hatred, and either way, you don't really care.
He ignores you as you approach his desk, eyes only drifting upwards when you slide the torn-out piece of paper towards him.
"Mhmm?"
He's rude, you notice. Brows raised, expression flat, he's fed up with you before you've even said a word. Kinda hot, admittedly, but rude.
"We're partners," you say with an ambivalent shrug. Jungkook's jaw seems to tense, head tilting as he breathes out a short smirk.
Partners?
"You haven't even gone out to check the board."
"So what?" You scoff a little. He doesn't like your tone. The feeling is mutual. "I just made it up?"
It's his turn to shrug, now. "Dunno. You tell me."
His hair waves around his features, and you wonder how long it takes him to make it look so natural. The girls around campus swoon over his hair, like he's some kind of God. Other boys try to emulate it, but they can never quite pull it off like he does.
Another thing that all the girls giggle about are his doe-like eyes, but they're hard, now. Narrow, almost. Less of a doe, more like a dragon. Maybe if you get his nostrils flaring, he'll breathe fire, too.
Yeah, he's hot, you want to laugh to yourself, but not that hot.
"I checked before I came in. Didn't take a genius to work out what it was for."
He takes a moment before he nods. "Right. Well, you should probably know that I work better alone. Just let me handle the assignment, a'right? You can put your name on it, whatever, I don't care. Just let me handle it."
A control freak, you note. Nice.
You didn't transfer majors in your last semester, and face all the hardships that came with such a decision, just to sit back and let someone else do the hard work for you.
"With all due respect, it's a joint assignment. I'm not putting my name on work I didn't actually do."
A stickler for the rules, he assesses. Fucking fastastic.
"Look," he sighs, adjusting his body so that he's practically leaning halfway over his desk. As much as it sounds like he doesn't want to be a part of this conversation, his body language is oddly engaged. "I need to ace this class. You've been here, what? All of three minutes? Film what you wanna film, send it over to me for editing."
"I'm very much capable of editing-"
"And if you could do me a favour and keep the nail salon footage to a minimum, that would be much appreciated. Everyone's seen that shit. It's not interesting. Gangnam underground shopping centre B-roll, too."
It's a thinly veiled insult. Assumptions he's making about you based on the clothes you wear and the company you keep. He doesn't explicitly say it, but you know what he means: you're not interesting.
Jungkook doesn't mean to be an asshole. Not really. He's just got a lot riding on this course, and doesn't want to risk it all for the sake of keeping the peace with someone he doesn't particularly like in the first place.
"Like our Professor said, we all experience the city differently," you plaster a smile on your face, the plastic kind that Jungkook hates. "You might just be surprised at what I can offer."
Private tennis clubs and shopping sprees worth more than a second-hand car? Yeah, no. He'll pass, thanks.
"Whatever," he reclines back, giving your number the once over before tearing a strip of empty paper from the bottom of the note. His hand moves quickly, scrawling his own number onto it. He doesn't hand it to you, but instead tosses it down onto the desk as he stands. "As I said, I work best alone. Don't bombard me with messages about the project. I'll have it under control."
He vacates his desk with an air of arrogance that you don't think he's yet earnt. Sure, he's hot, and from what you've seen of his work, he's pretty talented, too. But no one likes working with assholes, and the whole point of being at college was to make yourself a desirable candidate for jobs.
Or at least that's what your parents had always said.
When they were still talking to you, that was.
Before they decided that you're a disgrace to the family name, all for the simple desire of not wanting to spend your life slaving over finances and spreadsheets.
Like inheritance and a slightly crooked nose (straightened out for your high school graduation gift), econ majors ran in your family - and just like you'd cut off your parents' dream of watching you become an economist, they'd cut you off. Full stop.
So as far as you were concerned, Jungkook could take his arrogant whining about your financial situation, and the hobbies you might have enjoyed as a result of your upbringing, and shove it up his ass.
You really wish he would. Shove it up his ass, that is. Might relieve him of the pent up tension he seems to have going on.
Swiping up his number, you tuck it into your back pocket, ruing the day you'll actually have to text it.
It comes as a surprise to both of you when, a week later, Jungkook is the first to type a message into your fledgeling chat window.
I'm filming tonight. Could use a Grip, if you're free. Dongdaemun Design Plaza, 7pm.
You wonder how much pride he must have had to swallow in order to send you that. 
On occasion, during the past week, you've caught him looking at you in that slightly menacing way he always likes to do.
Part of you thinks he's unaware that he's doing it, just zoning out in your direction, but then you see him shake sense into himself - quite literally, a bunny with an itch behind its ear kind of shake - before he averts his gaze. 
He does a similar shake of his head when your response pings through to his phone.
Can't do Tuesdays or Thursdays. Sorry. Maybe another time.
He doesn't reply.
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REJECTION HAS NEVER been something Jungkook has taken well. It's why he works so hard, fearful of being told that he isn't good enough.
He'd only sent that text because he genuinely did need a Grip.
Well, no. 
That's not quite right. 
He needed a muse; a subject of his shots, a pair of eyes to catch the confetti of night market lights in. Someone's hand to film as they exchanged money with a hotteok stand server, another human to get lost and found all within the same shot.
But that felt awkward to ask, especially after his insistence that he could do it all alone, so he'd settled for pretending he'd needed a grip. Just someone to hold his gear while he took tricky shots. That's all.
Given your rejection, he was pleased with his choice.
"Familiar," Yoongi nods over lunch the next day, following Jungkook's gaze. "Yeah, I've definitely seen her around. Dunno where, though."
"Campus, maybe?" Jimin rolls his eyes, confused at the fixation Jungkook seems to have on you.
Yoongi shakes his head. "Nah... She looks like-" he glances over to Jungkook conscious of Jimin's listening ears.
"Like?"
"Just like a girl I see occasionally," Yoongi pauses again, making sure Jungkook's focus on him. "At work."
Jimin laughs. "So yeah, on campus. You work in the campus cafe, Yoongs."
It was the only legitimate place that would hire him. Dumb choices as a kid - and a questionable nickname that's now etched into his knuckles - prevents most places from seeing him as a viable candidate.
Yoongi laughs along with Jimin, but Jungkook knows Yoongi isn't talking about the once a week shift that he picked up as a form of extra credit.
Jungkook knows, because on paper, he doesn't have a job either.
On paper, he manages to survive on his scholarship bursary, The Holangi Honour, awarded to gifted students from underprivileged backgrounds.
On paper, Jungkook is the Korean dream of hard work and perseverance.
His reality isn't so pristine, but it never has been. He comes from a long line of high school dropouts with dubious morals and criminally reckless career choices. It was naive to have thought attending university would help him escape it.
Scholarship funds dried up pretty quickly, rent and t-money cards eating away at it, until Jungkook had no choice but to revisit old haunts.
Yoongi had told Jungkook that he didn't need to worry, that he could help him out if he needed money, but Jungkook was no leech, much to his older friend's despair. He didn't want the kid getting into the same trouble that he was in.
One meeting with Yoongi's old school friend, Hoseok and Jungkook was in the rat race again, delivering people's come ups for when the sun went down. 
He'd always been good at running. Track, field, red lights, out of luck. Drugs, now, too.
Jungkook had managed a good year and a half on the straight and narrow. For that, he was proud. And sad.
But he's also determined. 
Top grades mean top jobs in the future, which means never having to traipse around Daerim at ass o'clock in the morning.
He hates this part of town, but it's where business is currently booming.
Hobi texts him a drop-off list each morning, ensuring his nights are almost exclusively spent in Daerim.
This is how Jungkook sees the city: grotty back allies, groups of men huddled around a pack of cards and dice on the floor, cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, phlegm spat onto the foor. He sees the women of the night in the early hours of the morning, and the sadness in the smiles they give to the men who approach them on street corners.
There's only one club of any worthwhile note in the area, and between jobs, Jungkook likes to sit up on the fire exit that rests above the back entrance.
It's where Hobi works, assisting some other reprobate that Jungkook doesn't care to learn the name of. Nasty piece of work, or so he's heard. The son of some powerful motherfucker that Jungkook knows to stay away from. He isn't interested in joining any stupid fucking gang. He just wants to get his money, get through university, and forget about this place.
That's the big dream at least.
His current wish, which feels much more immediate, is to outrun the fucker who has been on his tail for the past half a mile. Jungkook's pretty fast on his feet, and he gives a mean left-hook, but the guy chasing him has a pocket knife and that doesn't really feel like a fair fight.
It's his fault, and he knows it.
As per usual, Hobi had texted Jungkook his drop off list. Six of them, all in Daerim. He had no business being down by Jungang Market, especially not on a Thursday evening.
He couldn't even explain why he was; he was just curious about what life could be like if he ended up flunking out of college. He wanted to see where the monsters liked to lurk, or if they hid in the shadows like boogeymen.
But reprobate recognises reprobate, and drug runner recognises drug runner.
So now Jungkook really is running, out of territory that he shouldn't have infringed upon.
He's not out of breath yet, but he is conscious that his heartbeat feels like it's in his throat. A few streets over, his motorbike is parked behind an industrial-sized trash can, and he prays that no thieving cunt has tried to make a get away with it. They wouldn't have managed it - it's his prized possession and he never leaves it unprotected.
When he spots it a few minutes later, he laughs, relieved. "You beauty," he praises the engine, pulling his key from the pocket of his leather jacket.
The fucker chasing him is nowhere to be seen, probably nursing a stitch or panting down a different back alley. Jungkook doesn't want to risk it, eyes darting all over the place as he unbuckles the chain on his bike wheel with muscle memory alone. The metal clangs through the iron bars that protect the banjihas down the alley from break-ins. He always feels a little bit of guilt for chaining his bike up to the only source of natural light for the half-basement dwellings, but it's quarter past two in the morning. Not exactly sunshine hours.
And yet his eye is drawn to the light pouring down from a street lamp at the entrance of the narrow lane.
Usually, you ignore the noises you hear on your walk home - but, as strange as it sounded for Jungkook's voice to issue a compliment, you're almost positive that it is his voice.
Dark hair, dark eyes, he doesn't recognise you at first. You're wearing black, and your hair is down, but your lips still have that stupid fucking pink lipstick on, the one he'd seen you blot away onto a tissue in the middle of a lecture a few days prior.
His eyes linger, the lights flickering in his glossy dark irises as if there are fireworks inside that pretty little skull of his. For a moment, he thinks you must have been filming for the assignment. 
The lack of a camera proves otherwise.
"Get on the bike," he yells over to you, tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket, pulling it down. Cognitive thoughts aren't something Jungkook's really working with, the adrenaline speaking for him.
That, and the fact that he's acutely aware of what men like the motherfucker who was chasing him down did to girls like you. Might not like you, but he doesn't want that on his conscience.
Plus, he needs your signature on the coursework documents, too. You're no use to him if you end up chopped into little squares and scattered in the river.
"Damnit, just get on the fucking bike!" He continues, noticing that you haven't moved a muscle. His jacket is off now, held out for you to take. He's impatient, eyes darting down the alleyway, as if he's scared of the rain that's pouring down around you. "Look, I ain't asking again. Just get on the bike, or I'll fuckin' leave you here. Some nasty fuckers about tonight."
And while you may not trust Jungkook, you don't trust the alleyways of downtown Seoul even more. You've seen the horrors. You know the dangers. Your mother didn’t raise a fool.
She also didn't raise you to bow to the commands of assholes like him either.
You ignore his jacket, hiking up your skirt, revealing far more of your thigh than most get to see. He doesn't make a comment, but you know he sees a flash of your underwear as you do so. 
For once, sex seems to be the last thing on his mind.
Rain pools in the gutter by the drainpipes, trickling down, collecting in the ducts. A puddle sits on top, a tell-tale sign that the street is going to flood soon, but Jungkook also doesn't give a shit about that. Not right now - but he does make a mental note to check that the drains are unblocked by his place when he gets home.
He's a fellow basement dweller, dependent on the cheap rent. A banjiha boy with big dreams of getting out.
You hoist your leg over, ignoring the droplets of water on the leather seat, as your hand wraps around his waist. The front of his white shirt is damp from the rain, elevating the scent of his laundry detergent. You don't hate it. Quite like it, actually.
"Wet conditions," he rasps, voice still hurrying out of his mouth. "So take the jacket. If I slide, the tarmac will rip your skin off." He turns, wrapping the jacket around your shoulders. "I'm not your father. Dress yourself."
"I'd be a bit concerned if my father was trying to dress me at the ripe old age of 21," you bite back, as if the fabric of his jacket doesn't feel like it's melting into your skin on account of how bloody warm he is. You push your arms through the material, shaking it ever so slightly as Jungkook begins to rev the engine.
"Thanks would have sufficed," he bites back a scoff, not wanting to waste time arguing. "Try not to fall off, a'right?" He gruffs. 
Some would have considered his concern endearing. You know it's just because he doesn't want to spend his evening scraping your flesh off the sidewalk. Not because he gives a single flying fuck about you. 
"Hold on."
He doesn't wait for longer than a second, just enough time for you to wrap your arms around his waist, before he pulls down on the accelerator. His exhaust chortles, spitting out petrol as he goes, water from the ground splashing up against your bare leg. You can feel goosebumps forming, and yet your arms are completely warm.
Of course they are. Jungkook's chest is a fucking furnace, heart pumping blood through him faster than the speed of light. Forward, forward, forward, he pushes his bike on, away from the downtown area he found you in, and away from the demons who were hunting him.
The vibration of the bike is a welcome disguise. Beneath the motor's veil, you're shaking. Partly terrified, partly the victim of an adrenaline surge. 
Hardly a surprise. You've never been on a bike like his before.
There weren't many men on motorbikes around your neighbourhood as a child, only Old Jinyeon, who had a Harley that he only rode on the weekends, or when his wife was away at that spa retreat that everyone knew was really code for 'rehab'. Prescription medication was her poison, mostly. There were whispers that alcohol was a bit of a problem, too. 
It was a shame, really. She was a nice lady - she'd just married into a lifestyle that didn't suit hers.
Old Jinyeon's father had also been called Old Jinyeon, and his father before that, regardless of their age. The name wasn't the only thing inherited, but a fortune too. Old by name, old by money. 
He'd met his wife at a gentleman's bar; gambled all of his chips away just so that he could keep talking to her as she worked.
But the good is rarely easy, and the easy never good. Women like her weren't supposed to be with men like him.
And girls like you aren't supposed to be on the back of boys like Jungkook's motorcycle.
But here you are, hurtling through the city at a speed you're pretty sure isn't legal, clinging onto him for dear life. Your eyes are shut, streaming with tears from the wind, mascara blotting onto his back.
"Left turn," he calls over his shoulder to brace you. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, stomach losing all stability as he rounds the corner. You've never suffered from travel sickness before, but now seems like the prime time to develop it.
The lights of the city all bleed into one kaleidoscope of colour. Your sense of direction has been rendered useless, only opening your eyes once every few seconds to make sure that this is real. And every single time, you're surprised to find that it is.
You expect it to be like a dream where you fall, only to wake up at the last second - but you've never had one of those dreams. You've only seen them in movies. You're not even sure they actually exist in real life. Perhaps this would be the closest you'd get to one. A main character moment - though this felt more like a crime-thriller than the rom-com you would have liked.
The feeling of damp wind in your hair like this is new, and exciting, but all you can think about is the fact that you're pretty sure one of your fake lashes just flew off. You pull your hand back to stroke at your lashes, just to check, but it's caught by Jungkook grabbing for it.
"I told you to hold on," he shouts, though he doesn't need to. The vibrations of his vibrato can be felt through his back. "So hold the fuck on, a'right?! I don't say shit like that for fun."
Jesus, you think. Who pissed in his cornflakes?
But he's right. You do need to hold on. He proves it by not warning you the next time he turns, the bike leaning so close to the tarmac that you're convinced you can feel rubber burn. He eases as soon as he hears you shriek, the grip you have on his chest so hard he swears you might puncture his skin. Reaching back, he cups your knee with his palm, checking for any sign of blood or broken skin. Negative. And yet his hand lingers before he retracts it. He's just making sure. Double-checking. Over-indulging.
"The fuck was that, asshole?" You all but scream.
"I told you to hold on, didn't I?!"
He did. And if you weren't doing so now, tighter than before, you'd have hit him so hard in the balls that he'd have no choice but to adopt in later life.
"You could have fucking killed me!"
"Oh, boo-hoo," he sneers, catching his tongue before he says something he'll grow to regret.
Jungkook would never have killed you. He knows these streets like the back of his hand, and how to ride his bike almost as well as he knows how to get himself off. It's second nature. Innate. A gift.
But before you can argue back, he draws to a stop, his exhaust rattling, the motor purring. As much as he'd like to tell you to get the fuck off his bike, he can feel you trembling now. A part of him - a very slim, deeply hidden part - feels guilty for being so hard on you.
He's grown up with bikes. Trusts them. Lives, breathes gasoline.
He doesn't imagine you know how to change a bicycle tyre, let alone anything with a motor.
The hand that had checked you for damage earlier returns, his fingertips warm against your goosebumps skin. He strokes lightly, once, twice, quickly. "You're fine," he tells you, and you want to believe him.
"Never said I wasn't."
He snorts a small laugh, then taps your knee, encouraging you off of the bike. His hand remains close as you do so, conscious of the fact that you'll most likely be unsteady on your feet - feet that he now notices are clad in the strappiest pair of heels he's ever seen in his life. Perhaps he doesn't need to worry about your stability at all. If you can walk in those, then you can surely handle a pair of wobbly knees.
Without much thought, you take his offer of assistance, his jacket dwarfing you as you stand, hand clasped in his.
"Where are we?"
The alleyway you're down is unlike the previous one he stole* you from (*rescued). It's cobbled and damp, yes, but the doors down here lead to dwellings, garages too. Not an industrial-sized trash cart in sight. And it doesn't smell like fermented piss either, which is a surprise. You thought that was just the standard for side-streets around these parts.
"Doesn't matter," Jungkook shrugs ambivalently as he unhooks his leg over the bike.
He wants to ask why you're wearing such stupid shoes.
That's a lie.
He doesn't think they're stupid.
He actually quite likes them. You've nice ankles. They look good.
What he really wants to ask is why you're wearing them on a school night. The pair of you might be in college, but it wasn't student night at the clubs, and he hadn't picked you up from a particularly nice part of town.
There are only three types of women he ever sees in Daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. You aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get Percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. He's sure of it.
So it then further begs the question: why the fuck were you there?
Sliding off his jacket, you offer him a small smile. It's the least you can do, you suppose.
It's funny, because you only ever see three kinds of men in Daerim: drunks, gamblers, and dealers. Jungkook isn't any of those. You might not know that much about him, but you know he's a scholarship kid, and that he won the winter film festival on campus for his documentary on back-alley gambling.
"We're not too far from campus," he eventually states. Few blocks over. He assumes you live on campus. Got the money for it.
"Cool," you nod, sure that you'll be able to find your bearings from here. You don't live on campus. Not anymore. No money for it. "Thanks for the lift, I guess."
The atmosphere is awkward, dewy mist in the air dampening both of you. He nods back, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
He knows he should invite you in, offer you somewhere to wait while you call a cab or something, but he's embarrassed. Of himself. His living situation. The fact that he doubts you've ever even been in a basement that isn't a wine cellar.
"Look I-"
"So-"
Jungkooks nose scrunches, cringing at the awkwardness. You glance down, self-conscious.
"What were you doing over in Daerim?" he asks rather out of the blue. He doesn't even process that he's asked until it's too late.
You clear your throat a little. "Just had some errands to run."
"At two in the morning?"
You nod.
"Right," he doesn't believe you, but can't think of a better explanation.
"Well, what were you doing there?" You ask, albeit a little more confrontational than intended. You were on the defensive.
His mouth is flat as he speaks, a narrowness to his eyes that makes your lips purse to suppress a smirk. "Running errands."
So you're both dirty little liars. Who'd've thought?
"Fairplay," you say with a smile. "Look, I still appreciate the ride. I'd have been fine," you add."But yeah, appreciate it nonetheless."
"Was nothing. I was headed in this direction anyway. If you take a left at the end of the street and follow the road down, there's usually a bunch of taxis waiting for the university cleaners to finish their night shifts. I'm sure you'll be able to get one."
"Take a left," you hum. "Cool. Will do." Bracing yourself to leave, Jungkook wonders if he should offer you a lift to your place too. "See you tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, tomorrow. Class? That thing we attend during daylight hours?"
"Oh right. Yeah. See you tomorrow."
Bizarrely enough, if this is how awkward Jungkook is when he's being nice, you think you prefer him being an asshole. At least he has a little spark in him then.
Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook feels overloaded with fucking sparks, like someone's holding an axe grinder against the metal of his earrings, deafening him. The reality of his evening is kicking in, and the knowledge that he came a few metres from having a hole in his abdomen becomes overwhelming. He doesn't let it show, though.
"Thanks, again."
You make a promise to punch yourself in the face if you say thank you one more fucking time.
"It's fine, again," he smiles, with a small laugh, before focusing those eyes of his on the floor.
And so you leave, walking straight past the taxi rank and taking a shortcut to your apartment, which is a lot closer than you had realised.
Seven steps below street level, you jog down to your front door, petting the neighbourhood calico stray on your way down. The door closes with a slam, but you don't give a shit because the people in the apartment above never seem to give a shit when they stumble home at four in the morning.
Before he sleeps that evening, Jungkook wonders how much of the skyline you get to indulge in. Your dad works in the accounting side of one of the largest law firms in the city, he knows that much from his research. Knows that your immediate family has more money than probably all of his relatives combined. Alive and dead.
He just isn't aware that you're not seeing a single dime of it. Not since you dropped out of the economics and business side of school to focus on the creative arts. All that money your parents had 'wasted' on your education? Well, they weren't wasting any more.
Because you're a commodity, to be bought and sold, apparently. Not their daughter, who they should have just wanted to be happy.
So now you spend your Tuesday and Thursday evenings down in Daerim.
Because you are a commodity; and if anyone's gonna be selling you, then it may as well be your fucking self. 
A stack of yellow 50,000 won bills sit on your desk. Twelve of them. 600,000 won. Not bad for a week's work. 6 hours.
Might have been cut off from your Dad's money, but your replacement 'daddy' wasn't a bad substitute.
The bluntness of such a statement usually makes you laugh, but not today.
If Jungkook knows the Daerim area like you think he does, then he'll be able to work it out soon enough. A bitterness fills your chest, like coffee dripping through a filter, forgotten about and left to go cold. You've been so good at playing pretend.
Secrets are so much easier to keep when they're not shared.
Perhaps that should be your project piece.
Secrets of Seoul: The Seedy Underbelly of The City.
After all, that was your unique view of the city; the side you saw that you were pretty sure no-one else did.
At least, no one else except Jungkook. Go figure.
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"SEVEN WEEKS LEFT!" Your professor reminds the class as they dismiss you from your lecture. There's a little chatter, partners sharing ideas and friends discussing what to have for lunch - and then there's you and Jungkook.
He waits by the end of his row for you to walk to meet him, an inconspicuous look on his face.
The girl who he's watching neatly put a fluffy pen into her handbag looks a lot like you, but a hell of a lot different from the girl he gave a lift to last night.
Who the fuck are you?
Jungkook has always liked a little mystery. Seen the romanticism in the unknown. Still doesn't like you - but you've gotten him curious.
"You haven't sent anything over yet," he notes, keeping a slight distance from you as you walk together up the stairs.
"You told me not to bombard you," you remind him.
"Sending me video files once in a blue moon is fine."
"Once in a blue moon. Gotcha."
It's Friday, so he knows it's not one of your pre-determined days of having prior engagements.
It's only now that he realises that must have been why you were in Daerim last night; that your 'errands' are actually scheduled into your routine. It doesn't bode well for his 'not a hooker, an addict or a sugar-baby' theory.
"I was thinking of heading over to Dongdaemun this evening, seeing as you weren't free on Tuesday," he starts a little awkwardly, but the more he speaks, the easier it becomes. Being nice, that is. "I could still use a hand, if you're free? If you're serious about helping out, I mean. It would be good to make a start on things."
Relief washes over you. You've been fearing a conversation about the night before, but Jungkook doesn't want to talk about it just as much as you don't.
You meet him at seven o'clock that evening at Dongdaemun Design Plaza. You've always loved the green roof, how organic the landscaping looks above such a futuristic building. He listens as you explain this, eyes wide and in awe of the sloping pathways and curved walls, showing him your favourite of all the trees in the park.
Jungkook looks at you for a second, observes your hands, how they delicately move a few leaves to frame the shot you're taking. You've a Midas touch, and Jungkook wonders if your fingers would turn him to gold, too.
It's a silly, fleeting thought, but it doesn't stop him from focusing the camera on you as you roam Dongdaemun night market later that evening, lights cascading over you like glitter.
He thinks you're pretty in this light. Pretty when it's just him and you. No distractions.
Except there's hustle and bustle everywhere, a vendor chasing a thief, groups of high schoolers laughing on their way home from Hagwons, food sizzling, vapours making his stomach rumble. Perhaps you're the distraction, instead.
The pair of you spend the next week traipsing the city together.
Somehow, you only ever come together when the sun goes down, but it's fitting. You're a pair of nightcrawlers, swarming through the city when traffic sounds like a melody and destinations are unknown.
He learns that you drink your coffee black, no sugar, lukewarm. You learn that he'd rather rub coffee granules into his eyes than drink it.
And despite your preference for no sugar, he always tosses a little white sachet towards you whenever you order a coffee. He finds it funny. Insists that you have to be a sugar baby. It's the only way he can explain that night he saw you Daerim.
He's just joking. And you pretend not to, but you find it hysterical.
Mainly because he doesn't realise how bang on the money he is.
But also because you can't help but laugh whenever he does.
There's a comfort that grows between the pair of you, a familiarity. A casual ease that doesn't feel dangerous, not even when he's pulsing through the city on his bike, you holding onto him, his leather jacket wrapped around your body. You begin to like the way that the wind feels in your hair, and you stop wearing fake lashes. Jungkook doesn't tell you, but he likes you better with a few freckles showing, dewy highlighter and a little mascara being the only makeup you wear for the midnight city roams.
It's only because you can't be wasting resources reserved for clients on a boy from your film studies class. Times are tough, money is tight. No point in pouring funds into a boy you won't make revenue from. It's a bad business decision.
A few months ago, you did your makeup multiple times a day just for fun. Now you have to ration it. Life... life isn't what it used to be.
But Jungkook is ignorant to that, and you quite like it. Escaping from your reality. Becoming the version of yourself that he thinks you are.
He isn't sure which version of you he wants to spend time with the most; the too-good for him daddy's girl who dresses in Celine and comes with a pout, the enigma who lurks in the shadows that he thought he had a monopoly over, or the master director who seems to rival his talents for capturing moments of life in 4K.
As he watches your brows furrow while you turn your phone upside down, trying to understand a map, he decides that he doesn't care which version he gets.
Jungkook wants what he wants.
There's an impulsion to his desires and subsequent actions that he takes to obtain them. He's driven by gratification, and little else.
On the days he wants to feel wanted, he'll go to a bar. He never whispers false promises or pretends like he's after anything more than what can be achieved in a single night. The girls he goes for tend to see that as a challenge. They think they can convince him otherwise. It's not his fault when they can't. It's not his fault that they end up falling for him regardless. It's not his fault that he never has any intention of loving them back.
He tells them this. They ignore him. It isn't his fault.
On the days he wants to feel accomplished, he'll stay on campus until the cleaners usher him out of the room so that they can prepare it for the next day. Their insistence is lost on him - no amount of Cif can polish the dirt out of the walls. Once a shithole, always a shithole. He'll offer his apologies for getting in their way, and they'll coo over him like he's their own grandson. It's all very sweet.
They tell him not to overwork himself. He lies and says he won't.
On the days he wants to eat more than a single cup of ramyeon - which is most days, given his absolutely mammoth appetite - he'll send Hobi a text and request more drop-offs for that evening. Yoongi will give Jungkook a subtle look whenever a message from Hobi pings through, knowing it mustn't be good news. It never is.
Jungkook tells Yoongi to mind his business - but with a grin and a glint in his eye that eases his friends worry ever so slightly.
Disapproval never stops Jungkook from doing what he wants, regardless.
Not from his friends, from the cleaning ajummas, and especially not from you.
So he ignores the look in your eye, as he encourages you to follow him through a gap in the chainlink fence, which surrounds a disused water tower on the outskirts of the city.
Jungkook wants what he wants.
And right now, he wants to get a shot of the midnight city from his favourite vantage point.
"You said you've taken thousands of shots here," You hiss as a twig snaps beneath your foot. He smirks as you utter out a curse. "Surely you can just reuse one of those?!"
He guides you round, ignoring the ground level rubble, until you get to a ladder that definitely isn't safe for use. It's rusting by the bolts, and has a few vines trailing up it, undisturbed for months. Remnants of paint are flaking from the structure, collecting like ashes on the ground below.
"I have," he shrugs, unhooking your camera bag from your shoulder, popping it into his rucksack for safe keeping. He crouches, putting his palms upwards to offer you a leg up. "You haven't, though. You see the city differently to me, remember?"
He's taunting you. Reusing the phrase from your Professor that you had quoted to him on the first day of the project. Asshole.
Asshole with a smirk that suggests he's only teasing. Suggests that he's fond. Words that suggest he remembers the things you say to him. Memorises them, even.
Curious.
"Can't we just pretend like we see it the same way?"
"No can do, sugar."
"Oh my god, stop calling me that."
You're thankful for the midnight sky and the way it disguises your blush.
As if throwing packets of the white stuff at your face in coffee shops isn't enough, he's taken to calling you 'sugar', too.
"Give me a reason not to," he says as he tilts his head, encouraging you to accept his leg up. You check your feet for mud, then put your trust in his grip.
"I've already told you, I was just running errands," you defend yourself for the thousandth time. A short yelp escapes your lips as he boosts you up, your hands gripping onto the flaking bars beside the ladder.
He doesn't believe you for a second. He also doesn't believe that you're actually a sugar baby. It's just fun to fuck with you a little.
Once you're up, he waits for you to safely sit on the ledge, and then he makes the climb too. He's up a lot quicker than you, coming to sit beside you with his legs dangling over the ledge of the railings.
"Tell me it isn't worth it," Jungkook says a little airily, enamoured with the view.
And he's right. It is worth it.
A maze of city lights twinkle like the Carina nebula, interstellar, yet entirely of this earth. Bright whites, reds and greens speckle the horizon, and for a moment, it's easy to forget that you're looking at Seoul. There's a magic that can only be appreciated from a distance, far away from the scent of alleyways and the void nothingness of grey brick buildings. Skyscrapers tower above the skyline, but still look small from where you and Jungkook sit, silently, in awe.
"Look over there," he points across the vast expanse. You follow his trajectory, but you have no idea if you're picking out the right spot. "Daerim. Can always tell. Know the street layout too well."
"You're gonna get me thinking you're a sugar baby," you nudge your shoulder into his, and he laughs.
Reaching into his rucksack, you expect him to pull out your camera. Instead, his hand comes back into vision holding a pair of chopsticks and a tub of instant ramyeon. Uncooked.
He pulls the seal back, stabs at it with the chopsticks and offers you the small chunk he's broken off.
"It's good," he promises.
You know what dried ramyeon tastes like. You know it's good. You just can't understand what the fuck is wrong with him.
"Are you broken?"
He grins as he tosses the chunk of dried noodles into his own mouth. "Absolutely - but ramyeon is ramyeon."
You tell him he's weird, and he continues to smile, not resisting as you take the tub from him and break off a chunk with your fingers.
It's one of his favourite snacks. He's impatient and impulsive at the best of times. Waiting for it to cook? Too much effort. Cooking it at the convenience store and carrying it up the tower with him? Disaster waiting to happen. It's just easier this way.
And so the pair of you sit, not really saying much, watching the city roll by. Every now and again, he offers you a chunk from his chopsticks.
By the end of the night, neither of you have gotten any footage of the city.
And neither of you really care.
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AS YOU SPRINT home after yet another spree around the city with Jungkook, running late for your Thursday evening appointment, you curse your inability to send his calls to voicemail. 
You should really be working more. You need to be working more - but for the past four weeks now, you've answered every single one of his calls.
His messages? Yeah, you ignore those. He's learnt this, though. He messages you regardless, because... well, because he wants to, quite frankly. He doesn't give a shit if you respond.
He knows you read them.
He knows you saw that picture he sent of a flyer detailing a live art event last week. He knows that you noticed the veins on his arms.
You don't know that he'd spent a couple of minutes tensing his arm before he took the picture. Deliberately.
