#can u tell I don’t like drawing toes
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a 10pm thought re: oral between friends
thinking about fucking around in the studio with the guys & making an offhand comment re: bringing back the blowjob lyrics & george hitting u back with can't do that cos healy's not getting them anymore. & matty just tells u guys to fuck off as usual but it sticks with u and u start scheming.
it comes up again a week later on the floor of his living room, with you stretched out on his concrete floor flipping through one of his wanky coffee table books. he’s settled on the couch just above you, watching you laze about at his feet like a housecat in the sun.
“y’ look nice down there.”
he means it innocently enough, but it’s the perfect opportunity to push him around a little.
“yeah? giving you some inspo for that new blowie song?”
he rolls his eyes hard, reaching out a socked foot to nudge you teasingly on the shoulder.“yeah haha very funny matty in his incel era.”
and maybe its the warmth of the sun making you delirious, or just the overwhelming domesticity of the moment, but the words leave your mouth before you can even think to stop them.
“'m being serious. i’d get you off, if you wanted.”
matty almost chokes to death on his own spit.
“don’t fuck me about.”
you might as well have socked him in the jaw for the look on his face. his mouth has fallen slack, just slightly, and his expression reads as vaguely pained.
the silence between you carries on for a little longer, and you can see him disappearing further and further into his own head. its in moments like these that you realise perhaps he’s more of a sap than you’d thought. public image matty necks tequila and takes his coffee black, but yours would prefer a malbec and a cappuccino with two and a half sugars. public image matty gets off with groupies and regularly toes the line of public indecency, but yours is looking at you like he might keel over and die at the prospect of a blowjob. you’d been half joking really, but the intensity of his reaction has shelved any plans you'd been harboring to tease.
“‘i’m not,” you shake your head resolutely, suddenly developing a stomach ache at the consequences of your own actions. “i’d never.” despite attempting to maintain a flirty tone, you have to swallow down a lump in your throat the size of the texas.
“kiss me first?”
“huh?” your reply comes out as more of a breath than coherent speech.
“if we’re gonna do this, 'wanna kiss you first. will you do that for me?”
you're not sure what he's playing at, really. you're more than happy to oblige, of course; you'd dreamt of kissing matty loads of times. admittedly never as precursor to casual oral, but you'd take what you could get. you'll chalk it up to being another facet of his sentimental nature. that, or he just needs a minute to work himself up before you get him undressed.
either way, you huff and scramble up to meet his request only to be stopped by a gentle hand on your cheek. his hands are so big, so warm, and you can’t help but nuzzle further into his touch. you're playing all the right cards and he and he still doesn’t kiss you, just lets his eyes linger on your embarrassed face and presses a bruising thumb to your bottom lip.
“fuck, matty - please.” he’s just teasing you now, he has to be. it's making you itchy.
“please what, darlin’?”
“thought you wanted a kiss. you’re being cruel.”
“don’t like me mean?”
“dirty, maybe. not mean.”
“jesus christ. alright, ok.”
he surges forward then, eyes squeezing shut in a uniquely sexy breed of anguish. if he weren't already holding you steady, the force of the kiss might’ve knocked you on your ass. his lips smear against yours messily; movements punctuated with gentle, bubbly gasps. it's hot and messy and charged with desperation - which reminds you abruptly of the task at hand.
he grunts when you draw back, but his disappointment is short-lived.
“can i suck you off now?”
matty thinks he might actually die.
when you slide down and start messing with the zipper of his jeans, hes certain.
from the minute you get your mouth on him, matty’s floundering like he doesn't quite know where to put his hands; where he’s allowed to. he’s writhing around against the couch cushions, hands balled into tight fists atop his thighs. to your great satisfaction, he can't seem to look at you for longer than about five seconds at a time. every attempt only results in a littany of curses and his eyes flying to the ceiling instead. you figure he's trying to hold off on his orgasm, but you're greedy; you want him to look at you.
you intend it as a bit of a power move when you reach for his hand and bury it into your hair, but it backfires completely when he gives it a tug and you moan all slutty around the length of him. you’d been doing so well keeping your sounds to a minimum, but the dull ache sends a shock of pleasure up your spine.
something about the action must’ve done it for matty too, because not a second later he’s spilling down your throat with garbled incoherence and choked groans. ‘fuck, ’m coming, fuck -”
you ride it out with your mouth flush to the hilt of him, eyes closed with concentration in committing the sounds of his climax to memory.
finally, his eyes drop down and burn right through you as pull off him and place a chaste kiss to his inner thigh.
“up,” he chokes out, bordering on frantic; “up - come here.”
you comply happily, dopey with pride at having caused the fucked out look on his face. he manhandles you easily despite his exhaustion, slotting you comfortably atop his thighs and squeezing your waist.
he looks lovely like this; lips bitten raw and sweat beading at his hairline. you want to eat him whole.
it’s different when you kiss him for a second time, after the dust of his manic lust has settled. its quaint almost; clumsy and a bit unsure. like this is perhaps more intimate than any moment preceding it. every second movement of his lips is punctuated with weak, breathless thank yous. his lips are still parted slightly when you pull back, as though you’ve cut him off early from his ministrations. your heart flutters wildly in your chest.
“fuck, stop looking at me like that. you’re mental.”
he sounds pained again. you muffle laughter and continue toying with his fingers where your hands are gently intertwined. “like what?”
“all sweet and that like you didn’t just have my cock down your throat.”
“i think that was very sweet of me.’
“fuckin’ more than. gonna write a whole blowjob album now, honest.”
“can i do it again? later, i mean?”
for the third time today, matty's soul nearly vacates his body and ascends to the heavens.
"'f i ever turn you down for that, please smack me 'round the mouth."
you giggle breathlessly, and matty gives you disbelieving sort of smile and lets his forehead fall slack against your shoulder. it's only now in the afterglow of your determination to get him off that you settle into the discomfort of your own arousal. he's gone all warm and sleepy beneath you, tracing circles on the bare skin of your knee, and you suddenly feel like you might burst into tears. "sorry, uh- i gotta pee."
a flicker of panic flashes across matty's face, and you can tell hes back in that worried, overthinking place in his brain. that is, until he takes in the heaving of your chest and the way you can't quite keep your legs still.
"oh, lovely girl. need me to take care of you now too, 's that it?"
arguably nobody had ever needed anything more. you’ve soaked through since he’d first kissed you; itchy and sweating through your clothes.
“please, matty.”
the desperation in your voice seems to knock the energy back into him tenfold. it’s forceful but never rough when he maneuvers you onto the couch beside him and drops to the floor. "i've got you, darlin'", he admonishes, hiking your skirt up past your thighs.
“tell me if i do anything you don’t like, yeah?”
you find it hard to imagine he’d be capable. you nod anyways. “yeah, yes - okay.”
promoted to his knees, matty edges between your legs and drapes an arm across your hips. the implication hits you like a train; you won’t be able to hold still.
fuck.
#this is half baked and unedited sorry i just needed to yap#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy fic
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pov
- megumi fushiguro x reader
- notes: i edited this from the last time i wrote it which was like over a year ago.. if u remember this ur so real but act like u haven’t read it b4 😘 (for my sake)
megumi fushiguro doesn’t know how it feels like to be loved, not really at least; to be completely taken into the arms of another with such gentleness and care the dangers of the world slip your mind. he’s starstruck, in more words or less, by the way you continue to stick by him throughout the many moods that make him whole.
he’s in awe once more, at the way you bend over and mindlessly pick up the laundry that’s been long overdue; megumi’s been in a slump, worse than usual. he’s not sure why, but it feels like he’s a kid again.
he can’t fathom why, out of everyone, it’s him that has to deal with the obstacles of navigating life without a mother, father, sibling, just someone who won’t leave. and he knows, he’s aware that gojo has tried everything in the book to cheer him up. he’s done that since the day he became megumi’s official caregiver — and megumi is grateful, so so grateful, but he can’t help the ache in his chest he feels when he sees a happy family. he has never felt a jealousy that runs so deeply he can taste the bitter feeling on his tongue.
so, when you came around and filled that void with nothing but light so powerful it would shame the sun itself, he wasn’t sure what to feel.
megumi cares for you, he knows that for a fact. he doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to understand him. he doesn’t want to think that it’s love of all things, though. not when you could so easily leave and abandon this, him.
where does he draw the line? even after he continues his attempts at shutting you out, you manage to find loopholes and glue yourself next to him — he refused to answer his door and yet you’re standing right there, completing chores he should’ve done long ago— megumi doesn’t understand why you stick around the way you do.
his voice is raspy as he scrambles up on his bed from his previous position. hand going through his hair in an attempt to tame the mess it’s become when he narrows his eyes at you, “what are you doing?”
you peer over at him, blinking a couple times before straightening and grinning widely, presenting all of your teeth. megumi has to ignore the way his heart skips a beat at the sight.
“cleaning. is that not obvious?” you tease, careful to not allow him to see that those four words made your heart content. he can still complain, so that’s a good sign, you think.
megumi’s mouth runs dry when he monotonously states, “you didn’t even knock.” you did. 13 times to be exact, he counted.
you turn over to him once more, eyebrows furrowing, “you know i did.”
he sighs heavily, rising from his (very comfortable) seat on his bed to join you. he glances at you for a moment, eyes taking in the concentration evident on your face, the way your hands gently fold every piece of clothing like it’s expensive china, “why are you doing this?”
without sparring a glance at him, you respond, “because i care for you, dummy.” and it’s like he’s watching every moment you’ve shared with him in slow motion.
running through the thunderous rain, getting soaked from head to toe, just to remind him of early training the next day. you knew he wasn’t listening, so you took it into your own hands to tell him.
delicately washing his cuts when shoko’s lab was closed off for the night. you saw him walk into the school gates bloody and bruised and even though no one asked you to, you decided to help him.
allowing megumi to sleep alongside you the night after tsumiki was hospitalized. megumi knows you don’t exactly like sharing your space, but you allowed him into your bubble with open arms; you let him sleep right next to you without one complaint.
megumi’s eyes widen in realization, i care for you.
this, what you two have, is so clearly love. he was just too stubborn to notice it.
love is relying on another when your burdens are too heavy to carry, love is within every single bandage you’ve placed on megumi, love is in every shared glance between the two of you.
without a second thought, megumi grabs your shoulders and quickly pulls you to him, “i love you.” he whispers it into your hair, as if it’s a secret just for your ears alone, “i love you so much, it hurts.”
your face visibly softens at his confession, arms dropping the shirt onto the floor, “megumi.”
he closes his eyes in anticipation, don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave.
as if you know what he’s thinking, you place your arms around his waist, squeezing, as you move your head to the side to place a chaste kiss at his jaw, removing those thoughts from further consuming his brain, “i love you more than you’d ever know.”
with his arms tightening their grip around you, megumi knows that if he were to die in the sanctuary of your arms, he wouldn’t mind one bit, not when he knows that love can make even the darkest places shine with light of a thousand rays.
