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dragonologist-in-the-making · 3 years

Text

Paper Rings

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Summary: On his first ride to Hogwarts, James befriended the girl who was obsessed with shiny things. Over their schooling together, their friendship turned into so much more.

A/N: lmao I suck at summaries. Also I’m back sorry for the random hiatus (and sorry that posting will almost definitely not be consistent after this either). I had this idea months ago, inspired by Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings, and I only just got around to writing it asdfghjkl. Still obsessed with James though rip me I just want someone to love me like this.

Warnings: Mentions of eating (briefly), otherwise just a lot of fluff.

Wordcount: 4k (wow)

...

Little James Potter waved goodbye to his parents as the train took off from the platform, nervous about his first journey to the infamous Hogwarts, but excited to discover all the great things his parents had told him for himself. First though: finding a carriage.

Trying not to show his nerves, he wandered along the corridor, peeping into the carriages to see if there was one he could join. For the most part, he found them all too full, too loud to juggle his nerves, or the students too old and intimidating. The days would come where James would rule the corridors of the castle, but the eleven year old boy on the train was just hoping to make a friend he could share this new adventure with.

As fate would have it, he found just that and so much more. In a carriage to herself sat a young girl, his age, her face turned away from him looking out the window. The only thing he could see was a petite sparkling bow, sitting neatly in her (y/h/c) hair.

Without thinking about it, he knocked gently on the compartment door, sliding it open as she turned to look at him inquisitively. Her (y/e/c) eye’s glittered as her lips pulled into a smile, creating a complete sense of comfort for James to ask. “Do you mind if I sit?” She nodded eagerly, gathering up a few books she had dumped on the opposite seat and dropping them into her lap. “I’m James.” He smiled.

“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a short while, listening to the laughs of older students, friends reuniting after a summer apart, and watching the landscape whip by them out the window.

“I like your bow, by the way.” James spoke up, feeling glad he did when an excited smile broke across her face, looking as if he’d told her she’d won the lottery.

“Thank you! I love the way it sparkles.” She said, gently pulling it from her hair and twisting it in the sunlight, showing how rainbows danced in the glitter and were thrown across their compartment. Satisfied, she used it to clip back the hair that was now falling into her face, and their conversation moved on, following each and every thought they were having, becoming fast friends. James didn’t think the journey could get any better until two boys showed up at their door and asked if they could join them, setting everlasting friendships in stone.

As the train pulled up to Hogwarts, any nervousness James had been feeling was gone. Instead, the only thought he had was that he couldn’t be more glad he sat in the compartment of the girl with the sparkling bow.

…

Their first year passed in a blur, and the Marauders spent the majority of it in each other’s company, laughing their days away.

Now, summer had come and gone, and their second year at Hogwarts was in full swing. They walked into their charms class together, laughing about a joke Sirius had made at James’ expense. (y/n) sat next to the curly-haired boy at their desk, as Remus Sirius and Peter sat at the one adjacent to them.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I didn’t make the team last year! No first year has made a house team in like 80 years! I’m telling you though, I’ll make it on this year, and I’ll be the best chaser this school has ever seen.” James protested, huffing as he put his textbook in the middle of the table for him and (y/n) to share. She laughed at him softly, hand patting his shoulder as the other boys got lost in their own conversation.

“I know you will, Jamie. And I’ll be there cheering you on every step of the way.” His cheeks redenned at her words, but luckily their attention was turned away by Professor Flitwick.

“Now students, the charm I’ll be teaching you today is more of a fun one to start off the year than anything you’ll likely need in your everyday lives. As always, I don’t expect you to create chaos by using these charms” – he turned his gaze to a particular group of students at this point who were all busily looking elsewhere – “but simply to enlighten yourselves and to show you what magic can do. So, the charm we’ll be learning today is how to make things glitter.”

James heard an almost inaudible gasp next to him, and he could feel the excitement radiating off (y/n). He chuckled, expecting nothing less; he’d known her for a year now, and if it wasn’t the bow in her hair there was always something shiny on her at any given time.

Flitwick talked about the details of the charm, how it could be applied subtly, only giving a faint sheen, or how it could be made much more obvious. Finally, he gave them the charm and told everyone to repeat after him. “Now, like I said, just because this is a fun charm doesn’t mean it’s an easy one, and I don’t expect you to get it on your first attempt. Just keep repeating the charm and-oh!” He broke off suddenly, just as James’ vision went hazy. Once he’d focused, he saw he was surrounded by a cloud of individual glitter specs floating around them, almost as if they were in their own galaxy. His gaze shifted to its centre, shining most brilliantly of all as her proud and excited smile dazzled him, making him forget entirely they were still in their charms classroom.

“Well done Miss (y/n)!” Flitwick’s voice broke through their bubble, and slowly each star seemed to fade out of existence, until they were back in their regular old classroom, thirty pairs of eyes trained on them. “You certainly felt the spirit of the charm and went above and beyond. 10 points to (y/h). Now, if you could help Mr Potter whilst we all get back to it!”

Chatter burst out the classroom almost immediately, partners working together trying to enchant an object of theirs to take on the glittery effect. Sirius turned to her, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Becoming a teachers pet now are we, (y/l/n)?” She rolled her eyes back, waving her wand to produce a cloud of glitter that settled in Sirius’ hair, contrasting sharply against its darkness.

“It’s sparklesSirius, what did you expect? Now c’mon, this is the one lesson I won’t let you not do the work in. Make some glittery greatness and I’ll bake you all some cookies when I next steal James’ cloak to go to the kitchens.” With those words, the three boys turned their entire focus to the task at hand, while James still seemed slightly awestruck next to her. “You alright, J?”

“That was amazing (y/n/n). I had no idea you could do that.”

“Well I guess you can’t know until you try.” She shrugged, picking up her quill and placing it in front of him. “Charm my quill.”

“Why me? You could just do it yourself.” James asked, confused why she didn’t do it herself since she was clearly more than capable. Once again, she shrugged, looking into his eyes as she uttered the words so nonchalantly that would stick with him for years to come.

“Well, Flitwick said you needed to practise. Plus, it’ll mean more to me if every time I look at my quill I know that you’re the reason it’s shining.”

Within a heartbeat, James had uttered the incantation and a subtle shimmer had settled over the feather, imperceptible until it was moved and caught the light. The smile he saw when he looked over at (y/n) made him vow to himself that as long as he was around, she would never have an ordinary quill again.

True to his word, every time she brought out a new quill, he was quick to snatch it from her and place the simple charm on it. It became an unspoken promise between the two of them, and every time James saw that sparkle from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

. . .

True to her word, (y/n) was there for all of James’ games, cheering him on from the side of the pitch, always the first to reach him when the game was over. High or low, win or lose, she was always there to remind him that he had played amazingly, and that she was proud of him.

After one such game in their fourth year, Gryffindor narrowly losing to Slytherin, she was at his side so quickly that he would have thought she had apparated if he knew this wasn’t possible. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders. “Oh, James.” She quickly ushered him off the pitch before he attracted eyes, assuring him that Sirius and Remus would collect his things from the changing room and bring them back to his dorm. Once they reached his dorm, she sent him to shower, promising that she would be there for him once he was back.

Sure enough, he came out of the shower in fresh clothes and damp hair, and she was still on his bed, patiently waiting for him. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation, and as soon as he took it she pulled him to her side and once again enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Jamie.” She whispered, squeezing him momentarily before drawing back and looking into his glassy eyes.

“Shouldn’t be.” He murmured, avoiding her gaze. “We lost.”

“And yet you scored more goals than anyone else the entire game.” She pointed out, sincerity lacing her voice. “It’s just because the snitch is worth a stupid amount of points, honestly the game has a lot of flaws.” James smiled weakly, they often had these debates about Quidditch and it always ended in some silly way.

“I did hit Malfoy in the head with a Quaffle.” He admitted, and (y/n) could see the weight falling off his shoulders.

“The highlight of all our years.” She laughed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little box. “I got you something.” She handed it to him, and he pushed it back to her, head shaking, doubt returned.

“No I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Keep it.”

“We already had this argument and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She shoved the box into his hands and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to open it.

Reluctantly, he pulled the lid off the box to reveal a snitch, the snitch he normally kept on his person at all times, now shining with a slight iridescence. James looked up at her, thankful but a little confused at the present.

“I’ve actually been saving it for when you lose a game. Which has been hard because that’s hardly ever.” She broke off to give him a playful glare along with her words, quickly broken by her soft smile. “I know you play with the snitch when you have a lot on your mind, and when you start to doubt yourself. I wanted to remind you that you’re incredible and you should believe that yourself. So, when you see the snitch and you see it sparkle, you’ll think of me, and you’ll remember how great you are.” He was speechless, and in the silent air, she did what the two of them did best, and started to nervously babble. “Well, that’s assuming you think of me when you see sparkles, and quite frankly after all this time I’d be slightly offended if you didn’t-oof” her rambling stopped when James tackled her into a hug, knocking them both back onto the bed.

“Thank you.” Was all he said, but she could hear the emotion behind each word, everything he was trying to communicate. All she did was hold him tighter.

It was then that Sirius and Remus walked into the dorm, carrying all of James’ equipment from the game, causing James and (y/n) to jump away from each other. Blushes arose on both their faces, not that the other would have noticed, each too busy looking at opposite walls of the dorm. Sirius and Remus exchanged a knowing look, but decided to let it slide, knowing there was an inevitability to it anyway.

…

Once again, (y/n) was boarding the Hogwarts express for another year of school. She knew this year would be a stressful one, with their OWL exams coming up, but she also knew that as long as she had her boys by her side, she would be absolutely fine.

Speaking of her friends, she was currently walking along the train trying to find them. She knew that Lily and Remus were prefects now so they’d be at the front of the train, but she was struggling to find anyone else. Eventually, she found James, sitting in a carriage by himself, absentmindedly watching the view. She chuckled to herself at the situation, the reverse of their meeting all those years ago.

She slid the door open, catching his attention and his ever-so-addictive smile. “Got room for an old pal?” She asked, sitting next to him when he patted the seat, his hand enveloping hers as soon as she had, a silent communication. I missed you.

“I was starting to think you’d gotten cool and forgotten about me.” He joked, nudging her playfully.

“Piss off Potter, I was always cooler than you.” She teased back, glad to see that nothing had changed despite their time apart. It never did, they were always James and (y/n), inseparable no matter how hard anyone tried. “Where is everyone?”

