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#will i ever have the guts to get this tattooed? probably not
opens-up-4-nobody · 11 months
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:-P
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ode2rin · 20 days
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1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ
summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.
content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread
💭 masterlist | next part
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“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”
Your ears were ringing.
After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.
“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.
Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.
Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.
Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.
You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.
“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.
“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.
“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”
“We?”
“Kaiser is downstairs.”
Of course, he is. 
Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.
You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 
If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.
“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.
The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.
“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”
In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”
“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”
“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”
Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.
Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”
“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.
“Fuck off.” 
“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.
You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.
You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.
You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.
Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.
If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.
Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.
“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.
“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.
“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”
Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.
“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.
Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”
“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.
Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.
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It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.
Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.
Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.
But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.
“I swear to god this better be important–”
“Get ready,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“Look out your window.”
Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.
Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.
“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.
You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.
It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.
It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.
“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”
He’s taking me to it? “Why?”
Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.
“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.
You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 
The first one today.
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Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.
But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.
You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.
And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.
“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.
Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?
“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”
Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.
Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.
“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”
“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 
Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.
Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.
It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.
You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”
Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”
Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 
“Call me by my name.”
“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”
“The one you used to call me.”
Mikka.
It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.
You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.
“I’m Michael.”
“That’s… long.”
“What?”
“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”
“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.
“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.
He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.
“Same thing.”
“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”
“Your point?” you countered.
“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.
“He was nice to me!”
“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”
You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.
“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.
Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.
“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”
“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.
“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”
“And you? Are you a gentleman?”
Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.
Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.
Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.
When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”
He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.
“Especially not one, doll.”
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“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.
Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.
The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 
Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.
Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.
He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.
“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.
The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.
“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 
From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.
After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.
You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.
Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.
Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.
As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).
“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.
“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.
“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”
Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”
You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.
But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.
“You should be flattered.”
Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”
“Accepted.”
If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.
At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 
You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”
The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”
“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”
“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.
If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.
Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.
Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.
“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”
If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.
You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.
Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”
“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 
“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”
You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”
“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.
Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.
You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.
“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.
“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 
“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.
Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.
You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.
“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.
Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 
Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 
Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 
And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.
But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 
If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.
Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.
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“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 
Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.
You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.
“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.
“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”
“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”
“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.
“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”
“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.
Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.
“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”
What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.
“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”
“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”
The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”
“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”
What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.
He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 
And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 
His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.
Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.
Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.
“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 
As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.
“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.
Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.
“Easy, doll.” 
Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.
Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.
Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”
The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.
Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 
Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.
He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.
Damn it, doll.
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Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.
Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.
The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.
It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.
Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.
It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 
The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 
What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?
Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.
Just then, a knock on the door startled you.
“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”
It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.
Shit.
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note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!
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roanniom · 2 years
Note
being bold and deciding to make the first move by kissing his rings before you push his hand up your skirt 🤭
Distracted
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
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You're a friend of Robin's whose been in his world peripherally for a while. Like you've gone to the same parties and you've hung out at Family Video and seen him when he brought the teens in to see Steve after Hellfire sessions. You've only hung out in groups and your conversations, though extremely flirty, have been pretty surface level.
But you've got a thing for the quirky metalhead. Not only is he a fucking babe, but he also seems genuinely sweet and is very funny. When you bring this up to Robin, however, you aren't prepared for how she lights up, telling you that Eddie's been asking about you, too. Ever the matchmaker, Robin pushes you into a plot that makes it so that you and Eddie end up alone at his place on a Saturday night (initial group plans are bailed on last minute by all the teens who were threatened within an inch of their life not to actually show up).
Eddie seems unfazed by this turn of events and takes it in stride, cracking open a six pack for the two of you to share and throwing on a horror movie.
"If you want to bail, too, that's cool," he lets you know, even as you plop down beside him on the couch, beer in hand. He's got a self-deprecating smile on his face. "I'm sure hanging out alone with the town freak wasn't exactly on your agenda this week."
"Don't presume to know my agenda, Munson," you tsk, feigning a frown that is already curling around the edges into the smile you can't suppress. "You know how type A I am. I won't have you questioning my to-do list."
You apply the innuendo lightly, but the way his eyebrow quirks lets you know that it lands as you'd intended. Eddie runs his tongue over his teeth while appraising you.
"I wouldn't dare get in the way of your efficiency, sweetheart." There's a dare in his eyes, but you lean back against the couch and watch him over the top of your bottle as you take a sip. You've got time.
As the night goes on, the two of you drink and laugh and tease one another. One movie ends and he puts on the sequel immediately. Some slasher where kids are running around screaming in the woods. The two of you discuss what your own strategy would be if you found yourselves in a similar situation. At this point, you're feeling loose and floaty - combination of the alcohol and the sound of Eddie's laughter. It's got bubbles fizzing in your bloodstream. Your bodies have shifted closer on the couch as time has gone on, and as he emphatically describes something, his hand comes down to press onto your knee. Seemingly just as a matter of emphasis and to ground your attention in his point, but you notice that his hand doesn't lift up when he finishes his monologue.
A thrill of possessive pleasure runs through your body at the realization.
"You know, you'd probably die somewhere around the halfway point of the movie," you challenge suddenly and Eddie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"I'm sorry, princess, but what?!"
"You know because you're all..." you gesture to his body. The denim vest he's still wearing over his band tee even though he's relaxing at home. The tattoos. The heavy rings on the hand that's still resting on your knee. His fingers flex against your skin when you point at them.
"I'm a badass, you mean? What about my badassery makes you think I'm dying at all?"
"The cool guys always die at the midpoint," you argue. "They get distracted having sex with the hot girls and that's when the killer guts them." Exactly as you say this, as if the universe is trying to bolster your argument, a young man on screen is stabbed through the back mid-thrust, falling down bloody upon his shrieking lover. You glance away from the screen and back at Eddie with a satisfied smirk. "Case in point."
"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm cool," Eddie says with a smug smirk. You roll your eyes at him but shift a bit closer.
"I also said you'd die fucking a bimbo."
"No, you said I'd die fucking a hot girl," he corrects, also shifting infinitesimally closer.
"Oh, so you were listening," you tease. Your hand rests on top of his hand on your knee and you start fiddling with his rings.
"Yeah, and I guess that means you should be concerned," he says flippantly, his fingers splaying out on your knee so that yours have more space to move between them. You're now distracted by the attention you're focusing on his hand.
"Why should I be concerned?"
"Because the hot girl getting fucked by the cool guy dies next," he says, nodding his head towards the tv you had all but forgotten about just as a young woman running topless through the woods, her breasts swinging and covered in her dead boyfriend's blood, is cut down by the killer. You both laugh.
"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm hot," you say turning back to him and mimicking his prior comment. His face lights up with a grin.
"Guilty as charged, sweetheart."
The moment feels right. The electricity between the two of you is palpable and you lift his hand up off your knee and towards your lips.
"They only get got, though, because they get distracted," you posit, pressing a kiss to each of Eddie's rings. His eyes are trained on your lips, his own parted to let his suddenly shallow breathing pass through. "Do you think you could keep from getting distracted?"
"Uh...yeah," Eddie says, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "Yeah I'm sure I could stay focused. Vigilant."
"Oh yeah?" you ask, smiling at how he's already so distracted. Suddenly you're lowering his hand and bringing it to the top of your thigh, right at the hem of your skirt. He takes a sharp inhale. "What's that? Losing focus?"
"No. Never, sweetheart," he says with a laugh, though it's shaky. Without even losing a beat his fingers flex in your hand, the pad of his thumb caressing at the skin of your thigh that he's never touched till now.
"What about now?" you ask, abruptly pushing his hand up your skirt to rest on your clothed pussy.
Before you can even process the next heartbeat, Eddie is on you. His mouth is capturing yours in a soul searing kiss and you can't help but gasp into him. Taking in his taste and scent all at the same heady time. Your hand abandons his on your mound and you bring your arms up around his neck to pull him as close to you as possible.
"If I die, I fucking die,” Eddie practically growls against your lips. “Distract me, baby.”
You laugh but he dips his head down to nips at your collar bone and it turns into a moan. Eddie’s hand starts rubbing blindly at your slit through your panties and you find your hips moving against his fingers of their own accord.
“Do horror movies turn you on?” Eddie teases. You bite your lip and shake your head, looking him dead in the eye.
“No, you turn me on, Eddie Munson.”
Suddenly you’re being pushed back down against the couch. The abruptness of his manhandling has you squealing and you lock your arms around his neck, being sure to keep him close and bringing him down with you.
His kiss arrests your lips again, his tongue invading your mouth. It’s everything you ever wanted. It’s what you’d imagined each time you’d watched him from the other side of a party or listened to him joking around with your mutual friends.
All of his attention. All of his focus on you.
What you don’t realize is that it’s always been on you. At those parties and those hang outs, as much as you’d watched him, he’d been watching you. Learned to love your smile and how quick you were to laugh. Catalogued your stories in the back of his mind as you told them to a riveted audience of all the teens.
He’s finally getting to touch you the way he’s always wanted. And it’s working him up faster than he’d like to admit.
You shift on the couch and it gives him more room to slot his body between your opened thighs. When his hard, denim-covered bulge presses against your thigh, your hips buck, pushing up into the palm which has been applying pressure to your pussy.
“Remember that agenda?” You ask with a tremor in your voice. His hand slips under the elastic of your panties, fingers making direct contacted with your slick core for the first time. You both groan.
“Um…yeah.” He says, shaking his head as if to clear it in order to comprehend your words. The tip of a finger circles your clit before sliding down to push into your hole. You gasp. “Your to-do list.”
“You’re at the top,” you gasp out.
There’s a moment where a Eddie doesn’t react. He’s so focused on pumping his finger in and out of your tight pussy, feeling you around him. Watching your chest rise and fall. But when your words make sense he throws back his head and let’s out a bellowing laugh. His laugh makes you laugh and then you’re shaking in one another’s arms. Trying to calm down. The shared vibrations of your joint hysteria seeming to wreak havoc on all of your nerve endings.
Eddie lunges forward and begins sucking at your neck and the tops of your breasts exposed by your low neckline. Just as he adds another finger to your pussy.
“I can be efficient, too, you know,” he says before worrying your skin between his lips.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you be efficient with your shirt off?” You ask, fingers scrabbling at the hem of the garment. Eddie sits up quickly and yanks the shirt off with unnecessary, theatrical aggression, tossing it away as if it’s offended him. You reach out and trace the tattoos on his chest and he moves to lower himself back over you.
“Mmm, cool guy,” you hum, your fingers passing delicately over his inked skin. Eddie quickly unbuttons your blouse and pulls it open, gazing hungry down at your bra-clad breasts.
“Hot girl,” he responds, pressing his face juvenilely between your tits. You grasp at the hair at the back of his neck and laugh until you feel him beginning to suck on you. Then your hips are rolling into his hand. The hand that’s started to fuck you in earnest. “You look like you’re more distracted than me right now, sweetheart. Maybe you’ll be dying before me after all. That petite mort, huh?”
You’re laughing and gasping all at once. His French accent is atrocious but he’s referencing a conversation you’d had with him and Robin about orgasms the week prior. You hadn’t thought he’d been paying attention since he’d been half in argument with Steve at the time, but now you know otherwise.
“You we’re listening to that? Was - fuck - pretty sure you were focused on whatever Harrington was saying.”
“I’m always focused on you, sweetheart.”
You feel heat creeping through your body as fondness mixes with arousal. You’re impatient and you both push and pull at him all at once.
“Ok I just need you to fuck me, ok? Can we jump to that?”
“Nuh uh, I’m making you cum first.” His thumb presses harder circles into your clit and you cry out. But you shake your head dramatically side to side.
“No I want you inside me now.”
“That’s a bit pushy of you, isn’t it?” Eddie teases, but as he does so he eases his fingers out of you and brings them up to lick off your slick. You’re already unbuckling his belt and pushing down his jeans.
“No, I’m efficient. Type A, remember?” His cock springs free of his boxers and you’re ready to drool. He’s practically edible, and if you weren’t so fucking on the edge right now you’d swallow him while immediately.
“How could I forget,” he responds, voice full of gravel as he grabs his cock and pumps one twice. You lay back against the couch, legs splayed and waiting for him, divesting yourself of your bra and cupping your breasts to keep yourself worked up. “Fuck you’re a pretty picture.”
“Gonna just stare or are you gonna do something, Munson?”
“See? Pushy,” he says, even as he lowers himself on top of you and pushes his tip right into your entrance.
The teasing stops as you both come together with rolling hips and gasping breaths. His thrusts are hard and definitive and you find yourself holding on for dear life. He feels so good and right and heavy and strong and you’re so close so soon.
“Eddie…Jesus Christ I’m…” your eyes are squeezed shut and he kisses your eye lids, paradoxically sweet when juxtaposed with the harsh way he’s pounding into you.
“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, and there’s playful mocking in his tone. If you couldn’t feel his muscles shaking, proving he is equally close, you would have felt more shame.
“Y-yeah…gonna cum.” You admit it on a whine. He feels so good and then suddenly his finger is between you, swirling over your clit again.
“Already? I guess that’s efficient of you,” he says and you clench hard when you laugh, making him let out a loud moan.
“Stop - fuck! You can’t clench like that,” he admonishes.
“Stop making me laugh then, asshole,” you say with no bite. He, however, bites your neck and laves his tongue over the skin.
“Mmmm, you’re sexy when you’re mean.”
You’re not sure what does it - his thrusts, his finger on your clit, his teasing - but one moment you’re rolling your hips into his and the next you’re writhing beneath him, cumming harder than you ever have before. You practically black out calling his name, so much so that you don’t even notice when he cums along right after you.
You come back to your senses to find him still inside you, trailing kisses up and down your throat and chest. You take a deep shuddering breath and grip weakly at his back.
“You gotta get up,” you say, pushing weakly at him with not intent behind the motion. Eddie shakes his head and buries it into your neck.
“Never.”
“I gotta get up and cross you off my checklist.” You tease with a breathless laugh which he returns.
“You can’t. We were so distracted the killer got us. We’re dead, remember?” His grin is so wide one of your trembling hands lifts automatically to trace his dimples.
“Fuck. The downside to being cool and hot is pretty disproportionate to the upside.”
“Speak for yourself,” he snorts, letting his hand come up to cup your jaw. “I’m staring at a pretty big upside.”
~*~
Tiny tag list (will come back later and add more people): @sacklerscumrag @theoncrayjoy @millenialcatlady @xxcatrenxx @cowboy-kylo
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jungkookstatts · 1 year
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University Superstar
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[Summary]: Jeon Jungkook is your University’s biggest rock-star-athlete-hot guy. It literally prides itself on his attendance at the school — walking around with his “big name” (captain of the lacrosse team), tattoos, and rude, jock-like personality. You hate him. You hate that he can’t apologize for being a complete asshole. But what you don’t hate is how he visits your office every day. You also don’t hate that your feelings for him are crawling back into your system…
[Theme]: Jock!Jk, LacrossePlayer!JK x TeacherIntern!Y/N, Friends(?)ToLovers!AU, EnimeisToLovers!AU
[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, lots of hickies, mentions of blowjob, consistent flirting, JK is an extreme asshole (he actually got on my nerves for some of it lol), insensitive JK, lots of passion, squirting, kissing, pining after one another (mainly JK)
[Word Count]: 10,291
[Author’s Note]: I didn’t plan on making Y/n an education major…? But then I was thinking of JK in a bomber jacket and jock x teacher!AU and…yeah no, it had to happen.
[Masterlist] [Sequel] [Drabble (1), (2), (3)]  
Jeon Jungkook.
The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.
“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-sprit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.
“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”
“In your dreams, fuckboy,” you scoff. The audacity he has to ask you out. The audacity he has to find the school you intern at (literally on your universities campus, but still), interrupt your work, and ask you on a date for the nth time since a few weeks ago.
You think this might be the 5th time this week he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.
The amount of explaining you still have to do to your coworkers, and even your kindergartner students, is exhausting. Everyone knows who he is. He’s the captain of your Universities lacrosse team, probably the most popular guy on campus…one of “the hottest” guys in the school (according to your coworker and best friend, Aecha)
You remember asking her a while back why he was always “the talk of the town”, and all she could say was: “Well, look at him. How could he not be?”
You get it. He is hot. But that doesn’t stop you from absolutely hating his guts. Not after he spilled his hot, black coffee all over your white shirt and pants a few weeks ago. Not after he stained all of your precious student’s artwork with his scorching hot Americano.
You were on your way to the school to hang them up in your classroom. Stopping at your University library’s coffee shop, you decided to start your day with a little bit of matcha before you decorated your space.
Your students had just completed a “What I Love About Me” project, and their responses literally made you cry…maybe made you ugly cry. So innocent and honest in their responses, this project was probably the most precious to your heart. You had wished you did something like this back when you were so young. Maybe then you would have a reminder on your bad days what younger you always admired before nasty comments and puberty hit your system.
So, when Jeon Jungkook completely drenched them in his black coffee, your stained (and very expensive) white work shirt and pants didn’t even matter. The sopping-wet look of your student’s artwork made you fight to gulp back tears. But you couldn’t help the water that begged to break free from behind your eyelids.
“Oohh!” he laughs, the stupid jock in him making a scene. “Jeez! I’m sorry.” you can feel the antagonizing smirk on his lips as he looks at what he’s done to you. “Here, let me get a napkin,”
Jungkook exits your line of vision and you try to make your way out of the library before he comes back. But, ever the athlete he is, Jungkook is back before you can blink with a giant wad of the coffee shop’s crappy brown napkins.
You don’t even know who is talking to you until you take the napkins from his hands, recognizing those ugly, stupid, hot hand tattoos. Who couldn’t recognize them when the whole university makes Jungkook’s tattoos each and every one of its personality traits?
The realization of your perpetrator being Jeon Jungkook only makes you more upset. Had it been anyone else, the hurt in your heart from your damaged projects might have been less painful.
You immediately start wiping off your student’s projects, placing them on the nearest table and patting them dry, trying your best not to smear the Crayola marker on some of them.
“Woah, hey,” he chuckles to himself again. “Nice line work. Didchya draw those?”
“Please, stop talking.” you spit at him. Finally, you look up at his face, hoping he gets the point.
You think he does, because the minute he catches your gaze, his face freezes. The look adorning your features was angry, but that tear in your eye from what he did to your papers made you really upset. Which, for some reason, made Jungkook's heart clench. Hoping he can’t see the tears trying to break free from your eyelids, you look back down and continue your previous actions.
“I-I, um,” he stutters, his voice much meeker than what it antagonized you with just moments ago. “Look, is there anything I can do? A free drink? New clothes? A personal invitation to Min Yoongi’s New Year’s Party? An escort around the men’s lacrosse team's locker room? …During uniform change?”
