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super-predictable98 · 7 months

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Glass and Gold Child

Chapter 1: One Day in the Life of Alex Yates

Word Count: 2 k

Warning: Strong language, alcohol abuse

a/n: Hello everyone! In my mission to write as many Michael and David characters as I can, here's another effort: a wee rewrite of There She Goes with my OC.

2015:

Simon had been trying to get Rosie to calm down all morning. Ben just watched that disaster unfold while their father tried to drag her back from the park to have dinner.

"Where's your sister when we need her?" Simon groaned, pulling Rosie away from a car that she ran to because the license plate had a big X on it, her absolute favorite.

"What's going on?" Alex asked when she came back from her judo practice. She still wore her white trousers with a black tank top and her brown belt wrapped around her waist.

"Fuck, Alexandra, there you are! Can you…?"

"Hey, Rosie!" She greeted with a big smile.

"X! X!" The little girl called.

"That's me, come on, are you gonna be good or will I have to give these wotsits to Dad?"

Rosie let out a happy screech when she saw the blue package and reached for it. It was never too quiet around her, she was always making noises to communicate, but those happy noises were always welcome.

She took the snack from Alex and gave her older sister a clumsy hug.

"Can you say thank you?" Alexandra asked.

In response, Rosie did the sign in BSL and her sister ruffled her hair.

"You're a miracle worker," Simon sighed as they walked from the park. "You can't be going around and leaving us alone. She needs you."

"You hear how insane that sounds, Dad?" Ben chuckled. "She's not her mum, besides, she was at practice not even hanging out."

"Not helping, Ben," he hissed.

"It went well then?" Emily, the matriarch of the family, asked while she prepared the food.

"As well as it can go," Simon murmured, watching the kids get around the table. "I was thinking, what if we never send Alex to college?"

"What? Are you insane?"

"You know what I mean! Sometimes she's the only one who can calm Rosie down and can you imagine the epic meltdown that Darwin's little exception is gonna have when her big sis moves out?"

"Simon, we can't just ask Alex not to live her life. We're their parents, it's our job to look after them, not hers."

"Now you just sound like Ben!"

"Because even an 11-year-old boy has more common sense than you! She's 17, she'll leave eventually, we're gonna have to make it work."

"Remember when it was just her?" Simon smiled.

"When you were not a total prick? Yeah, I remember."

2001:

"Where's Daddy?" Alexandra asked, crawling on the floor, even after she learned how to walk, she still loved to crawl.

"He's coming home, remember when I told you about Daddy working to buy your Christmas presents?" Emily picked up her little girl and kissed her forehead. "Why do you love Daddy so much? Can't it be Mummy?"

"No! Only Daddy," Alex laughed at her mother's expression when she said that.

"Where are my girls?" Simon opened the door and opened his arms to take his daughter. "There's my little princess! How you doing, sweet pea?"

"Good! I missed you!"

"I missed you too!" He bounced her and kissed all over her chubby little cheeks. "Oh, there's my queen."

"Good one," Emily laughed. "She's been talking about you all day, she's a little chatterbox."

"Aww but that's cute! Remember when she'd speak full sentences before she could even walk? It was a nice party trick."

"I know, and it's cute, but I do hope our next daughter is less chatty. For my sanity."

"I heard that!" Alex gasped.

"See, now you hurt my little princess!" Simon joked. "Can you get me a beer, Em?"

"Noooo I don't like beer Daddy," the little girl cried.

"Wow, that is not concerning at all…" Emily arched an eyebrow. "Did Daddy ever hurt you after drinking beer?"

"Only on the inside…"

"No! I'm not-! You meant your heart, right? I hurt your feelings?" Simon asked, panicked.

"Yeah, you were mean."

"See, Em? Never say that again, sweetie, people might get the wrong idea and then they'll take Daddy to jail. Is that what you want?"

"No! We need to watch Barbie and the Nutcracker!"

"Good girl, if Daddy's in jail he can't watch Barbie and the Nutcracker with you."

2006:

"HIYAAAAAA!" Alex jumped on her father's stomach after bringing him to the floor with a rather flawless valley drop.

"Jesus Christ! That's what we're paying for? For you to learn how to kill your father in karate?" Simon groaned, curling up into a ball.

"It's judo, Daddy!" She laughed.

"Oh pardon me, I wouldn't wanna be rude to the little girl who just broke my ribs. You're always complaining I'm not home enough and when I am, you just wanna punish me."

Alexandra frowned and wrapped her little arms around him, kissing his cheek. She did complain because ever since her mum got pregnant, she would barely see him at all.

He was always 'at work' or with his friends and whenever she saw him, it was beer Daddy, not the one she loved.

"I'm sorry, I didn't wanna hurt you."

"Hey, sweetheart, it's okay," Simon assured, kissing the top of her head. "Daddy's sorry, okay? I wish I could be home more, but- it's hard to explain, my baby. Sometimes grown-ups do silly things even when they know it's wrong and then when they try to undo it, they can't right away. But I promise I'll make it better."

"Are you and Mummy getting divorced?"

"Why did you have to be such a smart girl?" He sighed. "I don't know, darling, I don't want to, but sometimes it's what's best for mummies and daddies."

"And then we'll never see you again?"

"Of course you'll see me, Alex! Even if one day I'm no longer Mummy's husband, I'm still your and your siblings' daddy, that'll never change. You're stuck with me for life, kiddo. Is that okay? You being stuck with your old man?"

"That's okay," Alex smiled. "I wanna come live with you if you leave."

"Why is that, princess?" Simon sat up, a bit worried that she'd given that whole thing so much thought. She shouldn't be pondering on that sort of thing.

"Because Mummy loves Rosie more. She only ever holds Rosie and talks to Rosie and about Rosie."

"Awww Alex, that's not true," he took her in his arms, stroking her long dark waves. "Mummy is only busy with Rosie because she was just born. She's just a little baby and she was born really small, she needs attention."

"I know, but when Ben was born, it wasn't like that. Mummy still loved me when he was a baby."

"Mummy still loves you now, sweetie, don't worry. But if you ever wanna come live with me, that'll be okay and… I mean, not that we're actually getting divorced. That's not happening as far as I'm concerned. Okay?"

"Okay… is it time to go to judo yet?"

"Yeah, it's time, come on."

Simon grabbed her Barbie backpack with her uniform and a little snack.

"Are you gonna stay and watch me?" Alex asked hopefully.

"I can't, sweetie. Daddy's meeting Aunt Helen, but I'll be there when you're done," Simon picked her up and looked up the stairs. "Em! I'm taking the little monster to judo!"

Father and daughter took the train, as Simon wouldn't learn how to drive to save his life, and he dropped her off at her class.

Alex saw Daddy leave and wanted to cry, to scream about how he never sat to watch her practices anymore like the other parents did, but she didn't. She was brave and put on her uniform all by herself.

She diligently got through her class and changed back into her street clothes, excited to tell her father that she was getting a new belt soon.

"Hey, I'm getting the yellow-orange belt, Daddy. It means I'm halfway to getting my orange belt which is my favorite color! I can't wait!" She whispered to herself as she sat right outside the dojo with the other kids.

One by one, the kids were picked up by their parents, but Alexandra stayed there, swinging her little legs and rehearsing what to say to Dad when he finally arrived.

"Yeah, she's still here," the sensei said into the phone. "Don't worry, I know you have a new baby at home, Mrs. Yates, I can drive her. It's no problem."

Alex never got to say her perfectly rehearsed lines celebrating her new achievement. She sat in silence the entire car ride back to her house and when her mother opened the door, she burst into tears.

"Hey, hey sweetie, it's okay," Emily hugged her after putting Rosie down in the crib. "Don't cry, baby. I'm sorry you were scared."

"I wasn't scared! He didn't come and he told me he would! Why won't anyone love me anymore?" Alexandra hit her head on the wall a few times before her mother could catch her.

"Mum? Why is Al hurting herself? Don't hurt yourself, Al!" Ben whispered, bringing her a pillow.

"Hear that? Your brother is worried about you, he loves you and so do I, so does Rosie, so does Daddy. And your grandparents, Aunt Soph…"

"Daddy doesn't love me, he left me there. He's not my daddy anymore!"

"It's not true, Al, you're his precious little princess and he just made a mistake. He forgot he was supposed to be there or he missed the train- the point is, everyone makes mistakes," Emily said even though she was also furious with her husband and that was far from his first fuck up. "Tell me how was class, let me make you something to eat."

"I get a yellow-orange belt next week, I'm not hungry," Alex said while she stomped up the stairs to get to her bedroom.

She hid in there all afternoon and when it was almost time to sleep, the door slowly opened and Simon came in stumbling over himself.

"Mummy just told me what happened, I'm so sorry, my pumpkin pie. I lost track of time, when I realized it was already eight," he slurred.

"Get out of here! You stink, I hate beer Daddy! I hate all daddies! I hate you!"

"I understand, I get it. I love you though and I'm really sorry," he said, too embarrassed to look her in the eye. "Mum told me you're getting a new belt? That's exciting, you're one closer to orange, your favorite."

"Whatever, if you cared you would've watched me."

"I swear, I promise next week I'll be there to see it."

"No, you won't! I don't believe you anymore. Go away, I'm going to sleep."

2015:

The noise her sister made was indication she wasn't happy about it.

"That is my monster, its ears are so fluffy!" Alex read and closed the book. "Now, my little monster Rosie, it's time for bed."

"I know, I know you don't want to. But let me tell you something. I know you can't talk, but you understand me, right? You get what X is saying?"

Rosie didn't nod or give any proof that it was true, but she stared directly at Alex, she was listening.

"If you close your eyes and fall asleep, you can play with the nice monsters and Hippo in dreamland. Right here," she touched Rosie's head. "Don't you wanna play with Hippo and the monsters from the book? Yeah, I know. So please, close your eyes and sleep, alright? I love you, pretty girl."

When Alexandra put up the gate to stop her sister from leaving the room, she noticed her parents were watching from afar.

"Sorry, I'm gonna go wash the dishes now," she chuckled, knowing she was behind on her chores.

"No! Don't you dare, Alex," Emily hugged her tightly. "You help more than enough and honestly I feel bad about it sometimes. Daddy will do the dishes."

"What? Why me?" Simon yelped. "I mean, yeah, I agree she shouldn't have to after getting Rosie to sleep, but why me?"

"Because you're a lazy arse," Alexandra laughed.

"You know what? Let's just order some pizza and relax while we have a little time," Emily suggested.

"Ah come on! We order pizza every week, let's have something different," Simon wrapped his arms around each of them.

"I don't think lazy arses have the right to decide," Alex laughed. "Come on, let's play a game while we wait. Oh! And remember tomorrow everyone needs to come to the gym, I'm getting my black belt!"

"Don't worry, princess, we'll all be there for you," he smiled.

#there she goes #there she goes fanfic #david tennant fanfic #simon yates #fanfic #au #oc

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luverofralts · 1 year

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Arkhelios Adventures

“Can you say ‘Daddy’? Come on Junior, you can say it.”

Abe groaned with frustration after Abe Jr squirmed and wiggled instead of learning to speak. Theo and the girls had been a breeze to teach to speak, but then again, Roman had been the one to really sit down and try to teach them. Abe had only done the follow up exercises.

Abe Jr wasn’t an enthusiastic learner. He was content to wander around the house, playing with his toys while Abe had higher ambitions for him.

The older Abe got, the more he could find himself understanding his mother, which was a thought that horrified him. As a kid, it felt like torture to study and push himself to meet her standards, but now that he understood the importance of good study skills and good grades, he found himself repeating her words back to his children. It was an unnerving experience to see his own children glare at him and pout like he and Lucy had done years ago. It wasn’t like he wanted to parade his successful kids around town, boasting about his parenting skills like he always assumed his own mother wanted. He loved them with everything he had and only wanted the best for them, if only they could see how important the lessons he was trying to pass on to them really were.

“I’ll give you some banana if you say daddy,” he coaxed, remembering Theo’s weaknesses as a toddler. His own mother had tried to bribe her children into compliance and it had usually worked out. To the best of his ability, Abe couldn’t really remember anything distinctive about his father’s parenting style, aside from saying ‘yes’ to just about everything. Ian hadn’t been a proper father for years now, considering that he was now half-rotting as a zombie, but Abe mostly remembered his mother’s parenting style anyway. Well, if whatever Elaine had done to her kids counted as parenting.

Though, now that he thought about it, all three of her children had had surprise children by the time they were attending college and in the case of Abe’s siblings, they also appeared to enjoy provoking their mother for their own amusement. Lucy was...Lucy, and Nathan honestly creeped his older brother out sometimes. The Chun siblings were terrible children and barely functioning parents of their own kids. Maybe it was best if Abe let Roman take the lead with parenting styles. Roman’s family may have been monsters, but they knew how to get things done. That Bellamy over confidence frequently overwhelmed a stubborn child about to have a meltdown.

“Theo’s friends went home. He should be down soon to help with dinner.” Roman rummaged through the fridge, looking for his salad dressing. “Saturnia, honey, don’t forget to turn your oven off. It’s a fire hazard.”

“Was he still mad about us summoning him?” Abe asked before their son stomped downstairs to overhear their conversion. “I still can’t believe it worked. We finally have some ability to keep him from walking the streets three countries over whenever he feels like it. I was about to break out the demon traps again if it didn’t work.”

“Oh, he’s pretty pissed,” Roman replied with a small chuckle. “It’s just like when he was a baby and he’d give us that glare of his when he didn’t get his way. If looks could kill....”

“We’ll have to send Lucy a thank you gift. This spell is going to keep Theo from making our mistakes and keep him out of danger. I don’t think the girls are going to be as difficult to keep in the house at night, but it’s good to have a backup.”

“I have dessert ready,” Saturnia exclaimed,showing off her baked prize proudly.

Roman smiled, reaching for a bowl. While Saturnia hadn’t been born with the demonic powers of her oldest brother, or the psychic abilities of her older sister, she had still inherited a skill from her father. Just like Roman, Saturnia loved to be in the kitchen helping her father with his baking.

“That’s great, Saturnia,” he replied. “Let’s put it on the counter to cool. Maybe the smell will tempt your brother downstairs.before he needs to be summoned again.”

#sims 2 #arkhelios #arkhelios adventures #abe chun #roman bellamy #saturnia bellamy #sim: saturnia bellamy #sim: Abe III Bellamy #abe III Bellamy

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lovelyyy-luna · 2 years

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spring break

pairing: (jonathan levy x fem!reader)

fandom: scenes from a marriage

pronouns: she/her

type: smut

warning: jonathan being kinda a weirdo (watching reader on camera), masturbation, toys, squirting

word count: 1810

a/n: have I actually seen this? No. but ive seen edits on tik tok.

date:

masterlist

You loved your side job. It consisted of babysitting the sweetest little girl, Ava.

And another bonus was seeing her very attractive father, Jonathan Levy.

You were in your last year of college, and you had just finished one of your classes just before spring break. You picked up Ava from her daycare and took her to Jonathan's house to pack what she needed for her mom's.

It's only been a couple of months since Jonathan and his now ex-wife Mira divorced. Since their separation, you were still a part of their lives, so you agreed to commute between them not to mess up Ava's routine drastically.

You were packing up Ava in your car when Jonathan came out.

“Here you go, honey,” he said, handing Ava one of her stuffed animals that you knew if she realized she didn't have it, she would meltdown in the car.

“Wow, I can't believe I missed that.”

“It happens. Y/N, there is something I've been meaning to ask you.”

You turn around and face him. He was standing so close to you. The smell of his morning coffee stained his scent, and you could hear the stutter in his breath.

You hum for him to continue with his thoughts.

“Oh, um, could you maybe house sit for me for a couple of days? I'm going to a conference just a couple of towns over. It'll be for tonight till Monday morning.”

“Yeah, of course. That's perfect. I have a paper due after break, so it'll be nice to get some peace and quiet.”

“Perfect, just come back after dropping Ava off.”

“Will do, boss,” you say, giving him a cheesy salute.

He chuckled and went back into his house. You watched as he walked away; he was so handsome and sweet you didn't understand why Mira would divorce him.

It wasn't like you hated Mira; she was a pretty good mom. You just hated what she did to him. You remember when they had their big fight, and he got drunk and called you. Yes, it was inappropriate, but he and you were good friends and just wanted to comfort him. To this day, he doesn't remember.

Once you clipped Ava in, you started the car and dropped her off at Mira's.

You unpacked your car and started to fill up Mira's car.

“Where are you guys heading again?” you ask, playing Tetris with the luggage.

“Just to visit my parents for the break.”

“That's right. Well, I hope you have a safe flight.”

Mira smiles, thanking you, and you give your hugs to Ava.

You go in your car, and Mira picks Ava up, waving goodbye to you.

You stopped by your dorm to grab your papers.

“So Y/N, you coming over to Kyles for the kickoff?” your roommate Sonia asked.

“Nah, Mr. Levy asked if I could house sit for him.”

She groaned in annoyance, “Ugh, Mr. Levy, this, Mr. Levy, that. Are you going to fuck him?”

“Excuse me?”

“God, Y/N, you've talked about this man for three years. And your wish finally came true. He got divorced; he's obviously single, so go after him.��

“I can't do that, Sonia, he's still in his mourning period, and I doubt he even likes me that way.”

“Remember when I picked you up from his house? You dropped your textbook on the ground, and when you bent down to pick it up, he was staring at your ass. Then we both made eye contact, and he looked at me like he had just been caught. Believe me. He likes you in that way.”

You said your goodbyes to her and then went back to his house.

