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13lov · 8 months

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tethered pt. 2 | jjk

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 10k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, ...idk how else to describe it ] reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. long awaited part 2! the amount of love i received from part one was overwhelming and it means to world to meet that so many people instantly fell in love with this couple. another part is already in the works!

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @ilikekpop-c @busanbby-jjk @xjjk187 @aloverga @kookcobain @mzeji @bxcndd @hoseokteardrop @canyon-lwt @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @jksteponme @parkinglot-nights @chromekingkong @jk97bam [ if i didn't tag u it's because tumblr didn't allow me to! ]

part one | masterlist | ao3 | buy me a coffee?

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Somi is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Jeon Jungkook, the simple fact of him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.

With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Somi about hooking up with Jungkook, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you really hate keeping secrets from her.

“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.

“My parents told me, duh.”

Holy crap, Jungkook told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?

“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“Well, yeah!” Somi finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”

Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.

“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Jeon household once Somi allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Jungkook.

The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty?

Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Jeon siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them.

Somi snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”

“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Jungkook getting married in a few years?”

The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.

“Sure,” Somi responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person. He’d get married in a heartbeat.”

You want to ask what Somi’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Jungkook or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).

You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Somi’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Jeon ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.

“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.

Mrs. Jeon playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.”

Mr. Jeon sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”

“Maybe she can marry Jungkook,” Mrs. Jeon comments, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”

“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Somi groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.

Well, that answers your previous question.

“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.

“Yeah, we should.” Somi responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Jungkook! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”

“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.

As promised, Jungkook is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.

He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.

“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle.

“Seriously, Jungkook? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.

Jungkook cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Somi’s wearing the same thing.”

“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.

Jungkook takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”

“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.

You want to step in and remind his parents that Jungkook is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Somi surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”

“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Somi. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Jeon responds.

“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Jungkook abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”

What was that about?

Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Jeon sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”

“We will,” Jungkook responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Somi to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.

You and Somi say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Jungkook’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Somi to finish locking the front door, Jungkook rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”

“Will you calm down?!” Somi throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.

You follow her towards Jungkook’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Jungkook watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Somi to do the same. Once Jungkook is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.

Somi talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Jungkook glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.

The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Jungkook a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated for months. He informs you and Somi to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.

Jungkook shrugs when Somi asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you approach the theater entrance. "Some people say it makes the movie experience better."

You want to ask Jungkook if he's ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction, let alone ask him a question. So you're silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Jungkook's bandmates in the far corner.

Well… Jungkook's bandmates and one other guest.

The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Jungkook with open arms as if they haven't seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.

You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had already been watching you. His name tag reads 'Beomgyu,' and he resembles a younger version of Jungkook, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercings. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you're back to watching Jungkook reunite with his friends.

"Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Somi?" The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.

"Yeah." Is all you respond with, because why in God's name is this girl talking to you right now?

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Scar," she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.

Somi interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. "Your name is Scarlett."

She drags you along to the ticket booth, mumbling about how she doesn't like nor trust Scar. When you ask for her reasoning, she responds with, "I don't need one. I just don't like her."

At least you're on the same page about that.

Still, you can't help but wonder why Somi has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Somi (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar's personality, so whatever reasons she dislikes her could be legitimate.

You're thinking of this as Jungkook orders the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognize as Yugyeom starts tapping his shoulder. "We should go see Saw instead; it just came out."

Jungkook looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. "What? No, we came here to see Twilight."

"So?!" Jaebeom chimes in, eyes red as the devil, "Come on, dude, you've already seen Twilight. Don't you wanna see something new?"

"Fuck no, we're literally in the middle of buying the tickets." Jungkook reminds everyone.

"I kinda wanna see Saw, too."

"Same."

"Yeah, me too."

"I do, too."

Jungkook whips his head around at his sister, "What? Even you?"

Somi scoffs, "Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison."

"Come on, guys," the employee interrupts, "you're holding up the line."

Jungkook turns towards you. "Do you still wanna see Twilight?"

Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Jungkook was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh.

He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers, which she initially rejects. "I don't need your money," she claims.

"Just take it, Somi. I brought it for you."

From what you can make out, it's enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it's nice to know Jungkook still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.

Somi reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket; you watch as Jungkook follows suit, ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, it's fine. I have enough." You reassure him.

Jungkook laughs to himself, "Why are the two of you like this?" He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier, who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.

You don't know why Jungkook insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence in not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn't matter. You don't know why you're overthinking it.

Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Somi debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations for those whose movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can't really focus with the way Beomgyu is staring at you. You're used to guys always staring, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact.

Beomgyu is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you're suddenly anxious under his gaze.

When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you're sure to stick close to Jungkook as you approach the counter. Beomgyu eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. "What can I get for you guys?"

Jungkook takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share and doesn't even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn't let you pay, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. "You seriously have to stop doing that." He mumbles, handing Beomgyu the cash.

Beomgyu quickly prepares the popcorn and Jungkook's drink but takes his time making your slushie. He's sure to fill it to the brim, and you're worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. "You didn't want candy or anything?" He questions, handing you your drink.

You shrug, "Maybe Twizzlers, but—"

Before you can finish, Beomgyu is reaching under the counter and sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. "On me."

"Oh, are you sure?" You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.

Beomgyu sends Jungkook a cocky smirk before he responds, "Yeah, enjoy the movie."

You thank Beomgyu and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Jungkook to your theater. "That guy was weird." He comments.

"Yeah." You agree, but it's definitely not true. Beomgyu was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Jungkook, who sent you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone straightforward, then you should start going after weirdos.

Once you're settled in your seats in the back of the theater — per Jungkook's request — he clears his throat and says, "So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn't get anything back."

"Oh, sorry. I haven't been using Facebook that much." You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.

He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. "Yeah, I figured." He says. When you don't respond, he continues, "I would've asked Somi for your number, but I didn't want her to get suspicious or anything."

"That's smart." You admit, nodding in agreement.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks suddenly, his full attention to you.

You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you're too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you've been avoiding him. So you nod and say, "Just a little tired."

It's clear he doesn't believe this; the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers.

You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now. Never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago, you would've been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Jungkook, and now you're considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.

The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Jungkook immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are pulled back further. He's reticent throughout the movie, aside from a muffled chuckle occasionally; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.

You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Jungkook that you do, in fact, dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you're exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice and that you hope there'll be another movie.

Jungkook smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. "I'm sure there will be. Maybe they'll even cast you as Bella's stunt double since you already have the clothes."

"Shut up." You tease, and it feels nice to joke with him as usual. You may finally have the courage to tell Jungkook why you've been so distant these past few days.

Saw doesn't get out for another few minutes, so you're stuck waiting in the lobby for Somi and everyone else. Jungkook gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, "You get free refills on that, I think."

You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Beomgyu spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don't want to wait in a long line just for a refill.

"What flavor?" He asks once you've slid him your cup.

You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. "How was the movie?"

"It was good. The vampire stuff was cool."

"Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out."

"No, I haven't."

"It's so good; if you wanna give me your number, maybe we can see it together sometime."

What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they've already seen? You're not complaining; it's just odd.

Beomgyu is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He promises to call you once his shift ends and that he looks forward to seeing you.

When you turn to meet up with Jungkook, he's gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.

You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.

When he finally does stop, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different. "So you were just using me, huh?"

What? What is he talking about?

"Using you for what?"

"To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?" His voice is slightly hushed now but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.

"Jungkook, what are you talking about?"

"You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you've had sex before. Is that what this is?"

This accusation hurts, considering that Jungkook was the only guy you've ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don't know where this theory originated, but you don't like it.

Jungkook continues before you respond, "I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet, here you are, giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!"

"It's not like that, Jungkook!" You don't mean to raise your voice at him, but you can't help it. Both of your emotions were at an all-time high.

"Then what is it like?!"

Here goes nothing.

There are already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. "I didn't reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed."

"You were embarrassed to have sex with me?"

"No!" You yell in reassurance, "No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn't finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or didn't do enough."

Jungkook quirks a brow at you, "What makes you think I didn't finish?"

You really hate that he's making you explain this. "I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty."

"You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?" Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.

"No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger."

Jungkook takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can't tell what he's feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.

"So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?" Despite his stern demeanor, he's clearly shaking as he questions you.

You want to say no, that it wasn't a case, but you can't bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Jungkook nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.

If it weren't for Somi finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would've walked the entire way home.

This bitch is driving you crazy.

Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.

"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Jungkook.

It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Jeon household not once, telling Somi you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.

You have yet to speak to Jungkook; it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious. It's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.

You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."

She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."

You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."

"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.

Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fucking fit!"

"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.

"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"

"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding, with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"

This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.

Imogen doesn't respond to this, advised by your mother not to and to let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a mouse shake and entering your password.

Facebook is already open once you've signed in, Jungkook's page staring right back at you. You're ashamed to admit you'd been cyberstalking him, but you had no choice. Seeing him in person would've been too much, but you still want to ensure he's doing okay.

There's a new post up when you refresh the page; you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.

It's a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor's perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately; he's in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Somi would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now, you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.

A light tap against your door has you swiveling around in your chair. It's Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. "Who's that?"

"Somi's brother." You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.

Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. "Oh, yeah. Hasn't changed much, has he?" When you remain silent, she asks, "Would it be wrong of me to assume he's the real reason why you're so upset?"

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. "You'd be very correct, actually."

She nods in understanding, sitting on the edge of your bed. "So, what's going on? You like him?"

"We kind of like each other, I guess." You mumble. Honestly, you're not quite sure how Jungkook feels about you at the moment.

"And Somi doesn't approve of it?"

You snort, "Somi doesn't know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed."

"Are you guys dating?"

"No. We actually haven't talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings."

Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”

You shrug, “Home, I guess.”

She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”

Taking an impromptu trip to the Jeon household had you sweating. What if Jungkook doesn’t even want to see you? What if Somi catches you talking and asks what’s going on?

Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Jeon household.

“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.

“I am desperate.” You remind her.

“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”

You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Somi were to catch you.

You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight.

You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”

Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Jungkook,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”

What? She knows about that?

“Jungkook told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.

Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks

Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap.

“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.

You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

“Jungkook always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”

Aside from Somi, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Jungkook. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”

Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”

Woah.

“Somi? Jeon Somi? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.

“Hell, yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Jungkook would never.”

“You do know that Somi can’t stand you, right?”

Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.

“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Somi would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.

“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory.

“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Jungkook to crawl in.

“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Jungkook groans, sitting between the two of you.

“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.

Jungkook clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"

"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."

He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what was it?"

Jungkook anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."

Oh.

"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.

Jungkook snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"

"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."

Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.