“Thanks, but the best thing you can do is leave,” you reply. Just about done drying your projects up the best you can, you gather them in your arms and face the man once again. This time, you stare at his face for more than just a few seconds. You hate that he’s handsome; it only makes it harder to stop looking at the playful smirk forming on his lips from mentioning the men’s locker rooms.
“You sure? Heard this year’s party is supposed to be a banger.” he bribes, the mole under his bottom lip showing as he smiles.
“Min Yoongi is a close friend. I am invited to his parties every year. Now, I have to go—”
“No way?!” he exclaims, the permed dark curls over his eyes bouncing as he places a large hand on your shoulder. You shrug it off, but he acts like he did nothing wrong at all. “How come I haven’t seen you before? I’d totally recognize you. You’re smokin', by the way.”
Your lips and nose cringe at his statement.
“I don’t usually go,” you explain. “Now, please move before I push you out of my way myself.”
“Hah!” he laughs. “Like you could. Hey, are you an elementary teacher or just a shitty artist?”
“I’m not answering that,” you say.
His comment hurts you. This is precious art to you. The fact that he has no regard—didn’t even say sorry meaningfully—for your papers that you are obviously upset about makes your heart sink. All you can see are the faces of your students.
“Okay, well, that offer for a free drink, or clothes, or uh—oh yeah. The men’s locker room deal,” he winks. “Is still on the table.”
“I’ll pass,” you flash a tight-lipped smile his way before brushing a shoulder past him and exiting the library.
The first tear makes its way down your cheek, and you quickly wipe it off before anyone has the chance to see it. You think Jungkook might have through the window of the shop, but you assume he is looking at his order number he placed for a new coffee on the screen above it. It would appear more fitting. He clearly has no care in the world that he did something that made someone else upset. From his own actions. But are you really surprised that he wouldn’t care?
The rest of your walk to the elementary school is filled with blasting music in your headphones and a scowl on your face. What was once sadness is now anger. You’re angry. So fucking angry. Your blood is boiling.
“How could he?” you exclaim as you barge into the teacher’s lounge.
“Woah—” Aecha observes. “Is this a new print or something?” she asks, referring to your white-brown shirt and pants. “Please don’t tell me this is a new ‘thing’? No offense, but it’s kind of ug—”
“No, it’s that stupid Jungkook-jock-fuckboy-asshole-bitch—”
You silently thank an existing god that the kids have off today.
“Jeon Jungkook?” Aecha’s jaw drops.
“Don’t even start. I hate that man. Look what he did,” you seethe, slapping your student’s projects on the table.
“Awww,” Aecha’s eyes go beady, her fingers delicately shifting through the precious artwork. “Did he ruin them?”
“Yes,” you fight the urge to swipe all the shit on the coffee bar onto the floor. “Yes, he did. And now I have to give these back to the kids, hoping that when they’re 15 years older they can actually make out what it's saying.”
“I’m sorry,” she pouts. “That’s really shitty. Did he apologize?” she asks, sorting through the damp papers. “They don’t look too distraught. I can still read them,” she assures you.
“He apologized as the third phrase he said to me. The first was an ‘Oohh!’ accompanied by a mocking laugh and then a ‘jeez!’ Didn’t even realize I didn’t care about my damn shirt until he pointed out how ‘shitty my artwork was’.”
“Wow,” she gapes. “That’s totally Jungkook, that’s for sure,” she nods in agreement, thinking upwards. “You know, now that I’m imagining the scenario, it’s kinda hot.”
“Aecha!”
“Okay listen,”
“No, I won’t.”
“Okay, fine,” she gives up. You dig underneath the coffee cabinet, pulling out a spare hairdryer and plugging it into the wall. Your school is filled with mostly women teachers, so finding something like this in a coffee room is not that unordinary here. The room is soon loud with the sound of the machine as your try to dry them completely. “You going to Yoongi’s party, by the way?” she asks you.
You remember Jungkook’s offer to invite you to said party. You scoff at the memory. What was once a plan to tell Yoongi that you were, in fact, going to attend...is now a “no” from you. Not when you know Jungkook will be there. He is always there, just too drunk to remember you, probably. He even danced with you a few times, grinding on your ass with a beer in his hand and his other on your waist.
You remember it all too well. That was back when you had positive thoughts about the man. But then he became the captain of the lacrosse team. And then he became obsessed with the amount of “get out of jail free” cards he suddenly obtained from his popularity, hotness, and good standing on the school board. When you heard about what he was like from Aecha, your friends, the school news, YouTube, etc., you stopped finding him fancy. You couldn’t see the same man you saw that night. Especially not with how he treated you just an hour ago. Sad, but you washed away any hint of a crush you might've had on him after then.
“No, not anymore,” you reply, loudly speaking over the blow dryer. It is loud enough to where you don’t need to yell, but you wouldn’t be able to hear her response if you both talked normally.
“What?!” she drops her shoulders in disappointment. “But Hoseok is going to be there…you told me you’d go with me if he was!”
You know Aecha has been chasing after Hoseok since she first talked with him at last year's party. She doesn’t know anyone else who is going besides Yoongi and Hoseok. Being they’re both men, she doesn’t know if she feels 100% comfortable going alone, even though you and her both know they would never dare to hurt her or make her feel unsafe. It is more of a girl code—arriving and leaving together—than it is anything else. So you understand.
You had forgotten about said agreement, and you groan in frustration. Now, you have no other choice.
“Y/n, I need to bag this man. I need to,” her voice is laced with determination. “I am like—I am tired of waiting and this is my one last chance and—”
“Okay!” you hush her. “Fine, I’ll go.
She claps her hands and does a happy dance. You wish you could find her reaction endearing, but now you’re dreading the upcoming events of this party.
----
The week is going by fine until you get unexpected amounts of bouquets and Edible Arrangements all addressed to you from…Jungkook. You send them all back, just to get an angered Jungkook storming into your office a few days later.
“You know how expensive those were?!” he half-shouts at you. He quiets his voice, noticing the quiet setting he is in. However, he doesn’t seem to care that he has intruded on your space during your work time. He closes the door to your office anyways, trapping you in it with him.
“How did you get this address…and how do you know I work here?” you interrogate, going back to typing on your computer. The things you type are a mix of keyboard slam and words you’re thinking, faking work at its finest because some abnormally hot jock-asshole needs to make it known that his gifts are not to be returned.
“Min Yoongi is a man of many talents,” he responds. Taking a seat in one of the chairs across from your desk, you watch him as he plays with your nameplate on your desk. “Ms. Y/n L/n. Cute.”
You snatch the gold engraved tag out of his hands and place it back on the desk where it was before. “Please don’t touch my thi—”
“So, you are a teacher, then, I suppose?” he interrupts you. You don’t know it, but Jungkook is really trying here. It took a lot and nothing at all for him to walk in here. Truthfully, he has no idea how to apologize to you. A simple, sincere, “sorry” would probably do it. But he even practiced it in the mirror. Literally impossible. It’s like his mouth was forbidden to say the word without gagging at himself.
Apologizing was never his strong suit. Before coming to college, he was a good boy. Sweet and kind, never once a popular kid until he hit puberty and was suddenly his high school’s prom king. That’s when he started doing things he is not that proud of. It became a habit, but the good boy in him has a hard time practicing apologizing. Mainly because... he never really had to do it before becoming a total high school popular kid and a university super-star player.
But he really fucked up this time. And, he was hoping you would just let it go like people always seem to do when he can’t admit things correctly. But after seeing that tear fall down your face after you left the shop, that clench in his heart followed as you walked away. He couldn't stop thinking about how bad he felt all week. Those really meant something to you and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to admit he was being an asshole.
“I am,” you reply. “You here for some lessons?”
“Stop,” he grins. “Teacher—student sex has always been a fantasy of mine.”
“Please,” you scoff at him. The audacity. “As if I’d fulfill that for you.”
“A man can only dream,” he shrugs.
“Yeah, well keep doing that. What do you want, Jungkook?”
“I want to know why you sent back my flowers. And my Edible Arrangement! I was fighting the urge not to just eat it when I picked it out for you.”
Truthfully, you were too. You love Edible Arrangements.
“Because I don’t want your sympathy because you realized you were an asshole,”
“Why not?”
“Because none of that matters to me. I’m not an ex-girlfriend who caught you cheating on me. I’m just a stranger you met last week. I want an apology. An honest apology from you. And that’s it.” you explain.
Jungkook puffs his cheeks out.
“You’re difficult,” he raises his eyebrows. “I like that,” he smirks at you.
“I don’t have time for your flirting, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes at him, focusing back on your screen. “Please go home.”
The next time he comes in is around 3pm the following day. The kids are out of school by then, but all your coworkers are still here. So is Jungkook, apparently. Aecha tells you he’s been talking it up with the principal since he got here.
You groan, hoping he is just here to speak with the principal and not you. It is a farfetched hope, though. You don’t know what business he has with the principal, or anyone else here besides you, for that matter.
It is around 5 when he barges into your office again. You’re packing up your things, dreams crushed when you thought you could exit work without running into the alleged lacrosse star.
“Hey, sexy,” he flirts, eyeing your flowy, loose, figure-hiding, ugly, dark-brown art dress. You roll your eyes again, knowing he’s making fun of you. It was art day, and you had to wear your paint-stained art-apron dress. It’s the only one you don’t care about other than the shirt he ruined just a week ago.
You ignore his comment, zipping your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
“Reconsidering tutoring?” you mock. Jungkook laughs at you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. You’re really cute when you mock him. It kinda gets him going.
“How’s about 9:00pm next Saturday at Min Yoongi’s?” he asks, trying to get you to go to the party again. Little does he know that you’re going. But you don’t want to amuse him too much.
“Funny,” you banter, making your way to the door. But he blocks your path, his arms resting against the door frame as he stares down at you with those white teeth and bunny eyes. You want to squish his cheek between your forefinger and thumb for reasons you don’t understand. All he has done is make fun of, flirt, and annoy you since you two met. Why do you feel the heat in your cheeks when he slips a finger underneath your chin, dark eyes staring into your soul? Why does your heartbeat in your throat when you look at the glossiness of his lips so close to your own?
You back away, releasing yourself from his flirtatious actions.
“What if I begged on my knees?” he blurts out.
You snort out in laughter at that. The thought of Jungkook: the tall, big guy with tattoos and an award-winning lacrosse scholarship? On his knees in front of you? Begging you to go to some party? That’s rich.
Jungkook blushes harder at your laughs. Fuck, your laugh is so cute. He wants to make you laugh like this a lot. Maybe forever, even. You’re music to his ears.
“What’s so funny?” he chuckles with you. “Think I can’t?”
“Please,” you smile wide, a hand covering your mouth, trying not to muster up any more laughs. “That would be too much. You sure you want to pleasure me?”
Jungkook’s mouth grows dry. Um…yes?? He would, in fact, like to pleasure you. Maybe not in that way, but he’d do it if it meant you were pleased with him. Fuck! If only he could admit things properly.
“Um, no, never mind” he goes against his wish. “I don’t think I could stand the content look on your face.” He totally could??? What the hell is he saying?!?
Jungkook runs a hand through his thick, brown locks, looking at you as you die down your laughter. If only you knew he’s been after you since two New Year’s parties ago. You think he doesn’t remember, but he totally does. The way your hips swayed against his, pressing your ass into his front. He remembers how soft your skin felt underneath his tattooed hand. All he remembered is how he wanted to mark you up, kiss the skin of your lips, neck, and shoulders and claim it as his own. But he had one too many drinks that night, and he found himself passed out on Min Yoongi’s couch the next morning. Jungkook started off the New Year with his clothes on, cheeks flushed, a terrible hangover, and no sight of you anywhere.
He had been trying to find you for a while on campus, but little did he know you were all the way on the opposite side of it in the Education sector. When you didn’t show up to Yoongi’s New Year’s Party the following year, he realized he may never see you again. Until he ruined your clothes. And your valuables. And your heart. And god-knows-what else. If only apologizing didn’t completely break his fragile ego, maybe he would be kissing you right now. Maybe he could have been spending all his time kissing you and holding you every day since the incident.
“Whatever you say, fuckboy,” you smile at him. “Now let me go — and stop coming into my office. It’s annoying.”
“Principle Green is actually so rad, though. I might come back just for him,” he comments, moving out of your way.
“I don’t care who is rad, I don’t want you interrupting my work.”
“Oh, so I’m a distraction?”
“No, you’re a nuisance,”
“Ouch,”
“Goodbye, Jungkook,” you flash him a grin, turning off the lights in your office. You look at Aecha in the teacher's lounge where you exit. She is completely baffled, eyes wide, her mouth dropped, and her bagel falling out of her hands and onto the table. Cream-cheese side down. She heard everything, and you know what she’s thinking.
Luckily, you can leave without either of them making conversation with you.
Entering your car, you let out a huge breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in. You look at yourself in your sun blocker's mirror. Cheeks red and lips cracked from all the laughing, you’re a total mess! As if your crush on Jungkook is coming back. It can’t be. He’s a total asshole now.
But a charming asshole.
Fuck! Stop it, y/n. You can’t do this to yourself.
And so, you don’t. You blast your music and drive away, pretending you don’t see a waving, smiling Jungkook from the school’s entrance in your rearview mirror.
----
Three knocks on your door and an uninvited Jungkook makes his way into your office. Again.
Jeon Jungkook.
The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.
Last night, after Jungkook’s daily visit to your office (one that ended up with a 3-hour conversation about how Thor is the best Avenger next to Spider-Man), you realized that it’s been almost two weeks since you met him in the coffee shop. Almost two weeks and you have yet to receive a proper apology like you had asked him to give you the first time he visited you at work.
This is the 7th visit since two weeks ago, and still no apology. Despite his charm and how easily you were almost tricked into letting it all go, you remembered you were still supposed to be mad at him. And that you should still be mad at him no matter how many bunny-smiles, flirtatious comments, and talks about the Avengers and Principle Green that shoots straight to your heart. And to other places…
“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-spirit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.
“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”
“In your dreams, fuckboy,” you scoff. The audacity he has to ask you out. The audacity he has to find the school you intern at (literally on your universities campus, but still), interrupt your work, and ask you on a date for the nth time since the start of this week.
You think this might be the 5th time since Sunday he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.
“Woah, why the ‘tude?” he defends, putting his palms up as he slides back into his “designated” chair in your office.
“There is no ‘tude.”
“There totally is ‘tude!”
You glare at him from over your laptop screen. "See!” he points at your scowl.
“Jungkook, get out please,” you sigh. You really don’t want to deal with his antics today.
“What? Why?” he asks you. His voice is defensive like you just told him his dick is short and thin. Which, it totally is not by the way. He’d tell you about it, but it doesn’t appear like you’re up for that conversation.
“Because, Jungkook, I’m done with this.”
“With what?" he scoffs. "We’re not even a ‘this’,” he says the last part with finger air quotes.
“Exactly, so please stop visiting me. I don’t want your distractions to make me forget about the fact that you still haven’t apologized.”
“Oh, please, y/n,” he drags out a laugh, slouching on your chair. “I don’t even need to apologize. They were just some shitty drawings. I can assure you that if you go back into that classroom and call an ‘art sesh’ they’d make up a bunch of equally as shitty pieces for you.”
You can feel your fingers nearly breaking the screen of your laptop before shutting it close. You stand up in your seat, motioning your finger toward the door. “Get out.”
Jungkook knows he stepped over the line with that one. He really doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying. He knows those meant something to you! Why is he acting like he doesn’t? Why does he choose to say words that hurt you? It only hurts him, knowing that even though he wants so badly to be the person that comforts you and who tells you you’re okay; saying the opposite is only going to make it worse.
Duh!
Right now, he wants to beat himself up so badly that he’s lost the ability to speak another word.
That clenching feeling he has in his chest is back. He can see the anger in your heart, reaching out to protect the innocence of your students. It’s endearing, really. But he’s in the crossfire. And he’s on the side of your wrath he doesn’t want to be on. He’s the reason you’re protecting your students in their absence. He is the reason why you might never forgive him for this one.
“Y/n, I,” he stutters, standing up. He really thinks he’s about to apologize until something within himself blocks him from doing so again. His heart wants to say it, but his egotistical brain isn’t allowing him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then what did you mean it as?” you ask him. Hands running through your hair, you laugh at yourself in disbelief. “You know, I don’t even know why I’m asking you that. I don’t even know why I expect anything from you at all. All you’ve been doing since you got your damn scholarship and your damn popularity has been treating others like how you are treating me right now. Like their feelings don’t matter, like no one else exists in this world besides Jeon Jungkook. Maybe if you had a project like the one I assigned to my students, then maybe you’d have a reason to look back on what it means to be kind to others. Maybe you’d realize that people get hurt because of people like you. Me included. So please, leave my office and don’t show your face in this school ever again.”
Jungkook is at a loss for words. What can he say? You called his bluff. He taught himself how to block out others as a defense mechanism a long time ago. Its consequence: confidence as a new defense mechanism. Confidence is always good, right? So why it felt wrong when he started showing that side of him 100% more than it was before was beyond him. And, well, this is why it felt so wrong. He's lost the ability to humble himself down. And he hurt you because of it. He’s hurt a lot of people because of it. If only he knew how to balance himself properly.
Jungkook leaves your office, not batting an eye at you, feeling like a student who just got expelled. The jock in him would say it was hot, but that part of him is not there. Nothing but shame fills his body. He feels ashamed of himself. Especially as he catches light of one of the coffee-stained projects on the lounge-room walls.
[I love my _______ because it makes me feel ________] is the prompt. This one had the most outrageous spelling he thinks he’s ever seen. Backward “e”’s and random capitalization and sizing and all. But he makes out “heart’ and “wanted”.
Something in him pulls on his heartstrings again. He can see why those projects meant so much to you. Just that one simple response was enough to feel regret all the way from the follicles of his scalp to his big toe, as if he didn’t regret it already. How is he going to make it up to you? He has no idea. But he can’t lose sight of you, even when he knows he's pissed you off and hurt you. He has to find a way to make it right.
He has to apologize. Sincerely. Like he’s been practicing in the mirror and with his roommates, Taehyung and Jin, for the past two weeks. It’s easier with them. They don’t make his heart beat abnormally fast. They don’t send smiles (other than teasing, antagonizing ones that make him feel embarrassed and give up) that make him want to kiss you until you’re breathless beneath him.
But he needs to. And it needs to happen soon.
----
“So,” you smile at Aecha across your kitchen counter. She’s wearing the skimpiest hot pink dress you have ever seen. No doubt trying to be a tease for Hoseok. No one would guess she’s a preschool teacher with the way she’s dressed. “What’s the plan?”
She turns around, pinning the last bobby pin in her stiff, hair-sprayed-bobby pinned high bun.
“Okay,” she smiles. “We go in, right? Then I see Hoseok. Then we dance. Then we kiss. Then we f—”
“Okay!” you stop her, laughing. “I get it. Go in, dance, fuck. What do I do?”