Once up the driveway, you opened the door and saw him running around trying to find something.

“Hey, Mr. Levy, I'm back.”

“Hey Y/N, and for the last time, call me Jonathan.”

You mouth sorry and smile, “What are you looking for?”

“My watch. I swear I just had it. And now I'm going to be late because of it,”

He went on, and you went into the half bath, and it was sitting near the sink. You walked back out and handed it to him.

He smiles with relief, “Honestly, what would I do without you.”

He walks away, fitting the watch back on his wrist.

“Okay, give you some pizza money on the counter, and I believe you know the rest,” he grabbed his bag heading to the door, “and if anything happens, just remember I'm a couple of towns over, so call me any time.”

You nod, and he says goodbye getting into his car.

You lock up behind him and get started on your paper.

The paper didn't take long to finish, so you submitted it, and that was that.

You go to the living room and sit on the couch, scrolling on your phone. Then you get a facetime call from Sonia.

“Hey, everything okay?” you ask.

“All good, just got back to the dorm.”

“Alone? What didn't score at the party?”

“Not really; those girls can be clingy like I just wanna hook up.”

You laugh, “Well, I'm sorry for that.”

“How's the house? Getting creepy yet?”

“Not really,” a small purple light was seen from the corner of your eye, “just finished the paper,” it kept blinking.

“Girl, what's up with you? You hear something?”

“No, I keep seeing a blinking purple light.”

“Aliens?”

“No,” your eyes focus underneath the entertainment center, “It's a security camera.”

“Is it a white box with blue around the edges?”

“Um yeah.”

“Oh, my mama has one of those. When it's blinking purple, the main person who sets it up is watching the feed.”

“What? Someone is watching me?” you say in a low, calm tone.

“Yeah, maybe it's Mr. Levy; you should give him a show.”

“Goodnight, Sonia.”

She tried to protest, but you hung up anyway.

You tried to shake her words out of your head; you decided to put a movie on and make popcorn.

You laid down on the couch, letting the film absorb you.

He sat at the bar top with his colleagues at the hotel, glancing at his phone for what seemed like every second. He was just watching you lay there, watching as you grabbed some popcorn, let your tongue stick to one, and dragged it into your mouth.

Did you know he was watching? Was this just an act?

“Hey Levy, you okay?” one of the men at the bar asked.

“Yeah, just checking to see if my team made it to the playoffs,”

The men at the table agreed with what he said. He then looked back at his phone and saw that you had your overnight bag out and started to take your clothes off. He quickly excused himself and went to his hotel room.

You were changing right there in front of him. Then he thought about it for a second. Why was he doing this? You were like a member of the family. His daughter adorned you.

Then he thought about you, how you smile, how you smelled when you brush past him trying to catch Ava, how you look when you have just your undergarments on.

He went on autopilot and started palming himself against his room door, watching you change into your pajamas.

Okay, you admit it. You kind of hoped he was watching you. Like, how hot is that?

The light was still blinking purple, and you knew only he had access to it because he was trying to get rid of most of the things he and Mira shared.

Then you remembered something you packed. A toy. A simple, fun toy. You usually used it when you couldn't fall asleep or were stressed, but now you get to use it for pleasure.

You get up from the couch again and unzip the small bag and grab it from the base. It was a good size. It was small, but it filled your hole just right. It also had a little nub attached to it for your clit, and you loved that part.

You lay back on the couch, turn the toy on, and put the vibration up to your nipples.

Jonathan couldn't keep his eyes off you. There you were in his house about to play with yourself.

Mira used to joke with him about how she suspected you might have a crush on him, fuck he can't think about his ex-wife while hes touching himself to you.

He doesn't even remember when he got his dick out and was now on his bed. He was painfully hard, just the thought of your soft wet lips kissing his shaft and then having you swallow him.

“Fuck,” he moaned, allowed. Seeing you on the screen now, take your shorts off, and you rub the tip of your toy up and down your already soaked panties.

Thank god for HD cameras, he thought.

He watched as you threw your panties on the floor and spread your legs wide open just for him his own private viewing.

You tease yourself. You put the vibration right on your clit, and your head fell back in pleasure, and you felt yourself getting wetter and quickly inserted the toy, having it stretch you out.

You imagined Jonathan here with you, thrusting into you, making your tits bounce as he made you feel every inch of him.

You play with your nipple twisting them, moaning as the pain pleases you.

The rhythm of your hand started to pound harder into you. You were panting and moaning. You unknowingly slipped something out, “Fuck! Mr. Levy!”

He heard you loud and clear, which made him go even faster, cum was leaking from his tip, but hearing and seeing you, he knew he had to keep going.

Your moans were like music to his ears with the slip of his name mixed with some cuss words he was edging himself. He wanted to come when you did.

“Fuck, Y/N, that's it, baby, just like that.”

He heard your breathing become rapid, and he knew you were close.

“Come on, baby cum for me, fuck.”

You pressed your toy in you at an angle, and the vibrations on you caused you to squirt all over your hand.

“Holy shit, that was….”

“That was fucking amazing,” he said on his end.

He watched as you wiped your hand off and put on your pajama shirt. You stood up to go into the kitchen, but then you stopped. He was confused by this, and then he noticed you were picking up the security camera.

“Enjoy the show Mr. Levy?” you said with a devilish smile.

He got his shit together and left the hotel. You were about to have the best spring break ever.

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#lovelybean #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x you #jonathan levy y/n #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x y/n

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kudosmyhero · 10 months

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Detective Comics Annual (vol. 1) #8: Questions Multiply the Mystery

Read Date: December 31, 2022 Cover Date: July 1995 ● Writer: Chuck Dixon ● Penciler: Kieron Dwyer ● Inker: Kieron Dwyer ● Colorist: Richmond Lewis ● Letterer: Albert DeGuzman ● Editor: Darren Vincenzo ◦ Scott Peterson ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● this is (if I remember correctly) my first time reading the Riddler in comics! ● (btw, Cory Michael Smith is fabulous as Nygma in Gotham. Aaaand, I have only two degrees of separation from him thanks to a cousin who taught some of the classes where he went to college!) ● (pg 4) wow that scowl of Riddler's is intense! ● oh, it's spelled "Nigma" here ● I like the sepia-toned flashback panels ● (pg 9) ohhh, Eddie admits to cheating. I thought he disliked being accused of that. But I only know him from non-comic book sources, so… ● (pg 10) at least the poor kid who was getting bullied before gets a bit of a break. ● Brian T. Zer = brain teaser. cute ● (pg 17) the tiny parachutes! 💙 ● "Why did the cottage go on a diet?" - hmm… I dunno ● "When's the best time to go to the dentist?" - 2:30 (tooth hurty) ● "What day do soldiers hate the most?" - uh… March fourth? ● riddle 1 - ah, to be a lighthouse (I was right on the other two) ● (pg 20) oo, nice entrance by B-man ● I love the inking and color styles; makes the art feel very noir ● I bet Bruce Wayne is missed at this fundraiser ● … how else does one pronounce "banquet"?

● Query and Echo are having so much fun. I kind of love them. ● (pg 48) Yo-Yo Ma gets a mention! (wrong instrument, though) ● (pg 52) ahhh, I wondered why they'd let him keep his clothes in Arkham! It was a delusion. ● 👏👏👏

Synopsis: The Riddler, occupying an observation room at Arkham Asylum, expresses his annoyance with the inept psychiatrists' repeated attempts to pierce his psyche, and decides to give them what they want: the story of his life, how he became a criminal, and why he repeatedly opposes Batman.

As a child, Edward was a cipher, ignored by even the playground bullies at his school. Hungry for attention (especially with ignorant, unloving parents), the young Edward began his "career" in the sixth grade by cheating at a solve-the-puzzle contest - by sneaking into the school the night before the contest, he was able to practice solving the puzzle, and easily won the contest. Edward's fame proved to be fleeting, however, and the young boy realized that to keep the attention he so craved, he had to turn to his true talent: cheating.

After graduating, Edward became a deliveryman, a job he found extremely tedious. Out of boredom and greed, he began stealing from his clients, but even this could not satisfy his ego. Eventually, he donned the alias of "the Riddler", and started sending riddles to the police foreshadowing his future crimes. The Riddler's early career was fraught with many difficulties, missteps, and a narrow escape from Batman, but nevertheless, he managed to accrue a respectable amount of loot and two loyal henchwomen named Query and Echo.

With Query and Echo, the Riddler came to the crowning caper of his early career: a raid on the Reservoir Street depository that completely misled the police and left him with two million dollars. Once again, Batman narrowly failed to capture him, giving the Riddler a more impressive reputation than ever. Now overconfident, the Riddler planned an even bigger caper: stealing a set of Stradivarius violins from both a private collector and a public opera. Unfortunately, Batman quickly put an end to this caper, handing the Riddler his first unqualified defeat.

As he recounts his humiliation at Batman's hands, the present-day Riddler begins to have a meltdown. In a fit of psychosis, he breaks the one-way glass between him and his doctors, only to realize that his doctors had left on lunch break; he had been telling his life's story to thin air all along. Orderlies rush in and subdue him, leaving the Riddler near-catatonic and muttering "no one there…" on an endless loop.

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Detective_Comics_Annual_Vol_1_8)

Fan Art: The Riddler by Sno2

Accompanying Podcast: ● Bat-Books for Beginners - episode 09

#dc #dc comics #my dc read #podcast recommendation #comics #comic books #batman #fan art #riddler #podcast - bat-books for beginners #my first riddler read

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lexa-griffins · 1 year

Note

I love how passionate you got when you talked about milf Lexa 🥰

Let's start with the basics. How did Lexa meet her ex and what happened?

I love Milf Lexa a very very normal amount I swear!!!!! (she says, vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass).

Alright, so Lexa and her ex Jennifer (or Jenny how everyone calls her. I envision her as Katheryn Winnick) met back in college. Lexa got a massive crush on her and once Jenny realized the cute sorority girl was into her, she asked her out and soon enough they were dating. For Lexa, it was a complete fairytale, Jenny was charming and the funny type of sarcastic, the bad girl type that can still win over the parents. She just didn't know Jenny she was just going with the flow. She found Lexa insanely hot and a cool girl to hang around and she did care for her but she was never really as in love as Lexa was. And then they got an apartment together on their last year of college and they shared the bills and it was fairly comfortable for Jenny so she stayed. And then Lexa proposed and she said yes. For Lexa this was everything she ever imagined her life turning out like. They got married at 23 and then Lexa asked about kids and about three years later Lexa was pregnant with Alex and then he was born.

And then things shifted. Jenny clearly loved their son, that wasn't a question, but she did not seem to want to do any of the hard lifting, meaning she'd get the giggles and the laughs while Lexa dealt with meltdowns and colic and blown out diapers. And then the comments. Suddenly Lexa was not putting an effort in their relationship, she was giving the baby all the attention, they hadn't had sex since before Alex was born and Jenny would make comments about how Lexa had stopped taking care of herself - as if Lexa wasn't already having a hard time dealing going from a fit young adult to now having a softer body and no time to work out. Things got better when Alex turned one. Date nights become a thing again, they started having sex more and Lexa had managed to get fitter again, definitely not how she was pre-baby but she was feeling like herself again.

Around this time, Jenny started talking to other women. Lexa though they were doing so good now and then she found her messaging a girl from work, nothing ever happened but there was definitely some emotional cheating. And then, after a talk, Lexa suggests what she now realizes was selfish and not the time for it but what she thought could save their marriage: another baby.

And it worked... for nine months. Lexa really felt like they were gonna go back to being a happy family once their daughter arrived, Jenny was so loving towards her, answering to Lexa's every whim, taking such good care of their little boy. Delilah was born via c-section and the day Lexa bought her home was the day she knew their marriage was over. She was in the hospital for four days and everything inside the house was at it had been when she left it when her water broke, not a single dish washed, nothing. Their bed was still unmade and when Lexa sat down to rest a little she was woken up not ten minutes after by her crying newborn being shoved into her arms for a diaper change 'cause Jenny was too busy building a lego tower with Alex.

Delilah was one when Lexa broke it off. She just couldn't take anymore comments about how she let herself go and gotten "fat", how gross it was for Jenny to see her c-section scar, how noisy the kids were all the time, and how everything was always Lexa's fault. And yes, she did still blame Lexa for being the one to break their marriage up. Lexa won main custody as Jenny up and left to another state with the kids spending one weekend at Jenny's house once a month, where they usually have the time of their lives with the fun mom who takes them to do cool stuff Lexa never has the money, energy or time for - and Delilah, who doesn't even remember a time when her moms were together and doesn't understand fully what went down, tends to comment how everything Jenny does for them is so much cooler than Lexa does, down to the cooking.

After going through this, Lexa doesn't really feel like giving love a second try. It was painful the first time around and Clarke is so young she can't imagine her not getting bored of her the same way Jenny did. :c my poor baby

#letter opened #au: milf!lexa #i could ramble for DAYS aboput this au anon thank you so much for putting asks in my inbox for me to do so :'))))))#jenny has a redemption arc at the end but it takes Clarke yelling at her for her to come around

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forgottenyear · 2 years

Text

[tw: rape]

[i am not sure, so please be careful]

I was in a college drawing class. I was also in the art club. I had previously been a member of the campus LGBTQ+ group, having been pressed to join by my friend on campus (she was the faculty advisor to the group), but it became uncomfortable to be the only older person present and I did not appear at all LGBTQ+. I was sure that I made them feel uncomfortable and less safe to express themselves openly, so I found a better fit.

So, I was in the drawing class and the art club (which conveniently met in the same room and the class immediately followed the club). There was a guy roughly my age who was also in both. I do not remember exactly how it came up, but the guy wanted the art club to have a booth (or whatever) in an upcoming sidewalk art show in town, to display student art from the college. It was a good idea, in this form. At some point, he started enthusiastically pushing that we should also have “transexuals and drag queens” as a part of the exhibit. I was creeped out by him for this, but I thought it was only a passing brainstorm, so then I was taken off-guard when the LGBTQ+ group was invited to the next art club meeting, to discuss this guy’s idea. The group wanted to submit art, but this guy kept pushing for them to “dress up” for the event, and he was only incidentally interested in their artistic contributions. He then arranged for the exhibit to take place in a bar, and the majority of the student artists would not be allowed in, but this did not bother the guy. The LGBTQ+ club was entirely excluded, being entirely underage, so the guy decided to look around for suitable substitute “transexuals and drag queens” (he did not change the terminology, even at the request of the LGBTQ+ group). His only motive appeared to have them around as decorative objects.

I cannot describe this man. The description I have, and I already knew it was not him, is the description of the only rapist we saw. The description of the only cis-guy at the party that night, and the guy who was hitting on Angela all night. At least until he was done.

(had to do some grounding)

We stopped going to the art club. Eventually we stopped going to the drawing class. Eventually, we made an appointment with the school therapist. Almost immediately after seeing the school therapist, we dropped all classes and our friend stopped responding to my emails.

Me. My friend. My classes. Yes, we were there, but I need to drop down to just me for a while. I need to be me again.

I intended to write the reason I went to see the school therapist. I thought it was relatively simple.

If I had the energy, but I am still recovering from the migraines, I would probably go on a tirade again. I do not have it in me. One meltdown a day is enough.

It is hard to understand how things that are in my own past are literally mind-numbing. I mean literally literally mind-numbing. I am still surprised. I still do not expect how bad it will be.

I am too tired for this tonight. I need my happy childhood back for tonight. I would rather remember nothing at all.

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motownfiction · 1 year

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friendship

Sometimes, the only person willing to go to the movies with Emma is her niece, Veronica. She says it reminds her of the old days, when she was barely ten years old, and they’d spend Sunday afternoons together. Emma remembers those days fondly, too. She used to point at different editing choices in the movies they watched and ask Veronica to think about what they did for the story. Mom used to tell her to stop (“It’s not bonding if you’re just trying to show her how much you know,” she always said), but Veronica swears up and down that she always liked it. She liked it so much, she wants to keep doing it.

They meet up for a Sunday matinee in late January. Veronica’s been back in school for a few weeks now, and she’s worrying about her algebra test tomorrow. Even though Emma tells her a million times that it will be OK, that algebra won’t make or break her chances of anything in the long run, she’s still shaking like a leaf as they wait in line for popcorn. She’s a junior in high school now, and she’s been thinking even more seriously about college than before. Charlie took her on a walking tour of Princeton last spring, shortly after her sixteenth birthday. She’s never said much about it.

Afterwards, even when they try to talk about the movie over an early dinner, Veronica seems distracted. Emma tries to get her to talk about the music (her favorite part in any movie, which surely she gets from Sam, the uncle Veronica never knew and the man Emma is almost too young to remember), but she’s just not all the way there. She keeps looking off to the side, like in her periphery, she’s going to find the answers to all of algebra. Emma clears her throat. Veronica finally snaps to reality.

“What?” she asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Emma says. “Not with me, anyway. You, though … you seem a little distraught. Is there something we should talk about?”

Veronica shrinks a little in her seat.

“I don’t think so,” Veronica says. “It’s just … you know, math isn’t easy. I don’t know a single person in our whole family who’s any good at it.”

Emma shrugs.

“My mom can add a few numbers in her head,” she says. “But when it comes to subtraction, clear the room. She’ll have a meltdown.”

Veronica laughs, accidentally blowing a few bubbles in her Coke. Emma leans forward in the booth and looks her in the eye. That’ll make a difference.

“Veronica, I don’t know what’s going on with you right now,” Emma says. “But I know it’s not math. This isn’t the attitude somebody has when they’re scared about math.”