It's been said before that Jungkook wants what he wants - and what he wants more than anything, frustratingly, is your attention.
The way you study his arms the next time you see him proves that he's gotten it.
If anything, the delayed gratification makes it so much more worthwhile. 
You have been thinking about him.
So as far as Jungkook is concerned, you can ignore his messages all you like, because you still always answer his calls with an airy 'hi,' as if talking to him takes your breath away.
The only time you don't answer is between the hours of eleven and two on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.
Chances are, if he just so happens to be in the area - which he always is - he'll catch you down on the wrong side of the tracks at just gone quarter past two.
He still calls you 'sugar', teasing you for the reputation of the area. You just roll your eyes and grin, then banter with him about how even if you were a sugar baby, he wouldn't be able to afford your prices.
He argues that he'd pay in ways that didn't include monetary value.
You don't ask him to expand.
But as you wipe your watery lash line in the bathroom of a shitty rental apartment in Daerim, you think about what he could have meant. If he actually meant it. 
The TV blares from the living room, faint vapours of a mango e-cigarette wafting through the gap beneath the door. You've always thought mango smells like cat piss. Rancid.
Whatever Jungkook could have meant didn't matter. His flirty tone and angel eyes didn't pay the bills. The cash tossed down on the bathroom counter did - or more specifically, the widower, who occasionally wanted company from a pretty young girl, did.
A hundred thousand won for an hour, three hundred thousand total. It takes you just a week, two appointments, to make up the month's rent - but you still need to eat, to study, survive. 
And so you return, every week.
It's not his actual apartment. He lives over in Gangnam, close to his kids' schools. More money than sense. He doesn't tell you much about his personal life. You think a lot of his small claims are lies, anyway - but you smile and flutter your lashes as if he's reciting bible verses.
Some nights are better than others. Sometimes, he genuinely makes you laugh. Occasionally, he'll ask you what you want to do. Takes you to museums. Fancy dinners. Theatre shows.
But he has a nasty streak, and in those three hours, you're his. He owns you. There's no sex, that's not the arrangement, but his hands have been known to roam, and the disparity of equality within your working relationship becomes apparent. You brush it off, tell yourself that it's natural for a man engaging with you in a romantic capacity to forget the rules. You tell yourself that it's okay.
The churning in your stomach and dis-ease of such a situation tells you that no, it isn't okay. But if you laugh at his painfully unfunny jokes loud enough, you're able to drown out the noise in your head.
The worst nights are the ones where he pays you extra.
There's no discussion anymore. The stack of notes is just thicker than usual upon arrival, and you know that at some point during the night, you'll have to sit in silence and watch as he sinks his hand down into his pants.
It's easy to forget the way it looks. Your eyes glaze over, and the discomfort, the slight disgust, indicated in your features gets him hard. He thinks it's taboo. Thinks you enjoy it too. That your panties look a lot like his hand by the time he's finished.
The snort-like grunts are what you find hard to forget. The wail of a moan that comes when he does. You hear that shit in your nightmares.
But it earns you an extra two hundred thousand, so you endure it because you don't have much of an option at this point.
Come 2 AM, cash stuffed down your bra, you don't have to think about it anymore. The fresh air of the city, a little smoggy and polluted, hits you like a freight train. You thank it.
When Jungkook enters Daerim that evening, he expects to find you. He normally does. You never look particularly happy - in fact, he often tells you that you've got a face like a slapped arse - but it's more so today.
He whistles from across the street, clad in black, a thick hoodie keeping him warm beneath his leather jacket. "Oi, Sugar," he calls, that boyish grin on his lips. Teeth so pretty you wonder how much novocaine it would take for you to be numb to the way it makes your stomach flip.
Eyes dancing up and down your body, he likes what you're wearing. Black tights, black dress that cuts off at your mid-thigh, a sweetheart neckline and chiffon sleeves that puff around your slender arms. He decides your boots are far more sensible than the heels you're usually in.
"That'll be twenty thousand, Jeon," you call back, arms folded over your chest as you change direction to walk towards him.
"Per hour?"
"Per every time you call me that stupid fucking name."
"What would you rather?" he goads, leaning against a window ledge on the back of a restaurant building. There's nothing down the alleyway, just trashbags and the distinct scent of fermenting piss. "Shugs? SB? Baby?"
You smirk, walking to the wall opposite him, mirroring his position, hands resting beside you on the ledge. There's a safe distance between the pair of you. A look, but don't touch type of vibe - but this time, unlike earlier on in your evening, you actually enjoy it.
"You really gotta make your mind up," your eyes roll, lips rising into a crescent. "One minute I'm a trust-fund princess with Daddy's money on tap, the next I'm a sugar baby with a different type of Daddy altogether."
Jungkook shrugs. "Just don't see why you waste your evenings roaming fucking Daerim of all places."
"Best dandanmian in the city," you say, referencing the abundance of traditional Chinese restaurants in the area. "Can't get the authentic stuff in Itaewon."
"Can't get hookers in Itaewon like you can in Daerim, either," he taunts you.
He doesn't really think you're a hooker, but he likes the way you grin whenever your eyes roll.
"Ah, so that's why you're here."
He holds his hands up to playfully admit defeat. "Guilty."
You laugh, knowing that there's no way in hell Jungkook will ever have to resort to hookers. Not when he looks like that. All doe-eyed and charming, floppy hair just begging for a pair of hands to run through it.
The pair of you let the moment simmer, droplets of water dripping from the drainpipe and into the sewer. He's lit by the neon light of a restaurant sign, red and yellow painting him like an impressionist masterpiece.
"You look cold," he acknowledges, but you shake your head and insist you're fine. Your hair is a little damp from the small shower you'd been caught in a little while previously, mascara smudged around your eyes. You looked like that before the rain, mind you. He shakes his jacket off and tosses it across to you, snorting quietly as it hits your face and crumples over your feet. "C'mon. I'm now about to ride home. I'll give you a lift."
He asks for your address, and you tell him that you'll just get a taxi from his place like you normally do. There's no need for him to go out of his way.
"The princess doesn't want the pauper to see her castle, huh?" he teases, always talking in bloody riddles.
"See!" you protest. "Always changing your mind! A minute ago I was a sugar baby, and now I'm a rich bitch again. Which is it, Jeon?"
"I dunno," he reaches behind himself, adjusting your legs and pulling you a little closer into his back, tapping your side to make sure you've got the jacket on. "You tell me, sugar."
He doesn't see you roll your eyes, but he knows you do it. You always do. Even when your pretty pink nails are clutching the fabric of his shirt, you pretend like you don't enjoy his company.
You've gotten good at playing pretend. 
Jungkook only jokes about you being a sugar baby.
He doesn't fathom that you actually are one.
His engine begins to purr, and Jungkook kicks up the stand, setting off into the night.
The way you hold onto his waist is different tonight.
Physically, it's the same.
But it feels different.
And it is, because you're not just holding onto him; you're hugging him. Comfort in an old routine. You adjust your arms, keeping tight against his back, and he pretends like he doesn't notice the shift in dynamic.
He pretends as if he didn't notice your sad eyes earlier, too, and as if he can't feel the stutter in your chest as if you're trying not to cry.
Jungkook isn't a knight on a white horse, and nor does he want to be - but he doesn't mind being your rogue bandit who steals you away from the things that make you sad.
He's just an arc in your fairytale, not your happy ending.
But you've always been a sucker for a bit of a plot twist.
When you arrive at his, he wants to ask you to stay. He doesn't want an orange taxi cab to appear at the end of his lane and act like your actual knight in shining armour. He doesn't want you to ride into the sunrise with anyone but him.
And as luck would have it, your phone shares his desires.
Well, no. It doesn't. It's a mobile phone. It doesn't have cognitive thoughts - but it is out of charge.
"Different charging ports," he grits his teeth as he holds up his Samsung after you ask if he's got an iPhone charger. "I'm pretty sure I have an apple cable lying about though. You can come in for a second, get a little bit of charge just so that you're not stranded in a taxi without a way to contact anyone."
You nod appreciatively. "You sure?"
He doesn't answer, instead holding his door open and ushering you inside.
Jungkook cares in strange ways. He's practical, forward-thinking, trying to find solutions to problems that you'd normally shrug your shoulders at.
He's never told anyone that he loves them before, but he did once swap the hinges on his ex-girlfriend's bathroom door to the other side, so that it would stop hitting the sink basin every time she opened it. He shows his affections in meaningful ways, often without being asked or expecting anything in return.
Neither of you realise it yet, but this is one of those occasions.
It's not until you're perched on the worktop bench in his kitchen that he realises he let you in without hesitation. No longer embarrassed of where he lived, he kind of likes having you here.
You look out of place, silver pendant round your neck, expensive, and hair professionally coloured, nails done, toes, too. Not that he can see them. He just remembers a conversation you had once over chicken and a beer about the fact your toes always matched your nails.
Small details like that are what he thinks about when he's alone; like the way you blink a little faster when you're confused, and how you sprinkle Cheeto dust back into the bag off of your fingers instead of licking them like he does. He thinks about the way you laugh in his company, and how he's never heard you laugh like that with anyone else. And he tries to stop, but dammit, he thinks about how sexed up you look on those Daerim nights.
You're dressing like that for someone else, he knows that much.
But he gets to indulge in it too, when your body is pressed against his back as he takes you home.
He's stopped asking what you do in Daerim. He doesn't want to know.
For a few minutes a night, when he's alone, he likes to pretend what it would be like if he was the one you were dressed like that for. Only ever a minute or so. Gets him too hot. Finishes him off too quickly. Absolute sin.
"Kook?"
He doesn't even realise he's halted his movements until your voice breaks him from his thoughts. His jeans tonight are tight, and do a pretty good job of hiding the swelling between his legs. Fucking uncomfortable, though.
"Sorry," he doesn't turn to face you. "Was just trying to remember where I last had the cable."
"I was just saying that it's fine. It's really not that far. Don't wanna be a bother."
"Why'd you say shit like that?" he turns to face you, face twisted a little. He's annoyed.
"Like what?"
"Call yourself a bother. You do it a lot."
"I don't."
"You do," he insists, and you can't work out why he's so annoyed by it. You want to apologise all over again. "You just-" he takes a moment to find the right words. "I dunno who's conditioned you into thinking everything you do is bothersome, but it really isn't. If I didn't wanna help, then I wouldn't. It's not a bother. You're not a bother."
And you don't know why, but for some reason, you choke up a little. It's not like he said anything particularly groundbreaking, it's just for the last few months, your entire existence has felt like a drain on those around you.
The money you can live without, but you miss family dinners on Sundays, and face timing your little sister, more than you can even begin to explain.
And while no, you didn't want your parents' money, you didn't want to keep seeing a perverted old man just to be able to afford to eat, either. The flat rate was 500,000 now. Every single time. Without fail. You hadn't put the price up. He was just always paying extra. Always touching his prick. Always jerking himself off over your repulsion.
Earlier that evening, he had queried how much it would cost him to finish on your chest. You told him a million. He asked if you accepted bank transfers. You told him no. He offered 1.2 mil.
Part of you considered it. It's a lot of money. Not something to be taken lightly.
But when you ran into Jungkook, just like you knew you would, you were adamant you had made the right choice. He had scanned your body, getting a read on your mood, assessing what you needed, what you wanted, and then had offered up his jacket. All doe-eyed and sparkling. You finally got what all the girls swooned over, 'cause you were doing it too.
"Hey," he says softly, noticing the way your eyes are reddening. "Hey, hey, no. Don't cry, sugar."
You laugh through the first couple of tears. Stupid fucking nickname.
"I meant it," you sniff, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands. He's standing closer now, hesitant to touch, hands hovering around you. "20 thousand won, Jeon. Pay up."
His fingers tenderly wrap around your wrists, keeping them from rubbing at your face again. He's smiling, eyes ever encompassing, cheeks so appled that you bet you could get drunk off the cider he'd produce.
"Can we do it on an I.O.U. basis?" he speaks quietly, playfully. "I get paid on Monday."
It's a lie. He gets his commission cut straight from his sales figures. There's 2 million won in his rucksack. He only gets ten percent. 200K. His job's not nearly half as lucrative as yours, but it's still nothing to be laughed at. He's making bank.
"Nuh-uh," you sniff again, letting out a little laugh. He laughs too. "Told you that you couldn't afford me."
And then it's silent. You can hear your heartbeat. He moves a little closer.
"Told you I'd just pay in other ways."
His voice is hoarse, as if he's scared. 
As if he fears the consequences of his claim.
Your eyes drop to his lips. They're trembling slightly. Preparing.
The grip he has on your wrists loosens. He's giving you freedom. He's giving you the chance to back out, to run away.
But you don't.
"Pay up, then," you all-but whisper, lips closing on his.
Jungkook doesn't stall, no, but it takes him a second to respond. To realise.
And once he does, his brows furrow into the kiss, demanding that you know just how much he wants this. Wants you. Has done for weeks, now.
He pulls your body into his, needing you close. Your body curves, his arm hooked behind your back to keep you balanced.
A surge of intensity washes over you like crimson paint. It'll stain you, and everyone will know: That's her. That's the girl who let Jeon Jungkook kiss her like he actually meant it.
He kisses, and he kisses, and he kisses, and he doesn't stop, as if he knows his first with you will also be his last - and when he finally does stop, forehead on yours, the pair of you are breathing so heavily into each other's mouths that it's as if you're sharing oxygen. Keeping each other alive. Both capable of first-degree murder.
And so neither of you pull away. There's no way he's doing time for you. There's no way you're doing time for him. Looks like you'll just have to kiss forever. Shame. Such a hardship. However will you cope?
"I-" he begins, before cutting himself off, easing his grip on your waist. One of his hands lingers, while the other pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes wincing. "Shit-" he finally lets you go. "I don't know what that was. I'm sorry."
You want to tell him that it's okay, that you didn't mind, that he could do it again - but it's clear he doesn't agree.
"Just adrenaline," you offer, sinking down to perch on the worktop bench. Your defeated posture is hidden well like this. "Don't sweat it."
He stays silent as he turns around to resume his rummaging, looking for a charger that will fit your phone. He knows there's one in there, he just can't for the life of him remember when he last had it.
Everything feels a little awkward. You half think that you should fill the void with something, that you should break the ice, but what was the point? You'll be out of his hair soon.
And you are, home twenty minutes later. You had only charged your phone for ten minutes at his, just enough to get you home. It's about to die again. Not before Jungkook pings you a message, though.
He doesn't expect a response, but he lies awake until he sees your read receipt confirm that you've seen it.
Sadness doesn't suit you, sugar. I'm not gonna pry, but if you ever need a ride earlier than normal out of Daerim, give me a call.
He spent a good six minutes debating whether or not to end his message with a kiss, eventually deciding against it. No need to make the message any softer than it already was.
To his surprise, a bubble pops up on your side of the chat thread.
His heart twinges, your response saying everything he wished he had with just one simple letter:
x
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JUNGKOOK HAS A terrible habit of taking out his stress on the people around him; the ones that he holds closest.
"I just don't see why it's such a big issue," Jimin says through a mouthful of salad greens. His teeth chomp so loudly that Jungkook thinks they'll have to swing by the dentistry labs later that afternoon. Which Jimin'll probably like, considering he won't stop fucking rambling on about a dentistry student at the moment. "She's hot, she's got guys practically falling at her feet and she's interested in you. It's one party. Stop being so fucking boring."
Yoongi casts Jungkook a sympathetic look. He doesn't work so much at the moment, what with his chemistry finals coming up, and especially not in the Daerim area.
That's Jungkook's market now - but he did happen to have a drop-off for a last-minute order a couple of weeks back.  Territory isn't an issue between the friends, with Jungkook respecting Yoongi far too much to ever tell him to back off, or to not take deals in that area.
He had been about to approach Jungkook that night, when he noticed you crossing the street, a smile plastered on your face. He couldn't see Jungkook's face from the angle he was at, but he could see how raised his cheeks were. And so he left the pair of you to it, knowing better than to stick his nose where it wasn't wanted.
Unlike Jimin, apparently.
"Not boring," Jungkook retorts, tossing the wrapper his chopsticks came in at Jimin's face. "Got a bunch of assignments due in."
"Dude, you've been MIA for weeks. If we didn't have classes together, I'd have sent out a search party by now."
"You're being dramatic."
"You're being boring."
"Kids, settle down," Yoongi interjects, and wonders why he doesn't just find friends his own age. Logistics, he decides. The perils of having to save up for university before he could actually attend.
Jimin, being Jimin, then proceeds to bicker with Yoongi, leaving Jungkook free to find your face amongst the canteen crowd. You're sat with friends, none of whom he's ever met.
Your hair is up, like it always is during school, but you've let your grown out bangs frame your face. Pretty, he thinks. Prettiest girl here.
But then you stand up, and Jungkook turns caveman. Head empty. No thoughts. Just nonsense. Jesus Christ. Who gave you the right? God damn.
A few months ago, he would have looked at you in that outfit - a silky sage green playsuit over a white tee, sunglasses resting on your head like an alice band and a pair of white converse on your feet - and he probably would have scoffed. Wouldda said some bullshit about the fact you're dressed like a child, or that the weather isn't good enough to warrant such an outfit.
A few months ago, he was a fucking idiot.
You feel his gaze on you, just like you always do.
And you ignore it.
You've been getting good at that. Pretending as if you don't feel his eyes. As if you're unaffected, unbothered by the simplest form of intimacy: a single look.
He knows you've been keeping your distance. Watching from afar is all he can do when you slink out of class before he can catch your attention. He tells himself that he doesn't care.
Jungkook mutes the audio track of the editing software he uses when he stitches together your footage, so he doesn't have to relive your conversations or hear you laugh, or worse, hear himself laugh.
It's all a bit nauseating.
Maybe a party would actually be a good distraction.
"Tonight, did you say?" Jungkook pipes up out of nowhere, only dragging his eyes away from you when he sees you pull your phone out to send a text. 
He pouts. You never text him. Not once since last Thursday. 
And you were nowhere to be seen on Tuesday.
He had called you, and for once, you didn't pick up. He didn't try again. Decided that it was on you just as much as it was on him.
That being said, he didn't get home till four in the morning, two and half hours after his last deal. Spaffed away an entire tank of petrol. Rode in fucking circles. Just in case.
"Now we're talking!" Jimin grins. "Tonight. It's her birthday, she's rented a bar in Itaewon - Dad knows the landlord or something."
Jungkook didn't know who 'she' was. Hadn't been listening to that part of the conversation.
"Well, you kids enjoy yourselves," Yoongi sighs as he gets to his feet. "Can't risk my finals over a few crappy drinks in a shitty bar."
"Oh boo-hoo!" Jimin pouts. "Spoilsport."
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When Jungkook enters the bar that evening, he's greeted with everything he expects. E-cigarette vapours cloud the air, a cocktail of flavours violating his senses as he heads to the bar, shitty EDM pumping through the speakers. It's been a while since he let his hair down, so to speak.
There's something about him that commands attention. People gravitate towards him, even through the smoke clouds and sweaty bodies. Girls buy him drinks. Guys buy him drinks, too. Anything just to spend time in his presence. Like leeches, they hope to share some of Jungkook's aura.
It's impossible, though. It's Jungkook's authenticity that gives him such charisma. Trying to emulate it only ever comes off as tacky - like the guy towards the back of the room who's permed his hair to look like Jungkook's. Pierced his eyebrow, too. Looks like shit. Jungkook doesn't want to judge him, but he's a few drinks deep, and being kind is what got him into that mess with you in the first place.
No good ever comes from being nice.
He takes a shot. Tequila. Chases it down with lemonade. The girl next to him is playing with the bracelets on his wrist. Her nails scratch a little bit, and he quite likes it, so he doesn't resist when pulls him onto the dancefloor. He observes the way she moves first, and isn't disappointed. She knows how to move her hips, and seems to like it when he puts his hands on them. He can't really feel the sensation when she kisses him. The alcohol has numbed his lips. Maybe Jimin was right to force him into this.
By the time he goes to the bar for another drink, he's faded. Off his tits. Helped himself to some of Hobi's stash that he was supposed to be distributing that evening. A little bit of coke never does him any harm. He knows his limits. Tastes like shit down the back of his throat, but he kind of enjoys it.
At first, he thinks he must be seeing things when he catches you with an espresso martini in hand, laughing with people he doesn't know.
You've this whole life that he's no part of. A whole entire world. He really is an outsider looking in.
You're one of the elite; an old-money heiress. The type to own a miniature dog breed and only fly business class. It was stupid of him to think your interest in him had been anything more than entertainment. A 'little bit of rough.' Excitement away from the confines of the life he's sure your parents must have planned out for you.
It might just be because he's coked up, but he doesn't care about any of that. 
All he can think about is the fact he's pretty sure you've never looked more beautiful.
He feels so lost looking at you like this, as if he needs to be closer, for fear of losing sight of you entirely.
And so he sits beside you at the bar, orders his drink, waits for you to notice him. Which you do.
You'd spotted him the very second you walked into the bar, his hands all over some girl you don't know.
In all fairness, you didn't realise he would be there. Sohyun, the girl whose birthday it was and an old friend from high school, has been fawning over Jungkook for months. Just superficial drawling, comments about his thighs and the fact she'd quite like to be suffocated by them. Harmless, really. You know she's never actually made a move.
Sohyun doesn't know you're working on a project together. You avoid the topic of him altogether, especially with her.
But she does notice the way Jungkook is looking at you like he's seen a ghost; haunted and comforted all in the same expression.
"You're here," he finally says, and it feels as if your chest is about to cave in.
Turning to face him, you're casual in your posture. Unbothered. Completely unaffected by him, and the lipstick that's painting those lips of his that you like so much.
You raise your thumb and swipe it across his bottom lip. He's silent as you do so, watching you, holding his breath. His lip moves like rubber beneath your touch, soft and supple, springing back into position once you release it.
You raise your thumb to study the lipstick you've collected from him. "Plum's really not your colour, Jungkook."
He doesn't say anything, a little transfixed. It's barely ticked past midnight. You should be in Daerim.
In all fairness, so should he. Hobi had some choice words for Jungkook when he told him that he wasn't working that evening at such short notice.
You swipe open your phone and repeat the step, filming your thumb as Jungkook becomes captive to your touch. You want to look, to see how wide his dark eyes are, but you're too busy feigning disinterest.
"There," you smile, forwarding the video along before you lock your phone. "Just sent you a video of how I see the city tonight."
You've no right to be annoyed. You know that.
Jungkook can be in a bar with another girl's lipstick on his chin if wants to be. He can stay out all night, and he can stay in beds that aren't his. It's his prerogative.
But you are annoyed.
It's irrational, and pathetic, and you shouldn't be.
You barely know him. Not really.
After you'd shown him your favourite tree at the Design Plaza a few weeks ago, he'd insisted on taking you across town to Garosugil, a street in Gangnam lined with beautiful tall trees. He questioned why you only had one favourite tree, when you could have had an entire row of them instead.
At the time, you'd enjoyed the way his eyes looked beneath the lights of the designer stores that neither of you could afford. You didn't question what he had meant.
It seems like you found your answer.
"I'm not the city," he eventually says.
And he's right.
He's not the city.
Fuck it, no, he's not the city, but his eyes sparkle like Itaewon on Friday nights, and his hands are strong like the World Cup Bridge. He's not the city, but you find it so easy to get lost in him without a map, and sometimes wearing his leather jacket makes you feel like you're eating comfort food at your favourite breakfast bar over in Myeong-dong. He's not the city.
He's not the goddamn city.
But it feels a little like you'd accidentally anchored your navigation pin in him regardless.
All you do is smile, and tell him that he's right.
"Look," he begins, and you can smell the spiced rum on his breath.
"It's okay," you interrupt. Who are you to make him feel guilty for his promiscuous encounters?
He doesn't know what you do in the dark. Not really. If he did, he probably wouldn't have kissed you last week.
"No, I-" he cuts himself off like he always does when he doesn't wanna fuck up his words. The alcohol is doing him absolutely zero favours. "I dunno, sugar."
Your smile is sad, and he hates himself. You lean forward, press a kiss into his rosy cheek and whisper, "That'll be 20,000, Jeon."
And because he's drunk, and he wants to make things better, he reaches for his wallet. You were about to walk away regardless, but damn, if the boy doesn't know how to hit you where it hurts.
"Really, Kook?"
It's like he doesn't know you at all; doesn't remember how you banter with him, how you flirt with him. Or maybe you were just stupid for thinking that you'd been flirting with him in the first place. Maybe he just speaks to everyone how he speaks to you. Must have spoken to whoever was wearing that lipstick in the same way.
He doesn't answer, not verbally, but his brows pinch together and his lips develop a frowning pout.
When he stumbles home that evening, he asks himself the same question: really, Kook?
In the morning, he wakes alone, with no recollection of how he got home. 
He doesn't remember the girl from the bar, or the fact that Jimin threw up in a fish tank, or that they're now barred from three different establishments for encouraging people to snort fish food (which Jungkook had stolen while Jimin was emptying his stomach). Regretfully, he doesn't even remember your arrival at the first bar. Doesn't remember how, for once, you'd dressed to impress just him.
His lack of recollection means fuck all though, 'cause despite his headache, the thing weighing down most heavily on him is guilt. He feels a sense of duty when it comes to you; duty that he hasn't performed lately. Were you getting home safe? Getting harrassed by scummy fuckers on the Daerim path of destruction?
Out of habit, he checks his phone, ignores the messages from unknown numbers and goes straight to your message thread to check the damage. He's surprised to find that he didn't drunk text you, but even more surprised to find that you'd messaged him. It's a video, just a few seconds, but it's enough to provoke some of his memories back.
He watches your thumb as it glides across his bottom lip. Watches it again. Notices the lipstick. Notices the thumb ring he never realised you wore before, and the fact that your nails are black now instead of their usual pink. There's something erotic about it; the way you touch him. The way you filmed yourself touching him. He'll probably get in trouble for it, but there's no way he isn't adding that to your project.
You consider ignoring his call when your phone flashes with his caller I.D.
It's only just gone seven, and you're still in bed, still try to make heads or tails of your life.
But you're weak, and so you slide your thumb across the little green icon.
"Hey."
"Uh, hey."
"You good?"
"So hungover, I think I might die," Jungkook jokes, voice hoarse. You wonder if he always sounds like this in the morning. "Just wanted to check in with you though. Barely seen you all week, and then I end up with a weird-ass video in our message thread that I don't remember."
Ah. You cringe.
"Ran into you at the bar," you shrug, not that he can see you. "Didn't realise you were friends with Sohyun."
"Hmm?"
"Sohyun... the girl who's birthday it was?"
"Oh. Right. Yeah. Nah, no, not really friends with her. Jimin forced me along."
You don't know all that much about Jimin, but from your limited interactions with him, it doesn't surprise you. Not in the slightest.
"Good night?"
Your question sounds forced and awkward, and he doesn't quite understand why.
"No idea," he admits honestly. "Remember fuck all."
He sounds as if he wants to keep talking but doesn't know what to say.
You don't know what to say either.
It's a mess. You liked it better when he hated you.
"Were you at the bar for long?" He asks, genuinely curious. "You're normally busy on Thursdays?"
"Just a drink. Had a last-minute change of plans."
"Oh?"
"Yeah..."
You know he wants you to elaborate. He wants more without having to explicitly ask for it.
Which is apt. Seems like it's a common occurrence with Jungkook.
"So what did you call for?" you change the topic, not wanting to dwell. The aversion doesn't go unnoticed by him, but it does go unquestioned.
"I-" there he goes again, cutting himself off prematurely. Coward. "Are you free? Now?"
Oh.
Not a coward. Just cautious.
"Now? I mean, yeah, I guess."
Jungkook takes a second, and then he bites down on the grenade pin.
"Can you come over?"
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THE WAY YOU keep Jungkook hanging on tenterhooks is deliberate.
You're unsure of him, of his motivations, and what he does in the dark. And so, while you want to let your guard down, you can't. It's probably something to do with your parents - the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally - making their love entirely conditional and withdrawing it so suddenly.
It's the kind of shit you would have spoken about with your therapist, but you can't afford her anymore.
Can't afford much of anything, anymore. So much of the money you've earnt recently is tied up in credit card debt or rent.
Foundation was the first luxury that you'd compromised, and you're still yet to buy any more. Cheap stuff always makes you break out, and thankfully your parents did give you decent genetics, at least, so your skin was pretty clear.
It's the lack of make up that suggests to Jungkook you're opening up; not hiding from him anymore.
But it's also what tells him something is incredibly wrong, when you show up at his door half an hour later with a graze beneath your eye. Little flecks of reddened skin creep up your cheekbone, and Jungkook thinks it almost looks like carpet burn.
He hadn't noticed it last night, but it was dark, and he was drunk.
He lets you in, takes your jacket, offers you a drink. Everything that he knows he should do. Asks how you are, keeps a safe distance.
You don't know why you're here. Why you didn't say you were busy.
Except you do. 
It's cause you miss him whenever you're away from him.
"I like these," you smile as you look at the artwork he has up in his room. The studio space is small, cramped, like all semi-basements are, but it's distinctly 'his'. A lot different to yours. Everything you own is still in boxes, not yet unpacked. 
You've refused to come to terms with that being your life now.
"Thanks," he nods, watching you as you explore the box of a room he calls home. "They're from a guy down by the coach station. Has a little stall."
"You'll have to show me," you muse, turning to smile at him. It's saccharine, but the graze on your face is just so bitter. He hates it. Hates that he doesn't know how you got it. "Think I'd like some for my place."
"I have a feeling they'd look a little out of place in a princess tower, sugar."
Your shoulders shake as you laugh quietly, not correcting him. He doesn't need to know that you're a basement dweller, too.
"How's the editing coming along?" You steer the question away from your living situation.
"Nearly there," he grins, brimming with quiet excitement. Something about the way your camerawork looks with his editing technique layered on top just really works. He's always been confident with his final projects, and this one scares him a little bit, but in a good way. It's his best yet. Maybe he did need you after all.
"Can I see?"
"Not yet."
"Kook," you say, and - oh god - you're pouting. Jungkook suddenly begins to feel nervous.
It's that scary feeling again. A fear of the good stuff. Trepidation.
"What?" he grins, walking a little closer to you, letting his hand stroke against your back as he sits down on his bed. His fingers catch yours. It's fleeting, but enough.
You both feel it.
"Such a tease," you say, talking about the project, but there's innuendo in your words, too.
"Some girls like it," he flirts back.
"The girl at the bar last night seemed to like it."
Jungkook rolls his eyes, boyish and charming. It's annoying, you think, how impossible it is to be mad at him. It's not because you're weak, or because you can't resist his charms, but because he has a way of playing things off as if they're no big deal.
The girl at the bar? A nobody, his shrug suggests. She doesn't matter.
And it's so easy to believe, because you're the one in his apartment. You're the one he wanted here, the one that he missed. Or at least, the one that he was thinking of when he decided that he could do with some company.
It might be nothing, just something to pass the time, but it makes you feel wanted. Desired. Needed.
So you accept his hand when he reaches out towards you, pulling you closer, positioning you between his spread legs. You're standing, his eyes level with your chest, unashamed as he looks at your body.
"You look warm," he husks.
Just like he always uses your body temperature as excuse to give you his jacket, he's using it as an excuse now, too. The desired effect is obvious.
His AC switchboard is on the wall behind his bed. You'd clocked it when you were walking around, observing his possessions. Yanmar, the branding reads, the plastic outer frame beige. Once, it would have been crisp white. Age has dulled it. The monochrome monitor has a clock symbol in the corner, an indicator that Jungkook has his AC set on a timer. It suggests a sense of permanence. This is his home.
You haven't set your timer yet. You just flick it on when you get hot. It isn't your home.
He watches you as you move, curious. He's smirking, because he just cant help himself. 
And because he knows that you like it whenever he does. Gets you a little bit flustered.
One of your knees hooks over his lap, and then the other follows suit.
He'd have said you were straddling him. You'd have argued that you were simply reaching over to the AC.
And you do exactly that, flicking the switch, watching as it lights up. "There. Much better."
Touche, he thinks. Smiles. Grips your thighs, as if he's scared you'll stand up again. Scared to lose you.
In all honesty, he had been hoping you'd take your shirt off, but he isn't going to complain with you in his lap, instead.
Doesn't matter if you mix the eggs with the milk first, or the flour. You still bake a cake at the end of it all.
Jungkook looks at you in such a way that you find yourself thinking maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so horrible to let someone in. His eyes are honest, void of ulterior motives. He's doing this because he wants to. Because he wants you.