“Hmmm,” she thinks. “Drink?? Get high? Maybe mock my actions on a certain captain of the lacrosse team…?”
You give her a knowing look.
“I know!” she puts her hands up. “Was just a thought.”
A great thought, at that. You’ve been wanting to jump his bones since three New Year's parties ago. But you’ve long accepted that’s no longer on your agenda. Jungkook has proven to you that he is a lost cause. You can’t expect anything from him, no matter how charming his smile is, no matter how well he dances, or how his touch makes butterflies flow through every vein in your body.
You have to put him in the back of your mind and move on. Maybe tonight you can find someone to do that with.
“You know that guy from Bread Club?” you ask her, fingers pinching the skin between your eyebrows in thought.
“Which one? That club was full of male nerd—oh! The hot one? Park Jimin?” she recalls.
“Yes!” you exclaim. “Him! Do you know if he is coming?”
“Oooooo,” she coos at you. “Does y/n see a potential crush on bread-boy Jimin?”
“Not a crush. Although, he is really handsome.” you blush. “I just never gave him a proper chance.”
“You’re right. I did suspect an underlying mutual attraction. My guess would be that he is going. I’m pretty sure he’s with that whole group. If I’m not mistaken, I want to say he’s Taehyung’s brother. Tae rooms with Jungkook and Jin.”
“Ah,” you nod, understanding the explanation. Although, all you hear is Jungkook. You hate that even his name in a conversation not even about him puts a sad feeling in your heart. You really do pity him. You also really want to forgive him. But after what he said back in your office, you don’t think you have the means to. His words hurt. They always do. But, he doesn’t know how to apologize. At least not to you. You remember how Aecha was surprised when you explained the situation and told her that he still hasn’t apologized since the incident. It made you wonder if you were the only person he refuses to apologize to.
“Okay, I’m ready. We both look hot. Let’s go,” Aecha says, matter-of-fact. She slaps her pocket mirror closed and shoves it into her purse.
----
You arrive at the sickest party Min Yoongi has ever hosted. Jungkook was right, this year’s party is a banger. Endless drinks, endless space for dancing, endless games, and endless men…boy you have many options tonight.
Aecha claps your shoulder in excitement, telling you that she sees her prey. You understand, letting her make her progress towards bagging Hoseok.
You continue smiling until your eyes land on Jungkook’s. He’s at the beer pong table, a beer in one hand and a pong in the other, ready to throw his next shot. Although, his progress towards throwing it stops when he sees you.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep looking at him. Dressed in all black with silver accents accompanying his wrists, ears, eyebrows, and lips. One could say he completely complemented your own outfit.
The fact only makes your heart hurt more. Why? You don’t know. You dropped him. He’s done. Wasn’t even a crush for longer than a day three years ago. Why you’re so hung up on him, you don’t know. The realization has you tearing your eyes away from his man-bun that looks too perfect framing his face, and onto the drinks in the room next to you.
You grab a shot or two. Or three. Or four. But who’s counting? It’s New Year’s Eve, you’re single, have nothing to lose, and have strange feelings toward a man you want to forget. Tonight is the night to get so wasted that you end up achieving that goal.
You think you will be successful when a familiar voice calls your name. Turning around, your eyes meet with Park Jimin’s. The bread-boy. Just the man you wanted to see tonight.
“Jimin!” you hug him. “No way! How long has it been since we baked banana nut bread together?!”
Jimin laughs out loud, hugging you back. “About a year, I’d say,” he smiles. His smile is really cute, reaching from cheek to cheek with that insanely addicting voice of liquid he uses to coat his words. “You’re looking really good tonight, Y/n.” Maybe he will be your saving grace tonight, after all.
“Thanks,” you smile. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
“Glad to know you’re pleased.”
“I am,” you smirk. “Somewhat.”
“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow.
“Come,” you change the subject. For some reason, flirting with Jimin feels wrong. Even though you want parts of him, even though you want to be able to flirt with him, something about it just doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s the intense eyes you feel at the back of your head when you dance on Jimin in the middle of the dance floor. Maybe it’s when you kiss Jimin that you feel as if you’re imagining it’s Jungkook who you’re pressing your lips to.
It’s all wrong. Everything is wrong.
But Jimin touches you like it is right, and you feel somewhat assured until an extra hand is pulling you away from him. Suddenly, you’re drunken vision sees Jimin standing on the dance floor moving farther and farther away from you as this mystery person takes you away from him. Stumbling to keep up with this person’s pace, you turn around and attempt to pry off the strong arm that wraps around your wrist.
“Wha-What do you—who are you?” you ask this person. It isn’t until you realize that the person’s arm is tattooed. It isn’t until you realize that these tattoos are familiar and that they belong to Jeon Jungkook. “Jungkook, let go!”
To which he does, but only when he’s pulled you out of the house and into the alleyway between another house and Yoongi’s. Jungkook pins you against the wall, his forearms pressing against the brick next to your ears.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, voice low and eyes foreboding. Those eyes you’ve never seen before. They’re dark and angry; far, far away from his playful innocent-looking ones. They scare you a little. But you’ve always been good at facing your fears.
“I’m having fun,” you respond, not a smidge of the jitters you're feeling consuming your voice. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t make any mistakes,” he responds.
“Hah!” you laugh, the alcohol causing you to tilt your head back harshly. You forget there’s brick there, and you’re thankful Jungkook’s reflexes are fast enough to slide his hand beneath your head before it smacked against the brick. “You’re so funny, Kook. You know, that’s actually a good idea. Because the last time I danced on someone like that was with you. And I really regret that.”
Jungkook’s heart pangs in his chest, showing how your words affected him so by closing in on you. His face towers over yours, even though he’s been trying to keep his height as level with you as he can by bending his body at his hips to match your own height. But the closer he gets, the taller he becomes, and the more you have to look up in order to look into his eyes.
You can smell the cologne on his body along with the faint smell of booze on his breath. You hate how his scent makes you fawn over him. All you want to do is kiss him silly. But you’re still mad at him. You're still arguing with him right now.
“You don’t,” he scowls, more so at himself for letting it get this far. The sight of Jimin holding you like that when it was supposed to be him made his blood boil. Fury grew in his veins as he realized he needed to make this right. Right now. Before it’s too late and you’re truly moving on.
“And what if I do, Jungkook?” you lower your voice, words feeling heavy on your mouth. “What if I regret letting my feelings continuously be hurt by you?”
“And what if I told you that I regret it,” he holds your chin in his fingers. “Saying those things to you. I do, y/n. I regret it, and I don’t know why I kept saying those things. And I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you.”
You pause at his apology. Are you hearing this right? Did Jeon Jungkook just apologize to you? Twice??
“W-Well,” you stutter. Tears start to brim your eyes again for reasons you don’t understand. Maybe because you’re a crybaby. Maybe because this was your reason for not chasing after the man you liked so much. Maybe because his apology gives you the ‘go’ for smashing your lips onto his, feeling his honey lips collide with yours.
They’re just as soft as you imagined they would be. And god, is he a good kisser. His lips alone make a pool in your panties. Your hands slide around his neck, fingertips intertwining in his tied-up locks.
Jungkook’s body nearly stutters when you kiss him. Out of all things, this was the last he expected. Maybe a well-deserved slap or a kick on the shin, but never the feeling of your embrace.
Nevertheless, he doesn’t complain one bit. He’s been dying to feel you. Your lips on his was an imagery he thought he would never have the chance to live out. But, here you are, holding his body close and kissing him like he is the last person you will ever have the chance to kiss in your life.
Desperation crawls into his veins, lifting you up around his waist, and pressing you against the wall.
He’s been craving this for far too long. Craving you for too long. Jungkook can’t stop touching you, your body is just as soft as he remembered. His curiosity begs him to explore more and more of you. But he’s done enough without your permission. So he waits, continuing to kiss you until you take control.
“I’ve been dying to have you like this,” you say between trailing kisses down to his neck. Jungkook moans as you find his sweet spot, and you think it was the prettiest thing you have ever heard in your lifetime. Sucking on the spot, he raises his chest, trying to control his pleasure but nonetheless fails when you bite down on him.
“Y-Y/n,” he calls out your name, just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles your name on the shell of your ear, and you think you might have gushed arousal out of your cunt. “Not here,” he pants, trapping your chin between his fingers again. He motions your jaw up to his, tempting himself with light scrapes of his lips touching yours. “I don’t want anyone else to see you.”
“Then where?” you whisper back at him. It is so hard not to smash your lips onto his again, but you want this to continue. And if Jungkook wants you where no one but himself can see you, then you’re bound to be wherever that is.
“My place,” he brushes his nose against your cheek before returning your trail of kisses on his neck back to yours. “No one’s home. I brought a car.” He sucks your neck, leaving bruises all over. He's determined to find not just one sweet spot of yours, but to find them all.
“Wh-Why not the car?” you ask between moans. Jungkook is so good at this. He’s suede and smooth with his touches, hot and passionate with his kisses. He knows how to make you puddy in his hands.
Jungkook chuckles in your ear. “Not with the things I want to do to you,” he bites down on your neck, eliciting a sweet panted moan from your throat. “That won’t work.”
“Then let’s go,” you hold his neck firmly in your palms, stopping him from his parade of kisses. “I don’t want to waste more time.”
“Someone’s eager,” Jungkook smirks, kissing you once before setting you down and taking his keys out of his pocket.
“You have no idea.”
----
The ride over to Jungkook’s is spent palming him in the driver’s seat and Jungkook struggling to focus on the road. He’s not as consumed with alcohol as you might be, even though the effects of it on you stopped midway through making out with Jungkook back at Yoongi’s.
You know you’re doomed when the car abruptly stops. His fist pushes the stick into park, and he rips open the car door, walking around the front of it to come over to you.
You’re still tipsy, however. So, when you’re met with Jungkook’s erection right in your face you can’t help but laugh a little.
“What’s so funny?” he asks you, a little pissed off at your laughter. It’s hot.
Trailing a finger on the zipper to his black jeans, you outline the length of his cock slowly, admiring its size right in front of you. You dream of it fucking you, as if the man in front of you wasn’t on a mission to check that off your list right now.
“You’re so big,” you sigh like a teenage girl. “I want you inside of me, Jungkook,” you smirk, looking up at him from the passenger seat. Jungkook swears his heart leaps out of his chest. He thinks his voice might crack if he says another word, so he clears his throat, dick twitching simultaneously, before he responds.
“Then, c’mon,” he takes your hand, pulling you up and out of the car. “We’re here.” Jungkook smiles at you sweetly. He almost thinks that he should just wait until the morning to fuck you because of your tipsy-drunk moment until you’re kissing and palming him again. Jungkook moans into your mouth, stumbling with you toward his townhome’s entrance. Key fob in hand, Jungkook presses it underneath the door nob, hearing a sound of approval from the security system not long after.
“Teasing me in the car,” he growls against your ear, pushing you against the nearest wall once the door to his home shuts. “You think you weren’t going to get punished for that?”
All you can do is moan. Jungkook’s hands waste no time ripping off every piece of clothing you have on, dying to see you in all your glory.
“Holy fuck,” he pants. It’s almost as if he’s cumming his pants right now at the sight of you. “You’re gorgeous, Y/n,”
You can’t help but blush a little, his glare on you makes you think that he’s not actually saying these things about your body. Not this man. Not the ripped, 6-packed athlete with incredible strength and muscles that could pop you with one headlock around the neck. Maybe it's the booze.
“Take your clothes off, fuckboy,” you demand.
Jungkook shimmies off his black blazer, eyes still on your tits. He wants to suck them and leave marks all over the softness of them. He wants you to be completely covered in him tomorrow morning.
“Don’t call me that,” he walks closer to you, trapping your naked body between his half-clothed one. “I’m not a fuckboy.” he replies, taking off his mock-turtle neck tanktop. You thought it was tight enough on him before, but the sight of his muscles underneath the shirt makes you realize that the shirt did not do him enough justice. Never in a million years did you think Jungkook was this ripped. He basically has boobs. He could probably fit into your bra…
“Then what are you?” you ghost against his lips.
He would like to say “yours”, but he remembers that you’re still tipsy. Would you agree to that? Do you still hate him? He'd like to think 'no' considering how you two are both eager to have each other right now, but he's got a lot of things to ask and make up to you before any titles are made. So he holds off.
“We can decide that in the morning,” he settles on, flashing you a small smile before delving into your lips. His chest is firm against yours, his back so wide, you struggle to wrap your arms around it as he leads you to what you assume is his bedroom.
His room is just as you expected it would be. Covered in trophies and pictures, as neat and organized as you expected. But what really catches you off guard is how comfortable his bed is. The smell of him engulfs you as he gently places you on his bed. You think about how this night would be if you decided to fuck in the car. How you wouldn't be able to see this view on top of you so clearly if you did. You’re thankful Jungkook insisted on his bedroom. Now, you can see his handsome face clearly in the lighting of his room as he pulls his pants down to his ankles, leaving himself in a pair of white Calvins. They do nothing to hide the length and girth of his cock, and you shutter knowing that he’s going to completely rip you open.
“Don’t worry, I’ll prep you,” he whispers in your ear, sensing your worry. Jungkook’s lips find your neck again, gently kissing his previously left bruises before leaving more of them on the areas of your clavicle and chest.
“What if I don’t want to be prepped?” you whimper, back arching into his chest when his mouth engulfs your nipple, sucking on it hard. “W-What if I want you ri-right now?”
Jungkook laughs deeply as he twirls your nipple around with his tongue. He releases you with a quick “pop”, which makes your head fall back in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook’s body moving up to come face-to-face with yours. “Patience,” he gives you a quick kiss. “I refuse to hurt you any more than I have already.”
“Jungkook,” you coo, holding his jaw in your palm. He looks ashamed of himself. You’ve never seen this side of him, and it feels good knowing that he does harbor those kinds of feelings. Especially since he is comfortable with you seeing him display them. “I forgive you, Kook.”
“You shouldn’t,” he buries his face in your neck again, kissing you lightly as his hand trails down to your wet cunt. His fingers find your clit. You moan when he starts circling slow infinities on the sensitive bud.
“But I do, Jungkook,” you pant, hand coming up to drag your fingers through his hair. You pull out his bun, watching as his hair falls over the crown of his head and onto your skin. It smells like coconut, and you can’t help but bury your nose in it as he continues to gather your juices on his fingertips.
“I was bad to you,” he grumbles against your neck. This time, his fingers circle your entrance. Legs wrapping around his hips, you invite his fingers inside, to which he obliges. Just his index finger feels you first. Jungkook ruts against the mattress at the feeling, imagining the walls that squeeze his finger tight around his cock. Yeah, you definitely need prepping.
“But, you apologized,” you whisper to him, massaging his scalp. Your hips twitch when he adds another finger. You can’t imagine the size of him in you like this. Two of his massive fingers are enough to make you feel close to cumming around them. He’s going to be the death of you.
Pumping in and out of you, Jungkook moves his head to face yours, his nose kissing your own.
“I’m sorry,” he says once again. “I’m sorry for spilling coffee on you, and being an asshole, and making fun of your student’s art, and showing up at your work, and pissing you off, and making you hate me so much you—”
“J-Jungkook,” you stop him. It’s hard to concentrate on a response when his pace quickens with every mention of something he did wrong, as if he was getting angrier the more he realized how much he did to hurt you.
“All I wanted to do was the opposite of what I did,” he kisses your cheek. “B-But it’s hard for me to face negativity without being cocky and stupid about it. I thought that by making it worse, I could make it better.”
“What a strange tactic,” you chuckle against his cheek. Your heart thumps when he flashes you a smile, telling you with his eyes that he’d never do something like that to you ever again. “I’m proud of you.” You smile.
“S-Stop,” Jungkook adds his thumb to your clit as his fingers continue to fuck you slowly. The addition causes you to arch your back into him. Jungkook takes the opportunity to wrap his arm underneath your spine, holding you secure against his body. “You’re going to make me want to claim you if you say that kind of shit to me.”
“What if I want you to claim me?” you challenge.
Jungkook nearly growls into your neck, fighting the urge to just flip you over and ravage you. “Stop doing that to me, y/n,”
He feels your fingers start to tug at the rim of his boxers, and Jungkook can’t be any more excited to feel you around him. He presses one more finger into you before allowing you to shove his boxers halfway down his thighs.
Jungkook moans at the feeling of your soft fingers around his cock, head falling into the crevice of your neck again. His dick is red and angry and begging to fuck you hard and deep. You swirl the precum that leaks from him and circle it around his cockhead, eliciting a strained moan into the skin by your ear from the man above you. His hips jerk at the sudden movement, preparing themselves to fuck you hard and fast.
“I think I’m ready, Kook,” you whisper into his hair.
Jungkook detaches himself from your neck, standing up to quickly knock off his boxers onto the floor. He takes your calves in his hands, spreading you before his fingertips spread your pussy open slowly. Jungkook takes a long look at you. You're basically drooling from your cunt, the slick creating shiny lines off his fingers as he moves them up and off your pussy. Glistening and pulsing for him to fill you up, he knows you’re going to be a tight fit. The fact only excites him further.
He pulls himself onto the bed, pushing your thighs up with his body. Pumping his cock a few times, he lines you up with his dick, pressing his cockhead against your slick.
“You sure you want this?” he leans down to your face. Your thighs are trapped against your torso, Jungkook folding you up for him nice and good. You appreciate that he doesn’t do a thing without your consent, that he doesn’t dare to do anything unless you’re comfortable. A complete 180 from the emotionally constipated Jungkook you’ve been experiencing for the past two weeks.
You nod to him, looking into his eyes. But this doesn’t satisfy him.
“I need a verbal answer, y/n,” he kisses your cheek, dick rubbing up and down your warm entrance.
“Yes, Jungkook. I want you,” you lean into his cheek.
The feeling of his girth stretching you open is enough for you to dig your nails into the smooth skin of his back. Never in a million years did you think you’d be stretched this good.
He doesn’t go in all the way, letting you adjust to his girth before slipping his length all the way into you.
You swear his tip kisses your cervix. When he pulls out and slams back into you, you can confirm that he did, in fact, kiss it. Jungkook moans against you, gripping your hands in his own and pinning them above your head. His hips are strong, slamming into you with everything he has left in him. You’re a goddess below him, legs around his shoulders, fingers digging into the upper side of his palm, tears streaming down your cheeks as you feel all he is giving you.
“F-Faster,” you beg. Jungkook is happy to obey.