A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"

Jungkook nods, "I guess."

"Then, what is it? What are you into?"

He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"

Ah.

"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."

"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."

Jungkook stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."

You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."

You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."

Jungkook shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."

Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.

He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"

You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Somi's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."

Jungkook nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."

You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Jungkook plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?

He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."

"Why?" You question.

"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.

"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.

"For Somi," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."

Though you've felt it for many years, telling Jungkook you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.

He nods, "Me too."

You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever.

"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.

You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Jungkook is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.

He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you.

You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"

"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Jungkook enjoys it with the way his erection is already pressing up against your thigh.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."

"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."

You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Jungkook nods, fingers drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.

"Trust me, I won't."

Jungkook is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.

He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, wrist gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”

“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”

It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Jungkook your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Jungkook likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay.

“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.

Jungkook stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”

“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”

He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” You question, legs folded underneath you as you sit beside him.

Jungkook slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.

There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”

He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”

You gulp, “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.

You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Somi if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”

“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Jungkook finishes for you.

You nod, “Exactly.”

He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”

“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Jungkook’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”

You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”

Jungkook leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”

“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”

“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Jungkook mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”

You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Jungkook as well. The idea of Somi not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried.

“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.

You cut him off, “I know.”

The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.

“Can we try something?” Jungkook asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.

“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Jungkook.

“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”

“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Jungkook’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.

“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.

You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Jungkook see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.

His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words.

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.

Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Jungkook slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders.

“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Jungkook pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress.

His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Jungkook reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.

His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue.

Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Jungkook is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.

His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”

You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Jungkook’s fingers.

Jungkook doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”

“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Jungkook lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”

“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”

“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”

“How’d I do that?”

“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his.

“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”

Jungkook shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A couple years ago, I was picking on Somi for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.

He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”

Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Somi should be here soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”

You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”

The next time you stop by the Jeon household, Jungkook has you bent over in the backseat of his car.

His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.

Jungkook insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell.

Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Jungkook gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.

You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Jungkook shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his.

A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.

You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”

“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”

“I came over to talk to Somi, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.

“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.

You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Somi. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”

“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”

Except you don’t.

You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Jungkook and procrastinating about having that talk with Somi. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother.

You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Jungkook doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.

“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.

“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”

“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”

His words play in your mind as you enter the Jeon household, following Somi into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.

“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.

“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up.

Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Somi used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.

She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.

“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Somi groans at her brother.

“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Somi responds, laughing at her words.

“Neither will you, soon,” Jungkook whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”

“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Somi asks, handing you another dish.

Somi takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Jungkook for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Jungkook says. When Somi finally directs her attention elsewhere, Jungkook takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them.

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Somi hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Jungkook’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much.

Jungkook wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Somi and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Somi as you help her load the dishwasher.

It’s now or never.

“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”

Somi smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”

You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”

“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Somi jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.

“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.

“As if.”

“Somi, I’m serious.”

She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”

“...Your brother.”

A beat of silence passes, and then Somi doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”

“Look, there really isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.

Somi has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

She shakes her head, “What kind of friend are you?”

Fuck.

“Somi, please, let me—”

She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Jungkook? Out of every fucking guy on the planet?!”

“No! Of course not! Somi, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Somi approaches you. The two of you have never been in a physical fight before, but the expression on her face tells you there’s a first time for everything.

“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”

“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”

“I think you should go.” Somi cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears.

You nod understandably, telling Somi to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk.

She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had.

“I’ve never seen her this angry, Jungkook. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Jungkook.

It’d been a few hours since you left Somi’s house; Jungkook had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke.

“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Jungkook has chosen to have ramen for lunch.

It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.

You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”

“...Okay.”

There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Jungkook had sent to your house.

“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”

“Of course. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”

He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

He what?

“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.

“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.

You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.

Twisting the knob, you’re met with Somi staring back at you. “Somi? What’re you—”

“I don’t care if you date Jungkook.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”

You follow Somi into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Somi, that’s not—”

“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Jungkook after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”

You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”

She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”

#bts imagine #bts smut #bts scenario #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenario #agust d #kim taehyung #13lov

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lnfours · 6 months

Text

everything | l.n

summary: he’s your best friend and you’re in love with him, but he’s not in love with you. or so you think, anyway.

warnings: fluff, a hint of angst, reader not knowing how love feels, kinda a situationship scenario but idk, also kind of hot trash?? - inspired by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine

masterlist | inbox | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

he was finally home. after months of busy schedules and being away from home, he was back. and the first thing he did? he texted you. he texted you and asked if you were busy, like he always did every time he was back in london.

you had told him no, your plans had fallen through last minute and to be honest, you missed him. you missed his laugh, the way he hugged you, the jokes the two of you shared. he was your person and you were his, it was as simple as that.

and sure, maybe he was your person for another, completely different reason. but at the end of the day, to you, he was just lando. he wasn’t ‘lando norris, formula one driver for mclaren’. he was the boy you had known since you were a teenager, the boy you cheered for on the sidelines ever since he decided he wanted to work towards his dreams.

so the two of you had made plans to go out for a drive and catch up, the tradition you held every time he came back. you’d drive around, get some take out, and head back to your apartment for a few episodes of your favorite shows or a movie he’d seen and thought you would like. he had picked you up, the mclaren running on the side of the street as you climbed in, closing the door behind you.

you smiled, leaning into his touch when he leaned over and wrapped you into a side hug from the drivers side, “hey! missed you,”

you smiled back at the brunette, his green eyes meeting yours, “missed you, too, lan.”

his eyes scanned yours before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. a new tradition you two had picked up ever since that drunken night in singapore. you had went to the grand prix with max, showing support for your best friend, just like you always did. somehow, someway, the two of you had found yourselves stripping each other’s clothes off in his hotel room. nothing but the sounds of your quiet moans and his mumbled curses filling the room as you learned each other’s bodies.

and it had become a thing, every time he’d come home you’d both find yourselves in the same predicament: tangled in the sheets within the hour.

the whole ordeal was like a dream come true in the beginning, something you had been wishing for since the moment you realized that maybe you loved him more than in a platonical way. now, as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, legs tucked underneath you as the rain pattered against the roof, your food in your lap as you stared out to the city lights below you, you weren’t sure it was a good idea. you had seen the girls that practically throw himself at you, why would he choose you over them?

he noticed your silence, tilting his head towards you and placing a hand on your thigh, “you okay?”

you swallowed thickly, “mhm,”

he knew you better than that, though, “no you’re not.”

you sighed, how do you tell someone who’s not in love with you that you want something more, “‘m fine, really.”

you picked at your nails, ignoring the way your phone was buzzing against your leg. you had assumed it was your friend texting you, begging for updates between you and the boy you were sitting next to.

“you know you can tell me anything, right?”

not this. not now.

you nodded, “i know.”

he nodded back at you, “okay,”

you looked back out to the window next to you, watching the rain drip down the glass. you swallowed the lump in your throat, biting down on your lip as you felt the tears prick your eyes. you felt stupid, stupid to feel like there was ever a real chance. a real chance that he could ever love you the way you loved him.

you felt his eyes on you again, “y/n?”

you hummed, turning back to face him, which was a mistake. you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“what’s wrong? seriously, i don’t know if i can handle the silence for much longer.”

you chuckled softly, shaking your head, “it’s nothing, really. promise,”

“stop lying to me,” he sighed, “c’mon, i’m your best friend. you can tell me anything.”

best friend.

you sniffled softly, which made his attention shift from your eyes to the small tear falling down your cheek in the dim lighting of the street light, “i just feel so… dumb.”

he raised an eyebrow, “why do you feel, dumb?”

he absentmindedly reached out and wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head and backing away from his touch.

he looked at you confused, a hint of hurt in his eyes as he watched you cry in front of him. he was wracking his brain, trying to figure out where he went wrong. trying to understand what you meant with your words, all while trying not to make himself feel like he was the reason for your tears.

you opened the car door, the rain smacking the pavement as you stepped out, “i can’t,”

he watched as you closed the car door, stepping out into the night sky and cold rain. he sat there for a second, his brain unable to catch up to what had just happened. his brain caught up, opening his own door as he chased after you into the freezing cold rain.

“y/n!”

you didn’t want to turn around, your tears mixing with the rain on your face. he was faster than you, though, grabbing your hand and holding you back from walking away from him. he spun you back to face him, your face glowing under the street light as he noticed how broken you look.

“what’s wrong!” he yelled over the pouring rain, “please, don’t shut me out!”

you let out a quiet sob, “i can’t do this right now, lando!”

he stood in front of you, frozen, as you repeated yourself, softer now, “i can’t keep doing this to myself.”

he shook his head, “what’re you talking about?!”

“just say it!” you shouted back, “just say you don’t really want me so i can move on and forget about it and we can go back like nothing ever happened!”

“what makes you think i want that?” he asked, “y/n, why do you think i come back to london instead of monaco whenever i have a break? because i want to see you!”

“not for the same reason i want to see you!”

“you don’t know that!”

you cried softly, turning away from him as he approached you again, taking your face into his hands. your eyes met yours as he spoke again, “y/n, i come back home to you because you’re all i think about when im not with you. every little thing i do, i think about you.”

you watched as his eyes scanned yours, begging for you to speak. he spoke first, though, “you’re all i think about, every night, every day. i should’ve told you how i felt sooner instead of dragging you on, but i’m falling in love with you.”

you shook your head, backing away from his touch again, “don’t,”

“don’t what?” he asked, “tell you i’m in love with you?”

“don’t say it if you don’t mean it. please, don’t say it just to make me feel better.”

“for one second can you just stand here and actually listen to me?” he sighed, “can you let yourself understand that there’s someone who actually loves you, standing right in front of you telling you. someone who’s ready to drop everything and show you.”

he reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him again, but this time you didn’t back away. he was so close to knocking down the final wall you had put up, so close to knocking down the walls you had put up as a sense of security. to keep yourself guarded, too scared to wear your heart on your sleeve once again.

but here he was, your best friend of all people, standing here in the pouring rain and giving you the fairytale moment you had always hoped for. the boy with curly brown hair and gorgeous green eyes was everything you could’ve ever wanted. everything you dreamed about, every future map you’d come up with in your journal, it always had him in it. one way or another, the two of you were meant to be.

two souls intertwined. that was you and him.