And Veronica exhales, like she’s been waiting for somebody to call her on her bullshit.

“I was with my dad the other day,” she says. “And he didn’t really … he didn’t really do anything, except he had ‘Runnin’ down a Dream’ stuck in his head. Tom Petty, you know?”

“I do.”

“And he kept humming the chorus. And I thought … my mom likes that song. Like it consistently makes the cut on her different playlists.”

Emma nods. Her sister Elenore has a few weak spots. Tom Petty has always been one of them. Charlie Doyle, for a time, was another one.

“And then I thought … holy shit, you know?” Veronica says. “This guy … he’s my dad because he had an affair with my mom. And it can’t have meant nothing. Because they like the same songs. He gets her songs stuck in his head! After everything that’s happened, he still remembers the songs she likes. And I just … God, I felt so sorry for my mom. I felt so sorry for everybody.”

She bites down on her straw, and Emma feels that rare pull of her heart going out to somebody. She reaches across the table and squeezes Veronica’s free hand. When Veronica looks at her, she looks so much like Dad. Not her dad. Never.

Veronica looks like Will.

She and Emma have that in common.

The eleven-year age gap has usually been pretty rough. It’s the same age gap between Elenore and Emma, and for a long time, their relationship was just Elenore thinking Emma was cute (and Emma thinking Elenore was a superhero). When Veronica was born, and Emma was eleven, she felt pretty much the same way for a long time. Veronica was cute and precocious. Fun to spend time with, but still just a little kid. But she’s not really a little kid anymore. She’ll be seventeen soon. She’s almost seventeen, and she’s understanding of her weird life, all the nuances that surrounded her birth, her upbring, her everything. She’s taking walking tours of her dream universities and listening to real music, not just whatever they peddle on Radio Disney. And when they go out to lunch after a movie, it’s not just about Emma teaching her how to analyze things anymore. They can really talk.

Like a friendship.

It feels like a victory, even if neither of them really knows why.

#drabble #writeblr #food #ch: emma o'connor #ch: veronica o'connor #year: 2023 #asks #marshalcoded #thank you!

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magentamedicines · 2 years

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What's in the Dark (Pt.2)

-------------------------

"Your brother's such a loser Mike, I'm surprised your dad hasn't returned him yet," It was four days until Evan's birthday, and he was spending it at the diner cowering away from his brother.

Evan hated the diner, he was fairly certain he always had, the animatronics were big and scary and he had nowhere to hide when his brother decided to make him miserable, which was of course, all the time.

This issue was only made worse by the existence of Michael's "friends", Jenny Harper, Owen Maverick, and Trixie Gallagher. No one else in the family liked them, not even social butterfly Elizabeth, they were nothing but a bunch of bullies who really shouldn't have been hanging out with Michael anyway. They were older than he was, which Uncle Henry always said meant that they should know better, but no one was scared enough of Uncle Henry to listen to him.

"I wish he would, and Lizzie too. I'd be better off as an only child." Michael sneered, recounting Evan's meltdown the previous day at being locked in his room.

Evan remembered it vividly too, it wasn't exactly easy to forget when his hands were still bruised from pounding his fists against the door, eyes still bloodshot from tears.

"For someone who doesn't like his siblings it sure seems like thats the only thing you ever talk about," Evan glanced out from under his hiding spot when he heard Charlie's voice, the girl was standing with a scowl on her face and her arms crossed, glasses pushed up on her nose and hair braided into pigtails that fell across either of her shoulders.

Charlotte Emily took after her father in kindness and her mother in wit, she was Lizzie's best friend because they were the same age, but she was the only person who seemed to willingly defend her younger cousin.

"No one asked you four-eyes," Trixie said, adjusting her own fake glasses and turning toward Michael, "Is everyone in your family this intolerable?"

"Charlie's barely family anyway- she's only our cousin because father knew Henry in college." Michael shot back. He didn't have much time to react before a sharp kick was aimed at his shins by the girl, who made her way swiftly over to Evan's hiding spot soon after.

"You ok Ev?" she asked, holding her hand out to help him up, he hesitated for a moment before accepting, but he didn't answer the question.

"Figures you have to have a girl fight for you," Mike, still looking vaguely in pain.

"Keep talking and next time I'll aim for your stomach you big bully." Charlie said, sticking her tongue out and dragging Evan off to where she'd been sitting with Elizabeth.

"Oh c'mon Charlie, no boys allowed! Especially not my stinky crybaby brother." Elizabeth said, glaring up from the mirror she was using to help apply lipstick.

"He's not going to interrupt anything, Mike's the only stinky brother here, that's why Sammy's still allowed in meetings," Charlie said, nodding toward where her brother stood watching the stage.

"Ugh- fine- but he's not allowed to say anything about our plans!" Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes.

"I promise I won't," Evan said quietly, sitting down and placing Fredbear Jr. in his lap.

What felt like days seemed to pass in the diner, Evan was all to aware of the sounds and smells and lights of the performances by the end of the day, were it not for Michael he probably would've fallen asleep in the car from the sheer exhaustion of it all.

"It's not my fault he's such a baby he can't even handle a few jokes," Michael said, arms crossed in the passengers seat.

"If you're going to make jokes make sure Henry's br- your cousins. Can't hear you- do you know how it makes me look when Henry hears he can't even crawl out from under a table without bursting into tears? Are you trying to embarrass me Michael?" William didn't look up from the road as he spoke, hands at either side of the wheel, knuckles white.

"No father. . ." Michael said quietly, staring down at his hands.

Evan fled to his room as soon as the car pulled into the driveway, closing the door behind him before Mike could even step out of the car.

"four days, I'm gonna be seven in four days and then maybe he'll leave me alone. . ." Evan muttered, walking over to his stuffed animals. They always smelled strange these days, but he could never really place the smell. Foxy didn't have a head, Evan had ripped it off himself, he didn't remember when, but he knew it had to have been because of Michael, everything he did was in reaction to his brother at this point.

"Dinner!" Evan flinched at his father's voice, he wished he could grow out of that at some point, but he wasn't really sure he would.

Evan dusted himself off as he stood up and walked toward the door, listening closely for the sound of Michael's footsteps. When he determined the coast was clear he turned the knob to leave, taking cautious footsteps toward the dining room.

He stopped short in front of the television, distracted for a moment by the sounds until. . .

"Boo!" Evan let out a choked scream before falling back on the floor, only able to prop himself up on one elbow, covering his face as tears ran down his cheeks.

Tomorrow is another day. . .

#cori writes #whats in the dark au #evan afton #michael afton #elizabeth afton #william afton #charlie emily #sammy emily #henry emily #tw bullying

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dolugecat · 3 years

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On some Japanese social issues I had learned about at uni and abroad):

(Rb ok!)

Legit had an epiphany about the true hidden meaning of the last arc of Mob Psycho 100. It’s hella projection but for real there is nothing neurotypical about Mob or Mob Psycho. I do not wish to enforce my interpretation on others (ironic bc I do that all the time but this is a serious social theory). There are some interesting and very sad social issues in Japan that the west really doesn’t understand but would I think help people understand a lot of context behind not only Mob Psycho, but also a lot of other anime. I learned this at my shitty university (prestigious but horrific) and while studying abroad in Japan and talking with Japanese peers. Get ready here we go (and tw for bullying and darker things):

Unfortunately in East Asian education systems, bullying can be extremely intense. Growing up I assumed it was over exaggerated extremely in anime for drama but it really can be so horrific. From what I’ve heard, there is often a single kid or so who is just shit on by everyone else, even the teacher. Mogami land *is* the reality of some Japanese kids. I’ve read that in Korea, this social punching bag sometimes is just the darkest skinned person (yayyy colorism /angry) and or someone who does not fit in. I mean, we have that in America too, but maybe not as common for the bullying to be as focused on one misfit rather than several. These kids just can’t escape the stigma too, kids from other schools find out they were a major victim at their old school and it starts anew. Thus there is so much stigma and incentive to join in on bullying so you aren’t the one. Sadly, this also ofc leads to higher suicide rates. That’s where the “shoe on building roof” anime trope comes in, bc somehow taking off shoes is relayed to death (I forgot why sorry)

There is a difference in how intense in general high school vs college is too. In the West, commonly college is the more intense curriculum and is harder than high school, but in Japan it’s usually the opposite. Grind suuuupppeeerrrr hard for entrance exams (huge standardized tests that determines what college you can qualify to) bc unlike the ACT or SAT here, that test is by far the most important factor for college admission. Then chill and relax a bit in college. Can’t relate. Name and prestige is very critical for job application, more important than here. That’s why planning out your future is sooo much more intense for Japanese high schoolers than in America, and why there is sooo much more pressure to excel in high school than here. Japanese school years and holidays are done different than ours, I’d suggest looking it up.

Social prestige of going to an American high school or college is nuts. Like whyyy do you value our shitty education, Japan’s is much higher quality (it’s bc we neo colonized them). Being able to speak English is very, very highly valued and any association with Americans make you cooler. From my experience, some Japanese students got very excited to practice speaking English with us, and their biggest issues with learning it is pronunciation, lmao. Wasai english is unique slang that is indeed English words but it’s kinda different and it’s kinda jarring to remember lol. So, Teru having parents that are working overseas isn’t too uncommon, idk about leaving him absolutely alone, but I did have a ex-friend who just came from Japan in middle school who’s situation probably wasn’t too far off from that. Empty wealth with no love, it’s no wonder those kind of people can end up being huge bullies (minori?)

I did a presentation on 引きこもり(hikikomori) for which means “shut in”, (like Serizawa) and it’s fucked up. It’s a social phenomena where according to some Japanese researchers a mix of undisciplined parenting, guilt/not living up to expectations, and hopelessness makes an alarming amount of youth/ young adults literally never go out side their house/room. Often a parent is “enabling” the behavior by supporting them, but idk the articles seemed a bit victim-blaming to me when I read it, but I don’t think I should make a judgement too hard, not my place. I will say I do suspect and believe I read something to support that ASD might play a role in hikikomoris (there is pitiful resources for autistic people in Asia, much much less support than even here, to the point I don’t think most know it exists). Like come on, with the other points I laid out my personal opinion as an Asian American with autism is that it really seems it’s unknowing ableism against autistic classmates, but I didn’t grow up in Asia so I don’t want to say.

Mental health in general is tragically quite abysmal in Japan, and with it being so hyper competitive and brutal work culture, it’s no surprise birth rate in Japan is so low; some Japanese young adults say it seems unethical to bring a life to such hostile world. Suicide rate is of the highest in the world. It’s fucked, I’ve interacted with some of the locals in Tokyo and they were so nice, but the business men just looked dead inside, it’s so sad.

Relationships between child and parent is also strained bc of this intense work and school culture. Quality time is too scarce when you gotta work so much. And the pressure from parents to do well in education or else you might end up socially stigmatized is rough. Bc your job is who you are, it’s hyper capitalism (thanks us for making them do this)

With autism being so unknown, support for parents in raising autistic kids is almost nonexistent. What happens if the “darker” side of ASD shows up in kids? I used to be a menace when I had meltdowns, I felt so bad but really just became so indiscriminately violent. See where this is going? Legit, I think ESP is a sort of metaphor for neurodivergance to ONE. There is so much stigma around it, and even less way for kids to understand why they are different than the others. My Korean family can’t admit we all got ASD, too much fear and internalized shame.

I got finally diagnosed with ASD as an adult and I’ll tell ya, I relate too much to Mob hurting Ritsu. I felt so bad, but also not in control, I knew what I was doing but not how to stop. Luckily, is was blessed in that my hyperfixations involved science and logic, so I did well at school. Sadly, our boy Mob just don’t got the passion or ability to do well at school. His kanji is very bad, even to point of not being confident he wrote a kanji (世) they learn when they are 9, in elementary school (thanks @katyatalks). Him being a bit berated by his parents for having bad grades and bending spoons seems harsh to Westerners I think, but IMO it’s pretty tame from what I’ve seen of some Asian parents (I get to say that lmao). Ofc, however the shaming is very real and Mob just agreeing with them about how weird and stupid he thinks he is so sad. There is even more pressure for the eldest to be better than here, I feel from some interactions. Nonetheless, it’s implied Mob is quite emotionally detached from his parents, even though he loves them, which also adds to his emotional complex. Combined with originally fragile self esteem and feelings of worthlessness, we got one emotionally stunted boy. However, contrary to common belief people with ASD are sometimes hyper empathic and experience emotions very intensely. We are prone to having “meltdowns” which if not assisted with can be quite violent if very intense. For me, my worse meltdowns as a kid came from when I didn’t understand why I wasn’t getting what I wanted, it seemed selfish and cruel of me but I couldn’t control it. I wanted to be a good kid, so why did hit my moms leg at target when she refused to buy me Pokémon toys? I couldn’t come up with a good reason for why my mind just commanded my body to do bad things, just a single thought was controlling me, I want I want I want I want I want ____. Which I argue could be what ???% represents… bc well…. Yeah….. hmm….. not in control of self (mob unconscious), selfish (not actually, I’ve forgave myself but my “normal” kid self was so ashamed), destructive, hurt family, wanting to stop but can’t, that’s kind of…. Too relatable.

But legit, since realizing my new HC, I’ve started to think of the last chapter of mp100 when I “explode” and it helps me feel better and I do gain “control” a bit easier. I don’t feel so bad anymore either, Mob!

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #my post #mp100 headcanons #welcome to my hc #asd #autism #actually autistic #kageyama shigeo #mob #mp100 meta #Japanese society #japanese culture #meta #mp100 analysis

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h0neypjm · 3 years

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Confident 02 | jjk

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 8.8k

↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part

↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3

↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Previously...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”

Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”

Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”

“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”

The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.

“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”

Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”

Confusion.

“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”

Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”

That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”

It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”

Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”

Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”

Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”

Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.

Jungkook wants to see you again.

Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation.

It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.

And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.

He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea.

Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?

Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.

Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.

Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks.

Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.

His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.

Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout.

It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave.

You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.

The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter.

“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.

The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off.

You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.

“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.

“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex?

You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.

You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.

“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.

“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-”

You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”

Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy.

“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.”

Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away.

“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.”

You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.

It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug.

Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.”

The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”

She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.

Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.

Holy shit

The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully.

Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it.

It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it.

Jungkook does not mind this change one bit.

So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.

“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?”

��Oh you know… You and Jungkook”

You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing”

“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”

“Wait, really?”

Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.

“Really.”

You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.

However, it seems to be quite the opposite.

Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.

Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.”

“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.”

Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”

Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope.

The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship.

You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears.

You open your mouth to speak, “So-”

“I-”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward.

“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath.

“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”

You're stunned. “Huh?”

“You know… That Friday night?”

Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man.

With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”

“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”

You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”

You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.

“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.

You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”

Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.

“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?”

You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.

You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face.

“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”

You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”

You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes.

It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.

Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing.

On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.

You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”

Jungkook cracks.

Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.

You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye.

“You little shit-”

All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.

Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano.

You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.

Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.

You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water.

Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.

Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.

Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people.

Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide.

You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough.

You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling.

You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.

Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.

Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.

At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”

He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls.

You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.

Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.

Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.

Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.

Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”

Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”

Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.

“Oh, I said thank you.”

You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.

Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light.

He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.

You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.”

His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”

Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws.

“I'm sorry.”

He says it genuinely.

Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.

You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”

“Right.” He’s messed up.

You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”

Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”

You exhale, “yeah.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot.

No, it can’t be.

The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.

Jeong Suho.

His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.

The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”

Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.

On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.

You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.

You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-

“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”

Fuck.

Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.

Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace.

“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”

Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.

“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”

You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation.

“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.

Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.

“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.

“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.

It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then.

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.

“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.

The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.

Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”

Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick.

Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”

You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.

A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.

Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate.

Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman.

The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives.

Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.

It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.

The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.

Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately.

“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”

Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”

“Well you never asked!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now.

You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.

Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.

Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes.

“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?”

Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving.

Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.

The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket.

Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.

The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”

Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in.

The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.

Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes.

“How did you find this place?”

You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”

You hum, “it’s beautiful.”

Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.

“I hate him.”

Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”

“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”

Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”

You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.

“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”

You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.”

Inhale, exhale.

“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”

Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.

“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”

You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”

Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”

You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”

He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”

You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”

“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs.

“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”

“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”

You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”

You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.

Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”

Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness.

“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.

“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.

“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”

Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”

He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”

You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.

The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.

The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.

With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds.

He feels infinite.

Taglist <3

@zibermuda @uskookie @jeonscandies @melaninkpops @apollukee @hollowtree10 @liliskies @madygswich @pjmochii @eggbutnotyolk @gyukult @yukiehyukie @purplepearl07 (couldn’t tag) @tae165 @youurkryptonite @94ser0da @french-myfries @zippytheshark37 (couldn’t tag) @we8joon @tearvantae @emrysts @inspinkyring

#ficswithluv #h0neypjm #mine #jungkook #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook smut #bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jimin #taehyung #hoseok #seokjin #yoongi #namjoon

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing xiii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 635

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello friends!!! here is the next update :D i hope you enjoy the read! it's been a v long week for me so it's nice to just unwind hehe. thank you for the support & love you all!!!!

“Are you going to just … stare at me?” Jungkook clears his throat as his eyes dart anywhere but forward. It was less uncomfortable that way.

The two people in front of him don’t flatter him with an immediate response, instead; they stare him down harder until Jungkook can quite literally feel the stare of their eyes burning a hole into his forehead. He nearly shrinks into his seat, but he manages to pull a somewhat neutral expression even if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

“Maybe.” Jimin retorts snappishly.