#BASED OFF OF POV BY ARI 🫶#— yuna writes#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi#fluff#megumi fluff#jjk megumi#megumi x you#fushiguro megumi x you#jjk fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#megumi angst#megumi imagine#megumi fic
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No Light, No Light (One Shot)
A/N: Helloooooo agaaain, my lovely dears! It’s been a while, uh? Did ya miss me? I know i’ve missed you! I’m really sorry about the big unannounced hiatus, I just gotta say things happened and well, that’s life. Does that mean I’m back? Kinda, and let’s hope. Meanwhile, pls enjoy this little piece of work, inpired by my fave band F+TM and the song with the same title, go listen to it!! I hope you like it and as always, tell me what you think, come say hello, and update me on what’s been happening with y’all. Love you my dears!! Ive not forgotten about u!!
Lena Luthor x R//Word Count: 1,634
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There is a darkness inside of every person.
A darkness, so hidden and so deep, that once freed devastates everything in its path.
Darkness that turns gentle hands into steel claws and baby blue eyes into violent light, tinted in red.
You remember seeing it once before. A symbol of bravery and hope turning into the city's worst nightmare in the blink of an eye. All good deeds suddenly forgotten and replaced by immeasurable fear. Something you never imagined to ever live it in the flesh.
You wonder how long it has been nesting in her heart as she grabs you by the collar of your uniform and pins you against the wall, threatening to crush your ribs and squeeze your heart if she so desires. But you would be fooling yourself if you pretended not to know the answer.
That's when you think about her. Her green eyes, her playful smile, her soft touch. If these are to be your final moments, you may as well go with a hint of paradise in your mind, instead of the hell that rages behind those eyes.
"You really thought I wasn't going to notice you?" Kara holds your sniper gun with her other hand and smiles. "I could hear your heart beating since you arrived here."
Her hold on you gets a bit too tight for your liking and you hold onto her arm. Your mortal hands can't do anything against her grip and, while feeling your heartbeat hard against your ribcage, you silently course your tell-tale heart.
She moves her head closer to you, a predatory look in her eyes which glow red behind blue irises.
"You should have pulled the trigger when you had the chance." She closes her fingers around your gun, crushing it in half and tossing it to the floor.
She's right.
J'onn had tried to warn you and if Alex had known before she would have given the order too. Now there's no escape and you don't believe you have enough time for a miracle to happen.
"Yeah." You respond with a hoarse voice. "I should have."
By the expression in her face you know you should have regretted your words.
You shouldn't be playing. Daring her in a moment when the word friend has lost all meaning. Hell, you're not even sure if you were even friends to start with. Otherwise, you think, how could this be so easy for her? How could it had been so easy for her before?
The comms in your ear turn on without a warning and her voice it's the only thing that stops your mind from sinking into less grateful memories.
"(Y/N)?" Lena calls you, and you wish you could die with that sound echoing in your ears. Your name in her mouth, even with the evident concern, is the chorus of an angel.
It takes a second for that image to shatter as Kara hears it too and you can tell, by the smirk that her lips draw, she's going to enjoy what comes next. The alarms in your head go off, whatever she's planning, it's nothing good.
"Len-" You try to warn her but the pressure you felt a second ago crushing your chest is now threatening to squash your throat.
Kara's fingers are wrapped around your neck, pulling you up from below your jaw with enough force you have to stand on your toes. You have no other option but to strengthen your grip on her arm, that if you don't want to lose your head.
With her free hand, Kara reaches your ear and pulls your comms out to put them in her own ear.
"Hey, Lena."
On the other side Lena freezes, not expecting her to answer. It takes a moment to imagine the smirk on Kara's face. That smile she used to love, now twisted and dangerous like shark teeth, ready to draw blood.
"Kara, stop. Don't hurt her." Lena pleads.
"Hurt her? No, of course not. We're just talking." Kara turns to look at you, the smile still on her face as she takes the comms and moves them closer to you for a moment. "Wanna talk to your girlfriend?"
You want to scream.
"Sorry." Kara responds after watching you struggle with her hand constricting around your neck. "Seems like she can't talk right now."
"Kara, please, this isn't you. You were poisoned with red kryp-"
"This isn't me?" Kara cuts in. "Maybe this is who I've always been."
Fear comes crawling up your throat as she takes a step back and looks at you.
"I'm one of the most powerful beings on this earth and I had to make herself small for you, so you would accept me, love me. I've spent my life pleasing you just so I could get the scraps. Well, I'm sick of it." You see the moment realization dawns on her. "Maybe I just needed a little push to help me see it."
Her eyes suddenly ignite with a new light, like a spark at the end of a dynamite stick. It leaves you breathless, even more than her hand around your neck.
"Maybe that's what we all need."
You feel some relief as your feet finally touch the ground, letting you rest for moment before she stars to drag you like a ragdoll across the roof.
"I want it all, Lena, not just the scraps."
You're sure Lena is still trying to convince her she isn't like this. That she must stop whatever she's about to do and to please, please, not hurt you in any way. You also know it's of no use as you reach the edge of the building.
Kara lets go of your neck, and you stumble backwards. She grabs you once again by the collar and another playful smile appears on her face, delighting on your fear as you hold onto her for dear life.
By pure instinct, you turn your head right and left, trying to catch a glimpse of what is happening around. From the corner of your eye, you can see the chaos that reigns below in the streets. Down there, you can hear the sirens of police cars and ambulances rushing to help the people of National City.
There are little fires everywhere and no one can seem to put them out.
You remember the fight that caused it all, J'onn and Alex doing their best to keep the Girl of Steel at bay. You saw it all as you looked through your scope, waiting for their signal. When J'onn couldn't move anymore and Alex became paralyzed, not wanting to fight her own sister, you knew you should have moved your finger. Kara's words come to your mind, you should have pulled the trigger when you had the chance.
Now, it is too late for any of you. There's nothing left but the void of the fall that surely awaits once Kara is done with you.
"Poor Lena, always having to rescue you. I always wondered if she ever got tired of that." She raises a brow at you, taking your comms off her ear and finally tossing them to the ground. She doesn't need to listen to Lena now. "Wouldn't it be better if she didn't have to worry about you anymore?"
"She wouldn't worry if you weren't out your mind." You dare, trying to keep your voice from trembling.
"Out of my mind? No, (Y/N), I've never been as lucid as I am right now. I want what's best for Lena. Obviously that isn't you."
"You think it's you?"
"I know I am." The smirk comes back to her lips. "Otherwise, why would she have been with me when she was still with you?"
Rage breaks into you as you realize the meaning of her words. Your hands, wrapped around her arm, hold tighter.
"Oh, she never told you?" She scoffs, feeling like she has already conquered the world. "Then let me tell you, I think you deserve the truth."
The anger is visible in your features as Kara pulls you towards her, keeping you away from the edge just long enough to spill her bane.
"Remember our little mission in the North Pole? When Lena and I got stuck in the Fortress and you were so far away with the team that you couldn't reach us? Well, as you know, I was having a bit of trouble with my powers and while we waited for you, we had to find other ways to keep us warm. If you know what I mean."
Against your will, you remember.
You remember it all.
"I know."
Some of your anger fades. This is a battle you won't let her win.
"I've always known."
Your answer takes her by surprise.
Time stops for a moment, giving you two a second to really look into each other. No more lies, no more pretenses.
"After that mission, it was obvious. Lena never talked about it more than necessary and you avoided the conversation entirely. You couldn't even look me in the eyes."
How different those eyes were from the ones that look at you now.
"It was all the same to me."
The rest of the world fades as you look at each other and your revelation comes out of your lips.
"'Cause, in the end, Lena still chose me."
She chose me instead of you, you want to say.
You think about her once more. Her eyes, her smile, her touch. Her love. Kara frowns as the darkness comes creeping once again behind those baby blue eyes.
"And now she can choose better."
The void behind your back grows claws ready to pull you down, and the light fades as you feel that final push on your chest.
#lena luthor#lena luthor imagine#lena luthor imagines#lena luthor x reader#lena luthor x you#lena x you#lena x reader#supergirl imagine#kara danvers#red kryptonite#red k#one shot#no light no light
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hi lovie, how about “don’t let this one go”? i hope you feel better soon!!
hiiiiii ily 💫 i do feel better thank u!!
eddie’s sitting on his back porch steps when a mug of coffee appears in front of him, grasped in a slender hand. it’s his favourite one—picked up from a craft fair with buck and christopher a long time ago now, worn and a little faded over time.
he follows the arm in front of him all the way up to maddie, her brown hair tumbling around her shoulders and a smile on her face. “hey,” she says, offering the mug.
“thanks,” eddie murmurs. he clasps the mug in both hands, wraps his long fingers around it; he leans forwards with his forearms on his knees, huddled against the chill of the early january morning.
it’s not that cold, buck would scoff if he turned around right now, if he stopped running around the yard with christopher and a tiny, toddling jee-yun for long enough to see.
but eddie gets cold easily, always has, and he welcomes the warmth that floods through him when he brings the mug up to his lips.
maddie settles in next to him with a mug of her own, sitting close like she knows he wants to leech her body heat.