Wants that feeling back. The one where his lips are cushioned between yours, his tongue licking into your mouth.
Jungkook wants what he wants. Jungkook gets what he wants.
And, fuck, if it isn't bare minimum - but you know this, and you don't care. Bare minimum tastes pretty fucking good when you're licking it from his lips.
His hands roam, and you let them. He's rough with his movements, but the fleshy pads of his fingertips are soft, like silk against your skin. It's almost like he's afraid, filled with the knowledge that he can bruise, if he really wants to.
But he doesn't want to. He wants to ask about the graze that's sitting pretty where blush should be. Jungkook doesn't wanna hurt. He wants to heal.
"I catch you looking, you know," you tell him before he gets a chance, wanting to see how he responds. "Every now and again..." He hikes you forward in his lap. Places you dead centre over his cock. You can feel it. He can feel you. "...I catch you looking at me." He presses a kiss against the base of your neck, obsessed with the way it vibrates when you speak. "Why are you always looking at me?"
The fact that you're sat in his lap, grinding your hips against a solid bulge, should be indication enough.
Jungkook isn't going to spell it out for you. The eroticism of suggesting he's a fucking voyeur makes him want to laugh - but the way your nipples are tenting the shirt you're wearing distracts him.
His teeth graze your throat, hands creeping round to your tummy. His fingers are long, practically the length of the expanse between your hips and the underneath of your plump tits. Just a little further and he'd be holding them, cupping them, caressing. Just a little further.
"I look at you-" His hands continue their exploration as he leans back, watching the movement beneath your shirt. It somehow feels forbidden - like he can touch, but not look. After all, your question had sounded quite a lot like a telling off. "-because you like me looking at you."
He's fucking with you, trying to get a rise.
"Do I?"
The way that you whimper as he brushes against your nipples has him pulsing his hips. Your eyes close, head tilting back ever so slightly. You like this. The way he does it.
"Uh-huh," he mumbles, lips wet against your neck. His fingers knead into the flesh of your tits, nipples hard in his palm as he relieves his stresses. "Bet you think about it all day, don't you? Think about the way I look at you when no-one else does."
Yes.
"All day?" you smirk between dulcet moans. "You're lucky if I pay you any attention at all."
"I think you're lying," he declares rather boldly, hands all over you. "I think it plays on your mind. I bet you fall asleep thinking about it, don't you?"
Yes.
"Ddaeng."
"I bet you get yourself off thinking about it."
Maybe you do. 
Maybe you've whispered his name in the dead of night, imagining how it would feel to have his body weight on top of yours. Maybe you get intrusive thoughts of that kiss every single time you try to draw close. Maybe Jungkook has made you cum without ever laying a single finger on you.
But even if he has, you won't tell him.
And you don't need to, because his phone buzzing on the bedside table behind you cuts the conversation dry. Jungkook glances towards it automatically, then back up to you. His frustration is evident, jaw tense.
"I gotta get this," he mumbles, encouraging you off of his lap. You don't resist, accepting the last five minutes for what they were: a momentary lapse in judgement. He sighs as he stands, adjusting his trousers, swiping his phone and putting it to his ear. He strolls just far enough away that you won't hear what or who is on the other line. "Hobi. Speak to me."
Hobi, you muse. A friend? A colleague? Another girl?
You swallow back the nauseating feeling in your throat, pretending as if the prospect of Jungkook with someone else doesn't chip away at your self-worth a little bit. It wasn't like you thought you had anything special between the pair of you.
But he was right. You did like him looking at you.
More than you had realised until the prospect of him looking at someone else arose.
From the corner of the room, you could hear Jungkook trying to interrupt the person he was talking to. The first syllable would escape, and then he'd hush again, never quite managing to get the words out in full.
"Ho-" His nostrils look quite cute when they flare, lips pursed, a pair of unique dimples becoming evident. They're different to the usual ones you notice. Full of surprises was Jeon Jungkook. 
"Hobi, can I-" 
He runs his hand through his hair, already dishevelled from your hands. 
"Hobi will you let me fucking talk!"
Attaboy.
The pause that follows Jungkook's outburst would suggest that Hobi had said 'no' - and then a few more choice words. If Jungkook rolled his eyes back any further, they'd surely get stuck.
"Look, I'm a bit tied up right now- no! No, not that. Who? No. I don't know a Taehyung, and even if I did- Huh? Ain't got nothin' to do with Holangi. Don't know a single one of 'em." 
You try to decipher the conversation, but fail. 
"You're a real fuckin' cockblock, yanno?" 
You blush. 
"Fuck it, fine. But you owe me. I'm not saying yes next time."
He glances over to you, catching your raised brow. Next time?
A smile catches on his lips. You thought this would be a one time thing?
He's barely hit second base. If there's one thing you're yet to find out about Jungkook, it's that he loves to win. He won't be satisfied until he's got a home run.
Any other girl, and he'd have probably been running laps for fun by this point, but you... yeah, you didn't bowl him easy hitters, that was for sure.
Jungkook moves with confidence, like he always does, as he strides over to the sofa, the bulge in his pants considerably softened but still present. "Take a picture," he grins. "It'll last longer."
You roll your eyes, but it doesn't stop you from asking if that's an offer. He laughs - that soft, gentle thrum of his vocal chords that sounds so heavenly in your ears - and tells you to behave.
"I just gotta help a friend out," he says as he reaches over you to grab his rucksack. It's heavier now than it ever is at school, the jingle of crushed tin foil rustling as it briefly catches on your knee. He pretends not to notice the curiosity in your eyes. Pretty eyes, though. He quite likes them, especially when he's towering above you and can see the whites just above your lashline. Yeah, he likes them alot. "I'll only be an hour or so. You can stay here, if you like?"
The way he phrases it is so casual that it's almost like you're old friends.
That, or Jungkook's just used to having women he doesn't know very well stay at his place.
You're unaware of the mental gymnastics he's putting himself through. If he could kick himself without looking like a twat, then he definitely would.
Shrugging, you give him a polite smile. "I don't wanna overstay my welcome."
"Nah, you're fine. I can give you a lift back to yours when I'm home? I'll be an hour. Two, tops."
Finally you agree, watching as he leaves like a lovesick puppy, listening out for the familiar rattle of his exhaust pipe. There's a cough and splutter of petrol spitting onto the sidewalk as his motor roars into action, and then he's gone.
You don't hang around for much longer.
You tell yourself that you will. That it would be nice. That you and Jungkook might not be so ill-suited after all.
But as the clock ticks by on the wall, you find yourself getting antsy. You find yourself asking stupid questions. Who exactly is Hobi? What was in Jungkook's bag? Why is he always down in Daerim? Is that where he's gone now?
The thoughts grow, adapt, intrude. Before you know it, you're considering what you'd find if you opened the top drawer of his bedside cabinet. 
Realistically, you know it would probably be a wank sock and a tub of vaseline - it doesn't matter though. Your mind is wondering. You need to scratch the itch.
Just a little peek. He'll never know.
Oh, how you loathe your brain.
What's the worst you could find? A revolver? His ex-girlfriends panties? Love letters? A crack pipe?
Somehow, you'd rather find a pipe than panties. 
It's not that you want Jungkook to be a crack addict. It's just the more that you think about it, the more you come to realise that you really, really don't like the idea of someone else feeling how warm his torso is, or how his upper teeth always nip slightly when he starts kissing you, until the pressure of his pecks plump his lips. You've only experienced it a handful of times, and it's stupid to get carried away, but he just makes it so easy.
He didn't ask you to stay, you tell yourself. He asked you if you wanted to.
Moments of instability like this are exactly why girls like you don't spend time with boys like him. It's stupid. Futile. A game for fools.
You leave his apartment as you found it, with not even a note to say thank you. He's had a squeeze on your tits. You deem that thank you enough. If anything, he should be thanking you.
When he returns, just half an hour after your departure, he can still smell your perfume. He tosses his keys down, calls out your name, and is met with silence. It takes him a moment or so to realise that he's alone.
There's a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn't recognise. Doesn't like. Hates, in fact.
But fine. Fuck it. He didn't want you there anyway. He'd just been doing a good deed. Being kind because - if your face was any indication - obviously someone else had been particularly unkind to you.
Jungkook thinks he knows who, now.
Daerim nights have always been sketchy, but the days are no better. 
He's just the lowest rung on a long ladder of criminals who turn a profit when the sun goes down in Seoul.
Hobi had asked him to drop the stash in his rucksack off at a club, some gang-run joint that Jungkook doesn't know much about, so that he could get them back to his boss. 
That had been the plan, at least.
He slings his bag down, now empty, and sinks into the sofa, not bothering to get a rag to clean himself up. No point. The dried blood will just wash off in his shower. It's not the first time this has happened. He doubts it will be the last.
Jungkook's nose is currently bleeding, dripping down his chin and hitting the ceramic tiles of his apartment with small slaps. A bruise is forming above his left eye socket, and his knuckles are red.
A punch to the face means very little to Jungkook.
He's young, but he's strong. Fast, too. It could have been a lot worse if he wasn't.
He pushes the back of his hand against his nose, sniffing, before unlocking his phone, and dialing a number he knows now by heart.
The dial tone bleeds out, just like his nose.
And so he hangs up, and calls the only person he knows he can rely on.
"Wassup, kid?"
Jungkook doesn't mean to sob, but he cant help it. He knows Yoongi has finals coming up. He doesn't need his bullshit on his plate, too.
"I got jumped Yoongs."
Fuck.
"You alright? Sound pretty bad? Where?"
"Daerim-"
"The fuck you doing there at this time of day?"
"Hobi wanted me to drop off my stash."
"Kook..." Yoongi speaks slowly, coming to a horrific realisation. A few punches had never bothered Jungkook before. Something bigger was at play. "The stash...?"
Jungkook can hear it in Yoongi's voice: fear.
"Gone."
Yoongi sighs down the line. "Hobi know yet?"
"No."
"Alright, get outta your flat," Yoongi begins, not wasting time. Now is not the time for emotions, and it's clear that Jungkook isn't capable of that just yet. "I need you to go somewhere safe, somewhere you can lie-low for a little bit alright? Let me sort it-"
"Yoong-"
"Let me sort it. I got you into this mess. Don't sweat it."
"Ple-"
"Kook. Seriously. Trust me with this."
Yoongi doesn't let him debate it any further - and it's just as well he doesn't, because as soon as he hangs up the phone, another call comes through. Jungkook wants to answer it. Really, he does.
Jungkook's just very aware of the fact that the guy who jumped him had almost been waiting for him. Right by the entrance of the apartment block which he always picked you up from. 
In between blows, he'd warned Jungkook to 'stay the fuck away from the girl'.
The girl who's now returning his call.
"Hey," you say animatedly, having not expected him to call. You thought the pair of you would resume your usual awkward routine of pretending like nothing ever happened. "Sorry, I was in the shower. You good? Sorry I left, I just did-"
"I need a favour," he doesn't bother with formalities.
You want to banter with him, to flirt, but the tone of his voice warns you not to. So instead you tell him that you'll do whatever he needs.
"Can I come over?"
Fuck. Anything except that.
"Please."
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YOU DON'T EXPECT to say yes. You don't expect to care more about him than you do about protecting your own dignity. You don't expect Jungkook to traipse down the stairs that lead to your slovenly open door with a glum look on his bloodsoaked face, as you stand there waiting for him.
But he does.
He makes no comment, no remark about the building. Just wraps his arms around your head, cradling you against his chest as you stand in your doorway. You can hear his heartbeat, thud, thud, thud against his ribs.
Go somewhere safe, Yoongi had told him. It was a no brainer.
"I'm sorry," he says, eventually pulling himself away from you. "I didn't know who else to ask."
You tell him it's fine, and you mean it. Keeping up pretences doesn't really matter so much anymore. Perhaps honesty was overdue from the both of you.
"The fuck happened to you?" You ask, tenderly reaching up to stroke away some of the dried blood from his lip. He winces, hisses, body tense, but he lets you continue. "Sorry."
"Could ask you the same, sugar," he speaks kindly, not wanting you to think he's being critical as he nods to the entryway behind you.
You grit your teeth together and let your hand rest on his shoulder. "King kicked the princess out of the castle."
And, suddenly, it doesn't seem embarrassing anymore. In fact, it seems perfectly apt that Jungkook knows. He doesn't pry, don't push for further clarification. Just nods. Accepts your reality.
"Castles are overrated, anyway," he presses a kiss to your head, and gently guides you through the threshold. The corridor is short, opening up to an open plan studio. The layout varies from Jungkook's, but it's similar in size. Small.
"Ignore the wallpaper," you say of the awkwardly granny-ish floral print. It's beige, so not totally offensive, but dear god, you think it looks like vomit.
"No," he grins. "It's... wow. Your landlord really knows how to make a statement, don't they?"
You perch on your bed and cringe. "A statement... a crime against interior design. Whatever you wanna call it."
Jungkook continues to pace around your room with a curious smile. He's partially deflecting from the fact he knows you're probably dying to ask about his face, and why he was so desperate to be with you, but he's also interested in the life you neglected to share with him.
Brown cardboard boxes are piled high in the corners, your possessions not yet unboxed.
This place is just temporary.
You've got three and a half million won sat on your desk. A couple more weeks, just a few, and you'll have enough for a deposit on a decent flat. Then you can get a regular job, something stable, and you won't have to worry. You could work through the summer and then figure out what to do next. Just as long as you keep on moving upwards, you'll be happy.
"So," you begin gingerly, as you head to the kitchenette beside your bed, wetting a cloth beneath your tap. "You gonna tell me what happened to your face?"
He takes your previous position, inviting himself to sit on the end of your bed, anticipating your return. There's light coming in from the thin windows by your ceiling, hitting directly onto your back. He thinks it's apt. Thinks you're the kind of girl who deserves a spotlight. Thinks that Mother Nature agrees.
Jungkook shrugs, in that lazy, boyish way he so often does, as you walk towards him. He spreads his legs, encouraging you between them, letting his hands graze your thighs. You pretend not to notice as you press the damp cloth to his cheek. Tiny crows legs appear at the edges of his eyes, face wincing from the contact. It's painful.
But being alone would be more painful. He chose to be here. To be with you.
And so he tells you what happened, with as much honesty he can muster. There are some things better left unsaid, his occupation being one of them. You listen attentively, dabbing at his wounds, a frown etched into the lines of your face.
"Stay away from the girl, huh?" you muse, avoiding his eyes as you study his face. His nose is still bleeding, but every time you tell him to tilt his head towards the ceiling, it ends up back in its original position. He can't see you as well with his head tilted back. Doesn't like it. Doesn't wanna do it. "Could be any girl."
Jungkook's dimple forms in his cheek. "No. No, it couldn't."
His fingers that have been grazing at your thighs squeeze tenderly, letting you know he means it. More than he thinks you know. More than he knows he should.
There's a chance that any words spoken between the pair of you could be misconstrued. He doesn't know what his feelings for you are, and you don't really understand yours for him - but you understand your body, and the electric current running beneath your lips, dying for a connection. A little spark.
So you do the only thing that makes sense: you kiss him.
And he kisses you back. Slowly, tenderly, deliberately. His lips melt into yours, hand pulling your legs closer. He encourages you onto his lap, as if he needs to be insufferably close to you. Once you're positioned how he wants, just like you were earlier, he grips your waist, keeping you stationed there.
Jungkook knows he should stop.
He knows he should have paid attention to the pair of fists that warned him off you as his skull hit the pavement earlier that morning, knows he shouldn't let himself get so wrapped up in such a red flag - but he just can't help himself. It's like you're laced in the narcotics he deals, and slowly but surely, you've gotten him addicted.
He's craving. Dying for a hit. Just a little taste of your tongue on his, the scent of your shampoo in his nose.
Red flags, red stop signs, pretty red lips all plump from the kisses he's smothering them in. Red blood, too. His nose is still a little damaged, and the way he's painting your cheek in crimson should repulse you.
Should repulse you.
Like fuck it does, though. You can smell the copper twinge through his plasma, and suddenly it's as if the Cullen's had the right idea all along.
When he pulls back, only for a moment, hands clutching at the side of your face to assess the look in your eyes, he notices it too. Hard not to. You blush all the fucking time, so much so that he knew the shade by heart, and the rouge on your cheek is far too vibrant, too scarlet. It's his fucking blood on you.
It should scare him, he knows. But the way you're looking at him, eyes all wide and glassy, lips swollen and waiting for more, has him unable to think straight. It has him obsessed, the way you don't care. The way he's covered you in blood and you still seem to want more.
But there's a softness to the way in which you're looking at him, mild confusion, as if you've got the same strange warmth running through your veins as he does. It's not a feeling he recognises, pulsing through his bloodstream with every beat of his heart.
Perhaps it's nothing. Jungkook tells himself that it is. Just adrenaline, probably.
You look at his lips, all crimson and blushed, and realise you much prefer the shade of his blood to the plum lipstick that had tainted them the night before. You're delicate as you wipe your thumb along his pouted bottom lip, just like you did in the bar. Except this time, the jealousy that had blossomed in your diaphragm is nowhere to be found. There's still a pinch beneath your ribs, but this time it's in your heart, and it's far more aching. This time, you feel his hurt.
Jungkook reaches down to where you left the damp cloth on your bed. It's wet and heavy in his hand, a little warm, too. He brings it to your face and dabs silently, cleaning you of the mess he's made. Fixing you. Restoring you to your former glory.
Its futile, 'cause his nose is still fucking bleeding, and you don't plan on leaving it more than a moment before you kiss him again. You simply don't care. Want him for all that he is, blood, sweat and tears.
But still, he insists on ridding you of his stain. Doesn't want to tarnish you. He's soft with the way he presses the cloth against you, mirroring how tenderly you were with him earlier. He's learning from you, adapting to you. Wants to be like you. Wants to be 'better'.
You watch as his eyes scan your face, brows twisted like they always do when he's about to say something but stops himself. The vertical groove just above his cupid's bow is red, blood tacky as it dries. If he kisses you now, he'll leave a stamp; a mark that says 'you're mine.'
It's too much. Far too much. You aren't his, and he knows this. He never wanted you to be his, in fact, for the longest time, he had wanted to be anything but yours.
But now he sits beneath you, crestfallen, heart in his throat, blocking him from speaking.
This was never part of the plan. He was never supposed to end up here. He was supposed to escape from the trenches, to get on the path of straight and narrow. Thrive. Succeed.
And it's not your fault, he knows this, but there's a little part of him that wonders what could have happened if he hadn't seen you that night in Daerim, hadn't seen the way your eyes look beneath night market lights, hadn't heard your laugh as he looked at his favourite view of the city.
You whisper his name, your palm resting flat on his chest, and his brows soften.
It doesn't matter what could have happened, anymore.
All that matters is what is happening.
The shortness of his breath, the flutter of his lashes against your cheek, the swelling between his legs. You can feel it, feel him, and he knows it. The way he's pulsing his hips upwards is testament to that.
It's a comfortable position, you sat on his lap on the end of your bed, not one that either of you wishes to break from. Not even as he begins to breathe against your lips, unable to properly control his reactions thanks to the friction beneath his briefs.
"Want you," he mumbles, pressing his lips into yours, the air in his lungs giving itself up to you. "Want you so bad."
You shake your head, brows pinched just a little. "I'm bad news for you."
And maybe that's it. Maybe he just wants you because he knows he shouldn't - but fuck it, if he can't let himself indulge in simple pleasures, then why bother getting himself beaten to a pulp over you?
"I'm bad news for myself, sugar," he husks against your lips, tickling them as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Deeper, deeper. Closer, closer. He wants it.
Wants it all.
Wants you naked.
Wants to know what it feels like to have you gasp in his ear as his hands roam beneath your panties.
Wants to know if you'd still look at him like you're stargazing even when he's railing you.
Wants it. Wants you. Just wants.
And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets.
He slips his hand up your shirt and pushes it upwards, before letting it crumple to the floor. You know that you should be more bashful, a little bit ashamed, but it's impossible when he's looking at you like this.
He has a visual now that he didn't have earlier. The glow of your skin beneath his bruised knuckles looks almost sinful, like he's plucking forbidden fruit from its tree. He'll pay the price for this, and he knows it, but he just can't resist.
Jungkook has always been a boob guy, always loved the way he could get girls moaning with just a little pinch, but never had he had a pair quite like yours. So full, so round, he's not sure his hands are big enough, and that doubt makes him throb. Soft and pillowy, he groans as he watches his fingers sink into them, utterly enthralled. His hips adjust, pushing upwards, pressing himself into you. He wants this. Wants it so bad.
You can feel the metal of his rings against your skin, and then you can feel his lips, his tongue, his teeth as they graze against the plush skin of your chest. He licks around your nipple, letting the air cool the wet trail, hardening you for him.
He's utterly obsessed.
His mouth pulls at the sensitive skin, suckles, sucks. His lashes are splayed on the tops of his cheeks, lips pouting around your nipple as he does so, small groans of pleasure vibrating against you. It will be a miracle if he can't already feel you seeping through your panties.
You whimper as his teeth graze your hardened nub, and his eyes flutter open. He doesn't detach himself, but instead, he keeps your gaze as he sucks. The pressure varies, and then it's hard. Really fucking hard. So hard you'll think he'll somehow give your nipple a hickey - but fuck, if you don't love the sensation.
"Christ," you gasp, before biting down into your bottom lip.
"Too hard?" He mumbles against you, peppering you in kisses and soft licks as if to apologise.
"No," you pant. "Was good. Was great. Just - fuck."
You laugh, soft and airy, and Jungkook smiles from the sound.
He likes this. Likes how you react to him.
And while he’s patient and gentle with you in a way that he isn't with other people, Jungkook has only ever known how to have sex in one way. It's ingrained into him, as if he was made to fuck like it; like he doesn't give a shit about the person he's screwing.
Jungkook doesn't do love, and you know this. He trades. Works in transactions. Settles debts. You don't really know this part, but you aren't stupid. You know he's never in Daerim for any good fucking reason.
You don't question it as his hands move south, slipping past your underwear. In fact, you're smug as he curses when he feels how wet you are, fingers slippery in your panties.
He pushes a finger into you, and closely follows it with a second. They curl ever so slightly, and it's at this point that you realise Jungkook is absolutely going to ruin you. Just a few pumps. Just to ease you up.
He's bored of waiting. Wants you now.
The pair of you move fluidly, minimal discussion needed, just occasional checks of 'you good?', or 'this okay?'. The answer is, always, without a doubt, 'yes'.
He gets you on your back, panties pulled off, legs not quite hanging off the edge of your bed, but nearly. He strips himself of his shirt first, and grins as he notices the way you whine.
"What?" he toys.
"Nothing," you flirt. "Just wish you'd hurry up. I'm a busy woman."
"Oh yeah?" The sound of his buckle coming undone is enough to make you fucking leak. "Busy doing what?"
You neglect to tell him. Not because you don't have a witty remark lined up, but because he's fucking naked now.
What a sight to behold he is. Body lean, honey skin flawless, muscles defined. You pretend like you're looking at his body, but your eyes are drawn to his cock. You'd expected length, but not the girth - and he has both in abundance. The tip of his cock is blushed and wet, with Jungkook just as aroused as you are.
Noticing your gaze, he rolls his eyes, and toys with your pussy again, lightly running his fingers up and down your slick entrance. When he pulls back, his fingers are still connected by thick clear fluid. His cock throbs.
"You're gonna get me so dirty," he hums, as he crawls onto the bed above you, before holding his fingers to your mouth. "Clean them."
Part of you wants to say no, but the other part of you can see his darkened gaze and the way his cock is twitching. You can't refuse.
His fingers are on the tip of your tongue, the tip of his cock nudging so close to your entrance that he may as well just do it. You raise your hips, encouraging, but he retracts a little just to tease.
The fingers that were in your mouth come to grip at the soft flesh of your cheeks, his thumb on the other side. "Don't you fucking dare."
There's tepid aggression to his movements, and it makes you feel vulnerable - but you like it. You like the way he's gripping your face, the ways he's looking at you with narrow eyes, just like he used to do across the lecture hall. You like being reminded of when you were nothing to one another, because it makes the satisfaction of feeling his stiff cock jump a little against your pussy as you moan so much more worth it.
He used to hate you, now he can't wait to bury his fat cock in you. Victory is yours, even if he's trying to act like he's the one holding all the cards.
You don't correct him, though. You let him think he has the upper hand. You'll play pillow princess just this once if it means you get to see him a little bit mean again.
"Dare what?" you pout, cheeks still squished between his fingers. He grips a little tighter, your chest rising as you gasp. He pulls your face towards his, sinking down into your lips, until he decided he's done with you.
He stands by the edge of your bed, and yanks your ankles towards him, pulling you close enough to the edge for him to fuck you like this.
The loss of his grip is unwelcome by you, a frown forming. He isn't looking at your face now, eyes down on his cock, which he's rubbing between your soaked pussy lips, but he can almost hear you brace yourself to whine. He smirks, one side of his mouth lifting, head knocking to the side slightly.
"Don't you dare try and set the pace," he finally husks, still not glancing up towards you. He's taking his time, making sure the head of his cock kisses every inch of your exposed mess. "Nearly got my nose fucking broken for this pussy-" he spits, hard and fast, right onto your clit, spreading it with his cock. "- so I'm gonna make sure I get what I'm owed."
He spreads your thighs back, his fingers gripping harshly just how you like it. Perhaps you should pretend to be embarrassed by the fact your cunt is leaking for him, begging for him, but the way he hisses at the sight, chest heaving, prevents it.
Jungkook's thought about this before, about how pretty and pristine you'd be, about the mess he'd hoped you'd make. Thought about it so many times. Fingers wrapped around his shaft in the middle of the night when no one can hear him chant your name as he spills over. Yeah, he's thought about it a lot.
His imagination has never done you justice. One look and he's obsessed. Wants to spend hours touching, caressing, licking you.
"Take it," you whisper. "What you're owed, Jungkook. Take it."
He looks up now, brows threaded together. You don't recognise the contemplation his face is laced in, but he doesn't give you the chance to question it, for you begin to feel that burn. The one your fingers can never give you. It's alien, and yet familiar, inherently natural but intrusive nonetheless.
"Shit," is all you can manage to say, eyes locked on his.
He wants to watch himself sink into you, watch as his fat cock forces your slick wetness out of your pussy, but he can't. Not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your chest is heaving and your eyes are watering beneath tense brows. Not when your mouth is hanging open and just begging to be fucked like your tight little pussy.
And then he starts feeling something a little strange. A little unfamiliar. A little bit like his heart has stalled to beat in time with the contractions of your chest. And though he's not in pain anymore, too busy feeling you, he's aware that it hurts. Aware that he can't fuck you like he wanted to, 'cause his chest needs to be against yours. Needs to feel the beating drum beneath your ribs.
He doesn't even realise that he's paused until you whine a meagre, "please."
"That's more like it," he hums, as he pushes into you, the base of his thick cock plugging the weeping mess that he's made. You know that as soon as he pulls out, you'll be whimpering, begging for the tip of his cock to kiss your walls once more. "See how nice things can be when you just behave yourself, huh?"
His hips push just a little deeper, and he knows that it hurts. Knows that the little gasp isn't entirely from pleasure. He's seen his cock. Doesn't take a genius to work out that it can do damage.
"You can take it," he tells you, and like a pathetic, whimpering mess, you fucking nod. He's still inside of you, still deeper than you thought possible, and then his hand is on your stomach. He grabs your hand and places it beneath his. "You feel that?" He retracts just a little, pushing back in just as deep. Beneath your hands, there's a bulge. External or internal, it doesn’t matter. It's him. He does it again. "You feel me taking what's mine?"
Whatever the fuck you moan is incoherent, but he doesn't give a shit, 'cause he's ploughing now. Bucking his hips into you like pneumatic fucking drill. Shit. He's done this before. Got it mastered to a fine art. Momenta worthy of a museum exhibition.
Your tits are pillowed on your chest, nice and round, wobbling as he takes command of your body. He slaps one of them, just to watch it ripple, before that firm grip of his is on it. "Perfect tits," he growls the compliment, not really meaning for it to come out. "Gonna put my cock between them later," he tells you. "Gonna cum all over them."
He doesn't tell you that he'll also clean them with his hungry tongue, before delivering his cum into your mouth. Figures he'll just let you find out. His brain is working at a mile a minute, trying to reign back thoughts of sharing his cum with you in such a filthy manner. God, he wants to do heinous things to you. With you. For you.
But for now, he needs to focus on his cock. It's rubbing inside of you, nuzzling. He knows he's weeping, and that his precum is getting mixed with your slick juices. Knows he won't last long if you keep whining like that. Mewling. Purring.
He stalls his hips, letting go of your tits as they jiggle back into position. Your cheeks are flushed, imprints of his fingers reddening your skin. Lips pouted and resting ajar, Jungkook thinks they've never looked more fuckable. More kissable. More whisper-sweet-nothings-against-able.
"You ever shut the fuck up?" he teases, but is quick to notice confusion flash in your eyes. He didn't mean it as an insult, but it's easy to read the hurt in your perplexed features, and the way you begin to try and push your legs together. It's futile. His cock is keeping you open.
But you feel embarrassed, as if your natural reactions to him are a turn-off. It's silly, because he's quite literally inside of you, fat and solid, using you to milk himself. Of course, he's not turned off, but you're hyper-aware of how vulnerable you're feeling right now. It had been fun to pretend like you were in control, but as soon as he slipped inside of you, all sense of power had evaporated.
He doesn't realise this though. Doesn't realise that his cock is nudging so deep into you that it's practically knocking against your heart. Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? Your mind taunts, but you daren't answer.
"Hey," he coos, one of his large palms stroking on the inside of your thighs. That uncomfortable, obscure feeling is back again. The one that tells him he needs to be closer to you. This time, he doesn't ignore it. His hips pulse, just the once. A reminder he's still very much into this. Into you.
His hands grip your waist, softly this time, as he manoeuvres himself onto the bed with you, keeping himself snug. Your head is by the pillows, Jungkook's knees on either side of your ass, his chest flat against yours as one of his hands cradles your jaw. He presses a chaste, airy kiss against your lips, and whispers, "I love the way you sound." He kisses you again, hips rocking. You're trying not to, but you whine. "Fuck, sugar. You're my favourite fucking sound."
Your legs hook over his back, and he groans now. The angle change lets him delve deeper, your walls massaging him so well. Jungkook thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He's slipping in and out of you with minimal force, skin slapping together. He makes sure to let his moans roll off his tongue and into your mouth. You eat them up and give them back. The pair of you aren't kissing anymore, just gasping and humming into one another's mouths. He's stuttering.
There's a pause as he adjusts his grip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs. He likes it, the way you seem to melt around him in all capacities. His lips nudge against yours as his steady hips begin to rock into yours again.
You groan as he pushes down on your legs, pushing you as far apart as your bones allow. It's typical of him, seeing how far he can take things. Push them to the limit. Always gets him in trouble. There's a click, as air escapes from the socket where your leg meets your pelvis.
"You good?" He checks and you respond with a kiss. Hands tangled in his hair, you hope it conveys the fact you've never felt better. He laughs a little, soft and serene, into your mouth, the weight of his body keeping you trapped beneath him.
You're morbid in your thoughts, and consider how nice it would be for Jungkook to suffocate you like this; steal you of the air you breathe with his tiny giggles of satisfaction. So, so nice, you think.
And so you tell him. You tell him that you want his hand on your throat. He takes a second to respond - not because he doesn't want to, but more so because he can't believe you actually asked.
He doesn't normally fuck the girls he cares about like this. Then again, he never really cares about the girls he fucks.
"God," you moan as he pushes one of your legs over his shoulder. His body is clammy against yours, skin hot and damp, chest lean but built. He's working hard; not just for his release. For yours too. Rams into you, stuffing your cunt with his cock, dipping his head to lather your clasped throat in wet kisses.
"That's it, sugar," he growls as his teeth graze your neck. "Need to hear how good you feel. Need to hear what my cock does to you. You owe me."
You want to laugh. You're about to laugh. But then his head dips down to your chest, and he latches onto one of your pebbled nipples, sucking so hard that all you can do is tremble. He knows you like this. Knows it makes your pussy all creamy and slippery for him - and like clockwork, he's proven right. The sounds are lewd. He loves it.
"On your back," you husk, punctuating your instruction with a whimper as he suckles even harder. He shakes his head, eyes closed, mouth vibrating and full of your tit. Not a chance, he tries to say, but it just sounds likes he's forgotten how to speak. Too busy. Too close to spilling himself into you. Doesn't wanna get distracted.
So focused, he doesn't realise you're pushing him over until you're on top. He frowns as he detaches from your nipple with a pop, but his hands are running all over your body regardless. Obviously doesn't care that much. Course he doesn't. That ache in his chest has settled.