“Lils and Moony are doing prefect duties, and Sirius enlisted Peter’s help to try and sneak into their carriage and get the insider information.” He rolled his eyes light-heartedly, forming air quotes around Sirius’ words as (y/n) laughed, eyes closing in amusement. “What’s that on your eyes?” James suddenly asked, stopping her laughter short as she tried to figure out what he meant.

“Oh!” She remembered. “I went to see Lils in the holidays and she was showing me this glitter eyeliner that muggles wear! Why, do you not like it?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if it really was too much despite Lily’s reassurances. It was a subtle white, but still, it was glitter on her face.

“The opposite!” James was quick to answer, rushing so much to not hurt her feelings that he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying. “I think you look really beautiful (y/n/n), with or without the makeup. Besides, the glitter brings out your eyes.”

At this point, they were both blushing furiously, and James was still holding her hand, neither of them willing to let go. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile to herself, and remembered to thank Lily for the recommendation the second they were in the dorm together that evening.

…

James climbed the last step into the astronomy tower, seeing (y/n) leaning against the railing already, gazing into the night sky, a blanket and an array of snacks out on the floor behind her.

It was a ritual they’d started who knows when, a chance to wind down and escape the chaos of everyday life, to enjoy each other’s company and to feast away on whatever snacks they had managed to stow away for these evenings. Tonight’s selection looked to consist mostly of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, with the occasional sugar quill hidden amongst the rest. “Heavy on the sugar tonight, I see.” He broke the silence teasingly, settling himself so that he was sat at (y/n)’s feet, still able to see the clear night sky above them.

“If I don’t consume my own bodyweight in sugar I think I’ll pass out I’m that exhausted.” She commented back, sinking down next to him. Automatically, his arm wound around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her head. There weren’t words to describe the feeling of pure content as she melted into him, completely at ease.

She reached out and grabbed a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and handing the card to James with a sigh upon seeing it was one already in her collection. She bit into the chocolate, her gaze on the night sky as his was unable to break away from her, the way she settled so peacefully against him.

“The stars sparkle too, you know.” She broke the silence, voice quiet but still holding its signature melodic tone. James finally broke away from looking at her, joining her eyeline and looking at the constellations above them. Even though he wasn’t taking astronomy as a NEWT, spending so much time in the tower with (y/n) as she mapped the sky meant he knew precisely what he was looking at, and traced the constellations with his eyes.

“You know, six years of friendship and I don’t think I ever asked you why you like shiny things so much. I always just accepted it as a part of who you are.” A smile graced her face as she unconsciously twiddled her fingers.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned, and he solemnly shook his head. “I think there’s something so entrancing, so beautiful about them. I think it serves as a reminder that even the most seemingly dull thing,” she picked up another chocolate frog box at this point, waving her wand to create a light sparkle over it, “is wonderfully brilliant if you just remember to look at it in the right way. It’s a lesson we should all carry with us, and I try to remember it whenever I can. Everything is beautiful if you give it a chance.” The sparkles on the box faded in the moonlight, as (y/n) finally looked up at James, only to find him already staring back at her.

Body thinking quicker than brain, seeing her (y/e/c) eyes glimmering up at him, James leant down and pressed his lips to hers. She stifled a gasp, quickly moving her lips back against his as her hand wound gently around the back of his neck. He poured all of his admiration into the kiss, everything he had been feeling for her since he didn’t even know when, feeling his heart soar to be here with her in that moment.

Eventually, they broke away for air, and a breathy laugh fell from (y/n)’s lips, blush rising on her cheeks as she turned her face away. James reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers and gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that train carriage. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, your soul. I didn’t even realise the outside matched until we came back from that summer you spent with Lily. But god, every day since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I like you, (y/n/n). I really like you.”

Around them, a shimmering cloud exploded simultaneous to a wide grin spreading across (y/n)’s face. It was their own galaxy, just like all that time ago in the charms lesson, but she was still in the centre, still giddy with excitement. “I like you too, Jamie.” Her smile turned a little sheepish. “And sorry, I think my emotions got a little out of control.” The star-like sparkles slowly dissipated around them until there was nothing left, and this time it was (y/n) who leaned up to James, connecting their lips one more time.

“You taste like chocolate.”

“I’m sure that must be awful for you, Potter”. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing would be the same either.

…

James was sat on the floor of his dorm, textbooks open in front of him, although this late in the day he was struggling to pay any attention to them. What he was focused on instead was his girlfriend, tucked into the alcove of the windowsill, absentmindedly writing away on a piece of parchment.

Her (y/h/c) hair was in plaits down her back, and in the candlelight the silver threads that James had helped her braid in this morning were casting light across the room that shifted with every little shake of her head or shrug of her shoulders.

“You’re staring again, Jamie.” She chastised, although the humour was clear in her voice. He pushed himself up from the floor with an exaggerated groan, making his way over to her and pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Can’t help it love, you’re an actual angel.” He didn’t see it but he knew she’d be rolling her eyes as she buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“Stop being so cheesy.”

“As if you don’t love it.” She pressed a kiss into his chest, resting her head against him as she went back to her writing. He tried not to pry, but he couldn’t help but catch notice of his name and his interest piqued. “Who are you writing to?”

“Euphemia.” She replied nonchalantly, not pausing her actions as he took a step away, face scrunched in confusion.

“My mother?” she paused at this, looking up at him with false exasperation.

“Do you know many other Euphemias?” She deadpanned. He shrugged, admitting her fair point, moving back to her side where she immediately snuggled back into his warmth.

“How long have you been writing to my mum?” She paused for a second, contemplating.

“Since the start of term I think. She sent an owl, I responded, we haven’t really stopped talking since. Oh, I’m coming over for Christmas by the way, she invited me. Said it wouldn’t be Christmas without the whole family there” (y/n) looked up at him, flashing a mischievous grin, expecting him to whine childishly like he normally would, complaining that he was supposed to ask her. Instead, looking more solemn than she’d seen him in a long time, he crushed her against him, holding her so tightly before he leant down and connected their lips. The kiss was bruising, but it was packed with adoration, and it left (y/n) slightly breathless. He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath back. “What was that for?”

“I love you. So much. You’re absolutely perfect, and I swear, I can’t wait until the day I can put a ring on that finger and make it official, make you a Potter for real. I promise, it’s going to be the most sparkling, dazzling gem you’ve ever seen. It’ll shine just as brightly as you, and it’ll always remind you that you’re beautiful, in every way, and just how much I love you.” Her hand had come to rest on his cheek, smiling throughout his little speech, parchment cast aside and forgotten about at this point.

“Don’t be silly, James.” She laughed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I love shiny things, yes, but I don’t need one to be reminded of how amazing you are, or how much I love you. Hell, you could ask me to marry you with a paper ring and I’d still say yes in a heartbeat. I’m saying yes to you, to a life. You don’t need to win me over with some ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery.” He nodded slightly, pecking her lips before moving back to where he had been sat on the floor.

(y/n) picked her parchment back up, continuing on to the letter she had been writing to Euphemia Potter, unable to help themselves from planning the Christmas festivities despite it being early November.

Deep in concentration, she startled slightly as she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. She looked to the side to see her boyfriend once again, although this time he was knelt before her, holding up a piece of parchment that he had hastily fashioned into a ring, coupled with a sheepish smile.

Laughing merrily, she hopped down from the windowsill, pulling him up by his jumper and kissing him passionately as she slid the piece of paper onto her finger, looking forward to the day when they were older, when they could promise this for real, knowing that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to love each other unconditionally.

When James first stepped on that Hogwarts train, he was hoping to find a friend he could share every moment with for the next seven years. He had found that in her, a best friend, now a lover, for seven years but for so much longer. The girl with the sparkling bow turned out to be his soulmate, and he sent a prayer of thanks to the stars every day.

#harry potter #harry potter fic #james potter #james #potter #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #prongs #prongs x reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #james potter x you

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sungsungie · 3 years

Text

NCT Dream’s reaction to you being sleepy — — — — — — — — — — — — —

nct dream x gn reader !!

fluff (*^▽^*)

Mark

omg. he LOVES this.

when your little drowsy self sluggishly walks in you guys’ shared room to cuddle he can’t help but find you adorable !!!

“hey baby, tired?” he says, as a smug smile and wide eyes sits apon his face.

“mhm” you lazily nod while crawling ontop of him to rest your head on his chest and closing your eyes.

*soft mark activated*

absolutely MELTS

running his fingers through your hair, he asks “long day, huh?” in a quiet tone.

you nod your head, all while feeling his hand in your hair and another beginning to rest on your back.

you open your eyes as a surge of happiness and content runs throughout your body, looking up at mark and smiling.

“I love you” you say, softly giggling, admiring his features.

he smiles and leans down to softly kiss your lips.

“I love you too.”

Renjun

he comes home to you about to fall asleep watching TV in the living room.

istg he’s literally crying inside you’re so cute stop AAA

giggling and smiling, he slowly walks up to you and sits beside you on the couch.

“whatcha watchin?” he says suddenly and startles you, waking you up from your half sleep-half awake trance.

“uuughh Renjunn!! you made me spill my popcorn” you say with a frown.

he does a tight smile, trying not to laugh at your jumpy nature. “aww i’m sorry, you’re so cute you know”

giggling, you lay your head on his shoulder as his hand comes up to keep your head still on it.

feeling so safe and content with Renjun, you feel yourself starting to drift off to sleep.

he takes notice of this and looks down at you. “goodnight sweetie” he says, leaning his head ontop of yours, joining you in dreamland.

Jeno

after a long night of talking and laughing, you start to get sleepy.

“i’m tired” you say as you scoot closer to lay your head in jeno’s lap.

he looks down at you and runs a finger along your jaw.

“and very pretty”

you giggle and turn your head over to hide the redness that has creeped up to your cheeks.

“nooo let me see that pretty face y/n~~” he says, gently turning your head back towards him.

at this point I think it’s safe to say if you look him in the eyes for any longer your heart may burst out of your chest.

on that thought, you turn your whole body to lay more comfortably in your boyfriend’s lap.

“goodnight jeno”

he smiles and caresses your cheek. “goodnight y/nnie”

definitely stares at you sleeping for the next 10 minutes before getting some shut eye himself.

not in a creepy way tho🥺

Haechan

you walk into haechan’s room, shutting the door behind you.

you see him gaming on his pc.

walking up behind his chair, you rest your hands on his shoulders, making him look up at you.

“hi babe” he says, smiling while pulling you into his lap, facing him.

“hello” you say laughing. “someone’s happy to see me”

“i’m always happy to see my favorite person” he says, turning around with his back facing the pc so there’s more room.

he starts kissing you all over your face, making you giggle.