“so,” she says after a moment of sipping their coffees in companionable silence. “are we ever going to talk about the fact that you’re in love with my brother?”
eddie turns to look at her, squinting against the bright morning sun. “you know about that, huh?” he shakes his head, rueful, then glances at buck again.
“i think most people who’ve seen the two of you together probably do, yeah,” maddie laughs.
“great,” eddie mutters. “do you think—does buck—”
“does he know?” maddie asks. “no, i think he might be the only one who doesn’t.”
“well, that’s something,” eddie says.
“you could just—tell him, you know,” maddie says, drawing her knees closer to herself and resting her mug on one of them. “how you feel.”
eddie shakes his head and tries to dive headfirst into his mug of coffee.
“eddie,” maddie says, impossibly gentle. she reaches over to pull the mug away from his mouth, squeezing his hand. “you’re so convinced it’s going to end badly. why?”
“it’s just—not worth it, you know?” eddie says. he scuffs at the porch step with the toe of his shoe, looking down just to avoid maddie’s gaze. she looks at him like she knows just a little too much about him, sometimes, and he’s not sure he can take it right now. “this is good. right now is good. and there’s no chance of either of us fucking it up somehow. it’s—”
“lower stakes?” maddie suggests.
“yeah,” eddie says, blowing out a breath. “sometimes i think—i don’t know, sometimes i look at him and think i could tell him. i think it could be good. it could be—really fucking great, honestly. it could be what i’ve been looking for my whole life.” he laughs, runs a hand through his hair, a little self-conscious, but maddie just hums, in acknowledgement and understand.
eddie sips his coffee, savouring the warmth and the kick of the caffeine waking up his system. “it could be good,” he says again. “but if it went bad—”
“it would be really bad,” maddie finishes for him.
“yeah,” eddie says. “maddie, i don’t think i could live without him. in some capacity. any capacity.”
“i know,” maddie says. “i know what that feels like. i know how scary it is. i know you’ve both been burned before.” she glances out at the yard again and eddie follows her gaze, his eyes landing automatically on buck’s long, muscular form, the strength and grace in his movements and the joy radiating out from him.
“but what if it didn’t go bad?” maddie asks. “is it worth missing out on all the good just to avoid the chance of bad? we get a limited number of good things in this life, eddie. don’t let this one go.”
and eddie’s about to answer, but just then buck turns to face them, his face stretching into a wide smile. he’s got jee-yun up on his shoulders, her tiny fists clenched in his hair to keep her balance. buck kneels down, careful, and eddie watches as christopher takes jee-yun’s hands to help her climb back to the ground. buck checks to make sure jee-yun has both feet solidly on the ground then gets up again, jogging over to eddie and maddie.
“any coffee for me?” he asks.
“in the kitchen,” maddie says. “where normal people keep their coffee.”
“that’s so far away,” buck whines. he sits one step below eddie and swipes his mug, draining the rest of it while leaning against eddie’s side.
“you’re getting the refills,” eddie warns, trying to sound stern but aware that his voice mostly just sounds hopelessly fond.
“sure,” buck says, his eyes drifting shut. “just give me a minute, i’m too comfortable to move.”
buck’s head rests against eddie’s chest, one of his arms thrown across eddie’s legs and his feet tangled with eddie’s. maddie looks at eddie, sidelong over the top of her brother’s head, and he smiles before dropping his head to rest against buck’s.
maybe maddie’s right, he thinks, settling his arm around buck’s waist. we get a limited number of good things in life.
he shouldn’t let this one go.
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Chapter Three (Part 2)
After lunch, Petra stops me in the shop. “Evie.” She says, giving me a big, soft hug. She is the type whose affection knows no limits, and I like that very much about her. “I was talking to Simon about you this morning, did he tell you I wanted to chat with you about something?”
“Yeah, he did actually.” I glance up and wave at Izzy as she disappears back into the studio, and then back at Petra who is pink cheeked and smiling excitedly, so I relax, knowing this is not about something I did wrong without ever realising.
“He mentioned to me that you do window art? For shops and things?”
“Oh, well, I did one time.”
She purses her lips and gives me a little wink. “The correct answer is yes, my dear. When a client asks you if you can do something, you say yes.”
I grin. “Yes, Petra, I do window art.”
“Well that’s lucky, because…” She spins me around to face the large, ceiling to floor window at the front of the shop. “I’d like you to do something for me.”
“Oh!”
“Yes, oh! Oh how exciting!”
“What would you like me to do with it?”
She spreads her fingers and draws an arc in the air with her palms. “Mezzotint. I want everyone to know who we are. The little sign outside just isn’t really cutting it, and I’d like to do something pretty with the window. Maybe something about what we do, if it fits. You know, like, ‘crafts, prints, pottery’ if it will look good. I don’t know what will look good, I’m just the shopkeeper.”
I nod. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”
“Oh, that’d be fabulous.”
“For when?”
“By Friday?”
I think of the Christmas card deadline and feel myself start to sweat a little, but I remember what she told me about clients. “Yes.” I say definitively. “I’ll start tomorrow.”
“You’re too good.” She says, and by then I’m already halfway up the stairs with my mind set on those damn cards. I have serious work to do.
After work I join Shane in the gym for our weekly weights sessions. I’m useless at them, and am convinced I must have been born without any upper body strength whatsoever because even lifting the tiniest weights in the stack makes my arms quiver. Standing next to Shane, whose biceps are the size of my head and whose weights make mine look like toys for children, is an exercise in humility.
“Keep going.” He says as he senses my wavering. “Just a few more and then you can take a rest.”
“Ugh.” I grunt. “How many is a few?”
“A few.” He clarifies, and when I roll my eyes, he does too. “Okay, here, five… four… three… three and a half… two… two and three quarters…”
“Shane…”
He smirks. “Two, and One. Alright, you’re done.”
I toss the weights back onto the rack and shake out my arms. “Jesus.”
“You feel the burn?”
“Yeah and I’m going to feel it even more tomorrow when I’m trying to paint that bloody window.”
“You’ll be grand.”
I sigh and slump onto the floor while he continues to lift the twenty kilo ones like they’re almost nothing. I kick the toes of my shoes together thoughtfully while I watch him from behind, sweat staining his red t-shirt in a big U shape. “I’m going to a gig later on.” I say.
“Yeah?”
“One of the girls I work with, Izzy, she’s a singer with a band and they’re doing some set in a bar at eight o’clock.”
“Ah, cool. I think I know of her. She’s ginger?”
“She’s ginger-ish” I smirk. “Do you think you’d want to come? I don’t know what kind of music it is or anything but it might be nice to like, do something together. You and Claire and me.”
“Don’t think so.” He says. “She’s coming down with a cold, feeling a bit under the weather so I was going to stay over at yours and look after her.”
“God, you’re so angelic. You’re probably going to catch that cold.”
“If she goes down, so do I.”
“You’re so sweet it makes me sick.”
He grins. “Sorry. Next time, maybe.”
“It’s okay.” I sigh. “I suppose I’ll just go alone then.”
“No harm.” He says. “It’s not as if you, like, go out that much anymore.”
He doesn’t mean it rudely, I know, he’s just awkward, so I choose not to take offence, but I really am nervous now, about being left to flail on my own with my new workmates and Jen… and Jude. It all makes me feel a bit queasy and I start asking myself serious questions about what I was thinking when I invited him.
“I ran into Jude today.” I tell him.
He glances over his shoulder in surprise. “Turner, like?”
“What other Jude would I mean?”
“Where?”
“He was outside a cafe in town. It was quite a surprise.”
“Hm.” He says. “I didn’t know he was home.”
“He says he’s around for the next week.”
Shane says nothing for a few curls, and then thoughtfully asks. “Were you like…” A pause. “Were you alright when you saw him?”
“Yeah I was fine. I think I’m probably over all that weird stuff from before now. He was with his girlfriend and everything, and I think it was good for me to actually, you know, like, see her in person. Do you know what I mean?”
His brow furrows. “Astrid?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought they were broken up.”
My stomach does an involuntary flip. “Are you sure? Because he introduced her as his girlfriend.”
“I dunno then, maybe they got back together or something.”
I sit up straighter. “You heard that they broke up though? Definitely? Or are you not sure?”
“No, definitely. He told me.”
“When did he tell you?”
Shane sighs and throws me an impatient look, because we both know I’m asking too many questions for a person who is supposedly over him. “Ages ago, Evie. I thought it was like a year ago, but you wouldn’t know with him, he’s always got some manic shit going on with some girl, I can never keep up with it.”
“Oh right.” I say. “He didn’t tell you they got back together? Cause he definitely said ‘girlfriend’.”
“So she must be his girlfriend then.”
“But you don’t know what happened?”
“No, I don’t know.”
I sigh. “Men are so strange. How can you be someone’s friend and not know these kinds of things about each other? Do you never think to ask? Like what do you talk about when you’re together if you’re not talking about literally the most pivotal and important things in each other’s lives?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “What do you think we do? Lie on the bed giggling, kicking our legs and painting each other’s nails? Gossiping about girls we fancy and all?”
“No.” I huff. “Just if my friend broke up with someone and then just got back together again I’d probably want to know what happened.”
“Is it really that important, like?”
“No.”
“Well then. I don’t know what happened. Let’s move on.”
“Ugh!” I stand up and start making headway towards the dressing room.
“Hey!” He calls out. “Get back here, you still have two more reps.”
“Oh, kill me.” I mutter, and stomp back to snatch the weights back off the rack again. “When I get fired for being unable to hold a marker tomorrow I’m blaming you.”
“You’ll thank me for your toned arms eventually.”