He takes your hips and flips you over, his hands pressing against the upper of your back, pushing your chest down into his sheets. Once satisfied, Jungkook firmly grabs your hips and pistons into you faster, just like you wanted. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, fingers gripping the sheets, legs twitching in resistance as he fucks into you like a madman. His nose is crunched, lip bleeding between his teeth as he tries to hold back his orgasm. Usually, he never feels ready to release this early. But, you’re the girl he’s always wanted. And now you’re in his bed, begging him to fuck you without prepping you and go faster and claim you, and—god, it's all too perfect. You’re too perfect.
Your moans are like honey in his ears, the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He slaps your ass hard—once, twice, so many times. You scream to it all, each one pushing you over the edge.
“This is mine, you hear?” he growls from behind you, gripping your ass in his hand before slapping it again. “You hear me?” he asks again, gripping your hips tighter and forcibly slapping them against his own hips. The impact makes you gush around him, your high following his forcefulness in squirts of your release. You don’t see it, but Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight. No way did you just squirt all over his cock. Can this night get any better?
Maybe it can, because he feels his own release closely following. But he edges himself, pulling out of you to look at the mess you made instead of chasing his high.
You’re so embarrassed, digging your face into your hands as you hear him press his hand into his sopping wet duvet cover.
“I-I’m so sorry,” you whimper. You refuse to meet his eyes, even when he flips you over and sits next to your face.
“C’mere,” he pats his lap.
“Jungkook,” you whine, absolutely mortified. Is he mad? You can’t tell. He hasn’t mentioned anything about your release.
“Baby, come here,” he speaks to you with honey laced in his voice. Your heart thumps at the fact that he called you “baby”. Were your dreams coming true?
You gather yourself and weakly climb onto his lap, immediately digging your face into his shoulder.
“Was that bad? You didn’t cum,” you ask him, voice trembling into his neck. God, this is so mortifying. “I won’t do it again, I pro—”
“Like fucking hell you won’t,” he holds your waist firmly again. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen y/n,” he bites your ear. “It’s taking everything in me not to be gentle with you right now.”
Your eyes meet his hungered ones. You were wrong, and you know it not only from him saying so but also from his pulsating cock below. It is twitching and leaking with so much precum, you almost think that it is his cum itself if it weren’t for the clearness of it. And then you realize that he’s edging himself.
“I-I want this to last longer, but I don’t want to hurt you cause I—” his head falls back in a strained moan when you press a finger to his tip, playing with the precum leaking down himself. “Cause I know I will if you don’t take control of me right now…so, ride me,” he demands.
You kiss his neck, feeling lighter that you made him feel strong enough to nearly lose his control just from your orgasm. With power in your hands, you lift your hips just enough to hover your pussy over his twitching cock, sliding down slowly.
Jungkook’s hands come to your hips again, completely out of breath. “H-Holy shit, y/n,” he gasps when he stares down at his dick disappearing and reappearing as you bounce on his cock. “God, you’re going to murder me, aren’t you?”
You laugh at his comment. Although, he’s far from laughing, focusing all his energy on controlling his orgasm. Face falling into your neck, he’s mumbling things you don’t understand as you massage his sweaty scalp again. He moans at your touch, feeling overly sensitive and extremely, beyond-belief, horny. He wants to cum so bad, but he also wants this to last.
“You can cum, Kook,” you whisper into his scalp. You don’t know if you have it in you to cum again. Squirting is so powerful, and it usually takes everything out of you. But you might, considering you have the strength to ride him to no tomorrow. “It’s okay.”
“N-No,” he breathes against your neck, panting. “Can’t. Want it to last.”
“Don’t worry,” you laugh against his cheek. “I don’t plan on making you a one-night, Jungkook.”
“A-Ah,” his hips twitch into you. “I-um, ffuccck, y/n!” he sways your hips back and forth on his cock rapidly. “Y-You sure? It’s going to be a lot.”
“Mhm,” you smile down at him.
“Fuck, o-okay,” he breathes out shakily. Jungkook then bucks his hips fast into yours from underneath you, unrelenting and ruthless. You feel his hot ropes fill you up just seconds later. For what feels like a full minute of him pumping his cum into you, his face resting against your breasts in fucked-out glory.
You two rest there, letting his cum pool at the connection of your bodies while you rest against each other. What finally breaks you out of your own daze is the sound of fireworks just outside Jungkook's bedroom window.
You can see the array of colors lighting up the sky, his digital clock on his nightstand reading 12:00am.
“Hey,” you whisper into his hair, kissing his sweaty scalp. “Happy New Year.”
Jungkook detaches his cheek from your chest, bringing his face up to graze his nose against yours. Smiling into your lips he whispers,
“I’m gonna make it right, y/n. This will be our year.”
---
[Bonus]
[Aecha]: Hope you got home okay.
[Aecha]: Ended up a little stuck between Hoseok’s thighs.
[Y/n]: Funny story.
[Y/n]: I never made it home last night.
[Aecha]: WHAT?!
[Aecha]: Are you okay??
[Y/n]: More than okay.
y/n sent an image
[Aecha]: No
[Aecha]: Fucking
[Aecha]: Way
[Aecha]: I—AKJDAKSJHFJKASFKLDJSAFKLJSFA!!! Y/N!!!!
[Y/n]: So like.
[Y/n]: I’m no longer a single lady?
[Aecha]: AHHHHHHHHH Y/N!!!!!
[Aecha]: JESUS DID HE LEAVE ANY INCH OF YOUR SKIN Y/S/C?!?
[Y/n]: We had a lot of…catching up to do lol.
[Aecha]: I’d say.
[Aecha]: I’m the maid of honor. Understand me?
[Y/n]: Lol. You got it.
~~
[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
What if, after Vecna is defeated, Eddie lives and is recovering in the hospital and one day he's just gone. Like, Steve and the kids come to visit and his hospital room doesn't even exist anymore. It's just a blank stretch of wall. The nurses, nurses they know worked with Eddie, say they've never heard of Eddie Munson and there's never been a room where the kids insist there was the day before. Anyone else they ask says they've never heard the name, even though it was only weeks ago that the entire town formed a mob to hunt him down. Hopper and Murray look into it and there's no record of an Edward Munson in any database anywhere. His previous arrests are gone, his fingerprints, record of Wayne becoming his legal guardian, his social security number, his birth certificate. Even his Uncle Wayne, gone without a trace. Like neither man ever existed.
They search for years, always hoping for word, or a return, or anything. But Eddie was there one day and gone the next. Apparently forever.
They mourn, all of them. He was part of the group, part of the family, and then he was gone with no fanfare or goodbye. Then he was gone and every force in the world pretended like he'd never been there in the first place.
Steve, quietly, takes it hard. He spends weeks crying himself to sleep, clutching the ruined battle vest to his chest. It's just unfair, is all, Steve thinks. '86 was supposed to be Eddie's year.
Time passes and they all grow up, all move away from Hawkins. Steve and Robin move to Indy; she starts college and Steve gets a job at a little bakery because he's a regular already and they're hiring.
He loves baking, finds it calming in a way very few things are for him anymore. After a few good years, the store becomes his, and he didn't know he could be this happy or satisfied with his life, after everything.
He never stops thinking of Eddie.
Close to Steve's 30th birthday, a little bookstore opens up in the vacant building across the way. Steve sees the owner sometimes, dark hair pulled into a sloppy bun, pale skin, the occasional hint of black ink under his dark clothes. Beautiful. They wave at each other almost every morning and Steve ignores the reminders of Eddie. They're commonplace now. Any man with long dark hair, tattoos, and black clothing stirs a spark of recognition in Steve's gut, and the disappointment still hurts even after a decade.
Weeks pass and Steve notices a new display in the window of the bookstore; those dnd guides all the boys have, the dice with too many sides, the little plastic figures and pots of paints and delicate brushes. He vows, the next time the kids are in town, they'll go over and he'll finally introduce himself to that probably nice man whose only sin was a slight resemblance to a boy from Steve's past.
The kids come for a visit only a few weeks later, and are just as enthusiastic about going to the bookstore as he is to take them. He has them help bake his secret-recipe sugar cookies, decorate them in a dnd theme (Erica and Max say they're dorky, and he agrees, despite being pleased with the results).
Steve heads to the bookstore first, to warn the guy about the veritable horde of feral young adults about to descend on his quiet store.
He walks in to the sound of a gently ringing bell and Metallica playing at low volume on the store's speakers. Steve has to ignore it or he'll walk out.
"Be right with you," a muffled voice calls out.
"Take your time," he responds. He browses with the container of cookies in his arms, taking in all the dnd stuff, the signs about dnd club meetings, the stacks of new release books and a couple cds.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," a soft, husky voice says back at the front of the store. It breaks Steve out in goosebumps.
"Don't worry about it. I'm from the bakery across the street, wanted to finally introduce myself. I brought goodies," he adds, sort of blushing.
He steps back up to the cash register, eyes finally settling on the owner he's only seen from afar and all the breath leaves his body. It leaves him lightheaded, dizzy.
Eddie Munson. Eddie. Munson. Stands behind the counter, hair in a bun with messy tendrils around his face. He looks the exact same. Maybe a few more lines around his mouth and eyes. But the same.
"Ed--Eddie?" Steve's voice croaks out. He barely manages to drop the cookies onto the counter and not the floor.
Eddie's deep brown eyes flood with tears, a hand--every finger with a ring--covers his mouth. "Steve," the other man sobs.
There's no hesitation as Steve flings himself into Eddie's arms, the other man catching him and holding him tight.
Eddie squeezes him, crying against Steve's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeats.
"I can't believe you're real," Steve murmurs between soft sobs, pressing his face against Eddie's neck.
"I'm real. I'm here," Eddie agrees. "I'm right here, sweetheart."
Steve pulls out of the embrace a little, just to look at Eddie's face. To see after all these years. He presses trembling fingers against the line of Eddie's jaw, and the other man leans into the touch, lets Steve trace the contours of his cheeks, his mouth.
"You're here," Steve agrees.
Their eyes lock, drink each other in, ten years of longing dancing at the knobs of Steve's spine.
"They took me away," Eddie says, deep brown of his eyes serious and pleading. "The government. They snuck me out in the middle of the night and forced me and Wayne to adopt new identities, sent us to New Mexico. Monitored us so I couldn't contact any of you. It killed me, Stevie. To be away from you. From Robin. The kids."
That snaps Steve out of his daze. "Oh, shit. The kids."
It's too late, though. The bell at the door jingles, the usual cacophony that accompanies the seven of them filling the little store in an instant.
Dustin's voice rings out, above the others, "this store is so fucking cool."
"Language," Eddie scolds on auto-pilot. When he realizes what he said and why, his eyes wash with new tears.
The kids turn, as one, to the man they never thought they'd see again.
Steve's fingers dance down Eddie's arm, finding his hand, twining their fingers together. Eddie tightens his grip. Steve's never letting go of this man ever again, and he knows with some deep, element certainty that Eddie feels the same.
"Eddie?" Dustin exclaims.
"Hiya, kid." Eddie smiles a little, ducks his head.
"What the fuck," Max says.
"Anyone have time for a story?" Eddie asks. He dashes away the few tears that track down his cheeks.
"We have all the time in the world," Steve agrees. Doesn't think before he lifts Eddie's hand and presses a kiss just below his knuckles.
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crestapex · 5 months
Note
“Simon!! I made some fo-“
Simon:
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I just saw this piece of art by @temeyes. And just like the infamous Grug once said, “I have an idea!” Like, you don’t even know how quick I was to write this.💀 (I’d also like to imagine this as the aftermath after of my other post regarding big boy Simon.) (It also gets slightly, like the smallest amount ever, suggestive towards the end.)
Summary; SFW/SS—(0.9K Words): Simon is quick to disappear after a big dinner, so you set out on the search for him. Seriously, you live in a one story apartment, so how do you even manage to lose a man his size?
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You cross your arms, humming to yourself as you steadily tap your foot on the living room’s hardwood flooring. Your eyes continue to scan everything, from the couch to behind the couch, again and again. You could’ve sworn Simon was right here, in this very flat, all but a few minutes ago—though it feels like you’ve been searching for that man for hours. It’s not like you heard the front door open and close, and it’s not like you heard the back door leading to the balcony open and close either. So where in the bloody hell could he be?
You huff in frustration, your arms dropping to your sides. And so you’re back on the move, trudging off down the narrow hallway. Maybe you should check in the office? Or maybe he would magically appear in the bedroom, probably having decided to nap the rest of the afternoon away? Or maybe you should try calling his name?… Wait, didn’t you already do all that?…
Ugh. And all you wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch a movie with him. Perhaps spend the rest of the night indulging in some sweets you had just waiting to be eaten. Yet, here you are, searching for this beast of a man. Like a needle in a haystack, strangely enough. And true to the whole ‘Ghost’ persona, you supposed.
You brought your fingers up to the bridge of your nose as you passed the kitchen for the second time in a row. You closed your eyes, only for a split second to take a deep breath in. “Okay, Simon. Riley. Where the hell are you-”
Thud!
And another breath—well, gasp would be more like it—out as your foot proceeded to collide with something so firm, yet so soft.
Your hands went up quicker than the speed of light, one firmly planting itself on the wall and the other grasping for dear life onto the doorway. The doorway of the bathroom you would soon learn. The one fucking place you forgot to check.
But the sounds of hard thudding from your hands being slammed against the thick walls was also accompanied by a fairly familiar sound. The sound of a low growl, a grunt and some deep, incomprehensible mumbles. You would’ve assumed you accidentally hit a bear if you weren’t familiar with those sounds, honestly. Well, he may not be a bear, but he was nearly the size of one. So, close enough?
“Jesus Christ, Simon!” You shouted, moving your head downwards to finally come face to face with your ghostly lover. You steadied your stance, lifting your hands up and off the wall. You could only watch as he slightly curled up from the rather heavy hit he just took to his poor gut, but just for a second. Whoops. “…Seriously? This is where you’ve been?”
Simon groaned, obviously not being too happy with his little snooze being so aggressively interrupted. “Bloody hell, love. Are ‘ya tryin’ to mess up another rib?” Despite his obvious annoyance, you couldn’t help but be a little amused, especially with seeing him in such a vulnerable state.
There the beastly man lies, his shirt up to his chest, leaving just the very lower half of his pecks exposed. His large body planted firmly on the bathroom tiles, with any skin and flesh below the lower half of his stomach jutting out from the bathroom doorway. The vast majority of his belly rested firmly on the tiles, most definitely relishing in the refreshing coolness emitting from the bathroom floor. His muscular arms stay splayed out above his shoulders and head, his chin resting lazily on his tattooed forearm. And his eyes firmly held shut. Wow, what an absolute sight to behold.
Okay, so maybe you couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. Even though he was the one in the way and almost messed you up.
“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your hibernation, but I just had a question for you.” You crossed your arms and raised a brow, a smile beginning to form on your face. You couldn’t help but snort and snicker, “You look like a walrus, by the way,” you threw in, still taking in the sight of a truly comfortable Simon in his natural habitat.
“Hm?” He hummed, moving his head to the side to rest on his forearm. Opening one eye just enough to where he could see you. Your eyes crinkled at the sight, as no matter how relaxed he looked, there would always be a hint of that signature Simon Riley grumpiness permanently etched on his brows.
You put your hands on your hips, continuing to look down at your beloved, “Anyways, I was just going to ask if you wanted to move to somewhere more comfortable, like the couch, and watch a movie with me.” You began to kneel down to his level, resting an arm on your thigh and bringing the other to rest on the side of Simon’s tummy, giving him a few light pats, “There’s also dessert waiting if you think you can fit anything else in there.” You just couldn’t stop yourself from lightly chuckling as you began to soothingly run your nails down his side.
A deep, chesty rumble was soon emitted from Simon in response, the sound of pure satisfaction you’ve come to learn. You watched with a raised brow as he began to leisurely flip himself over and onto his back. He then brought his arms down from above his head, one hand moving to rest on his chest and the other placing itself firmly on your thigh.
“Mm’. Dessert, yeah?… Is it you?” He lowly chuckled, licking the very edge of his lips as his eyes narrowed with anticipation. His large hand beginning to gently caress the area. Cheeky bastard.
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strawhbrrries · 11 months
Text
Inked
pairing: tattoo artist!frank castle x afab!reader
summary: frank castle was praised for his work constantly, leading you to get a thigh piece. which then leads you into a problem because your artist is so fucking attractive
warnings: cussing, masturbation (m and f), fingering, frank with no shirt, tattooed frank!!!, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread 
word count: 2732 words
author’s note: this has been a looooong time coming so i'm excited to finally be able to share it with you guys!! i hope it does the drabble that started it some justice. dedicated to the sweet anon that requested it be turned into a full fic! please enjoy! mwah!
tags: @kloofspeaks
inspired by this drabble!
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Your wallet was burning a hole in your pocket, a big gaping tattoo shaped hole. To match the tattoo shaped hole in your wallet was a perfect spot on your thigh just begging to be decorated, but your current artist was booked so far out and you needed it now. 
“Just go to this guy.” Your friend mentioned, giving you the contact information for one of the artists at the studio they frequented. His work was insane, you spent an entire week looking and relooking at all the pictures he posted before ever working up the courage to email him, he was faceless and you assumed he was some old man who’d been in the game a long time.
You couldn’t be more wrong.
“Can I help you?” A deep voice snapped you back to reality, you had gotten side tracked looking at all the art on the wall from all the artists in the studio. The guy you were seeing, Mr. Castle, had the best work though and you were glad your friend had mentioned him. 
You turned around and immediately wanted to hide, a very handsome man with a tall stature was the source of the voice. It made your panties wet and made you want to rub your thighs together to relieve the building tension, not that it would help but you sure could try. He was rugged, in a gorgeous way, his hair was fluffy and fell over his ears but his jaw was sharp and complimented the style. His face was serious, not that he was trying to be but it made you nervous. Made you want to confess every bad thing you’d ever done out of sheer anxiousness, to fill the silence as he waited for your answer. You hoped he wasn’t your artist just for your sake, and maybe for your underwear.
“Yeah, uhm. I have a consultation with Mr. Castle.” Your voice was much softer than his, you looked down to avoid eye contact with him. To avoid spilling your guts to some handsome stranger who was probably married because how could he not be? 
“That’d be me.” For the first time since you saw him a smile appeared on his face, it complimented him more than the stoic look he carried. The blush that arose was almost embarrassing, he thought it was cute. “Just Frank though.”
“Huh?” You stopped listening after he mentioned he was your artist, the blood pumping in your ears being the only sound you heard. Of course you would end up with the world's most attractive man as your artist and of course he was going to be touching all over your legs, this was a cruel dream. You’d practically broken a finger from how hard you were squeezing your hands.
“Just call me Frank, Mr. Castle is my dad and I hate the formality.” He chuckled, writing something on the clipboard he’d been holding. You hadn’t noticed anything below his neck and now you were actively, and very obviously, checking him out.