“stop hyuck that ticklesss”

“he smiles and keeps kissing you, until he hears you quietly yawn.

he leans back in his chair. “is my y/nnie a sleepy baby?” he says teasingly while looking up at you with doe eyes.

“stopp” you say as you hide into the crook of his neck shyly and proceed to laugh.

after sitting in comfortable silence for a bit, haechan breaks it by saying “night night princess… I love you”

“I love you too hyuck.” you say as you close your eyes.

Jaemin

on the ride home in the limo, jaemin noticed you getting a bit dozy and pulled you in closer to him.

he rests his hand on your thigh, sighing.

“aghh today was tiring wasn’t it y/n” he says softly, looking at you.

“yes it was” you say, letting your head and body go limp on him.

he smiles, reaching a hand up to move the hair out of your face, kissing your cheek.

“you’re so beautiful” jaemin says proudly.

you sluggishly open your eyes and back up to look at him, eyes still refocusing as you grab his face and pull him in for a kiss.

the kiss was long, soft and passionate, making you smile.

slowly pulling away and resting against jaemin again, you fall asleep.

he realized how quiet you’ve gotten, so he looks at you and just watches with pure love in his eyes.

he gives you another quick peck on the lips. “night, cutie.”

Chenle

you and chenle had been having a quick pre-sleep makeout sesh, which had gotten kinda heated at the end, leaving you both breathless and tired.

as you both lay beside each other, looking at the ceiling, one of you finally speaks up.

“so.” chenle says, looking at you.

you both laugh and you quickly reply with “so..”

“that was tiring” he says, still quietly laughing.

“ya think? you reply in a jokingly sarcastic manner.

chenle sits up on the bed, looking at you.

“c’mere”

you look at him and smile, also sitting up and placing yourself beside him.

“did you know that flies buzz in an F key?”

you laugh and start playing with his hands “no I didnt, you should sing a duet with one sometime”

he cackles and kisses you on the forehead as he feels you put all of the weight of your head on his chest.

“you’re SO heavy oh my god I think you’re gonna crush me” he says jokingly

you turn to him and do a cute-angry face and lightly slap his cheek. “yeah right bighead”

you both laugh and sit there, just enjoying eachothers presence until the two of you drift off to a comfy slumber.

Jisung

sung comes home from a long day of practice, placing his bag by the door and walking into you guys’ room.

as he walks in, he sees you on your phone sleepily watching asmr.

you’re the most cute amazing perfect person to him i swear

he silently giggles to himself and walks near you, laying beside you on the bed.

you look over to him and and smile, putting your phone down and wrapping your arms around the pretty boy.

“I missed you!!!” you say, kissing him.

he smiles as he feels the heat come to his face, kissing you back. “I missed you too”

you slide down to lay on his stomach, as he puts his long arms around you, engulfing you in his warmth.

gently picking up his arm to draw shapes on it with your fingertips, you are filled with satisfaction just from being with him.

you look up at him and back down at his arm, sliding your hand up to reach his and slowly interlocking them.

you rest both your hands on your stomach and turn your head to the side, closing your eyes.

jisung looks at you and can’t help but watch in awe at how gorgeous you are while sleeping.

“I love you so much, y/n.”

ahhhhh i’m sorry if it absolutely sucks this is my first post lmao

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Note

Reader being really shy when she goes to tom's place for the first time, too embarrassed to even sit on his bed properly lmao I do that all the time

A/N: I'm super shy too when I first meet people and are getting comfortable around them, I love this idea and thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoy, I changed it a little 💕💕

You couldn't help yourself as you pulled the sleeves of your hoody down, constantly nibbling your lower lip as your nerves started to fill you. This would be the first time in your four month relationship that you'd stopped at Tom's. Something about the idea just made you nervous.

It wasn't that you didn't trust him, you did. He'd stayed at yours loads, but you'd never really been to his. He lived with his best friends and brother and the idea of meeting them all at once made you nervous. You were incredibly shy and you couldn't really explain why, Tom knew you were and was always careful with you, never put you in situations that made you uncomfortable.

So when he'd asked if you wanted to stay at his for the night you couldn't refuse him and you were excited at first, you were excited until you were stood outside his front door.

"Come on." Tom offered a small and reassuring smile whilst holding his hand out for you. You slipped your hand into his and he opened the door.

You were instantly met with Tess, a warmth filling you, you had a huge love for his dog. You'd been on numerous walks with her and Tom and you'd made quite a bond with the Staffie.

"Hey Tess." You said as you greeted her, her excitement evident as she trailed closely behind you and Tom as he took you into the living room.

"Fucking arsehole." Was the first thing you heard one of the boys scream, he was on his game, clearly it wasn't going his way. "Hey mate." He said as he took the headset off and left his game.

"This is Y/N." Tom introduced and Harrison offered you a wide smile.

"Hey, so nice to finally meet the girl Tom doesn't shut up about." Harrison teased and you offered a small and shy smile in response.

"Hi." You said and it was small, quiet, not wanting him to think you were too loud or anything.

"Harrison." He said as he nodded, smile still warm, inviting, wanting nothing more than to put you at ease. "I promise we're all alright here, loud but alright." He laughed and you breathed out a small one in response.

"Harrison! Have you stolen my shirt again?" You heard an angry voice and heavy footsteps as they hurried down the stairs. It wasn't long before the second male joined you in the living room, stopping in the doorway as he realised he had guests.

"This is Y/N." Harrison smirked, thankful for your presence and the fact that because of it he'd probably avoided a telling off about wearing the shirt in question.

"Hi, Harry." He offered, although after a quick glance you gathered, he held some of the same features Tom did and it didn't take you long to realise who he was. "Sorry, I knew you were coming but I thought it was later on."

You gave a small smile in response and another mumbled 'hi'. Tom encouraged you to sit on the couch, although you felt awkward. You sat perched towards the edge, you didn't want anyone to think you were making yourself too comfortable. Tom didn't say anything, didn't draw attention to your shy and awkward ways, instead he encouraged you into his side, his silent way of letting you know it was okay to get comfortable and you were safe in the boys presence.

You silently cursed yourself for being so awkward, you always worried about what people thought of you and didn't want to say or do the wrong thing. The rest of the afternoon went by pretty well, the boys making light conversation and you answered politely but otherwise stayed quiet.

"Where's Tuwaine?" Tom asked when 9pm rolled around and no one had seen him.

"Oh, he's back tomorrow, he's out for the night." Harrison answered and Tom nodded.

"Well we're gonna head upstairs, night." Tom said. "You can meet T tomorrow." Tom smiled and you nodded returning a small smile.

"Night." You said as you left the room and followed Tom upstairs and into his room.

You sat on the edge of the bed after having put your bag neatly in the corner of Tom's room. You could tell he'd cleaned it that morning, the smell of febreeze still prominent and you can only imagine he'd used a full can. His bedroom window open and a light breeze making it's way into his room.

You sat awkwardly on the edge of his bed, feeling completely out of your element. You were always awkward and shy in other people's houses.

"Baby." Tom laughed slightly as he took in your awkward position. His hands grasping around your waist as he hauled you up the bed. "It's just me," he comforted and you sighed.

"I know, but this is your house." You said as Tom positioned you between his legs and placed his chin on your shoulder.

"Y/N/N, you know I just want you to feel comfortable. Relax." He said comfortingly and you took in a deep breath before releasing it.

"I just don't wanna piss you off." You admitted shyly and Tom kissed your cheek as he rubbed a hand up and down your side.

"You won't. I promise, I want you to be comfortable here. Treat it like your own place." He said, you wished you could, you were much more comfortable in your own environment. "We've been together four months, I want you here and I want you to feel comfortable coming here."

"I will, I just, you know me." You laughed slightly and Tom hummed in agreement, soothing you with some comforting words. You both got ready for bed as you nerves settled slightly, Tom doing everything he could to put you at ease. It wasn't long before Tom was in bed and you were sort of stood awkwardly looking at him.

"You getting in?" Tom asked with a smile as he held the duvet open. You made your way into his bed. Tom wasting no time in pulling you into his chest as you settled under the covers. Your nerves almost dissolved as your brain caught up with the fact that it was just you and Tom now.

"I'm sorry I'm so awkward." You laughed after a while.

"It's okay. I promise the boys are harmless, they're gonna love you when they get to know you." Tom said, a hand running through your hair.

"Wait till they find out how chatty I really am." You teased and Tom laughed.

"Yeah, remember when you finally got comfortable around me? Chewed my ear off." He teased as he poked your cheek.

"Sometimes I wish I was as confident as you." You admitted.

"S'okay, I get it, but I promise your safe with me, no judgement here." He said and your heart burst in your chest, the words on the tip of your tongue but no confidence to say them. "Can I tell you something?" Tom asked after a while of silently enjoying each others company.

"Always." You responded as you rested your chin on his chest to look at him. His demeanour suddenly changing, eyes flicking around the room but never landing on you as he cleared his throat a few times. "Hey," you laughed as his eyes snapped to yours. "You're being like me, what's got you so flustered?" You teased with a laugh and he huffed out a small one.

"I um, I'm in love with you." He admitted and your breath hitched. Your mind going into overdrive, how could this confident and out going person fall in love with someone like you? Someone who was awkward about making conversation and having hardly any confidence at all. "You don't have to say it back. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have said anything." Tom said as his hand moved to your cheek.

You sat up, looking at him.

"I love you too." You said and he breathed out a sigh of relief as he smiled. "I just, I don't know, I suppose I just don't really get what you see in me." You admitted and Tom's eyes softened as he pulled you back into his chest.

"Good job it's early because I have a lot to tell you about yourself."

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland blurb

261 notes · View notes

huenjin · 4 years

Text

phobia.

pairing — bang chan x reader

word count — 2.7k words

ratings — 18+

genre — some slight fluff and smut, includes face sitting, cunnilingus.

note — this is the most domestic relationship thing i've written on this blog so far. lmao, i watched chan's room, ep.1 while writing this,,,and at this point, i'm just doing like an unofficial countdown to national boyfriend's day, of sorts, ha! d-3 and here we are. i haven't ever been this content writing for a boy group as much as skz. *cries in alien language*

You are snuggling against Chan, your head on his broad chest as he plays with your hair and your fingers casually and playfully tapping his chest in a rhythm, only to trail downwards slowly. He turns his head slightly to kiss the top of your head.

And just maybe you were horny. There's no other explanation to the hand of yours that slowly trickles its way down to place itself over your boyfriend's crotch.