“Yeah. Piss off.” I stick my tongue out at him and he just lowers his head, shoulders shaking gently with laughter as I start up another tortuous rep.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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hello i’d like to check out a movie please 📽
it goes something like this: you and steve go on a date but pick each others outfits!! and while you know Exactly what you want him to wear, you expect him to kinda halfass it cause he’s a “guy” so just a dress and heels etc but he surprises you and has a full top to bottom to shoes to jewelry all with Reasons like “you wore this on our first date” “your ears looked so pretty/they made your eyes shine” “i honestly just really like your legs in this but i remember how excited you were to wear it to that cancelled event so here’s your special occasion excuse!”
maddie… why ofc, hawkin’s finest can help you with ur movie finds!! this is such an adorable idea and it fits stevie just so well because he is absolutely is the type of guy that pays this level of attention <33 this yet again proves i cannot and will not shut up
the way it comes about is all bcos you— well, you have all your opinions when it comes to steve’s clothes. some of them are just fine, yanno the plain polo’s and such, and you swiftly tucked the pair of khaki’s he had to the baaaaack of his drawers when u first found them because absolutely not- but steve can tell when he wears something you like, even if you’re not aware of how you react. there’s always an extra moment of you drinking in the sight of him, eyes lingering, and you always end up toying with the collar of his shirt if you really love it and christ, the first time he wore those new jeans that are now your absolute favourite, you’d slid your arms around his waist and tucked your hands in his back pockets and made him blush up to his ears. and steve, well, he definitely has his favourites too- how could he not when you look like that? and you’re his? drives him crazy
he’s the one who suggests it, funnily enough. a picnic but with a twist, he says as you both lay in bed in morning and discuss what sort of mischief you both might get up to today— “a twist? what sort of twist?” you ask, lifting you head off his chest and peeking up at him. his arms around your waist tighten and he smiles, a bit nervous for a moment, then says, “s’bit dumb but- well, like we could pick what each other wear? like, i don’t know—“ you interrupt him, “yes.” “what?” “yes, let’s do that,” and grin in a way that told him you did actually want to do that. “that’s such a good idea steve, when you’d think of that?” and he gets all bashful, trying to distract you by stroking a soft touch across your hair, “just now, i- well, i was thinking bout what i’d hoped you’d wear today, actually”
“well, don’t ruin the surprise” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his check and wriggling up and out of his hold. steve’s makes an whiney complaint, hands already reaching for you but you dodge them and slip out of bed, tailing straight for the the chest of drawers. you barely get one draw open and your hands in it before steve’s arms are around your middle, having scrambled out of bed, and you’re hoisted up and away— you can’t help your little squeal, batting at his arms as he scoops you up and to the side- “steve! what are you doing?” and he puts you down, arms still around you, peppering kisses down your neck til you’re doozy with love and nearly distracted, “i wanna pick first, you go shower” he murmurs and really, you can’t say no to him
when you’re squeaky clean and wrapped in a towel, you toe back to the bedroom with relatively low expectations even though your heart glows at your boyfriend’s sweet idea. steve will always compliment you, there’s never a day you don’t hear how he thinks you’re the prettiest ever or how lucky he is to have you — but details, look, they just aren’t steve’s thing, you’re more than okay with that, he’s a big picture guy. so what you’re expecting is that he’ll have picked one of your dresses, short and sweet, maybe the pair of mary-janes that are your favourites, and a hair-clip if he’s really dedicated; but this? this…. is not what you expected
steve’s gone back to a bit nervous, betrayed by the way he runs his hand through his hair when you come in- it sticks up in strange ways that tells you he’s been doing it obsessively in your absence. still, his smile is sure and he gestures to the bed where his picks lay and you blink as you take them in— steve seems to take your silence as a bad thing, mouth opening and a ramble falling out, “okay, it might look a bit of a mismatch but- there’s a reason for it all, okay? like-“ he gestures to the t-shirt, one you haven’t worn in some time though you do like it, “this one, i don’t know if you remember but you wore it on our first date :) and it always yanno, reminds me of that,” and fuck, if you liked it before, you fucking love it now because he’s right, you wore that on your first date with steve and you had your first kiss with him in it, out by lover’s lake. your heart glows hotter as you realise how much steve is going to shatter your expectations with how much he has thought about this because he fucking notices these things
“the skirt because… well, i remember you really liked it in the store- quickest decision i’ve seen you make actually,” he huffs a laugh, gives another nervous run through his hair, “but you don’t wear it a lot which i don’t get because you look great in it and,” his smile turns to a bit more of a smirk, one you know well, “i’m a guy, okay? i’m not gonna deny that i love your legs in it,” his gaze drops to your currently bare legs and you roll your eyes at his flirts, “eyes up here, harrington.” he has the decency to look a bit sheepish, ears pink, before moving on, “the earrings i think match your eyes and the necklace is the one i gave you, so :)” and damn, you might not make it out the house if he keeps this up- your chest feels like it’s filled with pure fucking light and some wet-sounding laugh escapes you and steve is stepping close til he’s in front of you, brows bunched in his concern, “oh man, was it too much?” and you’re shaking your head, clearing you throat, “no, no, definitely not. it’s just…. i guess, i didn’t think you remembered all that stuff,” and steve gives an appalled look, before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “sweetheart, i remember everything about you,” he says, with a dopey grin that lets you know with completely certainty you’re so well loved by him <33
#things that i didn’t put in cos it got too long — u pick up the shirt#steve’s picked out the laciest underwear he could find LMAO#you’re like DAMN harrington planning on getting laid on this picnic???#and he’s like noooo but it’s nice to know you’ll be wearing it :) even if i can’t see it :) yet#hehehehe#maddie this was big brain idea i love u so hard#steve drabbles#ruby’s very own tour of hawkins#long post#sorry no read more for this it doesn’t quite warrant it think#IM NOT DEAD#IM STILL WRITING
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Batfam as things my friends have said
based on this post
*at a gala*
Tim to Bruce: See that door? I was just told we need to leave right now or the house will explode
Jason: Pops a party popper
Tim: AHHHHH
——————
Dick: he looks like he’s having fun
Tim: bork bork
——————-
Jason: i’m kinda too big for it and i hit my titty
Damian, a 5 yr old: tit-ty
——————-
Dick: play super freak by britney spears, it’s britney bitch
——————-
Jason: eat her whole W H O L E i had the emphasize that
——————-
Babs: telling them the vibes made you do it wont hold up in court
——————-
“his flaps are still winging” - Tim, about moth Steph brutally murdered
——————-
Jason: i have his brains on my finger
Tim: cowabummer
——————-
Dick: Duke is supposed to be asleep but he’s singing justin bieber
Tim : there’s more important things in life than sleeping
Dick: apparently
Tim: yes always
——————
Steph: i can’t draw boobies, Cass ur a lesbian help me draw boobies
Jason: i’ll help you draw boobies
——————-
Jason: you wanna go!?!
Tim: no!!
-five minutes later-
Jason: Tim, i’m sorry i threatened you
—————
Steph: why are u like double jointed in ur throat ur like hyahyahya
—————
Steph: can we hold toes?
Tim: no
Steph: take ur socks off
Tim: don’t undress me!
——————-
Jason: i’ll shove my foot so far up ur ass you’ll taste my.. dinner
Bruce: where did you find this guy
Damian: craigslist
Tim: wish
——————-
Bruce: don’t do illegal stuff! unless ur dad is there!
—————-
Dick: does my hair smell weird?
Duke: it smells like wet
—————-
Jason: it’s crackin, like my momma
#batman#batfam#batsiblings#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#duke thomas#incorrect quotes#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#barbra gordon#damian wayne
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tlc | mark lee
[mark takes care of u when ur sick. roommate au. pure fluff. alt version on ao3 is also mine]
-
So, you’re sick. It’s just a small bug, nothing you can’t handle. Sure, you can’t keep food down and you’ve got this chill you can’t shake, but you’re not dying or anything. This is the disclaimer you gave to your worrywart of a roommate, Mark, when you had asked him to bring home some plain crackers and gatorade.
You’re sitting on the couch during sundown. The house is clean, save for the plastic bag of used tissues leaning against the couch. There’s a documentary about some obscure cult in the sixties on the television, and you’re wrapped up in your most comforting blanket. It happens to be Mark’s, taken from his room. The weight of it feels like a hug, and it smells of him, like that vanilla lotion his mom ingrained into his head to use after showering.
With the volume of the television, you barely hear Mark walk through the door. When he sets a takeout bag onto the coffee table, you finally look up, “Oh hey, Mark. What’d you get?”
“I got you soup, Dork,” Mark says. He sits on the table, long legs causing his knees to brush against the edge of the couch and subsequently, your sock-covered toes. When you look at him, you realize he’s pouting. “You said it wasn’t that bad.”
“It isn’t,” you assure him, but you follow it with a cough to your elbow. You wonder what you look like to make him think it’s worse than it is. “I’m fine.”
“You’re sweating.”
“But I’m cold.”
Mark hums. His cheeks and nose are rosy from the winter air, which makes him look even more adorable than usual. “Tell you what: eat your soup before it gets cold. I’m gonna go set up the bathroom and run a bath. I’ll put some salts and oils in there that are good for congestion, and when you’re ready you can come warm up. Maybe it’ll draw the fever out.”
“I don’t have a fever,” you argue.
Mark opens the soup container and hands it to you, along with a spoon. “Whatever you say.”
You try to take your time with the soup, but it takes you a little less than ten minutes to drain the bowl. You're left with a weight in your stomach that chases away the nausea you’ve been feeling all day. You dump the bowl in the sink and head into the bathroom.
Mark had grabbed a pair of your comfiest pajamas and underwear, and set them on the sink counter along with a fluffy towel. The overhead light is off, replaced with a lavender scented candle on the rim of the bathtub. The water is practically steaming, and he’s set up one of those bath pillows so your neck won’t get tired. You’re so thankful the two of you ordered that thing one drunken night.
“Don’t undress yet,” he calls from down the hall. He comes in with his tablet and hands it to you, along with the stand he usually uses when he wants to watch videos. “You can finish your documentary on here!”