Jungkook knew Jimin would be the pettier one between the two, but again; it’s not unwarranted. So he sucks it up like a big boy and nods his head slowly in understanding.

However, Taehyung was a different situation. His blank face was already intimidating as it is and Jungkook’s known him ever since the two of them were in middle school. More often than not people mistook him for cold and disinterested, whereas he usually just got lost in his thoughts.

But it’s obvious when Taehyung doesn’t like someone. He doesn’t put up a front to pretend that things are dandy and that he vibes with you. No, Taehyung’s blank face returns and it’s tenfold. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t just that, that resulted in the permanent vacant expression etched onto his expression—it’s paired with the fact that Jungkook’s an idiot and this is his punishment.

Jungkook knows better that Taehyung isn’t the type to take things head-on (like Jimin), but rather allow people to ruminate in their thoughts as he stares you down with a gaze so intense that it feels like he’s unpacking every single stray thought that passes by your mind. Jungkook is aware, but he’s never had to be on the receiving end of it.

“Are we going to, uh, order?” Jungkook asks, hands gripping the menu tightly.

Taehyung still stares, and Jimin narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

“You know ____ hasn’t arrived yet, right?” His tone is accusatory and Jungkook feels himself pale.

“I didn’t mean—okay,” He sighs in defeat, “We’ll wait.”

Jimin eyes him carefully before opting to skim through the menu. Jungkook knows it’s a front to not have to engage with him since they’ve frequented the same diner more than enough times for the waiters and waitresses to know their orders by heart. It’s been a while since they came here, and Jungkook knows that he’s partly to blame.

It sucks, sitting here in silence when he remembers that the three of them, you aside—used to engage in stupid banter and talked about the most random things like college boys do. They were his best friends, Jungkook grew up with them and he distinctly remembers always getting into trouble with the two boys until their parents only sighed every time they saw them returning home with guilty expressions ridden on their faces.

Now the banter is replaced with tense silence, but it doesn’t feel like it’s over. Jungkook hopes, at least.

Before Jungkook can say something else, he feels someone slip into the empty seat next to him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Your voice is sweet and cheerful, and it’s nice to hear you like this again.

Jungkook looks up and sees you smiling at everyone, oblivious to the strained mood of the table before you came.

“Don’t apologise,” Taehyung says for the first time, offering you a small smile, “We were waiting for you, weren’t we?”

Jungkook stiffens, fully aware that it was directed to him. He wanted to lamely interject and say that it wasn’t what he meant, but he knew that Jimi would give him more shit for that anyway.

“You didn’t have to!” You exclaim.

Jungkook feels somewhat satisfied at the scowl that plagues Jimin’s expression, but it’s quickly covered with a beaming smile in your direction as he calls over a waiter.

“We know our orders, right?” Jimin asks.

You nod, smiling brightly; clearly excited to be here again.

And Jungkook feels nice, too. It’s nice being here, with the three of you—even if Jimin and Taehyung were still giving him the cold shoulder it was much better than pretending like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

“It’s nice to be back,” You smile to yourself after the four of you order, and Jungkook can only agree.

Maybe it wasn’t so nice, after all.

Because the entire time, Jimin and Taehyung were dead-set on making Jungkook feel the guilt of his actions tenfold when they pick apart at every word he offers into the conversation.

“Have we not been here for that long? Even the interiors changed a little.”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Who’s fault is that?” Jimin says off-handedly, unbothered to even cast him a glance.

“Wait, really? There’s a forum coming up?”

“Didn’t we all know? _____ is the one who organised it.” Surprisingly, this came from Taehyung.

“I’m stuffed.”

“With bullshit—?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Your voice is loud enough to silence the entire table and even causes a few other patrons to turn their heads in the direction of your table.

Jimin is blinking at you with wide eyes, as Taehyung only gapes at the decibel of your voice that he’s never heard from you before. Jungkook only presses himself against his seat, and subtly inches away from you.

But you turn your head towards him and shoot him a glare so venomous that he stiffens in position.

“Don’t you dare shift away from me, Jeon.” You warn threateningly.

Jungkook swallows, too stunned to move.

Then, you turn to face the two unblinking men.

“And you two,” You narrow your eyes at them menacingly, “I told you that I’d deal with this on my own so why are you the ones holding grudges?”

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Taehyung is nudging him with his elbows to shut up.

“I expected better from you!” You cry, “What are you guys, five? Or is that how many brain cells you have combined?” You scowl. They’re still blinking at you when you continue to fume. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s less than that because at the rate you’re acting I’m beginning to think that this fork better conversational skills than the three of you.” You hold up your utensil for good measure and the boys can only blink at you.

The last part is directed to everyone, and Jungkook can only listen to you rant as he presses himself against his seat.

“I just wanted to hang out like usual.” You flutter your eyes shut in annoyance, “I asked for one day—one day!” You exclaim, “Just to be with you guys because we haven’t done that in forever. And you couldn’t push aside whatever hostility you have towards Jungkook for this?”

You sound so disappointed, and your voice subdues out into a whisper when you glance at the table. Jimin and Taehyung had the decency to look guilty and apologetic when they realise that you were actually serious about it. Because rarely have you ever blown up, if not—ever.

“_____, we’re sorry—” Jimin begins.

“Are you?” You snap irritatedly, “I told you that I didn’t want to make things complicated and here you guys are—doing exactly that. I resolved whatever I had to with Jungkook, and let’s not pretend like he was the only one at fault here. The two of you are opening a closed book and it’s unnecessary. I just wanted to hang out with you guys and laugh about our balding lecturers, is that so much to ask for?”

“I think—” Jungkook begins, feeling slightly more confident to speak up after you’ve somewhat defended him, but the way you snap your head to him to send him a blazing look shut him up immediately.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook either,” You seethe, “Jimin and Taehyung have every right to be mad but they don’t have the right to ruin the atmosphere of our hangout right now. That doesn’t change the fact that you messed up.”

Your words are sharp, and his eyes widen when you scold him. It oddly feels like the three men were being lectured by a parent, and it’s not far off because you’ve always been the level headed one amongst the four of you anyway.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Jimin offers apologetically, but your ears are flushed for obvious reasons before you mutter an excuse to head to the bathroom.

When you storm off, the three men stare at each other unblinking for a few seconds before Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Listen,” He sighs, “Clearly, Jimin and I are pissed.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches, that’s an understatement.

“But, we have a right to be—like she said,” Taehyung continues. Jungkook doesn’t argue there, “But we care about her as much as you do, and we don’t want her to feel any more disappointed than what she had to feel for the past month. So we’ll drop it.”

“Why are you speaking on behalf of the both of you because I’m pretty sure hyung is staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, off-put by Jimin’s unwavering glare.

“He’s not far off.” Jimin retorts, then he sighs, relaxing his features ever so slightly to look at Jungkook with an expression much softer than what he’s received so far. “I’m disappointed in you, and I probably will be for a very long time. But … you’re still my best friend, and even if I feel like knocking you into every available surface I’m willing to push that desire aside if it means we can make ____ happy.”

Jungkook blinks.

“I …” He croaks, “I’m sorry, to the both of you. I messed up and … I really regret it.”

Taehyung offers a small smile, “You don’t have to apologise to us. It’s ___—”

“Yeah, I know.” He clears his throat. “But the two of you are my friends too and you’ve done nothing but guide me even if I acted like it annoyed me most of the times; I really appreciated the things you told me, even if I blatantly went against it.”

Jimin purses his lips, staring hard at the boy.

“I want us to be okay too, as much as I patched things up with her; you guys are my best friends as well,” Jungkook says softly.

“If ____ forgives you then …” Jimin mutters, though Jungkook can tell it comes from a good place. “I guess I can work with that.”

It’s something, Jungkook thinks.

But then you’re still not back and the three men look at each other in worry.

“I’ll go get her,” Jungkook declares, but before he can push himself up—Taehyung is stopping him with a hand and a cock of his head.

“I’ll do it.”

And when he leaves to get you, Jungkook and Jimin are left in a mini stare off, the awkward atmosphere still tense enough. Not until Jimin gestures to his face.

“Your cheek …”

Jungkook sighs.

“You know there are people who need to pee too, right?” Taehyung hums outside the cubicle. He’s sure you’re in there because he spots your sneakers through the slit, and he’s lucky enough he can because he wasn’t sure how else he’d explain him leaning outside a stall while he talks to it.

You stay silent, dabbing at your eyes with the tissue you brought in. You feel a little stupid for crying about it but you hated the atmosphere out there. It was weird and awkward and the four of you never had moments like that. You always had things to talk about or even just to laugh at each other. The silence and glares were suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault.

“I’m going to piss on the floor if you don’t open the door.” Taehyung threatens in a bored tone.

You sniff, loud enough for him to hear as you roll your eyes at his ultimatum.

“Don’t think I won’t do it, _____.” He warns, and you hear fabric rustling that has your eyes widening.

“Don’t pee on the damn floor!” You hiss.

“Then open the door.” Taehyung retorts smartly.

You scowl, glancing into the mirror one last time to ensure that your eyes weren’t as red as you hoped they to be. It comes to no avail because your eyes are puffy enough to tell him that you’ve been crying, and you knew that you couldn’t lie your way through it.

“I’m giving you five more seconds,” He calls, “Five … four … three … two—I’m about to piss—!”

You unlock the door and pull it open, and greet Taehyung with a vehement glare of your own as he smiles down at you, but only for a bit until he notices the puffiness of your eyes and the pout of your lips.

“You know it’s kind of depressing if you lock yourself up in the cubicle of a diner to cry.” He says softly, arms reaching out to bring you into an embrace.

You don’t fight him, even if you don’t make an effort to hug him back. You were sulking.

“Well that’s what happens when your best friends are acting like assholes.” You snap back in a sniffle.

He sighs, patting your head gently as he forces your arm around his waist; shooting you a stern glare that you roll your eyes at.

“You know we’re looking out for you.” He chides gently, and you feel very much like a petulant child when you huff at his response.

“I just wanted to hang out with you guys without things being weird.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know.” He hums.

“But you had to make it weird.” You complain. “What are you? A social justice warrior? I told you I could deal with it on my own.”

Taehyung chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter as you scowl into his shirt. You knew you were being a little dramatic but you didn’t want the dynamics of the group to shift just because of the situation you got yourself in with Jungkook. Even if you were in love with him and he was … in love with you. Your friendship with the three of them meant the absolute world to you.

“I’m sorry,” He apologises, pulling away slightly to look at you with sincere eyes.

You look away and sulk.

He sighs, knowing that it would be much harder to get you to feel better than just an apology.

“Look, I’ll lay it off and I’ll make sure Jimin doesn’t overstep either. Promise.” He offers with a smile.

You look at him with tentative eyes as you raise a brow at him.

“Isn’t Jimin with Kook right now?”

Taehyung opens his mouths, then closes, before he wraps an arm around your shoulder to tug you closer into his grasp.

“After this. I make no promises that Jimin hasn’t caused bodily harm on Jungkook in the meantime.” He says.

You snort, picturing Jungkook cowering or at least avoiding Jimin’s eyes now that they were alone. You knew that the bruise on Jungkook’s cheek was Jimin’s doing, and while you already talked his ear off for that, you appreciated the gesture. Even if it did look like it hurt like a bitch.

“I just want things to go back to normal.” You mumble, fiddling with your thumbs.

Taehyung nods his head and sighs.

“It will. We’re okay. You’re okay. We’ll be okay.” He comforts you with a soothing tone.

You nibble on your lips, “I guess …”

Taehyung stops in his tracks as he was about to bring you back out when you mumble those words so softly he nearly misses them.

“You guess …? Is there something—?”

“I just,” You sigh, “Jungkook and I spoke and we … cleared things up. But it’s still … it still sucks.” You finish lamely.

Taehyung gives you a sad smile before turning you around so that he can grab onto your shoulders.

“What he said doesn’t define you. And I know for a fact that he’s beating himself up over it. It sucks because he’s your best friend and he was the one that said those things to you. But none of that is true because you’re the most interesting, smart and best girl I know.” He smiles at you, even when you flush and look away.

“Stop …” You whine, avoiding his gaze and you hear him chuckle.

“Jungkook’s dumb. He’s our friend, but he’s dumb.” Taehyung snickers.

You roll your eyes but a smile teases the corner of your lips.

“It’s not just that …” You mumble softly, pink dusting your cheeks. “I told him that I was in love with him.”

At this, Taehyung quite literally chokes on his breath.

“You—what?!”

You scowl, “God, you don’t have to be so loud.” You thwack his chest and even as he winces he still has a stupefied expression on his face.

“You … love … what?” He blinks, “What the hell did I miss? Does anyone else know? When did this happen?”

You huff, “Look, that isn’t … important. Not now, at least. I told him that I needed time to sort things out myself and … yeah.” You murmur softly.

You know Taehyung wants to press further, but he doesn’t do that because your demeanour says to drop it. He sighs, pulling you into his embrace once more before he gives you an easy smile.

“Take all the time you need, okay?” He reassures you softly, and somehow it does feel a little better.

“Were the extra ten laps really necessary?” Jungkook pants, hands falling onto his knees just as he completes the last God forsaken round.

“I don’t know. Were they?” Namjoon hums, opting to skim over Jungkook’s hunched figure with a shrug.

“You’re holding a grudge on me,” Jungkook says in a tone of disbelief.

Namjoon shoots the younger boy an unimpressed look.

“Am I?” He returns, and Jungkook already feels the incoming headache approaching.

“Look, I get Jimin and Tae because the two would literally die for her … but you?” Jungkook exasperates.

Namjoon sighs, clicking the pen in his grasp before shoving it into his back pockets. By no means was Namjoon unnecessarily intimidating, because besides the fact that he towered over most people and frequented the gym as his second home; he was a decent guy and great company.

That, and he never imposed his authority as the captain of the football team onto any of the footballers, or his peers, which made him all the more approachable and likeable. Jungkook had nothing against him, but after finding out that he too had feelings for you; he’s bound to view the older boy differently.

“Jungkook, I already told you—you’re my friend and I like you.” He deadpans, “But you’re also an idiot so you’ll pay for being one. It’s really that simple.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “And this has nothing to do with your feelings for her?”

Namjoon snorts, waving him off as the rest of the footballers come pooling out of the changing rooms.

“I think you’re projecting a little,” He snickers and ignores the look of disbelief that covers Jungkook’s face when the footballers start gathering around the two.

“He made you run an extra lap?” Jimin snickers.

Namjoon hears this and smiles, “Ten.” He corrects.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle before patting his sullen-looking younger friend on the back while he scowls. Jungkook couldn’t say anything because he’s aware enough to know that his mouth was the one thing that got him into most of the trouble he’s ever got himself into. So he swallows his pride and wipes his sweat, even pretends to smile tightly at Jeonghan when he asks why.

The practice is brutal, well; for Jungkook at least.

Jungkook knew that Namjoon was a strict but reasonable person by nature; and to a certain extent, petty. The only reason he knew was because of his feelings for you and that irked him. But he didn’t know how far Namjoon was willing to go just to prove a point, to you or to Jungkook; he wasn’t quite sure.

But Jungkook’s pride gets the better of him when he waves off concerned stares from the rest of his members. Even Jimin looked mildly worried when Jungkook was required to do an extra circuit or two just because his form looked ‘off’.

Jungkook’s form hadn’t looked off since high school.

And that’s how you find him, splayed out on the ground as he pants for air and stares up at the sky as if he was waiting for God to pick him up.

“Why are you on the ground?” He hears you before he sees you.

And when he opens his eyes, it’s like he’s seeing an angel. He’s half-convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven because your confused face is peering down at him from above.

“I think I’m dead.” He wheezes.

You roll your eyes, immediately squatting next to him before you shuffle through your bag to take something out.

Jungkook can’t even be bothered to ask what it was, but only when you press the object against his forehead and he feels the cool touch of a cold bottle; he ironically melts into the feeling.

“Here.” You thrust the bottle to him.

“God I lo—” Jungkook’s out of it, but not that out of it to let it slip.

You seem to notice, and your ears flush at the near slip-up. Jungkook clears his throat before attempting to sit up, head spinning at the suddenness of his actions.

“Thank you,” He rectifies his mistake immediately, offering you a meek smile.

The sheepish smile you return him with is enough. And he misses you even if you’re right in front of him; because things had been off for so long and having you back … even if you weren’t his, felt better than ever.

But Jungkook’s never pined for anyone else besides you, and it’s tiring. Yet, when you smile at him it feels like it’s worth it.

“Are you checking up on the corpse?” A voice interrupts Jungkook’s dazed expression when he stares at you for a second too long.

He turns his head and sees the cause of the numbness in his legs.

Namjoon is all smiles when he jogs over, Jimin and Taehyung following closely behind as they snicker at the interaction.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.” You pout up at the taller man, standing up as you only reach the height of his shoulders. It would’ve been cute to Jungkook if Namjoon didn’t look so taken with you.

“Someone’s gotta take care of things for you,” He jokes, ruffling your hair.

Things have been going better enough for people to poke fun at Jungkook, and even if he flushes at any mention of what happened—he knows that he’s got to deal with the consequences.

He didn’t know that the extra touchiness from Namjoon’s end was one of them.

“Never thought I’d see the day the great Jeon fall.” Jimin snorts.

You raise an eyebrow.

“What?” He shrugs, “He’s always telling us hyungs that he could one-up all of us with his eyes closed.”

Taehyung nods while Namjoon only chuckles at the statement.

“Not saying that you deserve it but you deserve it, man.” Taehyung laments.