"Y/N," his voice is laced with strain and you chuckle, kissing the side of your boyfriend's chin. "Don't—"

"But—"

"I mean, unless you intend to solve it after you cause it."

"What if I don't?"

"Sneaky little rat," Chan gasps and he wraps his arms tightly around you, snuggling you closer into him and you laugh.

It is in moments like these that your heart flutters, swells and then bursts with nothing but love for this man that you call yours in this moment. With eyes that sparkle like they can bear every single star in the galaxy and with arms that could possibly hold the whole world with the love he has, he still chooses to hold you close and keep you in his arms and call you his whole world. He chooses to rewrite the stars no matter what happens, all to keep you close to him.

"Do you want me to eat you out?"

He pushes you slightly away from him so that he can look at you as he asks. There's a lot more to the eyes that plead to you though, as if he needs something more secretly.

"Randomly?"

"It's not complete random," he mumbles and you sit up, your arms unwrapping from his physique. You stare at your boyfriend, expecting him to continue on his sudden proposal. And then he drops it.

"Sit on me."

"Huh?"

You are about to sit on top of him, hovering over his crotch when he holds your thigh, mid air, and you look at him, in confusion, "Chan?"

"On my face."

Your eyes widen and you drop you leg back onto the mattress. You're holding him tighter, staring at your boyfriend in surprise and more of a what-the-fuck look.

"You're kidding, right?"

Chan sits up slightly, his arms supporting his body weight up from behind. He bites his lower lips as he looks at you, "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"But Channie—"

"Why don't you give it a try? If you still don't like it, we could stop?"

And when your eyes show a flicker of hesitance, Chan lays back down again and pulls you forward. You cup his face and kiss him, holding his lower lips between yours as you try dragging it out for as long as possible. Chan holds you as you direct the kiss and he moans into you, before pulling back and mumbling, "You'd definitely be great at it."

You pull back and shimmy out of your shorts and panties, Chan's white shirt still on you. Your boyfriend looks at you in awe, like you're the literal sunshine in person and that he was nothing short of a blessed man on earth in this moment.

With unsure, wobbly steps, you crawl over to the side of Chan's face and sit on the back of your ankles as you look at him, "What if I'm too heavy?"

"You couldn't be heavy for me, baby," Chan laughs, and it's so light and soft that it eases you; that maybe, just maybe this would be a good experience. "You're the perfect size for me. You're like my other half. We are compatible. Remember, when you even got our horoscopes matched!"

"But that's a different thing! And my mother did that." You laugh at the memory. It was a year back when you asked Chan for his entire birth or natal chart and even though he persisted and asked you why you required it, you couldn't tell him till you had it, or more like your mother had it. She had been the mastermind behind the entire scheme. Chan learns of it later that day though — when your mother calls him when she couldn't reach through you.

And your mother being the ever jovial person she is, tells your boyfriend of how good the two of your marriage compatibility was. Chan had the best night of his life that day, laughing to you about it and how he'd marry you even if the compatibility had turned out to be crap.

Chan shakes his head and pulls at your thigh, "It's not now. You're my everything. My sun, my moon and my stars."

"You're sugarcoating your words to get me to sit on your face, aren't you?" You laugh, squinting your eyes in response at how adorable and desperate Chan looked at that minute.

Your boyfriend dramatically gasps, hand clutching his chest, hovering right over his heart as he closes his eyes and shakes his head, "How could you doubt my love, my darling," before bursting out into a fit of laughter and confessing, "Was it that obvious?"

"You're a drama queen." You hit his chest and he kisses your nose. "If it gets too overbearing, you'll tell me, right?"

"One hundred percent," he smiles and with that confidence, you lift your leg over his face and sit in such a way that your vulva was right in front of Chan's face, currently glistening from all the anticipation.

"God, you're beautiful," Chan mumbles to himself as he lifts his arms up slightly to grab your thighs, pulling it slightly closer to his face, leaving you like this — your knees dig into the pillow by the side of your boyfriend's face, your core hovering over his face so close that his breath on the skin by the side edges you, running a tingle down your spine.

"Come on, Y/N," he chuckles against your thigh, kissing it and laying out small kisses upwards. "You should know by now that you are not going to break me. Trust me." You look down at your boyfriend and you can't help but agree that it's the first time you're looking at Chan like this and he's still so beautiful.

"I know," you sigh, force downwards to your knee as you lower yourself slightly. Chan is still biting and kissing at your thighs, causing you to cream yourself slightly, embarassing you because he can clearly see it now. You bite down on your lips softly, and after much thought decide to reach out a hand to tangle into his hair.

Seemingly, this is all the encouragement and push your boyfriend needed because now Chan's hands lift themselves, hands on your hip before he pulls you down to come closer on to his face, knees digging into the pillow so much that Chan's face lifts up.

And then Chan's tongue is pressed flat against you. He slowly drags it against your slit, like a kitten with its soft licks and then proceeds to press a kiss to your clit when he gets to the top. You're breaking. You had such a strong conviction that you'd dislike this that you can't help but want to move your hip, to want more of his tongue — to want more of the wet muscle against your now sopping core.

Your legs relax just a bit and you willing push his face against his. Chan's face is still hurried into your core, head focussing on nothing but your pleasure. Chan licks another stripe before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking on it, loud noice of suckle resonating and causing you to move your hips slightly, just to test if it was alright. Turns out Chan loves it because he presses his head further back, hand moving downwards only to place them against your thighs to spread them apart slightly and to see how wet you are all because of him. You look down only to find Chan's eyes shut, lips chasing after your wet ones, tongue protruding out and small whines leaving him that does nothing but harness and comfort your dominant side.

You realise that Chan was still taking it slow, making sure you were comfortable with this and that you were enjoying every single bit of it. The more you let yourself relax and settled onto his face, the more his attention grew. And when Chan knew you were comfortable enough, he grips your hips, hands quickly snaking behind and pulls you further — unimaginably — down. His jaw opens wide and he draws his tongue up and down, lapping at your slit like it's an eternal drink. His warm muscle circles around your clit, causing you to shiver in his hold, chills send up your spine.

Your eyes close, the pleasure unimaginably good as you stretch your left hand to hold the bed post and the other tangles itself amongst Chan's hair roots, pulling it slightly everytime you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. Chan circles around your dripping hole, tongue teasingly poking and pressing in before it is gone again. Your hip gyrate against his face almost like it has a mind of its own. His nose nudges occasionally against your core and your mound that has you biting the insides of your mouth to suppress a large moan.

Chan keeps a rhythm as his tongue laps against your sopping lips, paying equal attention to every part that it send your receptors into snap, endorphins releasing slowly in the build up. His tongue takes in every bit of your wetness that you are left gasping, hips moving against his tongue and eyes squeezing, as your mouth left nothing but his name like a mantra.

Your thighs shake in the pleasure, torn between collapsing and embracing the feeling and you know, for sure, that had it not been for Chan's iron grip on your thighs. Not that Chan seemed too interested in being given the space for him to breathe with how eager he is to bring your hips closer to his face, barely giving him space to breathe.

Slowly and almost what seemed too short, it is all too much for you, the constant sucking and licking and feeling of his warmth against your dripping core. Chan's tongue finally slips into your core and before you really could grasp understanding of what exactly you were doing, you are here, grinding on his face, rocking between his nose pressed against your clit and his tongue buried as far as possible inside you.

Chan moans in ecstacy, his tongue feeling the pressure from your muscles tightening. The slight vibration is enough to slowly spiral you and draw out another loud moan from your dry throat and out through your coral lips. One of his hands grips your thigh, digging in his fingers and the other splays out flat on your back.

It's like all your misconception about this is thrown out through the window. You groan out loud, knuckles turning white as you grip on the bed post tightly as he worked against your slit, letting your hips move as they wished now, his grip on your hips a lot lighter. Your other hand in his hair switches between pulling and petting. You try to focus on the wall in front of you but your vision is all blurry in the slowly becoming euphoria. You can't help but let out small praises in between breaths, "You're a good, good boy," and "Fuck, look at how needy you are," and in all honesty, even you are surprised by the words that leave you. Though, all that does is get Chan more enthusiastic with each one, his tongue moving even more furiously against you.

Before you know it, the knot that built up seems to slowly tense up, close enough to snap and you know you are on the edge. You try desperately to form words though all you can roll from your tongue are desperate whines and moans and chants for Chan to fuck you up more. You pull on his hair, pulling him closer while grinding against him harder.

And then it snaps as you come, like a rope that is knotted so perfectly, pulled apart till you see the fibres so clearing straining away and breaking. You see the white as you close your eyes, the oxytocin rushing through and you are grinding on Chan's face further to ride it all out, your tongue rolling out the words, "Chan, oh my fuck!" over and over again. Your whole body shakes and your legs instinctively try to close though it just ends up pressed against Chan's face, not that he minded it one bit. Chan licks you out soft and slowly, helping you through your orgasm patiently and you want to cry at how blessed you truly are.

Chan keeps up the gentle attention until you finally decide to push his head back, hand off his hair and bedpost, lifting yourself slowly off his face. Or at least you tried and that should count. Your legs that desperately chooses not to cooperate, feeling sore and muscles strained. Chan laughs at you as you try to lift yourself off and he helps you, hand warm against your wet thighs as he lifts them over his face and to his side. You drop down, sliding against the mattress downwards and Chan coos, "Look at my baby."

“Fuck,” is all you can say, heart racing against your chest after one of the better orgasms ever and you close your eyes.

Chan pulls you closer into him, stroking your cheek and kissing your forehead, lips lingering for more than a second. You finally open your eyes, only to lock gazes with your boyfriend and you smile, albeit a tired yet loving smile. Chan press his lips against your nose and tells you, "I'm one lucky man."

"Yes," you chortle, hugging your boyfriend tighter. "Yes, you are."

You take in the sight of Chan in all his glory. His jaw is slick, light hitting off them and making them glisten, cheeks flushed pink and his lips are pulled into a soft smile at you. His eyes don't leave yours for even a minute and they are filled with nothing but soft love coloured in pastel pink in your head. It makes your heart flutter against your ribs.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"More than I should," you sigh contently. You let yourself be swallowed by the beautiful sight before for just a moment longer, to remember every single bit of this in your head. “Now stop looking so sappy and proud.”

If anything, your comment only makes Chan's smile grow wider. Chan still holds you in his arms but he turns his head to look up at the ceiling, smiling so brightly like a dork. “I know I enjoyed it.”