Until he starts thinking about it, and oh god, it's back and it's fucking unbearable.
"C'mere," he pulls you flush against him, as your hips begin to work against him. His hands cradle your face so he can kiss you as deeply as he likes, tongue slipping into your mouth, as his cock slips up and down your pussy. This, he thinks, is it. This is what fucking should feel like.
"Shit," he whispers. "Shit."
The friction of his surprisingly neat hair that rests at the base of his cock is nice. Real fuckin' nice. You're not even fucking him anymore, just grinding against it. Using it, using him, to get yourself off.
You think you're being slick, like he won't notice - but he does. Of course, he does. He's obsessed with your body.
"God, yeah, baby," his back arches, pressing his chest against yours, eyes closed. "Use me like that. Use me," he bites into your shoulder gently. "Fucking use me."
He means it. Doesn't give a shit about himself anymore. Just wants to feel you tremble as he holds you close. Wants to press kisses against your lips as your moans become undignified. He needs to be the reason you cum; needs to be responsible for your oxytocin rush.
You sit up a little, and Jungkook holds back a pout from the separation - but how can he complain when you're sat like that, his cock buried inside of you, hair a mess and with eyes like his favourite constellation? He's hypnotised as your boobs begin to bounce, pussy working up his shaft like the true Daerim woman of the night you are. He's forgotten about all of that, now. Can't think about anything except for how to not fucking cum.
He can't and he won't. Not until you do. But you're bouncing, and it's wet, and he can hear it, and it feels so fuckin' good. His toes are curling, torso tensing, eyes half-shut, pretty little pout hanging open. He's fucking whining. "Yeah like that," he encourages. "Gonna milk me so well, baby. Gonna... ah. Fuck. Gonna-"
Jungkook can't fucking speak. He wants to. Wants to tell you how fucking beautiful you look, how he wants this endlessly, how he never wants to let you go. Needs to tell you how right this feels, how good you make him feel, how he doesn't understand his feelings but fuck, just that he is feeling. Feeling so much.
You're not sure at which point he started calling you baby, but you're actually convinced that the name alone could tip you over the edge.
The pace of your hips is slowly, savouring. He doesn't quite get it. You were so close. Why stop?
The stillness of your movements makes way for something new. He feels a throb around his fat cock, which is begging for release. Notices the way your chest is shaking like you've got hiccups, tiny whines of pleasure making themselves known. Your pussy was always warm, but it's hot now, contracting around him.
And then he gets it.
"Oh, shit," he mewls, his hips slowly pumping upwards. "Yeah, that's it, baby. Let yourself cum. All over my dick," he encourages, hedonistic and self-serving. "That's it. Cream for me."
His slow movements as he fucks up into you amplify the sensation, the tip of his cock nudging languidly against your tight walls. Your entire body shudders, the feeling rippling from your chest right down to your toes. You rasp out moans, the sensation all too powerful, a creamy mess pooling at the base of his shaft. There's a jerk as your muscles spasm, your orgasm well and truly delivered. He pulls you down and into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your back.
Your body rests on his, spent and sensitive, and he can tell you can't hold out for much longer. He pushes back the hair that's sticking to your clammy face, and presses kisses into your temple.
"So big," you hum, voice hazy, eyes shut.
"Just a little more, baby," he promises. " You're doing so well. Just a little..."
You've considered how Jungkook would orgasm on more than one occasion - and you're pleasantly surprised to find that your imagination was wrong. There's no grand declaration, nor large grunt. He's not aggressive, either, like you'd half-hoped he would be.
Instead, Jungkook kisses you as his hips begin to stall. His brows are creased, moans muffled against your lips. His torso shudders, abdomen as tight as his balls. "Baby," he drowsily mewls, and then it's happening. His cock pumps into you, unloading thick creamy spurts with every stroke of your pussy. The first one is so desperate that you're almost positive you can feel it paint your insides. You moan along with him, utterly obsessed with this, him, whatever the fuck just happened.
He doesn't withdraw immediately. Just lays there and kisses your skin, absolutely spent.
You don't move a muscle. You don't want it to be over. Don't wanna lose this. Lose him.
When you tilt your head to look at him, he's smiling. Eyes closed, cheeks appled. Serene. In a state of fucked-out bliss.
You tell him that he's pretty, and he lets out an airy laugh, covering his face with one of his hands. You move his hand and watch him fondly, enthralled with the grin that he's struggling to fight.
He turns to look at you, and the smile he's been boasting amplifies. "God, you're gorgeous."
It's not a new observation; just one he's never voiced before. One that he was able to resist saying. But you're naked now, chest pillowed against his, eyes glowing and nose blushed.
You hum, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I'm glad you chose to come here."
Just like that, there's a knot in Jungkook's stomach that seems to anchor that feeling he keeps having.
"Yeah," he nods. "Me too."
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IT'S THREE IN the afternoon by the time you wake from your post-fuck snooze. Jungkook's never had one of those before. Hated being sticky after sex with anyone else. Always had to shower - but with you, he wants to stick to you like glue.
"Should have filmed that," he hums, the tips of his fingers stroking up your arms. You aren't sure if he's joking or not. "Would have given us a unique take on the project. Probably wouldn't have gotten us very high grades, mind you, but art is subjective."
"Some would argue that the critique of art is objective," you muse back, still blissfully cum-drunk from the events prior to your nap. Jungkook's nose has stopped bleeding, and the pair of you have almost forgotten the reason he showed up in the first place. "Documentary maker by night, porn star by day," you flirt. "Although it's cute that you think you fuck like a porn star."
"I felt you shaking," he says, knowing there's no possible way that you didn't enjoy it. His nose feels a little cold after all the trauma of the morning, so he buries it into your hair. "Can't fake that."
"That's what I'm saying," you simper, pressing a kiss against his bare torso, just below the meeting of his collarbones. And then another, simply for good measure. "Porn stars never actually look like they're making the woman feel any good." You trail down his chest, tongue licking gently at the darker skin around his nipple. "You... yeah you don't fuck like a porn star." And then you suck a little. He hisses, in the best possible way. 
"Don't," he says. "Not ready to go again."
You laugh. 
Jungkook thinks he's reached Nirvana. Almost certain, in fact. Never had a girl do that to him before. He loves to give it, but hasn't ever thought to receive it. Wonders what other things you'll do to him that he's never had done before. He can feel his cock fucking twitching again, achy and sore, definitely not recovered yet from how hard he went earlier - but god, he wants it. Wants to bury himself inside you again. Belong to you.
His hands paw at you, one gripping on your chest, the other on your ass, pulling you closer. Your leg hooks over him, and he can feel how wet you still are on the side of his thigh. His balls fucking tighten. He can feel it happening, blood rushing to his crotch. 
Yet despite it all, he just kisses you. Softly. Tenderly. Merely his lips languid between yours. Withdraws slowly. Keeps his eyes closed. Bliss.
"The fuck have you done to me, sugar?" he whispers, dark eyes opening to look into yours. His speech is husky, like he trying to steal the answers of a pop-quiz from you. You can't help him. You don't have a clue what the answer is. You're just as stuck as he is. "Got me feeling all fuzzy 'n' shit."
"Just a sugar rush," you smile. "It'll pass."
You're both acutely aware that it won't, but that will be a problem for another day.
"Tell you what," Jungkook muses, though his thoughts are shallow. He's not digging deep. Just talking for the sake of it. "I might not fuck like a porn star, but you don't fuck like a hooker." 
He pulls your arm up so that he can study the crease of your elbow. You let him move your body like you're a barbie doll. You'll be his toy, you think, if he wants. No bother. 
His fingers press at the thin skin that covers your veins, inspecting. 
"Not a scratch," he assesses. "So you're not an addict either."
You laugh, slightly amused. "No? Maybe I just don't inject."
Jungkook gives you a stern look. Hopes you're joking. Tells you that you better fucking be joking. The sweetness of your laughter tells him that you are.
"So?" you press. "I'm not a prostitute and I'm not an addict. It's your lucky day. What of it?"
Jungkook tilts his head down so that his nose is nestled into the crown of your head again. Comforting, he thinks. Smells like laundry. You must have washed your sheets recently. 
His next statement takes you off guard. 
"Only ever see three kinds of women down in Daerim." 
And you know.
You know he knows. 
You can feel it in the way he protectively presses his lips into your skull, as if he's Prince Charming trying to rid his Sleeping Beauty of the nightmare she's been living. Wake up.
But Prince Charming rides a white horse, not a petrol-spitting, air-cooled, steel-framed shadow that rips through the city at night. 
There are no nightmares, either. You're already wide awake. There's no saving you. 
He sighs against your head. Pauses. Resists, and then confronts. 
"I know what you do in the dark, sugar."
You don't say anything for a moment, and then you're pulling away from him, reaching for your shirt. He doesn't like this. Misses your warmth, but doesn't stop you. Instead, he follows, sitting on the edge of your bed, the corner of your comforter lazily protecting his modesty. His muscles are relaxed now, a little crease in his stomach from the way that he's slouching, hands in his lap. Those Bambi eyes of his are peaking through his hair, cheeks red and grazed from the morning encounter he'd had in Daerim.
He watches as you pull your shirt over your head, hair just as messy as his, and a graze on your cheek to match. He was pretty certain before that it had been carpet burn, but now that he's seen it up close, softly rubbed his thumb against it during pretty kisses, he's sure of it.
You avert his gaze. Feel shameful. Hate that he knows. You never cared before. It was just a fun little secret, the fact that he didn't know you were no angel. 
But you want him to think that you're one, now. 
For a moment, you were sure that he had. 
Instead, now, it feels like you're falling from grace.
He reaches for your hand, but you pull it back. "Please don't."
And so he doesn't. Just sits for a little while instead. "Do you want me to get dressed?"
You really don't. 
But your tongue is lodged in your mouth and it won't budge. You turn away, internally furious with yourself. It's been a while since you've gotten like this; so dreadfully panicked that you can't talk. It's a once in a blue moon kind of thing, the early onset of a panic attack, but you're hoping it won't reach the stage of no return. Praying.
"Babe?"
He sounds worried now, and it's making it worse. Feels like you've just reached the top of Bukhan Mountain without taking a second to catch your breath. 
Has your chest always been this tight? Or has someone just been wrapping rubber bands around your torso without you noticing? 
It isn't possible, and you know this, but it feels like it and - oh God - you can hear him shuffling, the buckle of his belt clanging. He's leaving, he's leaving, he's leaving, your ribs cackle as they close down on your lungs. 
There's a light hum behind you, like a wasp is coming to send you into a state of anaphylactic shock and then it stops. His jeans are tossed to the floor once more.
"Yoongi?" Jungkook speaks quietly behind you into the receiver of his phone. "Wassu- Yeah, yeah, I'm safe. I'm good."
I'm safe. 
I'm good.
"Where are- Yoongi stop. Stop it. I'm being deadly fucking serious-"
You don't realise it, but your chest begins to mellow as you listen in to his conversation. 
"It's my mess!" He shouts now. "I'll fucking fix it. I don't give a fuck what Hobi says. Where you at? The Zoo? I'll be there- Yes, I will. Don't do anything fucking stupid."
And then he hangs up, chucking his phone into your bed with more aggression than he'd ever wanted to show in your presence. You don't see it, back still turned, but you hear it, the way his phone rebounds against the springs of your mattress.
"Shit," he hisses, and when you turn to face him, you find that his head is in his hands, elbows on his knees.
Crouching by him, your chest expands. You don't give a shit about yourself anymore. Your palms rest just behind his elbows, eyes anchored below his, looking up. 
"He's got his fucking final in an hour," is all Jungkook says. "He's gonna miss his fucking final."
He lifts his head, tender lips pouted, eyes bloodshot from the pressure he's been placing on his palms. Looks right at you. Decides he'll never trust another pair of eyes more.
"I know what you do in the dark, sugar," he relays. "But I do worse. So much fucking worse. And I've just gone and fucked it all up."
And while he blames it all on himself, you know it's your fault. 
He didn't stay away from the girl. He tempted fate, tugged on the red string, and accidentally snapped it.
Forlorn, he slumps, tongue wetting his bottom lip as he bites down on it. It's only to stop it from trembling. Clouds lurk in his eyes, trying to block his vulnerabilities from you, but it doesn't take a genius to work out that he's scared. 
"Take it," you say, lips in a flat line, eyes stern. You nod towards the pile of cash on your desk, and his eyes follow. "Take it. Pay your debts. I can earn it again. I don't have a deadline. You do."
He shakes his head.
"I'm not taking the money you've earned."
"Yes, you are."
"I'm not," he protests and you've got it in your right mind to slap his pretty face silly. "Gonna be totally honest," he adds, "Don't really want your sugar baby money. Kinda resent it a little. Resent the fucker who gave it to you."
Jungkook hates him. 
Doesn't know him.
Loathes him.
"So then give him the middle finger and take it," you plead. "He got you fucked up into this mess, he got you jumped, he got your stash stolen. Take his money and get yourself and Yoongi out of it. You don't have time to be fucking arguing with me."
He wants to fight back. You stop him.
"We can argue later," you promise.
And that ever-present effervescent feeling is back in his chest. 
"Sugar," he speaks quietly. "Don't do this."
"Kook," you respond, voice much firmer than his. "You gotta do this. Yoongi shouldn't be fixing your mistakes and you know it. We can work it out on an I.O.U. basis. It's okay."
"I.O.U. suggests I'm gonna keep seeing you for a while," Jungkook mumbles. He isn't feeling as confident in himself as he had done earlier. 
You stand, offering your hand to him so that you can pull him up with you. Neither of you acknowledge the fact that he's stark bollock naked. It's really not the time. Nothing you haven't seen before, after all.
"Well, yeah," you shrug with a straight face, but there's a glint in your eye. "I'd hope so. Pretty sure you said you were fuck my tits later? Gotta hold up your end of the bargain, sugar."
And despite it all, he laughs, toying with your hands before slipping his finger between yours. "Don't call me that."
"Why not?" You squeeze his hands. "You're technically my sugar baby now."
"That's not how it works."
God, he knows he shouldn't be fucking about, wasting time flirting, but he just can't help himself.
"No?" You question, equally distracted.
"No," he says. "If you're paying me, and I'm fucking you, then that makes me a hooker."
He's not wrong. 
"Oh, that's kinda hot," you smile, pulling gently on his hands to encourage him to lean down. He does as he's told, and kisses you like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"You're so fucked up," he whispers against you, knowing that it's exactly why he enjoys you so much.
You don't let the moment linger, though, tossing him his clothes and going to grab the money while he dresses himself. You stack it together, all nice and neat, using the desk to straighten the edges. The wedge is thick in your hands. Yellow 50's are laughing at you. Stupid girl thought we'd fix her problems, they chatter silently to one another.
"Three and half million won," you hold it out to Jungkook. He hesitates, so you force his grip around it and let go. It's his problem, now. Not yours. You smile so warmly that Jungkook can't help but let that feeling in his chest simmer. Your hair is still messy, mascara still smudged. He wants to kiss your cheeks. 
Jungkook hasn't disclosed what exactly was in his bag.
But in the same way he knows there are only three types of women in Daerim, you know there are equally only three types of men.
There's only one demographic that he belongs to. Yoongi, too. 
You don't say it explicitly, not like he does. 
"Holangi are nasty fuckers," you acknowledge. "I know they raise the stakes just for the fun of it. Whatever got stolen, the street value doesn't matter. Take it all. You'll need it."
Take what I owe you.
When he kisses you goodbye, it's just like the first time; all breathy and needy, lips parted and pouting. Again and again, he presses down into your lips. His brows furrow, hands on your cheeks, chest pressed against yours.
The crimson paint that had stained you from his very first kiss returns. You're painted in red for the second time that morning, but this time only you can see it. Only you can feel it.
That's her. That's the girl who let Jeon Jungkook kiss her like he actually meant it. 
But it's funny now, because you know that he does mean it.
When he finally leaves, his nose is blushed, his cupids bow too. Eyes glassy. Smile forlorn.  
Disappointingly, as you close the door of your apartment when he's no longer in your line of sight, you remember exactly how Jungkook had kissed you for the first time:
Like it was going to be the last.
And it consumes you, because the kiss you just shared felt exactly the same.
Your chest is uncomfortable again, but it's not rubber bands this time. 
It's that stupid red string that Jungkook had tugged too tightly on.
The one that he'd snapped right in half. 
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WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD
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ozzgin · 5 months
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Yandere! Gamer Boyfriend Scenarios
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A collection of parodies to satisfy everyone’s desire for a happy ending. Warning: crackhead humor.
Content: gender neutral reader, yandere behavior, brief NSFW, time machine to Wattpad glory days
[First story] [More parodies original works]
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Case 1: Third contender
Very few people know about your stepmother. You’d kept it a secret, even from the tentacle monster, who was understandably confused about your boyfriend’s nervousness upon hearing your idea of a family visit.
“Try not to kill each other, please.” You say with pleading eyes.
“I’m more worried about you, (Y/N). Will you be alright?”
You swallow dryly. The evil hag had summoned you earlier this week, and you dare not oppose her. A tear threatens to form in the corner of your eye, so you turn around with a dismissive wave. You’ll be fine.
“I see you already have a suitcase”, the older woman remarks, puffing on her cigarette. “Good. You’ll be leaving today.”
“What? I just got home!” You argue in confusion.
“This isn’t your home anymore. Times are difficult, you see. We’re low on funds.” She ponders her words, then continues. “We’ve sold you to a famous K-pop idol group.”
You can only gawk in shock. Almost simultaneously, you feel a tap on your shoulder and hesitantly look back.
“You must be (Y/N)! Wow, you’re even cuter in person. Those photos I received of you barely do you justice.”
A tall, handsome man with a beaming smile stands behind you. He flashes you a little heart gesture with his index and thumb, and winks.
Is this the power of idol charisma? You can feel the faintest tug at your heart, deep red blush heating up your cheeks.
“I couldn’t possibly…I’m already in a…in a relationship!”
“You’ll be much happier with me. I can offer you the world.”
What a ridiculous situation. You stumble on your words, partly afraid, partly curious about the potential life of luxury as the beloved partner of a famous idol. Can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. You shake your head aggressively. No! You have two people (well, one monster) waiting for you at home. You need to get out of here, but how?
Just as you evaluate escape routes, the door bursts open and you gasp at the sight: your gamer boyfriend, followed by the tentacled creature.
“How did you bypass my security?!” The idol shouts in disbelief. “I have the best engineers in the world working for me!”
The gamer boyfriend smirks defiantly.
“Heh. Wasn’t too hard to hack into your systems, all I needed was my PS5 controller. As for the physical obstacles…” he says, turning to the ancient beast. “You might want to call a cleaning crew for what’s left of your guards.”
You run towards them, and the young man gently guides you behind him.
“Since when do you two get along?” You ask with the sarcasm of a witty Marvel character.
“Let’s just say we figured out a common goal.”
The goal of keeping other people away from you. Any kind of pride he or the monster might've held has been swiftly discarded for this greater purpose. After all, two heads are better than one. Or whatever encephalic organ the creature possesses.
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The cherry blossoms sway in the wind, scattering the frail petals across the riverbank.
"It's too much!" you whine, your hot lips brushing against the overgrown grass of the hill, privacy filled to the brim with appendages. "W-what if someone passes by?"
You can't even tilt your head back to look at your aggressors; the weight of the attempted kidnapping was too great for the pair to bear, and thus they were overwhelmed by the urge to reclaim you on the spot. Right there, in the fields, on the way back home.
"I couldn't...care less about that, (Y/N)", the gamer boyfriend manages to blurt out between exhausted, husky growls. His knuckles white from gripping imaginary sheets.
“You belong to us.”
(No slick folds were harmed in the process)
Case 2: Picture frame
The screech slowly dissipates, and the room is quiet again.
Finally. The gamer boyfriend gazes at his masterpiece, a satisfied smile on his face. Now that he's gotten rid of his rival, he can have you all for himself.
“I hope you enjoy the flatness. I didn’t.”
The fight might've lasted longer, had the beast not committed the ultimately fatal mistake of underestimating him. It realized much too late it wasn't dealing with the same human who disappeared months ago. That one was weak and easy to remove.
"Please, what are you-...What are you doing with my body?"
"Relax. I'm just...borrowing it. Permanently, maybe."
Oh, how long he waited for that moment, that instant in which he was guaranteed freedom from the 2D realm. How delicious it was to snatch the escape from the boyfriend who worked so hard for it. All those hours spent romancing the characters, repeating the same dialogue lines again, and again, until the love meter blinked in achievement. And then he stole it, just like that, with a snap of the fingers.
Two things immediately struck him once he made his way out:
First, the third dimension. He'd never experienced such depth before, and all the angles and perspectives sickened him terribly. He spent days bedridden and nauseous. Equally baffling was the fact that conversations were always spontaneous, random, one-of-a-kind and without any subtitles or dialogue box. He tried in vain to reset his response to you, or to replay something you told him. Thankfully, his secret was of such absurdity, that you couldn’t even begin to imagine its possibility. You took his suspicious gaffes with an amused chuckle, calling him a silly goose.
Second, you. He had no idea who you were, but upon laying his eyes on you, a wave of warmth and affection flooded his innards. Were you someone important for the boyfriend? Either way, whatever leftover feeling was left inside the vessel swiftly turned into obsession. You took such great care of him. Guided him through this new world with unconditional kindness. Whatever the boyfriend was to you before, he deserved it more. He was certain of it.
Only one obstacle stood in his way, and he just took care of it.
The entry door unlocks, and you walk in, unsure.
“It’s been days. It always lived here, why would it vanish now?” you sob, shaken by the sudden disappearance of the ancient creature.
“Oh, Darling. Come here”, the gamer boyfriend coos sweetly. “You have me now, don’t you? Am I not enough for you?”
“Of course you are, it’s just…”
You stop in your tracks.
“When did you get this?”
“Today. Do you like it?”
“It’s…nice.”
You stare at the new picture hung in the living room. The ornate frame contours what seems to be an oil painting of a sea monster, tentacles preying out of the water.
It almost looks like it wants to crawl out of the canvas.
“Maybe it just got tired of you.” The boyfriend whistles, approaching you. “But I’ll tell you a secret. I’ll never, ever abandon you.”
“I know, (B/N).” you throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms.
“Who? Ah, right.”
Case 3: Hidden Ending
You sniff and wipe your tears again, filling your satchel with bread. At the very least, it’s good bread. You made the sourdough starter yourself, in the kitchen you renovated with your own hands.
Not anymore.
You button up your patchy peasant robe, glancing back at the couple one final time. Your gamer boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend, is following your movement with melancholic eyes. The tentacle creature is holding him affectionately, its tendrils of darkness wrapped around his small shoulders. The same appendages that lewdly traced your body.
You have been cucked.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I…We never meant to hurt you. It’s just…we love each other.” He sheepishly lifts his hand, revealing a ring glowing with ancient, cursed energy of cosmic, long-forgotten springs. “We’re thinking of a tropical honeymoon.”
Your underbaked cinnamon orbs glisten with fresh tears, as thin streams caress your cheeks. No matter. You’ll find a new apartment. You’ll start again. You finish tying the bread satchel around the stick, and throw it over your shoulder.
“I wish you happiness”, you sigh, exiting the house.
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donutz · 7 months
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Yandere Smiling Critters x male child reader[pt. 2]
Requests from Tumblr and Wattpad—!, but not really
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(Minus the fact I didn't include you being turned)
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—☆You are a human in this
Sadly, you couldn’t stay here forever.
You are home now. Adopted. You did spend your time at Playcare for a couple of years though, everybody knew you, everybody in Playcare that is. The critters and kids knew you, the staff knew you, Miss Delight knew you.
So you had a mark on the place when it was time for you to leave. To get your own house. You were happy to get a home, but sad you had to leave your friends behind.
Maybe you could revisit this place again. Come back. But you couldn’t.
Something happened.
8/8/1995
You don’t know what happened that day, but you guess it was something pretty bad. It caused the whole company to shut down. You no longer saw any commercials of the toys.
Rumors were spread around, maybe somebody died, maybe a toy hurt somebody, maybe.. Maybe an experiment happened.
Anyways. There was a letter. A letter in the mail, something that related to your old home. Find the flower?
.
.
.
Sure. Why not, you were seventeen, you can handle yourself.
Which is something you shouldn’t have ever thought, after what you’ve been through.
It’s been scary. You haven’t died yet, but death has wanted to shake your hand a few times.
You almost bumped your head on a metal pipe while passing through a dark hallway, nearly broke your leg because you wanted to jump off a platform, wanting things to go by faster.
You’ve been chased through vents, and ended up at a dead end. You didn’t know what to do. You almost got shredded. But, were spared.
“.. Huggy?” He stared at you, maybe he recognizes you, even after all these years.
He didn’t kill you. He let you down on the second level of the metal stairways with his arm, and went back to where he originally was.
Then you were solving puzzles, with a particular doll following after you.
But the doll got snatched up, by a spider. Mommy Long Legs. She did remember you, you were the one who wasn’t so good at the games..(for the sake of your life in this story)
But she thought you left her to die, so she still forced you to play the three games. The first game has Bunzo! He was hesitant to kill you, you were the kindest kid to him when you lived here.
And for the first time, you actually beat the game! He was so proud of you! He wasn’t proud of his unfortunate fate in the future, but at least he didn’t need to kill you.
Then the small Huggies. They also remembered you, so they were sparing you. You also beat that game! They were happy, letting out tiny purrs at your success.
Then Pj— Wait. Since when were you so good at these games? The last I checked, you failed every single one of them! Fine. I’ll just sabotage the game for you, to make sure you never leave.
You could see Pj coming out of his pug-a-pillar hole, and you were sweating a little. Hopefully he remembered you too.
He did, once he saw you he stopped in his crawling tracks, taking a pause. He missed your younger adorable face when he gave you a small bump on your back, signifying that the ‘game’ was over.
But he unpaused at the start of the music playing.
You escaped. Out of there. That’s fine. I could just chase you myself
Three chases. You got chased THREE times. How desperate was she to kill you?!
You were putting the blue hand on the scanner, when you heard Mommy’s quick steps towards you.
You looked behind you— Eyes widening from her abrupt appearance. For the fourth time.
The door opened! And.. Mommy got killed, by you, by your hands.
A hand crept out from the thin crevice of a metal door. It took Mommy’s left over body, to wherever. You didn’t know what it was. Where it took her. But thanked god(or not, depends on your thoughts) at the fact that you weren’t Mommy at this moment.
Now you are somewhere. The train crashed, and you could feel the back of your shirt being picked up. You were sliding down a pipe, into somewhere.
You don’t know where it was, but you needed to get out, fast.
Doing some parkour, you looked around, and saw a long tail(plus paws) crawling up inside a vent.
“... Catnap?”
You went through some doors, and ended up seeing where the crashed train was. Going somewhere, you could see the recognizable entrance you went to at age 5. The way to Playcare.
You could hear the sounds of steps. Hurrying up you went inside the much smaller train compared to the one you were originally in.
“My name is Elliot Ludwig.”
Hm. Those words you could remember.
“When you look around at the world today,” You repeated after him.
“what one thing do you think it needs more of?”
“Playcare!”
Even at seventeen years, you were still mesmerized by what was shown.
You looked down, and could see 3— no. Five creatures walking or crawling around, resembling the Smiling Critters.
“Oh.”
Some of the critters could hear Elliot’s voice continue about Playcare, eyeing the moving train.
They saw your shadowed figure. Not knowing who you were. But a light is shown on your face.
Bubba, Dogday, Kickin, Hoppy, and Bobby saw your face. You’re back?
No. They must be seeing things. You were gone. Away from them.
But Dogday could recognize those eyes. Your skin, your curiosity, your hair(if your hair changed colors, or texture after growing up, then.. Yea, he still remembered you).
“Angel?” (Even if you didn’t really save him, he’s going to call you Angel. Because I needed a nickname for you. Y’know, because I can’t list every single name of the people who’re reading this?)
The other critters heard his whisper. … Maybe it was you.
The train stopped. But you were kind of scared, were they like Huggy or Mommy? Were they going to chase you down?
“Ah shit.”
‘Language.’ Dogday thought, dogs have good hearing y’know!
You were trying to find a way for two possible outcomes of being down here.
A) Try to make the train go back if the critters try to kill you
Or
B) Somehow reminisce in meeting your old friends
B sounded a lot more better than A.
And.. B did happen!
The 5 critters went over to the train, while you were standing there. Waiting for whatever will happen to you.
Dogday crawled over to you, it was you! Your scent!
He gave you the biggest hug while his tail wagged(really fast, it’s kind of crazy).
He was still fluffy even after these 10 years.
“Angel I missed you so much—!”
You were trying to hug him back, but a little too scared because of the critters staring into your soul.
Dogday noticed their silence and spoke up—
“Guys! This is Angel!! You don’t recognize him??”
Silence.
“THE ONE WHO WAS HIDING BEHIND PICKY..??”
“OHH”
“YOU’RE BACK?!?”
“I was thinking that it was him but I wasn’t sure…”
“ANGEL!?!?!?”
You were escorted out of the train, and were greeted by a bunch of animals pawing at you.
You couldn’t get a word in!
Picky, Crafty and Catnap came over, hearing all of the excited animal noises.
Now you were crowded by a bunch of animals. You were so tiny compared to them, so they had to be gentle.
So much noises were going on that even the smaller critters came over to see the commotion.
You were back home!
Now you can’t leave.
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femmad · 9 months
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English is not my language, if there are errors, excuse me. If you don't feel comfortable reading you can stop. It's also my first time writing something like this.
This story can also be found in its original version in Spanish on my Wattpad account. Only here and on my Wattpad account have I published them. If another account publishes them, please notify me and report it.
"What do you want to do?"
Warning: +18. Mature content below, I am not responsible for any discomfort, I already gave a warning. Unedited.
I quietly enter the room after saying goodbye to Eun-Yu and Chan Young, promising to meet again soon. I notice how calm and ethereal Hyun-soo looks lying on the stretcher with his eyes closed and the sun bathing his skin. I approach at a slow pace trying not to break his bubble when he slowly opens his eyes, but unlike his beautiful dark eyes I find bright blue eyes.
- Hyun-soo... - he interrupts me before I can say anything.
- You know, he was very sad without you - he says with a thick voice - We were hoping to find you when he was saving that girl - his eyes watching me deeply, analyzing every detail - Did you change us for that idiot who came with you - he asks in mocking tone.
- I could never change you, he is just a friend, he helped us after everything that happened - I lower my head feeling nervous under his deep gaze.
- A friend doesn't see you as if he wants to eat you - he smiles maliciously - That's how I see you.
After a few minutes in silence I raise my head when I hear him move. He approaches slowly, circling around me, I feel like I am enclosed in these four walls, as if I have fallen into his trap, his gaze makes a shiver run through me from head to toe, which makes him smile. I see that his eyes are a little darker, so he looks like a predator and I am the prey.
- What are you doing? - I ask nervously, raising my head to be able to see him when he approaches me with his big height. He leans down to be in front of my face with that smile that doesn't mean anything good.
- I don't know - he whispers looking at my lips - What should we do? - he asks mockingly - What do you want to do?
We stare at each other for a moment until he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. His soft lips quickly dominate mine, I feel his hands running over my hips until he lifts my shirt, placing his rough hands on my waist. I gasp when he bites my lip to insert his tongue. I slowly bring my hands to his face, brushing away his hair.
- We shouldn't do this - I whisper between kisses, pushing him a little - Bring Hyun-soo back.
He separates from me with a mocking smile - He's resting but don't worry, he and I are one - his hand goes up to caress my left cheek - We've been waiting for this moment since the last time we took you - he caresses my lips before introduce his thumb, which I unconsciously suck. He tilts his head to the side with his eyes fixed on my lips - You can't imagine the things he wanted to do to you from the moment he saw you after so long.
He takes my neck, bringing our lips together again, gently but firmly pushes my body until it hits the stretcher attached to the wall. His hand on my neck goes down to take one of my breasts in his hand, he squeezes it roughly making me squirm and gasp when he begins to caress my nipple covered only by the thin shirt I'm wearing. He takes advantage of that opportunity to introduce his tongue, invading my mouth.
I let myself be carried away by the feeling of being with Hyun-soo again. I remember one time we were together, the first time his monster made an appearance at a time like this. Hyun-soo always took me gently and timidly, but it changed from one moment to the next.