His arms were veiny and filled with tattoos that disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt and poked back out at the neck before disappearing down his back, it seemed he had one big connecting tattoo but you couldn’t exactly ask him to strip in public. You couldn’t see his legs or his chest but you assumed they were also covered in tattoos, you wanted nothing more to learn about them all. 
“You can just follow me this way, the consultation won’t take long.” He cleared his throat, clearing the awkward air that hung between you. 
He walked to a booth all the way in the back and to the left, pulled the curtain closed after you walked in. Motioning to the chair that sat in the middle of the space you sat down and placed your purse on your lap, mentally cursing yourself for being so fucking awkward. This wasn’t your first tattoo so what was your problem? He was and you knew it. 
“Did you get the email I sent? I know my description of the idea was bad so I can explain it better.” You rambled, watching him sit on the swivel chair next to you and pick up an ipad from the counter that sat in the back. 
“Yeah, let me show you what I drew up and we can go from there.” He looked at you through his hair as he leaned his elbows against his knees, pulling up the drawing. He turned around and the ipad and handed it to you, chuckling when your eyes lit up at the design.
“It’s like you read my mind, holy shit. This is exactly what I envisioned.” For the first time since you saw him your voice was confident and loud, your eyes bright and your mouth a bright smile. He slowly took the ipad back and let out a laugh, god he was attractive.
“It’s what I do. Do you like it, does it need any change? If so I can fix those right now and then I can print it out and we can play with sizes.” He watched your face, he could almost see the gears turning in your head as you processed his words.
“It’s perfect, no changes.” You nodded, smiling big.
He printed out a few sizes and tested each of them against your thigh, he pretended not to notice the blush that only darkened in shade every time he touched you. You appreciated it, trying your best to regulate your breathing and the pounding your heart was doing. You worried if you’d be able to control yourself when it came to the actual tattoo, he would be touching you nonstop for an unknown amount of time. He settled on the middle size, taking up a big chunk of the free space you had but not so much it looked awkwardly big and not too little so it looked too small.
You had trusted him and set the date for your actual tattoo, two weeks from the day you went in. You spent every day and every night for the next two weeks thinking about him. If you were making breakfast you thought about how he liked his bacon cooked, his coffee, or if he even ate it at all. If you were showering you thought about the products he used and if he used a loofah or a rag, if he had separate conditioner and shampoo. When you laid awake at night, hands stuffed in your panties wanting to cry his name, you thought if he was doing the same. Came to the image of his smile and fell asleep to the sound of his voice playing in your mind.
He’d seen thousands of clients, tattooed plenty of attractive women, but nobody had been so stuck in his head like you. After he walked you to the door he went back to his booth, closed the curtain and fucked his hand like a teenage boy. Washed his hands in the bathroom and went to greet his next client like he wasn’t thinking about bending you over the counter. Having you ride him in the tattoo chair. Making you be quiet so no one else heard you. Shit, he was hard again. He didn’t know if his self control was strong enough to avoid hitting on you and being unprofessional the next time you came in. 
The day finally came, you had counted down the days and the minutes until you could see him again. There was this incessant need to see him and try to figure out the mysteries that stood behind Frank Castle. You asked him what kind of coffee he preferred, black, and picked it up on your way to the studio. The nerves were hitting you, not only would you be getting a decent sized tattoo but it’d be done by the most attractive man you’d ever seen. The man you’d spent two weeks masturbating to, this was going to be fun.
“God, this is just what I need this morning.” He groaned, taking the paper cup of coffee out of your hand and taking a long sip. “Typically I try not to drink caffeine on days I’m actually tattooing, makes the hand shake sometimes. I was up late last night so this is a must.”
“And I’m using it to get rid of the shakes.” You joked, taking a sip of your coffee and following him back to the booth. 
You’d opted to wear a yellow sundress, not by choice as it was one of the only clean articles of clothing you had that left your thigh relatively exposed. It was a choice you were now regretting, in the days leading up to the appointment you apparently did everything but laundry. Frank was trying his hardest to ignore it, he was insanely glad he’d walked in front of you. Had he been behind you he’d for sure stared at your ass the entire walk to his booth. He can’t deny that he hadn’t when he made you enter the booth before him, it was a glorious sight. He adjusted his pants before he did anything else, this was going to be a grueling few hours.
He carefully placed the stencil on your thigh, being careful to move the dress up just enough that it wasn’t in the way but not too much so your pussy was on display. He wished it was. He wanted to eat you out like it was his last meal. But he refrained. He’d been on his best behavior so far and he was determined to stay that way, no matter how much he wanted to hike your dress up and pull your panties down to your ankles. Once he finally was satisfied with the stencil placement he asked for your opinion, as it was going on your body forever and not his. You had him adjust the angle once before deciding it was perfect, he had to ask three times before you admitted you didn’t like the original placement.
The tattoo took three hours, three long hours of his hands touching you in the most non-sexual way but yet turning you on ridiculously. You were sure that by the time he’d wrapped your tattoo there was a large stain on the fabric of your panties, a part of you wanted him to see it and know he caused it. The other part was embarrassed. They were fighting to see which part would take over.
“Can I see your tattoos?” You asked softly, an attempt to stay with him longer and avoid going home. You knew you could just book another appointment but what fun would waiting be? You could just stall for as long as you could.
“Oh? Yeah, sure.” His face was shocked, like nobody in the entire world had ever asked to see the intricate tattoo that was drawn across his body. You refused to believe it.
You watched intently as he removed his shirt, your eyes following the lines that were revealed by the lack of fabric. He watched silently as you raked your eyes over his skin, a small hint of a blush covered his cheeks. He’d never had someone so curious about his tattoos and want to see them, it was odd to be the one in the spotlight. 
“Can I touch them?” You looked up at him, moving a bit closer as you waited for his response.
“Yeah…” He breathed out, quiet and waiting for the feeling of your hand on his skin. His breath hitched in his throat the second he felt it, the warmth of your hand felt incredible on his skin. 
You trailed your fingers over every line, starting from the bottom of his left arm and down his chest. Goosebumps followed closely behind your fingers, the contact was something unusual to him. Welcomed, but unusual. He watched you the entire time you marveled at the ink, answering every question you had. He’d had people be interested in the ink before but never to the extent you were, he appreciated it and would think about it forever. He’d think about you forever. 
“Frank…” You whispered, looking up at him as you placed a hand on his chest. 
He looked down at you and groaned, the self control he had was no longer a thing. The pink staining your cheeks and the way your eyes were glazed over and he hadn’t even touched you made him want to do bad things. He wanted to corrupt you, bend you to his will for only him to have. His head dipped down, softly placing his lips against yours. A small whimper escaped your lips as he brought a hand to cup the side of your face, switching positions with you on the counter. Now he had you pressed against it and was able to do whatever he desired.
He nipped at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue across it to soothe any pain. He’d slipped his other hand under your dress at the same time, rubbing the skin just above your panties. You leaned your hip into his touch, bringing the hand that was on his chest to his hair. Using it to ground yourself just a bit, the fact that you were making out with the man you lusted after for two weeks was insane. It felt like a dream.
“Can I touch you?” He mumbled against your lips, playing with the band of your panties. 
You shook your head yes and helped him slide your panties down, stepping out of them and scooting them to the side to be discovered later. He slid his middle finger between your lips, gliding it up and down a minute as he continued kissing you.
“You’re so wet, who did this?” He mocked, circling your clit a few times.
“You did.” You whimpered, trying to grind down against his hand for just a bit more friction.
“That right? Been thinking about me this whole time? Wanted me to help fix your problem?” He slid his middle finger inside of you, curling it against that wonderful spongy spot.
You couldn’t muster up a response no matter how badly you wanted to, his singular finger felt better than any of your fingers had for two weeks. This was everything you wanted and more. He chuckled at you, flattered that him barely doing anything set you off like it had. 
He pumped his finger in and out slowly, watching as your juices coated his finger. Enjoying the moans he was pulling out of you, even if they were trying to entice him into adding another finger. He gave in, the pretty noises you were making he just couldn’t resist. He would do anything in this moment to please you, if you had this effect on him for everything he’d be screwed. He added another finger, kissing along your jawline as he did so. You could’ve seen stars right then and there, if this was how full you felt from just his fingers you could only imagine the fullness from his cock.
He curled his fingers rhythmically with the pumping, using his thumb to circle your clit as best he could. The knot in your stomach that had formed the day you stepped into the studio was bubbling, you could feel it twisting and tightening. Your orgasm was on the tip of your tongue and it felt explosive, three more pumps of his fingers and your vision went white. His name falling off your lips like a mantra, like it was the only name you knew and you didn’t care if the rest of the studio could hear. He was making you feel so fucking good, you could scream it from the rooftops. 
Nearing the end of your orgasm he slowed his fingers down, placing one last kiss to your lips before completely removing them. You whined at the loss, feeling so empty now that they were gone. He smiled softly at the whine, washing his hands in the sink next to the counter before bringing a towel over to help clean up any mess.
“Do you do this with all your clients?” You joked, fixing the sweaty hairs sticking to your forehead.
“No, only you. Step in here in a sundress again and we’ll see what happens.”
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berryhobii · 8 months
Text
Pure(knj x reader) a drabble
Pairing: NonIdol!Kim Namjoon x black!female!reader
Warnings: established relationship, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), slight corruption kink, car sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl, mentions of multiple orgasms, mentions of dom/sub relationship, slight praise kink, begging, mentions of pet play, Namjoon has tattoos because YES, He’s also obsessed with reader in a sweet way, Namjoon’s a tease, reader’s whiny and a good girl
A/N: Hi everyone! This is just a little Drabble I thought of last night. Hope you enjoy!
~
His little slut.
That’s how he’d describe you. Especially with how you were bouncing on his cock in the backseat of his BMW.
Just how did he change this innocent little angel into a cock hungry whore that only had eyes for him? He guessed it just came with dating you. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t pressure you into sex and he certainly didn’t expect it from you. Being able to take you out and see you smile was enough for him; he fell a little more in love everytime you met and now he was deep. In both your guts and in love. It was the best of both worlds. He’s never felt this way about anyone before and only you could make his cock harden this way, only you could make him feel so loved and well taken care of. He doesn’t think he could ever feel this way about anyone else.
Why would he? You were absolutely perfect.
Reason 236: you could ride his cock for hours.
His large tattooed hand slapped down on your jiggling ass, a moan coming from your throat at the sting of pain. But you loved it so much.
Your back was arched, body laying on the center console, the leather heated up against your sweaty skin despite the AC being on. Both of your manicured hands were gripping the headrests of the seats; good thing you sprung for a shorter set this week because your nails could have broken from how hard you were holding on. It didn’t matter though. Namjoon would pay for a new set. Hell, he’d buy you a personal salon if you wanted it.
Namjoon was admiring the view; your ass bouncing, the curve of your back, how your squelching pussy was leaving a wet ring around the base of his cock. Thank god for birth control. He’s only worn a condom with you 4 times. Eventually, you got tired of it and went to get a birth control insert. While Namjoon would never shame a woman for wanting to use protection, he could have jumped for joy when you told him you were on birth control. He ravaged your body like a man starved that first night, not stopping until your legs were shaking and you were begging him to stop.
“Ah shit, don’t stop baby. I’m bout to nut.” He groaned, right hand coming across your your back to grab your left hip, encouraging you to bounce faster. That burning feeling in his own belly was building once again. You’ve already squeezed two orgasms out of him, this third one would probably be his strongest yet.
You weren’t planning on stopping, ass crashing into his thighs even harder, louder moans coming from your mouth. “J-Joonie! Feels so good!”
“My little love….you’re so gorgeous.” He said while running his hand up your back.
The praise went straight to your gut, walls tightening even more around his thick cock. He stretched you out so good, every vein and ridge hitting all of your sweet spots.
A few more bounces and you were screaming—he could feel the wetness hitting his lap. He tossed his head back, moaning as his own orgasm hit him out of nowhere. His hand gripped the back of your neck, forcing you all the way down on his cock and filling you up. Your entire body quaked in his hold, arms dropping behind you to smack at his spread legs as your orgasm overwhelmed you.
As you both came down from your highs, Namjoon patted you twice on the ass. “Show me, baby.”
Whimpering, you lifted off of his softening cock, leaning forward to stand the best you could on weak legs. You lifted your hands to grab your own ass, pulling your cheeks apart to give him a full view of your clenching pussy.
“Push it out.” He demanded, his voice sending a shiver through you.
Embarrassment bubbled in your tummy but your need to be his obedient girl overpowered that. You clenched, pushing his release out of your pussy—it dripped down slowly, his eyes glued to your pussy.
He brought his hands up, moving yours out of the way so he could grope at your ass. “Fuck, you’re sexy.” His thumb brushed over your puckered hole, ideas flooding his head. Should he get you a butt plug? Maybe something with a tail? And some cat ears. He’d make you meow and lick at his cock until you were begging for his cum. Hmmmm…
A little whine came from you, your hips wiggling back and forth to signal your impatience. You honestly hated downtime between orgasms. Namjoon would stop just to tease and admire you which you secretly loved but not at a time like this! He’s been gone for weeks handling work stuff which means you haven’t gotten off in weeks—a strict rule of no touching yourself keeping you in line. But now he was back and you just wanted as much of his cock as possible.
He rubbed at your ass, shushing you, “Patience, little love. Let me look at you.”
“Joonie, pleasssseee. I need your cock.”
If you could see the smirk on his face right now……and he could imagine the pout on your thick lips. Damn, he was getting hard again but he wanted to tease a little more.
“Yeah? Beg for it.”
And like the good girl you were, you did.
“Please please please. I need your cock in my pussy. I’ve missed it so so much. Please give it to me.”
“Hmmm. Well….” His finger poked at your clit before sliding up to slide into your hole, your walls tightening around his digit. “Since you asked so nicely.”
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yunho-1999 · 1 year
Text
I Fucking Hate You
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pairing: badboys¡minwon x fem¡reader
words: 9.3k+
summary: Wonwoo and Mingyu hate each other's guts, but when they discover you've been lying and keeping secrets from them they decide to punish you together. But even then they fight for dominance, making you choose. Who will you end up with?
genre: smut
warnings: mean¡wonwoo, slightly less mean¡mingyu, dom¡wonwoo, dom¡mingyu, cursing, hair pulling, slapping, choking, unprotected sex (don't risk it babes), creampie, angsty af, wonwoo's confused, physical fights, drooling, oral (male receiving), stereotypical representation of bad boys, manhandling (?), motorcycle go very fast, blood, wounds, and probably way more tbh
You couldn't help but stare, your gaze fixed on his neck tattoo, why the fuck was he so hot? Gosh. Jeon Wonwoo would drive you insane one day.
"What are you looking at?" A pair of strong hands landed on your waist, immediately freezing you in place. Kim Mingyu. That was definitely the worst timing for him to appear, now you couldn't ogle at Wonwoo.
"Hm? Me? Nowhere, I was just zoning out" you quickly turned around, making sure Jeon did not see you. It would cause too much trouble if he found you out in that position with Mingyu.
"Why can't I believe you?" He tilted his head, hand now gripping your jaw with strength.
You frowned at that, you hated the ungodly strength that Mingyu had. Because no matter how hard you tried you wouldn't be able to move a single hair.
"Why wouldn't you? Would I lie to you? Do you really think that?" you pouted at him, puppy eyes staring directly into his. Physical strength was his thing, but mental strength was yours. And you knew how to have everyone wrapped around your fingers. At least that's what you thought.
"Hm, I guess you were really zoning out then..." he squished your face a little more before letting go.
"Of course, I would never ever lie to you Mingyu~" you smiled at him, hand gripping onto his arm, slowly caressing the area, making the big boy smile.
"Anyways, I need you to come over this afternoon, I've been feeling really stressed lately, and you know..." his face moved closer, mouth ghosting the skin of your ear "... your pussy cures my stress everytime."
"I can't today" you swallowed hard while anxiously biting on your lower lip. You never denied Mingyu, but this afternoon you had plans already. With none other than Jeon Wonwoo himself.
"What?" He frowned his grip tighter, eyes burning into yours "What did you say?"
"I can't today Mingyu. I- I have a project that I need to finish, it's like really important and it's half of the grade" you put up your best innocent face, trying to convince him.
"Do it while I fuck you. It wouldn't be the first time you finish a project with my cock burried deep inside of you" That was indeed true, and your head was trying to think of another excuse.
"Well, this time it's different, I need to pay full attention. Because this subject is really hard. And I can't simply get a C like last time. I need at least an A" you could notice the obvious frustration radiating from his body, not only that, but the grip on you kept getting harsher. You just wished it wouldn't leave marks.
"You know I would never deny you" Unless Wonwoo is the reason of course "Because you know how much I love having you fuck me. But this time, only this one time I really can't Gyu. Please understand. We can do it tomorrow. Huh? How about that?" your hands moved to his chest drawing little circles.
"I fucking can't tomorrow Y/n." he pushed you away a little too much making you stumble, but you didn't fall down, you only looked at him with a pout.
"Why is it only when you want? I also have things to do Mingyu." you crossed your arms and he sighed. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. See you when you finish this stupid project of yours"
And just like that he walked away making you roll your eyes. How could he be so selfish? It was always about him, and only him.
If it wasn't for the fact that he was really good at fucking you, you probably would have already cut ties with him. Also, it boosted your ego a lot, that none other than Kim Mingyu wanted you.
"What's got you so mad?" a deep voice laughed behind you, and you prayed to God that he didn't see Mingyu walk away from where you where.
"Hm? Nothing, I had an argument with a friend. But who cares, you're here now" you smiled at him while turning around.
"Is that so? Who would even want to fight you? You're so nice, aren't you baby?" his hand moved a strand of hair behind your ear a dumb smile on his face.
"Are you high again?" you asked noticing his giddy mood "When am I not high is the right question to ask baby" he chuckled leaning closer.
"Yeah, I'm stoned as fuuuck" he kissed the tip of your nose and you couldn't help but giggle "I can tell, your breath smells like shit" you joked.
"But you would still kiss me right?" He started leaning too close for your liking in a public space, but for your sake the bell rang "Not right now" you put your hand on his lips gaining a whine "On the other hand, after school, I'll think about it" you winked at him before walking away.
You quickly made your way to class, avoiding at all costs seeing the two boys. Fortunately they were from different grades, so you wouldn't be seeing them, and they shouldn't see each other eith-
"Fuck off!" "You fuck off! You fucking asshole" Wonwoo's hands immediately grabbed Mingyu's collar.
What was a simple collision in the hallway turned into an argument. But of course it did. Mingyu and Wonwoo couldn't stand each other's guts. That's why neither of them knew you were fucking the other. If they did the dead one would probably be you.
"You can't smoke indoors, did you know that? Or has the weed melted your brain cells? If you even had to begin with."