And then, as if he knew you had your eyes trained on his, he sticks his tongue out, slowly dragging it against your wetness left as residues by his mouth. He licks it all up and then finishes it out by licking his lips and you hate that you find yourself clenching your thighs against each other. Why were you such a putty in his hands and to everything he does? Stupid boyfriend that knows he too hot for any good.

“Think I’ll get to do it again sometime?”

You laugh, kissing his cheek. “Maybe,” you say, smiling to yourself. "Who knows? Guess you'll have to wait and see how this pans out now, right?"

Chan looks at you, turning himself to snuggle into your warmth, wanting to be the smaller spoon suddenly. His head hurried against your chest, nose grazing the top of your breast, he closes his eyes, taking in your natural scent. Your hand finds itself on top of his head as you slowly pet his hair, pausing only when you hear him mumble against your skin.

"I've never minded waiting for you."

2K notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Request: Yes or No

Ppl seemed to like the Imagine and nobody really said anything about it being a fic but I like that (Y/N) sooo. For anyone confused about the root things, (Y/N) has root bracelets on each wrist that he can control. He can't make roots come out of his hands or anything. (Y/N) isn't gender neutral ik I use second person for a gender neutral reader but I'm starting to rlly like second person view lmao. If people like this enough, I might keep this fic going to Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame.

You placed your hands on the sides of the pot, watching the dead flower slowly regain its color. You could hear the faint sound of chatting and music from the party Tony was holding. Parties were never your thing. Parties meant crowds of nosy people with nothing else better to do. You heard your bedroom door open, turning around and looking at Clint.

"Hey, why don't you come downstairs? The party's ending." Clint offered a small smile, holding his side. You looked back at the flower, standing and gently placing it back with the other flowers on your desk. You approached Clint, feeling him gently wrap an arm around your shoulder.

"How's Laura?" You asked softly. Clint grinned, licking his lips as he glanced at you. You liked Clint. He was like the father or older brother you never had.

"She misses you. She mentioned wanting you to move in once training was complete." Clint revealed, looking at you. You blinked, brows raising as you stared at his face, wondering if he was joking.

"Think it over." Clint gave your shoulder a small squeeze as you joined the others, nodding to Maria. She gave a nod in return, a small tight smile on her face. You didn't blame them for not trusting you. You had attempted to kill them a few times out of fear. You took a seat on the couch, watching the Avengers laugh and chat. You stayed silent, fingers gently tracing the root bracelets.

"You thought of those yourself?" Maria asked softly, tilting her head. You looked at her, nodding.

"Having them on me makes me feel safer." You replied quietly, looking back at the roots. You continued to trace them, watching them shift slightly at your touch. Dr. Cho leaned over, humming in fascination.

"It's incredible how responsive they are to you." She whispered softly, meeting your gaze briefly for permission. You nodded, watching her reach out and touch them.

"How much can you feel? Or is it just a control thing?" She asked.

"Uhm, I know when they're dying or are in need of something but they don't feel pain so.. Hurting them doesn't hurt me." You explained. Dr. Cho nodded in understanding, leaning back.

"I'd love to ask you more questions later, if you don't mind." She gave a kind smile. You looked up upon hearing grunts, watching Clint attempt to pick up Mjollnir while Thor watched on in amusement. He gave up, chuckling. Tony went next, the smug look on his face disappearing when he couldn't lift it. You chuckled softly, watching James try to help Tony but the hammer didn't even budge.

"(Y/N), why don't you give it a try?" Clint asked after Bruce went. You licked your lips, glancing at the Avengers when their gazes went to you.

"Uhm-"

"Go on, give it a try." Thor encouraged with a a big smile. You stood up, walking up to the table where the hammer sat. You grabbed the handle, roots slithering down your hands and wrapping around the hammer. You pulled, suprised to find it was definitely harder than it looked.

"Don't pull a muscle, kid." Clint called, chuckling as you huffed, letting go of it and retracting the roots. You took a seat beside Clint, gently leaning against him as Steve went next. He went at it but wasn't able to lift it.

"It's rigged." Tony called with a shrug as Clint stood, a chuckle leaving him.

"You bet your ass."

"Steve, he said a bad language word." Maria pointed out in playful seriousness. You chuckled softly. Clint had told you all about Steve and the bad language joke. You stood up, about to call it a day before a ringing noise stopped you in your tracks. You looked up, noticing a half built robot limping into the room, mumbling stuff.

"Clint?" You called out, frowning. Clint looked at you before turning around, standing up as everyone's attention shifted to the robot. Clint slowly backed up until you were within arms reach. He knew you could protect yourself but he cared about you too much to let you get hurt.

"How could you be worthy? You're all killers." The robot said, motioning at them with its broken arm.

"Stark?" Steve's gaze stayed locked on the robot. The robot continued to speak, stumbling about. He replayed a clip of Stark saying something. Maria took out her gun, slowly standing up. Clint immediately grabbed you when the robots bursted into the room, pulling you along and hiding.

"Stay here." Clint whispered, standing up. You frowned, watching him go. Your looked over the room, noticing Dr. Cho attempting to hide behind the piano. You stood, quickly going over to her as a robot rose up. You raised your hand, making a root shoot out at it and wrap around its neck, throwing the robot to the side and watching it break.

"Thank you." Dr. Cho whispered as things began to calm down. You helped her stand, making eye contact with Clint as Thor threw his hammer at 'Ultron', breaking him into pieces.

"(Y/N), go to your room." Clint breathed out.