Thank God for shared accounts, because Mark sets the tablet up so that it’s right where you paused it in the living room. You watch him work, fiddling with the buttons and fitting the stand on the closed toilet so that it won’t fall into the tub. With fondness, you realize he hasn’t even shed his coat yet, his only goal to make you feel better. He’s often doing that: sacrificing his needs for yours.
And it warms you from your head to your toes. Even more so than the fever, you’re dizzy with the realization that Mark loves you, in whatever way that may be, enough to do all of this for you. You want to repay him, but it will have to wait until you get your energy back.
You do what you can, though. When he stands up, you hug him tight, loving the small sound of surprise that escapes him.
-
Mark turned down your blankets while you were in the bath. There’s a bottle of water on your bedside table and two small pill capsules. You take them, thankful he didn’t get the liquid medicine your mom used to make you drink. You end up draining the water bottle, not realizing how thirsty you were.
You’re almost ready for bed when you realize you still have his tablet, so you make your way across the hall and knock on his door. A sudden shyness overcomes you and has you averting your eyes when he opens the door, finally dressed for his own comfort. “Here’s your tablet back. Thanks for taking care of me, Mark.”
“Always.” Mark isn’t smiling like usual. He’s got this sincere look on his face, furrowed brows and straight mouth, just daring you to defy his gestures of love. “I’m always here for you. You know that.”
“Of course I do,” you assure him with your own look of surety. Some voice in the back of your head is calling it love.
He leans down to kiss your head. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll keep my ringer on in case you need me.”
“Goodnight, Mark.”
“Goodnight, Dork.”
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Yo can I get some soft caruki and azushin headcanons
I’m giggling, I was just having shower thoughts abt Azushin (yeah fuck Caruki- TRY ME//j pls don’t blow my ask box again))
Yk the drill, long post below
Azushin >>>
Azusa likes text more than calling or FaceTime, he’s unsure why (probably because he doesn’t have to hear himself sound awkward through a device)
Azusa likes giving Shin good morning and good night text messages- Shin doesn’t mind it but he does get rosy each and every time
Saying “I love you” back and forth goes on for forty minutes with these two, it’s obvious who started it over text
“Have a good day…I love u :)”
“I love you too”
“I love u more… :>”
“No I love you more”
“Try me…”
“I FUCFCKING LOVE YOU 🫵💖🔥💖❤️⚡️⚡️❤️🎆💖🔥💖🎆”
Shin, believe it or not, gets more sick than Azusa. If he had a cough out of nowhere, Azusa gets concerned
If it’s Azusa who gets a cold or something seasonally, Shin will NOT let him leave bed for an ENTIRE week
Shin can cook, but not create an amazing breakfast in bed for Azusa (Though he tries for his bby and that’s all Azusa can truly ask for)
Yk those TikTok’s or cosplay videos where people do like the heart shape with their hand and then the other person fills in the other side? Yeah, they do they too
(Something like this gngngngngng)
Shin had to teach it to Azusa and that was the cute part
[Insert Azusa going “…Ohhhh…!” Here at the shape of the heart being formed]
Going to make y’all orgasm over Azushin and say Azusa has a littttttle collection of bandages you’d put over small cuts (like if you slice your finger)
He’d have some looking like this (I think Azusa is cute like this)
Shin HATES them so DAMN MUCH, but he only lets Azusa put them on him if it’s a cut not noticeable (such as the face//cheek)
Did you guys orgasm? I hope so//j
Caruki >>>
THESE TWO PLAY CARDS, END OF THE ASK BYE 🏃♀️ 💨
Carla is really good at Flush as Ruki isn’t as much, Ruki is good at Poker and Carla isn’t at ALL
They like to make bets with each other (Ik you asked for SOFT headcanons, but these bets can also result in kinky punishments)
Carla likes when Ruki washes his hair for him, he’s king after all but the way Ruki does it is HEAVENLY
Try getting Ruki to paint with Carla and allow him to do better (Yes, a competition is made of who can draw the perfect circle ever)
TIC TAC TOE GAMES ARE CRAZY, THEY’LL PLAY FOR HOURS
I’m sure Carla doesn’t know what a coffee maker is or how to properly use one, he tried to be nice and add cream into Ruki’s coffee made for him and thought putting the cream through the coffee maker would steam it
It costed a lot to get a new one
I’m cackling this one: Azusa and Shin being together and it being the four of them is like being two moms meeting up at the park
Did I tell you Carla doesn’t know the definition of boiling water? No? Here >>>
#diabolik lovers#diahell#azusa mukami#mukami azusa#mukami ruki#ruki mukami#tsukinami shin#shin tsukinami#carla tsukinami#tsukinami carla#azushin#caruki#carla x ruki#nixxio ask#nixxio headcanons
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Peacemaker S1 Ep3 Better Goff Dead live watch
tagging @tinalbion in the subsequent posts for this <3333 thank u for convincing me to finally start it 🗣️🗣️
-“we know who she is we don’t need to know how much she enjoyed having sex with you” “what if it’s a clue?” “it’s not” “fair. i was just trying to slip it into conversation. hope nobody noticed. my bad” JFKWODNKWD stop bc why do i enjoy christopher sm rn 😭
-he’s just funny!!
-theM YELLING AT VIGILANTE FRIM BEHIDN THE TRASHCAN AND HES LIKE “why do i have to leave i’m just looking from behind a trashcan” IDKSKJD
-ur honor… he’s perfect
-“are u a psychiatrist?” “WHAT?” “then don’t tell me what’s normal!”
-vigilante wants to be chris’ best friend :3
-“even tho i mostly kill white people so…catch ya guys later :D”
-LEOTA AND CHRIS AND ADRIAN NEED TO ALL BE BFFS BY THE END OF THIS SHOW. DO U ALL GET ME.
-lets kill a senator baby
-WHY DO ALL PEOPLE WHO THINK PRO WRESTLING IS REAL THINK CLIMATE CHANGE IS A HOAX
-goff is a little butterfly
-VAGINA
-him laughing so god damn hard at her stop
-CAN THEY JUST TELL HIM WHAT A BUTTERFLY IS
-a butt baby 😭😭
-judomasters little suit
-“any questions?” “yes…is scissoring real i keep getting contradictory reports” “i always suspected u were a butt baby from the beginning” STOPPPPP bffs
-“what? i’m an ally!” “having a lesbian haircut doesn’t make you an ally” I LOVE HER
-let’s see if he can draw the dove of peace
-nope yeah looks like a ghost
-“there. there’s a feeling of mine” murn is just like me
-murn is so funny actually hehe
-she’s sharing her trail mix w him and he’s putting everything that’s empty calories back 😭😭
-not the berenstain va berenstien bears fight 😭
-HEHEH
-judo master eating cheetos he’s just like me
-“i’m not a fucking drawer >:(“
-them shit talking amanda in front of her daughter D:
-the way he is sitting on the ground JDNWOJDIS
-anyways. christopher and emilia weirdly flirting and bonding over their shitty fathers and childhood >>
-i’m glad he doesn’t want to kill kids anymore and is like,,,, becoming a better person
-NOT VIGILANTE FIJWKFJSJD
-vigilante-mobile 😭😭😭😭
-“dude they know ur here get out of the bushes” “i don’t know what ur talking abt” JFKWOFNKWF
-them STILL fighting abt the berenstain bears JDJEKDJJE
-what is this goop
-OH EWWWW
-their butterfly mouths
-is he gonna be able to do it
-he’s :( guys he’s making me sad
-is vigilante gonna do it for him :3
-damn all 4
-JUDO MASTER SAVES PAPA BEAR
-here comes murn 🗣️
-“obviously he feels anger -_-“ JFMWODNWK
-HE STABBED ADRIANNN
-judo master kicking adrian’s ass 😭😭
-harcourt getting mad that leota didn’t want to kill the secret service guy but this whole time she’s been talking abt how they don’t kill innocents and then killed an innocent so 🤨🤨 what’s the truth
-emilia FUCK OFFFFFF
-i am forever in the leota defense squad
-judo master w the cheetos once again <3
-“ur fucking adorable i wanna put u in my pocket. i wanna take u home and play with u with my gi joes”
-“remember when i fucked you up?” period
-the senator is kind of … SORRY
-the soundtrack is so good
- torture time 🗣️
-NOT ON ADRIANS NUTS
-JUDWJIDND judomasfwr flipping peacemaker off like exactly
-they pulled adriens mask and he’s changing his facial expressions 😭😭
-fuck you christopher.
-MY POOR BABY
-james better stop judomaster from leaving
-“uh…maybe you could just give him a little” no fr
-“NO NOT THE FUCKING CAR YOU LITTLE FUCKER”
-“WHAT? my pinky? why me again???” :( STOP BEING MESN TO HIMMM
-the way his face dropped when christopher said to cut off all his toes he deadass went 😦
-HES RLLY CUTTING HIS TOE OFF???
-can these bitch hurry up and blow the fucking door down AND SAVE HIM
-OR CAN HE UNTIE HIMSELF FASTER???
-“WHY IS IT NOT COMING OFF?” “BC UR BLADES R DULL AS FUCK MAN WHY DONT YOU MAINTAIN YOIR TORTURE SHIT??”
-murn getting blown up
-JUDOMASTER LISTENING TO KPOP LETS GO
-HELDOFNAKCN
-JAMES JUST KNOCKED RHE FUCKKKK OUT OF JUDOMASTER W HIS TRUCK
-blew his head off <3
-damn knocked him out of the car and everything 😭
-HE HIT HIM W A CROW BAR AND THEN BACKED UO AND KEEPS DOING IT
-him laughing 😭😭😭 “ECONOMOUS MOTHER FUCKER”
-adrian :3
-OH ITS A BUTTERFLY INSIDE THEIR BRAIN
-economous dancing like exactly
-the butterfly design is cool
-OH DAMN there’s a lot of suspected butterfly’s
-like a LOT
-ok end credit scene
-“but if you just be chris smith people might actually like you” 🥹🥹
-ok i’m excited for episode 4 bc uhm. adrian in his little prison jumpsuit…..gulp
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u
pairing: elliot x fem!reader
warnings: swearing and drug usage.
request: can u do one where the reader and Elliot are friends, but they both want something more and then at school or a party the reader is talking to a guy and then Elliot gets jealous and admits his feelings?
a/n: sure thing baby, i hope you enjoy!
words: 751 + not proofread
i’m so tired of you taking advantage of love. it could be “u.s.” there’s too many letters but it’s only you, only you.
a cloud hung in the air and you struggled to go open Elliots window.