“lando-“

“i fucking love you,” he said, “so much that it physically hurts. like my chest gets all tight, and it feels like i can’t breathe-“

“lan-“

“and that night in singapore was when i realized you were the person i wanted to be with. not the models or the girls who throw themselves at me, i want to be with you. the one who knows my favorite flavor of ice cream, the one who knows all my greatest fears and all my secrets. the one who doesn’t judge me and i can talk to about anything. it’s you. it always has been, i’ve just been to blind to see it.”

the final wall came crashing down as you said his name, “lando,”

he hummed, his heart damn near flying out of his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your face so close to his as you mumbled a soft, “kiss me.”

he didn’t give it a second thought, immediately pressing his lips to yours. you kissed him back, the rain long forgotten about as the water from his hair dripped onto your forehead. he put every ounce of longing, passion and love into the kiss, a kiss nothing like the ones you had both shared before.

he pulled away, his forehead against yours, “you don’t have to say it back, but now you know that i love you.”

you pulled him back to you by his jacket, “i love you.”

he smiled before his lips were pressed back against yours. and you stood there, kissing in the rain, and everything felt like a scene straight out of a movie. the feeling something new to you no longer felt scary, or intimidating. it felt safe and warm.

and it was all because of him.

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pathologicalreid · 7 months

Note

Dude I love ur writing sm!! It’s literally so good and Buried Alive was amazing! If ur down for it (totally no pressure at all) I was wondering if u would eventually write a second part where Spencer helps the reader with the aftermath? Like maybe they struggle with PTSD or severe claustrophobia after that? Idk ur literally amazing enough I’m sure u have great ideas and again, it’s completely up to u, I was just wondering

above ground | S.R.

part one part three

in which spencer helps you cope with the aftermath of your abduction, and you reciprocate

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: hurt/comfort, angst

content warnings: claustrophobia, being buried alive, nightmares/night terrors, ptsd, death, cpr, use of pet names, mentions of drugs, therapy, suffocation

word count: 2.2k

a/n: hello anon! i am absolutely always down for spencer reid hurt/comfort!! thank you so much for asking!!! i've been super overwhelmed with all of the support i've received on buried alive and i'm so so grateful for all of the kind things people have said.

Standing in a dark room, you looked around your surroundings. There was nothing around you that told you where you were. The walls were all blank, the ground was cement, and it was too dark for you to even see the ceiling.

Hesitantly, you reached out your palm, touching the wall just for it to be met with something… damp? You pulled your hand away, and your skin came back dirty. Your stomach churned as you observed the soil that had settled in the creases of your fingerprints. “No,” you breathed, quickly moving to dig at the walls.

You felt it on your elbow next, like the dirt walls were encroaching on you. You turned around to see the dark room was just getting darker, and the walls started to deteriorate. Like an avalanche, the dirt of the walls falls to the ground, covering your feet, “No,” you cried out this time.

Digging at the walls just made your earthly prison bury you faster, so instead, you tried to climb toward the ceiling. You whimpered in defeat as you reached the previously unseen ceiling. The loose earth reached your chest, constricting your breathing. You tilted your head back in an attempt to keep the dirt out of your mouth.

Your face felt cool like a gentle breeze was being blown on it. You choked, but to your surprise, you didn’t choke on dirt.

There were hands on you, one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist. That didn’t make sense to you, someone hauled you into a sitting position, patting your back in an attempt to help you clear your throat.

The choking turned to coughing, which then turned to dry heaving off the edge of your bed. Very rarely did anything ever come out, but you kept a trash can there just in case. You blinked as someone reached over and turned on the lamp on your bedside table, the comforting hand remained on your back.

Desperately, you tried to catch your breath, tilting your head back as you tried to open your airway. “You’re safe. I’m right here, angel,” Spencer whispered from behind you, he leaned his forehead between your shoulder blades and drew hearts on your back with his index finger.

You took a deep, shuddering breath as you finally filled your lungs, visualizing the air going in and out of your body. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

Spencer continued whispering to you, not once did he tell you that your dream wasn’t real because it was real. To you, being buried alive was very real. The suffocation was real, it had happened to you.

Two months ago, you had been abducted and buried alive by a family, a mother and her two sons. All of whom were in jail awaiting trial. The two agents from the Omaha field office who had left you alone in the funeral home apologized profusely, you had a private meeting with the director of the FBI, and the BAU rallied behind you, it was nice, but none of it made the fear go away.

The first nightmare came the same night you were back in Virginia, and you had screamed so loud that your neighbors called the police. Spencer handled everything, and when the officers insisted that they needed to speak to you directly, he flashed his FBI credentials, something he really wasn’t supposed to do.

Your response was to avoid sleeping, at least at night. You stayed awake at night, reading, or watching TV with headphones on, and you slept during the day so that when you opened your eyes, you could feel the sun on your face. The problem was when you needed to go somewhere, you didn’t sleep, or when it rained, you didn’t sleep.

The exhaustion just made your anxiety worse, and Spencer caught on to it. He sat you down on the couch and held your hands, telling you that he understood that you didn’t want to feel like you were burdening anyone with your nightmares, but he needed you to understand that you were killing yourself at the same time.

He didn’t do it for everyone, but for you, Spencer took over the role of protector. He found you a therapist in the district that specialized in patients with PTSD and claustrophobia. It was an hour round trip, but Spencer was more than willing to take you the first few times.

Dr. Montgomery quickly diagnosed you with PTSD and claustrophobia. You hadn’t realized that claustrophobia was something you could be clinically diagnosed with, but the doctor told you that there’s a difference between a fear of enclosed spaces and what you had. He was straightforward, which you liked, and he told you that your claustrophobia was a response to the traumatic event that you had experienced.

A steady course of treatment that included medication and exposure therapy had slowly been giving you your life back.

But then there was Spencer.

Spencer had Morgan help him take the inside doors of your apartment off the hinges so air would flow, and you wouldn’t be afraid of suffocating. He left the ceiling fan in your bedroom on even as the weather cooled so the air never got stale.

Six weeks ago, you had mentioned offhandedly that you were having a hard time sleeping in total silence, and Spencer had come home later with a white noise machine.

When you apologized to him for needing the lights on to sleep, he responded by stringing lights around the entire apartment, telling you he read that warm light can help prepare the mind and body for sleep.

He turned in all of his PTO, even accepting some from David Rossi, who didn’t use his anyway, so he could stay home with you while you were on mandatory medical leave. He tagged along to therapy appointments, to the neurologist, and even to the FBI physician who needed to clear your physical injuries to your ribs before you could return to the field.

On his nightstand, there was a stack of books all about claustrophobia and loving someone with PTSD.

Not once through this whole endeavor did you question your relationship with Spencer, he made himself perfectly clear through his actions. He wasn’t going anywhere.

The FBI physician cleared you two weeks ago, your neurologist faxed Hotch paperwork stating you were without any deficits, and your psychiatrist told you that as long as you felt like you could avoid your triggers, you should be able to go back to work. In fact, Dr. Montgomery thought going back to work could be beneficial.

You were supposed to go back tomorrow.

Spencer was now sitting in front of you, and he offered you a small smile as you blinked yourself out of your nightmare-induced stupor and met his eyes, “There’s my girl,” he whispered. For a moment, you focused on his movements, smoothing your hair back with one hand and leaving the other hand resting on your waist. “I love you. You’re safe, you’re at home with me,” he reassured you.

You narrowed your eyebrows, “It was- I was in the ground again.” Hesitantly, you looked down at your hands, they were perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt to be seen.

“It was a night terror, angel,” he said, speaking gently to you as he reached over and pulled the strap of your tank top up and over your shoulder from where it had fallen. A night terror, not a nightmare.

Tears dropped down your face when you closed your eyes. “I couldn’t breathe,” you whimpered. Taking a gasping breath, you looked at Spencer as you tried to draw air into your lungs, “I couldn’t breathe, Spence. I couldn’t breathe.”

Quickly, Spencer pulled you into his lap and held you, “Shh,” he cooed. “I’ve got you, my love. I’m right here,” he murmured as you set your chin on his shoulder and cried.

“I suffocated,” you whispered, it was a fact of your life, that you had stopped breathing for a period of time. The doctors estimated you had been down for almost ten minutes.

His hold on you tightened, “I know,” his voice broke slightly. “I know, baby,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. “What do you need?” He asked, watching you intently as he reached up and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

You blinked the last of your tears from your eyes before meeting his, “Can we go outside?” You asked him, placing your hands on both of his shoulders.

Spencer nodded, leaning over to grab his glasses off of his nightstand before standing up and picking you up as he went.

Instinctively, you yelped, but a laugh escaped your lips. It was a foreign feeling sometimes, but Spencer always knew how to elicit a smile from you. “Put me down,” you said, but your tone was light.

Once your feet were touching the ground, Spencer looked at you, “I just wanted to see you smile.” He said earnestly.

Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirked up, “Thank you.” You reached over to grab your phone off the charger and slide it into your pocket before you led Spencer out to your apartment’s balcony. He sat down on one of the chairs and pulled you down onto his lap.

You let him hold you, not moving and just letting your body settle on top of his. The cool autumn air filled your lungs as Spencer held you. You let him hold you because you knew that his fear was just as valid as yours. While you were afraid of confinement because you had been confined, he was afraid of you dying because you had died.

“I can hear you thinking, honey,” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?” You asked him, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers together.

He sighed, “I’m worried about you,” he admitted. “I want to tell you not to go back to work yet, even though I know that logically it’s the next step for you,” Spencer said, you watched his honey-colored eyes as they studied your face. “And I know that you need it, you need to return to something dependable.”

You move your head so you can look him in the eyes better, “But?”

“But,” he continued, “the BAU isn’t dependable. You have this great routine that we’ve very nearly perfected and I’m so worried about you straying from it. The long hours at work could very well cause you to lose all of the progress you’ve made in the last two months,” he tells you candidly. “What happens when you need to get on an elevator, or when you need to get on the jet, and you can’t? What about when you-“ He cut himself off, swallowing thickly before he said something he couldn’t take back.

You shifted so you were facing him, shoulder to shoulder, “What is it, Spence?”

He took a deep breath and cupped your cheek with his hand, “The last case you worked on, you died. I pulled your dead body out of a casket. Fuck, Y/N,” his curse took you aback, he usually strayed from swearing. “I did CPR on you before Morgan took over,” he finished, voice growing hoarse.

Your lips parted; you couldn’t answer him. You didn’t know how to answer him, but you took his hand and selected his third and index finger before pressing them to the pulse point on your wrist. In response, he sighed and leaned his forehead to yours. You watched his lips move as he silently counted the beats per minute.

The both of you jumped when your phone went off, and dread filled your stomach when you checked your phone.

Penelope Garcia: Local case. Round table room in thirty if you’re up for it.

“If you ask me to stay home, I will,” you told Spencer, sweeping his curls behind his ears. “I won’t hold it against you, I’ll tell Hotch I need more time.”

Spencer shook his head, “You know I can’t do that. I can’t make that decision for you, and I don’t want you to make the decision for me, you need to choose what you want.”