Without thinking much Wonwoo delivered a punch "You're not the one talking about fucking brain cells, you're dumber than an ostrich, and the bitches have like tiny fucking brains"
Mingyu punched back, before some teacher finally stepped in to stop this whole situation, sending both boys to the principals office.
"Y/n, y/n, y/n guess what we just witnessed?" Chan sat besides you excitedly a smile all across his face.
"Let me guess, Mingyu and Wonwoo were fighting. Again." "Bingo!" Vernon sat on your other side laughing when you let out a sigh.
"Are they okay?" Seungkwan frowned at your question from the seat in front of you "Why do you even care? Oh, no. Don't tell me. Y/n!"
"I know I know, 'you shouldn't do that it's gonna get you in trouble'" you mimicked seungkwan's voice.
"One, I do not sound like that-" "You do though" "Shut up! That's not the point Chan. The point is, if they ever find out, not only are they killing each other, they're gonna kill y/n, and I don't know about you, but I do not want my bestie dead. Not because of two jerks" he rolled his eyes.
"I hate to admit it, but Kwan is right... Is it really worth it?" Chan asked you and you hid your face behind your hands.
"Is it worth it?" you repeated to yourself "Two of the hottest dudes in this whole school want to fuck me, I would say that's pretty worth it, not gonna lie" you looked up just to meet their disappointed gazes "Oh come on! Don't look at me like that! It's not like I committed a crime..."
"Your body your choice, and it's your life, so you do you. But I would be careful. They're not good people, and you definitely deserve better" Vernon shrugged his shoulders.
"They're not as bad as you guys think... " you looked away, not handling the way they were staring at you. They were right, and you knew, but your pride was too big to admit that.
"If you say so..." Chan sighed before looking at the teacher, now paying attention to the class. Knowing that you weren't comfortable talking about this.
After a few more hours it was finally time to go home. You stood up as fast as you could, holding onto your backpack and waving goodbye to your friends before going out of the classroom.
You walked with all your speed to the entrance, to leave, but then a hand pulled you closer.
"We're going in my motorcycle." he sounded mad, very mad. And you noticed a little wound on his lip.
"Are you okay?" you asked worried your thumb caressing his hand. You've rarely seen him like that. As Wonwoo was typically more calm and collected than Mingyu. At least around you he was.
"Yeah, yeah. It's just that that fucking jerk Mingyu ruined my whole day. Could you believe he told me what to do? Him? Like who the fuck does he think he is. I want to ruin that fucking pretty boy face he has." you suddenly felt nervous at that, you didn't want him to fight with Mingyu. Not again.
They once had a very big fight, leaving both boys expelled and with pretty ugly bruises. And even scars. At least Mingyu had some.
"Fighting is never a good solution Wonu, last time you ended up really fucked up, and I don't want that" You also didn't want Mingyu to end up hurt.
"I'll be fine babe, don't worry about me. I can take care of myself" he sat you down on his motorcycle and then put on the helmet he carried around for you.
You held onto him with all your strength and he started to drive, quickly moving away from the area. From the distance you saw Mingyu walk away, pushing some people that where on his way.
"Get off" you heard Wonwoo's voice once he parked the vehicle, and you did just as he said, seeing that you were now in front of his apartment.
"Let's go" he held your hand once again, pulling you with him towards the inside of the building, making you sigh slightly. You hated when Wonwoo was in that mood. He usually was way different from Mingyu, unless he was mad at something. And today he was mad at Mingyu. Turning him into a short tempered person. Just like the tall boy.
"Wonu~" you went closer to him, your other hand on his shoulder massaging the area "relax, he's not here anymore. There's no need to be mad" he looked at you with a frown "I'm here with you. No one else. Are you gonna be mad at me?"
"Y/n I'm not in the mood for you to also tell me what the fuck to do or feel. If I wanna be mad. I will. Got it?" you sighed and looked away, nodding slightly.
"Use your words." he squeezed your hand "Yes Wonwoo, I got it"
"Great. Now get inside" he opened the door and you did as he said, seeing his roomate inside. Frowning at that, you thought that the both of you would be alone. Wasn't that the reason he took you there?
"Hi Y/n!" Seungcheol noticed you, approaching with a big smile. You really liked Cheol, he had graduated last year, and you couldn't help but miss him around school sometimes.
He was about to hug you when Wonwoo stepped in between the two, looking at his friend with the worst death glare you had ever seen.
"Go away." he said making the black haired boy scoff "Woah, what's gotten into you?" he poked his friend's chest, making Wonwoo even more mad than before.
"None of your business now move away." he pushed him with extreme force, making Seungcheol stumble and you looked at him with a pout. Scared that if you tried to talk to him Wonwoo would get even more mad.
Seungcheol looked at you in an apologetic way, he didn't know what happened to Wonwoo, but he knew that his anger would be unloaded on you. And that idea bothered him, but not enough to do something. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he was terrified of the younger male.
Soon you were pushed inside of Jeon's room, the familiar scent invading your senses. You smiled at that before the boy pinned you to the wall.
"Won-" "Shh. I don't want to hear you today. Just be a good girl for me yes?" you looked at him with a pout, and he frowned holding your cheeks, just like Mingyu had done a few hours prior.
"Don't look at me like that Y/n, I'm not in the mood. I know it's not your fault, that's why I'm trying really, really hard to keep myself calm. I don't want to yell at you" he looked at you, and you tried to be apprehensive about the situation.
Yeah, he was a little bit meaner than usual, but it was true that he didn't snap at you. He didn't blame you, or scream in your face like a mad man. Something that Mingyu would definitely do.
Your gaze turned into a softer one and Wonwoo leaned in, kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, filled with lust, and a little bit of blood from his wound.
You could tell he was trying to release his anger in some way. And fucking you would be the way without hurting anyone.
"Fuck" he pulled away from the kiss, his hands now on your shoulders pushing you to your knees. You knew exactly what to do, so without hesitating much you undid his belt, pushing down his pants and underwear at the same time.
He was already half hard so with a few more strokes of your hand he became fully erect.
You started giving little kitten licks to the tip, but the boy didn't have much patience to begin with so he held your head, pushing you to his length, gagging you with it.
You closed your eyes, both hands now placed in his thighs as a way to maintain balance and not fall down.
"You feel good baby. This is definitely what I needed" he kept fucking your mouth. His soft moans made their way to your ears and you smiled slightly.
Before cumming he pulled away "To the bed, quick."
You immediately went to the bed, taking of your skirt and panties on the process. Knowing that Wonwoo would probably just rip them, and you couldn't afford that happening.
You laid down, stomach facing the mattress, ass up in the air, and without much warning the boy pistoned into you.
"I swear to God" he didn't waste time moving as fast and hard as he could, making you bite into the bed sheets to not let out a sound.
"That fucking jerk" a hard thrust was delivered to you as well as a smack to your ass "I fucking hate him" another thrust "One day I'll rip his guts apart" and another.
Wonwoo was never this rough with you, but you couldn't help but like it. Enjoying the roughness, even if the boy was talking shit about your other fuck buddy.
"He's a stupid motherfucker that thinks he's the best, that he has everything he wants, that he owns the world" his grip onto your waist became stronger "well guess what, he doesn't have this pussy, I own this shit" he laughed before fucking into you even rougher.
That was like a cold bucket of water was dropped into you, you felt horrible for some kind of reason. Now regretting all the choices you had made in your life. But at the same time, you weren't dating neither of them. So why should you care? They only saw you as a fuck toy. Right?
That's what it was. It couldn't be anything else. Wonwoo probably said that because he was mad at Mingyu. Because he certainly did not own you.
Yes, you guys were fuck buddies for like a long time. But that didn't mean you belonged to him. Right?
Then why did you keep it a secret whenever you fucked another person? Why did Wonwoo get absolutely furious when he saw you with some other dude?
You never understood those things. He clearly told you he didn't want a relationship. But in reality what he didn't want was the compromise. He was not scared, he just didn't care enough to have a relationship with someone.
He absolutely despised sweet stuff, going on dates, holding hands in a romantic way, giving each other gifts in anniversaries, all of it. He couldn't stand it. It was too much work. It was bothersome for him.
It was much easier having you as a fuck buddy. Cause he didn't need to do shit. Whenever he pleased you would be right there for him to use you as he wanted. Without even complaining about it. You were a simple person, and he loved that.
What he did not love was the thought of other people doing this with you. For some reason he hated it with all his might. But that was probably because he was jealous and selfish in general. He didn't like other people using something he liked.
Fuck, did he like you?
He wasn't sure. To be honest he avoided thinking about it. He had made the mistake to tell you this would be nothing serious, and now, it was too late to regret it. He said what he said. And there was nothing to do about it.
"Wonu- argh wonu the- the door" you managed to speak through muffled moans.
Wonwoo was so deep into his own thoughts and with the task of fucking you that he didn't even realize when someone started knocking on the door.
"For fucks sake. I can't have one peaceful fucking day. ONE." he let go of you, resentfuly pulling away.
"What the fuck do you want?" He opened just a bit of the door, Seungcheol's awkward smile was the first thing he saw, making him roll his eyes.
"I don't want to be a party pooper, but hm, how do I tell you this... The lady that inspects the apartment is here. And well you know..." he said flailing his arms.
"You want me to stop fucking y/n" he deadpans "yeah that. I'm sorry..." Seungcheol looks like a sad puppy, like he did something so wrong his owner would disown him.
"I fucking hate this day. Nothing could be worse. I swear." he angrily closed the door, making Cheol and you flinch.
"Get dressed. I'll take you home." he started putting on his own clothes, trying to leave the place tidy before leaving. Because as much as he hated the situation, he didn't want Seungcheol and him getting kicked out.
"I'm sorry..." you whispered. You knew it wasn't your fault. But still you felt apologetic. "W-we can continue in my apartment if you want Wonu... I have no roommates and no one's coming over"
"Honestly I'm not even horny anymore y/n, just fucking furious" he signaled with his head for you to get moving after dressing up. And you did after fixing the bed.
"We can like, watch a movie or something. To help you calm down. Or maybe distract you from this situation" you looked at him with shiny eyes, hoping he would say yes.
"Honestly, anything is better than staying here. Because I would probably punch Cheol on the face" he sighed and then held your hand.
He walked as fast as he could, quickly leaving with you. Not even saying goodbye to Cheol or the lady that inevitably ruined his moment with you.
He took both of you to your apartment, seemingly more calm than before. At least that what you thought when you sat down next to him to watch the movie.
Half an hour passed, and everything was actually going fine. You and Wonwoo were enjoying the movie, but then, the doorbell rang.
You sighed and stood up going to see who it was, frowning when you saw your friends. Why were they here?
"Hi..." you answered when you opened the door. Seungkwan immediately pushed you out of the way entering your house, Vernon and Chan following along.
"Y/n you won't believe what we saw, Min-" you quickly opened your eyes pointing with your chin towards Wonwoo on the couch "oh... Not him" he rolled his eyes.
"What's he doing here?" Chan whispered to you approaching you from the side.
"What about me huh?!" Wonwoo immediately stood up. Walking towards where all of you were.
"N-nothing, they're just surprised you're here nothing else. Right guys?" you looked at them desperately.
"Actually no. I don't like that he's here y/n. We talked to you about this. For fucks sake" Seungkwan's eyes where fixated on your nervous ones.
"Oh you don't like me huh? I don't like you guys either. And today is not really my fucking day, so I suggest you shut the fuck up" he went even closer to Seungkwan.
Panicked you stood in front of your friend, looking up to the taller male. "Please don't fight..."
"Y/n I wouldn't have to fight if you listened to us. He's not good for you, can't you understand that? It's not that hard." he crossed his arms.
Wonwoo pushed you out of the way, this time not being careful making you fall down. And he delivered a punch to your friends face, his nose starting to bleed.
"What the fuck?!" he yelled holding onto the bruised area "fuck..." he backed away Vernon taking his place as Chan helped you get up.
"Are you fucking stupid dude? Jesus Christ..." Vernon mustered "That's why we don't like you at all. You aggressive piece of shit" Chan spoke up now.
"Guys please..." you whispered fighting the urge to cry, but it was impossible. Tears already rolling down your cheeks.
"Why do you keep defending him? He just punched me in my face!" Seungkwan looked at you, his eyes wide open, not believing the situation.
"I- I'm sorry" you covered your face sighing deeply.
"I'm fucking leaving" Wonwoo said and you held his arm "N-no, don't lea-" "Let go." he pulled his arm away from your grip and just left.
You let out a desperate cry before looking away from your friends. Too ashamed to even look at them in the eyes after that situation.
"I'm so sorry, I really am, I'm sorry" you kept mumbling to them until you felt a pair of arms surround you. Trying to make you calm down.
"It's fine" you heard Chan's soft voice from behind. It surprisingly helped a little.
"No, it's not fucking fine. Like for God's sake y/n, this can not keep happening. You need to stop seeing them. Specially Wonwoo." Seungkwan was now in front of you, arms crossed letting you see how angry he was. Not only that you could also spot a bruise starting to appear on his delicate face.
"Oh no, Seungkwan, I'm sorry, I didn't think he would do this to you, i- I don't know what happened, he was in a bad mood and I guess-"
"Stop trying to excuse him y/n" Vernon sighed now taking a stance next to his friend. "He's a jerk. That's it. Imagine if one day he punches you."
"He wouldn't do that..." you shook your head and then Chan placed his chin on your shoulder.
"You don't know that" he said before letting you go so he could go stand next to Vernon "and honestly I don't want to wait until it happens" he sighed.
"It's not that easy you know? You all keep saying to just leave them, stop seeing them. But it's not easy, not at all. They know where I live, they go to the same school we do, it's just, too complicated, I'm- I'm scared" both of your hands where placed on your temples while you closed your eyes. Stressed by just the though of Mingyu and Wonwoo going absolutely insane because out of nowhere you stopped talking to them.
"I know it's not easy. But you have us. We may not be the best in terms of size or strength, but we will still protect you, right?" Chan smiled brightly trying to ease the situation a bit.
"Yeah, of course. Like, no one, absolutely no one is hurting you." Vernon sounded extremely serious and you could tell he really meant it.
"And if I have to take another punch for you, I'll do it." Kwan held your hands with a soft smile.
You couldn't help but breakdown and start crying again because of that. You really didn't know what you did to deserve such good and loving friends like them.
"You guys are the best. Really. I love you so much. Thank you. And sorry..." you pouted before laughing gently at Seungkwan as he also started crying.
"You guys are such crybabies" Chan laughed before caressing both of your backs.
"So it's settled Y/n, tomorrow, no talking to those douches" Vernon poked your head gently.
You had never felt so nervous to go to school like today. Chan waited for you outside your house with Vernon so the three of you could go to school. As Seungkwan couldn't because he had a doctors appointment. It was also a way to make sure you would not talk to neither Mingyu or Wonwoo.
"I'm so fucking scared. Wonwoo called me yesterday, and I didn't answer so he messaged me like a lot. He's definitely going to try and talk to me today. I'm terrified" you sighed while walking, hands holding on tight to the straps of your backpack as if they would run away.
"He better stay away from you. If he doesn't I'll make sure he does. After yesterday I really want to beat the shit out of him. For real" Vernon frowned, he absolutely despised Wonwoo, and after the punch that Seungkwan received he hated him even more.
"Well, let's try to stay out of conflict" Chan looked at his friend worried and then at you with the same gaze.
"Yeah, let's just... ignore them..." you nodded to yourself, seeing the two boys agree with you.
After some minutes you guys finally arrived, feeling a bit weird. You looked around scared, like a bunny being chased by two big bad wolves.
To your despair you made eye contact with Mingyu by accident, making you look away immediately and cling onto both of your friends arms. Walking faster towards your class.
The taller male just frowned, why did you look at him like that? Were you scared of something? Of him? Curiosity started to build up in his gut. As well as anger. Why did you ignore him like that? He didn't do anything. So why were you so weird today?
Another one that was absolutely furious was Wonwoo. You completely ignored him yesterday. Yes, he didn't make the best decision, and yes, punching your best friend was a bit extreme. But still, he wanted to apologize and you ignored him. Making him lose his temper. Barely sleeping at night because of it.
He waited for you in your locker, and when you walked right by him completely looking away, not even going to the locker he just felt more angry. Is that how you were going to be? Childish. He thought to himself. As if he didn't do exactly the same whenever he got mad at Seungcheol.
But he wasn't going to give up. No way. He was going to talk to you. Even if you didn't want to.
His plan was to wait for you at the end of your last class, so when everyone was leaving he could hold onto you and take you with him to talk.
What he didn't know is that Mingyu had the exact same plan as him. And he wasn't planning to give up either.
The time passed and the classes weren't that bad. You had spent your whole day with your friends, having a good time, completely forgetting about the other two boys. A big mistake.
Wonwoo left early not caring if the teacher would say something, he needed to make sure he was outside your class for when you left. But as he got closer a familiar face was standing there. Resting against the wall, looking at his phone.
"What are you doing here?" he asked frowning displeased by who he saw there.
"None of your fucking business" the other muttered still not looking up from his phone.
"This is not your class. What the fuck are you doing here?" he insisted.
"I could say the same thing to you." he looked up making eye contact with Wonwoo.
"I'm just waiting for y/n" he wanted to brag about you to Mingyu, because as he told you he owned your pussy, and that was one of his biggest achievements.
"What a coincidence then, I'm waiting for her too." he frowned crossing his arms.
"Don't fuck with me Kim, what are you doing here?" he already wasn't in the best mood, and hearing Mingyu joke around just made him lose it even more.
"I'm not fucking with you Jeon. I'm here to talk to y/n" His face kept displaying a displeased expression. Not only that but his brain was starting to think too much, why the fuck was Jeon Wonwoo waiting for you?
"And why would you even do that? She doesn't even like you. If you think you have a chance with her, forget it." You had never told him you hated Mingyu, but he just assumed it. You HAD to hate him, after all the stories he had explained to you, and after the other day, you definitely had to absolutely hate him. Right?
"Doesn't even like me?" He started laughing ironically enjoying Wonwoo's confused facial expression "Oh please, that's not what she says when my dick is burried deep inside of her" he shrugged his shoulders triumphant. Did Wonwoo think he had a chance with you? How stupid.
"What? What the fuck did you just say?" Wonwoo couldn't believe what he just heard. He had to be fucking around. Just to mess with him and make him angrier. That had to be it. Mingyu was not fucking you. It couldn't be.
"I said that that's not what she says-"
"I heard you. But you can't possibly be telling the truth." He laughed in disbelief shaking his head.
"Well I am, and if you want to see some evidence, I have pictures" He unlocked his phone starting to look for his hidden photo album of you. Once he found it he showed it to Wonwoo, a big smile on his face.
It was you. To Wonwoo's dismay it was actually you. All naked, a trail of Mingyu's cum all over your abdomen. Messy. Just how the giant liked it.