~
I gasp when Hyun-soo licks my nipple while one of his fingers plays with my clit. I get lost in the sensation and start to squirm feeling like I'm about to cum - Hyun-soo - I sob squeezing his shoulders. He raises his head looking at me with his innocent eyes, releasing my nipple with a soft pop - Faster please - I gasp with tears in my eyes, unable to help myself I move my hips against his.
He joins his lips to mine, obeying my request, he begins to push faster, leveling his attacks with the movements on my clitoris, I moan, feeling that I am coming, pressing against him, making me gasp between desperate attacks. He comes out of me quickly cumming all over my pussy. With heavy breathing, I smile satisfied when I feel him move next to me. He moves away from me and I adjust so we can hug together, when suddenly I feel his hands firmly holding my hips.
- I'm not done yet - he whispers hoarsely before turning me around, letting me support myself with my elbows and knees.
- Hyun-soo? - I asked dazed, still not coming down from my previous orgasm - Wait, I'm still sensitive... ah! - I scream when he buries himself in my pussy with one blow.
I sob as I feel my pussy spasming trying to adjust. I gasp, feeling a pleasure that causes goosebumps all over my body - What a good girl for us - he gasps as he begins to violently hit my pussy. I can't understand his words as I feel a new orgasm forming quickly. His hands squeeze my hips to ensure each thrust, it will undoubtedly leave marks.
- Hyun-soo please - I sob feeling tears falling down my face - It's very... - he interrupts me with a strong spank that makes me scream.
- Take it - his hoarse voice orders - Take it like a good whore.
~
He brings me out of my luxurious thoughts by inserting his right hand through my pants and panties.
- So wet from some kisses - he asks amused - Or is that little head of yours thinking about my cock - without giving me a chance to respond, he kisses me abruptly, finding my clitoris quickly, playing roughly with it, making me take his wrist to try to slow it down. Without wasting time he collects my juices and inserts one of his fingers making me gasp into his mouth - You are so tight - another of his fingers enters me with fluid movements, you can hear the splashing sound thanks to how wet my pussy is .
- Take me - I beg him, wanting his cock inside me - Please, I need you.
He smiles at me before lowering my pants while I help him take off my shoes and shirt. When I finish, he puts me on the stretcher and opens my legs. I try to cover myself, feeling very vulnerable since he was fully dressed. - Don't cover yourself - he says, removing my arms that cover my breasts. - Unless you want me to tie you up so that nothing gets in the way - I swallow, imagining myself tied up, leaving my body completely at his mercy.
Without waiting any longer he opens his pants and lowers them to the middle of his thigh, he takes my legs pulling my body until my bottom is on the edge, he pushes my panties aside and spits on my pussy making me jump, he rubs his cock wetting it before slowly entering me. I gasp from the heat of the stretch, wincing as I feel his big, heavy cock pulsing in my pussy. When it is completely buried, take my legs, bending them in half until they stick to my chest - Don't let go - he orders, placing my hands to support my legs. And then take my hips.
He begins to thrust sharply without warning, making a high-pitched moan come out of me - Hyun-soo - I beg, looking at him with big eyes as his hips increase in speed. His grunts make my pussy tighten.
- After separating from you we could only think about you - he pants while smiling devilishly - About how much of a whore you are for us, how well you take us - he pinches my nipples making me make a strange noise from the pleasure and pain together that feel so good , he always knows how to make me feel good - When we saw you with that soldier I was about to kill him - he takes my throat with his big hand while I fix my eyes on his eyes that have become darker - But he didn't want to, he was very distracted with how small and pretty you looked - he slows down with hard thrusts, he moves closer until our lips touch - he was just imagining how good you would look moaning taking this cock - he returns with his hard thrusts at an inhuman speed, I wrinkle my face unable to bear the pleasure.
- Go slower - I whisper tremblingly as my eyebrows are together and tears run down my cheeks - Hyun-soo please, slower... ah! - I moan as my hips shake against him, I feel my legs shake as he continues.
- Take it - he growls, squeezing my legs that slipped from my hands. I sob as I come, feeling spasms run through my body - That's it - he chuckles, interrupting himself with a moan when he feels my pussy suffocating him. I gasp feeling another orgasm coming over me.
- Hyun... it's too much, please stop - I feel my tongue numb as I drawl the words, contrary to what I say my pussy tightens without wanting to let it out - I-I... it feels... - I stop talking, my lips parted as I stare into nothingness.
- Have I fucked your brain yet, doll? - He lets out an evil laugh, one of his hands rubs my clit quickly while the other holds my leg up.
- Please - I beg without knowing what to ask him. My body writhes from tickling everywhere - It feels strange - I sob feeling my body being invaded by pleasure coming from everywhere.
He takes his wet hand out of my pussy to slap one of my tits, making me jump and throw my head back - Did you like that, pretty? How about this? - He slaps my pussy making a stream come out of me, wetting his shirt and pants. I scream, feeling like I'm dripping until I hear some liquids fall to the floor - What a dirty doll.
I feel like I'm fading from so much pleasure when he finally comes with a grunt filling me completely. I caress my boy's back and hair letting our breathing calm down, after a while I feel small kisses on my cheeks and lips - Good girl - I see his brown eyes again as he falls on top of me hugging me.
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klaus-littlestwolf · 1 year
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The Solitary Omega -Klaus M.
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This is one of my fav stories from my Wattpad so I thought I would post it on her for everyone
Warning:Daddy Kink, a/b/o dynamics, Alpha and Omega behaviors of my own design in some parts, smut (but that’s why you’re here so enjoy it🤣)
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Vampires find their mates by scent like everyone else in the world, however there are no Omega vampires currently in existence, the last one having been 600 years ago and only existing, as far as anyone could tell, for a few weeks.  Vampires aren't attracted to Omega scents, most vampires are Alphas, very rarely scenting their mates in a Beta because very few vampires are submissive in any sense of the word.  Vampires want and need strong mates, craving the attention of another Alpha unlike humans where Alphas rarely mate with other Alphas, Alphas and Betas are the most common, making up about 92% of all mated pairs.  Alphas and Omegas make up about 7.5% of the rest leaving not even one percent to Alphas and Alphas.
As a human Klaus had always been attracted to Omegas, such as Tatia, however after the change they didn't smell appealing to him anymore and he didn't take them as a meal or a bed partner.  1000 years he spent no longer attracted to Omegas and to be honest, he missed them, their soft skin and sweet smell being everything he ever wanted, a mate to marry and bed, fill up with his pups and start a family, a family he could treat better than his had been in his life.  However as the years slowly went on it seemed less and less likely he would ever like ones smell again until after his first 100 years he gave up on the idea all together.  None of the Originals had ever met an Omega vampire, no one ever dumb enough to change one, until Mystic Falls that is.
The family had been undaggered and they were planning a ball, each writing their own invitations to whoever they wanted there for whatever reason.  He recognized all of the names until Elijah wrote a new one on the card, 'Y/Full/N'.  "Who is that brother?"
Elijah looked shocked.  "You've been here all this time and never met the Omega vampire?"  That sentence alone stunned him to silence, along with both Kol and Rebekah.  "Damon's friend, Y/n, well Y/F/n but she prefers Y/n.  I don't know how she was turned but she's lovely and very sweet, can't be more than a few vampire years old.  She undaggered me in the basement of the boarding house because she thought it was 'unfair' what Damon had done to me."  He chuckled.  "She still doesn't smell appealing however I'm not adverse to the scent either.  It's calming in a way, she's a very nice girl and I would like her to join the festivities.  You are all to leave her alone, she's my guest."  They nodded, all intrigued instantly.  "I mean it Kol."  Kol had been known to play with Omegas before but he shrugged, holding his hands up in defense.
"I'll be good."
"I actually find myself excited to meet her.  I'm intrigued."  Klaus admitted to his brother as they pulled up to the apartment complex on the edge of town, walking up to the door he knew was hers when Klaus smelled something mouth watering.  "What is that?"  He asked when Elijah knocked.
"What?"
"What is that sme-"  he was cut off by the door opening and being overtaken by the most amazingly warm, delicious scent he had ever smelled.  A shudder rushed over his body as the hair on his arms stood up and he couldn't help but inhale it for as long as he could.
"Elijah?  To what do I own this pleasure?"  She didn't seem thrilled to see him, but not put off either and Klaus found himself happy at the fact that she wasn't afraid of them.
"I wanted to request your attendance at our families ball, most of the town is invited but I wanted to make sure you knew you were my personal guest."  She seemed stunned, taking the invitation before looking back at them.
"Thank you, that's very sweet but I would have nothing to wear."  Klaus noticed her nostrils flare and she looked at him as they did, her eyes darkening and he felt a swell of pride at the fact that she clearly loved his scent as well.
"I will make sure you have a dress love, if I can make that happen...will you save me a dance?"  Again, shock filled her eyes but she couldn't hide her smile.
"I suppose I could do that, so long as you promise to be well behaved Mr. Mikaelson."  He bowed, holding out his hand and she took it, allowing him to kiss hers.
"I shall be on my best behavior, you have my word."  She smiled, taking her hand back.
"Then I would be happy to save you one dance.  Just one."  He couldn't help his amusement at her warning.
"By the end, you will want to dance the night away in my arms my dear."  She rolled her eyes, retreating back inside.
"Thank you for the invitation.  I guess I'll see you there, by the way, I'm not a conventional Omega.  I don't wear pink."  She smirked, closing the door and leaving him to laugh on his way back to the car.
"What was that about?!"  Elijah demanded as he shut his door, not liking his brother going against what he had said and teasing the girl who he had only ever seen be kind to everyone, including himself which if you're a Mikaelson, you know is rare when someone knows who you are.
"You didn't smell that?"  Elijah shrugged.  "She smells fantastic.  No...outstanding.  No...sensational!  I've never smelled an Omega like that, not even Tatia smelled like that, she's...wow..."  He sank back into his seat as Elijah began driving again.
"I don't think I've ever seen you like this.  Y/n's a sweet girl Niklaus, and she deserves more than your little one night Hump-N-Dumps."  The hybrid nodded his head quickly.
"You're right, she does.  She deserves everything...and I will give it to her!  Starting with the dress!  It has to be perfect...and I think I have just the one in mind."  Elijah rolled his eyes, driving closer to town and making Klaus look around.  "Where are we going?"
"To drop off your invitation for Miss. Forbes."
"No.  There's no time.  Forget Caroline, home!  We have to go home!"  He insisted and the look on Elijah's face was a mix of shock and genuine concern now, the last thing he ever expected was his brother to give up on Caroline for Y/n.
They went home and Klaus was out of the car quickly, running to the attic where much of the old clothes they had were kept, he came back down with a large box 10 minutes later, holding what Elijah assumed was a dress.
"I'll be back!"  He shouted and Elijah looked back to Kol, Finn, and Rebekah. 
"I'm telling you, this is either the moment of his redemption, or the moment of his demise, I'm not sure which.  Let's just hope Miss. Y/L/n doesn't treat him like Miss. Forbes did or were all in trouble."  They all knew Elijah was right.  Klaus had been infatuated with a women only a handful of times in his life but something about the look on his face was different this time and they all noticed it.  Even with Caroline there was a certain level of cockiness to their brother but the way Elijah had explained him looking at Y/n...they were all more than a little concerned.
Y/n's POV
Another knock on the door startled me and I had just jumped out of the shower making me pull on a pair of sweat pants and a tank top with nothing underneath.  "Hold On!"  I shook my wet hair out and yanked the door open to see Klaus again, this time with a large box in his hands.
"Hello Kitten."
"Hi."  It took me a second for the 'Kitten' to register but when it did I couldn't stop the blush that overtook my cheeks.  "I-I thought the ball wasn't until tomorrow-"
"It isn't, I just...I wanted to make sure you had the dress.  I knew I had the perfect one for you."  He handed it to me and I was touched but also skeptical, knowing everything I've been told about him.
"Thank you...if I open this and it's a short skirted, low cut thing that shows everything I have I'm going to slap you."  I informed him and he looked stunned.
"Of course not!  I would never do you the dishonor...not in public at least, I would never want anyone but me to see you in such a way.  I would like that to be for my eyes only."  I giggled at what I thought was his attempt at a joke before I saw he was serious.  "I'm interested in you, I can't believe I haven't met you before now and I intend to make my feelings clear.  I know you probably wouldn't accept being my date to the ball so I won't ask and upset you, but I haven't smelled an Omega who's scent was anywhere near as breathtaking as yours since I was a human and honestly, I believe ever."
I was stunned by his admission.  "That's sweet Klaus.  It would be sweeter if I didn't know you were already trying to get into Caroline's pants-"  he cut me off as I set the box on the table beside me.
"Caroline isn't invited to the ball."  My head snapped up to look at him quickly, shocked, knowing how insistent he had been for her to give him a chance, her having made me listen to several hours of her complaining about his advances.  Honestly it was just annoying to hear a beautiful girl talk non-stop about how a sexy vampire being infatuated with her was somehow an inconvenience.  "She said no to me for the last time so I'm letting Tyler go when I leave here and she's free to enjoy him.  If she's determined to be with a cheating asshole who am I to stand in the way, and before you say it, this isn't me rebounding onto you or whatever humans say now a days.  I would really like to get to know you.  Not just take you to bed (although I admit that will be on my mind as my most prominent fantasy from now on) but get to know you.  I want to know who Y/F/n is, your hopes and dreams, your likes and dislikes, hobbies and favorite foods.  I want to take you to expensive dinners and on fun day trips, spend an ungodly amount of time with you until people are so fed up by how cute we are that they can't stand to be around us anymore...I want to say I want to fall in love with you but I think that ship sailed the moment you looked at me with those gorgeous Y/EC eyes.  I will wait however long I must for you to give me whatever kind of chance you are willing, however I will start with one dance tomorrow night in this dress, with this on."  He handed me a smaller box and I took it, his warm fingers touching mine for the first time and making my skin tingle.  "This is yours now, your personal vervain filled necklace that I hope you never want to take off, it's been mine for a while and I'd really like you to have it...love to see you wearing it...I hope to see you tomorrow night love."  He took my hand and kissed it, before retreating and disappearing just before I shut the door.
I was absolutely floored as I opened the dress box, it was like he knew exactly what I would want to wear and gave it to me.  I then opened the smaller box he gave me and it was the necklace.
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It looked old, very old and given his ancestry as well as how serious he seemed about it I assumed this necklace was a big deal to him, the feeling it gave me being enough to tell me that wearing this would be a promise to give him a chance, a real chance as my Alpha.  I set it on my bedside table and relaxed with some Game of Thrones for the rest of the night, looking over at the necklace every few minutes unable to get it out of my head before sighing and taking my time to get it over my head, settling it on my chest and something about it just feeling right.
I took my time getting ready the next evening, calling an Uber and getting a ride to the house about 15 minutes late, not wanting to arrive right on time.  Everyone seemed to already be inside when I got out of the Uber and I took a deep breath, walking in and quickly being handed a glass of champagne.  "Thank you."  The boy nodded and I looked around, walking through the ball room and the bar in aww of the house.  "Damn...how do people afford this shit?"  I mumbled to myself.
"Years of saving money."  I gasped, jumping and turning around as I heard a voice in my ear, seeing Klaus standing behind me.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry.  That was rude, I didn't mean-"
"Not rude at all.  I know I'm more well off than most, though I think it balances out considering I used to live in a one room hut with a dirt floor and 5 siblings." 
"That sounds awful...but also sort of fun.  I never had siblings, always felt like I missed out."
"There's positives and negatives.  Don't tell them but I wouldn't give them up for anything."  I nodded.
"I can tell how much you love your family, I think it's very sweet...misguided in some of the things you've done maybe, but loving.  Thank you for the dress, it's perfect.  I'm in love with it!  I think I took like, 200 pictures of myself tonight."  The smile on his face was well worth it.
"I'm glad, I was worried you wouldn't like it, it would be too dark-"
"Nothing is too dark for me.  I wear black 99% of my life, I just feel the most comfortable in it."  I finished the glass of champagne as I looked him over.  "You clean up nice, really nice, love the hair."  I giggled at seeing it slicked back.
"Are you making fun of me, Kitten?"  I gasped dramatically.
"I would never!"  He took the empty glass from my hand, placing it on a waiters tray before holding out his arm for me to take.
"Let me get you a drink, I'd like to show you something if I may."  I shrugged as he led me to the bar, the bartender dropping everything to serve him first.  "Bourbon and, what would you like sweet girl?"  I blushed at the nickname before looking up at the man.
"Long Island?"  He nodded and Klaus looked down at me as his bourbon was placed on the counter.
"You like fruity drinks?  I don't know why I didn't expect that."  I shrugged.
"My friends dad taught me to drink, he says you can't be an Omega and not know how to hold liquor in this day and age, too dangerous.  I can handle just about anything, though you never have to worry about me stealing your bourbon."  I told him, wrinkling my nose and he chuckled.  "If I was going to drink something it would probably be some kind of whiskey, I like fireball.  I just prefer things that don't taste like paint thinner if I can help it, taste better and get drunk faster, win win on the cocktails.  Though I don't need to be smashed tonight so this will be the last for a while I think."
"We'll get you some water later?"  He teased and I shoved him with my shoulder as he handed me my drink and took his own, leading me away from the crowd and through a door, up the back staircase.
"Are you going to murder me?"  I joked and he leaned close, sniffing my neck, growling.
"Maybe I am."  He was teasing me and I couldn't hide the chill that ran up my spine, making him smile.
"I think you have a lovely smile."  His smirk returned as I said this and I shook my head.   "Not smirk, smile.  A real smile, you don't do it a lot but I'm assuming you do it a lot with me compared to other people.  It makes your eyes light up."  I looked up at him as we stopped outside a door and he looked down at me, shocked.  "You have really pretty eyes."  I admitted and I could see a faint blush on his face.
"You do as well, they're a deep, amazing green that I could get lost in for hours if you will let me someday.  I also love this cute little button nose."  He teased, running his finger down the bridge of my nose.  "Perfect cheek bones...lovely red lips that I-Uh...anyway!"  He cut himself off.  "I want to show you a painting I did last night.  I just couldn't sleep until I got it out."  Klaus opened the door, taking my hand this time and pulling me inside, leading me over to the fire place and looking up at the painting over the mantle...it was me...or at least I think it was.  I definitely don't see myself like that, I'm beautiful.  It's so bright and well proportioned, I could never in my wildest dreams do anything like this.
"Klaus...this is...this is amazing!  Wow, I...just...wow!"  I moved to the bed beside us and sat on the edge, looking up at it, sipping the last of my drink and putting the glass on the table.
"I would like to draw you naked next."  He teased, sitting beside me and looking up at the painting.  "I'm not being forward, I promise, I really am interested in you.  I know it's only been a day but...I can't get you out of my head.  I would like you to be my Omega, I'm sure you get that all the time from Asshole Alphas that think they can just decide that you're theirs but I...I want you to choose me.  I want you to want me, want to be with me, want me to touch you and care for you and love you.  I understand though if everyone has scared you off of me too much, I just hope that's not the case."  He was right, people had tried to scare me when talking about Klaus, Damon and Stefan mostly, then Elena, once again pretending that everyone's lives revolve around her when in fact the only reason Klaus needed her was that she is a doppelgänger, not because she's just so amazing!  Lastly Caroline, who, like I said, would rant to anyone who would listen about the struggles of having a sexy, rich, hybrid artist fawn over her and shower her in gifts and wonderful drawings.  I sighed, getting up my nerve and standing, walking passed him and hearing him sigh as I shut the door, locking it.  He seemed to think I had left and I was quiet as possible when I unzipped the dress, watching him gulp the rest of his drink while I dropped the dress to the floor, sliding onto the bed and laying my head on the pillows.  He didn't seem to have noticed me before he stood up and turned to go to the door, seeing my dress on the floor, freezing before turning his head and looking to find me laid out on his pillows in my bra and panties.  "Holy fuck."  He breathed out and I giggled.
"Are you planning to draw me or what?  It's not exactly naked but-"
"You're perfect!"  He cut me off, jumping to grab his sketch book and sitting at the bottom of the bed.
"How do you want me?"  His eyes widened at my phrasing and I saw him try and discreetly adjust himself in his pants as he crept closer, lifting my hand over my head before turning the other one up and just as he was about to adjust my hips he stopped and looked at me, asking permission with his eyes and I found it sweet, making me nod.
"If anyone else ever sees this Klaus I swear to God-"
"I'll gouge their eyes out with a rusty spoon.  No one will ever look at you like this and live to tell the tale again...and this...this means what I hope it does?  That you want to be mine...that you'll let me be your Alpha?  Treat you the way you deserve?"  I smiled, nodding again and he moved his hands to shift my body into a better position for how he wanted to sketch me.
"Don't really know what you mean by the way I deserve but...I would like to call you Alpha."  I answered and it seemed to be enough.
"I want you to only call me Alpha...or Daddy."  He spoke as he began his sketching, causing me to purr at the idea and him to need to adjust himself again.
"Are you going to be able to go back to the party with that?"  I questioned, looking at the bulge in his pants and he chuckled.
"I'll be okay once I go to the bathroom."  I rolled my eyes but stayed still while he worked and I loved the intensity in his eyes as he drew me.
We were in there for about a half hour before he finished and once again I was breathtaking.  "I just work with what you give me."  He helped me back into the dress and led me back down the stairs to the party just as they were giving a toast.  He stopped me at the bottom of the stairs and joined his family as Elijah spoke, taking a champagne glass as I did and drinking.  I walked to the bar while Klaus spoke to Elijah about something before feeling a hand on my arm and turning to see Caroline.
"Where have you been Y/n?"
"Nowhere."  I took my drink and tried to walk around her but she stopped me again.
"Klaus didn't invite me to this himself, I had to come as someone's date, do you know why?"  I shrugged.  "Because he asked you."
"I think technically Elijah asked me, that's who my invitation was from anyway, but yes, he finally decided to let you be happy with Tyler like you wanted.  Go enjoy him. Have fun, be free of the man you called a nuisance."  She glared at me, taking her own drink.
"I wanted to have Tyler and enjoy being chased by a hot hybrid, until you."  I didn't know how to respond to that.
"You always said you hated his annoying advances, and how am I to control who he chases?"
"Turn him down!"
"Cause that worked so well for you?"
"Tell him to leave you alone, you don't like him, he should go back to chasing me, he'll listen.  I'm sure he misses me."  I rolled my eyes, turning to walk away.  "Don't walk away from me!"  She demanded, grabbing my hair and pulling me back, making me growl, grabbing her hand and pulling it away, breaking several fingers in my grasp.
"Don't forget how much older than you I am, I'm not fighting you for Klaus, he's already mine.  He stopped compelling Tyler and he's free to be with you now, be happy and stay away from me."
"Ladies?  Everything alright here?"  I heard my Alphas voice and it calms me like nothing else, even this fast after just accepting being his Omega.
"Yes Alpha, all okay here.  Caroline was just telling me how grateful she is to you for releasing Tyler."  Her glare became even stronger as she heard what I called him and he knew it was a lie but went with it.
"You're welcome Caroline.  I realized you were right, you and I never would have worked.  Is he here with you?"  She shook her head and I knew I had seen Tyler here.
"Is...is he with someone else?"  I couldn't stop myself from asking and her eye twitched slightly.  "Oh god Care, I'm so sorry!"
"If you're sorry you'll do what I asked."  She told me and I laughed.
"I'm sorry you got dumped but that doesn't mean I'm giving you my Alpha just because the option you liked better is gone.  He's a person, not some toy you can put down and pick up whenever you want to play with him, you treated Klaus like shit, I'm not going to make that mistake.  I'll treat my Alpha like the king that he is."  I told her, reaching up and brushing my fingers down his jaw, loving the happiness in his eyes as I did.
"My sweet girl."  He rumbled happily in his chest, kissing my forehead.  The next thing I knew I was covered in what I'm assuming was champagne as Caroline threw her drink on me and I rolled my eyes in exasperation.
"I liked this dress Care, that was a mistake."  She scoffed, about to say something snotty when I reached my hand up and drilled my fist straight into her face.  I got 4 punches in before my Alpha finally stopped me, everyone in the bar area, which thankfully was only about 10 people, were now staring at us in shock, her face now gushing blood all over her dress as I had very clearly broken more than just her nose.  "You know I hit like a man Care, I don't throw bitch punches!  Shouldn't have thrown your drink on me!"  Klaus began carrying me to the back door to get us out of here.  "Stay away from my Alpha!  Next time I'll break every bone you have!"  I shouted before he finally shut the door and hauled me into the kitchen where no one was allowed and back up to the top of the stairwell.
"That was uncalled for Y/n...but thank you."
"I get that you're kind of a dick but that's no reason to treat you like trash, you're not trash. Been nothing but nice to me..." I nuzzled into his neck and he held me tightly to his chest despite the champagne all over me. "I need a shower...I should go home." I admitted and he whined sadly. "I don't want to either but I don't have any clothes with me, just my clutch that I left in your room-"
"Borrow something of mine to sleep in, shower and stay here tonight. We'll abandon the rest of the party, substitute the dance you promised for some cuddling?" I considered it for a moment before sighing, knowing I was going to say yes.
"Okay Alpha, I'll spend the night. Just get me out of this, I'm starting to feel sticky." He lifted me up, blurring to his room and shutting the door behind him, setting me on the bathroom floor. He leaned down to turn on the water and I quickly dropped the dress, bra unhooking along with it and panties coming down as he set the water to a good temperature.
"Alright, that should be good. Leave your clothes and I'll take them when I leave something you can sleep in on the coun-" he cut himself off as he turned to see me now completely naked.
"Or, you could go get me the clothes, throw those into the hamper and join me in the shower, I think you have some champagne on you too, better safe than sorry, don't you think?" I pulled him close to me, hand on the back of his neck as I pulled him to my level, noses brushing, lips so very close and I noticed his breathing quicken. "My Alpha. Mine." I growled and he groaned, prompting me to connect our lips roughly. His hands found my waist and he pulled me close, trailing them down to my ass where he squeezed firmly causing me to moan against his lips. He used that to his advantage, shoving his tongue between my them and exploring my mouth almost obsessively, as if he expected me to stop him any minute, which I did as I shivered with a chill.
"You're cold. Get in the shower, I'll be right there. Is a shirt and boxers enough or do you need more cause I can snatch something from Rebekah-"
"It's fine Alpha, just hurry up." His eyes trailed over my body as he backed out of the room, rushing quickly to his dresser as I stepped into his shower which was an amazing shower that very clearly had heated floors and a marble seat just out of the water. The shower head was rectangular, about 2 feet long in the very large space and directly over head. The glass wall of the shower was charcoal, not completely clear glass which I loved and the walls seemed to be black quartz or something, his bathroom being overall dark but still light enough that it was inviting and I was instantly in love with it, even the water pressure being perfect. "Getting lonely!" I called out as he took too long.
"You're very distracting. Sorry." He admitted and I turned my head to see him shirtless and leaning against the counter, my dress was gone and instead there were 2 sets of clothes on the sinks. I leaned my head back under the water, turning my body around so he could now see the front of me, my nipples hard at the idea of being watched by him for who knows how long and I could feel my pussy was soaked while he just continued watching me.
"How long is my Daddy going to stand there watching?" He growled, eyes shining yellow as I called him that for the first time.
"As long as I want Kitten, can't I just enjoy the sight of my Omega?" The emphasis he put on that was possessive and to anyone but an Omega might be scary but I adored it, loving and craving someone wanting me so terribly.
"Hmm, guess I'm going to have to get myself off, huh?" I trailed my hands from my hair where they were brushing through in the water, over my chest and squeezing my breasts lightly before slowly turning back around and away from him as one hand stayed on my tit and the other tailed down to my pussy.
"Y/n, turn around." He warned and I threw my head back, gasping at the feeling of my fingers on my clit. "Omega! Now! Don't be naughty our first night together, Daddy knows you're a good little girl. I just want to watch you for a moment, why are you denying your Alpha?" I whimpered at the thought, my Omega brain now set on the fact that this man is my Alpha, this man is going to be my mate and even unbonded all I want to do is please him, making me turn back around and him groan as he sees my 2 fingers on my clit, rubbing slowly. "Such a fucking tease Y/n." He growled, palming over his length, now hard under his boxers and suit pants.
"You too. Want you Alpha, please? I'm so wet for you!" My eyes had closed at some point but they snapped open as I heard his belt clatter and he quickly unbuttoned them, letting them and his boxers fall around his ankles, kicking them off and hopping into the shower beside me. I reached my hands out for him and he took them, placing them onto his shoulders, pulling my body flush against his so I felt his cock against my lower belly as he wrapped his arm around my back, the other hand grabbing my chin and turning it to face up at him as he leaned down, pressing our lips together again.
"All mine sweet girl, all mine. I'll never get tired of saying it. Mine!" I whimpered, nails digging into his back as his hips rocked against my body, cock rubbing against my damp skin to gain some friction.
I opened my eyes, looking up at him and grabbing his hips to make him stop, his eyes quickly looking down at me. "Mine." I stated, nothing else, just one word.
"Yours, all yours little wolf-"
"If she comes near you again you tell me and I'll kill her. Don't want her to even look at you, you understand?" I questioned and he smirked.
"I have myself a jealous little thing, don't I-"
"She doesn't care for relationships or mating, she has no respect. She would touch you, no one will ever touch you besides me again." He looked stunned, whether it was by my attitude or the fact that he was only going to be with me for eternity I didn't know. "If that's not what you want, let me go now-" the growl that escaped him was vicious as he grabbed ahold of my hips, pinning me to the wall.
"You think I did all this only to use you once?! You're mine Omega! All fucking mine! No one else will ever touch you again, my hands, my tongue, my cock-"
"No one will ever touch you again either. Can you live with that?" He snorted, smiling and nodding.
"Of course Y/n. I want you to be my mate. If she ever even bats her eyelashes at me suggestively I promise I will tell you. Now, no more talk of Caroline, let me have you. All mine pretty girl, All Fucking Mine!" He grabbed ahold of my waist, lifting me up and I wrapped my legs around his hips, snuggling close and pressing my lips to his as he guided his cock to my entrance, wasting no time in waiting to have and mark me after this incident, needing us both to be sure that no one else would ever come between us again, needing to mark each other so no one could ever steal our mate again.  "Fuck!  So tight Omega, so fucking perfect for me!"  He groaned, needing to take it slowly until he bottomed out so as not to hurt me.
"Alpha!  So big Alpha, stretching me so good!  Never...so big..."  I whimpered at the pain though I was enjoying it as well and he could clearly see that as he pulled back from my neck to look at my face.
"All mine, my tight, little pussy!  Gonna mark you up so good no one will ever even be able to imagine fucking you without seeing my face.  Tell me...tell me I can move?"  I took a deep breath before nodding and he pulled back, easing his cock back into me before doing it once more and slamming home the third time.
"Fuck!  Oh My God Daddy!"  I used the wall behind me as leverage to hump my hips into him, my legs tightly wrapped around his waist.
"Daddy's here sweet girl, all Daddy's."  I honestly don't understand how he hasn't put a hole in the wall behind me yet but I wasn't about to complain, never having been fucked quite like this in my life.
"Daddy!  So good!  Never been so good!"  The rumble that came from his chest was a pleased sound, clearly he was very happy to know he made me feel so good where other Alpha's failed.  He pulled me closer, if at all possible, turning and sitting on the shower seat so that he could thrust up into me, slamming his cock into me even harder and making me cry out in a mixture of mild pain and intense pleasure.  "Da-ddy!  Don't st-op!  Never Stop!  Want you to fuck me forever!"  I felt tears leak from the corners of my eyes as my lower belly tightened, a feeling I had only ever given myself in the past.  "Oh...oh shit...Alpha...I...I need-"
"I know Omega, Daddy knows what you need.  Your Alpha will always give you everything you need, my pretty little Kitten.  Cum for me Y/n, cum all over your Alphas cock, cum for me while I mark this perfect little neck-"
"Daddy!  Oh Daddy!"  I couldn't stop the squeal that came from my throat as my pussy constricted around him, the tension in my tummy finally becoming too much as my fangs dug into his neck.
"There's my girl, so good for me, such a perfect little princess, cumming so good for her Alpha.  Fuck...so tight around me, so close I-"  I scratched my nails up his shoulders and squeezed my pussy as tightly as I could before feeling him finish, heat spreading through me as he came, quite a lot it seemed, stilling inside of me and burying his face into my neck.  His fangs digging into my neck was the next thing I noticed, feeling the burn of his venom spreading through me though it didn't hurt, at least not right away. 
As I felt truly finished with injecting my venom I released his throat, relishing in the feeling of the pleasurable heat inside of me and my mates skin pressed all over mine just a second before the venom in my neck began to burn.  I could tell he was still pumping me full of venom and cum so I stayed still, ignoring the pain for as long as I could, my nails digging into his skin again though this time out of genuine pain as the burning got worse, now spreading through my veins. 