You both went, Spencer distracted you for the entire elevator ride up to the BAU, but he was still tense. Even though he insisted he was fine, you knew him better than that.

Spencer followed you up to Hotch’s office and when you told Hotch you wanted to work but you didn’t feel ready to be in the field, your unit chief nodded and told you that you were welcome to stay in the local precinct and work on a geographical profile with Spencer.

You watched the tension leave Spencer’s body. He tried to tell you that you didn’t need to do that, but you just rolled your eyes and dragged him to the roundtable room.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid whump #spencer reid hurt/comfort #david rossi #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid angst #written by margot #margot's asks #criminal minds angst

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eddiesghxst · 1 year

Text

summer vacation

me writing a full eddie fic? who would've thunk fr

lmaoo here's a little something I randomly typed up, yes it is older neighbor!eddie and no, this trope will never get old (TO ME! TO. ME.)

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: older neighbor!eddie x college fem!reader

summary: You're back from college for the summer and your parent's new neighbor, Mr. Munson is hot

contains: age-difference (reader is 23, Eddie is like late 30's or sum idk...older), slight forbidden-relationship trope, car sex, making out, tiny mention of oral, fingering, slight praise kink, p in v (unprotected - don't be stupid), creampie, and eddie being a slutty flirt <3

word count: 4.6k

-masterlist-

okay, I think that's everything so...enjoy!

Coming home for summer was, for the most part, decent. You don’t have to worry about buying food and toiletries; you can spend your days doing nothing without feeling like shit about it, and apart from seeing a few familiar faces you aren’t quite fond of, you also get to see childhood friends you’d missed over the semester.

Your parents moved into a bigger house after your mom finally persuaded your dad to buy her the home of her dreams. White picket fence, green grass to match with a wrap-around porch, and a lovely pool in the backyard. It was beautiful, no doubt. And the neighborhood was nice, apart from the obnoxious kids that play rounds of ding dong ditch every now and then, along with your neighbor that blares his heavy metal music all day. You’re forced to listen to mixes of Dio, Megadeath, and Ozzy on a day-to-day basis, but you can’t find it in yourself to be mad, considering the man blaring said music is a sight for sore eyes. You’ve only seen him in passing, in the morning when he’s moving the trash for pick-up day or when he’s just getting home from work.

His name is Mr. Munson; your mother told you one day. “He’s quite friendly, actually. He hasn’t said much since we moved in, but he’s nice for the most part."

And you can admit when someone is attractive, and Mr. Munson is attractive. But he’s your parent's neighbor, so there’s not much you can do in that realm except admire from afar whenever you get the chance.

You end up booking yourself a babysitting gig for a family friend halfway into the summer: two kids, Lily and David, a set of six-year-old twins. For the most part, they’re easy to manage, David is quieter and more reserved than Lily’s extroverted nature, but they balance each other out enough for you to tolerate them.

It’s Friday night, and you have them until the morning because their parents are having a date night. Your parents have been on a cruise the past week, so apart from Lily and David, you’ve got the house to yourself. You let the twins choose what they wanted for dinner, and they picked pizza hut, something about them wanting to try cheese stuffed crust. You allow them to have one can of soda each as long as they promised not to tell their parents, and they swore on Lily’s stuffed animal, Oreo, that they wouldn’t share your secret.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when you settle into the couch to watch a movie. You’re under the impression that the twins are asleep until you hear the soft patter of little feet behind you. You turn around to see a sleepy Lily rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Hey, bud, what’s up?” You question, watching as she rounds the corner to stand before you. “I can’t sleep. The music is too loud.” Lilly complains. You frown, “There’s no music playing, buddy.”

Lily shakes her head and points towards the living room window, and you immediately know what he’s talking about. You can see the garage light from Mr. Munson’s house, indicating that he’s most likely working on something in there. You nod and get up, “Okay. I’ll take care of it; just wait here.”

Lily watches as you put on some shoes before slipping out the front door. You can see her watching through the window as you walk across the lawn toward Mr. Munson’s garage, and you laugh to yourself.

You’re slightly nervous to ask him to turn the music down, but you’re sure Lily isn’t the only annoyed person in the neighborhood, so you take it that you’re doing everyone a favor.

He’s leaned over the open hood of his car, elbow-deep in grease, as he tugs at a few parts. You don’t want to startle him, so you clear your throat, but it’s drowned out by King Diamond singing ‘Curse of the Pharaohs.’ You’re not entirely familiar with the band Mercyful Fate, but you’ve heard Mr. Munson play them quite a few times, enough to be able to name a few of their songs.

His garage is nice, mostly clean apart from cluttered shelves and cabinets. Three electric guitars hang on the wall, equally spaced from each other to form a pristine presentation. Around the instruments, the wall is filled with posters of different metal bands, a few of them you recognize but for the most part, you just think they add a nice touch.

You step further into the garage and lightly tap his bare shoulder. The man glances over at you, and you catch a glimpse of a cigarette hanging from his lip before he returns to his task. “Can I help you?” He mutters over the music.

Your mother’s words toss around in your head; He’s quite friendly, actually... he’s nice for the most part. Some friendly introduction that was.

You clear your throat before you speak, “Yeah, I…I live next door, um, I’m babysitting tonight, and so I was just wondering if you could turn down the music.”

He doesn’t respond, and for a moment, you think he didn’t hear you, but then he’s taking in a breath and standing up straight as he steps away from the car, grabbing the towel in his back pocket to wipe his greased hands as he turns around and eyes you for a moment.

You take in the full sight of him, dressed in ripped jeans and a shitty loose white tank top. His hair is tied back into a bun, messy bangs dusting the tops of his eyelashes as he blinks at you. He takes a drag of his cigarette before he speaks, “How can I help you?”

So, he didn’t hear you. You take in a breath as you rock on the heels of your feet; you speak louder this time, practically yelling over the music, “I’m babysitting right now, and uh, your music is a little loud.” He studies you, slightly narrowing his eyes before he speaks again.

“Don’t like my music, princess?”

Your lips part in surprise before quickly shaking your head, “No! No, I don’t mind, really. I’m not exactly the one with the request.” You gesture towards your house, and he glances over at where you had pointed to catch a glimpse of the little kid watching from the window. Mr. Munson lets out a small laugh, and you smile as he turns back to you, placing a hand against his chest and bowing his head, “My apologies.”

You watch as he turns around and walks over to the shelf where his stereo sits, reaching up for the volume and turning it down to an acceptable level. You take the time to admire the stretch of his arms and the few tattoos on display beneath the garage light.

He’s taking another drag of his cigarette when he turns around and walks over to you. “Better?” It’s a lighthearted tone he uses, straying away from what many would think to be condescending. You nod and breathe, muttering a small thank you before turning on your heel to walk back home. But for some reason, something compels you to turn around. You have to force yourself to ignore that he has still been watching you from where he stands, leaning against the side of his car.

“I really like your car, by the way.” You sound breathless, like you’d been holding the compliment in, and it suddenly burst from your lips. Mr. Munson glances down at the car and smiles. It’s a vintage 1968 Ford Mustang fastback, one you’ve seen many times on those car-themed calendars they sell at the gas station register. It’s black with nicely tinted windows and a top coat so shiny that you believe it’s freshly painted. It fits him perfectly; they complement each other in a seamless way that you admire.

“Why thank you, princess.” He’s walking up to you, and you hold your breath. He stands next to you and turns to join you as you admire the car from afar. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it and crushing it beneath his shoe. “You like vintage cars?” White clouds escape his lips as he talks, and you like how the smoke burns your lungs.

You glance towards him and nod with a smile, “Yeah. I’m a big fan of Mustangs. I wanted one in high school, but my dad said no— too fast for a 16-year-old, I guess.” You softly laugh, and he smiles, gazing over at you. “Remind me one of these days, and I’ll let you take her for a spin.”

Your head snaps towards him, and you glance up at him with a look of surprise. “I—... Seriously? I don’t know if I trust myself not to crash it.” You nervously laugh. He laughs with you and pats your shoulder, softly squeezing as he responds, “I’ve got faith in you,” You shiver when he leans forward a bit, “Don’t tell your dad; it’ll be our secret.” Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest when he sneaks in a quick wink, squeezing your shoulder once before walking back towards the garage.

“Um… Okay, Goodnight, Mr. Munson.” You internally cringe from your high-pitched voice, and you swear you can hear a smile when he responds, facing you as he gets back to work beneath the hood, “Night, sweetheart.”

You’re halfway down his driveway when he adds, “Oh, and uh… Just call me Eddie…” You turn around to see him sifting through his toolbox, glancing your way, and flashing a small smile. “No need for formalities. I’m not eighty years old.” He waves a dismissive hand, and you nod. “Okay… Eddie.” You tell him your name, and he smiles before returning to his task.

You practically sprint back to your house, slamming the door behind you with a deep exhale as you replay the entire conversation.

You spend the rest of your night thinking about your neighbor, Eddie Munson.

————

Over the next few weeks, you conclude that Eddie Munson was not flirting with you.

There’s no possible way he could’ve been flirting with you. For starters, he’s a grown man; he most likely wants nothing to do with a 23-year-old woman struggling to make her way through college. Secondly, you probably had just mistaken him being nice for whatever flirtatious fantasy you’d made up. And lastly, what puts the final nail in the coffin, is when you catch a glimpse of him walking into his home at two in the morning with a woman, one you’d never seen, but someone of his fancy considering the way she’d dragged him inside to do…god knows what.

So, no. Eddie Munson was not flirting with you, and he does not want you. As much as it crushed your ridiculous Lana Del Rey-inspired fantasies, you accepted that the older man had only seen you as a neighbor— a possible friend at most.

The two of you speak here and there whenever you cross paths when he’s leaving for work, taking the trash out, or when he’s working on his car, and you’re watering your mother’s flower bed—a friendly wave with a soft smile. You force yourself to ignore the little things he says that can be mistaken for advances because, in reality, he’s just being nice, and you have a crush.

It’s a hot Saturday afternoon when you see him again, three weeks after your first late-night conversation. You’re standing on the lawn, one hand holding a water hose to spray the flowers and the other hand busy holding a popsicle. Eddie is busy replacing a part in his car, something about a failed transmission he mentioned to you some days ago.

You’re busy listening to your summer playlist as you devour the sweet treat and water the plants, so focused that you don’t even hear Eddie call your name. Through the blaring volume of your headphones, you can catch the sound of a car horn, pulling you from your task-induced trance. You look over to Eddie’s driveway to see he’s pulled the car out of the garage and is now standing outside, leaning against the open car door.

You remove a single earbud and turn off the water hose. You can’t see Eddie's eyes behind the dark-tinted sunglasses he’s wearing, but you can tell he’s looking at you. “You still up for that drive I promised you?”