For some reason Jeon felt speechless. He couldn't believe you were also fucking Mingyu. Like you were mere fuck buddies. But still. It was Kim Mingyu, the man he hated the most. His enemy. The guy he wanted to beat up at any given chance because he couldn't stand him at all. It was like betraying him. You betrayed him, and you needed to pay for it.
"She's been playing both of us." He let out a serious tone, his eyes now hooded as he felt nothing but anger.
"What?" the younger frowned confused, still not understanding the situation.
"She's been playing both of us Mingyu. She has been fucking both of us." He looked at the boy dead serious. Taking in all his different expressions.
At first he was frowning, utterly confused, then he looked like he was processing all of the information, and then his face completely changed. Into a stern one. He couldn't believe it either. That's why you canceled him yesterday, to go and fuck Wonwoo.
"Wow... I can't fucking believe it. No one, absolutely no one plays with me like that. No. One." he crossed his arms, and Wonwoo did the same.
"We have to do something. Has she been ignoring you too?"
"Yes." he was still in disbelief. How could you? Why would you? Knowing how bad it could end, why did you even take the risk?
But that was a question that not even you could answer.
"Let's go to her house. I have a spear key." Wonwoo turned around, starting to walk hoping the other boy would follow him. And to his surprise, he did.
Mingyu hated Wonwoo, and he didn't quite understand what was the plan, or why was he just letting Wonwoo decide, but he wanted to make you pay. For simply not telling him the truth, and also fucking with Wonwoo in his back. Out of everyone why did it have to be him? Were you stupid?
"Take this" the eldest gave him a motorcycle helmet "this is the fastest way
to get there" Jeon put on his own helmet before getting on it.
Mingyu rolled his eyes before putting the helmet on and getting on the motorcycle with Wonwoo. What was even happening. Was he really taking him to your house, or was he going to absolutely murder him.He had no clue.
When he saw your house he finally calmed down. The possibilities of Wonwoo killing him weren't low. But apparently not to high either.
They went inside as if it was their own home and Wonwoo left his jacket on the table, not caring about the pretty decoration that was on top. He had no time to do that.
"So... Why are we even here?" The taller one asked looking around confused.
"If she wants to fuck both of us, let's see how well she can handle it." He sat down on the couch, making himself comfortable.
"We're going to fuck her? The both of us? At the same time?" Mingyu pointed at himself and then at Wonwoo repeatedly.
"Yes Mingyu. Are you fucking stupid? Or do you just not listen?" The eldest rolled his eyes looking away.
"Why would- Why are you- just why...?" he frowned.
"To teach her a lesson, to make her pay for lying to both of us, to make sure she never does it again." He was completely serious, scaring the taller male.
"Well I'm sorry but I don't like sharing."
"And you think I do? I'm fucking annoyed by this whole situation. Because honestly if it was someone else I would be fine. Kind of. But you? Out of all, you? For fucks sake it's like asking for disaster to happen. I didn't think she would be this fucking dumb. Maybe fucking her stupid was not a good idea after all"
"At the end she'll choose."
"What?"
"We're going to fuck her at the same time, but at the end, she's going to have to choose one of us. Or neither."
"Deal. I'll win anyways." He let out a soft laugh.
"You wish."
You were kind of nervous when you left class but to your surprise, neither of the boys were waiting for you. That calmed down your nerves and made you smile happily. Maybe it was never that difficult after all.
Both of your friends took you home before leaving to their own, and as you opened your front door you spotted a familiar vehicle near your house. But that couldn't be his. No way. You shook your head, deciding to ignore it.
As you entered your house and closed the door the keys immediately fell to the floor and you couldn't help but start trembling out of fear.
Jeon Wonwoo and Kim Mingyu where inside your house, sitting in your couch, looking at you with a gaze you had only seen when they looked at each other.
"W-what- why- I'm sorry" that's all you could say. They knew everything. There was no time to act dumb.
"You're sorry? I'm not really sure about that." Wonwoo was the first to speak up standing up from the couch and approaching you.
"You lied to us. You tricked us. How could you? Are you that desperate for cock? Wasn't one enough for you? I didn't think you were such a whore" Mingyu was the one who spoke now, also walking towards you.
They where both in front of you now, as your back hit the front door. The handle poking your back from behind, it hurt.
"I'm sorry, I really am, it just- it got out of hand, and well you know... we are just fuck buddies right...? it- it shouldn't be a problem" you couldn't back away anymore. but you wished you could. Their intense gazes on you were too much to handle. Leaving you uncomfortable.
"If it wasn't a problem why did you lie huh? You told me yesterday you had a to do project. I didn't know your teacher assigned you to fuck Wonwoo" his hand held onto your waist, slamming you back on the door, the handle hitting you once again. Making you wince in pain.
"I- I'm sorry. But you have to understand. I-I couldn't just tell you guys... You would have end up killing each other or something" your desperate eyes kept looking at both of them.
"Who do you think we are? Murderers?" Wonwoo's hand went to your neck imitating Mingyu's action, but softer. Making you hit your head on the door.
You closed your eyes, already expecting the absolute worse. You fucked up big time. There was no way to get away from this. You weren't sure about what was in their mind, but you knew it couldn't be good.
"Eyes on me. Open." you heard that low voice that usually aroused you, but not this time. How could it? Two of the most dangerous people you knew where cornering you against a wall, their strong grip on you.
You opened your tear filled eyes, not being able to look at neither of them for too long. Your vision foggy from the tears blocking your vision.
"Poor little thing, terrified" Mingyu let out a laugh before pressing harder on your side.
"You know what they say y/n, if you play with fire, you'll get burned. And it hurts." Wonwoo applied more pressure to your neck, making you panic and hold onto his wrist. You didn't want to die. Not like this.
"On your knees." the eldest let go of your neck and pushed you by your shoulders to the ground. Knees hitting the wood with a loud thud accompanied by a whine from you.
"You know what to do." Mingyu said while looking down at you.
You cleared your eyes, wiping away the tears and looking up at them. So this was their plan. To fuck you.
Maybe it wasn't as bad as you had thought. At the end of the day they still had some consideration towards you, right?
Your hands quickly moved towards Wonwoo's pants, to you he was the scariest out of the two, so it was better to start with him first.
Wonwoo had a shit eating grin all over his face making Mingyu's groan annoyed. Oh well you started with the older, whatever. That didn't annoy him, of course not.
He was definitely not annoyed when he gripped your hair making you look at him dead in the eyes "you've got two hands. Use them." he said letting go.
You struggled an absurd amount time to open each of their belts and zippers with one hand, but you didn't have much of a choice. It was better to follow their introductions than to wait for the consequences. Even if they couldn't be really bad.
"Me first." Mingyu once again pulled your hair towards him, dick slamming softly onto your cheek.
"You wish" Wonwoo now also gripped your hair pulling you to him, making you stay between their two cocks.
You simply opened your mouth, tongue lolling out, letting them use your mouth as they wished.
"Rock, paper scissors" Mingyu muttered, and Wonwoo just looked at him confused.
"We'll decide things by that. It's the quickest and easiest way right now" he frowned determined.
"You're so childish, why do you even like him?" he rolled his eyes but agreed to the game nonetheless by pulling his hand out towards the big giant.
"rock..."
"paper..."
"scissors..."
"shoot!" both of them said revealing how Wonwoo won by throwing a rock at Mingyu's scissors.
"I go first. As expected, you can't even win a rock paper scissors match against me" Wonwoo laughed with a smug smile holding onto you head now, directing your mouth directly onto his dick.
"Watch it Jeon. I won't hesitate to punch you..." Mingyu frowned angrily gripping your head so you would at least touch him at the same time.
"Shut up." the eldest groaned as he fucked into your mouth, enjoying the sensation the back of your throat gave him. Especially when you gagged and looked at him with those pretty bambi eyes, begging him to pull out so you could breathe.
"It's my turn don't you think...?" Mingyu pouted while looking directly at you, he wanted attention. He begged for attention. A true attention seeker at all costs, mainly to you. He wanted your attention.
"No. I won. I decide. You wait." Wonwoo threw the boy a glare and went back to his task of using your throat as his fuck toy.
"I'm not a dog for you to be talking at me like that." he punched the older on the shoulder.
"You sure are annoying like one, fuck off" he punched him back on the same spot.
You tapped onto Wonwoo's thigh, and he couldn't help but look at you. Immediately knowing what you ment by your sweet understanding eyes.
'Don't fight' he knew that that's what you were trying to say, and he didn't want to fight either, but it was so hard when Mingyu was being a dick. In his point of view of course.
He just decided to ignore the boy beside him and keep thrusting until he felt satisfied enough.
Once he pulled out you didn't waste any time and decided to go for Mingyu's. He had been waiting for too long, you even felt bad. Your hand couldn't possibly feel as good as your mouth. You all knew.
That's why Wonwoo wanted to make Mingyu wait, because he deserved it. He hated him so much. And even if he was mad at you, he was always going to be angrier at Mingyu. For simply breathing. Existing even.
Mingyu was already a whimpering mess. having to wait for you to touch him was something that never happened. It was usually the other way around, he was the one that railed you up. Not letting you touch yourself as he teased you as much as he could.
"Hey, just because you're sucking his dick doesn't mean you don't have to touch me." Wonwoo slapped your cheek slightly and you moved your hand.
Immediately going to grip his cock and pump him.
But Mingyu wasn't having it. Your attention should be on him now.
He shoved his dick deeper making you choke on his length. He was slightly bigger and thicker than Wonwoo so you could barely breathe. Nose pressed against his lower stomach.
You soon let go of Wonwoo to place both your hands on Mingyu's thighs trying to pull away slightly, wanting to have some air in your lungs.
The taller had now a proud smile on his face, finally getting what he wanted.
But of course Wonwoo wasn't going to let that happen. He couldn't lose to Mingyu.
His hand went in to pinch your nose, making sure you weren't breathing at all. Your eyes went to his a panicked look in your soft eyes, just as he wanted.
"You can take it. Can't you? Come on, keep sucking"
You closed your eyes and tried your best to keep on sucking Mingyu, you didn't have much of an option, his hands were gripping your hair and he was pushing your head towards him.
But you couldn't take it anymore, you were starting to feel dizzy like you could faint at any second.
One of your hands gripped Mingyu's thigh and the other tapped Wonwoo's wrist, and when he felt how weak your touch was he finally let go, pushing Mingyu's hands away so you could pull away and breathe.
You nearly collapsed on the floor, both hands keeping you up as you looked down, breathing heavily to recompose yourself. That was definitely intense, and it was only the beginning.
"Look up." you heard one of them say and you slowly did.
Mingyu nearly came by the look in your face. You looked absolutely fucked out, messy hair, red lips puffy and parted tongue slighty poking out so you could breathe, spit all over them, and your eyes. Oh your beautiful eyes, so innocent, looking at him like nothing had happened. So precious, so cute. God, he wanted to have you right there, ignore Wonwoo and just fuck you.
But he knew he couldn't. It was a competition. And he was very fair when it came to competing. Because he knew he had the abilities to win without cheating.
Wonwoo wasn't enduring it much better. You looked like an angel, there sitting on the floor while staring at him with those honey filled eyes. Gosh he wanted to have you all for himself so badly, to just take you to your room close the door and let Mingyu frustrated. But he wasn't going to do it. He wanted for you to choose him fairly. Because he knew that you would.
"On all fours baby, lead us to the room pretty" Wonwoo smiled, that smile that you absolutely adored, that made you all fuzzy inside.
"Weren't we supposed to punish her?" Mingyu asked crossing his arms looking at Wonwoo now.
"Yeah, what's your point??" Wonwoo asked confused.
"You just called her pretty, don't get me wrong, she absolutely is, but if she's being punished no cute nicknames should be allowed" he shrugged.
"Are you putting rules on how we should punish her? Jesus you're such a killjoy gosh" Wonwoo rolled his eyes "On all fours whore, come on walk." he pointed towards the hallway. "Happy now?" he glared at Mingyu.
"It feels more like a punishment now" He smiled following right behind you.
Both of them did once you started crawling towards your room, ass perked up letting them see your panties under your skirt. Might as well put on a show.
After entering your room the door was closed behind you and soon you felt Wonwoo's hand grip your hair pulling you up by it. You grimaced in pain and after you put on your best puppy eyes, maybe you could get them to forgive you, even just a little.
"Don't look at me like that. You know what you did, and you're getting what you deserve for it. Now climb on the bed and take off your clothes for us baby" he pushed you towards the bed.
You stumbled a little before getting on the bed. You went towards the middle and once you reached the spot you started undressing yourself.
You made eye contact with both of them while you threw the clothes around your room, putting on a show.
"Don't take the skirt off" Mingyu spoke up now "you know how much I love them on you" he smiled before approaching you.
Both of them slowly made their way towards you and you noticed they still had their shirts on, but you assumed it was another way of punishing you. Not letting you see or touch anything that wasn't their cock.
They climbed onto the bed and before doing anything Mingyu looked at Wonwoo, ready for another round of rock, paper scissors.
"Back door or front door?" Wonwoo asked.
"Back" Mingyu said without hesitation.
"You can have it. I want what's mine. This pussy" He gripped your legs and immediately pulled you towards him, now hovering over you.
"H-huh? Wait. Then I also want it! Come on rock paper scissors." he pushed Wonwoo, but the man wasn't having it.
"No. You said you wanted the back door. Now fuck off. Think before you speak next time, stupid motherfucker..." he glared at Mingyu before looking back at you.
"That's not fair" Mingyu mumbled angrily before moving and sitting against the bed headboard.
"Shut up, you're ruining the fucking mood by acting like a child. Gosh how do you handle this. Is he always this bitchy?" Wonwoo sighed tiredly.
"Kind of" you mumbled expecting Mingyu to not hear you.
"What the fuck do you mean by kind of?" He nearly spit out, anger growing inside of him.
"I'm sorry" you immediately mumbled sitting up, taking Wonwoo with you.
"You can't cum." The eldest warned before pulling you up and slamming into you without any other warning.
You moaned loudly holding onto his shoulders so you wouldn't fall down on the bed.
Mingyu didn't waste any more time and slid behind you, holding your waist before slowly pushing into your rim.
"Fuck" you managed to say while feeling how both of them filled you up.
It was new, but a good kind of new. You felt so full, so good. It was something you had never ever felt before, but you could definitely get used to it.
"No bad words. Pretty girls don't curse" Mingyu said after slapping your mouth.
"Pretty girls also don't lie and fuck your enemies behind their back, so I would say she's not a pretty girl. She's a whore. A cockslut that only thinks about fucking" Wonwoo muttered as his thrusts became harsher.
Both of them were going at a quick pace, you could feel them practically rearranging your guts. You could feel every inch, every vein, every angry touch against your waist. A grip so deadly that would definitely leave bruises.
They had no mercy at all, you didn't deserve it anyways. And you didn't want it. If punishment felt like this you would definitely misbehave more.
Their hands started wandering elsewhere, Wonwoo pinched your nipples while Mingyu slapped your ass harshly, leaving the red mark of his big hand there.
You were completely squeezed between them, enjoying the roughness of it all. They were usually pretty forceful and brute during sex, but this time it was extreme.
Wonwoo went to squeeze your neck smiling when you made eye contact with him, you could barely keep your eyes open as they kept rolling back from the sensation.
Your mouth was agape, letting out whimpers, moans, strangled words, and weird sounds you couldn't even decipher what they were.
It felt like your tongue was going numb, you couldn't even think about anything else that wasn't the two boys.
"Pretty little cock slut, look at her, all fucked out and dumb, my pretty dumb baby" Wonwoo smiled and let go of your neck.
"No. MY pretty dumb baby" he made a particular sharp thrust making you almost scream.
"Shut up. Mine." Wonwoo started sucking on your neck leaving a pretty mark there, proudly looking at it.
"No. Mine." Mingyu also reached for your neck, leaving a hickey right on the other side.
They looked at each other with hate filled gazed before continuing their job to fuck you stupid.
Even if you already were.
You wanted to come so bad, but you couldn't, you knew you couldn't. You didn't want to make things worse.
You held onto Wonwoo's shoulders tightly containing everything inside, making your insides squeeze both of them.
And to your fortune (and their misfortune) they came, shooting everything inside you. Every single drop.
You couldn't help but pant loudly, head resting back onto Mingyu's shoulder.
"That was amazing" he mumbled against your ear and you nodded.
"I hope you learned your lesson, because now, you'll have to choose" Wonwoo pulled out from you, admiring the way your hole pulsated while letting his cum out.
"w-what..?" you looked at him extremely confused.
Mingyu also pulled away now, coping Wonwoo while staring at your ass, clearly enjoying the view.
"Choose. Me or Mingyu."
"Wonwoo... I- I can't do that..." you shook your head looking down, bitting slightly onto your lower lip.
"Yes you can. Choose one y/n. Me or Mingyu."
You looked up now, just to see Mingyu sitting next to Wonwoo. And you couldn't help but look at both of them. You felt helpless. What were you supposed to do? Choose? Between them? No. You couldn't.
"I really can't Wonwoo... I-I'm sorry- but I just can't" you were so nervous not knowing what went inside Wonwoo's mind, but it was definitely something not good.
His face told you everything. He was disappointed. Disappointed because you didn't choose him like he thought you would. He thought it was an easy thought. That you would just blurt out his name without hesitation.
"Neither it is then." He stood up and you immediately held onto his wrist.
"No, Wonwoo please... Don't do this please... Don't make me choose, I don't want to lose neither of you please" tears started rolling down your cheeks.
"I'm sorry, but we made kind of a deal... At the end you had to choose one of us or neither..." Mingyu muttered awkwardly while standing up.
"No. Why? I don't get it" you tried to chase after Wonwoo but you could barely stand up after what happened.
"It's a pride thing. We can't just share you... That would be the lowest of low. It was already torture to share you with him right now... If it wasn't because you feel so good I would have beat him already" Mingyu said while looking at Wonwoo.
"I guess love is really like sour grapes" Wonwoo muttered before heading out your room, he needed to get his pants and leave. Leave before he felt more like a piece of shit.
'Love?' you thought to yourself. Did Wonwoo love you...? No. That couldn't be. You guys were just fuck buddies. Then why did he say that, why did it hurt so fucking much. Gosh. You didn't even understand yourself.
"I'm sorry y/n... I guess this is the last time we're seeing each other. Goodbye" Mingyu looked away and walked towards the living room where his pants where.
With the little strength you had left you stood up and put on a hoodie, walking to the living room, seeing both boys there.
"Y/n it's not worth it. We made a deal. And a deal is a deal." Mingyu stated before finishing to zip up his pants.
Wonwoo looked at your direction and you couldn't stop crying, you couldn't even mutter a single word, you just didn't want them to leave. Not like this.