"No, he deserves to know what happened here." Steve said, giving you a nod.

~~~~~~~~~

You licked your lips, glancing at Clint when he silently drew an arrow. You unclenched your fists, watching the root bracelets around your wrists grow and wrap around your fingers. You were surprised you had even been asked to tag along considering you were still new and young. You watched the Maximoff twins, stare at Tony with pure hatred. Not long ago, you were also an enemy of the Avengers. Clint had taken you under his wing, practically adopting you after everything. You assumed you were only allowed to tag along because of your powers. You had gained better control of them over time.

"Stay alert and stay close." Clint told you, shooting the arrow once the fight began. You watched the robots, nodding. You leaned forward, slightly over the railing, fingers moving. The roots wrapped around them shot out, wrapping around one of the robots that had lunged for Steve. You moved your arms back and apart, watching the robot be ripped apart. Steve looked up towards you, giving a greatful nod. Clint grinned, drawing another arrow. You noticed a flash of blue and white running below, keeping an eye on it. Another root shot out, successfully making the male Maximoff trip and stumble. You retracted the root, shifting your attention onto the men with guns.

"What a shitshow." You muttered, sighing softly. Clint glanced at you in amusement.

"Language." He called playfully, chuckling when he heard Steve groan. You let a small smile slip, roots wrapping around the necks of two of the gunmen. You slowly clenched your fists, making the roots strangle them. You heard Thor mention something about the Maximoff girl trying to mind control him.

"Drop 'em." Clint said, giving you a pointed look. "Only make them pass out, don't kill them."

"Fine." You huffed, dropping the men with a small scowl. Clint shot an arrow that knocked out a whole floor, giving a satisfied hum. You heard soft footsteps, spinning around and grabbing the girl Maximoff by the throat, grip tightening with each passing second. Her eyes were wide, caught off guard. Fear flashed in them briefly. Clint quickly planted an electrical arrow on her forehead. You removed your hands, glancing at Clint.

"You seriously need some freshing up on those people skills." Clint said, shaking his head. You scoffed, head tilting slightly.

"She's the enemy!"

"No killing-" You were suddenly shoved forward, bumping into Clint and crashing into what seemed like a control room. You grunted as pain struck up your back, turning your head and watching Pietro pick up his sister bridal style. You shot out your hand but he dodged the roots, using his superspeed to run off.

"Yeah, you better run." You heard Clint breath out. You turned towards him, roots retracting completely.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, feeling glass digging into your hands as you slowly stood up, grunting softly. There was definitely gonna be a big bruise on your back when you checked later. You helped Clint stand, watching him attempt to contact the others. You leaned over the railing, seeing Steve laying on some stairs. You raised your hand, having the roots grab onto something sturdy before jumping over the railing and heading down to the floor he was at. You approached him, crouching down, cupping his face and seeing his red eyes and dazed look.

"The girl got to Steve." You said, sighing softly.

"Natasha as well." Clint replied. "Seems like the whole team is out of commission."

"Wonder what they're seeing." You muttered, standing and having the roots gently wrap around Steve's arms and waist. They were thin so dragging him along was the only choice.

"Having fun on your first mission yet?"

"Oh, fuck off, Clint." You called with a huff, trying to drag America's sweetheart across a ship, avoiding bodies and trying to keep his head from bumping into stuff.

"Sorry, buddy." You winced, watching Steve's head bump against some steps. Once outside, you were able to drag him along with more ease, getting him inside the step as Clint went to get Thor. Natasha had slowly come out of her daze, groaning softly and holding her head. You looked at him, gently slapping him. Steve gasped, panting softly as his blue eyes met your (E/C) ones.

"Welcome back." You muttered, standing up.

"What happened?" Natasha asked, looking at you with furrowed brows. She looked around the ship, standing.

"Where's Banner?" She asked with a frown. You rubbed the back of your neck, stepping aside so Steve could get up.

"He.. He and Stark are in the city. He hulked out." You told her, concern appearing on her features. Natasha cursed under her breath, though her mind seemed to be somewhere else. You turned towards the entrance, seeing Tony with Bruce. Clint returned with Thor, silence filling the air as Clint got the aircraft in the air. Clint motioned for you to get closer, a smile appearing on his face.

"You did amazing today." The praise made you smile, nodding as you glanced down at the ground. It had been your first real fight.

"Does that mean-"

"Not yet, we still need to work on some things. Soon enough, you'll be officially part of the team." Clint assured. You nodded, taking a seat nearby and sighing. Clint steered the ship to his home, landing it. The Avengers seemed confused at the unknown location but you happily got out of the aircraft. Clint chuckled, watching you head up to the house and enter.

"Honey? We've got company!" Clint called. Laura appeared from one of the rooms, smile widening.

"Hey, sweetie." Laura cooed, arms extending and wrapping around you. Both of you chuckled when the baby kicked.

"Someone's happy to see you too." Laura smiled, placing a hand on her belly before greeting Clint with a kiss.

"Gentlemen, this is Laura." Clint introduced her to the team. You enjoyed Laura's company. Her warmness was welcoming and she had been more than happy to take you in. Footsteps echoed lightly, preparing Clint to greet his kids. You smiled, watching them greet him. Natasha had been the only other one who knew about Clint's family. Lila gasped softly upon seeing you, quickly running towards you. You bent down, picking her up and chuckling.

"Miss me?" You asked, giving her a gentle hug. Laura looked over, smiling softly.

"Of course she missed they missed their cool big brother." Laura said, giggling softly when Lila noticed Natasha and happily went over to hug her. Cooper took Lila's spot, giving you a big grin. Thor suddenly left the house, Steve following.

"What have you been up to?" You asked, watching Coppers eyes light up. He grabbed your hand, pulling you along to his room. Laura and Clint hadn't officially adopted you but they were more than happy to do it. Once you were done with training, they were gonna get the papers and make you a Barton.

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junghelioseok · 4 years

Text

clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #kpop scenarios #brother's best friend!au #brother's best friend au #lia writes

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

MY DEAR WIFE. I DESIRE A SEQUEL TO THE JIMMY EMPIRE FIC. I MADE THIS TUMBLR ACCOUNT TO MAKE MY DEMANDS. NOW GO BE FREE. WRITE YOU FANTASTIC FANFIC WRITER YOU. -BEST SPOUSE, PURP <3

this was a popular request LMAO :D

here’s the first part

…

The ringing of her communicator wakes Lizzie up late in the night. Blinking herself awake, she quickly answers it, speaking quietly so as to not awaken her sleeping fiance next to her. “Hello?”

“Lizzie, it’s Pixl,” comes the familiar British voice. “I’m so sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” Lizzie says. “Is something wrong?”

“Something’s happened with Jimmy.”

Lizzie’s heart skips a beat. “Is he okay?”

“I’ll explain everything later but I could really use your help right now. Are you able to come to the Cod Empire?”

Momentarily forgetting that Pixl can’t see her, Lizzie nods. “Of course, I’ll come over right away.”

“Thanks so much, Lizzie,” says Pixl gratefully. “See you soon.”

“See you.”

Lizzie puts down her communicator and gets out of bed. Just as she’s finished changing, her fiance stirs in his bed and murmurs, “What’s going on? Who was that?”

“Pixl,” replies Lizzie softly, secretly glad he’s awake; she wouldn’t have woken him first. “Something’s happened to Jimmy, and Pixl needs me. You okay to come over to the Cod Empire with me?”

Joel sits up in his bed, immediately more awake. “Of course, of course. Let me get dressed.”

The two fly straight over to the Cod Empire and land outside Jimmy’s house. Pixl answers the door on the first knock. “Queen Lizzie, thank you for coming,” he says gratefully. “And King Joel.”

He leads them inside. Lizzie and Joel both gasp simultaneously as they spot Jimmy lying on the bed.

Joel freezes but Lizzie dashes to his side and grasps his hand, staring down in horror at the bruises covering Jimmy’s face. “Oh my goodness! What happened to him?! Is he okay?!”

Pixl joins her on Jimmy’s other side. “He’s recovering,” he responds grimly. “You know the demon Xornoth that’s shown their face around the server lately?”

“Heard of them.”

“fWhip and Sausage seem to be around the epicentre of the whole thing. They captured Jimmy, kept him in a cell for a whole day, beat him several times, then tried to sacrifice him to Xornoth. Scott and I managed to save him but he almost died from his injuries before Scott was able to heal him somewhat with magic.”

Lizzie gazes down at Jimmy with a worried expression, gently touching his face. He stirs slightly under her touch.

After a moment, she speaks again, her tone low and dangerous. “fWhip and Sausage, you said?”

Pixl nods. “Yeah. Scott and I chased them off but I’m a little worried about them returning to finish the job. That’s why I asked you over; I could do with some help protecting him. If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.” Lizzie retracts her hand and presses her fist into her palm. “Hell, if either of them show their faces around here, I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands.”

Now Joel moves closer to the bed, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Poor Jimmy… I can’t imagine how terrified he must’ve been.”

As Pixl opens his mouth to respond, another knock at the door sounds. The three frown at each other, trying to work out who could possibly be at the door.

After a moment, Pixl heads back over to the door and answers it. His gaze darkens when he sees who’s standing there. “You’re not welcome here.”

Lizzie stiffens as she hears MythicalSausage’s voice: “I just wanted to ask how Jimmy is. And to… apologise.”

“Apologise?!” Lizzie bursts out.

Joel draws Pixl out of the way as Lizzie storms to the door and shoves Sausage backwards. “You TORTURED my friend and you think you can just walk over here and APOLOGISE?!”

Sausage scrambles back as a furious Lizzie bears down on him. “I had nothing to do with hurting him! That was all fWhip!”

“YOU THINK THAT MAKES IT BETTER?!” Lizzie bellows.

She flings out her arms and manipulates the ocean water into grabbing hold of Sausage and bringing him closer to her. “ACK!” Sausage chokes, struggling uselessly. “LIZZIE!”

“I’m going to kill you, Sausage,” growls Lizzie. “Would you rather be flung high into the air and fall to your death or drowned in salty ocean water?”

“N-Neither!”

A dark smile appears on Lizzie’s face. “Too bad. I’ve decided I’m gonna drown you.”

She lifts the water higher. His scream is abruptly cut off as the water envelopes his head, stopping him from breathing. She watches with satisfaction as his air slowly runs out.

But then Pixl’s voice comes from behind her: “Lizzie, he’s calling for you. He needs you.”

Lizzie pauses, weighing up her options. Eventually, she releases Sausage onto the dock, taking grim pleasure in the way he splutters and coughs up water. “You’re lucky this time, Sausage,” she says. She kneels down beside him and pushes her face close to Sausage’s with a menacing glare. “But if you ever, and I mean EVER, come near Jimmy again, you’re gonna wish you were never born. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Y-Yes!” gasps Sausage.

Lizzie steps back and lets Sausage flee, before rushing back inside and back to Jimmy’s side. Her ally is stirring, his eyelids fluttering. “L-Lizz...ie…”

“I’m here,” whispers Lizzie softly, holding his hand against her cheek to reassure him of her presence. “I’m here, Jimmy. Are you okay?”

Jimmy coughs weakly. “M-My wrists hurt.”

Frowning, Lizzie pushes down Jimmy’s sleeve, revealing the thick red marks. “Wh-What is this?!” she gasps. “Pixl?”

“It’s…” Pixl hesitates, knowing what his next words will likely cause. “They’re burn marks. He had his hands tied behind his back for most of the day in that cell.”

Joel glances sharply at his fiancee. “Uh oh.”

Thunder sounds overhead as dark clouds rapidly slide across the sky. Lizzie’s expression remains steady, but lightning flashes in her eyes. “I’ll be right back, Jimmy,” she says, her voice as steady as her expression. But it’s just an act for Jimmy’s benefit and both Pixl and Joel know it.

Neither Pixl nor Joel stop her as she storms out of the hut and takes off flying towards the Grimlands. She lands atop the outer wall, rain starting to fall from the sky.

“FWHIP!” she bellows, her voice rolling through the clouds and echoing across the land.

Seconds later, the count himself appears atop his tower, within audible distance despite the increasingly loud thunder overhead. “Queen Lizzie!” He spreads his arms wide. “How may I help you?”

A bolt of lightning strikes the very top of fWhip’s tower.

“Aha, what have I done to invoke the wrath of the Ocean Queen?” fWhip laughs.

Instead of replying verbally, Lizzie lifts her arms and summons a giant wave of water from the river, sending it crashing down like a tsunami over the Grimlands.