You think how quickly your heart begins to race inside your chest is stupid. “Uh— now?”

He shrugs, and you take a silent sharp breath, “I mean, unless if you’re doing something better—” “No!” You feel embarrassed at your evident enthusiasm, “No, I mean… yeah, okay, just…let me get my shoes.”

You don’t stay long enough to see Eddie smile, but you hear him chuckle to himself as you drop the hose and jog into your house. You curse as you rummage through your closet for the shoes you had in mind, hastily slipping them on once you find them and throwing away the rest of your popsicle. On your way out, your mother asks where you're headed, and you spin a quick lie about going to the gas station for a drink.

Eddie is patiently waiting outside his car when you walk up to him, a nervous smile plastered across your face. “Um… So, where are we going?”

He’s casually chewing a piece of gum as he lazily smiles; you can see the reflection of yourself in his glasses, and your heart races in anticipation. “You ever been to the drop-off?”

You shake your head no, and you’re becoming a little concerned with the rate your heart is beating as you watch the smirk on Eddie’s lips spread into a full smile. “Well, you’re in for a treat, princess.”

————

The ‘drop-off’ is a cliff.

A beautiful one, full of wildlife and trees, with a tiny stream at the bottom. You’d question Eddie's motives for bringing you here if you didn't know better. For all you know, Eddie could be a killer that’s coaxed you into his car, driven you out to this cliff, and intends to toss you over the edge to face your inevitable doom.

However, you don’t think that’s his intention, especially not with how he’s licking into your mouth with a lustful hunger, moaning against your lips when you climb over the console to straddle him and grind against the obvious tent in his jeans.

You’re not 100% sure how you ended up here, making out with your much-much older neighbor, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop and think about it because he’s kissing you in a way that makes you want to do unspeakable things.

“For a second there, I thought you wanted to kill me,” Stupid, such a stupid thing to say in the middle of making out, but you say it anyway. To your delight, Eddie breathlessly laughs as he looks up at you, licking his lips whilst his hands slip beneath your skirt to squeeze at your hips.

There’s music softly playing in the back, Mercyful Fate again; Eddie had told you he stumbled across a few of their old CDs while cleaning out his storage and has since been going through one of those phases where he can’t seem to listen to anything else.

You want to kiss Eddie again, but suddenly he’s clearing his throat and giving your thighs a soft pat in indication to move back to your seat. “I should get you home now; it’s late.”

The frown on your face isn’t hard to miss, but Eddie doesn’t see it either way, too preoccupied with avoiding your gaze. “What?” “It’s late.”

You gaze down at him silently for a few seconds before returning to the passenger seat. You don't understand. You don’t understand Eddie Munson. All this time you spent convincing yourself that he wasn’t into you has gone to waste now that he’s just stuck his tongue down your throat, but now he can’t even look you in the eye.

He takes a slow breath, twisting one of the many rings wrapped around his fingers. “Look…I know how this seems, and you probably think I’m an asshole, but… we can’t.” Eddie can feel you glaring at the side of his head, and he braves through it to glance at you. You look confused and upset, much like he’s feeling right now, unbeknownst to you. “Why not?” “Because I—” He looks at you again and pauses before shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

You let it sit for a few moments before you speak up and say his name, waiting until he looks at you to speak, “I wanted to come here… and I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and… I want you to fuck me.”

You’re not exactly sure where the sudden boldness came from, but you feel so fucking good having it off your chest. You want Eddie to fuck you. You’ve been wanting Eddie to fuck you; hell, it’s practically all you’ve been thinking about since you came home for summer and saw him. So many fantasies of Eddie fucking you in various places; your house, his house, on the hood of his car, in your backyard near the pool. You want it all, and you’re bored of using just your hands and imagination.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re really asking for here, sweetheart.” There’s a warning glint in his eyes, an offer to back out and forget this ever happened, but you don’t want that— you want him.

“But I’m not asking. I want you to fuck me, Eddie. And I know you want it too; otherwise, we wouldn’t still be here.”

Eddie looks at you with a gaze good enough to have you clenching your thighs beneath your skirt. He looks away with a breathless laugh, “You don’t give up, do you?”

You try to hide the smile tugging at your lips but fail as you shake your head. “Shit… Okay… Okay, fine, uh— get in the back.”

You try to be as coy as possible and not show your excitement as you climb into the backseat of Eddie’s car. You watch him sift through his glove box, cursing to himself when he can’t find what he’s looking for. “I’m on the pill,” You suddenly say, growing shy when Eddie looks back at you. “...Just thought I’d let you know.”

Eddie nods and shuts the glovebox, “I guess that solves that problem, then.”

Eddie’s then climbing to the backseat to join you, groaning in protest at the cramped space and his tight back. His lips meet yours in a hasty kiss when you advance, hungry to feel him in any way you can. He curses under his breath as he finally settles in, pulling you closer to sit on his lap. “You sure your parents aren’t gonna be wondering where you went?” He mutters against your lips, moaning when you reach down to palm him over his jeans. You nod, breathless, as you respond with a mischievous smile, “Told them I was going to get a drink.”

You’re back to kissing, rutting against one another like you’re getting paid to do it, and Eddie makes a comment about feeling like he’s back in high school fucking in some empty parking lot, and you laugh. Your laugh falls into a moan when Eddie sneaks a hand beneath your skirt to pet over your clothed center, humming at the obvious evidence of your arousal. You try your best to keep kissing Eddie, but you lose focus when he pushes your panties aside and drags a finger through your wet heat. Your hips twitch against his hold, and you mewl, dropping your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. “Need it, Eddie, please.” You beg, and Eddie hums, rubbing your clit and causing your thighs to twitch, “What, princess? What do you need, hm?” “Need you to fuck me.”

He chuckles, and you whine in annoyance at his teasing when he rubs your clit, “Gotta get you ready for me first, pretty girl. That okay?” He can feel you hastily nodding against his neck, hips squirming for more when he finally gives it to you, slowly sinking a single digit into you. Eddie’s sporting a short scuff these days, too lazy to shave, and the sensation of the coarse hair scratching against you sends shivers down your spine as you nuzzle against his neck, begging for more, more, more.

His other hand smooths up the expanse of your thigh and around your hips to squeeze the fat of your ass, groaning lowly when you whimper and push against his hand. “M-more, Eddie.“

Eddie could come just from hearing your broken voice beg for his fingers, “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, princess.” He sinks in another finger, slowly fucking them in and out of your wet cunt until you’re a whiney mess atop of him, begging for more.

You reach a hand out to hold onto the seat behind him, nails digging into the vintage leather as you rock against his fingers. The wet sound of Eddie’s fingers thrusting into you fills out the space, falling into a filthy harmony with his radio. Eddie will, without a doubt, be thinking about this moment for the coming weeks. He’s sure of it.

Eddie makes you come twice before laying you across his leather seats, once with just his fingers and again with his fingers, pulling down your tiny tank top to suck and lick at your tits, leaving little red and purple blotches across your soft skin.

The space is tight in the back of his car, but neither of you cares enough to mention it. You’re starry-eyed and blissed out as you watch Eddie sit up to unbuckle his jeans and push them to rest below his ass. Your mouth waters at the sight of him; he’s long and thick, not the thickest you’ve had but definitely the longest. As you watch Eddie languidly stroke himself, you want to wrap your lips around him and taste the small amounts of precum he smears across his tip. Eddie glances at you and smirks when he sees your hungry gaze; he knows what you want and wants to give it to you.

He leans over you and smears his sticky thumb across your bottom lip, begging for entrance which you gladly grant him. You wrap your lips around his thumb and suck as if it was his cock, swirling your tongue around the pad of his finger and humming at the burst of flavor against your tongue, the taste of Eddie Munson. You love it, and you want more, but Eddie has different plans.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and brings it down to slicken the slide of his cock as he strokes himself a few more times. He runs the tip of his cock from your entrance to your clit, slapping it against you a few times to pull pathetic moans from deep within your chest. He smiles, kissing you as he does it again, “Fuck, you’re so wet, Jesus Christ.” He moans against your lips, and you softly laugh, squirming to feel more of him. The sounds you’re making are obscene, both your moans and the wet sloshing between your legs each time Eddie taps himself against you.

“Eddie, please. Please fuck me, I want it so bad—” He cuts you off with another kiss before he pulls away to adjust your position. He lifts one of your legs to drape over his shoulder as he pins the other leg to the seat. “There we go, keep them open, baby. Just like that,” He hums in approval, and your chest flutters at the notion. The initial push of Eddie’s cock within your walls is what you’d imagine heaven to feel like in the form of a sensation.

He was big, that much you could tell from looking, but actually feeling it is almost otherworldly. You can feel every vein rubbing against your walls with each inch he sinks further into you. By the time he bottoms out, balls pressed against the thick of your ass and pelvis deliciously kissing your clit, you’re at a loss for words.

You can hear Eddie praising you for how well you’re taking him, but through your lust-clouded mind, you don’t comprehend much, too absorbed in the feeling of Eddie slamming into you repeatedly.

Eddie’s hand is pressed into the seat right next to your head, holding him up as he fucks you for all your worth, and you find yourself wrapping a hand around his wrist, nails digging into the tattooed skin. He hisses in pleasure, moaning when you clench around him. “You feel so fucking good, princess. Taking me so well, fuck.”

You let your head fall to the side, lips pressing against Eddie's wrist in a gentle kiss, and it seems to flip something in Eddie’s brain because he gives you a particularly rough thrust, humming when you let out a high-pitched moan. “Oh my god—- shit, you’re so fucking wet. This is all for me, hm?”

You’re pathetically nodding and moaning in response, grinding your hips to meet his hasty thrusts.

With your two previous orgasms, you find yourself teetering on the edge of overstimulation, thighs twitching to close around Eddie’s frame, but he’s quick to deny you the right. “Keep them open, princess. Need to see the way this pretty pussy swallows my dick.”

Eddie’s now sitting back on his knees, head tilted down to avoid hitting the roof of the car, allowing him to gaze down at the sight of your wet cunt taking every inch of him. He’s got tunnel vision as he coasts his hands from your hips to your cunt, slowing down his thrusts to spread your sticky lips apart slowly. You pulse beneath his gaze, and you feel him twitch within you. “Look at this pretty flower,” he hums, leaning down to let a dribble of spit drip onto your awaiting sex. You moan his name, and he smiles, dragging a thumb through the spit to spread it against your clit.

He begins thrusting again, caught between the sight of his cock drilling in and out of your pussy, the bounce of your tits with each thrust, and the way your face twists with pleasure whenever he hits that one spot.

It’s unexpected when you come; you’re practically speechless as Eddie fucks every thought out of your head. He groans at the feeling of you clenched around him, the view of you squirming beneath him and clawing at his seat. If it were anyone else, he would’ve bitched about that, but you look so fucking good.