Jungkook scowls from where he sits on the grass, but you’re nice as always when you reach a hand out for him to grab.

He stares at it, struck again by your kindness. And when he looks up the evening sunset flares behind you and you looked like a painting in a museum.

“Wow.” Jungkook blurts.

He didn’t mean to, and everyone caught on his stupefied expression.

“All right,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, tugging Jungkook up himself as the younger boy scowls at the moment being ruined. “Up, loverboy.”

You huff, turning on your heels to hide the way your cheeks had turned red when you noticed Jungkook’s gaze lingering longer than it should.

Taehyung and Jimin shoot each other a look, one that goes missing from you and the two other men. In fact, Jungkook shoots Namjoon a glare that he blissfully ignores in spite of trailing behind you, taking advantage of the fact that Jungkook’s legs are too wobbly to catch up.

“What the—?”

“Hurry up, Jeon. Yena’s waiting and you know how she gets when people are late!” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, before offering you a dimpled grin and grabbing your bag to alleviate the strain on your shoulder.

Jungkook knows that things are better and he’s damn grateful he’s able to be around you without watching over his words anymore. But the childish and immature side of him turns green when he sees the shy smile you return Namjoon.

He knows, that you feel the same way. But somehow his mind overthinks it and asks: what if?

“You look constipated,” Taehyung mumbles off-handedly, clasping a hand to his back when Jungkook stays rooted in position.

“Deserved,” Jimin says.

Jungkook scowls, dejectedly following close by as the five of you walk out of the field.

“That was absolutely uncomfortable.” Yena declares the moment she steps foot into your apartment.

You scowl.

“It wasn’t that bad …” You mumble.

Yena flops herself onto your couch and raises an eyebrow as if to say really.

“Listen I know you and Jeon exchanged vows and a dowry the other day but Namjoon is definitely a close contender. I swear I saw him whipping out a pen mid-meal to write you a love poem.”

You groan, flopping face forward as you stuff your scream into your cushion.

“Why me?” You cry.

You can feel Yena rolling her eyes behind you.

“Oh boo-hoo, your life is so hard. Two hot beefy men are in love with you, wow—things must be so difficult. Would you like a free pass in a therapy session?” She mocks pouts at you when you lift your head to glare up at her.

“They are not …” You remember what Jungkook said and you clear your throat, “… Namjoon isn’t …”

Yena scoffs.

“Well he’s definitely breaking ten different traffic laws to get there.” She retorts.

You slump back into your couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I thought things would get better.”

Yena shuffles until she’s settled comfortably next to you, “Are things … not?” She asks carefully.

You sigh, fiddling with the edge of your cushion.

“They are, don’t get me wrong.” You say softly, “It’s just that … I know Joon has feelings for me, and I know … I mean Jungkook is Jungkook,” You explain lamely and Yena awaits your continuation patiently. “I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure they’re both aware of their feelings, and Jimin and Taehyung are just the bystanders witnessing shit hit the fan. And I’m … well, I’m there.”

“You mean you’re the main character.” She interjects.

You scowl, chucking the cushion at her as she dodges with a cackle.

“Things are better but they’re still weird.” You mumble.

Yena sighs, nodding understandingly as she pats your head softly.

“But you said you needed time, right? To figure things out on your own?” She asks.

You nod your head.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “I do. I mean, I know what I feel and I’ve felt this way for a long time. The only person I’ve ever … loved … is Jungkook. But I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of proximity and familiarity or because he was the only person that I’ve ever … you know.” You gesture your hands ambiguously but Yena gets the point.

“I understand.” She nods, “But things won’t be easy, not at first at least. It’s weird, I know. Going from your best friend to a potential lover, a stranger to a man who’s willing to put his star quarterback on the line and two best friends who are well—they’ve always been overbearing but they’re there.” She ends with a roll of her eyes.

Your face crumbles, “Why are things so complicated?” You cry, leaning onto her shoulder as she sighs and rubs a finger over your shoulder.

“You’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe anyone anything, remember that okay?” She hums softly.

“Just because you stare at them long enough doesn’t mean you suddenly get telepathic abilities.” Jimin snorts.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Jungkook’s stepped into the library, courtesy of Jimin who wanted to study for an upcoming test with him. It’s a step towards mending their friendship, and Jungkook is immensely grateful; so he didn’t think twice before responding to Jimin that he’d be their stat.

But he remembers that Jimin is cunning, not maliciously, but very impertinently. He was smart and sly all at once, and while he didn’t explicitly state anything—the timing seemed all too perfect for it to be purely a coincidence.

“Not staring,” Jungkook mutters.

Yet, his eyes remain trained on your figure.

Jungkook’s always had issues with envy, ever since he was younger. If someone made the cut before he did, he’d internally curse them out in his head and work ten times as hard out of spite. It’s somewhat toxic, but it allowed him to outdo himself every single time he felt that familiar green eyes emotion. He’s also no stranger to jealousy, and he’s remembered feeling the very same feeling he’s feeling now multiple times throughout his life, all for similar reasons.

You.

It wasn’t just because you were great at everything you did, excelling in your academics and extra-curricular, making students and superiors around you impressed with your work ethic. You were never ordinary; in fact, all you did in your life was outdo yourself in every single aspect and Jungkook always admired and envied that. It always made him feel like you were in two different worlds, where Jungkook had to work twice as hard compared to anyone else to achieve peak efficiency while you seemed to breeze by the things that you did.

Even when the two of you were in high school, he’d always fantasise what it would be like to be with you, to kiss you and to hold your hand or call you his. But he’s never thought you’d ever see him that way because all you’ve ever alluded to was him being nothing but a friend, a younger boy who had the stars in his eyes. If only you knew that it was a reflection of your face.

And the feeling is all too familiar, even when he first came to college and remembered seeing you interact with different guys that all seemed like they were taken with you. How could they not be? You were soft, sweet, kind and understanding—never the type to impose yourself or make others feel uncomfortable. You were a perfect combination of soft and relentless, the mixture of your best qualities and it seemed like Jungkook wasn’t the only person who saw that.

And he knew, he knew that you’d never lie to him, explicitly at least, or about things that mattered. So he doesn’t count your feelings, but it’s frustrating to have you right there but not at all. Especially when he recognises the look on Namjoon’s face intimately when he looks at you, bodies pressed adjacently in a booth in the library.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Jungkook scowls.

Jimin blinks innocently at his friend before a cheeky smile appears on his face, his hands pausing in between the sheets of his textbook.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigns innocence.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, further slumping in his chair before he forces himself to tear his wandering eyes away from you.

“What a way to rekindle a friendship …” He mutters dryly.

Jimin stares at Jungkook pointedly, “Hey, the library is open to all students. Don’t go pointing fingers at me.”

“Jimin, I literally suggested we head to an overnight cafe and you said if I wanted to fix us then I had to listen to you,” Jungkook says dryly, “And I quote—or else.”

“Okay, maybe I may have been projecting a little—”

“Jimin …” He groans.

“But look, it’s not the end of the world so don’t go ahead and get your panties in a twist, all right?” Jimin snorts, “Just 'cause she’s over there with Mr Beefy doesn’t mean you’re out of the race. Let’s just say you’re sporting a broken foot.”

Jungkook only responds with a bland look.

“That doesn’t—”

“—and a dislocated knee. Maybe a torn hamstring?” Jimin ponders like the details actually mattered. “Yeah, a pulled hamstring. A torn ACL too for a kick. And you know who’s fault all of that was?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yes, Jimin, I know. It’s me—”

“No. It’s me. Because I’m planning on dragging this out as far as I can even if you and she made amends. You fucked with someone I cared about and this is how I hold you accountable. I’m going to draw out every lone interaction she shares with Joon and make you watch it like the porn you consume in an unhealthy amount. I’ll make it so that all you’ll see when you close your eyes is the way hyung looks at her and how you can’t do anything but watch.”

Jimin says all of that in one go and with an unblinking stare. If Jimin was looking for a reaction, he definitely got one because Jungkook is gawking at him with a disturbed expression at how utterly menacing he looks.

“You’re fucking terrifying,” He exhales.

“And you’re a little shit,” Jimin returns with a huff. His eyes dart behind Jungkook for a second before his smile is expression is replaced with an evil grin, “Oh, look at that. He’s brushing her hair back—how cute.” He coos.

Jungkook groans, sinking into his chair when Jimin snickers.

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peachesofteaches · 3 years

Note

Queen Peaches 🍑 would you bless us with a blurb. Like maybe y/n is studying for uni and it’s taking up a lot of her time so Damon gets all needy and sad but when he shows up she’s having a meltdown bc she’s so stressed and he just babies the fuck out of her and maybe a soft blowjob.

HERE YOU GOO! So cute v fluff. Enjoy

Word count: 2,604 (18+ filth)

Damon stood in the living room of his girlfriend's childhood home, politely dismissing her grandmother to make his way upstairs to her bedroom. The old stairs creak beneath him as he nears her door. It reminds him of when she still lived here before she went to college. He was always intrigued with her, coming to check on her in the middle of the night or press his ear against the wood to listen to her, Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena during a sleepover.

With the end of term approaching, Y/N chose to come home to study. Damon remembers her mentioning how she wanted to spend more time with her grandmother so he didn’t bother trying to coax her into staying at his place. Usually, she comes over for sleepovers almost nightly, but recently she’s been studying in her room, isolating herself from her friends and her boyfriend.

It’s not by choice- he knows. Yet, this is how she handles stress, as unhealthy as it is. He misses her though. Misses the sound of her laugh and her smell surrounding him. The pitter-patter of her feet in the boarding house. Finding locks of her hair everywhere. She hasn’t texted him back all day, or anybody for that matter, and after a long talk with Bonnie about how Y/N stresses herself to the point where she gets sick, he decided to intervene before things got bad.

He hasn’t been up to her old bedroom in years but when he opens her door, it all comes rushing back in an instant. The walls of her room are still painted a faint yellow and fairy lights are strung up across the wall, casting a warm glow across the room. Posters decorated her walls along with an assortment of framed photographs that had gathered dust over the years. Her bedspread was still white, holding a pile of pastel stuffed animals that all stared at him as he walked in the room. His eyes fell on his girlfriend who sat at the white desk facing the window, headphones over her ears, aggressively typing on her computer.

Cold coffee mugs cluttered up the corners of her desk along with assorted pens and pencils and could hear the quiet thrumming of Deftones playing through her headphones. Not wanting to startle her, he picked up a build-a-bear off her bed and threw it against the legs of her chair. Her shoulders tensed before she turned around with a furrowed brow, softening when she saw Damon standing by her window.

She pulled the headphones off her ears, laying them against the keyboard of her laptop. “What did Peach ever do to you?” She said, leaning over to pick up the pink plush bear and hold it against her chest.

Damon smirked and walked over to her, bending down on his knees to kiss her deeply, fingers tangling in her hair. He could feel her body relaxing into the kiss and her hold on the bear loosened until it laid in her lap, staring at Damon with beady, plastic, eyes.

When they pulled apart Y/N’s hand went to her lips, feeling the tingling sensation that arose. “Hey.” She greeted, her cheeks turning a pink tint that blended in with the glow of the fairy lights across her walls.

“Hey.” He responded, bringing his hands to rest on her knees where he squeezed assuringly. “How’s the studying going?” He peered over to the computer, finding a written essay on a google doc. The side of the document was heavy with comments and edits made at different points during the day.

She sighs, glancing at her laptop. “I finished my research paper. I’m just trying to edit it now.”

“You finished everything else though?”

She nods quietly, blinking at the words on the screen. He draws her eyes back to him by swiveling her desk chair back and forth. “What's wrong, cutie?” He juts out his lower lip when he finds tears glistening behind her eyes.

She shakily raises a hand and swipes at her eyes before the tears fall. “I’m just mad. At myself. Nothing sounds good and I used the word ‘and’ too much. It sounds stupid.”

“How long have you been working on this?”

“Seven hours.” His mouth falls open at her answer. He doesn't know why he’s surprised. Her eyes are squinting and she’s worked a wrinkle between her eyebrows from staring at the computer so intensely. He wishes she would wear her glasses while she was working, but she’s always losing them and never wants to wear them. Her lip quivers as she snaps shut the lid of the laptop. “It’s awful.”

Tears fall from her eyes, marking up her doll-like cheeks in wet trails.

“Awh, baby.” He draws her in for a hug, wrapping his arms around her torso when her head falls to his shoulder. Her shoulders quiver with the oncoming sniffles and tears that prick at the cotton of his shirt. “Shh, shh. You’re under a lot of pressure right now and you’re probably really tired. Hmm?”

She doesn't answer, just cries into his shoulder letting the weight of the stress she’s holding melt onto her boyfriend. He holds her steadily, slightly rocking them side to side as she works to calm herself down.

“Listen,” he said, taking her face into his hands. “Let’s get you cleaned up and take a little nap. I’ll wake you up in an hour so you can get back to work, ok?”

“No-” She protests before Damon holds up a finger, hushing her retort.

“Ah-Ah. How about tomorrow we can go bother old Stefan and get him to read your paper before you turn it in? He’s always been better at that kind of stuff than I am. Then after we can go see a movie, or do whatever you want.”

It takes her a minute before she nods with her cheeks squished between his palms, letting her body fall forward when he brings her close for a kiss. “C’mon, now,” Damon says, gently pulling her to her feet by her elbow and wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as they shuffle into the bathroom.

Under the harsh white light of her bathroom, Damon can see the purple shade underneath her normally bright eyes. Her face looks so dejected and exhausted that it makes his chest twinge with an ache to hold her. They share soft words as Damon hands her a damp washcloth to wipe her tear-stained cheeks with. He combs through her hair with a brush, sighing at the silkiness of her locks. Y/N’s eyes melt closed as he brushes, the soft bristles against her scalp soothing her.

Damon’s got her into a pair of panties and one of his old shirts, which has been hiding in one of her drawers for the past two years. He knows she finds comfort in wearing his clothing, similar to how he finds comfort in smelling hers.

He tugs the hem of the shirt down to her thighs, smiling slightly when she leans into him for support. He strokes her back reassuringly, pecking the fleshy part of her cheek. “Have you eaten anything today?”

She shakes her head against his chest and Damon frowns because if she hasn’t eaten anything today he doubts she’s eaten the other days it’s been like this. “I can’t eat right now… too anxious.” She says, her voice muffled in his chest.

Damon sighs, peeling back the top corner of her white comforter and situating her beneath it. “Then I’ll make you something when you wake up. Deal?”

“Mmm.” She mumbles, stretching out her arms to Damon. “Cuddle with me?”

After kicking off his boots, Damon slips into the bed beside her, instantly bringing her body to his chest. She nestles her nose against the warmth of his throat, her breath soft as she exhales against the skin. They sit in silence for a while, soaking up the warmth of one another. With all the stress of dead week, Y/N has hardly had time to share with Damon. It makes her feel like a terrible girlfriend.

She’s been shut in her room, pouring over term papers and projects, giving them her all, and exhausting herself to the bone. She just wants to do well. Wants to be proud of herself. The thought of school has her tensing again and her ever-so-aware boyfriend notices, beginning to massage between her shoulder blades.

“Just relax, baby. I got you.” He assures her, dropping sweet kisses onto her hairline. His body feels so warm and sturdy beneath her that it spreads an all-too-familiar feeling throughout her body. His hands are rubbing gentle patterns into her skin as arousal grows in her abdomen. She shuffles a bit on his chest before she lifts her head, peering at him through the layers of hair in front of her face.

“You should try to sleep.” Damon’s voice is gravely, she can hear sleepiness in it. She sits up so her legs straddle his hips.

“I just want- I want to-” Tears prick at the corners of her eyelids and need bubbles in her chest so harshly she feels like she might go into a fit. “I want to suck you off.” The words slip from her quickly before she can catch him. Usually, Damon’s having to coax her wants out of her with teasing measures except that now she’s too tired to care and she just needs something to hold onto.

Damon rests his hands on her thighs, rubbing his thumb at the skin. Her eyes are beady, glistening in the fairy lights of her bedroom. “Baby, let's get some rest, hmm?” He tries to brush off the subject because he’s worried this is tired Y/N talking and he doesn't want to start anything if she’s second-guessing herself.

“No!” She whines, jutting out her bottom lip. “I don’t want to rest right now, I can’t. I need you.”

His mouth forms a slight ‘o’ o shape when he realizes how she needs him. Soft, coaxing, supportive. He drums at the top of her thigh as a way of giving her permission to situate herself between his legs. Her head comes to rest on his hip bone where her warm breath sends goosebumps along the skin. Damon’s sensitive to her touch right now. They haven’t had sex in a couple of days and it has his mind spinning with filth. As much as he tries to hide how much he’s aroused- this is her show after all- he can’t help the semi that stretches the crotch of his jeans.

With a small hand, Y/N presses her palm against the tent of his pants, squeezing over the bulge and biting down on her bottom lip when Damon cranes his neck against her pillow, his mouth falling open in pleasure. She wants to make him feel good because he does so much for her. He’s patient and understanding. He doesn't see her crying fits over school as silly or naive.

With dainty fingers, Y/N pops open the button on Damon’s jeans earning a soft, relieved, sigh from him. She pushes away the rest of his clothing before taking his dick into her hands, sliding him into her mouth. She sucks and licks at the pinkish tint of his member before relaxing her jaw and filling her mouth.