“i’m gonna fucking die.” you wheezed before finally getting the seal up and breathing in some fresh air. you heard Elliot laugh from the bed behind you before you heard his laughter draw closer and his hands were pulling you back flush against him.
“you’ve always had baby lungs.” he teased. you snorted and elbowed him before turning in his grasp and walking back over to the bed, you needed to put your shoes on. Jules and Rue would be over in any minute to head to a party.
“whatever.” you mumbled flexing your toes in the material. you lifted your head up and squinted at him. he his brow lifted, his tattoo moving above it.
“what?” he asked you while walking to sit by your bent over form.
“last time we went to a party you literally ditched me to go get high and you know where this party is. tell me where you’re going so i don’t go wondering around crying again.” you said pursing your lips. Elliot bursted out laughing at your face and the memory.
when you had finally found him in someone’s guest room with power still on his face you had mascara smudged under your eyes and could barely form a sentence. when he first saw you he was scared and nervous, but when he found out you were crying because you couldn’t find him he thought it was cute.
you slapped his chest for laughing at your pain. “oka-okay!” he called out over the hits.
grabbing your hands he pulled your wrists together before pulling them to his own chest.
“okay doll face. i promise i’ll tell you where i am at all times.” he smiled at you before you both heard footsteps approaching is room. you both pulled away just before Rue came dancing in, Jules laughing behind her.
“let’s go!” Rue giggled at you two. Jules stood in the door way ushering you all out.
you knew Elliot and Rue were in whoever’s house this was mom’s room, but you wished he was with you instead. you spent the last five minutes trapped between the counter and some dude you didn’t know the name of, but you knew he knew Nate.
“are you seriously still looking for Elliot?” The boy who’s name you couldn’t remember asked you for the second time.
you sheepishly laughed nodded. you felt bad ignoring him, but you didn’t give a fuck about what he had going on.
“listen,” he said grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. you thought you were close enough already, but now it was too much. “he obviously is out doing something better so how about you.” he said pointing at you. “hang out with me.” he said pointing his thumb at himself.
“she won’t be doing any of that shit.” you heard from beside you before your body was yanked into Elliot’s direction.
when Elliot came downstairs he went to the couches where he last saw you with Cassie. she was gone, you were gone, and instead he saw Nate and Maddy arguing. turning around he headed to the kitchen and when he got there he could barely see you peaking outside from behind some dude he had seen in the halls.
he was kinda hurt. you had told him time and time again jocks weren’t yours type.
“i’m here aren’t i?” he asked the stunned boy before dragging you back upstairs and into the room where Rue was.
“do you like him?” he asked looking down at you after he locked the room door behind you.
you blinked at him in utter confusion. he knew you didn’t like boys like that. Elliot grabbed your shoulders and bent down in your face when you took too long to respond.
“do you. like him.” he repeated. you rolled your eyes at the boy before shaking your head.
“of course not.” you told him. as soon as the words left your mouth his mouth connected to yours.
“the fuck do y’all got going on?” Rue questioned as the two of you pulled apart. Elliot placed his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes.
you didn’t expect your first kiss with him to take place in Bradley from 6th periods mom’s room.
“good, because i like you.”
#euphoria imagine#elliot euphoria#elliot imagine#euphoria x reader#euphoria#elliot x reader#rue bennett#jules vaughn#rue x jules#maddy perez#maddy x nate#cassie howard
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*.⋆ʚ NOTES HE WOULD PASS TO YOU IN CLASS!
with: bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, atsumu, kuroo, suna
isabelle says: found old notes i passed with my best friend where we mostly just flirted terribly fml and thought this was a cute idea
ʚ BOKUTO
*.⋆ HE SENDS LIL DRAWINGS
*.⋆ loses his concentration super easily so he’ll be writing down math notes and then out of nowhere there’s a talking volleyball befriending an owl in the corner of his page
*.⋆ both you and akaashi have pencil cases full of his little artworks (he gifts them to akaashi when they study together)
ʚ OIKAWA
*.⋆ if he didn’t see you in the morning before class it’ll just be full of backhanded compliments
*.⋆ pls hes so annoying just like ‘i’d never be able to pull off such a messy look, go you!’ ‘yes! normalise not caring what others think <3’
*.⋆ don’t worry just show our bby iwa-chan and he’ll sort him out <33
ʚ IWAIZUMI
*.⋆ ugh this boy is perfection, just telling you how head over heels he is for you ‘god ur so pretty, can’t believe ur mine’
*.⋆ ok that’s cute and all but i can imagine him getting STRESSED about being caught passing the note and having to read it aloud
*.⋆ so he waits for the teacher to turn and SPEEDS to throw the paper at you, almost falling out his chair in the process and making it so so obvious
ʚ ATSUMU
*.⋆ GAMES! uses scrap paper to play dumb primary school games with you i swear
*.⋆ got so salty when you played m.a.s.h and ended up with osamu as your future husband, dude is just so dramatic “fine have a nice life with yer new boyfriend ‘SAMU”, thinks he’s the absolute master of tic-tac-toe, only kita can ever beat him and it makes him so mad
*.⋆ also just pelts paper at you and pretends to innocently look around the room as if he didn’t do it
ʚ KUROO
*.⋆ PLS this boy isn’t sending over a piece of paper no no, it’s his whole scientific calculator
*.⋆ either something really dumb like ‘60065’ and he thinks it’s hilarious when you just look at him questioning your whole relationship
*.⋆ or he uses the letter keys to type out his pick up lines and it literally takes him fifteen minutes to type out a single sentence but he’s always so proud of himself ‘chemists do it on the table periodically, shouldn’t we?’
ʚ SUNA
*.⋆ dares you to do random things for his entertainment ‘lol dare u to just start laughing loudly whenever the teacher says the word silence’ (your teacher has taken his phone away for trying to record you SO many times that now he has to give it in before lesson starts)
*.⋆ you guys get so competitive with that one game where you have to drop in a random word, chosen by the other person, while talking to the teacher
*.⋆ you’re out here making him ask “miss will the history of the loofah be on our next test?” when you’ve literally been looking at ww1 all semester
#*.⋆ʚ☁️iove fluff#haikyū!!#anime#atsumu x reader#suna x reader#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#kuroo x reader#bokuto x reader#hq x reader#hq#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons
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Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"
word count: 3.5k
includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...
rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).
a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞
“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.
“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.
Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.
Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.
“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.
At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.
Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.
“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.
“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.
“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.
He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.
You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.
He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.
Aaron clears his throat.
“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.
“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.
You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.
“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”
Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.
You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.
“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”
“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.
“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.
“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.
“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.
He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.
He takes in a breath.
“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.
“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.
“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.
“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.
His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.
“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”
Aaron lets out a huff.
“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.
“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.
“Why is that?” You prod.
“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.
“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”
Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.
“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.
“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”
He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.
You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.
“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.
“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”
He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”
“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.
He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.
“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.
“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”
_____________________________________________________________
By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.
Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.
“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.
“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.
You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.
“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.
“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.
“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.
You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.
“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.
“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.
“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.
“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”
“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.
Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.
Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.
“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”
You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”
Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.
“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”
You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”
“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.
“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.
“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”
You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.
You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.
You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.
You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.
“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.
“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.
“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.
Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.
“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.
You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.
“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.
You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.
“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.
“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”
“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.
“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.
“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”
“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.
“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.
“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”
“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.
“Aaron?” You repeat.
He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.
“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.
“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.
“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”
“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.
“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.
_____________________________________________________________
The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.
It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.
“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.
“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.
“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.
“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”
You snort, amused by his confession.
Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.
“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.
He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.
“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.
As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.
You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.
“You know, Aaron,” you begin.
He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.
“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.
“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.
“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”
#my fics#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x female reader#cm fanfic#criminal minds x reader#my content#aaron hotch#hotch#hotch x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfic#h0tchner#derek morgan#emily prentiss#penelope garcia
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Canon Dabi x insecure reader where she’s insecure about her body since she’s not thin. She voices it to him after seeing a pretty and smaller girl flirt with him, and he shows her how much he cares for her? NSFW pls! Thank u!
stop your whining [dabi x fem!reader]
A/N: I didn’t proof this so bc I really wanted to post today also I’ll be posting my 1k event soon! - Anako ✿
Genre: canon-verse, smut, drabble
Word Count: 1.5k+
Warning: unprotected sex, breeding, degradation
You continue to twirl on the bar stool, your attention long adverted from the chatter dispersed around you. It wasn’t an uncommon for you to tune out of the league’s conversations, especially when the topic was new recruits. New female recruits. To be honest you didn’t think new recruits within the group was necessary, but then again it wasn’t your call. You rolled your eyes at the thought and let yourself tune into the girl riding Shigaraki’s dick, desperate to receive a compliment.
“I really admire your ideologies. I’m willing to follow through with any task given. Any task given.” She enunciates, taking a step closer towards both Dabi and Shigaraki. Her small stature made her seem sweet, cute even, but her eyes had mischievous intent. The two men glance at eachother exchanging an understanding look before, looking back to the girl.
“Thank you for your interest. We look forward to your loyalty. Kurogiri be a gent and show her out.” Shigaraki, responds.
The girl grins as if she just had an interview and was sure she got the job. As Kurogiri shows her out you watch her sway her hips, the skirt she’s wearing a little less than admiring. After Kurogiri is out of sight you sigh in relief.
“Thank god that’s over. Fucking groupies, this is getting old.” You sigh raising from the bar stool.
“Her quirk will be of use to us.” Dabi shrugs.