“Holy fuck, I’m gonna come,” Eddie pants, and you moan in eagerness when he says it, eyes fluttering open to watch as he starts to succumb to the feeling. ”Fuck, where do you want it, princess?” “Inside, please. Want it inside, Ed’s.”

Ed’s, that’s what does it for him. He’s immediately tipping over the edge, pressing his entire length into you and filling you to the fucking brim. You can feel some of it leak out of you, dripping down your ass and onto the seats below you. You watch in awe as his jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut, and head tipping back in ecstasy. You want to take a picture and have this view for the rest of your life.

When Eddie pulls out, you’re sensitive and cry out in protest, but he kisses your jaw gently and tells you how good you did. He can’t help it when he leans back and looks at the sight below him, ringed fingers gently massaging your sore inner thighs, “You look so fucking pretty filled with me, sweetheart… I’m going to be addicted to you.”

You laugh, and he smiles before proceeding to help you get appropriately dressed again. Once you’re both dressed and cleaned to the best of your ability, with the help of a few leftover fast food napkins in Eddie’s glove box, you make your way to the front seats again.

Eddie glances over at you and smiles when you shy away. He reaches for his box of Marlboro's on the dashboard, and you watch as he lights up. He takes a slow breath, letting the smoke properly settle into his lungs before turning to you with a smirk.

“Let’s go get you that drink.”

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stursweet · 7 months

Text

dream

matt sturniolo

pairing : f!reader x matt

requested : “idk if this is too much / weird asf but could you maybe do one where the reader is having a dream (winks repeatedly) while sleeping next to matt and you like moan or something so he wakes you up and teases you and then makes you feel better… idk i’m a whore sorry you’ll make it sound better”

warnings : sexual content .. major warning ho .. not proofread

an: me writing for matthews fuckass (rare sighting) please enjoy even tho this is a fucking mess and i’m high🤗 i love you guys so much 💖🫂 knowing that y’all bitches take the time out of ur lives to read what my dumbass is typing means so much to me (corny but true)🤗💖 hope this feeds the matt girls cause y’all ferocious.. also i LOVE this request thank you anon baby i hope you like it even tho this trash as hell

his hand travels down your stomach, slow and taunting - his fingertips cold and harsh against your skin. your pulse is in your ears; your blood sits in your cheeks.

“tell me how bad you want it,” he whispers, lips pressed against your ear - his mouth moving to bite, suck, and kiss the sensitive skin on your neck and collarbones.

“i- i want-“ you struggle, his fingers suddenly dipping underneath your waistband.

“you can beg better than that.” a slight smile rests on his lips.

“please, please - touch me, matt - please,” you whine, followed by two of his fingers thrusting into you without warning. he curls them perfectly ; hitting your spot repeatedly, watching you writhe and thrash underneath him.

“don’t cum yet, baby. gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

a hand on your shoulder, shaking you. your eyes fly open: the room is pitch black - silent and calm. your heart pounds in your chest, and you become uncomfortably aware of the sweat on your neck and back. out of breath, panting, you turn your head to look at him.

his lips are twisted into a smile. he moves his hand slowly to your back, rubbing in soft circles.

“what’d you dream?” he asks, tone thick with taunt and play. you cover your palms with your hands, shaking your head.

“no, tell me, baby.” he instructs, continuing the gentle rub of his palm to your back.

“i don’t remember,” you reply. you feel the bed shake slightly - he’s laughing.

“don’t be shy now,” he whispers, his voice thick with sleep. the realization hits - you’d woken him up with your whines. you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“please touch me, matt, please!” he mocks you, laughing beneath your hand when you reach over to cover his mouth.

“what were we doing?” he questions. you shake your head in reply - embarrassment wiring your mouth shut.

“if you wanted me, you could’ve just asked, baby.” he whispers, his voice carrying a slight rasp.

“come here,” he instructs, sitting up for you to straddle him.

complying, you move to sit on top of him - your legs on his sides. he moves his hand to slide up your thigh, slow and taunting. you watch him as he drags his eyes up your body, drinking in the sight of you in only his shirt and a thong.

eventually reaching his hand to your center, he runs his fingers over your thong, breath hitching at the wetness he’s met with.

“soaked,” he whispers, leaning up to pepper kisses on your jaw. with his thumb, he begins tauntingly slow circles against your clit, reveling in the whimpers and whines that escape your lips.

“more,” you whisper, swiveling your hips down onto him in desperation.

“yeah?” he asks. “you want my fingers inside you?” he taunts, watching you nod frantically. instantaneously, he pulls your underwear to the side; pushing two fingers into you. the sound of your wetness is impossible to ignore.

“you hear that? how worked up you are for me, princess?” he taunts against your skin, slamming his fingers deep inside of you; up to his knuckle.

you nod, squeezing your eyes shut - pressure beginning to spin wildly in your abdomen.

“i’m -“ you choke, unable to speak through his merciless thrusts.

“cum for me, baby - all over my fingers.”

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo head canons #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolos #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #stursweet

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lucysarah-c · 3 months

Note

Hi! Happy new years eve ✨🥂 hope you had an awesome 2023 and all my best wishes and blessings for 2024 🫶🏼

Now, I can’t get this idea out of my head. Levi adopting a kitten with his girl. I always thought of Levi like a cat person, idk he just seem to fit on it. And as a cat person myself I would love to read something about it.

I can imagine him thinking is a bad idea but then he cant go anywhere in the house without the kitty 🫶🏼 so adorable I guess

Ahhh happy new year!! Thank you for all your well wishes and sending them back to you! I'm sorry it took me this long to write this for you sweetie! T-T so sorry

It started in the least expected way. Levi and his group of friends had been trying to find new ways to spend time together in their difficult adult lives. They wanted to revisit certain activities they used to enjoy in their glory college days and bond a little. You, of course, didn’t complain. If Levi decided to go camping with his friends or hiking on any weekend, it was also a chance for you to hang out with your friends at home, maybe watch a movie he doesn’t like, and have a “me” afternoon. It was all positive until Levi began to notice something during their hangouts.

Dogs.

All of them, particularly Mike and Erwin, had their own respective big, fluffy, loyal-to-death dogs that they would take with them on hikes, jogs, or even camping trips. You could see from the look in your boyfriend's eyes that he was envious. The only reason you and Levi hadn’t adopted any pets before wasn’t because of you in particular. You grew up with pets, loved them, and felt that the house was missing something without a fluffy companion. And don’t get me wrong, Levi had always had a soft spot for animals. But, in his own words, “As a kid, my family could never afford one… and Kenny hated them so.”

When you two moved in together, he didn’t want any pets due to "too much hair, too much mess, and too much money spent on the vet." But now, you could see in his eyes that he desired one, especially when they took pictures with his friends' dogs, and Levi hardly ever took pictures himself. Sooner or later, you brought up the idea, and he seemed excited. You quickly guessed that he wasn’t going to be the one to suggest it since perhaps his pride stopped him from admitting that now all the previous reasons he had given you to say no weren’t that important.

One lazy Saturday, you were walking past the doors of a shelter. Both of you admitted that if you were going to get a pet, it would be a rescue, giving the chance for an animal to live the American dream (two adults with good salaries, a pretty house, and no kids) after someone had made them believe they were trash. Both of you talked to the receptionist, who said that soon she would walk both of you to the dog’s department to choose. But when the guide came back and you were ready to go in and check out the puppies with your boyfriend, he was nowhere to be found.

Quickly, you followed the sound of people talking, and there he was, talking to a vet at the cat’s side of the shelter. The vet seemed to be deeply engrossed in conversation with him as you reached his side.

“Lev? Love, they are waiting to show us the dogs,” you called to him before smiling softly at the vet, acknowledging their presence.

“Oh, I was just telling him that she never gets close to anyone, not even to us. It was almost magical seeing her trying to reach out to him,” the vet said, and you quickly concluded it was the cat that was rubbing the top of her head against the front of her cage, trying to reach Levi.

“Aww, poor thing,” you said as you bent down slightly to have a better look at her face and perhaps give the cat some love through the small space of the bars. But the cat quickly moved away from your touch and softly hissed.

It hurt you, despite knowing that all cats have their temperament, until the vet spoke again, “Oh, she has always been a little grumpy; she’s not a fan of people.”

Levi also bent down to the cat's level, and he seemed to be the chosen one because the cat was continuously bumping her head against the cage, seeking more love from him. “Well, that makes two of us,” he commented, admitting his antisocial tendencies.

“When we found her, we thought she was feral because of the damage from living on the streets and her attitude, but we found she was chipped. We contacted the owner, but he said that since she couldn’t have more kittens, they left her in the streets,” both of you slightly raised to look at the shelter’s owner with heartbroken faces. “She’s been here for a while, but nobody wants her because she’s old, grumpy, and because of all the pregnancies she had, she has FIV, which is an expensive treatment an-”

“I’m taking her,” Levi interrupted the vet without a second thought, and you were about to comment that the plan was to get a dog, nothing against taking the little cat.

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of responsibility, and she’s rather old,” the vet warned.

“I’m sure. What do I have to do to take her home?” Levi replied with confidence.

That’s how Chai Tea, or just Chai, came into your life. She was a grumpy old lady, but you two loved her to death, especially Levi. She seemed to be a golden brownish Persian, which made sense given her breeding history, but one of her ears was damaged from living on the streets, giving her a permanently angry face. The first sign of her enjoying being a spoiled princess was during her first visit to the vet after her adoption, when the instructions were to reduce her food rations because she was already a bit too chubby.

“Shhh, don’t listen to the vet. You’re perfect,” you heard Levi whispering as he rocked her in his arms in the kitchen. “Here, have some ham.”

She was obsessed with him, and he was obsessed with her. Did Levi complain about the hair? A lot, but at least he took the effort to vacuum and brush her himself. In his own words, “If I can make her life worth it for even a little bit at the end of it, then I’ll do it.”

It was endearing to receive a text message from Levi saying "On my way home," and then witness the little fluffy ball rushing down the hallway with her short legs once you tell her "Chai! Daddy is coming home!"

It was incredibly cute how she would meow all the way to the front door, occasionally looking back at you to make sure both of you were going to greet him.

It’s rather funny how he went to a shelter to get a big dog for his "bro's" adventures and came back with a cat that demanded to be picked up and rocked in his arms while he prepared dinner. Even funnier is how he accepted it. Now your camera phone is full of pictures and videos of Levi humming lullabies, sleeping with a cat on top of him, or holding her up in the air so she can hunt a moth.

A little bit jealous? Perhaps. Sometimes, Levi seems more eager to greet the fluffy cat when he gets home than he is to greet you. But being able to give an elderly cat a second chance was a better experience than anything else.