Damon groans loud, reaching up a hand to brush away the fallen strands of hair that gather in front of her pretty eyes. He wants to watch her face while she sucks him off and his arousal grows when he sees her eyes closed and her face relaxed as she bobs her head. Her head comes up to lick repeatedly at his slit. His hips jolt with her movements, bucking up into the velvety insides of her mouth when she opens up for him again.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so good at that.” He murmurs, composing himself to finger-comb her hair behind her shoulders. One of her hands wraps around the base of his cock, squeezing with two fingers. She gazes up at him through thick eyelashes, taking in his pleasured expression. It urges her on further and she goes so deep that the tip of her nose brushes against the skin above his groin.

He has one hand holding onto her thighs while the other strokes her cheek softly with a thumb. “So good, baby doll. Right there.” He praises her with a soft voice that makes her feel taken care of and small. Her body is warm with the affection that swirls inside of her. She’s already starting to notice how her brain is calming down. She can only focus on Damon and it makes her feel a lot better. She knows she’s doing a good job with this because he’s told her before and his expression is pure bliss.

“You’re so perfect, you know?” He continues stroking her cheek so gently the act alone makes her want to cry. How he can be so gentle while she’s giving him her best head, she doesn't know, but she’s not complaining one bit. The reassurances are all part of the fun. “My perfect girl. I love you so much.”

She moans around him, feeling the wetness of precum slipping down her throat. He gives her little warning about his incoming orgasm, panting at her to get off before he comes but she stays where she is, continuing her pulse until he’s coming hard into her mouth. Spurts hit the back of her throat, coating her mouth in the stickiness that tastes sweet yet bitter at the same time. She swallows the cum gratefully before she pops off, a string of spit stretching from his tip to her mouth.

She smiles as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Holy shit, babe.” She crawls up beside the bed, situating herself on her side in the crook between his arm and his torso. “You don’t want a turn?” He asks, gazing at her tender expression. She shakes her head, blinking sleepily.

“No, I just want snuggles.”

He finds her lips and takes them to his, kissing her passionately. He can still taste himself on her lips, they’re sticky and he wants to coax her into the bathroom to brush her teeth but her eyes are growing heavier by the second and soon, she’s asleep.

~*~*~

He’s done some tidying up around the room, took down the coffee mugs that crowded the surfaces in her room once he made sure her grandmother was sleeping in her bedroom. He unplugged the fairy lights and switched on her bunny nightlight, tucking Peach beneath her arm then situated himself in bed beside her, stroking her back. Then, as promised, he wakes her up an hour later. Something tells him she won’t be waking up to edit her paper but he does it anyway to avoid her being upset with him later.

“Hey, baby girl.” He coos, playing with her hair until her eyes peel open slightly. The bunny night light casts a pink glow across her face that she turns away from, burying her face back into his chest. “It’s been an hour, do you want to get up?”

“No.” She pouts, sleepily pushing his shirt off his body. “Can you spend the night?”

He takes off his shirt and pushes off his jeans. He knows she likes the feeling of his skin against hers. It’s warm and smells like Damon. He situates himself on his back, pulling her close once more. “Sure.” He agrees, his whispers landing against her cheek.

#yeah #this was fun #obsessed with teen bedrooms in #film #so I had to write about one #damon salvatore #tvd damon #tvd #the vampire diaries #tvd fanfiction #damon x reader #damon x y/n #damon salvatore smut #damon salvatore x reader #tvd smut

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kinsurou · 3 years

Text

Hello guys! This is my first contribution to the Haikyuu HQ Server Collabs! It's so exciting to be part of this project alongside so many wonderful creators! We were asked to create a fic/art with the following prompt: "I wonder what he'd do if he knew you were with me right now." (Pronouns may vary).

I want to thank everyone in the HQHQ Server who helped me out with this fic. You guys are such amazing friends and I love every single one of you!

Click here to check out the Collab Masterlist!

Word Count: 5.1K

Pairings: Suna Rintarou x Reader

Beta Reader: @kuroos-babygirl

Warnings: Smut (+18), Dubcon (Reader doesn't give verbal consent.) Coercion, Toxic Parental Figures, Use of weed, Alcohol, Unprotected sex, Corruption.

A sharp, unfaltering gaze followed your every move all the way back from the other side of the room. From the small fidgeting whenever anyone looked in your direction, to the way you would sip awkwardly at the red cup clasped between your hands, and the scrunch of distaste adorning your features because of the strong, bitter flavor of the drink.

But what else could you do when you’re surrounded by literal strangers, and the only person that can be considered your only friend was currently too busy straddling a guy’s lap, making out to her heart’s content and grinding against his lap...while they’re both sitting in front of you.

It was so awkward...and yet it was nearly impossible to look away from the two of them. The way her hips rocked against his lap as she pulled on his gray locks, or his veiny hands taking a firm hold of her hips. Watching her going at it with this guy was too much to handle.

Why did you let her drag you into this party to begin with? If your parents find out you snuck out of the house, they’ll kill you.

...Your parents.

That thought is quickly forgotten. Right now you just want to have another drink and drown the worries away. Standing up from the cushion, you quickly begin walking towards the kitchen, leaving behind the security of the couch as well as your occupied friend.

To your relief, the kitchen isn’t as crowded as the rest of the house, where other people were just talking, some of them doing keg stands or playing drinking games. There’s even some of them laying around the floor or leaning against the walls, completely knocked out by the amount of alcohol they consumed.

Finally, you come across a mess of beer bottles and red cups all over the countertop, some of them thrown around carelessly, others are full with the alcohol you were desperately looking for. Rather than going back to your seat, you stay in the empty room, leaning back against the marble and taking a swig of a new cup, once again drinking in silence while swaying slightly to the beat of the music. Too distracted to realize someone else just walked in until their footsteps come relatively closer, stopping less than a few feet away from you.

“Isn’t it past midnight already, Cinderella?”

You jolt in surprise, nearly crushing the cup with a tight grip until you recognize that voice and that cursed nickname. There’s only one person on campus who calls you that face to face. Frowning slightly as you look at the culprit, you come face to face with a pair of nonchalant, dark yellow eyes that are always looking out for other’ weak spots despite their absent facade.

“Stop calling me that, Suna.” You turn away from him, hoping that he’ll get the hint and walk away, but that heavy, piercing gaze never leaves your body. Instead, he just walked closer before stopping in front of you. He starts leaning forwards, that bored look on his face doesn’t change in the slightest while he traps you between the marble countertop and his broad torso. “G-Go away…”

But he just continues staring at you, not another word comes out of his lips before his face approaches yours. Cheeks brushing past each other’s so faintly that the touch almost goes unnoticed. When his warm breath brushes against the uncovered skin of your shoulders, you finally realize just how close he’s standing. But either he doesn’t notice or he just doesn’t care about the proximity, or the effects it has on your body. Such as the clenching between your thighs or the small hitch in your breathing.

It only lasted for a minute, and yet it feels like an eternity when he finally takes a step back, holding one of those familiar cups in hand. Both relief and disappointment radiate off your body when he finally takes a step back, but judging from the way he looks at you with a small glint in his eyes, Suna is perfectly aware of what he’s provoking.

“Disappointed much?” God, you wanted to smack that smirk off his face so badly. This is exactly why you try to avoid him in college as much as possible.

...As well as other reasons.

“You’re so easy to read that it’s not even a challenge.” The eye contact is never broken as he leans back against the sink, taking a sip of his own cup so nonchalantly. It was like he didn’t corner you in the first place. But you know better that Suna Rintarou never does anything by mere coincidence. “What are you doing here in the first place? I thought Cinderella wasn’t allowed to go to the party.”

“Yeah, well…” You don’t look at him as you answer. The less eye contact you could make with him, the better “She still attended, didn’t she?”

He chuckled quietly from his spot. It was such a low noise, barely audible despite standing so close to him. And yet something about it was just so captivating. You’ve never heard his laughter before, so this was definitely something new.

“No wonder everyone’s talking about you right now.” With those words, you fell right into his trap just like a butterfly on a spiderweb. Quickly turning around to find yourself into the same position as before. Trapped between marble and his warmth. This time he stood even closer than before, so close that you could smell an all too familiar scent that saturated every fiber of his clothes.

“It was too good to be true. The principal’s daughter coming to a party? Had to see with my own eyes.” He leans forwards again. The overwhelming proximity makes your heart beat rapidly against your chest with such strength, it’s a miracle Suna hasn’t said anything about it when he presses his own chest against yours. Or maybe he did notice, if the way he looks at your cleavage is any indicator.

“You’re so nervous, it feels like I’m looking at a little rabbit.” His fingers start playing with the hem of your blouse, brushing faintly against your hips. Every inch of your skin trembles by his touch. A part of your head tells you this is a bad idea, that you need to walk away and leave right this instant. But your body says otherwise, staying firm in place.

“N-No.” Your gaze is averted, focused on anything else but the man standing in front of you. “Please, I just want to leave...”

“Do you? Or maybe you’re just afraid.” Something brushes softly against the shell of your ear, it takes you a full minute to realize that feeling belongs to his lips, nibbling teasingly while his hands make their way up your back, fiddling with the clips of your bra. But he just keeps tugging at them playfully, not really set on taking off your clothes….at least not yet.

“Afraid of what your parents would say. Think nobody knows how they treat you?” his hands finally stop, just to delve down until they’re resting over your lower back. “You’re such a good girl who never causes trouble...it’s too good to be true if you ask me.”

He pulled your hips closer towards him, slipping one leg between your trembling legs. A sly smirk grew on his face once he began grinding his knee against your core, sweet friction drew out one of the sweetest, high-pitched gasps from you. A noise so sweet, dirty and addictive that he needed to hear more of them. So when you looked at him in the eye, Suna could barely control himself. “Don’t you want to let loose for once? Do you want to be my dirty little girl?”

“Suna, I…” He didn’t wait for an answer, capturing your silky lips into a fervent kiss, swallowing every single whimper you gave whenever that knee brushed lazily against your core. Everything he did quickly overwhelmed your body, triggering a chain of breath-taking sensations. Like the fluttering at the pit of your stomach, the uncontrollable shivers prickling your skin, and the waves of heat radiating off your face. Frankly, you wanted more of it.

...But just thinking about your parent’s reactions was enough to feel terrified. The constant pressure and beliting over the smallest things. Not getting a perfect score in all the exams? Lazy and irresponsible. Wearing something they deemed inappropriate? Attention seeker. You could still remember the one time you ran into Suna while he was smoking, the smell of his cigarette had tainted your clothes that day, but neither of your parents believed the claims of innocence, calling you such horrible things that the mere reminder could be enough to make anyone suffer a meltdown.

Having one of the harshest teachers as well as the principal themselves as your parents was a nightmare nobody would wish upon their worst enemy.

You mustered enough courage to place both hands on his chest, slightly pushing him away while trying so hard not to try and feel the chiseled muscles hidden underneath the black fabric of his shirt.

“Stop. They’ll kill me if they find out.”

“They don’t have to know.”

“But I don’t want to get in trouble again.”

“You’re already in trouble just being here, Cinderella.”

It was true. And you hated how true that statement was, sooner or later your father would find out and it would be chaos...but that didn’t do much to soothe that painful sensation at the pit of your stomach, slowly feeding off the sheer horror you felt at the idea of their constant beliting.

The trembling of your body didn’t go unnoticed by the guy standing between your legs.

“Hey, you’re already in trouble...So let me help you relax, what do you say, Cinderella?” He kissed your jaw softly, lingering in place as he inhaled the soft scent of perfume. “Don’t you want to feel good for once? I know you’ll enjoy it.”

But he was only met with silence, neither were you looking at him again, instead your eyes stayed focused on the sink overflowing with empty bottles of liquor. Suna just huffed, pulling his hands back before he began stepping back, ready to go back to the living room with a sour mood, but that quickly vanished when he felt the tight clutch at the corner of his shirt.

With an eyebrow raised, he turned back to see you grabbing on his shirt, still avoiding his gaze as much as possible. But he could see it, the way your body said the contrary. You wanted this as much as he did, maybe even more. But the fear clouding your thoughts was making it hard to say anything.

And that gave Suna an idea.

“If you want this so bad, then I can give you a hand. What do you say Cinderella?” His fingers once again brushed against the uncovered skin of your shoulder. And when you made no move to stop his approaches, Suna knew he had won. “Good girl.”

He grabbed you softly by the wrist, determined to take things somewhere more private. Nobody seemed to pay attention anymore as you both walked across the halls. When he crossed the living room, Suna made eye contact with his silver haired friend, who was ever so busy with the girl sitting on his lap as she attacked his neck fervently. Both males just looked at each other and nodded silently before getting back to business. Osamu went back to making out with the girl, and Suna brought you along to one of the empty rooms.

The sound of a door being closed snapped you out of it. apart from the soft glow of the moonlight, the room was completely dark, but it was still possible to see the outline of some furniture placed around the room, the outline of a desk at the corner, some shelves and even a small couch near the window. It had to be some sort of study. Whose house was this in the first place…?

Out of nowhere, a strong smell began coming from your side, slowly making its presence well-known across the room. A strong smell that could come from one thing only.

And that was from the joint held between Suna’s fingers, the tip burned brightly in the darkness of the room, giving his sharp features this captivating, gentle glow akin to that from a fireplace in those fairytales you always used to read when you were but a small little girl, still full of nothing but hope and dreams for a brighter future.

Suna noticed the way your eyes lingered on the speck of light, following the smoky trail as it danced across the small breeze inside the room before dissipating, like it never existed in the first place.

“Here.” He put the joint in front of your face, not even blinking by the shocked expression on your face. Eyes wide open as you looked at it with sheer horror and panic. “This will help you relax, little rabbit.”

“...I thought I was Cinderella?”

“I thought you hated that nickname?”

He sighed in irritation, knowing exactly where this was going. You changed the subjects on purpose, trying to delay this for a bit longer. “Come on, it’s not like it’s gonna bite you.”

Slowly, you grabbed the joint from his hand. Carefully bringing it closer to your mouth and letting its weight rest over your lips for a moment, before inhaling deeply. Something you quickly regretted before coughing rapidly, suffocating on the smoke burning at the back of your throat. The room was filled with coughing and a laughing fit coming from the male sitting on the couch. When in the world did he sit down?

“How...ack!...How do you enjoy this crap?!” You wheezed painfully, glaring at Suna while he held the sides of his stomach, his body was shaking tremendously from his laughter that he nearly slid off the couch. Asshole…

Once he regained his breath, he got up from his seat and approached you again, taking the blunt away before you could throw it away, after all it had been expensive.

“Seriously Cinderella. You’re supposed to go slowly.” He pulled you along one more time. Sitting back on his previous spot as he helped position your legs to his sides so you straddled his lap just nicely enough for him to admire the sight in front of him. “I suppose you could use some help, mmm?”

You looked at him in both embarrassment and confusion. Watching him smoke that cursed thing so easily, no coughing fits, no choking on the smoke, nada. How long had he been doing this? All your attention was on the embers coming to life with his breathing, too focused on that precious light to notice the hand making its way around your back, casually tracing circles on your upper back.

That same hand pulled you again, this time with such care that it was impossible to resist the contact, not even when he pulled the blunt away before reaching out for your face, holding you close by the cheeks as your lips brushed against each others. You focused every bit of attention on that feather like touch, that was shortly followed by a fain gust of smoke. It felt so intimate being like this, being held so closely by someone you’ve known since high school, and being able to catch up after all this time wasn’t such a bad experience after all…

Then something in the air took a sharp turn when he closed the distance between your lips, once again capturing them with his own. But this time that weight on your shoulders was absent. That fear that always haunted your every action, every decision, every single thought, it was all gone.

For once in your life, you were not afraid anymore…

Your arms me their way around his neck, deepening the kiss with an intensity Suna didn’t even know was possible for someone as meek and quiet as you. No wonder people always joke that the quietest ones are the most perverse.

“Haha...That’s the spirit, Cinderella.”

The arms around your body pulled your hips down, grinding the spot between your legs against something hard, it didn’t take a genius to know where this was heading. You just let his arms guide you through it, enjoying the grinding of his growing erection and the low grunts he gave, easily muffled by the deafening music blaring through the other side of the door.

“Enjoying yourself?” If only you could see the mischievous smirk on his face when the only reply he got was a loud whimper. If only you could see the effect those little noises had on the male humping through your clothes, eager to get a taste of your body after all this time pining after you. “Fuck, you’re really into this, huh? You dirty little girl.”

Was it his words? The blunt finally starting to kick in? Both? Whatever it was, it made waves of heat radiate off your skin, covering it with a thin layer of sweat that made your clothes suffocating. Every fiber of these borrowed tight fitting clothes kept sticking oh so painfully over your body.

It felt like a torture having to part away from Suna, but these clothes had to leave. He had to admit watching as your top left your body was a delicious show, one he really wanted to take part in as he reached out to help remove your bottoms, leaving your body displayed to him, covered in nothing but a scandalous set of lingerie.

“Not so innocent, are you?”

As soon as you got within his arm’s reach, he pulled you back into his lap again. This time however, he had you sitting down between his open legs, with your bare back leaning against his chest. Not only did Suna have a way with words that could easily rile anyone up, but he also had a way to do wonders with his hands.

The blunt was left over the window’s edge, forgotten in favor of your lace covered chest. Which he began squeezing softly, pinching the fabric over your nipples every time you released a whimper because of his intoxicating touches.

“Do you ever play with your nipples the same way you play with your pussy?”

“N-No…!”

“You’re an awful liar, Cinderella.” He slid one hand under your bra, pinching an erect nipple between his fingers while his other hand made his way to trace small circles over your panties, enjoying the feeling of damp fabric under his fingers. “You can tell a lot about people by looking them in the eye. You’re so desperate to be fucked silly.”