As a vampire, half of his venom is toxic to me, though the vampire in him as well as his werewolf half needed to mark me desperately, and as his Omega it's all I wanted, needing to mark my Alpha as well.  It would be perfectly fine as long as he heals the negative effects the werewolf part of the venom could have on my body though it would be days before I was in any real trouble.  I underestimated how badly the venom spreading would hurt though, just wanting my Alpha to be able to enjoy this moment that he's been waiting for, for over 1000 years.  Unable to hide it any longer I accidentally let out a pain filled whimper and he seemed to snap back to reality, pulling his fangs away and looking down into my eyes.  The pain eased as he released me and I smiled up at him, kissing my Alpha and hearing that happy rumble in his chest, starting to purr for him but not being able to hold it very long, trying again for only a second and making him pull back from the kiss to look at me, concerned.  "Omega?"  I whimpered and he looked over me slightly before seeing the black veins spreading from the mateing mark he had delivered me.  "Oh God, I'm so sorry!"  I shook my head as he bit into his wrist and pushed it between my lips.  "I didn't even think about that!  My venom is toxic to you...I can't even mark you without hurting you..."
"No!"  I whined as I felt the pain disappear.  "Loved it Alpha, didn't start hurting right away.  Just need to drink when you mark me from now on, I didn't think about it either.  Next time I'll take some of your blood and it won't hurt me a bit."  I reached my hands up to his face and pulled him close to kiss me again.
"Promise me?  Don't let me hurt you-"  I shook my head.
"Loved it Daddy, didn't start hurting for almost 10 seconds.  Just gotta drink from now on, please don't stop?  Need you to mark me Alpha!  Need it!"
"No, no, Shh.  Of course I'm going to mark you sweet girl, nothing will stop me!  Daddy will never deny his Omega his mark, I promise.  Don't worry, all mine."  He leaned back in, pressing his lips to his mark and giving me a chill straight down my spine. 
"Snuggle Alpha?"  I questioned, my eyes feeling drowsy as my glands began the job of settling his scent all through my bloodstream and body, adjusting to my new mated status which was a bit of a stressful thing on an Omegas body.  Settling an Alphas scent takes some time which is why most newly mated pairs don't emerge from their nest again for several days.
He seemed to be able to tell right away, nuzzling into my neck and kissing over his mark.  "Of course sweet girl, Alpha will always snuggle you-"
"Always?  Love snuggles Alpha."  He nodded, pressing his lips to mine.
"Always.  My precious girl will never be deprived of her Alphas warm arms wrapped around her."  He shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a black towel around me to keep me warm as he quickly dried himself off and pulled on his boxers, caressing me with the towel quite thoroughly until I was dry enough to put the boxers on as well as the Henley shirt.  He wrapped my hair up in a bun so I could deal with it later and hoisted me back into his arms, blurring us to his bed and snuggling me to his chest.  We spent quite a bit of time just snuggled like that until there was a knock on his door making my Alpha sigh, kissing my head and jumping up.  "What can I help you with brother?"  He questioned as he opened the door to find, I'm assuming, Elijah.
"You left in the middle of the party brother and it smells like sex in here.  Don't you dare tell me you brought someone up here when you're meant to be 'woo'ing Y/n!  I told you, she's a sweet girl and she deserves more than half your attention or a one night Fuck!  I swear to everything that is holy Niklaus, I-"
"It's okay Elijah...I think I'm going to be here for a while."  I spoke up, sitting up in the bed as Nik moved enough for Elijah to see me.
"Oh...that was fast.  Much faster than I anticipated..."  he stopped himself, pushing passed his brother and appearing beside me, tilting my head to bear my throat which made me whimper and Nik snarl quite loudly.  "I'm sorry, that was rude of me, I just-"
"She’s not settled yet brother,she needs to sleep if you don't mind."  He pulled his hands away, stepping back.
"My apologies Y/n, I would never...um...we can talk another time then."  I nodded, scootching away from the suited man.  “Damon snapped Kol’s neck-"
"What?!"  Nik growled and I whined.  He was suddenly by my side again, kissing my head to relax me.
"I don't know much but they seem to have made each other upset.  Everyone has left, mother seemed to have enjoyed herself."  I flinched slightly and Nik looked down at me.
"What was that?"  I shook my head.
"Nothing.  I don't want anything to do with it, just like I told Damon...please leave me out of it?"  I begged, not wanting anything to do with their clearly corrupt mother.
"Do with what Omega?"  I bit my lip to stop from saying anything.  "Omega..."  he warned and I sighed.
"Your mother wanted to talk to Elena tonight about something important.  She thinks your mom still wants to kill you but she wasn't sure exactly what she wanted.  She was supposed to meet her tonight, I don't know anything else.  I don't want to know, I don't Alpha."  He looked at Elijah, seeming to have a silent conversation.
"We can talk tomorrow about it, don't you worry sweet girl, you won't be dragged into anything anymore.  I'll come see you in the morning brother.  My Omega needs to sleep."
"Of course.  Good night little one."  I waved to my suited friend.
"Night night Eli."  He shut the door behind him and Nik snuggled back into me.
"You sleep my love.  We will spend the whole day together tomorrow, and you will feel all better."
"Yes Alpha.  All better."  I mumbled, my eyes drifting shut and my body giving way to sleep.
'Where did you go last night?  Caroline said you are dating Klaus now?!'  The text from Damon was what woke me up, Nik still asleep wrapped around me as I grabbed my phone from the clutch on his bed side table.
'I don't know what she's on about but I went home.  I had enough to drink and she got snappy because Tyler was with another girl.  Why?  Is something going on again?'
I looked back at Nik, brushing my fingers through his hair and kissing his nose as he began moving.  "Good morning."  I whispered and he smiled, opening his eyes to see me.
"Best morning.  The best morning I've ever had in 1000 years of life, waking up with my Omega in my arms for the first time.  I love you."  He pressed his lips to mine just as my phone dinged again.
"I love you too Alpha.  You're going to wake up with me in your arms for the rest of forever.  Enjoy it."  I looked back at my phone, opening the messages and knowing I couldn't not tell Nik about this instantly.
'Esther is using Elena's blood to help bind her children together and kill them.  The usual in this town I think.'
"Daddy?  I need you to promise me that if I show you something you're not going to get angry.  I need you to remember our bond is still settling and I need a calm environment and a loving mate."  He looked startled by this.
"I would never upset you, especially not now, and you're always safe with me.  Why, what's wrong?"  I handed him the phone and let him read the texts.  "Sweet girl, I'm going to borrow this for a moment to show my brother.  You wait right here, nice and calm, nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about." He said all that but rushed from the room rather quickly making me sigh before seeing Kol walk passed the room, glancing in and seeing me.
"Hello...who are you?" His smirk showed all his teeth in a threatening way making me pull the blankets closer.
"Your brothers Omega." Was my answer and he held his hands up as if to show me he was unarmed.
"Congratulations. Niklaus has always wanted an Omega. I'm surprised one was finally stupid enough to give him the time of day." I hissed at that, baring my teeth this time, making him smile. "Where did Nik run off to, leaving his settling Omega?"
"To tell Elijah that your mother is trying to kill you." His face fell at that before sighing.
"I knew it. I knew her loving us was too good to be true, I can't believe I..." he sighed and I could see the hurt on his face, making me take his hand to comfort him. He looked up at me, considering me for a moment before smiling a little. "Thank you. You're a sweet Omega. Nik got himself a good one it seems. I actually thought she might be serious this time, I...I feel stupid." I shook my head quickly.
"No matter how old you are she's your mom. The fact that she's trying to hurt you is unnatural and monstrous, don't feel badly sweetie." I pulled him close and he laid down, head now on my lap as I ran fingers through his hair.
"Can I stay here until Nik comes back?" I considered it and seeing as he wasn't being threatening I nodded, patting the bed beside me, him crawling up and snuggling into me, head on my chest, wrapping the blankets around me but staying on top of them himself which I found kind. I ran my fingers through his hair as he snuggled into me, enjoying whatever kind of comfort he was getting from me right now.
We stayed that way silently for about 20 minutes and just when I was drifting back off to sleep Nik walked back in. "Thank you for being patient my love, I...KOL!" We both jumped, him having startled both of us from a half sleep making me whine loudly. "No, no. Calm down my sweet, it's alright. Kol, what are you doing." He was trying very hard not to snap and growl at him and I very much appreciated his trying.
"Nothing! Your Omega is very comforting, I like her Nik. You picked a good one. She gives me head scratches."
"Kol, I'm trying very hard right now, you see that don't you? Very hard not to kill you."
"No killing. Go Kol, we can hang out sometime I'm not so newly mated, okay?" He looked over at me and nodded, jumping over me out of the bed.
"Thanks Y/n...you're not so bad."
"Thanks?" He shut the door behind him and Klaus took his place as soon as he was gone.
"What was that?"
"I told him about your mom and...it really upset him. I guess he tried to convince himself she was being real this time. It's natural. No matter how old you are there will always be a part of you that just wants your mom, and your mom is kind of a cunt it seems so that really does a number on you I'm sure." He nodded and I kissed his head, holding him to my chest to snuggle and go back to sleep before the door burst open again. "I'm going to have to go home to get some sleep in this fucking house!"
"What is this I hear about you saying our mother wants us dead?!" Rebekah was now in the room, hissing angrily and I rolled my eyes.
"I'm leaving."
"No! No you're not my love, lay down. No one else will come in, I promise. Out Rebekah! Sleep pretty girl, Alpha will be right back." I sighed, laying back down as he forced her out.
"Alpha? Are you kidding me?" He shoved her violently before shutting the door and that's the last I heard for a while until the door opened again and I saw Finn.
"Is the whole Mikaelson family going to pay a visit today?" I was immediately nervous when he closed the door behind him, making me move away.
"I never actually thought an Omega would get into bed with my devil brother. You know it's why he really daggered me don't you? Because I told him such?"
"Well I don't think he's the devil. I mean, he's a Dick, but not the devil, and he's nothing but good and kind to me. Finn...you're scaring me, p-please? Please leave?" I felt tears well up in my eyes as he stepped closer anyway.
"Why does my little brother, the worst of us all, get to be happy when my Sage is dead and I have to live alone? Answer me that little Omega, hmm?" I was instantly confused by that as I finally jumped from the opposite side of the bed.
"Sage? The girl that taught Damon to be a vampire? The red head? She's not dead!" He glared as I said it, appearing in front of me instantly and grabbing my throat tightly, holding me against the wall.
"Don't you lie to me! My mother told me that she was gone-"
"Mother...lie...wants...dead..." I choked as well as I could with his tight grip.
"What?" He released me and I fell to the floor instantly.
"ALPHA!" I screamed as loudly as I could, shoving the bedside table out and hiding behind it.
"Is she really alive? Really?" I nodded, cowering away as he looked at me but stopped coming closer, standing with a shocked look on his face as the door was thrown open violently and suddenly my Alpha was growling at Finn angrily.
"What are you doing?!"
"Nothing I...I'm so sorry little one...thank you..." he was gone instantly and Nik was in front of me looking very sorry.
"I'm so sorry love. My first day as your Alpha and I'm rubbish at it...come, let's get you comfortable. No one else will come in, I will make sure of it. Trust me?" He held his hands out and I paused but took them, allowing him to settle me into bed before he went back to the door. "The Next Person Who Enters This Room Without My Permission Will Get Their Throat Ripped Out! UNDERSTAND?!" I heard a few scattered 'yes'' before he was gone again making me whine, returning 10 seconds later. "I'm having breakfast made for us my love. They will knock and leave it by the door for us so you don't have to see anyone else. I'm so sorry pretty girl. So sorry." I nuzzled back into my Alphas neck and let him hold me, only wanting his comfort after everything that had just happened. "Nap until the food comes, we'll eat and watch a movie, then I'll scent you again. That should help. Relax." He was petting my head as he made that familiar rumbling sound in his chest that calmed me, sending me right off back to sleep in his arms.  I didn't wake back up until there was a light knock on the door and Nik jumped up, getting the tray from the maid who didn't even try to come in.  "Hungry Kitten?"  I nodded and he kissed my head, taking the top off of the tray and revealing 2 omelets, a plate of sausage, a plate of toast, and a plate of bacon.  "Eat baby, you're safe.  I promise, nothing is going to harm you again.  I don't care if it's Elijah himself, if someone comes through that door their neck is getting snapped.  Safe to eat."  He kissed my forehead again and turned on the tv. He wrapped himself around me and I ended up feeding him as he rubbed himself over my skin, scenting me.
"Wanna stay like this forever Alpha." I admitted and he stopped his movements, kissing my head and turning me to see him.
"Then we will, we'll stay in this room, have our meals brought to us on silver platters, do nothing but snuggle, eat, sleep and mate for the rest of our existence." His teasing made me giggle as I leaned against him, laying back down to sleep again and he continued. "No more mother, or Salvatore's, or pesky annoying siblings, just mated bliss forever, all for you my lovely Y/n." He kissed my shoulder as I drifted off again. I knew there would be problems to be dealt with tomorrow and the next day and probably the next day but for now I would relax and just enjoy this contentment, the beginning of a long and happy life with my Alpha.
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Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist
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jjonglemons · 1 month
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Stress Relief
2HO / NSFW
Warnings: drinking, switch, threesome, female anatomy, mirror play (?), choking, oral, voyeurism (?), some pet names (baby), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all)
Hello, everyone! I just started writing smut recently. I'm not as descriptive as I want to be, but I'm slowly improving. I have two stories out on Wattpad, but I want to transfer them to Tumblr and continue here. After Yunho's fucking neck choreo on tour where he GRABBED THE DANCER'S HAND AND FORCED HIM TO CHOKE HIM, I was feeling some type of way so I wrote this (I want to expand on this in another story). But I'm also a Jongho bias so I was like.... Let's make this extra fun!
Enjoy :)
You, Yunho, and Jongho are overstressed from work.
WORD COUNT: 1978
I wasn't planning to be here, yet here I was. I had found myself alone in the classiest bar I could find. My day had been full of embarrassment in the office, and all I wanted was a few drinks and to remind myself that I am THAT BITCH. I deserved to splurge on a couple of overpriced cosmos and martinis tonight.
The bartender and I didn't talk much other than the usual "here's your drink" and "thank you." I think she could sense I wasn't in the mood for that and kept our verbal interactions minimal, though she often sent a smile my way. It was comforting amongst my shitty day.
I glanced around the space, my eyes landing on each person for a brief moment of curiosity. I wonder what their stories are. I thought to myself. As I nearly completed my rounds, I couldn't help but notice two beautiful men sitting in the corner. One was brunette with an intense look, yet he also emanated softness. He wore a suit and seemed to be reading over some sort of contract. The man beside him had dyed silver hair and a warm smile playing at his lips. His overalls framed his body well.
I must have been looking a little too long, because suddenly we made eye contact. Embarrassed, I looked away quickly and turned back to face the bar. I sipped awkwardly at my martini, trying not to ruminate on if I made them feel uncomfortable or not.
"What brings you here alone?" I heard a voice beside me. Startled, I bumped my glass, causing some of the drink to spill out onto the counter.
I heard a chuckle from my other side. "Careful," he said gently, grabbing some napkins to wipe up the mess.
"Thanks," I stated, then continued. "What are you two doing here yourselves? You seemed to be studying that paper, or whatever it was, pretty intently."
"You must have been watching us for a while." The brunette smirked. I opened my mouth to say something but was afraid I'd only embarrass myself further. "I'm Jongho," he added, "and you are?"
"Y/N."
"Nice to meet you, y/n, I'm Yunho," the other man said, reaching for a handshake.
I took his hand. "Likewise."
Jongho began to speak again, going back to my original question of what they were doing in the bar. "We're both working on a very big case these days. Super stressful, but it's been an.... interesting experience, to say the least."
"Lawyers?" I questioned.
"For 6 years." Yunho nodded. "And what about you? What do you do?"
"I work in advertising," I said, "and today's meetings were just an absolute mess I needed to unwind."
"Unwind, you say?" Jongho leaned over my shoulder slightly to pick up Yunho and his's drinks. I must have been so lost in the moment that I didn't even realize he had ordered. I felt his breath touch my ear, "I definitely feel that way, too. Must be something in the air," he laughed.
My body reacted stronger than I expected to him being so close. I couldn't help that my mind was now creating scenarios. Not only with him, but Yunho too. I didn't notice how sexy they were before. Seeing them up close was obviously very different than noticing them from afar in a dim bar corner. You know what, maybe a good fuck is what I needed. Oh god, what am I saying?
"Earth to y/n," I heard Yunho's voice, snapping me out of my trance, "are you alright?"
I cleared my throat. "Sorry, I was distracted by my thoughts."
"Must have been really good ones, you were biting your lip and looking at us pretty intensely."
I blushed and facepalmed. "I'm embarrassed."
"Don't be," I felt Jongho's fingers brush against my free hand, "if it's any consolation I've.... been having some thoughts myself throughout this conversation."
My stomach erupted with butterflies. He barely said anything, but damn, did he have a way with words.
"You know," Yunho chimed in. He leaned in a bit closer to me. I could feel my body temperature rising exponentially. "Our hotel is pretty well known for having comfortable beds."
His whisper sent shivers down my spine. And my god, was he driving me crazy. In that moment, I gathered up all of my confidence. There's no way I'd be completely submissive. I'm a grown woman, and I know what I want.
"Is that so?" I cooed, "I'd say mine's better."
"Oh?"
"Maybe we should see if she's right, what do you think, Yunho?" Jongho said slyly.
"I'll call a cab right now."
I smirked, placing cash on the counter to pay for all of our drinks. "Enjoy your night," I said to the bartender before quickly pulling the boys out of the bar with me.
"I like a woman who isn't afraid to take the lead," Jongho said once we were outside.
"I like to keep it fair," I replied.
The cab ride was short and sweet. VERY sweet. The three of us weren't afraid to tease until we got to the hotel. Jongho was so bold as to slip his hands under my dress and finger me gently. I knew how to be quiet, and thank god it was too dark for the driver to see us. Yunho nibbled at my ear, whispering sweet nothings. Him calling me "baby" in that low voice of his alone would honestly be enough to make me come.
I've never reached a hotel room so fast. Yunho immediately pinned me against the door before it shut completely, causing a loud slam to echo throughout the top floor hallway.
"Fuck," I said, breathlessly.
"I want them to hear us," he said.
Yunho kissed me briefly for a moment before pulling away. He gently led me over towards the bed where Jongho was waiting. Jongho stared at me, not breaking eye contact. He slowly began to unbutton his suit, biting his lip.
"Oh, you want to strip for me, huh?" I teased.
"Of course," he responded quickly, "have you seen yourself? Fuck, I've never been so turned on by anyone before."
"Is that so?" I inched slowly towards him, gently moving his hands away so I could continue undressing him myself. "I'll absolutely make this night worth your while; you can trust me."
"I do."
Once Jongho's torso was bare, I kissed him for a few seconds and then left a small trail of them on his collarbone before moving back over to Yunho. As he finished removing his shirt, I slid my hands around his waist from behind and undid his belt. I heard his breath catch in his throat. I watched him in the mirror in front of us, a sudden darkness falling over his face. "Did I say you could do that?" This was getting very interesting. He gripped my wrists to stop me from continuing and turned around so we were face to face.
Seeing as I am a bratty switch, saying that only pushed me to fight back. I pushed him back against the dresser, grasping his hands in such a way that I was now in control. "And what if I don't? What will you do? Are you going to punish me?"
He gritted his teeth, mustering enough strength to free one of his hands. He grabbed my chin and forced me closer. "I don't think you can handle what I'd do to you."
I tilted my head to slightly loosen his grip, biting the tip of one of his fingers ever so lightly. "You're underestimating me."
I felt Jongho's arms wrap around my waist. I smirked at Yunho, turning away from him and moving Jongho and I towards the bed. I went to lay him down gently, but he had other plans. Suddenly, I was pinned underneath of him. A darkness fell over his face, as well, and I couldn't help get more excited. I wanted them to fuck me into oblivion and I the same to them.
Jongho began to plant kisses all over my body, starting from my head. When he reached my shoulders, he pulled down the dress straps with his teeth. "Turn around and kneel," he demanded. I was so fucking aroused. He unzipped my dress and took it off in one swift movement. This guy's a pro.
I suddenly found myself blocking him from taking off my panties. He looked angry and I smirked. "Not so fast, baby, you should savour the moment." I glanced behind him, noticing Yunho watching us hungrily. He licked his lips and stood up to join us. He tried to take off my panties too, but failed. "My, my. You're so impatient."
I loved seeing them become more aggravated the more I teased. I could tell they wanted to devour me and it was almost time to let them.
I finished undressing, then grabbed both of their pants at the hips and pulled them towards me. "Take them off." I commanded.
"I refuse." Yunho teased.
I laughed, reaching to grab his neck. "You can't do that."
"Seems like someone's a bit of a hypocrite. You need to wait a little longer."
The next few minutes were a blur and before I knew it, I was deepthroating Yunho while Jongho fucked me from behind.
"Fuck," Jongho said between thrusts, "you feel so good, baby."
I paused with Yunho for a moment, and giggled, "I know I do." I continued rubbing my hands along his cock, inserting random licks on the tip every few strokes. "Yunho, babe, what do you want me to do to you?"
"I-" he whimpered, being so entranced by the pleasure he could barely speak, "fuck- I want to feel you, too."
Jongho gave a final thrust with a loud moan. "Hyung," he smirked, "she's all yours. I want to watch for a bit."
Something about Jongho watching as his best friend fucked me was extremely hot.
Yunho had me face him with my legs over his shoulders. I propped myself up on my elbows so I could watch him pound into me. "Yunho," I groaned, "holy fuck, you're so-" he hit the spot perfectly, "Fuck!" I screamed. I didn't realize how loud I was getting, but hearing Yunho match my moans just made me want to get even louder. He grabbed one of my arms and forced me to choke him.
"I want you to take all of me," he begged. I took that as my sign to show dominance. I flipped him over so I was now the one on top. He gripped my wrist hard, making sure to keep my hand around his neck. The more he moaned, the faster I rode him. "Come for me," I said.
"Yes, baby- fuck!"
He kept getting louder and louder until he orgasmed. His body was shaking so intensely that I nearly thought he was convulsing.
"Holy fuck," he exhaled, "where did you learn to do that?"
"I'm just a natural," I winked. I kissed him gently, then slowly raised myself up off of him.
"Jongho," I called. His eyes were full of lust. Consuming that pleasurable experience with his eyes left him wanting more. "Come taste me."
Without hesitation, he hovered over me and trailed kisses down to my clit. I moaned, gripping the sheets. "Baby, that feels so good."
"You taste amazing," he exclaimed. He continued swirling his tongue on me, pushing me closer to the edge.
"Don't stop, I'm going to come."
Just then, I felt two fingers slip inside me. I saw that Yunho had joined to finish me. He continued to finger my g-spot while Jongho sucked my clit. "Fuck," I inhaled sharply, beginning to feel my body convulse with immense pleasure. I let out one final, loud moan as I reached my climax.
"That was... incredible." I grinned, the boys falling on their back beside me.
"I've never been fucked so good," Yunho admitted, nuzzling his head into the nape of my neck.
"I could never top this," Jongho laughed, turning to spoon me from the side.
"I mean," I started, glancing at both of them, "I'm down to do this again."
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mamaestapa · 2 years
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Welcome to the Jungle|| Joe Burrow x reader (Series Masterlist)
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•summary: Y/N Y/L/N moved to Cincinnati, Ohio for a new start. Move in day arrives and she discovers something terrible...the apartment complex gave her the wrong lease. Instead of living with who she originally was supposed to, she's now living with the hottest quarterback in the NFL, Joe Burrow. Y/N is stuck living in the same apartment with him for a year...which the two are not thrilled about. However, as time goes on, they realize that maybe this wasn't the worst thing that could happen to them. Will Y/N and Joe stay enemies, or will they find themselves falling in love?
•warnings: language, alcohol, slow-burn, jealousy, lots of angst and lots of fluff, smut, pregnancy, will add to this in more detail as the story progresses!
•chapters: 21/21
!IMPORTANT NOTE!
this is MY story from wattpad!! i’m transferring it over to tumblr as a Joe x reader instead of the Joe x OC that it is on my wattpad account. i do however want to make a statement that my account on wattpad IS under a DIFFERENT name!! however, it is still me. for a while, i never thought i would introduce my wattpad stuff to tumblr and vice versa, but i saw there’s a lot of stuff about joe on here, so i figured i’d share my work from wattpad with everyone! i’m under a fake name on tumblr for privacy reasons, but now that i’m “combining” accounts in a way, i will share my real name. you can continue to refer to me as abigail or as brooke. either is just fine! :)
chapters:
chapter one
•chapter summary: You arrive in Cincinnati and sign your lease to your new apartment
chapter two
•chapter summary: You move into your new apartment and meet your roommate—which ends up being quite the surprise
chapter three
•chapter summary: You’ve been living with Joe for a week now, how have things been going? While you relax by the pool, Joe brings over some guests that you didn’t plan on meeting right away…
chapter four
•chapter summary: You take the day to explore downtown Cincinnati. When you get home you find Joe engaging in some activities with a girl….
chapter five
•chapter summary: You attend your first Cincinnati Bengals game (that comes with lots fun and a surprise or two…)
chapter six
•chapter summary: You and Joe go back and forth doing things that bother one another and you get a surprise gym buddy ;)
chapter seven
•chapter summary: Groupchat with Joe and the guys
chapter eight
•chapter summary: There’s a storm in Cincinnati and you and Joe realize maybe the other isn’t so bad after all…
chapter nine
•chapter summary: You and Joe enjoy a morning together that gets ruined by an argument. Joe tries to make it up to you, but you have other plans
chapter ten
•chapter summary: You come home from your date with Evan feeling guilty and Joe, well, Joe makes a mistake and doesn’t know what he’s feeling
chapter eleven
•chapter summary: Joe struggles at practice and seeks advice from his teammates, then he comes home to a nice surprise…
chapter twelve
•chapter summary: Time skip! You and Joe decorate the apartment for Christmas! Fast forward a few weeks to Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and a couple days after Christmas…a lot happens. And what happens when Joe finds out you met someone while he was back home?
chapter thirteen
•chapter summary: Joe comes up with a plan to get Jake away from you…but does it work?
chapter fourteen
•chapter summary: You go to the playoff game Joe wanted you to come to. While you’re there, you reminisce on the last few months and figure out your true feelings for Joe…
chapter fifteen
•chapter summary: You and Joe confess your love for one another and share a very intimate moment after the Bengals win…(CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT!)
chapter sixteen
•chapter summary: You and Joe have a very important conversation the morning after your post game rendezvous
chapter seventeen
•chapter summary: You and Joe go Instagram official
chapter eighteen
•chapter summary: It’s the day of the AFC championship game. Joe has some sweet surprises for you and you meet Joe’s parents for the first time. However, the night doesn’t end the way you hoped it would…but at least you and Joe have each other.
chapter nineteen
•chapter summary: Off-season adventures shown off through an instagram photo dump
chapter twenty
•chapter summary: It’s just a few weeks away from the start of a new NFL season and you and Joe have a day full of surprises that will change your lives forever
chapter twenty-one
•chapter summary: You move into your new home with Joe and reminisce on all that has happened to you this past year. You finally get your happily ever after
epilogue
•chapter summary: Instagram posts and stories from the past nine months of yours and Joe's life. A great way to wrap up the end of this series❤️
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It’ll Be Our Little Secret (Hiccup x Reader) (Smut)
Author's Note: Hey! Hope you're ready to read a very steamy AND long 'Hiccup x Reader' fanfic. This was originally posted on Wattpad, but it kind of flopped. So I thought I would shoot my shot over here instead (since, from my understanding, people go a little crazier for smuts over here). Also, English isn't my first language so please excuse me if it isn't grammatically correct, or a sentence isn't built up right.
Short Summary: You have a crush on Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, Chief of Berk. You can’t think straight. None of the other guys on your island can compare. The only issue is you’re the daughter of (y/f/n), Chief of (y/i/n). Berk’s enemy island. Though your crush on Hiccup only can play out in your fantasy, a knock at your door would change that?
⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains swearing and rough sexual acts. Not suitable for a younger audience!
(y/i/n) = your island´s name
Words: 3336
(I don't own any of the GIFs)
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Your pov:
Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third. Not really a popular name around here. Even though you didn't have anything against him personally, your islands wasn't really on good terms. This all started long before you were even born, so you didn't really know the exact reason as to why you hated each other so much. But you were taught that "anything from the island of Berk is equal to horse shit", and so your opinion remained... sort of.
After Stoick's death Hiccup inherited the title, which made him more of a foe in your eyes. Compared to him "just" being the Chief's son. Still you couldn't help but find him... attractive. Hey! You're a 18 year old girl. Boys starts to look quite appealing at this age. And after all he's kind of the only guy, around your age, you've meet frequently (thanks to your islands fighting each other on a regular basses). When you compared him to the other guys on your island, they're not even close. He's just perfect. Well, everything but his title. You know your "relationship" can only remain in your imagination. It's not really optimal to ask for your father's blessing to marry, the now, Chief of the island we abominate.
-
As you lay in bed, facing the wall, you hear the door open. By having such old doors the squeaking gives away any unwanted surprise visits. You began to wonder who it could be. You've already said your 'goodnights' to your parents before preparing for bed. After a lot of whining, your parents finally let you move in to your own hut. Their only 'but' was to have your hut being surrounded by guards 24/7. They didn't want to take any risks with everything that was happening at this island. But you didn't mind. You actually liked when they informed you who was approaching, even if it was your mother. It felt like you could have the privacy you wanted by moving out. That's why it's even more strange that non of the guards had told you about the guest that was now on their way inside your house.
You turned around and jumped as you saw who decided to give you a visit. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. What is he doing here? Isn't this the foremost guy they're suppose to make sure isn't strolling around the village? "I need to have a little talk to them about this" you thought as you rolled your eyes. But they quickly went back to the unwelcomed guest. "Uh, may I ask why you're in my hut?" you asked, rather confused as to why he hasn't tried to kill you yet. Hiccup dropped all his potential weapons on the ground before approaching you. Even the tiny dagger on one of his bracers was now laying a few meters from your bed. You watched him rather doubtful, wondering 'what the fuck is he doing?'. "I'm not here to hurt you" he said calmly before standing in front of your bed, "No weapons on me, so I hope you haven't got any either". Should I make a run for it? My parents´s hut is just a few meters away. If he catch up with me I've at least tried. Before you could make up your mind if you should take a chance or not he started petting the empty space beside you on the bed, not really trusting you no matter what your answer would be.
He soon went over to you, sticking his hands underneath the blanket and petting you from the thighs up to your neck, making sure you wasn't hiding any knifes underneath your clothes. "No weapons... and no panties either" you slapped him across the face. "What the hell are you doi-" you yelled out, but got cut off as Hiccup slam his hand over your mouth "Shh! Don't yell, someone could hear you!". You gave him the look that said 'duh, that's the point' and he let's go of your mouth. He continued "I want to make sure you aren't armed either. I just want to.... talk". You looked at him rather confused "What could you possibly want to talk to me about? How it is to be an only child of a Chief?" you joked, which allowed Hiccup to chuckle. "Maybe I phrased that wrong, but you'll see what I came here to do" he said while giving you a smirk. I swear to the gods, he's flirting with me.
"Let me just remove this to make sure you aren't hidding something first" Hiccup started to pull up your nightgown. He got to about your waist before you grabbed his hands, making him stop. The thought of him seeing you so bare, even if not in a sexual context, made you anxious. You looked inside his emerald green eyes, as if to find something that would tell you what to do. You've never been this close to him before, so this was your opportunity to scan his face for the first time. He had a few freckles, a scar on his chin, and what seem to be the early stage of a beard-growth. Without even thinking you placed your hand against his cheek, caressing it as Hiccup leaned in. As soon as you noticed you quickly snatched back your hand. Hiccup tugged at your dress again, as if to ask if it's okay. You raised your arms, making the progress of removing your nightgown a lot easier for him. Something about his face had made you calmer. Your nipples harden, reacting to the low temperature as he toss the piece of clothing at the floor. He looked at them in admiration but also noticed the necklace your father gave you, showing which island you belong to. "Can I touch them?" Hiccup asks as he push your hair back, allowing him to get a better view of your bare chest. "Only if I can remove these first" you answer, referring to his bracers. He nodded, thinking it's a fare trade. Hiccup watched your concentrated face as you loosen it up, eventually sliding it off. He tugged a strand of hair behind your ear with his, now bare hand as you worked on the other one.