“NO!” fWhip yells. “My villagers! You’re gonna drown my villagers!”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU TORTURED JIMMY AND TRIED TO MURDER HIM!” roars Lizzie.

fWhip stares at her for a moment as he finally remembers that Lizzie is one of Jimmy’s closest allies. “...oh…”

Shaking himself into action, fWhip dives down into his flooded village. Lizzie watches him, taking grim satisfaction in watching him flounder around in desperation. She doesn’t even realise how close he is to death until-

fWhip drowned

Lizzie quickly dissipates the flood and jumps down to look for fWhip’s items. As she’s starting to pick them up, fWhip reappears, so she retreats back to a safe distance.

“I’ll get my revenge for this, Ocean Queen,” growls fWhip. “I will not take the attempted murder of my villagers lying down.”

“I don’t give a crap,” Lizzie snaps back. “Don’t you dare think about going near Jimmy ever again, because if you do, I can promise you I will wipe your goddamn empire off the face of the world and I will NOT regret doing it.”

fWhip narrows his eyes. “You’re messing with the wrong empire. I too have the power to wipe an empire out of existence.”

“I live in the ocean. The bulk of my empire is underwater now. Your TNT will make a scratch at most.”

fWhip’s mouth opens, then closes again. After a moment, he looks away. “Fine.”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re backing down that easily?”

“I’m being smart. You’ve no idea what’s coming, Lizzie. I do. I need to prepare. I can’t afford to be dragged into another war right now.”

As fWhip turns, he finds Lizzie extremely close to him. She grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him close so that their faces are inches apart. “Then don’t start one,” she snarls. “Stay away from my allies.”

She shoves fWhip away and takes off again, flying back to the swamp. Part of her feels bad at the attack on fWhip’s innocent villagers but she pushes it aside. fWhip tortured Jimmy and was perfectly willing to slaughter him when he was tied up and defenceless.

Lizzie has no sympathy or mercy for a person like that.

When she gets back, Joel meets her at the door. “Lizzie, you’re back!” he gasps. “I saw the death message in chat.”

“Yes. fWhip needed to be told that I won’t tolerate him hurting my Jimmy.” Her gaze flickers from Joel to Pixl and back again. “Or any of you.”

Joel gazes at her with almost visible hearts in his eyes. “I love you so much, Lizzie.”

Lizzie can’t help a chuckle. “I love you too.”

“Guys, guys, come quick!” Pixl calls suddenly. “Guys!”

The two quickly rush to Jimmy’s beside but stop dead simultaneously when they see what Pixl is so panicked about.

A mark has appeared on Jimmy’s neck. It looks like some kind of rune, but what’s worrying about it is the fact that it’s glowing red.

“What is this?” Lizzie gasps. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know! It just appeared!”

After a few seconds, the glowing dies down, leaving only the clear black mark.

“This has got to be something to do with the demon,” says Pixl shakily. “I don’t know what or how or why, but somehow, fWhip and Sausage’s attempted sacrifice of Jimmy must’ve caused this.”

“But what can we do about it?” Joel asks. “What can we do to help?”

Pixl has no answer to this.

Nobody does.

#empires smp #pixlriffs #ldshadowlady #solidaritygaming #smallishbeans #fwhip #mythicalsausage #vaunna’s requests

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chispas-and-broken-bindings · 3 years

Note

Lmao 🤣 I know to which post you are replying about them being besties . That scene always gave me more ominous vibes than actually something that would ignite friendship . Also the title of " Usurper's Dog " isn't something @ry@ is going to take lightly .

Ha! I actually didn't have any particular post in mind. The Dany/Arya friendship is just something that I see float around the fandom from time to time and it drives me absolutely bonkers (not fanon. feel free to explore all your platonic dreams with these two in fanon. Go wild. You do you.)

If we are talking canon though, I can't think of a single character that has more anti-Targ foreshadowing in their chapters than Arya (even Jon comes in second place). I actually started pasting bits of Arya's chapters into a word document awhile ago, because I couldn't believe how much GRRM uses her POV to detail the horrors of fire and burning...it's almost comical how heavy-handed he is with it.

And yet...

After I saw this ask in my inbox, I looked at the Arya Stark tag and immediately found a post about Dany and Arya being best friends.

So.

Here we are:

A Storm of Swords - Arya I

Later they passed through a burned village, threading their way carefully between the shells of blackened hovels and past the bones of a dozen dead men hanging from a row of apple trees. When Hot Pie saw them he began to pray, a thin whispered plea for the Mother's mercy, repeated over and over. Arya looked up at the fleshless dead in their wet rotting clothes and said her own prayer. Ser Gregor, it went, Dunsen, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling. The Tickler and the Hound. Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei. She ended it with valar morghulis, touched Jaqen's coin where it nestled under her belt, and then reached up and plucked an apple from among the dead men as she rode beneath them. It was mushy and overripe, but she ate it worms and all.

That was the day without a dawn. Slowly the sky lightened around them, but they never saw the sun. Black turned to grey, and colors crept timidly back into the world. The soldier pines were dressed in somber greens, the broadleafs in russets and faded golds already beginning to brown.

Hot Pie opened his mouth and closed it. He did not fall off his horse. The rain began again a short time later. They still had not seen so much as a glimpse of the sun. It was growing colder, and pale white mists were threading between the pines and blowing across the bare burned fields.

A Storm of Swords - Arya III

That night they sheltered in a burned, abandoned village.

A Storm of Swords - Arya IV

The next night they found shelter beneath the scorched shell of a sept, in a burned village called Sallydance. Only shards remained of its windows of leaded glass, and the aged septon who greeted them said the looters had even made off with the Mother's costly robes, the Crone's gilded lantern, and the silver crown the Father had worn. "They hacked the Maiden's breasts off too, though those were only wood," he told them. "And the eyes, the eyes were jet and lapis and mother-of-pearl, they pried them out with their knives. May the Mother have mercy on them all."

A Storm of Swords Arya VI

"Please," Sandor Clegane rasped, cradling his arm. "I'm burned. Help me. Someone. Help me." He was crying. "Please."

Arya looked at him in astonishment. He's crying like a little baby, she thought.

Clegane tried to stand, but as he moved a piece of burned flesh sloughed right off his arm, and his knees went out from under him. Tom caught him by his good arm and held him up.

His arm, Arya thought, and his face. But he was the Hound. He deserved to burn in a fiery hell. The knife felt heavy in her hand. She gripped it tighter. "You killed Mycah," she said once more, daring him to deny it. "Tell them. You did. You did."

"I did." His whole face twisted. "I rode him down and cut him in half, and laughed. I watched them beat your sister bloody too, watched them cut your father's head off."

Lem grabbed her wrist and twisted, wrenching the dagger away. She kicked at him, but he would not give it back. "You go to hell, Hound," she screamed at Sandor Clegane in helpless empty-handed rage. "You just go to hell!"

(Okay, so she's not exactly sympathetic to the Hound's plight here, but still...another reference to burning, and a pretty graphic one at that)

A Storm of Swords - Arya VII

Jack-Be-Lucky, Harwin, and Merrit o' Moontown braved the burning septry to search for captives. They emerged from the smoke and flames a few moments later with eight brown brothers, one so weak that Merrit had to carry him across a shoulder.

The septry soon collapsed in a roar of smoke and flame, its walls no longer able to support the weight of its heavy slate roof. The eight brown brothers watched with resignation. They were all that remained, explained the eldest, who wore a small iron hammer on a thong about his neck to signify his devotion to the Smith. "Before the war we were four-and-forty, and this was a prosperous place. We had a dozen milk cows and a bull, a hundred beehives, a vineyard and an apple arbor. But when the lions came through they took all our wine and milk and honey, slaughtered the cows, and put our vineyard to the torch.

A Storm of Swords - Arya XI

"Dead," he shouted back at her. "Do you think they'd slaughter his men and leave him alive?" He turned his head back toward the camp. "Look. Look, damn you."

The camp had become a battlefield. No, a butcher's den. The flames from the feasting tents reached halfway up the sky. Some of the barracks tents were burning too, and half a hundred silk pavilions. Everywhere swords were singing. And now the rains weep o'er his hall, with not a soul to hear. She saw two knights ride down a running man. A wooden barrel came crashing onto one of the burning tents and burst apart, and the flames leapt twice as high. A catapult, she knew. The castle was flinging oil or pitch or something.

"Come with me." Sandor Clegane reached down a hand. "We have to get away from here, and now." Stranger tossed his head impatiently, his nostrils flaring at the scent of blood. The song was done. There was only one solitary drum, its slow monotonous beats echoing across the river like the pounding of some monstrous heart. The black sky wept, the river grumbled, men cursed and died. Arya had mud in her teeth and her face was wet. Rain. It's only rain. That's all it is. "We're here," she shouted. Her voice sounded thin and scared, a little girl's voice. "Robb's just in the castle, and my mother. The gate's even open." There were no more Freys riding out. I came so far. "We have to go get my mother."

(heart: broken)

Look, there is a lot to say about fire and about rain in Arya's chapters, particularly in A Storm of Swords. I don't have the energy for it, so I'm just dumping quotes. Draw your own conclusions.

This collection is by no means exhaustive, and I'm sure there is someone more dedicated than I am, who has written something about this symbolism. (If anyone has it, send me a link).

All I'm saying is that GRRM isn't throwing all this devastation by fire and blood into Arya's chapters as positive foreshadowing for how she'll feel when a certain conqueror cross the Narrow Sea with her dragons.

#Arya Stark #dark!dany #my asks #dark dany #dark daenerys

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aizawaorkuroo · 3 years

Text

rain on me

Ship: Kitsune!Atsumu x f!reader

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: As a sunshine girl, you’ve been blessed by a fox spirit. A spirit that you’re supposed to meet for the first time tonight.

Warnings: Creampie, Outdoor Sex, Biting, Breeding, Dumbification, Panty Sniffing, Interspecies sex lmao

AN: the is based off of the movie Weathering With You! Not gender neutral because reader is referred to as sunshine girl at times! Part 2 of my Valentines day special!

________________________

A fat drop of water hits your cheek, rolling down your skin as you groan. Your lips twist into a frown, eyes narrowed at the rapidly darkening sky. Based on the weather report, it really was supposed to still be sunny…

Yachi squeals jolt you back into reality, her little fist, tugging at your sleeve, while Tanaka throws his head back to glare at the sky.

“Fix it please!” he moans, eyeing the sky like he’s thinking about fighting it. You sigh, shoulders slumping before shutting your eyes in concentration.

A delicate prayer, one you’ve prayed a thousand times before, enters your mind. Head bowed, you offer up the desires of your friends to the sky, hopes for a balmy breeze and warm sun. And as quickly as it came, the rain began to slow, clouds dispersing in the breeze.

Tanaka gives a holler, fist pumping in the air, while Yachi lets go of your sleeve, letting out a sigh.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she chirps, sending you a small smile. Looping her arm with yours she rests her head on your shoulder, giggling at Tanaka as he swings his arms around, lost in the story he was telling.

You smile softly at your friends, briefly eyeing the sky, and offering a small thanks. There are some days where a blue sky can change everything, it can lift spirits, bring joy, and you certainly weren’t gonna let it rain tonight, not during the festival everyone’s so excited for.

“Y/N!” Tanaka’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and he waggles his eyebrows. “I asked if you’re meeting your fox tonight.” You roll your eyes as Yachi makes a noise of excitement.

“I mean that’s the plan? I’ve never meant him in person though,” you sigh, face feeling warm. A large arm loops around your shoulder, forcing both you and Yachi closer to him.

“Yea, I’m sure you get up to a lot in those dreams.” Tanaka barks out a laugh, and you shove him away.

“It’s not like that! I’ve told you. He’s always a fox.” Yachi pets your arm, nodding in an understanding manner.

“Of course, Y/N. Of course.” You fume, pulling your arm away from her and crossing your arms.

“I’m not lying. Why would I lie about this?” She giggles, while Tanaka shakes his head.

“Will he be at the festival?” Your lips purse and you nod, eyes cast down.

“Yea, but I don’t know when or where,” you sigh. Tanaka strokes his chin in thought.

“Well, you’ll definitely know him when you see him. He marked you after all right?” Tanaka sounds so confident, so sure, and Yachi nods in agreement.

“He made you a sunshine girl and you talk with him all the time.”