The lace over your chest is pulled upwards, releasing the soft mounds from their restraints with a soft bounce before a hand quickly latched on to one of them. Squeezing in sync with the fingers making their way inside the black lingerie, one began prodding its way between sloppy folds, gathering enough of your arousal before delving deeper into your cunt.

“Mmmm!….It feels so...weird.” Your back arches with each thrust of his finger against your soft walls “Suna, please!” Rather than slowing down he pushes another finger inside, thrusting and scissoring them at a leisurely pace to prepare you for the real thing.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that.” He swiftly wraps an arm under your chest as soon as your body starts writhing, buckling against the digits buried deep inside. The calloused texture, a result of his constant games of volleyball, provide additional stimulation. “Now, hold still. Look at you, taking my fingers so well.”

If only you could wipe that smirk of his face, but your hands were currently balled up into tight fists, nails digging painfully into the skin of your palms with ferocious strength, threatening to rip through the flesh at any moment.

“Does it feel this good when you’re touching yourself?” You began squirming again, unable to take anymore of his touch, it’s too much, your body couldn’t take it anymore. It jerked furiously as it reached an orgasm, knocking the air out of your lungs with its strength.

If only you could see the look on Suna’s face as he leaned forwards over your shoulder, observing the heave of your chest with heightened desire. The throbbing in his pants turned unbearable when your walls clenched around his hand, soaking it with your sweet release that dripped down on the couch.

God, he wanted to be inside you so badly. He wanted to ruin that sweet little hole, wreck it and fill it with his cum until the only thing that came out of your parted lips was his name.

“Ready for the best part, you little whore?” You were still too dazed to answer him, not even when he laid you face down on the couch, pulling your hips up to hook two fingers over the waistband of those soaked panties, pulling them away and taking them off before shoving them in his pocket. He grunted at the sight of those dripping folds, grabbing the flesh of your bare ass to get a better look at that slick cunt ready to be pleased. “I want to taste your pussy so badly, Cinderella.”

His hand left your skin just as quickly. You felt his weight leave the cushion, hearing the rustle of fabric even with the music from the party still blaring downstairs. One sound caught your attention among all the noise. The sound of a zipper being undone lures you attention like a sweet melody. And when your face follows the source you’re greeted by such an alluring sight of a well toned chest, with ripped muscles from years of training in the volleyball team despite Suna’s lean frame.

You wanted to run your hands acrossthem again, caress and kiss that bare skin. But Suna had other plans as he lowered both pants and boxers, sighing as his erection springs out with a small bounce, with a small bead of precum already dribbling down. He was quick to crawl over your naked body to begin grinding his shaft between your cheeks so you could feel the hard cock eager to be inside your velvet walls. “But as much as I’d love to have you sitting on my face. I can’t wait any longer, but neither can you right?”

He let out that signature chuckle when you buried your face into the arm rest and started mumbling to yourself, he could still make out something along the lines of “asshole”.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Cinderella.” He gathered more of your arousal between his fingers, occasionally rubbing a thumb against your clit to tease, ignoring the desperate pleads as he began pumping his cock, covering it with enough of your slick before pressing it down between your folds, with a quick thrust of his hips, he finally buried himself all the way in.

The fabric underneath your face muffed your cries of discomfort, pressed tightly against your face to the point it was hard to breathe. The stretch was so painful, so hot, but it was so fucking good, your body craved for more and Suna was eager to provide.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You feel so good sucking in my cock like a good little slut.” He gripped your hips harshly, giving short, lazy thrust that made you cry out to him. “Tell me how good it feels to have me inside of you.”

“It feels...ngh! It feels great, Suna!” A hand smacked your ass painfully, leaving behind a burning sensation on the delicate skin. “Mmmm!”

“Wrong name, sweetheart.” He gave another thrust, a rougher one that pushed you forwards, nearly smacking your forehead against the arm rest. “Wanna try again? You better get it right this time.”

“R….Rin-!” A hand pressed firmly on your back while the other one tilted your hips upwards, it helped Suna brush against a different spot, one that brought tears to your eyes with every thrust. An arm reached back to hold on to him, just to be grabbed by the wrist and twisted behind your back, trapped in place while Suna began moving faster “Eh, close enough. Be grateful your pussy feels so good, otherwise I would’ve left already.”

“No!” You cried out, “Please Rin! Don’t stop, it feels so good!” You gave him a pleading look and tried moving your hips, just for a hand to smack the tender flesh of your ass, it was a warming to remain still. You’ve never been this bold before, why were you acting so different? Was it the effects of the blunt? Being railed in the middle of a party, where anyone could barge in at any moment?

“So you know your place, good.” you didn’t know it was possible to feel better than what you’re currently feeling, but Suna proved it was possible when he began pounding you harder, nearly pulling out his whole member until only the tip remained inside before slamming back against your abused hole.

He couldn’t take his eyes off your body, of the soft jiggling of your ass whenever he slammed back against it, the loud slapping of your skin, the way you moaned whenever he brushed against your cervix. It was too good, and he needed to preserve that image.

Your arm was released abruptly, and you quickly pulled it back to hold onto something else as the same warm feeling from before began spreading again, sending goosebumps through your whole body. If that wonderful feeling and the music hadn’t been a distraction, you would have heard the low beep of a smartphone filming everything.

It started out at the spot where you both were connected, capturing the uncontrollable clenching of your cunt around Suna’s cock, the lewd mixture of your moans, grunts, the slapping of sweaty skin and one of the most vulgar songs to ever exist, slowly the camera went over those red marks all over your ass and hips, until it stopped at the back of your head, and the locks of hair bouncing around with each thrust.

“You look beautiful, Cinderella.” Suna cooed. “I wonder what They’d do if They knew you were with me right now.” He hissed in delight when you clenched tighter around him. “What would mommy and daddy think of you?”

Anyone else would have cringed from thinking about their parents in the middle of sex, but Suna’s words stirred something twisted inside you. A wicked being yearning to make your parent’s life miserable and make them pay for everything.

Every single memory came back in a flash. From the memories of elementary school, where they expected nothing but the best but couldn’t bother to attend the school plays to the incident at college.

That was the last straw, and the exact same reason why you sneaked out to this party to begin with, even borrowing an outfit from your friend that was perfect for the occasion. And look where that got you, to one hell of a good experience. Probably the first time you’ve been able to be yourself, not just a trophy child to be bragged about during Christmas dinner.

The same creature wanting to feed off your parent’s wrath kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear, sinister thoughts hidden behind honeyed words, craving to watch the world burn beneath your feet….In the end, not a single effort was ever enough to please your parent’s expectations...so, why bother?

Fuck it...Fuck it all.

“Harder, please fuck me harder Rin! Your cock feels amazing!” Suna blinked once, then twice, scoffing in amusement by the sudden twist in your mood, but who was he to complain? His phone was quickly shoved aside and ignored, not even remembering to stop filming as he leaned over your body.

Those hard muscles you had been craving to touch were pressed firmly against your back, his toned arms resting around your head, and the chance to feel them up was certainly not missed.

With this angle, he reached places inside you that felt like the physical embodiment of paradise. Drool, sweat and tears covered your entire face when he found that one spot that took away your breath, and he began abusing it repeatedly. He too started getting closer to his release, and buried his face into your hair with a growl. His pace wavered bit….but he was so close, and so were you, judging from the desperation as you chanted his name over and over.

“Where do you want me to cum, my little whore? In you- Fuck! in your pussy? Your mouth? Your pretty pucker? I’ll put it wherever you want.”

That was it, you couldn’t take it anymore. Just thinking of it sent you over the edge. Your walls clamped down on his cock with such force that Suna had to stop moving. He would’ve loved to keep going for a little longer, but he couldn’t take it either.

“Rin!” With the last cry of his name, he pushed his whole body against yours, dropping his whole weight down as he finally came, coating your insides with spurt after spurt of warm cum. Nothing seemed to matter as you laid on the soiled piece of furniture, trying to catch your breath in a dark room reeking of sex, sweat and weed.

It felt like an eternity had passed when Suna finally moved away and pulled out, watching in satisfaction as his cum began leaking, running down over your folds, your clit, eventually dripping down on the furniture with every spasm of your body.

The one thing that caught him off guard was when you hid your face away from him and began trembling in place, muffling some sniffles with the aid of the cushion. The fact you began crying caught him off guard for a moment, until your face turned to the side. And rather than crying, you were actually giggling like a mad woman.

You couldn’t stop that giddy smile. Cheeks burning furiously from everything you felt in that moment. For once in your life, you had the chance to experience freedom in the most intoxicating ways, and you wouldn’t change it for anything else.

“Everything okay, Cinderella?”

“Ahahaha...Yeah…” You turned over and laid on your back shortly after the laughter finally ceased, and turned back to him to watch that familiar joint between his fingers.

“Everything’s fine.”

Taglist: @hawks-senseis @honeytama @wakaoujisenhime @iwaasfairy @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro @xplosiveboy @shinsotired

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #suna smut #suna x reader #haikyu x reader #tw dubcon #dubcon tw #tw coercion #tw weed #p.going dark #coercion tw #suna rintarou smut #haikyuu imagines

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years

Text

no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: catholic priest!Bucky, virgin!Bucky, desecrating thoughts and actions, explicit language, smut, consensual sexual acts, mentions of loss of virginity, slight innocence and religious kinks (nothing disturbing), oral sex, fingering, masturbation, sex in a public (and sacred) place.

Summary: As punishment for your sinful behavior, your parents send you to your aunt’s house in the middle of nowhere, in hope you’ll redeem yourself. The punishment quickly backfires when you take an interest in the local (and handsome) priest, and you manage to corrupt his pure soul.

A/N: I was in a priest!Bucky mood this morning and I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie writing challenge. I chose prompt 17 and the ‘opposites attract’ trope. I hope you like this!

Filth and happy ending ‘cause I’m a sap. Take me to church by Hozier inspired this.

This is not a dark story and both reader and Bucky are consenting adults. Fyi, catholic priests can’t marry, and they change their name when they are ordained. We’ll pretend James is the name he took as priest.

You look over your shoulder to check if anyone’s around and knock on the backdoor of the church, waiting for your lover to usher you inside. The sinful secrecy of it all, the rush of excitement, your love for all that’s forbidden: you’ve never felt more alive.

Being forced to spend the summer in the middle of nowhere is not the way you expected your senior year of college to end, but not all evil comes to harm, and in this quiet little town, you’ve become quite interested in the local priest. In your defence, boredom is the root of all evil, and in your case, evil happens to make you horny and prone to making bad decisions, and Father James is young and handsome, so it was only a matter of time before he gave in the temptation of the flesh and you found yourself fucked against the altar.

Ordained or not, he’s only a man after all.

The confessional is dark and suffocating; behind the wooden screen, the priest is all ears.

Muscle memory kicks in when you do the sign of the cross and begin to speak.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” you recite the formula that’s been ingrained in your mind since you were old enough to need it, “My last confession was seven years ago.”

You mentally curse your parents for still having the authority to send you to Bumfuck Nowhere, Alabama, and your aunt for forcing you to attend church and confess your sins.

It will be good for your soul, they said, New York is corrupting you.

You suppose it’s only fair that your good catholic parents would react so drastically; they wanted to surprise you in your new apartment and drove all the way from Rhode Island to New York, only to find your piano tutor buried balls deep inside of you. Lord knows what they’d do if they knew you’ve lost your purity long before that, with one of the good catholic girls in your private boarding school. Extramarital sex, with a woman at that! They’d probably have a meltdown, drag your to a cloistered convent and lock you there for life.

You don’t wait for the priest to acknowledge you and start talking.

“You know Father, I found a handy dandy little list of all the sins you’re supposed to confess to and I checked them. I’ll read it to you. Let’s see.” you clear your throat, “So, I use artificial birth control, I broke a couple of promises, including the one to wait for marriage, I can be kind of blasphemous sometimes, but you see, I spent six months abroad in Italy last year and the kids there taught me all sorts of ways to disrespect the Lord, they have so many, and once those things get stuck in your brain... what can you do, they just stick in there, you don’t even want to say them but they become part of your vocabulary.” you continue uninterrupted, “Anyways, my parents caught me in the act with a man, so I guess we have ‘dishonoring family’ too. Underage drinking as a kid, a lot of that. Drugs sometimes, nothing major, ya know, I don’t do coke or nothing. Gossiping, impure thoughts, God-”

He interrupts you clearing his throat.

“Sorry. See? I don’t even do it on purpose. As I was saying, I love those. Lying... not a whole lot to be honest; to my parents, mostly. Haven’t prayed in a good 10 years. Masturbation, did I mention that? Watched porn a couple of times, ‘m not a big fan if I’m being honest, but to each their own. Oh, and premarital sex, a ton of that. Had an orgy once, not too fond of those either. Too many limbs.”

There’s a lot to unpack here, so you give him a moment to ponder his thoughts. He stays silent for a while, and when he speaks his voice is not at all what you expected it to be. He’s soft spoken yet commanding, and sounds surprisingly young.

“Anything else you can remember?”

“Well of course, the cherry on top, my own first class ticket to hell.” you say, not as cheerful as before, repeating the exact words you’ve been taught for years, “God gave me free will and I used it to commit homosexual acts, Father. Multiple times.”

You let the words hang in the stuffy air of the confessional; you don’t know what to expect from the priest, to be honest. Last time you admitted to thinking of a girl to a religious figure, Sister Theresa told you you’d never have to act on your impulses, or you’d burn in hell for it. You were 12.

“You think that’s worse than the rest?”

“Not me, no, I don’t.”

He hums thoughtfully. “What makes you do the things you do?” he asks, and you don’t feel any of the judgment you were expecting, only genuine curiosity.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me to repent for my sins?” you reply, equally as curious.

“Is absolution what you’re seeking?”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m not looking for forgiveness, Father, and I’m way past asking for permission.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My aunt forced me.”

It’s his turn to snort this time. “You don’t seem the type to follow orders blindly.”

You admit the guy’s got a point. “I guess… I don’t know. I felt the need to. It feels nice, talking to someone. I feel lonely a lot, and it’s easier to talk to strangers. And this is cheaper than therapy, so that’s a bonus. Really, I just need to vent.”

“Do you regret any of your choices?” he says, after a while.

“Not the ones I confessed to.” you admit, trying to discern the priest’s figure behind the screen.

“What is it, then?”

“You know, you’re kinda chill for a priest from Alabama, I gotta give it to you.” you respond, dodging his question.

“Thanks, it’s probably because I’m from Brooklyn.”

“What the hell-”

“Language.”

“Sorry. Why would someone move from Brooklyn to this place?”

“Vocation.”

“I see.”

It’s silent again, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

“You should come to the parish sometimes. We have meetings, we sing, we eat together, the children play football and the young adults talk about what it means to be a Catholic in the modern world. It may ease your mind about a lot of worries and misconceptions you might have.”

You contemplate on his words: it wouldn’t hurt, would it? It’s not like you’ve got a whole lot going on here; and you might as well find yourself a devoted man or woman to pass time.

“I might.”, you finally respond, not willing to give him the satisfaction, and stand from the chair. “I’ll see you around, Father.”

“May God give you peace, miss.”

“Amen.”

“What took you so long?” James asks, grunting when you pull on his hair.

“My aunt asked me to make lunch for her husband, as if he couldn’t do it his damn self.” you respond, and suck on his bottom lip, “Missed me?”

“Always.”

You coo, “My eager boy.”

He’s sitting on his office chair and you’re straddling his lap, grinding your hips on him and feeling his arousal grow. You’re burning up, panties damp and a familiar coil in your core. You don’t know what excites you the most: being responsible for the corruption of such pure soul, the forbidden aspect of fucking a Catholic priest, or the possibility of someone walking in on you. Your walls flutter when you imagine the scandal that this affair would create.

You pull him closer, tugging on his white collar, and he breaks the kiss. His eyes are black and glossed over, lips swollen, cheeks red, but there’s something like worry in eyes.

“Do you love me?” he asks quietly, in the soft voice you adore.

“Of course I do, you know that.”

You fall on your knees and fumble with the zipper of his black pants.

“Would you love me if I didn’t have this collar?” he stops your hands with his, “Would you still love me if I wasn’t this?”, he gestures to his sacred attire.

You pause your actions and search his eyes. Where is this coming from?

“Yes, I’d love you anyways, I’ll always love you.”

A small, shy smile breaks on his face. He lifts you up and makes you sit on his desk.

“I- I w-want to try something,” he begins with a stutter, “I remember hearing some kids back when I was in school talk about it.”

You cock your head to the side, observing carefully as he sits back down on the chair and parts your legs. He lowers his head and begins peppering the inner skin of your thighs with open mouthed kisses. Oh-.

“James, you don’t have to do this.” you try to tell him, but he’s already moving your panties to the side.

He stares entranced between your legs; he’s never been this bold, never watched you there. “You’re so pretty, I want to kiss you here.”

You feel a finger tease your entrance and dip in. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and when he licks a strip of your dripping cunt, you feel like you could burst. He delves in your glistening folds, tongue swirling around as if he was kissing your mouth, and your hips jerk forward when he crooks a couple of fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes the coil in your belly grow tighter.

You throw your head back and your eyes fall on the cross behind you. You are very much past forgiveness at this point, you muse, and that makes this all the more exciting.

You’re writhing under his touch, completely at his mercy. You grab the back of his neck and bring his face upward so that his mouth comes in contact with your clit.

“Suck there.” you demand in a raspy voice, rocking your hips and fucking yourself on his fingers. “Good boy.” you praise when he closes his mouth around your bud and begins sucking and lapping on it. “Yes, oh my God, fuck, faster.”