“Shapeshifting? Tch, isn’t that what we have Toga for?”
“You think I’d drink animal blood?! Gross Y/N!” The blonde exclaims, partially offended.
“Wouldn’t put it past you babe.” You shrug, “I’d rather you be able to do both that way we don’t have some groupie in the league.”
“Why so judegmental now Y/N? Aren’t you all about giving people chances and bullshit like that?” Dabi snarks, shoving his handing into his pockets.
“Not skanks,” you reply, “Well, maybe she didn’t come off as a skank to you seeing as you were pretty friendly.”
“Jealousy is fucking ugly on you.” Shigaraki rasps, opting to leave the room with the others rather than hear you bicker with the black haired male.
“Jealous? The hell is there to be jealous about?!” You shout, the leader sending you the finger before leaving.
“Shigaraki’s right.” Dabi agrees, beginning to stroll away to his room, “It’s also a huge turn off.”
“Turn off ? It’s not like I ever turned you on. You’d rather the skimpy skinny bitch, right? She seems more your type.” Dabi stops to turn around to face you.
The expression on his face was unreadable but the aura he was emitting was deadly. He then inches toward you causing you to take little steps back.
“Y/N.” Is all he says and you stop right where you are. As he closes the space between you he grabs your arm, the force of his fingertips crushing into your muscle.
“The room. Now.” He grits, shoving you in front of him.
“Don’t fucking shove me. Better yet keep your hands off of me. ” You mumbled, making your way down the hall.
When you enter the room Dabi slams the door behind you.
“So fucking unnecessary,” you voice, back turned to him.
“No, your fucking unnecessary. And fucking look at me when I’m talking to you.” He demands gripping your shoulder and flipping you around.
“Didn’t I say to keep you damn hands off of me?!” You hiss, pushing his hands off of you. Dabi, refutes by taking a death hold on your waist, pushing you into the foot of the bed. His hands grip tighter and eventually your sides begin to run hot, the smell of singed clothing flooding the air.
He draws closer to your face, he gets so close you can feel his breath ghost over your lips, “Now listen you fucking brat, I don’t know what your problem is but you better fix that shit real fast. I don’t like to play with bratty bitches.”
“Your the bratty bitch,” you bark. Dabi’s lips draw together before he pushes you over the footboard and onto the bed. He then climbs inbetween your legs and loops his fingers around what’s left of your belt loops.
“You can either tell me what your problem is now or you can wait until my cock is rupturing your fucking cervix. ” he offers, pulling your pants off along with your underwear.
“Do your worst, bitch.” You spit.
Now I know it seems like that was a badass move, but it was a bad decision to say the least. Dabi was never a gentle lover and now that you’ve pissed him off, he definitely wasn’t going to take and precautions. You were being a bitch and if the only way to fix that is fucking you, then so be it.
Without any care he yanks you up and takes off the remainder of your clothing. Your lips purse into a thin line, the feisty part in you wanting to say something, but with the mood you had put him in you knew better. In one motion your back hits the mattress once more.
The male on top of you doesn’t even bother stripping from his clothing. You watch as he undoes his zipper and shimmies his pants below his hips. He sucks air into his mouth before pushing it out causing spit to fly onto your slit as well as his cock.
He then grabs the back of your knees, his fingertips still hot from the incident earlier, and throws them onto his shoulders.
“Don’t open your mouth until your ready to tell me what the hell is wrong with you,” and with that remark he plunges the whole of his cock into your pussy. You let out a shaky gasp which is quickly met by a hand around your throat.
“Not a fucking peep.” The male urges, drawing out of your folds before thrusting back in. He slams his hips into yours hard enough to send you moving forward on the mattress. The sheets beneath you losing there stability. Your pussy clenches around his length in an attempt to lessen the impact of his thrusts.
“Stop clenching. Your gonna rip my dick off,” he growls, and it sends chills through out your body. Dabi had such a disgusting mouth, vial even, but in the end it’s only added to your pleasure. The pleasure which you couldn’t admit you were indulging in. The thought of Dabi fucking you with no mercy only made you want to piss him off more.
Your voice ached to be heard as he continued to fuck your greedy pussy. The sounds of slapping and low distasteful grunts echoed off the hollow walls as he continued to reek havoc on your slit. The closer he got to cumming the closer he neared your cervix.
“You know what? Your fucking cute like this. Being a stubborn fucking brat. Making me fuck you just to get you to act right.”
Cute? Through the rough pleasure that you were feeling that word made something burn inside you.
“Cute? You don’t think I’m fucking cute.” You wither through labored breaths. He takes the pressure off of your neck, interested in trying to hear you explain yourself as he pounds your cunt.
“And why wouldn’t I think your cute, mm?”
“Because you were into that thin bitch. Talking to her, grinning at her. Bet you couldn’t wait until I left so you could fuck her.”
“If I wanted to fuck her I would’ve fucked her. But here I am balls fucking deep in my cunt. In the pussy that belongs to me.” His vulgar words, spark a heat in your tummy, leaving your insides twitching.
“So that’s what the attitude was for? Because you thought I wanted to fuck some rando?” He chuckles before taking the back of your thighs into his hands. He then pushes them back as far as they can go before pulling the length of his cock out, leaving only the tip. Your hand scrambles to meet his stomach but by the time your fingers meet his skin he’s already eight inches deep in your pussy. The head of his cock kissing your cervix.
“Dabi!” You cry out, your toes curling as he slams the weight of himself into you. The boy leans down and places a tart kiss on the shell of your ear.
“So pretty when you cry out like that.” You whimper at his words and weakly shove at his chest.
“Take some out. I told you what was wrong.” A feeble whine lacing your tone.
“I know that’s what we agreed on but your sucking me in. I couldn’t pull some out if I tried.” He whispers, dragging his tongue up your ear. You groaned, squirming under him it was as if he just kept adding inches. Nevertheless the pain you felt was something you were use to, something that you only used to add to your pleasure.
“Gonna cum.” You cry out as he rhythmically fills you up, his cock crashing against your womb again and again. You feel you thighs tremble as your body locks up around him. Your hands slam down gripping the sheets as your orgasm courses through your body. Dabi moves his mouth to kiss you as he lets his own orgasm spill into you. Once you regain your breath you lazily push him off of you.
“Heavy.” You mumble, grabbing the sheets to cover yours self, but before you can pull them over your chest they’re ripped from your hands.
“Don’t.” He demands, letting his hand trail up and down your lower abdomen as he lays he head on your chest, “Let me rub here. It’s cute.”
“Stop calling me cute.” You say rolling your eyes.
“But that’s what you are. Your a damn brat as well but your beautiful, perfect body, perfect smile. It warms my shallow ass heart.” You fluster at his words as he continues his actions.
“Dabi don’t say-.”
“Will you be quiet?” he sighs, “I love you. Your perfect. I wouldn’t dare think of another girl so stop your whining.” You obey and entangle your hand in his hair .
Nothing else needed to be said on your part or his. You were aware of you over exaggeration of the situation and you were glad you had a boyfriend who cared enough to hear you out, even if it was after destroying your cervix.
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here comes the bride, all dressed in pride
summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend
pairing; jungkook x reader (f)
genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone
w.c; 17.3k
a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty
prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”
if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share��💕
Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”
You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”
In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.
And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.
Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.
“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”
Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.
“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”
Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.
“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.
“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”
“As if you care.”
“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”
You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.
Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”
It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.
“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”
Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”
Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.
“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”
“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”
“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”
“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”
Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.
“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”
And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.
“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”
“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.
“How did you two even meet?”
“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”
“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”
“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”
And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.
“Of course,” you raise your glass.
“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”
“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”
And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.
“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”
“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”
“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”
“Don’t ask questions.”
Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”
“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”
He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.
You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((
You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.
You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.
Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.
Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?
Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.
“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.
At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.
“How was the walk over?”
“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”
Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.
“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.
And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.
“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”
“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.
Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”
“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”
He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”
“It… was mildly cute.”
“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”
“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”
The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.
“Is that why you never hung out with us?”
“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”
Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”
You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.
“So what’s the plan?”
“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”
His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”
With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.
Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.
“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”
“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”
“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.
“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”
Oh, this is going to be interesting.
Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.
His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.
“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”
Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.
“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”
“I do like Valorant.”
“He likes pork belly.”
“I do like pork belly.”
“He’s ripped as hell.”
“I am ripped as hell.”
“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.
“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”
“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."
"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”
“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”
“Okay yes one bad example—”
“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”
“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”
“See? It’s a mutual decision.”
Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”
"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”
"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"
"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."
"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”
“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.
Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”
“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”
You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”
“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.
“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.
“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”
“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”
“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”
Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”
“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”
“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”
You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”
Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.
“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”
“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”
And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.
You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.
“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.
Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”
“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”
While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.
“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”
“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.
“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.
“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”
Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”
“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”
“Right,” you answer reluctantly.
“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”
You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”
Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”
Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”
“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.
“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”
“Only if you want to.”
“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.
“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”
“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”
Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.
“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”
“But, Namjoon got us a table—”
“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”
His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”
“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”
“Sounds good.”
“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”
“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.
“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”
Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.
And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.
You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.
By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.
He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.
“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”
“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.
“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”
“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.
“Pray tell.”
“She’s jealous of you.”
“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”
“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”
You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”
“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”
Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”
“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”
“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”
You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?
“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.
You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.
“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”
Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.
“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”
You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.
He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.
“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.
“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”
He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.
“We’re in Vegas, baby!”
Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”
Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.
Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”
“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.
“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”
You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”
“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”
Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.
Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.
But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.
One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.
“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.
“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”
“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”
“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”
The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?
“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”
“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”
“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”
“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”
“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.
“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”
The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.
Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”
Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”
“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”
“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”
“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”
Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.
“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”
You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”
Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.
“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.
“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.
“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”
“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.
“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”
“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”
“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”
“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.
“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.
“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.
“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”
Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.
“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”
The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.
“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”
“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”
The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.
“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”
At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.
“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.
Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.
“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”
“But this is different!”
“But Doyeon’s family!”
“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.
“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”
Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”
“Deal.”