You caress your hands over his body, admiring the armor that always seemed to turned you on so much. You would lie if you said you haven't thought of how it would feel grinding your naked body against it. Feel the leather and metal against your wet folds. The thought would help you when you were alone in bed, having some 'me'-time. Even though you wish he could keep it on, you helped Hiccup remove the upper part of his armor, leaving him shirtless. "Now we're even" you teased. He looked at you, grinning. Hiccup grabbed your breasts which made you gasp just by the touch. As he began to massage them you let out a few proper moans. "Are you a virgin?", you looked up at him, thinking "how rude" wondering why on earth he needed to know that. "You react quite intense at just the small amount of pleasure I'm giving you now. Virgins usually reacts quite hard at any sort of sexual stimulation, so that's why I asked". He seemed to notice your concerned face since he quickly filled in with "-but that's not bad" the panic was vibrant in his voice "It's actually very excitative". You nodded, answering his previous question. Hiccup flickered his tongue at both of your nipples, earning more moans from you. He went down your stomach, leaving sloppy kisses on his way there, keeping his eyes locked with yours. As he looked at you, seductively, you couldn't help but feel like this is wrong. This could ruin your family's name for generations if it would ever come out. Should I stop? Hiccup would stop if you asked him to, but the question is 'do I want it to stop?' After all, this is what you've been dreaming of. The senators you've made up in your head in order to get yourself off is actually happening. No way you're going to ruin this shot. Hiccup went up to your face again, this time only a few centimeters gap. You let out a shaky breath, starting to sweat just by the looks he gave you. Yep, this is really happening.
"Got any hidden weapons in here?" Hiccup asked, pulling at your underwear. You shrugged, acting stupid, really intrigued to see what he would do. "Well, I better inspect it" he teased before shoving his hand down your underwear. You gasped, feeling his slender fingers being so close to your core. He laughed as he felt the wetness you've already developed. "You really get turned on by this" he teased before removing your panties and threw them across the room. As your legs went down you squeezed your thighs together, feeling a bit self conscious again. Hiccup noticed "No, open up for me, princess. No need to act all shy now" he parted your legs, keeping some weight on your thighs to prevent you from pressing them together again. You, realizing this instead took your hands and covered the most private part. But Hiccup didn't let that get unnoticed, "Ah-ah" he said in a warning tone as he slapped your hand away. When he finally got to see all of you, he took a step back just to admire it. "You're so beautiful (y/n). I swear your a gift from the gods". You smiled at his generous words, trying your best not to blush too hard.
He massaged your thighs while moving his hands closer to your throbbing pussy. "You're basically dripping. I never knew you had a thing for me" he joked while looking down, between your legs. "You have no idea" you admitted. He looked up at you, not expecting that answer, "Well, then I'm not the only one who'll enjoy this". Hiccup dragged two fingers along your entrance, scooping up some of your wetness and brought it to his mouth. He licked his fingers clean, having full on eye contact with you as he does. Hiccup raised up from the bed, pulling down his trousers. Your eyes widen as you looked at his hard cock slapping against his stomach. Getting a bit worried about the penetration-bit. He seem to notice and went right in front of your bed, picking you up so you were on your knees by the edge of your bed. Knowing you're a virgin, Hiccup thought you might get less nervous if you get to feel him first. He grabbed you by the wrists, and dragged your hands over his body, starting by the shoulders going down to his chest. He moved your hands down past his bellybutton. When you began to feel his pubs you quickly went down to his thighs instead, not feeling ready to touch him there, just yet. Hiccup's breathing quicken as you worked your hands over his thighs, which intrigued you to go closer and closer to his area. You really wanted to hear him moan. Oh, how many times you've tried to imagine what sounds he makes. You saw his cock twitch as you came closer. He threw his head back, let out an extracted moan as you took him in your hand and began to jerk him off. He traced your other hand to his chest again. You continued till you reached his hair, tugging at his braids. You watched as he hummed at the new sensation while tighten his grip around your wrist. You pumped him harder, milking him on his moans. "T-that's... enough" Hiccup said, breathing heavily.
He pushed you down on the bed as he crawled up your body. He smirked, "Don't worry, I'll fill you up in a second" he said as he positioned himself at your entrance. You whined as he pushed his cock inside you slowly, while holding the back of your head. "You're doing so good, princess. You're being such a good girl" Hiccup said, not being able to hide his moans as your tightness surround his cock. You balled the sheets in your fists as he continued to push till he's fully in. He stayed in that position for a bit, both for you to adjust to his size, but also due to him not cumming straight away. After some reassuring Hiccup began to slide in and out of you, keeping the pace rather slow, not wanting to hurt you. "It doesn't get better" you said through clinged teeth. You've heard the first time would be quite painful, but not for this long. "Hold on, it'll be better soon, I promise" Hiccup reassured you while keeping the low pace. He caressed your cheek while kissing your neck, hoping it would help you to get used to it if you got something else to focus on. It helped. As soon you asked Hiccup to go a bit faster the pace soon increased.
Hiccup rested one of your legs on his shoulder, giving him better excess. He rammed into your body with such speed. You cried out Hiccup's name as he groaned while listening to you saying his name like that. You turned your head to the side, almost embarrassed to look at Hiccup. You didn't know why, but you felt as if you weren't allowed to look at him. He noticed and grabbed you by the chin, turning your head straight "Look at me while you let the enemy fuck your tight, virgin pussy!" he spat. You tightened around him at his words. "Huh? You like it when I fuck you like this? Knowing that Berk's Chief's cock is inside you. And know that with ever thrust, you abandon your people more *thrust* and more". You whined out in pleasure as he spoke to you. He smiled when he saw what effect his words had on you, "You like it, don't you?" you nodded intensely. He bent forward, grabbing you by the neck as he whispered in your ear "You've never let anyone get to feel you like this. But I didn't even have to ask before you spread your legs for me, like the little whore you are. What would the people of (y/i/n) say if they saw you now? Whimper as you let me take advantage of you. I don't think your father would be proud to..." Hiccup traced his fingertip over the charm of your necklace "...see you act like such a whore for me". "Tell me you're mine" he demanded. You were a breathing mess, really affected by Hiccup's dialogue. "I-I'm y-" you couldn't even finish the sentence before a moan interrupted you. "Say it!" he bayed, tighten his grip around your neck. "I-I'm yours, Hiccup. I'm your dirty little whore" you pled out. Hiccup smirked "Good girl. Finally one of (y/i/n)'s people can follow an order".
He pulled out, which made you look down. His cock was coated with your cum and a hint of blood. "Turn around" he demand, you raised up slowly as your whole body felt like jello. As you turned around Hiccup slammed your head against the mattress while your ass was high up. He traced his hand up your back to your waist, sending shivers down your spine. He took a firm grip on your fat before shoving his cock back into your pussy, making you screamed. Luckily the pillow muffed most of your sounds. "Oh, (y/n). You can't imagine how long I've been wanting to do this" Hiccup whines out while pounding into you. Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. He'd thought about you too? He continues to fuck you, keeping the same pace the whole time before slowing down, allowing you both to catch your breath. "Let's keep that other hole busy, too" Hiccup said while bending down towards his pants, picking up something. You tried to see what it was, but with no success. "With what?" your curiosity took over as Hiccup spat down your ass in lack of lube. "The back of my inferno. Let's see how much you can take" he said before pushing it slowly in your asshole. You winced at the cold metal entering you. You had to bite the side of your pillow in order to not scream while your untouched hole slowly got stretched out. "H-hiccup I... I can't take..." you plead out, feeling so filled up while still having Hiccup's cock in you, too. "Aw, sure you can" he pushed in the rest till you felt the cold metal of the dragon head around your opening. "See! You could fit the whole thing" Hiccup said proudly, petting your back while still slightly pushing the dragon head so the handle wouldn't slip out.
You tried to catch your breath. The feeling of both your holes being penetrated at the same time felt amazing. But when Hiccup picked up the same speed as before you could barely take it. You were moaning so loud you were surprised non of the guards came in to check what's going on. The pleasure mixed with Hiccup moaning your name made you so wet you could feel it dripping down your thigh. Every time Hiccup would slam his hips against you, you would be reminded of the handle as it was being push back in you. You continued your highly verbal way of showing how much pleasure you're feeling. Until Hiccup grabbed you by the neck, pressing your back against his chest and cover your mouth "I really appreciate your little orchestra, princess. But we can't risk anyone finding us, right?". You nod your head, while Hiccup keep his hand on your mouth. Even tough you've changed position the speed remind the same. You got to give it to him for keeping up the pace for so long. Hiccup's other hand went down to rubbing your clit, but you quickly slapped it away. "Overstimulated" you mumbled against Hiccup's hand, but he seemed to have heard it since the feedback of his work left a smirk on his face. He grabbed your necklace and swirled it around his fist. You felt the charm against your neck as Hiccup firmly chocked you.
He buried his face against the side of your head, his mouth lining up perfectly to your ear allowing you to hear every little sound Hiccup made. You felt your orgasm around the corner as your legs began to shake even more. "Hiccup-" "Shh, shh, I know. I'm close too". He made sure to thrust hard into you as your orgasm approach. You scream in Hiccup's hand as you came. He moaned higher, getting even closer to his own release while seeing you in this state. Your body was twitching in Hiccup's arms as he held you while still fucking you. He then threw you on your back as he hovered over you and jerked himself to his climax. He came on you, covering your stomach with his warm cum as he screamed out your name as loud as he could without the guards noticing it. He let himself fall beside you, as you both tried to catch your breath. He turned you on your side so your back was facing him, bending your leg up a bit as he pulled out the inferno sword. You moaned one last time as it exited you. Hiccup dropped it on the floor before he went back to you, making you face him again. He pulled his face closer to yours before saying "It'll be our little secret". Then he went up, pull one of the blankets around him, collecting all his things, and leaves.
You lay there in your bed with Hiccup's cum still on your stomach, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.
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sushirrrry · 4 months
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SURPRISE!!!
for those of you who know me, you know that I am a wattpad writer & got my start writing on that platform. I was a story writer first and foremost, only the past few months have I started to write one-shots, mostly for time management purposes.
however, I've been looking through my works, rereading, reminiscing on everything. that leads us here: I'm reworking and reposting celestial, one of my original stories! this time, a tumblr story.
I've wanted to move off of wattpad for a while, start to dip my feet into a different water, so I figured I would start by finishing celestial but being able to give you guys– some of you who haven't read it– an opportunity with these characters too.
celestial is heartbreaking; it's a plot full of unlikable characters. it's immature, its characters learning about one another and who they are. its a cheating plot. but underneath it all, there's a lot of humanity in it. there's love and there's passion and there's characters that I think need to be hated to be loved. it's a story I love writing and I love to reread.
so, if you'll accept me here, on the two year anniversary of Harry's House, chapter one will be shared tonight! I have really appreciated all the love thus far on everything this community has shared. thank you thank you thank you 🤍 read the summary below!
CELESTIAL
cw: graphic sexual content, course language, adult themes, affair plots, mentions of death and suicide, bullying, outing, conversations of sex and gender identity.
Stella met Harry by accident. Well, some may say the stars aligned that day.
After a troublesome semester of classes, Stella Martin, a psychology student, needs help. She's outgoing, but her anxiety is starting to get the better of her; she's in a relationship that is taking too much of her energy, the parties are becoming more like a lifestyle, and she's really starting to wonder if university is even the right place for her.
When she's placed in a required statistics course, she sits next to a student who is passing with flying colors: Harry Styles, a physics student. Harry is very shy, hoping someone doesn't call on him in class, but he's smart beyond compare and Stella can't help but notice.
As they start to sit next to each other in class, Harry is terrified that Stella will see him for who he really is: a huge nerd with an obsession with constellations, the Triangulum Galaxy, and Star Wars. But, Stella is terrified that Harry will see that she is not good enough... in anything, really.
Stella and Harry aren't looking for anything specific, but in a world where we try so hard to fit in, isn't it nice to know that someone is always right there waiting to pull you in?
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moeitsu · 4 months
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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee
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Ch 16 - The Past Is The Eternal Past
Summary: Kate and Arthur welcome a new life into the world. The scene brings back tender memories of Arthur's past, he finally finds the courage to open up to her about his family.
Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
A/N: So much fluff and feels!! This is day 2 at Emerald ranch, solid 8.3k words. Thanks for being patient with my updates, I know things have started to slow down. I'm hoping that in a few weeks I'll be able to get back to consistently posting again!
Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams
**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!
Story Tags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff
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Arthur drifted into a peaceful slumber, a rarity in the tumult of his existence. It felt as if he had never experienced such peace before, as if the world had paused just for him. Seamus' small ranch house offered no spare room, yet Kate, with her selfless nature, offered to sleep on the couch for Arthur's comfort. But he politely refused, urging her to share the bed with him, a sanctuary meant for two souls to find sleep in each other's embrace.
As they kissed and conversed late into the evening, the storm outside began to wane, its fury subdued by the soothing melody of raindrops dancing upon the roof. Their words mingled with the gentle winds, weaving a blanket of intimacy that cocooned them in warmth. Wrapped in each other's arms, Kate held him close, her embrace a shield against the uncertainties of the night. With his head nestled beneath her chin, Arthur found refuge in her presence, his breathing synchronizing with the rhythm of her heart. And as sleep finally claimed him, she tenderly caressed his hair, her melodic hums blending seamlessly with the whispering wind and the gentle creaks of the old house. The smell of the bath still lingered on his skin, and she could hear his gentle snore, soon Kate found herself slipping into deep sleep.
As the morning sun filtered through the mesh curtains, casting a golden glow into the room, Kate stirred from her slumber. The distant call of roosters heralded the arrival of dawn, their voices resonating loudly in the air. Yet, despite the warmth of the sunlight, a chill swept over her as she realized the space beside her was empty, void of Arthur's presence.
With a languid stretch, Kate rose from the bed, her movements fluid as she dressed herself. She resolved to seek out Arthur, knowing well his penchant for being useful and tackling the early morning chores. She savored a quick breakfast, the aroma of freshly cut strawberries mingling with the crisp morning air, before setting off on her search.
Her footsteps echoed softly in the quietude of the barn, the scent of hay and animals enveloping her in familiarity. And there, amidst the rustic charm of the wooden beams and the soft whinnies of the horses, she found him, just as she had anticipated. But what captured her attention was the tender scene unfolding before her.
Arthur stood beside Dolly, the massive mare, his presence calm and assured. He gently coaxed her to eat from his hand, his other hand gliding smoothly down her snout and neck in a gesture of reassurance. The sunlight streaming through the barn’s wooden slats highlighted the tender scene, casting a warm glow on their interaction. Arthur's voice was a soft murmur, whispering soothing words to the horse, his touch both gentle and firm, embodying a patient strength.
Kate watched in awe, her heart swelling with admiration for Arthur’s ability to connect with the mare. Every movement he made was deliberate, a testament to his respect for the animal. The way Dolly responded, bowing her head and accepting his touch, spoke volumes of the trust he had earned.
A soft smile played on Kate's lips as Dolly greeted her with a friendly nicker, the mare's ears acknowledging her presence with a flick. “Good morning,” Kate called to them, her voice breaking the serene silence of the barn. “Seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you.” She stepped into the stall, her gaze fixed on Arthur.
“Mornin’ sweetheart,” Arthur greeted her, enveloping her in a warm embrace as he wrapped an arm around her waist and placed a lingering peck on her lips. They tasted like his morning coffee. His touch was filled with affection, and Kate blushed, the warmth spreading from her cheeks to her chest—a sensation she was still getting used to.
Kate leaned into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck as she stretched up to meet him. “Was a tad surprised I woke to an empty bed this mornin’,” she whispered teasingly, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief. Tipping his hat back slightly to give herself better access to his features.
Arthur grinned at her insinuation, his deep blue eyes filled with admiration. “I’d love nothin’ more than to lay in all day kissin’ a pretty lady,” he said in a low, tender voice. With a soft sigh, he added, “But there’s work to be done. ‘Sides, I think Miss Dolly here is havin’ her baby today.”
Kate’s brows shot up in surprise, and she turned from his arms to evaluate Dolly’s condition. Sure enough, the mare was showing early signs of labor. Her belly contracted softly, and milk leaked from her teats. “Well, I’ll be,” she said quietly, a smile spreading across her cheeks as she rubbed the mare's belly affectionately. “You ever delivered a foal before, Arthur?”
Arthur’s grin widened, a mix of excitement and apprehension in his eyes. “Can’t say I have, but I reckon there’s a first time for everything,” he replied, rolling up his sleeves. “Guess I’m in for a lesson today.”
Kate chuckled softly, her hand still gently rubbing Dolly’s belly. “I’ve done it a few times, long ago back on my family’s farm. We just need to keep her calm and be ready to help when the time comes.”
Arthur nodded, his expression serious yet eager. “I’ll follow your lead, then.”
The two of them worked quietly together, their actions synchronized as if they had been doing this together for years. They took turns feeding the other barn animals their breakfast, ensuring they had fresh water and clean stalls. The morning was filled with the soft sounds of munching hay, clucking chickens, and the occasional grunt from the pigs as they discovered fresh mud puddles left by the storm.
Periodically, they checked on Dolly’s progress, making sure she was comfortable as her labor advanced. Each time Arthur approached the mare, he spoke to her in soothing tones, his hands gentle and warm. Kate watched him with admiration, her heart swelling with affection for this man who had become her partner.
They exchanged smiles and glances as they worked, falling into a rhythm that felt as natural as the breeze blowing around them. The storm had left the grasses glistening with dew, the air fresh and crisp. Sunlight filtered through the barn’s open doors, casting warm, golden patches on the ground.
As the afternoon approached, they sat together on a wooden crate outside of Dolly’s stall, sharing a simple meal of bread, cheese, and apples. The air was filled with the scent of fresh hay and the earthy aroma of the barn. Kate leaned back against the barn, her eyes half-closed as she enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her face.
“This feels good,” Kate said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. “Sittin’ here with you, takin’ care of things. Feels right, don’t it?”
Arthur turned to her, his smile soft and genuine. “Makes me wish we could do this every day,” he chuckled, taking a bite of his apple.
Kate could hear the subtle longing in his tone. Arthur craved a simple life, yearning for it amidst the chaos of his existence. His situation was unique, tangled in a web of crime and infamy that made it impossible to simply run away and start anew. He was wanted in every state, raised on a life of crime and rebellion. Kate knew it wouldn't be easy to break him from that cycle, but she hoped this was a start. Sowing the seeds of domesticity and honest living into his heart, she dared to dream that one day he might leave the gang and take the reins of his own life.
Arthur gazed out over the plains, watching the horses and cows grazing peacefully. The sight seemed to soothe him, the simplicity of the scene a stark contrast to the life he led. Kate watched him, admiring the way his side profile was illuminated in the afternoon glow. The sun cast a warm, golden light on his rugged features, highlighting the sweat glistening on his cheeks. His eyes, shadowed by the brim of his old leather hat, were filled with a longing.
Kate let her thoughts drift, imagining a life where they could find peace together. She envisioned a small farm, nestled in a quiet valley, where they could wake up each morning to the sound of birdsong and the gentle rustling of leaves. She pictured Arthur working the fields, taking care of the animals and while she maintained their home. Daring to dream of a family again, perhaps even children someday, she thought. She shook her head at the idea, getting ahead of herself. But in the back of her mind, they lived a life of simple pleasures.
Kate reached out and placed her hand on Arthur’s arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. “Maybe one day, we will,” she said softly.
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The sun was kissing the horizon as Dolly eased herself down into the soft hay, finding a comfortable spot to lie on her side as her instincts took over. The mare's heavy breaths mingled with the sounds of the barn, creating an atmosphere of anticipation and gentle urgency. Kate and Arthur remained close by, their presence a comforting reassurance for the laboring mare.
Kate settled near Dolly's head, her fingers moving soothingly along the mare's neck. She whispered calming words, her touch gentle, ensuring Dolly felt secure. The warmth of the barn and the scent of fresh hay enveloped them, creating a cocoon of calm amidst the imminent arrival.
Arthur leaned against the wall of the stable near Dolly's rear, his eyes focused and attentive. Ready to inform Kate the moment the foal's feet appeared, he prepared himself to leap into action when Dolly showed signs of struggle. The tension in the air was thick, a mixture of concern and excitement as they awaited the new life about to enter the world.
Kate’s voice, calm and steady, broke through the quiet hum of the barn. “When the foal’s legs are out past the first joint, grab hold and tug gently,” she instructed. “But only when Dolly pushes. We don’t want to hurt her or cause any tears. Just enough to help the baby along.”
Arthur nodded, leaning down on one knee, his hands steady and ready, heart pounding with anticipation. He admired Kate’s calm authority, her knowledge and experience guiding them through the moment. His respect for her deepened.
A memory crossed Arthur’s mind, transporting him back four years ago to when Abigail had gone into labor with Jack. The scene was etched vividly in his heart. Arthur knew he could never make up for missing the birth of his own son, so when little Jack came along, he resolved to support Abigail in every way he could. John’s refusal to accept the child as his own infuriated Arthur. It angered him that John wouldn't even step in to help Abigail in her time of need.
He recalled how the girls had spoken softly and encouragingly to Abigail, their voices a lifeline amidst the pain. It was much like how Kate now spoke to Dolly, a soothing murmur that went beyond species, connecting mother to mother. The memory of Abigail’s grip on his hands, fierce and unyielding with each contraction, came flooding back. Arthur had known then that Abigail was far stronger than she ever let on. Her cries and grunts had filled the night, and Arthur had been there, wiping the sweat from her brow, rubbing her back and even holding back her legs when exhaustion threatened to consume her. It was an experience that solidified his connection to the girls, he was and always will be their protector. 
A profound guilt gnawed at him when he thought about what Eliza must have gone through, alone. The thought of her enduring the pain of childbirth without him there to support her was a wound that never fully healed. But that feeling had been momentarily washed away the moment Jack took his first breath, followed by a triumphant cry as if announcing, “here I am, world!”
Arthur remembered the overwhelming rush of emotions that had washed over him as he left the tent to give the new mother some privacy, but also to hide his empathy. Silent tears had flowed freely, a mixture of joy for Jack’s healthy birth and sorrow for the child he had forsaken.
The minutes stretched on, each one filled with the soft sounds of Dolly’s labor and the reassuring presence of her human companions. The barn was a world unto itself, a sanctuary where the outside ceased to exist. It was just them, Dolly, and the new life beginning to make its entrance.
As Dolly pushed, Arthur saw the tiny hooves begin to emerge. “Kate, I see them,” he called softly, his voice laced with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
Kate moved slightly, her focus sharpening. “Alright, Arthur. Remember, only when she pushes.”
With careful precision, Arthur followed Kate’s instructions, his hands grasping the foal’s legs gently. He waited for Dolly’s next contraction, feeling the tension in the air heighten. When the mare strained, he pulled gently, his movements synchronized with her efforts. The foal's legs felt incredibly tiny and fragile in his hands.
Time seemed to slow as they worked together, a seamless dance of trust and cooperation. Dolly’s powerful contractions and Arthur’s careful assistance brought the foal further into the world with every moment. Kate continued her soothing ministrations, her voice a constant source of comfort for the laboring mare. She guided Arthur through her contractions, telling him when to stop pulling and when to grab further up the body as it slowly came into the light. 
Finally, with a final, triumphant push, the foal slid free, landing in the soft hay. Steam rising from its warm wet body as it blinked its large blue eyes for the first time. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat as he marveled at the tiny, fragile creature now lying before them. Kate moved quickly, joining beside Arthur as her hands helped clear the foal’s airways and stimulated its breathing.
Dolly turned her head, her large eyes filled with maternal instinct and curiosity. Kate guided the foal closer to her, ensuring the bond between mother and baby was immediate and strong. The foal, a beautiful chestnut brown with a black mane and light blue eyes, shared the distinctive white stripe down his snout with his mama. As he nuzzled against Dolly, searching for his first meal, Kate and Arthur exchanged a glance filled with shared joy and pride.
Arthur couldn't take his eyes off the tender scene before them. Wiping his dirty hands on his jeans, he sank back down into the hay, releasing a satisfied exhale. “I reckon he’s gonna be a fine young colt someday,” he said with a smile. “We’ll have to come visit him when he’s older.”
Kate giggled softly and slid down to sit by his side, their arms brushing together. She leaned her head gently on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence. “Oh absolutely,” she agreed, her voice filled with affection. “You wanna name him?”
“Me?” Arthur’s voice raised with a hint of surprise.
“Well, you are the one who delivered him,” Kate assured, her eyes twinkling with encouragement.
Arthur thought for a moment, his mind wandered to the nights he spent recovering, when the fever ravaged his body. He recalled the night Jack had read to him, a story of adventure and friendship that had brought him comfort during those long, painful nights. A smile crept onto his lips as the perfect name called to him. “How ‘bout Huckleberry?” he suggested, his voice soft and thoughtful.
Kate’s eyes lit up. “Huckleberry,” she repeated, tasting the name on her tongue. “I love it. It suits the little guy.” She grinned from ear to ear, memories of Jack’s kindness during Arthur’s time of need made her heart surge with warmth. Especially since Arthur remembered the moment too.
Arthur’s smile widened, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. “Good ol’ Huck,” he said, wrapping an arm around Kate. They watched the little foal as he suckled contentedly. His tiny black tail swishing reverently. “He’s gonna be a brave one, ‘specially if he takes after his ma.” He chuckled.
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As evening settled upon Emerald Ranch, the golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky, casting a gentle glow over the fields and buildings. The ranch was tranquil, the storm's remnants now only a memory. Kate and Arthur worked side by side, diligently completing the day's chores to ensure everything was in proper order for Seamus and his family’s return the following morning.
They mucked out the stalls together, the sounds of their shovels mixing with the soft murmurs of the animals. Arthur's returning strength and Kate's efficiency made the work go quickly, their coordination spoke volumes of their growing bond. They fed the animals, the barn filling with contented munching and occasional snorts. The simple tasks brought a sense of normalcy and domesticity. Kate hummed a tune and Arthur whistled quietly as the two worked together. 
With the chores done, they found themselves back in Dolly’s stall, the heart of their day’s labor. The soft light from the lanterns cast a warm glow on the new family, highlighting the tender scene before them. Dolly lay in the hay, her eyes half-closed in contentment as she watched over her newborn foal. Huckleberry, the beautiful chestnut filly with his striking blue eyes, was beginning to explore his surroundings. Sniffing about and attempting to stand on his skinny legs.
Kate and Arthur settled down in the hay once more, their shoulders touching as they sat close together. The warmth of Arthur's body was comforting against the coolness of the night. Kate leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the foal with shared anticipation. 
“Look at him,” Kate whispered, her voice filled with awe. “He’s so full of life.”
Arthur hummed quietly in agreement, his hand resting gently on Kate’s thigh. His thumb traced lazy, comforting patterns over the fabric, grounding him as he watched the tender scene before him. Huckleberry wobbled, his little knees buckling under the weight as he adjusted to standing on solid ground for the first time.
With a gentle nudge from Dolly, the foal stood up proudly, his legs straightening as his mother’s large snout supported him. Kate held her breath, her eyes filled with hope and encouragement. When Huckleberry took his first tentative steps, only to plop back into the hay with a soft grunt, she chuckled warmly. “Keep tryin’, Huck, you’ll get there,” she quietly encouraged.
Arthur was transported to another time, another life. He thought of Isaac and the milestones he had missed. Eliza had been kind enough to write to him about their son's progress, telling him how Isaac had taken his first steps and would soon be running around the house. She had always ended her letters with a plea for Arthur to visit them, to stay. Her hope and prayers that he might one day choose to abandon his life of crime weighed heavily on him now, adding to the regret that he carried.
The tenderness of the moment with Kate and the foal stirred something deep within him. He felt an overwhelming need to share his burdens with the one person he felt truly understood him. Perhaps Hosea’s words held some truth. Kate had remained by his side through the worst, and this moment felt right. 
Arthur’s heart pounded relentlessly in his chest as he mustered the strength. “Kate,” he began softly, shifting his position so he could look her in the eye. “I had a son.”
Kate’s eyes widened slightly in shock at the sudden news. Arthur drew a shaky breath and continued, “He passed away, long time ago.”
Kate gently took his hand, her expression shifted to one of deep sympathy and understanding “Oh Arthur, I’m so sorry for your loss.” She was inclined to believe there was more to this outlaw than meets the eye, his gentle and reserved nature foreshadowing a past similar to her own. The loss of a child connected them in ways she could not have imagined, and her heart ached for the man she was only beginning to discover.
“I know I shoulda told ya sooner. It’s just—” he hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “It’s just hard to talk about them sometimes.”
Kate nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “You told me when you felt it was right, Arthur. I know it’s probably been on your mind now for some time.” She thought of all the times she had talked about her daughter with him, knowing now that he must’ve been thinking of his own child in those moments. Unsure how to tell her of his own loss, she knew it must've scarred him deeply. Arthur nodded quietly.
Understanding washed over her, and she suddenly grasped the depth of the bond between Arthur and Jack. Abigail trusted Arthur with her son because he once had a son, and he had extended that parental love to his nephew. He sees his son in Jack, and Kate knew from their first interaction that he had a protective aura that only a father could provide.
“That must have been very hard for you and Mary,” she continued softly, moving her hand to his cheek. Her touch was warm and soft, it eased his wounded heart.
Arthur leaned into her touch, closing his eyes with a sigh. He knew he couldn't talk about Isaac without mentioning Eliza. “No, he wasn’t Mary’s kid,” he began, his eyes searching hers for understanding. “It was a different girl. Met her in a bar one night, and next thing you know...” He shrugged his shoulders, he knew it was taboo to have a child with a one-night stand but Kate made no judgment. “But she passed away too.”
“What are their names?” Kate asked gently, surprising Arthur with her question. She didn’t ask how they died, and he was grateful. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to relive that part of his past yet. Talking about them as if they were still around eased his heart.
“Eliza and Isaac,” Arthur breathed the names like a prayer on his lips. “I don’t much like talkin’ about them. The grief, I still don’t understand it. Even after all these years.” His voice was thick with emotion, the weight of his loss pressing down on him like a heavy shroud.
Kate nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. “Grief ain’t meant to be understood,” she said softly. “It’s meant to be felt, lived through, and carried with us. It shapes us, but it doesn’t have to define us.”
Arthur chuckled dryly, a bitter edge to his laughter. “Wish I had that wisdom sooner. Their deaths hardened me, turned me into a man I couldn’t recognize.” His gaze drifted away from her, shame creeping into his belly as memories of his drinking and fits of rage swam back to the surface. He remembered the nights he spent at the bottom of a bottle, trying to drown out the pain, and the mornings he woke up with fists clenched, ready to fight the world.
Kate’s light laughter pulled him from his dark thoughts, like a soothing melody. “Death hardened me too. I mean, take one look and tell me. Do I still look like a picturesque housewife to you? Certainly not.” She chuckled, a sound so full of life and resilience it made Arthur’s heart ache. It mattered not how proper she looked to the rest of the world, to him she was just perfect. 
���I miss my family dearly, but nothin’ I do will bring ‘em back. So I just keep movin’ forward, trying to do right by them, be a good person for their sake,” she added, a small reassuring smile spreading across her lips. “But you know, it wasn't always like that,” her eyes glimmered with a mix of sorrow and conviction, the strength of a woman who had faced unimaginable loss and emerged stronger for it.
Arthur was in awe of the way she could talk about death and grief, turning it into something positive. To take the torment and break it like a bad horse, polishing it down to what it really was: love. His grief and regret may have looked ugly on the surface, but beneath it all, it was an overwhelming love with nowhere to go. Kate had found a way to channel her love into something beautiful, a tribute to those she had lost.
“How did you do it?” Arthur asked quietly, his thumb tracing the knuckles of her hand, seeking solace in her touch. His voice was a whisper, filled with the raw vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. 
Kate sighed softly, her eyes reflecting the depth of her own pain and resilience. “Well, it wasn’t easy,” she began. Arthur recalled the night she had shared her past with him, the way her voice trembled with rage and agony as she recounted the woman she had chosen to leave behind. The woman who had faced unimaginable loss and yet stood before him, stronger than ever. “I struggled on my own for a long time. And even when I thought things were getting better, grief would sneak up on me once again.”
Arthur listened intently, his heart aching for the pain she had endured, a pain that they now shared. He could see the flicker of old wounds in her eyes, the shadows of memories that still haunted her. But there was also a strength that shone through the darkness.