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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multifariousqueer · 1 year

Note

Ok here’s my request and it’s not smut so don’t worry lol.

What if like Yn tried sneaking into Mike’s room with some good news or smth and she catches him doing the deed with another girl so she decides to leave and then he’s blowing up her phone but she cuts him off. Idk just angst angst and more angst lol

Ofc love!!!

A/n: It’s good to be back writing fluff, hopefully no one has an issue with this but if they do, oh well🤷🏽‍♀️. As always, feel free to request, just know if it’s a smut req, it’s gonna be written on AO3. Speaking of Ao3, follow it, its in my bio ❤️

Warnings: Cheating, suggestivness, language, reader being a boss as bitch and cutting Miles off, angst, brief mentions of vomit, breaking in, toxicity

“Congratulations, Y/n L/n you were admitted into (your dream college). We look forward to seeing you in the fall!” the admissions letter read

It felt like you were working towards this your whole life; your parents sacrificed everything to send you to a great school like Visions and they spent a ton of money investing into your future. To be honest, it seemed like a fever dream at first; you had wanted to go here since you were 11 and you were making your younger self so proud

You decided to call Miles and tell him the good news. Your parents were already informed and they were throwing you a party that weekend and you had told your friends, the only thing left to do was to tell the man you loved most in the entire world and his family that took care of you like their own.

You tried calling but it went straight to voicemail. This was unlike Miles because he never left you on delivered and he never declined your calls, even when he was doing Spiderman stuff. You decided to take a short walk over to his dorm to see if he was okay, since if he wasn’t home, Ganke was and you could just ask him where Miles was. So, you grabbed the letter, your phone and your bag and walked the 10 minute walk over to his dorm.

When you reached his dorm, you heard moaning and it sounded like the bed was hitting the wall. Your heart dropped to your stomach and tears welled in your eyes.

“no. It can’t be, Miles would never” you tried to reason with yourself

You knocked on the door and you immediately heard an “oh shit” come from the room, followed by shuffling. You begged and pleaded with God that this was all a mistake, a dream gone wrong, something other than what it was.

When no one answered for a second, you opened the door with the spare Miles gave you and you saw him on top of another girl. The girl was blonde, blue eyes, tallish, had an eyebrow piercing and looked like she could dog walk your ex-boyfriend

“m-Miles?” you questioned

“Y/n, It’s not what it looks like; I promise” He said frantically, trying to come towards you as you backed into the door

You felt sick to your stomach; it felt like someone dropped a two ton weight on your chest and crushed your heart. Miles and you shared some of the best and worst moments of your lives together and you never in a million years, thought that he would cheat on you. His mother raised him better than this and in that moment, you considered calling her to tell her what a whore she raised. You ran out of the room and to a trash can where you vomited, your stomach emptying all of it’s contents and hopefully, all of the memories you shared

“OMG ARE YOU OKAY?” Miles questioned

“GET AWAY FROM ME” You said, running away

He quickly webbed you in an attempt to explain but you weren’t having it

“How could you do this to me?” you kept whispering as he pulled you close and attempted to kiss your forehead and hug you

“I-I don’t know, it just happened. I still love you, Y/n I’m so sorry” Miles said, tears pouring through his eyes

You stood there motionless, numb and with tears glossing over your cheeks. This moment didn’t feel real, it felt like someone took you out of your body and Miles was hugging your shell.

He let you go but not before you looked in his eyes and said:

“I’ve been there for you for four years. I have been your girlfriend, engineer, friend, and in some cases, your mom. I feel so sorry that a beautiful soul like her could raise a poor excuse of a son like you. Don’t call me, text me or do anything to me. You just lost the only person who truly cared about you”

Miles just looked at you with rage and sadness in his eyes. His mouth was slightly agape but you just shoved your letter in his chest and stormed off.

You told your entire family, friend group and Miles’ parents about the affair and they all took your side. Miles’ mom was especially hurt, seeing as she saw you as a surrogate daughter

“Dios mío, Mija. I’m so sorry, from all of us No sé dónde me equivoqué(I don’t know where I went wrong)” She said, offering you a hug and a kiss on the cheek

“Gracias, Mama Rio but there wasn’t anything you could do about it. He made that choice to sleep with her and he has to live with the fact that he lost me forever” you spoke into her chest

“Si, si. I know it hurts but you’ll find someone one million times better than him, prometo” she said

“Thank you so much for understanding. I’ll still come over and participate in family functions if you’d like.” you spoke, even though your relationship with Miles was gone, you still valued your relationship with his mother

“Of course, mija. You’ll always have a home here” she said warmly

She wiped your tears and you headed for the door where you saw Miles. It had only been three days but he still looked disheveled, sad and had bags big enough to carry a gallon of milk under his eyes.

“Y/n, please listen-“ he started

You put in your headphones as you walked away, heading for the subway and fetching a taxi. Your friends already knew and were waiting for you in your dorm with chick flicks and food

“Heyy, we heard about the news. We’re so sorry, and we are here if you need anything” your roommate(your best friend) said

“Yeah” they all agreed

This time, the tears in your eyes were from the support you were getting, you smiled and sat down as they gave you your pajamas and slept over

The next week was a blur of you going to classes, Miles trying to speak to you, your friends talking about how shitty he was and people sending their condolences. You guys were the one couple people thought would never break up so this came as a shock to everyone. The Morales family send flowers(paid for with Miles’ allowance) and food, your family offered to come get you one million times, your friends comforting you in any way possible and even your teachers being a bit more lenient with you.

Miles was a train wreck on the other hand, he was broke, sad, and alone. Miles barely showed up for classes and when he did, he looked awful and stank. Where a clean, soft, sweet boy had once been; he was replaced by a crumb bumb who couldn’t keep his grades, friends or family afloat. The only person there for him was the girl he cheated with and he didn’t even want her anymore. He craved your sweet scent, your infectious laugh, your cooking, your kindness and your intelligence and so much more. Everything reminded him of you and it was killing him, even Ganke stopped talking to him.

People whispered in the halls as you two would walk through and even in the classes you had together. You had moved your seat away from him and your teachers were gracious in granting your request.

It was now nearing Summer and you were grabbing your things, smiling and getting ready to leave to your dream school. You had given Miles’ stuff back(lead to him begging for you back but you just left), erased any pictures of y’all together, said goodbye to his family and had wiped your hands clean of him. You began to feel like yourself again; you changed your hair, clothes, makeup and hangout spots(you avoided any graffiti clad buildings because you knew Miles would frequent there), you even went on a few dates

Most of them were a bust until you met one, his name was Thomas and he was nice and he was good looking. Where Miles and you differed, you and Tom came together. You shared common interests and you felt happy for the first time in a while. It began to feel like you had your groove back and you were a whole new person

It was a gorgeous summer day, the sun was shining and the birds were chirping; you had just gotten back from a cafe date with Thomas where you talked about nothing but everything at the same time, he offered to walk you home and gave you his sweater. You held his hand as you reached your apartment.

“wanna come inside?” you had asked for the first time

“yeah, sure. Only if you’re okay with it, I mean-“ he stammered

“I’m fine with it.” you smiled

You lead him to your apartment and kicked off your shoes.

“Hey, where’s your bathroom?” Thomas asked

“It’s right down the hall” you called, grabbing the remote and lighting a candle

“Okay, thanks babe” he called

“Hey who are- AHHH” Thomas screamed

“THOMAS. THOMAS?? OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?” you asked, running to the bathroom where you saw Thomas webbed to a wall with a figure standing in front of him

“Miles?” you asked in disbelief

“Hola, Mami” he smirked

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales headcannons #miles morales #miles x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #across the spiderverse spoilers #into the spider verse #spiderman into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanart #spiderverse #marvel #foryou

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betterfettered · 1 year

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Bruh can I be honest and say your Yan! Leviathan kinda scares me because Levi already lives rent free in my head and I kinda don’t wanna know what would happen if he figured it out?

I’m literally not joking about leviathan straight up living inside my brain rent free, like he actively takes up a shit ton of my thoughts enough for me to get the Tetris effect when I sleep.

And idk why but something tells me that if he knew that I’m practically obsessed with him, I wouldn’t be touching grass or seeing anyone else ever again for my entire existence.

Hey anon!! I am sorry this took so long, it got really long (3k words!!) and kind of went in its own direction hahaha. I hope you like it!! It turns out that you were right, and no one will ever find you in his clutches LOLL Let me know what you think?

(AFAB!reader x AMAB!yandere)(Plus size reader💖🫡)(noncon)(stalking)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(sort of kind of an AU but not really?)[This is fetish content and rape and stalking are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Your reaction was strange to Leviathan because he'd imagined it over and over again in his head no less than a thousand times but had not been able to divine what you actually reacted like. In his mind when he'd intentionally spilled his drink on himself you'd make a little surprised noise or say "oh no!" or laugh, but in reality you just frowned, your eyebrows lifting in shock.

The important part, however, you still did: you turned to your bag, rifling through it for some napkins, and offered them to him like it was nothing, like making his heart jackrabbit to the point of nearly shattering was nothing. He snatched them quickly so that you wouldn’t see how his hands shook in anticipation.

Okay, next say thank you, he said to himself and tried his hardest but was unable to pry his lips open or make eye contact with you or even breathe. When the elevator reached the floor that the both of you lived on, he sprinted from the elevator to get to his door, spilling plenty more cherry slushy on himself in the process. He could barely get his hands steady enough to get the key into his door, but the second he was inside and had slammed the door behind him he tossed his soiled jacket and the half empty slushy to the ground and hurried into his bedroom, dropping on his knees in front of his shrine of you.

Well, it wasn’t a shrine just yet. It was too small – he had only the things he could salvage from your trash, like an empty lipstick tube, a plastic fork from some takeout, a debit card statement listing all of your purchases six months ago. This was the first thing you had ever given to him, though, the first gift with your scent and blessing on it. He shut his eyes and held the napkins up to his nose, inhaling deeply and summoning the image of you to his mind.

Leviathan focused on your eyes, thinking about how your gaze meeting his meant that you were not looking at anyone else and, he imagined, not thinking about anyone else. It didn’t take long for the memory to become a fantasy: he imagined you looking at him still, but now with your bottom lip caught between your teeth out of sheer lust for him. Reaching into his nightstand for lube, he imagined your outfit, which was the standard button down and pencil skirt combination that was something of a uniform for office workers. It was unremarkable but for the way it hugged the soft protrusions of fat on your body. He liked to imagine that your larger size made you unpopular on the dating market, so he would (in his fantasies and occasionally dreams, when he was lucky) be the first to touch and squeeze and lick you – he’d be the only one that you granted such access to, because he and only he was that special to you.