James obeys and jerks the fingers inside of you, the vibration and his tongue enough to make the knot in your core unravel and pleasure release in jolts, shooting from your center to the rest of your body; you slap a hand on your mouth to suppress wanton moans as your hips twitch involuntarily and your toes curl. He rides you though your orgasm until you’re too sensitive to handle his face on you.

When you look down, you find him, face wet in your arousal, eyes half lidded.

“Did I do well?” he asks full of hope, still clinging to your legs and nuzzling your thigh.

“You did amazing, sweet boy.”

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

Hearing your sultry voice, he chokes on air behind the screen and clears his throat, trying to keep the same composure he always seems to loose when you’re around.

“I got friendly with a man, you see, a man of church.” you begin in a teasing tone, “He kissed me, and I didn’t pull back. I let him roam his hands all over my body, Father, and then I corrupted him.”, You lick a couple of fingers and dip them in your mouth, then you release them with a popping sound and slowly slip them in your panties. You push a finger in your already wet core, smearing arousal around and teasing your clit, slow at first. “You should have seen how innocent he looked, Father. He said he’s never been touched like that. A virgin. I’ve never been with a virgin before.” you continue, almost moaning the last part as you slide three fingers in and out of you and tease your bud with your thumb, “He didn’t even know I could please him with my mouth, so I took him in and I sucked him off.” You’re panting, hand furiously circling your clit. You hear Bucky’s ragged breath behind the screen. “He moaned so loud, F-F-Father, he c-came so quick. And I swallowed it all, because you can’t let a single drop of seed g-go to w-waste, can you?” you whimper, feeling an orgasm build up.

You’re fueled by his suppressed grunts and the lewd sounds of him touching himself.

“I don’t come for absolution Father, because I’d do it all again.” you breathe at last, letting pleasure run through your every nerve, setting you ablaze.

Behind the screen, Father James paints his hand and black shirt in white spurts, shame and pleasure fighting eachother in his mind.

You haven’t moved yet, legs parted, trying to catch your breath, and James is still clinging onto you.

You don’t know how it happened.

It started with boredom, with a wish to fuck the pretty priest, but you’ve caught feelings now, and in three weeks you’ll have to get back to New York, where a job and a new apartment await you.

At least your aunt and your parents are happy about your redemption: you’ve been going to church everyday. They don’t need to know you’ve spent most time on your knees or on your back.

But you don’t want to think about it now; you can’t let sadness take over and ruin these moments when James is only yours. Your love is on borrowed time, and you intend to make the most out of it.

“Do you want to fuck me, my love? You want me to come all over your pretty cock, yes? You want to fill me up with your cum?” you whisper in his ear, amused at the way he blushes.

“Please.” he whines, palming his cock through his briefs.

“Please what, sweet boy?”

“Please let me-” he interrupts himself.

“Let me what?”

He mumbles something incomprehensible.

“Can’t hear you.” you tease him, grabbing his chin and tilting his face up.

“Let me make love to you.”

You let out a chuckle and shake your head fondly. This man has had you bent over his desk, in the confessional, behind the altar, on the benches where the devoted Catholics of this town attend mass, and yet he can’t bring himself to talk crudely.

You pull on his hair so he stands, and you kiss him ravenously, letting your hands roam over his lean body, the taste of his lips permanently etched in the back of your mind. You don’t want to forget a thing, so you commit to mind each of his little noises, the way his tongue swirls around yours, the soft caresses of his hands.

Clothes discarded in a blur, the room is filled with your moan and his grunts. He pounds into you like a desperate man, clinging onto you with a bruising touch, holding you impossibly close as if you were about to slip through his fingers. And in a way, you are.

When James makes love to you the world disappears and there’s no judgement, no church. He’s not a priest, you’re not a sinner; he’s not pure, you’re not sick.

It’s just you and him, united in one body. Just a man and a woman being one in the flesh.

His thrusts become sloppier, his breathing labored. He brings a hand on your clit and presses on it. He comes inside of you, painting your walls, and the feeling of his swollen cock inside you and his cum filling you up are enough to trigger your release too, your walls clenching on him and milking every last drop.

You’re exhausted, panting in each other’s embrace.

There’s no sin when you’re like this; you’re no longer the devil to his holy water.

There’s only love.

James’ desk in his office is dark and wide, with mahogany panels on all three sides except the one he sits at. So when Ms. Lee, the adorable elderly lady that organizes the monthly fundraising events for charity, knocks on the door as you’re bouncing on James’ cock, all you have to do is crouch down and disappear under the table.

“Good evening, Father James.” She greets him cheerfully.

You hear the tapping of her heels until she plops down on the guests chair.

“Good evening, Ms. Lee.” he responds in a strained voice, adjusting himself on the chair.

Ms. Lee speaks a lot. She’s talking James’ ear off, blabbering about the next charity event, and you think what better occasion than this one to be an indecent slut.

You slowly massage his thighs, bringing your hands from his knees to his groin, teasing him when you get close to his crotch and retracting.

You watch as his cock swells in front of you, and you bite back a giggle. You hear him suck in a breath when you start pumping his length with both your hands.

“Are you alright, James? You’re looking a little worse for wear.” Ms. Lee asks him worriedly when she sees her priest red and sweaty.

James clears his throat and when he’s about to open his mouth, you lick a strip from base to his leaking tip, and the noise that escapes him is between a moan and a grunt.

“Y-yes, Ms. Lee, I’m fine. Just some food poisoning I think.” he manages to answer, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Poor thing.” she coos, and you take his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around, sucking on the frail skin of under the tip, “Anyways-” she begins again.

James tries to keep his composure, but you sense his distress, and you imagine it must be written all over his face. One hand massages his balls, the other aids your movements as you bob your head up and down, careful not to make a noise. His legs twitch under the table when you push his cock all the way down to your throat, and he makes a strangled noise.

“Sweetie, are you sure you’re fine? You really don’t look like it.” Ms. Lee interjects again, interrupting her story.

“I’m fine ma’am, don’t worry about me.”, he says through gritted teeth, jaw clenched shut so hard he might break his teeth.

You give it all you’ve got until your jaw is aching and your knees are killing you. Your effort pays off when, with one last motion on your hands, James grunts and cums in your throat, hips jerking forward and legs shaking.

He comes so hard that you choke on his release.

“Did you hear it too?” she asks in alert.

“He-hear wh-what?” he stutters, pretending to cough to hide your noises.

“A choking sound?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that, just my cough.” he answers, red faced and spent.

“I guess…” she doesn’t sound convinced but lets it go anyways. She could never imagine her sweet priest is getting blown by a city whore under his desk, “I’ll get going then, but please get some rest Father, your holy duties can wait.”

They can indeed, you think, as James yanks you from underneath the table and bends you over the desk, fucking you until you’re crying.

“What makes you do the things you do?” he’s playing with your hair as he asks the question that’s been plaguing him for months, since that first time in the confessional.

You’re in a motel somewhere, two hours away from your town, laying on a bed like two lovers. In this room, you’re not a dirty little secret.

What excited you before, suffocates you now.

You thought you may only like the forbidden, but you find yourself at peace in his arms, that peace you’ve yearned for for 22 years, that peace you could never find, because people like you are born sick, that’s what you’ve been told your whole life.

“If I tell you, will you absolve me?” you ask, basking in his affection.

James is so sweet, so caring. You wish this moment could last forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, my love. I’ve sinned too much myself.”

“My bad.” you giggle.

Silence falls on you, and you hum in though, pondering your next words very carefully.

“I don’t do them for any reasons, other than they feel good. It feels good to drink, to smoke, to fuck you, to suck your cock.”, you say, and he blushes in embarrassment, “Or maybe I never got over my teenage phase and I just like doing all the things my parents always told me not to do, who knows. Trauma? Maybe. Spite? Quite possibly. I don’t even know at this point.”

He nods slowly.

He wishes you could see yourself through his eyes, see how perfect you are. In his heart, there’s only love for you, in his mind, no more conflict.

“I do them for you.” he answers, and you smile at him, “And for myself, I guess. I thought I had found my way, but maybe I was wrong.”

You turn to look at him, and bop his nose.

“I’ll always love you, no matter what choice you make. I’ll wait for you if you ask me to.”

But his choice has been made already.

He doesn’t deserve his collar, but hopefully he deserves you.

I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Please, reblog if you liked it and leave a comment. Feedback is always appreciated. 🤍

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simonsrosebud · 4 years

Text

the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is, pt. 3

part one two four five

kevin has a talk with them the next morning before practice. or more of just him storming into the lounge and going off. the four freshman are there, too, but he doesn’t quite care.

“dalton isn’t fucked up like the rest of us! there’s a reason i didn’t want any of you meeting or even knowing about him and it’s not because i hadn’t fucking come out yet. he’s not a fox, and he’s not even thea. he’s not involved with exy, he doesn’t know about riko and me and the moriyama’s and the rest! there’s a lot of shit he doesn’t know about yet and none of you had the right throwing it all out in the air last night just to have a fucking laugh. tell me, was it funny? was it fucking funny getting him shitfaced just to get some answers and take the piss?!”

dan stands, and kevin holds a hand out. she looks to andrew, but his silence sides him with kevin. “kevin, we were just trying to-“

“you have no excuses, dan. none of you do. you were trying to make a fool of me and my boyfriend for nothing. and now, i have to go cure his curiosity of the things you all said.” and he storms out.

wymack doesn’t stop him. if anything, he looks mad at those left. “the fuck did you do to him to make him skip practice?! you realize that’s never happened so long as he’s lived, right?! we don’t have protocol for the day kevin skips exy.”

meanwhile, dalton doesn’t actually have that many questions. the numbing of alcohol for a face tattoo is understandable, especially knowing that kevin’s sober and therefore must have had a problem. the cracker dust he asks about just because he doesn’t know what it is- he doesn’t like it, but trusts kevin that he’s done with it. he’s seen the scar along kevin’s hand, he already assumed it was from a surgery. the edgar allen thing was too vague for him to be curious about, but he does ask- not about, the father comment, but if he’s okay about it. kevin tells him this much; that he transferred from edgar allen to palmetto because he’d known for a few years that wymack was his father, and that he didn’t have the courage to tell him until last year.

kevin thanks the gods that dalton doesn’t ask about or seem to remember any mention of the yakuza.

they’re at kevin’s suite because he knows they’ll have a few hours by themselves with everyone at the stadium, but only an hour in there’s knocking on the door. dalton has his lips on kevin’s- he’d just said how he likes having access to his “real smile”. “gonna get it?” kevin shakes his head. the knocking starts again.

“come on, kevin! we’re sorry! just open up for a second!”

kevin knows dalton likes when he speaks french, so he sighs and kisses him before whispering, “i hate them all.”

dan is at his door with matt and allison in tow. “what do you want?”

“to apologize.” kevin raises his eyebrows. “look, we take the piss a lot and you never seemed to be visibly affected by it, so we didn’t realize that last night was upsetting you until you left.”

“you said never have i ever seen kevin have a meltdown. why do you think you’ve seen that? because i’m a toddler? you know what i’ve had my reasons.” riko. the moriyamas.

“i know. look, we don’t want to give you excuses. i-i don’t have an explanation. you’ve always kind of let us take the piss without saying anything, and we took it too far, especially last night. andrew looked like he wanted to kill nicky for the yakuza comment, but neil talked to him about it before we went to the stadium this morning,” she whispers the last part because she’s not stupid, and kevin huffs.

matt jumps in. “we wanna make it up to you, man. you’ve obviously hid him from us for a reason and we proved you right.” kevin honestly wants to get back to dalton and he wants it to just be over with. “bring him to the winter banquet, we’ll be nice. if anyone says anything i’ll punch em. neil will chew em out.”

kevin grimaces. the ravens will be at the banquet. it’s in just over a month, the second week of december. he’ll have to tell dalton some things by then. and he might have to say something to the public.

he doesn’t tell him anything. not yet, at least. he still has three weeks until the banquet- he hasn’t even asked dalton yet. he starts to like away games a little more than before, though. he gets dalton a little postcard from every new state they go to. he tapes them all to one of the walls of his room.

he’s on the phone with dalton at an airport general store, even, when he gets interrupted by two girls. he puts on his press smile before he even notices. “hold on, d.”

he doesn’t love fan interactions.

when they leave, dalton asks him with amusement if he’s got fans now, and kevin kind of decides he should probably tell him some more about his life because jesus, does he have fans. he needs to tell him about he and riko. what they were, what they were to fans of exy, what kevin was to fans of exy. what kevin was to riko- without involving the yakuza.

but he doesn’t, because dalton never brings up the topic of “fans” again.

he doesn’t tell him until a week later, when he wakes up from a nightmare.

dalton’s leaning over him, speaking, but all kevin sees is riko riko riko. it takes all of two seconds for dalton to back off.

“hey, hey, it’s me, it’s dalton. you’re safe, you’re in my apartment. no one else is here, i promise.”

kevin’s breathing so hard, dalton flicks the lamp on and he just crumbles. he sits up and presses his hands over his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

“can i touch you?” he nods. dalton’s sitting at his side, cross legged, and gently pulls kevin’s hands off his eyes. “you don’t have to be sorry. i know there’s shit in here,” he lightly lifts his hands to hold kevin’s face and taps his temple with a finger, “i don’t need to know what it is, just know you don’t have to apologize for it, and know you’re safe.”

kevin nods and twists to hug him. and dalton wraps his arms securely around kevin’s back. he presses a kiss to the top of his head and mumbles “c’mere” to prompt kevin into climbing into his lap.

dalton slides his fingers through kevin’s hair and it’s just so soothing, it nearly puts him to sleep. and when dalton lays back down kevin stays wrapped around him with his cheek pressed to his chest.

when kevin wakes up it’s to find they’ve switched positions overnight. dalton’s got his arm lazily draped over kevin’s waist, almost holding him close like a pillow. his ankle is thrown over kevin’s, and his head is pressed into the back of kevin’s neck.

kevin doesn’t want to move. in fact, he stays so still so as to not wake dalton, that when he stirs kevin just shushes him and pulls dalton’s arm back around him. he holds his hand close to his chest.

dalton’s not stupid. he knows kevin’s awake and nuzzles himself closer. “you like being cuddled.”

“you’re the one doing it, not me.” but he definitely tilts further into the pillow to expose his neck when dalton starts kissing up the side.

“you like being the little spoon.” and pushes himself up over kevin. “you like when you’re on the bottom, kev.” he kisses him deep into the mattress despite morning breath, and noses down his neck. “i like it.”

kevin tugs at dalton’s hair. “and what… what about it?”

ahaha. aha. sex.

anyway.

he tells dalton everything afterwards. he leaves out the yakuza part, and the fact of neil’s past, because that’s another monster. but he tells him the rest. who his mother is and why he’s such a big deal in the exy world; why he really left edgar allen and came to the foxes; the tattoo that’s buried under his chess piece and what it meant. what his relationship with riko was really like, and everything about their past and the abuse he endured.

and he fills him in on what triggers him because of that: small pitch black rooms, confined spaces without an easy way out, holding his hand too tight, the mention of riko moriyama, a lot of other things.

and dalton stays.

so kevin asks him to the banquet. when he says yes, he asks wymack for help arranging an interview. there are enough people and press lingering outside the exy banquets, and he’d like to hold his boyfriend’s hand on the way in this year.

it’s scheduled to be live the morning before the banquet. it’s with sophie silletti for espn college exy, and she posts about it as soon as it’s booked.

kevin sits with her. it’s nothing like kathy ferdinand. they talk strictly about exy and eventually, with his pre-approved questions, she brings up thea’s team’s most recent game. “and forgive me if i’m wrong, but you and thea muldani split recently, yes?”

kevin nods. “back in may, i’d say. we’re still friendly, i have the utmost respect towards her. in the end it just didn’t work out.” i haven’t talked to her in months.

sophie nods. “everything happens for a reason, i’d like to think.”

“of course. it wouldn’t have led me elsewhere.”

“is that hinting at something? i feel we don’t normally talk about this, but does kevin day have someone new in his love life?”

kevin palms are sweating. he hopes his face isn’t red with nerves. “i do, actually. i won’t say anything about him for his own privacy” i don’t want the public’s prying eyes “but we’ve been together for a bit, now.”

sophie is grinning, she feigns surprise. “i heard you say him, did i not? anything else to tell us?”

he keeps his smile easy, but he can feel the worry in the back of his head telling himself they can see right through it. “if you’re asking, then sure. i’m a bisexual man, so yes, my partner is also a man. this is the first time i’ve ever announced it to the public, actually.” as if that wasn’t the whole point of today.

“at least your fangirls can keep their hopes up, then, yeah? still got a 50/50 shot! and i’ve got to say, i feel honored you trusted me and my show with a milestone like this. coming out certainly is a big deal, or at least nerve wracking! how do you feel?” she laughs. “is it like a weight lifted from your shoulders?”

“i was never too stressed about it.” lies. “some will hate, sure, but my job is the game. if my fans are true then this won’t change that. speaking of,” and then it’s back to exy.

wymack drives them back to palmetto, and when they’re close enough he says, “i’m proud of you for doing that.”

“thanks.”

“where am i dropping you off?”

kevin knows andrew and neil probably watched the interview, and he doesn’t feel like dealing with whatever they’ve got to say about it. so wymack drops him at dalton’s who hugs him as soon as he opens the door.

“you watched?”

“of course.” he kisses his cheek.

all posts/updates relating to this au can be found in the “OC: dalton miller” tag!

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