Kate continued, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “Eventually, I learned that it can’t hurt me, so I stopped fighting it. I let it come. I feel that pain, but I don’t let it take hold of me.” She paused, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that made his breath catch. “I let it wash over me, and then I let it go. Because I know that the love I have, the love I’ve lost, it’s all a part of me. And I had the choice to do something good with it.”
Arthur nodded, absorbing her words. “I carry a lot of regret with me,” he admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his past. “I wish I knew how to feel it without it taking hold of me.”
“It’s a form of self-punishment, Arthur,” Kate said softly. “You can either suffer the pain of regret, or learn from your past and move forward from it.”
He looked at her with hopeful eyes, each flicker of self-doubt met with her unwavering reassurance. Her words gave him a sense of peace and clarity he had longed for years. Hearing it from her lips healed something deep within his heart. For the first time, he dared to believe he could move on from his past.
They sat in companionable silence for a bit, the quiet moments filled with a shared understanding that spoke louder than words. Arthur gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, and Kate responded by peppering a few tender kisses against his rough lips. His troubled memories of loss were met with the warmth of her affection, earning a light smile that softened his features.
“Will you tell me about your son?” she asked suddenly, her voice curious but gentle. She gave him the choice, leaving the door open for him to decide if he wanted to open up.
Arthur took a deep breath, his gaze distant as he collected his thoughts. “Isaac,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “He was a bright kid, full of curiosity. Always askin’ questions, always wantin’ to learn. Eliza used to say he’d grow up to be a scholar or somethin’.”
Kate listened intently, her heart aching for the pain she could see etched in his eyes. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “He sounds like he was a wonderful boy.”
Arthur nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He had this smile that could light up a room,” he said, thick with emotion. “Loved animals, just like his old man. I remember one time, he found this injured bird. Brought it home and insisted on takin’ care of it. He and his Ma nursed it back to health, and when it was strong enough to fly, he let it go. He was so proud of himself.” Arthur didn’t mention that he was absent for most of these stories, only knowing the details through Eliza’s letters. 
Kate’s eyes shimmered with warmth as she imagined the scene. “He had a kind heart, just like you.”
Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know ‘bout that, but he was good. Better than I ever was.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Arthur’s words hanging in the air. Kate reached out and gently wiped a single tear from his cheek, her touch tender and comforting. “Thank you for sharing him with me, Arthur. I know how hard it can be to lose a family, and I’m proud of you for how far you’ve come.”
Kate’s words encouraged more silent tears, he quickly wiped them away. Clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. “He was a real good kid. Just wish I had more time with him.”
“I do too, honey.” She said softly, almost motherly. Her thumb tracing his jawline in a comforting gesture.
Arthur breathed deeply, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “But it helps, talkin’ ‘bout him. Keeps his memory alive.”
Kate nodded, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. “And I’ll be here, whenever you need to talk about him. Or anything else.”
Arthur leaned in and kissed her softly, his lips conveying the depth of his gratitude and affection. “I’ll remember that, Kate. Thank you.”
━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━
Later that evening, the newly coupled pair found themselves back in the cozy confines of the little ranch house. The day's labor left them both weary but content. Kate prepared a simple dinner of rice and chicken while Arthur freshened himself up. The aroma of the meal filled the house, mingling with the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. After dinner, they made their way to the bedroom, savoring every moment of their last night together away from the gang, the world of outlaws, and the endless running. For one more night, they were just a couple of simple ranch hands.
Arthur sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned, and the bandage wrap over his shoulder wound removed. He rolled his arm uncomfortably, the day's labor catching up to him, bringing a throbbing sensation and the familiar tingling in his fingers.
“You alright?” Kate asked softly, unplaiting her braids and combing through the locks with her fingers. Her eyes were filled with concern and tenderness.
Arthur nodded wearily, stretching his arm. “M’fine. Just sore. Pain medicine’s wearin’ off.” He gestured to his satchel with a tired smile.
Kate understood and moved to the satchel on the table, searching through its contents to find a tonic for his pain. She grabbed the balm for his wound as well as the little bottle of elixir, but something small and round caught her attention. She pulled out a peach pit and looked at it, confused for a moment, before realization dawned.
“You kept this?” She asked with a light chuckle, holding up the pit. Memories came flooding back from the first night she stayed in camp.
Arthur looked up and smiled, a light blush creeping up his cheeks. “Yeah, your kindness meant a lot to me. I couldn’t throw it away.”
“I never knew you were the sentimental type,” she said, her smile widening as she closed the distance and handed him the small vial. Arthur popped the cap off and downed it in one swig.
Kate opened the salve, gathering it on her fingers before she began to massage it into the flesh of his scar. He moaned softly, closing his eyes as she spread the balm, her fingers working his muscles, squeezing and rubbing his aching body. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, encouraging her to stand between his legs.
“Maybe we can plant it someday,” he said finally. “On our own land.”
Kate giggled softly. “You wanna be a peach farmer now?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection.
Arthur opened his eyes and looked up at her, his gaze intense and sincere. “I'll be whatever, s’long as I’m with you.”
Her heart melted at his words and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, Arthur. You are sweeter than any peach, you know that?” she murmured, the corners of her lips tugging into a smile.
Arthur suddenly tugged her body down to him, pulling her into his lap. Kate let out a surprised yelp, quickly followed by a delighted laugh. He pulled her into a deep kiss, his large hands roaming her back, snaking their way up her spine and into her hair. She sighed blissfully at his touch, radiating tenderness. His large body was intoxicatingly warm, she could feel the heat of him through the fabric of her clothing. 
Their lips met and broke with a light smack sound, engaging in a dance as they explored each other's mouths. An intimate melody of resonant hums and breathless pauses, the quick intakes of air, and the subtle, almost imperceptible sounds of lips moving against each other, slick with desire. Intense and consuming, echoing their fervent connection.
Arthur’s lips were rough yet gentle, filled with a raw passion that matched Kate’s soft and eager ones. Her hand cradled his head, occasionally tugging on his soft hair, eliciting a groan from his throat. Kate swallowed the sounds, their passion heating with each passing moment. The room around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other, in a world where nothing else mattered.
Arthur moaned as Kate's lips moved against his with a fervent urgency. Their kiss deepened, mouths opening to explore each other with wet tongues. They pressed their lips together hard, feeling the heat of their breath mingling. There's a sense of hunger, of wanting to consume and be consumed. A newfound fervor to pull each other close, eliminate any space between them as their two bodies pressed together. Every touch, every movement feels electric.
Kate’s hands began to wander, tracing the contours of his chest and feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. Arthur’s hands were not idle either. They roamed up and down her back, fingers tracing the lines of her spine and the curve of her waist. His touch was gentle yet possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of feeling her close to him. His fingers played at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in a swift motion. He ran his hands over her bare skin, marveling at the warmth and strength beneath his touch.
Arthur groaned softly, his head falling back as Kate’s lips left his to trail a line of feather-light kisses down his neck. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he trembled slightly under her touch. Her lips brushed over the pulse point in his throat, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
“Is this alright, Arthur?” Kate whispered against his skin, her voice filled with both desire and concern.
Arthur’s eyes fluttered open, meeting her gaze with a mix of adoration and longing. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice low and husky. “S’more than alright.”
Encouraged by his words, Kate continued her exploration, her lips moving down to his collarbone, then kissing back up the other side of his neck, sucking at the soft skin. The press of her lips sent a shiver down his spine, he felt relaxed and electrified. A deep desire and craving for more. He moaned softly and squeezed her thighs, massaging her flesh. 
She could feel the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under her touch, the way his breath came in shallow gasps. Her hands wandered lower, tracing the lines of his abdomen, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the soft skin of his belly. She was grateful his weight returned with his recovery, preferring her lover to be healthy and robust, finding comfort in his solid presence.
Arthur wrapped his good arm under her bottom and suddenly lifted her up, with a gasp she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. Kate's breath hitched as Arthur turned and pressed her into the mattress, his body a warm and comforting weight above her. His lips found hers once more, kissing her deeply, passionately. Their tongues danced together, wet and eager, exploring each other's mouths with a hunger that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.
She could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh, a hard and undeniable presence that sent a thrill through her entire body. Recalling their previous night, Kate made no move to initiate anything further. Wanting to wait until Arthur felt comfortable and letting him take the lead. She focused instead on the heat of his kisses and the way his hands roamed her body, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through her.
Arthur's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. He reached her chest, his breath hot against her skin as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. Kate moaned, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure washed over her.
“Arthur,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to worship her chest. The sound of his name on her lips, filled with such longing and need, seemed to spur him on. His free hand slid up her side, caressing her soft skin, while his mouth moved from one breast to the other, lavishing equal attention on each.
Kate's breath came in shallow gasps, her hands wandering over Arthur's chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breaths. His fingers traced the curves of her body, sending shivers of delight down her spine. They moved together in a seamless rhythm, each touch and caress deepening their connection.
Arthur's mouth left her breasts, trailing kisses back up to her neck. “So beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot and ragged against her skin. He sucked gently at the soft skin, leaving marks that would remind her of this night for days to come. Kate's moans filled the room, mingling with the sounds of Arthur’s husky groans, creating a symphony of desire and passion.
Their hands continued to explore, each touch a promise of more to come. Kate's fingers traced the lines of his abdomen, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. Arthur's hands roamed her body, squeezing her thighs and massaging her flesh, his touch gentle and possessive.
Despite the intensity of their passion, Kate could sense the restraint in Arthur, the way he held back, unsure of how far he could go. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her eyes meeting his with a look of understanding and reassurance. “We don’t have to take it farther, honey,” she whispered against his lips. “I could lay here just like this, all night long.” 
Arthur nodded with a smile, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. “Thank you,” he murmured, capturing her lips once more in a kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn't yet put into words. His hand slipped back under her, lifting her slightly to deepen the kiss, their bodies pressed together in a perfect fit.
Kate's heart swelled with love and desire, each touch, each kiss, strengthening the bond between them. As they continued to make out, she could feel the barriers between them dissolving, replaced by a deep and abiding connection that would see them through whatever challenges lay ahead.
They kissed and touched, their passion growing with each passing moment, yet always careful, always mindful of Arthur’s comfort. Inside the little ranch house, all was calm, a sanctuary of love and desire, where they could be themselves, free from the burdens of the past and the uncertainties of the future.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally pulled away, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Their lips swollen and red, soft pink bruises marred the exposed skin. A sign of their heated passion where lips met the sensitive flesh. 
Arthur rested his forehead against Kate’s, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m going to miss this,” she whispered, her voice filled with a bittersweet longing.
Arthur's brow furrowed slightly. “Miss what darlin’?”
“This,” she said, gesturing to the space around them. “Being here, just the two of us. Away from everything.” 
Her words were vague but Arthur understood what everything meant. The chaos that was his life back in the gang, his role as Dutch’s right-hand, and most importantly his title as an outlaw. 
Arthur's expression softened, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “Sweetheart, you know I—” he began, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. “I wish things were different. But the gang is the only family I have.” He spoke. Arthur longed for the same dream, a simple quiet life. But there were certain duties he needed to uphold, people that he couldn't abandon. 
Kate nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. “I know, honey. Trust me, I know. You would kill for them and you would happily die for them. I just hope that you will choose to live, for me too.”
Arthur's eyes darkened with emotion, his hand tightening around her waist and pulling her close to his chest. “Kate, you mean more to me than you'll ever know.” He breathed against her skin. “I promise you, I'll do my best to make it through this. For us.” The words came out with such intensity it may as well have been a vow.
Kate smiled softly, her heart aching with love for the man in front of her. She knew the path ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but she also knew that together, they could stand unshaken. “I believe you, Arthur,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 
━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━
The first light of dawn crept into the room, casting a gentle glow over Arthur and Kate as they lay entwined in the warm embrace of their shared dreams. Arthur stirred first, blinking against the soft light, a peaceful expression settling over his features as he admired the sleeping woman beside him. Kate woke soon after, her fingers brushing tenderly against his cheek as she whispered, “Time to get up, love.”
They rose together, the intimacy of the previous night lingering in the air like a sweet perfume. With a shared glance and a soft kiss, they began their morning routine, dressing quickly and heading outside to greet the day. The ranch was bathed in the golden light of early morning, the dew on the grass shimmering like a thousand tiny diamonds.
Arthur and Kate worked in quiet harmony, cleaning up the barn and ensuring everything was in order for Seamus and his family. Arthur mucked out the stalls, his muscles straining but his heart light, while Kate fed the animals and refilled their water troughs. The work was satisfying, grounding them in the simplicity of ranch life and the shared purpose they found in each other.
As the sun climbed higher, a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, signaling the return of Seamus and his family. Kate wiped her brow with the back of her hand, glancing at Arthur with a smile. “Looks like they’re back.”
Arthur nodded, leaning against the stall door as they watched the wagon approach. Seamus jumped down, a wide grin spreading across his weathered face as he spotted the two of them. “Kate! Good to see you. How’d it go?”
Kate stepped forward, her smile warm and welcoming. “Went just fine, Seamus. Dolly gave birth to a beautiful colt. We named him Huckleberry.”
Seamus’s eyes lit up with delight. “Well, I’ll be! That’s wonderful news. Thank you both for taking such good care of the place.”
Arthur tipped his hat, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Was our pleasure, Seamus.”
Seamus clapped Arthur on the shoulder, his gratitude evident in his eyes. “You two are welcome here anytime. Don’t be strangers, you hear?”
After exchanging a few more words and ensuring everything was in order, Arthur and Kate made their way to the hitching post where Lorena awaited them. Arthur saddled her up, the familiar motions bringing a sense of calm and purpose. Kate stood by, her hand resting gently on Lorena’s neck.
Once Lorena was ready, Arthur swung up into the saddle, then reached down to help Kate up behind him. She settled in, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his back. With a gentle nudge, Arthur urged Lorena forward, the horse moving with a graceful ease as they left the ranch behind.
As they rode together back to Clemens Point, the weight of their recent confessions lingered in the air, a tangible presence between them. The steady rhythm of Lorena's hooves was the only sound, a soothing backdrop to their thoughts. The camp was not far off now, the familiar landscape bringing with it a sense of impending reality.
Kate broke the silence, her voice uncertain yet curious. "What do you wanna tell the others?"
Arthur's response was gentle and kind. "Whatever makes you comfortable sweetheart. But if you plan on hidin’ it, just know nothin’ gets past those girls,” he chuckled. “John too."
Kate knew the women in camp were incredibly perceptive. They spent their days in close quarters, becoming experts at eavesdropping and reading the silent language of the other camp members. But John surprised her. "John too, huh? Didn’t strike me as the observant type."
Arthur's gaze was fixed on the path ahead as he spoke. "Well, he’s not. But he knows me pretty well, sometimes too well. Can’t blame him though, we were practically raised together.” His voice carried a hint of nostalgia. “But he knows how to keep his mouth shut. If not, I’ll just shut it for him." He added, Kate chuckled lightly. Imagining the banter between the two brothers.
After a moment of silence, Kate hesitated before speaking again. "You know,” she began. Her tone was cautious. “John told me he got a lead on them O’Driscoll boys. Says he wants to form a posse and go after them for what they did to you."
Arthur's jaw tightened, and frustration crept into his voice. "Then he’s a goddamn fool. No sense in takin’ revenge for my sake. Does Dutch know this?"
"Most likely not," Kate admitted. "Dutch told me he had a plan a while back when you had the fever. But you know how that goes. John mentioned it to me the other night ‘round the fire. Sounds like he’s got a decent lead to get a jump on them."
Arthur's tone grew darker, his concern palpable. "Kate, revenge is a fool’s game. I’ve seen it kill too many folk. Promise me you won’t get swept up in that mess."
A fierce determination sparked in Kate’s eyes. "Those men deserve hellfire for what they did to you, Arthur." Her vow to cease taking another person’s life lingered in the back of her mind, but all of that changed the day she protected the Marston’s wagon from the raiders. The thrill of the fight no longer brought her joy, but she understood the dangerous reality of life within the gang. When push came to shove, she would have to kill out of necessity. Arthur’s captors may not be a necessity, but the thought of them almost taking him from her ignited a deep-seated rage within her, like a coyote in the night waiting for the right moment to strike its prey.
Arthur sighed, his grip on the reins tightening. "I’m sure the families of the men I’ve killed said the same ‘bout me. But you know what happens when they come to get revenge? They end up dead," he said gravely. "By my hand," he added bitterly.
Kate’s resolve wavered, her voice softening. "I know, but Arthur—"
Arthur cut her off, his voice firm and unyielding. "Enough. Promise me you won’t go with him, Kate."
The weight of his words settled heavily in the air. Kate could feel the depth of his fear, the terror of losing her to the same fate he had narrowly escaped. She took a deep breath, her voice steady. "I promise, Arthur."
As they approached Clemens Point, a mix of emotions swirled within Kate. She felt a deep sense of relief and happiness knowing that she and Arthur were finally together, bound by their shared understanding and the thread of fate. Yet, a shadow of uncertainty lingered, aware that Arthur would soon plunge back into the perilous abyss of whatever schemes Dutch had conjured. The ever-present threat of danger felt closer than ever, a dark specter gnawing at the edges of her heart. The thought of him stepping back into harm’s embrace sent shivers down her spine. Despite this, she clung to the hope that their love would be the anchor to keep them grounded amidst the chaos, giving her strength to face whatever lay ahead.
~~~
A/N: uh ohhhh is there some foreshadowing here at the end? I won't say. But things are gonna start picking up pace again and I'll be returning to the game plot in the next chapter. Their lives are about to get a little crazy! Sorry if I bore anyone with these filler-chapters but I needed a break after what happened w/ Arthur's torture....and I wanted them to get their feelings out there in a safe space away from all the camp nonsense. I think they had a good time wouldn't you say? As always thanks for reading!!!! <3
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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 1 year
Text
First day
Originally posted on my Wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife
Alex Vause x reader
!!TW: mention of murder and vague drug mention!!
Work count:: 1.2k (not proof read)
Alex POV: (Alex and Piper aren't together in this)
I walked into the cafeteria and joined the que to get lunch, another day of sloppy something, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. Yum, I can't complain though because it's better than nothing and if I do complain Red will starve me out. Brushing off hat thought, I get my food and saunter over to a table with some of my friends on it, Morello, Chapman and Nicky.  I take a seat and listen in on their conversation. 
Nicky - "No c'mon, she's hot."
Piper - "I agree, I mean have you seen her. The eyes, hair the hair!" dragging out the r sound at the end as if to make a point.
Alex - "Who you talking about?"
Nicky - "That new girl that showed up in the van this morning, she's very good lookin' although she's been crying in the bathroom since she got here so maybe not the most stable girl in here."
Morello - "There's worse trust me, and besides why are you all getting so worked up about this? Yeah she's nice to look at but what if she has someone outside of here? You know, like a boyfriend or girlfriend or someone, she might even be married for all you know?"
Nicky - "Yeah but you said it, she's nice to look at tuts, she's gunna be getting looks from all over. If she stops crying of course."
At this point my interest was piqued and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about so once I'd sat, had a tal and eaten my food I was going to go find this mystery girl and find out if they're actually telling the truth.
Y/n POV:
I can't believe I actually did that. I killed her. I killed my own mother. I keep telling myself it was the only way out but everytime I think about it the guilt and self resentment creeps back in. My mum had munchausen by proxy and she made me believe I was sick and could walk or do practically anything by myself. I really didn't see any other way out so, one night I just did it. Obviously I feel terrible and wish I'd never done it but, there really was no other way out. Anyway, it's done now and I'm in jail, thankfully not maximum security because people could see my side of the story and saw I wasn't just a cold-blooded killer. 
I've been at Litchfield a little over 5 hours now and as soon as I was allowed to go off and do my thing, I went straight for the bathroom and I've been crying ever since. Somehow, I managed to get the only stall with a door so thankfully people can't just watch me cry, hear me yes but watch, no.
All day people have been staring and I don't know why. Maybe they think I'm fucked up for what I did or something. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a soft knock on the door. 
Alex - "Hey, you okay in there? Stupid question I know because well, you're crying but I still feel like I have to ask."
I bite my lip and sigh before responding, I didn't expect anyone to actually care.
Y/n -  "Uhm- yeah, I guess I'm okay. Not my ideal situation but you know, life goes on."
Alex - "Yeah well you got that one right."
After that a not awkward but not totally comfortable silence fell over us. I slowly stood up and unlocked the door. I stepped out and tried to dry my face from the copious amount of tears I'd shead in the past hours of being here. Instantly this woman picked up on it and gently held my face in one hand and helped me wipe my tears with the other.
Alex - "You'll be okay, I'm going to be brutally honest with you, the first few days are actual hell, you'll miss everything and everyone but, I'll be here is you ever want to talk about it okay? Oh, and I'm Alex by the way, but everyone calls me Vause, it's my last name." 
I smiled at Alex and nodded my head a small thank you leaving my lips. She pulled me into her embrace and held me tight. 
Alex - "You know, they were right."
I was confused because I had not a single idea what she was going on about. So, I pulled my head slightly away from her shoulder and looked at her.
Y/n - "What do you mean? Who's right?"
Alex - "Oh just my friends, they said some stiff about how you were really good looking and what not."
You felt a blush creep across my face as you looked into her gorgeous green eyes only now just realising after looking a her properly just how beautiful she really was. A sly smirk found it's way onto her lips before she spoke again. 
Alex - "Hey, don't get all shy on me now."
A she said that her hand found it's way to my waist as she pulled me closer again. Whilst she trailed her other hand up my body and hooked a finger around my chin so I'd look her in the eyes.
Y/n - "You really mean it?"
Alex - "Of course I do, I mean I've known you what, like 2 minutes and I'm already calling you beautiful I think that speaks for itself ." 
I giggle a bit and looked down in an attempt to hide my flustered face yet again, knowing she was right. I looked her in the eyes again only to see her eyes had never left me and she had a wide smile of her face. 
Alex POV:
I looked down slightly because I was a bit taller than her and just marvelled at this gorgeous girl in front of me she had glowing y/h/c hair and shining y/e/c eyes, her smile could light up a room and her laugh was so fucking adorable. Normally, I'm not the one to fall over small stuff like this but she was different,  I don't know why, she just was.
She looked me back in the eyes and I couldn't help myself anymore, I leaned in and captured her lips in mine. They fit together like puzzle pieces. Her hand found their way into my hair while mine rested on the small of her back keeping her safe in my arms. I swiped my tongue over her bottom lip asking for entrance and she happily agreed. She tugged on my hair a little so in return I grazed my teeth over her bottom lip and she let out a small breathy moan which was almost silent but, I could still hear it. We broke away for ir and as soon as we separated we crashed our lips back together hungrily. She was almost as addictive as some of the things women in the jail used to do. 
Just as things were getting heated someone burts into the bathroom.
Healy - "INMATES NO LESBIAN ACTIVITY ALLOWED!"
We both untangled ourselves from each other and apologised. As he left I whispered in her ear. 
Y/n POV:
Alex - "He won't catch us tonight sweetheart don't worry. I'll have you all to myself, I'll make you feel better."
She then gave me a final eck on the lips and walked out the bathroom. Oh man, I was not going to get much sleep on my first night in prison.
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darkbluekies · 4 months
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This is just me happy ranting, I'm in my feels don't mind me
I'm so happy that I created these characters and this blog, I really am.
I had been on wattpad for 4 years when I started this account and I could feel how things had started to change.my kpop fanfictions weren't doing as well as they once had and I felt limited in my writing. Although the stories and my imagination weren't that much different from what I'm writing now, writing these stuff (especially Silas's things) felt wrong to do since I was writing about real people so I didn't. I watered down my works so that I wouldn't feel bad, but eventually, those also felt too much. I officially left that account, and took down everything, a year ago.
So, in November 2022, I decided to create a new space, where I could start over. I wrote "intruder" and had it in my drafts for a few days, hesitating. I then published it but privated it because I was scared lol. I'm so happy I decided to make it public again.
I still remember creating Hedwig, specifically. I was out on my daily walk, it was dark outside and I was thinking of the characters I should use, a set amount. I had Silas, Kry and had in my plans to introduce Jerry as the last character. I was actually writing a character that was supposed to be the "quiet kid" in school, but i thought that using a girl in a school atmosphere would be more interesting. I wanted this "typical" yandere setting. I thought about different appearances for her, different characteristics. I had made Jerry 2 or 3 years earlier and thought "why not make someone completely opposite?" Hedwig wasn't meant to be rich from the beginning, just a normal girl. But I added it to have a bigger play field. I remember coming up with it and being like "fuck yes, write that down she's now rich".
I remember how Edmund came to life too. I was watching an old music video that I liked when I was a kid (Masquerade by Eric Saade), it was a Friday night and I was in bed. I got so inspired to write the Masquerade Massacre one-shot that I wrote it in one sitting. If you read the story, you'll notice that Edmund doesn't have a name in it. I hadn't chosen one and wasn't planning on making him one of the set characters, but it quickly became my most popular and liked one shot and people wanted continuations so I decided to make him the fifth and final character. His name was originally Edward, I had put that in his character masterlist and in the full masterlist, but changed it since one of my main characters in one of my private novels is called Edward ... and they're quite similar in both looks and behavior. I wanted something similar ... and decided upon Edmund.
I have gone out of my comfort zone on this account and I couldn't be happier, the people on here have been very supportive of me and my writing and it makes me so happy. I love you all a lot<333333
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foressfaction · 6 months
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Welcome to my silly blog
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Heya. I’m Toby/Tobias some people can call me Twat I guess. I am fond of the nickname TobyTot too it’s cute. I am an adult and make content here for fandoms. At the moment it’s Creepypasta. I am an artist, writer and cosplayer.
You’ll probably see me post my art, writing and cosplays here. I have other socials too I can list below.
- Tiktok: Foressfaction
- Instagram: foressfactionn/hxtchetsout/t0byb0y
I mainly draw and cosplay mainly from the Slenderverse/Creepypasta universe
I post things like my Toby rewrite, silly little one shot stories of ships or scenarios I am fond of.
I am working on a comic called Dystopia. It’s based on mostly slenderverse
I have an Oc I post here often. Here’s some more on him —> Cross-X info sheet
I am THE Toby enthusiast so expect lots of rambles and art of him. He’s the guy ever.
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I’m open for dms and asks if you feel welcome to!
I enjoy the grunge aesthetic and plants, I love many genres of music and art. I do digital art and traditional along with some painting though what I post here will be more digital. I write passionately about my interests and characters. Cats, raccoons and foxes are my current favorite animals. I enjoy orange and green toned things. I like forests and going out into nature when ever I can (and my body let me.) I take photography photos of said forests and trips I take. I enjoy piercings and have a few myself, along with sour flavored things. I absolutely love the smell of lavender and won’t leave the house unless I reak of it (real) I am protective of my friends and partner and will give the world for them. I am not in a relationship at the moment.
I love horror movies, Scream being my favorite franchise, followed closely by Jaws and many many shark films and documentaries. I am a film fanatic and will talk during movie theatres…. I aspire to become a film director and make my own stories and bring them to life via film. I love the ocean and sea creatures. SHARKS. I will ramble about sharks and other interests. I tend to speak a lot on certain topics easily even if it was started over something completely different. I can probably talk for hours on voice calls. I play Genshin sometimes and Roblox mainly at the moment. I own a cat and his name is Mr fuggles and another whose name is Nim Nims. I named them both hop off.
I am neurodivergent and need tone tags, I am diagnosed ADHD and Anxiety disorders so be weary of those things. I am not easily offended or set off unless my friends are hurt. I have (at the moment) undiagnosed Autism. I take that very lightly as again I am not medically recognized due to financial problems but I will state it anyways to let people know it’s a possibility.
My favorite current ships at the moment are (they are links)
-Tack/Ticcijack
- Ticciwork
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Table of contents for my writing and rants (they are links)
Toby Headcanons
Toby Family Headcanons
Friends one shot
Rewrite link on wattpad
Origin of Cross-x on Quotev
Fatal instinct mini fic
Nails mini fic
Unposted headcanons
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psaikey · 2 months
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Thoughts on “When This Is Over”
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⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎
"When This Is Over"; Levi Ackerman/ Reader fanfiction on Ao3 and Wattpad by gorillagripgamer
⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎
I have no words for this one and at the same time don’t know where to start, so let’s take it one step at a time.
To me the writing style is sometimes more important than the story because it can make any story exceptional. In this case the writing style ticks all the boxes. The POVs are amazing, the inner monologues, the dialogues, the descriptions, just everything is so real and feels tangible in a way.
Other than that the structure is very interesting, original and refreshing by narrating parallel stories in the past and present showing us the relationship between Levi and the main character from many angles and points in time as well as their many adventures together and how their bond grew. Character development also evident over time.
This is a slow-burn romance story but also somewhat an exception. Based more on denial, responsibility and acceptance. A story where the chemistry is immediate and having both parties aware but each having their own internal turmoil and reasoning why their love is unattainable (and obviously Levi feeling stronger about it). The weight of the circumstances forbidding their love but they always find themselves returning to each other fully aware, which makes the romance so thrilling, making you hold your breath and roll around in excitement. The romance scenes are hot and steamy, kudos to the author for writing them so beautifully. Their relationship is one of equals, respectful loving and funny at times.
The story takes place about a year after Levi’s recruitment into the Scouts and continues 10 years later to the end. Isayama’s original characters are all canonical, Levi included, and the new characters are all well written and fit the main character well. There are few manga/anime plot repeatitions and an interesting original side story. The only part where there is some description of Isayama’s story is the Rumbling, but with more than enough original content.
If you're looking for something truly moving that will leave you feeling hopeful and full of emotion, then you absolutely have to check out this amazing piece!
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nekoannie-chan · 5 months
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Pain
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Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader.
Word count: 622 words.
Rating: Teen.
Summary: Steve broke your heart
Major Tags: Doubts, cheating, Sharon Carter.
Additional tags: This is my entry to @flordeamatista Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge with the prompt:
"You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe when you're with 'em. Love the way you lie"
You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.
@saiyanprincessswanie.
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.
I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 
If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber
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You were running as fast as you could; it was as if something was stopping you from breathing. Your heart was pounding like it was going to explode, but you knew it was because of all the feelings pressing on your chest. You had decided to surprise Steve; you knew how to help him so he and Bucky could escape. However, the surprise was for you when, on arriving at the agreed-upon place, you saw Steve kissing Sharon Carter. The pain that shot through you was indescribable, probably worse than if you had been stabbed straight through the heart, making the air dense and unbreathable, as if you were trapped and imprisoned in a tiny place. You froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding in front of you. "You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe when you're with 'em," you thought, each word feeling like an open wound in your heart. At that moment, you wondered if you could ever breathe normally again.
Steve slowly pulled away from Sharon, but suddenly his attention was drawn to you. His eyes, full of surprise and concern, searched yours for an explanation he couldn't give. None of that was supposed to have happened.
You tried to say something—anything that could explain your presence there—but the words stuck in your throat. You couldn't bear what you had just seen; you wanted to run away, or maybe give an explanation or pretend nothing had happened, but how could you ignore what you had just witnessed?
Similarly, Steve looked confused, as if he wanted to explain, although he didn't know exactly what to say either.
The silence between you was too much; you were sure that any sound, even the slightest, could be heard. Finally, it was Steve who broke the impasse, taking a few hesitant steps towards you.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret and confusion. "I don't know what to say... You shouldn't have seen that."
Tears threatened to overflow from your eyes, but you forced yourself to hold them back. You didn't want to show him your weakness, not when he had seen enough. You took a deep breath, trying desperately to find the right words to express everything you were feeling at that moment. Even though it seemed impossible, you felt like a fool for always supporting him in everything, for loving him, and for letting him play with your feelings.
"I'm sorry," Steve repeated, moving even closer, as if he wanted to reach out to you but was afraid of scaring you. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You shouldn't have been here."
Your lips trembled before you began to speak. You needed strength and to concentrate on what you were going to say, even though it seemed so difficult. "I don't know why I came," you confessed, the voice barely a whisper that came through. "I thought... I thought I might...". You stopped, unable to finish the sentence, as the lump in your throat threatened to stop you from speaking.
Steve looked at you and reached out a hand towards you, but hesitated before touching you, as if he feared his touch would only make things worse.
"I don't know what to say," he finally admitted. "I can't explain what happened... between Sharon and me. But it doesn't change how I feel about you."
Steve's words left you dazed and confused. How could he say he loved you while he was entangled with someone else?
You turned around and started to walk away. Sometimes love wasn't as sweet as everyone thought it was, and sometimes it seemed like it was trying to drown you, on the verge of stopping you from breathing.
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