He placed the stack of napkins on his bed and pushed his face down into them to free both hands to undo his belt and slather his cock with lube. Even just touching his shaft made him shiver and clench his jaw, but he didn’t start pumping just yet because his fantasy was still incomplete. First, he needed you to turn to him in his mind, walking towards him until you had sandwiched him up against the wall, every plump part of you pressing up against him like a full bodied hug. Then, when he nearly collapsed with desire both in reality and in his mind, you reached a hand down to his pants, running your hand back and forth over his cock and looking up at him and only him. Only then did he begin stroking, murmuring your name to himself and clutching his bed. It was only a minute or two before he reached his peak and came so hard into his other hand that he became incoherent, his own moans shoving your name out of his mouth to take its place.

Once he caught his breath and the immense pleasure receded, he was filled with a longing that made his eyes begin to tear, his mouth pressing together as he tried to hold himself together. He needed you. At this point, his fantasies were almost as torturous as they were alluring. Just imagining was not enough and never could be, because while he was here with you, you were off thinking about or talking to someone else. He needed the entirety of you and he needed to show you with his body just how much he worshipped you, the same way he did in his mind every night before sleeping.

His hands were slick with cum and lube, so he shut his eyes for a moment once more and rubbed two fingers into the other palm, imagining that it was your tummy covered in his cum instead, but could only tolerate the fantasy for a few seconds before climbing to his feet to go clean up both himself and the mess he’d made in the entryway. He spent the rest of the night hugging a pillow on his couch and watching the old Ruri-chan OVAs from his favorite season and trying to hold back the tears pressing against the backs of his eyes.

Leviathan did not see you again for another week – perhaps you had been working early or late. When you once again met in front of the elevator, he felt downright giddy and reflexively covered his face with the back of his hand, but the glee turned to pure shock when you turned to him and said “Oh, happy birthday, Levi!”

What he did not know was that the day before, a pair of gentlemen (one ginger, one with hair graying only at the tips) had mistakenly knocked on your door. The shorter one pointed and released a party popper right at your face, and the taller one held out a cake that had bites taken directly out of it. Surprise! They had said, and then the three of you were surprised indeed, because you were not who they were expecting and you had not been expecting anything but still could never have imagined this would happen. They asked for a Leviathan, you pointed them next door, and the one with the frosting on his face apologized around another bite he had taken right out of the cake. The other apologized, too, but distractedly, as he was preoccupied with sadness that he had wasted his only party popper on you instead of his brother.

No, Leviathan was not aware of any of that, because Beelzebub couldn’t control himself around the cake and Belphegor wanted a new party popper, so they gave up and planned to come back tomorrow, the actual day of, without saying a word to him. If Leviathan could have spoken in that moment, he would have asked you how you knew, but he could not, so instead he stared at the ground and tried to figure out how you knew. He didn’t generally think of himself as disposed to illogical thinking, so when it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, you had been just as taken with him as he was with you, he figured it was the most obvious conclusion.

He imagined that you had gone home after giving him the napkin and touched yourself, too.

Maybe you also had a shrine for him in your home, and one of the things in it told you when he was born.

“Have I said something wrong…?” you asked, eyeing his stunned expression.

It was all he could do to shake his head, because you had actually said the best possible thing that you could have. Was he dreaming?

When the elevator arrived to the right floor, he allowed you to get off first and then trailed behind you, not even noticing the antlers starting to sprout out of his head and the scales started to spread across his skin. It was as though he was mesmerized by you and couldn’t do anything but follow.

You got to your door, opened it, and then cried out when you felt his full weight against your back, pinning you to the ground. His tailed whipped out and slammed the door shut behind the two of you, and he pressed his nose into your hair, inhaling and shivering a little, feeling his common sense melting away to be replaced with only intoxicating lust.

“What are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice wavering with fear. “Get off of me right now!”

He didn’t reply, only focusing on how the way you were struggling was rubbing your ass up against his cock and making him pant. Was it really possible that you were here beneath him, all his for the rest of your lives together? Distantly he wondered why you were struggling if you were obsessed with him, but brushed it away as not important.

“Please, just get off of me and leave,” you said, your voice becoming thick with the tears starting to pour down your face.

He got to his knees, putting one hand on your shoulder and one beneath your tummy, pulling both upwards to flip you onto your back. You only resisted for a few seconds before allowing him to turn you over onto your back, your shimmering wet eyes meeting his crazed ones and drawing another sob out of you. This did not seem to stop him, as he almost immediately rested back on top of you and pressed his lips to yours, jamming his long tongue into your mouth before you had a chance to clench your jaw. You gagged a little at the length of it, long enough to reach the back of your tongue, and tried to push him off of you, which he merely ignored until you stopped.

He only pulled away and sat up when he noticed your elbow working against your side, at which point he wanted to observe what you were doing with your hand. You were holding your cell phone and trying to type something into it, but as soon as you saw him notice it you pulled it closer to your face, typing as quickly as possible. He felt his heart sink: even though you were in love with him, you were thinking of someone else while he was kissing you. Despair settled over him until it gave way to a sort of panicked jealousy: would you ever unlearn this? Could he trust you to commit to only him? You were going to be his first (and already had been his first kiss)…was he really ready for this? This would be your first fight with each other as a couple.

While he was thinking, he snatched the phone from you and crushed it in his hand, tossing the broken bits aside and pouting.

“Who were you going to call?”

“N-no one.”

“O-okay, well then! Who were you g-gonna text?!” he asked, being able to hear how pathetic he sounded himself.

Try to sound like Lucifer! He told himself, and sat up a little straighter. You can do this, you can do this.

“Th-that…was cheating,” he said, and then tried making his voice a little deeper. “Don’t think of any one else. Ever again….uh, d-do I make m-myself c-clear?”

Complete fail, uggghhhh

It took a moment for you to calm yourself enough to speak.

“Please just let me go,” you repeated around sobs. “I won’t call the police or anything. I won’t even mention it to my friends. Just…please don’t....”

He climbed to his feet at that, though he didn’t leave you even a moment to think your pleas had worked on him before he wrapped you up in his tail, lifting you off of the ground and above his head. You cried out and struggled, kicking him with your feet a few times until he held you further away, but he paid no mind and instead locked and deadbolted the door behind the two of you, then walked deeper into your apartment, checking all of the doors in his path until he found your bedroom. He wanted to pause to look around and examine every last bit of you that the room contained, but he was so hard that it was starting to hurt, so he darted over to your bed and slammed you down onto your back, unwrapping his tail so he could sit down, push your legs up and put them on either side of his waist.

Unfortunately, you still had not learned your lesson about struggling, so he clamped his tail down on your neck to hold you still, tightening it when you started to move around too much, and grabbed both of your wrists to hold them beside your head where the end of his tail could wrap around them, too.

You were talking, or maybe just crying, but he couldn’t focus on that. His attention was completely absorbed by his cock pressing into the heat of your core and your writhing body.

He reached out with shaking hands and undid the buttons of your shirt, taking a while not because he was savoring it but rather because he was trying to undo them too impatiently with his uncoordinated fingers and not being that successful to the point that he ripped the last few buttons open in his haste. His hands pressed down into your plush stomach and then, after a moment of enjoying your inviting softness, he ran them upwards until he held your tits in both hands, squeezing them in a circular motion the way he had seen in a few hentai movies and then pushing his fingers into your bra to touch your bare skin and catch your nipples between his fingers, pinching them until you gave a short whimper that made his cock twitch. He slid his hands out and yanked the bra down to reveal them, then leaned down into your chest and shoved his face right in the center of it, squishing your tits against either side of his head while his hips started to buck against yours, greedily craving the friction between you. His face felt so hot at this point, and yet was no match for the warmth of lying there against your heart.

While he’d had plans to lick and suck your tits and maybe bite them a little to see if he could get you to make noise again, he didn’t think he could wait any longer to penetrate you, he sat up and shoved your skirt upwards around your waist until he could reach your panties, then pushed your legs together in front of him with his arms so he could pull them off of you (and stash them in his pocket). He felt so relieved that he’d only worn joggers today and didn’t need to bother with a belt or a zipper, so there was only a second between your panties being removed and the head of his cock pressed right into the folds of your pussy.

“Don’t! I’m begging, please don’t!” you wailed.

“But y-you’re wet,” he observed, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to spread your juices.

You didn’t reply fast enough; he lost patience and shoved into you with a desperate whine. It felt even better than he had imagined day after day all of this time, so he didn’t move at first to try and avoid cumming immediately. Instead, he reached for your hands, freeing them from his tail so he could weave his fingers into yours and press them into your sheets on either side of your head.

“L-look at me,” he panted, tightening his tail around your neck when you didn’t obey. “I s-said to look at me.”

It took a few seconds for you to run out of air and begin struggling to breathe, but you did eventually look at him, instantly making his heart pound. Suddenly, he felt unbearably shy, so he buried his face in your neck as he started to fuck you, slowly but insistently, his pelvis grinding up against yours like he couldn’t get deep enough inside of you, his moans muffled beside your face. Feeling your breasts jolt against him with each thrust he couldn’t help but start to fuck you a little harder, too, just to feel them bouncing beneath him.

He didn’t think to tell you when he was about to cum, since his mind was completely whiting out from the pleasure and his moans sounded frantic and irregular because he couldn’t quite control the sounds he was making, so you only knew that he was filling you when he stopped suddenly, releasing your hands to grab your hips hard enough to hurt and pull you as close into him as possible. His entire body shook against yours for a while. Once he relaxed, still panting but not digging his fingers into your flesh as hard any more, his entire frame draped over yours with exhaustion.

Ten minutes later, he finally sat up to address you, lovingly stroking your hair and cheek.

"That was so much better than in my head. I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life.

“Um, I don’t think you finished, right? S-sorry, I’m…anyway, I’ll read a little more about how to satisfy you on reddit! Then I’ll show you what I learned. We have a lot of time for me to practice until I get it right. I'll definitely make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Just let me go,” you murmured, out of tears.

“I never will,” he answered, his voice so resolute that it grew steady even if for only a moment as he promised that. “I’m in l-love with you, a-and you’re going to love me. And only me, no one else. If you think of anyone else, I’ll…I’ll hurt them. And you, too.”

Perhaps you weren’t out of tears after all, as the words made you start to cry again.

This time, he pulled you upwards and wrapped you in his arms while still inside you, grateful for the opportunity to feel as though he was taking care of you. His mind was already starting to wander to plans of where you both would live, how he could punish you to make sure you never spoke to any one else again, and what he would tell his brothers and closest gaming buddies about the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Dreams really did come true. The two of you only had happily ever after in store for you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #betty fetty #tw noncon #cw noncon #tw: noncon #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #obey me levi x you #obey me levi x reader #yandere smut #omswd smut #obey me smut #obey me levi

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