You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.
Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”
Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”
“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”
“Yeah, I will.”
“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”
“Excuse me—”
“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”
“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”
“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”
“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”
“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”
Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?
“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”
“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.
“Is it something urgent?”
“Well, no but—”
“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”
“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.
Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.
“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”
The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.
Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.
On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”
You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”
He shrugs, “Looked around.”
“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”
“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”
Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.
Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.
“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.
“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.
“I wanna come!”
“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”
“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”
“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”
“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”
“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.
By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.
Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.
The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.
Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.
But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.
“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”
“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.
“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”
“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”
“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”
“Then more kisses?”
“Then more kisses.”
Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”
You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”
Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.
Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?
Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀
Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting
Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…
Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u
Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious
Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.
“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.
“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”
“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”
The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u
You: lool, why do u look constipated
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile
You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN
You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.
“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.
“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”
And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.
“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.
“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”
You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.
You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.
“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”
“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”
“Because it’s tradition!”
“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”
“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”
You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.
Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.
From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.
Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.
The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.
As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.
Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”
Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.
You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?
Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.
You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”
Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.
Jungkook loves your family.
(Except Doyeon.)
As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.
Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.
But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.
Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.
He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.
When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.
“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.
You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”
“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”
You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”
“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.
“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.
Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.
“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”
“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.
He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.
The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.
Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”
The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.
The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.
You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.
“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”
You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.
“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”
“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”
You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.
“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”
And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.
Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.
Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?
Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.
“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”
“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”
He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”
He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.
You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”
“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.
“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”
“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”
“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”
“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.
“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”
“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.
“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”
Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.
Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”
His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.
But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.
“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”
“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”
“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”
Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”
He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!
The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.
He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.
“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.
“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.
In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”
He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”
“Thanks, Jungkookie.”
He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.
As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.
Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.
“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.
“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”
“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”
“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”
He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.
“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”
Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”
“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”
Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.
But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.
And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.
Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.
It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.
The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.
The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.
But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.
You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine
When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.
So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.
Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”
You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.
“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”
“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”
“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”
“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.
Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent
Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.
The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.
He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.
“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”
You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”
“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”
“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”
“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”
“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.
“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”
Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”
“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”
“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”
“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”
You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”
Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”
“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”
“You’ll have to get through me, first.”
Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.
Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”
“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”
“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.
“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”
“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”
You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”
“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.
“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”
Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.
“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.
Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”
As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”
As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”
The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.
“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”
“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.
Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”
You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.
“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”
“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”
“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.
“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”
The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.
“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”
Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.
The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.
There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.
Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.
As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.
And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.
Or?
Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?
“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.
“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”
“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”
Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.
All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.
“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.
You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”
“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”
“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”
“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”
You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”
That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.
You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.
“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”
Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.
“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”
“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.
“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”
Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.
“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”
Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.
“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”
Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”
#jungkook x reader#gcn23#goldenclosetnet#btsghostie#kwritersworldnet#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts angst
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⤿𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 💢
bakery special; tamaki has always been shy, quiet, reserved. sometimes however, you manage to pull a more.... primal part of him to light.
warnings; smut, lots of it. very little plot, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex [wrap before u tap, angels!], possessive language
dessert pairing; tamaki amajiki x fem! reader
a/n; it was requested someone write tama+breeding kink, & who would i be if i didn’t indulge ?
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your back hits the mattress with more force than you’d been prepared for, the air rushing out of your lungs like a prayer — sometimes, you forget just how strong your pro hero boyfriend is, beneath the shy smiles & blushing cheeks.
tamaki’s eyes are dark, flooded with unspoken lust as he slowly advances towards you on the bed. slow, like a lion, circling a wounded gazelle before pouncing — you gasp as he hovers over you suddenly, attacking the sensitive skin of your neck with wet kisses & harsh bites.
it’s a sharp change from his usual careful demeanor, & you can’t help the giddy rush that slips through your stomach & straight to your slicking folds; it wasn’t easy to get tama like this, but you were well versed in the practice, & you almost always succeeded.
it starts with a t shirt — specifically, one of tamaki’s, preferably one of his looser ones so that it swamps your frame. his favorite pair of panties underneath, lacy and delicate and a light color, barely any fabric there to cover your ass. no bra, hair loose & eyes low, sultry in the way you sneak up on him in his office. “need anything?” you ask gently, hugging the doorframe with a smile, & you can see every nerve in his body light up instantly at the sight of you.
“i was thinking of stopping by mirio’s, he offered to help me with this one exercise i’ve been struggling with,” you add, the cherry on top of a tumbling tower of emotions that flip a switch inside of your normally gentle boyfriend. he’s not easily jealous, but the combination of your — lack of — clothing & his best friend’s name falling from your lips when you looked so ready to be fucked sends him up the wall.
he’s quick to stand & you’re quick to bolt, you laughter leading a trail for him to follow through your shared apartment. he catches you against the bedroom door, hands hauling you up by the thighs to press you up against it & kiss you senseless, nipping your lower lip to shove his tongue inside your sweet mouth.
now, he’s got you pinned, rocking his hips into yours as he kisses a wet trail down your neck; large hands slip under your - his - shirt to squeeze at your hips, pinching your ass to hear your squeals. he’s rougher, more demanding, & you know you’ll be littered with bruises head to toe once he’s finished.
his hands come together to pull your thighs apart, tugging your panties down with his teeth none too gently as he eyes your soaked cunt. you’re used to him being quiet, so his voice startles you just as much as his tongue does, pressing flat & wide against your swollen clit. “this is mine,” he snarls, low & firm, & all you can do is nod helplessly. he doesn’t like that, hiking your thighs up over his shoulders to bury his face into your wet heat. “i said,” he repeats, impatience laced into his tone as he presses a harsh kiss to your clit again, “this. is. mine.”
“it is, it’s yours tama,” you promise immediately, arching into the rough, languid strokes of his tongue; he had an absolutely sinful mouth, & he knew every little trick & tease to make your legs tremble. he’s quick to squeeze your thighs, coaxing his tongue inside your warm, velvet walls as his nose nudges your clit with every stroke.
you can barely keep yourself together, hands in his hair and tugging as he laps & sucks at your clit, determined to watch you cum with his head between your legs. his pace quickens with every whimper & whine from your lips, taking them as personal challenges — he wants to make you louder & louder, loud enough for everyone to hear & know exactly who you belonged to. one finger slowly curls inside you, then two as he traces his name over your clit, over and over until you’re seeing stars.
your orgasm washes over you like a storm, thighs trembling against his hands as he guides you through it, tongue lapping circles around your clit as you settle down into the mattress once more.
he wipes his face with the back of his hand, eyeing you hungrily as you shyly tug up your shirt; you know what that look means, & you’re quick to comply as you hold your legs up by the backs of your thighs.
he settles between them again with practised ease, yanking off his shirt & kicking off his sweats in the process. his boxers are tugged down last, the material straining & wet from his leaking cock as he strokes himself languidly. he takes your thighs in both hands, pushing them up higher as he allows you to guide his cock into your waiting, wet heat.
the first thrust always leaves you both breathless, you from the unimaginable stretch of his cock inside you, him from the way his cock fits so snugly inside your wet, velvety walls, like you were made just for him. tamaki recovers first this time, however, desperate to bury himself inside you over & over to stake his claim, & he sets a brutal pace.
“tell me, bunny. tell me exactly who you belong to, who gets to fuck you like this,” he demands, face buried in the hollow of your neck to bite and suck a mark right where everyone can see. his hips don’t slow, & you can barely focus on his words as you claw at his bare back. he tsks under his breath, letting go of one of your thighs to press a harsh slap to your ass.
“you’re not listening, bunny. are you a bad girl, thinking about someone else fucking you like this?” he warns, and you nearly sob from the feeling.
“nuh uh, no tama, only you, you get to -ah! fuck, only you get to fuck me,” you promise, moans bordering on a pleasured scream as he angles to hit that one spongy sweet spot inside you; muscle memory guides him to it over and over, sending you barreling towards another orgasm without preamble.
he doesn’t stop, not after you’ve come twice, three times; he’s determined to fuck you until you’re properly bred, dripping with his seed as he fucks it further and further into your needy cunt. it’s the ultimate form of possession in his mind; knocking you up with his child so that everyone knows exactly who you belong to, who’s fucking you raw and desperate every night.
his thrusts start getting sloppy, rougher and slower as your wet cunt swallows him in deeper and deeper. you can tell he’s close by the way his breathing shallows out, muttering absolute filth into your sweaty skin as he fucks you through another orgasm.
“that’s right bunny, cum, cum all over my cock like a good girl, and i’ll give you all my cum,” he promises, hips slamming into yours with renewed purpose. “gonna fuck you full bunny, gonna give you all my cum till you’re leaking, gonna knock you up until you’re big and swollen with my baby, fuck!” he’s hooking his arms around your thighs to draw you flush to his chest, cock pressing right up against your cervix he’s so deep, painting your walls with his cum as he fucks it into you slowly, carefully.
you know he won’t pull out for awhile, determined to keep his cum as far in you as he can, but he gently holds you close against him, the telltale flush rising to his cheeks, the tips of his ears. how he can go from the absolute animal he was just a moment ago, desperate to breed you full & proper, to the shy, embarrassed lover you now cover in sweet kisses is adorable, really.
“i think i’ve done enough exercise today, no need to go to mirio’s,” you tease, & he flushes even brighter.
“you did that on purpose, bunny,” he whines, but he doesn’t let you go, merely sinks into your kisses.
who could blame you, when it gave you sex like that? and who could blame you for cuddling him the rest of the afternoon, snuggled up to each other under the covers ? you were in love, & maybe a little sore.
no complaints here.
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[pastry taglist; @heroheads @kingtamakimurder @redbeanteax @secondhand-trash ]
#bnha x reader#bnha smut#tamaki x reader#tamaki smut#tamaki amajiki x reader#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#boku no hero fanfic#boku no hero smut#tamaki amajiki x you#tamaki amajiki x y/n#evywrites#bnha fanfiction#bnha fic#evy’s getting frisky
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