Their confidence fills you with an electric excitement. You were finally going to meet your fox. You were going to meet Atsumu.

Except he doesn’t show up.

Minutes slowly pile onto one another, adding up to hours. The sun dips down, and you’re left in the glow from the stalls, trying to ignore the way your stomach sinks and the looks your friends send you when they think you can’t see.

It’s embarrassing, mortifying, even. You had been so excited, chattering away about Atsumu, only for him to stand you up. And Tanaka and Yachi try to make you feel better, dragging you around to different stalls, paying for all sorts of snacks and treats. But after the 4th pity dessert, you excuse yourself, saying you need to take a walk.

The farther you walk away from the festival, the quieter it gets, the silence and cool air helping you clear your mind.

So what? You had been stood up. That happens all the time to people. But it's not every day the spirit who had blessed you breaks his promise. Your feet slow to a stop, and you bite your lip, trying to hold back the stinging tears that threaten to fall.

Your head tilts back, eyes taking in the cloudless sky. Would he have told you the same jokes he had in your dreams? Would he have bought you food? Would he even have money? Would he still help you bring the sun? You sigh wiping weakly at your eyes, before two golden eyes catch your attention.

A fox sits before you, tail swaying excitedly behind it. You crouch down before it, eyes widening as realization dawns on you.

“Are you my spirit? My kitsune?” you whisper, looking for any signs of recognition or intelligence. It blinks at you, head cocking to the side blankly. Warmth settles over you in an embarrassment. He stood you up; he wouldn’t show up now. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, even if you aren’t him.”

You rise brushing non-existent dirt off your thighs. Giving the fox a small wave before you turn your back.

You’ve taken maybe three steps before arms encircle your waist, and you’re held flush against something warm and hard.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” a low and somewhat familiar voice growls in your ear. You’re wiggling in his arms when he spins you, and you’re met with a new face that is way too close to yours But he’s handsome.

Blonde hair with dark roots, dreamy eyes, a smile that threatens to devour you alive. His yukata is half open, allowing your eyes easy access to his skin. You can see a tail flicker behind him in your peripheral, but you’re too focused on his eyes, how hypnotic they are. You swallow past the lump in your throat, taking in the two fuzzy fox ears that sit in his hair.

“Oh.”

His eyes widen, before his head tilts back, a burst of loud laughter filling the quiet air. Your stomach flips, and you try to squirm out of his arms, a bashful feeling overcoming you. But his hands curl into you, claws almost painful, but keeping you close. When his laughter subsides, he sends you another easy grin.

“You finally meet your almighty kitsune in the flesh, and all you can say is ‘oh.’” Hands settling against his chest, you blink dumbly at him, as recognition finally dawns on you.

It’s him.

You’ve heard him in your dreams so often, it’s utterly embarrassing you didn’t know soon enough, but it’s Atsumu. You cry out, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him against you. He nuzzles into you, laughing and tightening his hold.

“Hi.” It’s a whisper against your neck, and it sends a chill down your spine, reminding you of the impropriety of the position you’re in. You drop your arms, stiffening against him. Atsumu pulls back, corners of his lips pulled down in a small frown. “Why so shy?” Your eyes drop down, and his arms loosen, allowing you to draw back.

“This is different than in my dreams,” you murmur, not sure how else to explain that reconciling your pre-existing idea of Atsumu being a fox with the broad, handsome man before you isn’t going to happen immediately. But he doesn’t seem to understand, hands moving to cup your face.

“I’m sure it is.” Half-lidded eyes meet yours, and his nose brushes against yours, and your mind feels cloudy with the overload of information. “Let me make my little follower feel good..” He trails off, pressing a sweet kiss into your cheek. You bite your lip, brows pinching together in thought.

“I don’t know…”

“Why not?” he mutters into your neck, leaving stinging kisses up your neck, against your jaw. His hands travel to rest on your hips, squeezing the flesh there.

“You stood me up,” you pout, brows pinching in annoyance. Remorse ripples on his face, tail gently swaying behind him.

“I only want to see you. No one else. I was waiting. Do you know why?” Dark eyes spark in question, waiting. You shake your head, head feeling stuffy, letting him move your arms to wrap around his neck again.

“I want you alone, my sweet little sunshine girl. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. Let me make it up to you,” he coos, canine teeth poking out from his dangerous smile. His nose brushes against yours, eyes burning into you.

“Oh.” Atsumu barks out a laugh, head resting against your shoulder, fuzzy ears tickling your cheek.

“There you go again with an ‘oh,’” he murmurs, hands pulling you flush against him again. “Will you let me make you feel good?” He squeezes at your waist again, tail softly brushing up and down your leg. Something hot and dangerous flows through your body, desire blooming inside you, and without thinking about the implications, you nod.

“Ok.”

He shoots you a roguish grin that makes your stomach flip. A warm hand grasps yours dragging you past the tree line, deeper and deeper into the dark, until he stops, yanking you back into his arms.

“No one will find us here,” he murmurs nipping at your neck, ears twitching. You look around at the empty clearing.

“Are you sure?” you whimper, tugging at his hair as his hands slip beneath your skirt.

“I’m positive, little human.” His hand glosses over your rapidly dampening panties. His lips ghost over yours, eyes alight with a burning fire. “Now let me make you feel good.”

Atsumu surges forward, warm lips meeting yours. Your hands grapple into his hair, letting out a little whimper as his hand slips beneath your panties. His tongue slides into your mouth, ring and index finger gently spreading your folds. A whine leaves your throat when his calloused middle finger swipes through your slick. He drags the wetness up and around your clit, teasing the sensitive bud and making your legs tremble.

He pulls away from you, leaving your brain feeling thick as honey, and he brings a shiny finger to his mouth - the one that was in between your legs, you realize. Something hot courses through your body as his cheeks hollow out, eyes narrowed in on yours. Releasing his finger with a pop, he licks his lips, smirking at you.

“I’m going to eat you alive.” Your pussy clenches at his words, and his lips are on yours again. It’s messier this time, more aggressive, his sharp canines poking into you, the rough pad of his tongue trying to explore your mouth. Atsumu drops to his knees, pulling you down with him. He pushes you back into the grass, settling in between your legs.

A clawed hand gently pulls down your panties, and his thumb brushes over the wet spot. He takes a sniff at the fabric, eyes cruelly taking in your embarrassed face, and his tongue shoots out, lapping at your arousal.

“Atsumu,” you hiss, hands covering your face. A bark of laughter reaches your ears, and you feel your skirt being pushed up slowly. It’s only when you feel a hot presence hovering in between your thighs that you peek through your fingers.

Atsumu shoots you a sardonic grin before pressing his face into the warmth of your cunt, shutting his eyes, and inhaling deeply through his nose. You sit up, hands dropping, curling into the soft grass beneath you.

“Atsumu! Don’t do that!” you cry out, trying and failing to shut your thighs. His eyes blink open, and he sniffs at your cunt again.

“You smell good.” His hand lands on your torso, gently pushing you back down. “Human.”

You inhale shakily as he continues to inhale, fingers gently pulling at your pussy. With a certain tenderness, his tongue swipes at your folds, making you shiver, fingers digging into the earth. He hums happily before diving in.

A pathetic noise leaves your mouth as he groans into your dripping cunny. Squelching noises fill the air as he sucks and slurps, tongue circling your clit. You rock against him brainlessly, humping his face as you gush. It briefly crosses your mind that his fangs could do some serious damage, but it feels too good for you to care.

He paws at your clothing, shoving things away until you’re left with only your skirt bunched around your waist. His hands slide up, gently pressing into the newly exposed skin. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking at the bud.

You thrash under him, fingers tangling into his hair as your thighs squeeze around his head. Atsumu moans against you, rough tongue pushing into your sopping cunny. He curls the muscle, thrusting in and out as you buck against him.

“Gonna cum, ‘Tsumu,” you moan, pulling him tight against you. Eyes hazy, he thumbs at your clit, groaning as your pussy clenches, gushing into his mouth. You babble, fingers brushing at his fuzzy ears. It feels so good, so right, cumming on his face. You writhe against him, as your orgasm gradually subsides. And then ever so gently, Atsumu’s claw scratches at your clit, making you cry out. You weakly tug at his hair, catching his attention as he continues to lap away.

“’Tsumu no more,” you whine. “Wanna kiss you.” And you watch as he melts against your thigh, eyes darkening he finally relents, pulling away from your cunt. Lips glistening, he crawls up your body, before stopping above you. With a grin, he drops down, crushing you with his weight. You let out a puff of air, but you can’t help to laugh as his thighs bracket yours, letting him support some of his weight. He watches you fondly, tail stroking your leg.

“I was gonna make you squirt. But next time, hmmm.” You preen at his words, fingers rubbing at the base of his ears, pushing him down to meet your lips again. He hums happily, tail brushing against the inside of your thighs. You shiver and let out a small moan, cunt already feeling needy and desperate again.

“’Tsumu,” you whine again, this time grinding against him.

“Gonna have to say it,” he teases, sending you a smile that you find infuriating.

“Want you inside of me.” Your brows pinch in frustration, as you continue to try and rock up against him. He tuts as you, finger barely slipping into you fluttering pussy.

“Like this?” His voice is low in your ear, a dark taunt that makes you gush under him.

“Quit messing around!” you yelp, weakly batting at his chest. Atsumu laughs, pulling his finger out and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. His hard cock, lines up with your gushing cunny, and he drags the tip of his cock up and down, nudging your clit.

“Say it.” His eyes are dark, demanding, giving you no room to pout and whine your way out of having to say it.

“I want your cock inside of me,” you moan, squirming under his attention.

“Oh? You think you’re ready?” You nod pulling at his hair as you continue to swivel your hips, trying to force his cock inside of you.

“I can take it, I know I can! I’ll be good!” you cry out, shame evaporating as he begins to push in. Atsumu nuzzles against your neck, peppering kisses against the exposed skin.

“You’re always good to me.”

And with that, he bottoms out. You squeal at the stretch, legs locking around him forcing him to still as you adjust. His tail brushes against your legs reassuringly.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He grunts, nipping at your neck. “My perfect little human, so hot and creamy inside.” You clench at his words, nails dragging against his back. Your legs loosen, giving him room to draw back. He moans as his hips pull back, your gummy walls trying to keep him inside.

Atsumu slams back in, making you squeak out his name. You whimper as your body

“Gonna let me cum in this pussy?” He mutters in your ear, making your pussy tighten. “Gonna let me claim you? Breed you?” You nod, mindlessly babbling, as you tug at his ears. “That’s right, you’re mine. Mine, mine, mine.” You grind up against him, trying to meet his thrusts.

“Yours. Please. I’m gonna-” His teeth sink into your shoulder, making you scream. You clamp around him, legs shaking as you cunny flutters. He moans as you buck against him, feeling overwhelmed by the velvety heat of your cunny.

“I know you are! Cum for me, just like that. That’s a good little sunshine girl,” he coos, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you cream around him.

“Want your cum!” you slur, mind still reeling, pussy feeling extra sensitive as he continues to thrust.

“Fuck, really gonna let me, huh? That’s my little human.” Atsumu licks at the bite mark on your shoulder. When his hips stutter against yours, he groans your name, thighs tensing. You tighten your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him into you as hot cum fills you.

Atsumu collapses on you with a moan, leaving little kisses along your neck. His cock softens inside you, but he makes no effort to pull out, hands squeezing your waist. His tail swishes along your legs, the repetitive motion slowing your mind.

“You know. Earlier you said I’m always good to you, but you got it backwards,” you yawn, drowsiness clouding your brain. “You’re so good to me. Make me feel special and keep me company in my dreams. You always help me make the sun come out.” Atsumu stiffens at that, and you furrow your brows at the change.

“Atsumu? Are you-“ but he cuts you off with a tight squeeze, nuzzling into your hair.

“Real tired, baby. Just wanna lay here with you.” You nod against him, softly petting his tail as exhaustion overtakes you. ✨

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