"P-p-please..." you whimpered while shaking your head.
"Goodbye" He said before heading out, both of them did. Leaving you all alone.
You were a crying mess, now kneeling down on the floor as you couldn't stop. You felt horrible, you couldn't forget Wonwoo's look and words. They didn't leave your head. Should you have chosen him? But Mingyu was so important to you too, you couldn't possibly do that. You didn't do it before. That's why you fucked both to begin with.
Wonwoo also felt miserable. If he had just told you the truth to begin with nothing of this would have happened. He was stupid. Stupid and lonely. A loser.
Mingyu also felt bad. Seeing you cry like that made him feel like a criminal that just killed your parents in front of your pure eyes. But he was a man of pride, and he always kept his word. He couldn't simply break it for you, not when he knew Wonwoo would probably punch him if he did. And he was definitely not the mood for another fight.
"Well, I guess this is over now... Neither of us won" The taller said before sighing heavily.
"I fucking hate you." those were Wonwoo's words before driving away in his motorcycle.
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count-alucard-tepes · 7 months
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What sexy things do the OP Hotties do that turn you on? 👀
Haha I normally wouldn’t do slightly spicy asks but I’ll respond to this one because I can’t resist😆😍
Kizaru ✨: he such a tease, you know he’s so smooth with the ladies and he dresses really well too. A well put together man is always desirable.
Akainu🌋: he’s stoic and cold and I’m a brat 😂 I feel like that would be the perfect match for someone like him. Also he has tattoos and he seems like he would protect me with his life and that’s so sexy.
Ryokugyu 🌱: he’s a bad boy and everyone loves a bad boy. And when ever I get mad at him he would just turn into a tree with my favorite flowers…a girl is sold.
Fujitora 🐅: he’s such a sweetheart, you know he would be the best husband ever.
Sir Crocodile 🐊: it’s his style, he just oozes sexiness in everything he does and says. He knows he can have anyone and that confidence is really sexy.
Doflamingo Donquixote 🦩: the ultimate bad boy who would have you wrapped around his finger literally and figuratively. It’s the sexy body, the laugh, the style! Not to mention, he’s someone you don’t want to cross the line with him. He’s the guy your parents say stay away from with good reason but you still want a taste.
Benn Beckman 🔫: he’s so mysterious and you know he’ll charm your pants off in 30 seconds. He’s also strong and smart…it’s a win-win situation!
Katakuri Charlotte 🍡: Oda thought everyone was gonna be terrified of this hottie! But no, this mochi baby daddy is the perfect example of don’t judge a book by its cover! He’s a family guy who listens to his mom and cares for his younger siblings! And not to mention he’s got a sexy body and can tell why you’re angry before you stomp around ! And he loves donuts so I never have to diet again! I AM SOLD!
Killer🔪: alright post time skip Killer is hot and all but pre time skip Killer had me on my knees! He’s is so cute and mysterious but also super intelligent and fine af! Blonde hair and blue eyes…that’s my punk rock Barbie right there!
Kaido🐉: he’s emotional af when he’s drunk and just loves the hell out of his kid and those around him that are loyal to him! To be Yamato’s mom and smash Kaido at him prime! Omg I’d cling to ankles, y’all !
King 👑 : he’s the hot character of color who is the epitome of tall, dark and sexy! He has the white hair! He’s that bitch! He’s got wings and legs for days! The fucking face tattoo!!! I would cling onto his knees (since that’s probably the highest point where I’d be able reach him) and die for this baby daddy!
Queen👑: oh man, Queen is so fucking cool! I just wanna party with him until I can’t walk anymore! You know he puts the party God to shame! Karaoke night at Onigashima would be everything!
Izou🔫🔫: he’s so beautiful…I would be so shy around him because he’s so freaken pretty and would always look hotter than me! It’s always nice to have someone else do your hair and make up and Izou is my main man to be my wifey!
Dragon D Monkey 🐉🐒: the face tattoo! You know he’s a badass when he got a face tattoo and his best friend is an Okama! I’m ready to see Dragon naked, y’all! I’m about to be Luffy’s stepmom! Croc is about to gut me😂😂😂
Oven Charlotte 🍞: feeling sad…he bakes some cake…feeling happy…let’s have croissants! He’s just gonna fatten me up and I’ll never have to diet again because I’ll always be smaller than him! These Charlotte men are just the best! He’s also got main character energy 😂
Buggy🤡: he has hair goals I want to achieve but will never reach even if I tried! He’s charismatic and funny af! Buggy-sama is everything!😍
Marco the Phoenix 🦅: he’s a doctor! Score! My parents would never be prouder since I’m not…next best thing is my hubby being a doctor! He’s also such a cutie who seems to always be smiling!
Eustass Kidd🤘🎸: our favorite angry firecracker! He’s a cutie who wears make up and looks like he should be a drummer in a rock band! He’s got beautiful red hair and he’s intelligent! He also can fix your appliances! That’s a wifey right there!
Rosinantè Donquixote aka Cora-San💕: he’s gentle and emotionally available! Not to mention he’s a natural dad! He’s funny and clumsy af but a total badass! Let’s not forget he’s the handsome sibling lol
Who’s Who ❤️‍🔥👹: omg he’s tall, has pink hair, has tattoos and has a sexy smirk! Not to forget he turns into a cute kitty man! I’m ready to have his kittens!
Gecko Moria🦇: now prime Gecko Moria was every fucking thing! I mean who challenges Kaido and doesn’t actually lose…kinda! He was really hot too!
Iceburg💜: he’s so cute and funny, I can’t with him! He’s also so intelligent and can build stuff, love it!
Gild Tesoro⚜️🏅: first of all, he’s rich and he’s hot! A girl is sold! He sings and dances…even better!
Rob Lucci🐆: he’s so cute! I can’t deal especially in his kitty form, he’s also mysterious. From hot to cold in a mere couple of seconds! I love it! His hair is so beautiful too! I can’t deal!
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kazutora-kurokawa · 6 days
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soft sex w hanma?? that would prob never happen but who gaf🤷🏾‍♀️
Soft Sex w/ Hanma
♡ NSFW, fem reader, soft sex obvi, overstimulation because it's still Hanma lol, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (bunny), praise, written with corrupt Toman!Hanma in mind ♡
note: It probably wouldn't happen lol, but y'know I'm gonna write it anyway 😫🩷
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Hanma has always been pretty rough around the edges, ever since he was younger he was always out getting into fights. That didn't change much as he got older, he was still just as troublesome and dangerous. But it was different with you, you mellowed him out, made him calmer...softer.
That's why when it came to sex, he was the most loving partner imaginable. His rough, tattooed hands gently gripping your thighs to keep your legs open as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. The only sounds in the room were your moans, his grunts, and the sound of your pussy squelching as his dick invaded your guts.
He'd been fucking you for hours, leaving you overstimulated and the sheets beneath you soaked with your combined fluids. Your mind was practically blank, the only thing you could think about was how good he felt inside you. His thrusts get slightly faster, hitting every spot that makes you whimper and writhe.
"That's it bunny, you're taking me so good ♡"
His hands slipped down from your thighs to your hips, gripping them as he continued to pound into you.
"Look so pretty underneath me, gonna have to cum in you as a reward~"
For a second you pondered, a reward for who exactly? Obviously not for you, especially considering he already came inside you multiple times. But in his mind it was a reward for the both of you. Even if it was a daily occurrence and even if he did it multiple times a day. It wasn't just about cumming inside you, it was much more intimate than that. It was about marking you as his. It was about claiming you. You were his and he was yours and nothing could ever change that. That's why he took so much pleasure in filling you to the brim.
"F-fuck bunny, so fucking tight...'bout to cum."
He leaned down, burying his face in your neck and nipping at your skin as he finished inside you. Soft, breathy moans fell from his lips, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him while you came had him on cloud nine. His lips pressed gentle kisses against your neck as he pulled out.
"You did so good f'me bunny."
He plants a soft kiss on your forehead before laying beside you, drifting off to sleep with you in his arms.
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Taglist
@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe
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dawnagustd · 1 year
Text
the ironed blacksmith || jjk
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The queen has made her list and checked it twice. She’s visiting those who have been naughty, and punishing them in ways that are oh so nice.
- Part of the Unholy Night Series.  
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➻ title: the ironed blacksmith  ➻ pairing: blacksmith!jungkook x f!reader  ➻ genre: fantasy | holiday | magic | smut  ➻ word count: 1.4k  ➻ rating: 18+    ➻ warnings: unprotected sex | cum shots/cum play | overstimulation | more fat ass cock !!! | degradation | hard dom!jk | sub!reader | bdsm | sadist!jk | restraints(spreader bar) | degradation/heavy name calling (slut, bitch, whore) | controlled orgasms | pull out method | doggystyle | missionary | rough sex | mentions gagging | pain kink | this bitch is crying again | begging | wrist pinning | spanking | mentions branding | mentions teasing | mentions bullying(back story) | mentions infidelity | a bit of aftercare | we know how we end these so yeah... rip koo’s feelings | I think that’s all      ➻ author’s note: Can y’all believe we’re almost done? Thanks again @taechwitaaah for helping me clean these up. I hope everyone is enjoying themselves. Love you !!
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The thing with Jungkook is… 
These bitches are always trying to fix him. And every goddamn time, they end up broken. A pair of Bambi eyes, tattoos, and pouty lips have never gotten your attention. But tonight, you’ll give him a try. 
You found the bitter blacksmith working hard on Christmas Eve while blasting his alternative rock to tune out the cheerful spirits of Heauxville. He answered the door with a scowl but couldn’t resist the urge to blow off some steam.
See, Jeon used to be a tiny kid. Some of the town’s most respected citizens used to bully him around. But those were the old days. 
Now he’s larger, stronger, and a whole lot meaner. He also has a thing for treating the town’s residents like shit, especially the wives of the ones who put him through hell. They allow Jungkook to treat them just as poorly and embarrass their family name. 
He lures them in with those dreamy eyes, and once he’s bent them over a few times, he sends them on their way. They’re ruined, and soon after—divorced and lonely. All that is left for them to do is send their lover boy gifts and hope he reconsiders denying their love.
But Jungkook’s heart is stone-cold. He doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings, darling.
…..
“Fuck! You feel so good, Jungkook.” 
Ever since Jungkook threw you down here, the only thing you’ve been able to see through your blurred vision are the raging flames from the fire. Your watery eyes create a thick film that alters your vision. The rasp in your voice sounds like you’ve been screaming for hours, and it feels like you have. You knew he’d push limits, but you’ve endured a lot more than you bargained for tonight.
You’ve been spanked and branded until your ass turned sore and red. Your cunt has been teased until you cried, and your body has been bent in every possible way. You’ve lost track of time; there’s no telling how long you’ve had your face buried in this rug, your back arched, and your ass in the air.
The straps on the spreader bar dig into your skin, but you haven’t even noticed. You’re too busy trying to remember your own name, and keep your sanity.
“Whore, did I ask you to speak?” 
Jungkook spits venom each time he speaks. You’d be lying if you said his harshness didn’t make your cunt drip. The very first time he addressed you as whore you were a mess. 
“No, but—”
He smacks your ass before you can finish, bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, and arousal to your core.
“Well, shut the fuck up,” he growls in your ear. “…Or I gag you.”
You don’t take his threat lightly. If Jungkook takes away your ability to scream his name, you’ll probably lose your mind. You already can’t move an inch while being restrained in this position. You let out a sob every time his cock enters your guts.
You can understand why one would take being treated like trash; Jungkook is addicting. You can’t get enough, and even though he has a heart of ice, you know he’s loving the way you feel too.
“I told you I’d wipe that smirk right off your face, didn’t I?” he grunts.
You’re trying to hear what he’s saying, but it’s hard to do when you’re this drunk off of cock. 
When the force of his thrusts sends you flying forward, his hands are already in the position to pull you back on his dick. You have zero control of your body in this position. You’re only a couple of holes for him to fuck. And for whatever stupid reason, that makes you proud.
“Answer me, bitch!” 
He slaps your ass to grab your attention. The sting ripples and spreads all over your skin. Your arousal leaks uncontrollably, ruining the surface beneath you.
“Jungkook, please!”
He scoffs and continues to fuck you like he’s got somewhere to be after this.
“Please, what?” he asks. “Use some fucking words. If you know how.”
“I can’t hold it anymore, Jungkook,” you press.
He leans over your body and places his head on top of yours while he continues to wreck you from behind. 
“You’re pathetic.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I’m sorry.”
He frees you from your restraints and flips you over. His eyes are dark and filled with desire. You know he’s about to give you everything he has, and you are more than thankful to accept.
“Keep your eyes on me, and I’ll think about it,” he mutters. 
Jungkook opens your legs, creating space for himself. You try to pull him closer, but he quickly pins your hands above your head. “And don’t fucking touch me either.”
He enters your pussy before you can apologize. It wouldn’t have been sincere anyway. You’re desperate; you’ll say anything right now.
“Fuck!” you gasp.
Jungkook’s cock isn’t just thick. It fills you and still has inches to spare.
“This is the only thing sluts like you are good for… Lying on your back and taking cock.”
You spread your legs wider as if he can go any deeper.
“Use me, then.” 
It’s more of a plea than a request, but Jungkook complies, nevertheless. Your legs wrap around him when his movements quicken. 
Jungkook’s grunts and moans let you know he’s as close to his release as you are.
Your needy voice calling out his name only motivates him to fuck you harder. Your pussy quivers for more and more, and he continues to feed you until you’re satisfied. You’re suddenly overwhelmed with pleasure and Jungkook senses your orgasm rolling in before you can even warn him.
“Come,” he commands.
You want to squeeze your eyes shut, but you remember his instructions and resist the urge. 
“That’s it. Come all over my dick.”
Your mouth opens to scream, but nothing comes out. Your nails dig into your palm as you try to cope with the intensity of the pleasure. The high seems to last for several minutes before you finally come down.
Jungkook waits until you’ve relaxed before he pulls out and jerks his cock until he paints your pussy with his cum, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him smear it all over your abdomen and thighs.
He’s the first to speak after he’s cleaned you up with his shirt.
“You did good, baby. That was hot.”
“Yeah… It was.”
“We should do it again, you know? I don’t know anyone who can take that much.”
Jungkook helps you up. You have to grab onto his biceps to steady your wobbly legs. He finds humor in your stance; it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile. He should do it more often.
“You should know how this goes, Jungkook,” you remind him.
The blacksmith nods, coming to terms with the fact that he’s the one who’s been wrecked this time. You offer him a smile, the best you’re capable of, and prepare to leave.
“Well, goodnight. Enjoy your cookies; they smell delicious.” 
Your eyes gesture toward the freshly baked dozen you brought from Seokjin’s bakery. He’ll receive at least twenty more of them tomorrow morning.
Before you can walk away, a persistent Jungkook grabs your waist and tries to convince you to reconsider.
“Stay?” he suggests. “Have one with me?”
His eyes are so hopeful, so afraid of rejection for the first time since he was a kid. The tables have turned once again, and he hates being on this side. 
You can hear how fast his heart is beating and sense how he’s hanging on by a thin thread. It’d be hard for anyone to turn him down with the kind of expression he’s presenting to you. But unfortunately for him, you aren’t just anyone.
“Now why would I ever do something like that, Jungkook?”
You slip by him and make your way to the front door. The last thing he hears is cackling as you disappear into the night. The sound will forever give Jungkook chills.
He isn’t sure what you’ve done to him, but he doesn’t like the feeling. He wanted to yell at you, but he also wanted to beg you to stay. However, he didn’t do either of those things. Nothing came out.
…Because you left him empty.
“And they say I’m the mean one,” Jungkook thinks to himself.
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 24 days
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could you please do some random tig hcs?
random tig head canons
sure! hope you like them <3.
gigi is super obsessed with pasta. she eats it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. she even has this thing called dessert pasta where she eats it with chocolate sauce (its disgusting but she likes it)
gigi once dared xander to make a really weird sex toy cause he's so good at making things (what it was it up to you)
jameson has beat the record for the amount of concussions a human can get in a life time. this dude has had like 25 of them
nash goes around making sure all of his brothers have condoms so they don't end up being teenage dads.
max and gigi are the type of people to write really aesthetic notes.
grayson loves wearing gold sheet masks. he's convinced it makes him glow like a pregnant lady
in tbh, jameson said he was considered the second hottest hawthorne. i know people will say grayson's the first, but i think xander is hotter (sorry not sorry. he's hot but xander >>.)
avery and jameson love giving each other shoulder kisses when they're cuddling in bed.
savannah loves cardigans with her entire being. she likes to look put together in public, but when she's alone in her room, she'll throw on a cardigan.
savannah is super into literature. she's constantly buying books (classics, poetry). she has a tumblr account where she post her poetry
a duck once flew into grayson at such high speed that he fell on the ground and tumbled down a hill (this has never happened and will never happen to anyone but grayson)
max has horrendous taste in men (other than xander). max and avery will be taking a walk when the most horrendous, disgusting looking man who looks like he hasn't showered in 50 years, and could probably pass for a goblin passes by and max goes 'smash'
at events and balls, when max and gigi are bored, they look at the crowd, pick out a person, and decide whether they're a smash or pass
jameson loves munching on ice. he's always eating it
xander and avery have matching tattoos. i don't know what it would be, but they definitely have one.
thea is a petty bitch and has a burn book (no, she is not a girl boss. she's a mean girl who thinks everyone loves her when in reality people despise her guts)
grayson takes freezing cold showers because he once read that it's good for you hair and skin
xander, jamie, and gigi have twerking competitions. they get max and avery to judge.
when avery has a nightmare. she likes to go out on her balcony and stare at the stars. they make her feel close to her mom
xander is super into greek mythology. he has read the percy jackson series and has made extensive research on the topic.
xander journals at night lying on his stomach, in his bed, kicking his feet in the air.
max loves kicking guys in the balls (only pieces of shit, not nice guys (she may or may not have once kicked xander in the balls))
gigi wishes she had a dick for one day so she could stack donuts on it.
nash teases jameson by coming up behind him while he's eating, picking up his spoon, and 'helicoptering' it to his mouth saying here comes to airplane (in a voice that one uses to speak to a baby)(if that makes sense)
grayson has the weirdest but cutest laugh you will ever hear.
jameson knows how to speak in tons of different accents. he changes up his accent everyday. one day, it'll be british, the next, scottish
jameson is a sucker for gold jewelry. this dude has gold chains, necklaces, rings, watches, cufflinks, etc (he looks hot wearing them)
libby loves going strawberry picking. she finds it super relaxing and she loves eating them
grayson owns a typewriter (*cough* the tortured poets department *cough*)
when avery is out with alisa, people will take pictures of her (alisa), post them, and caption them mommy (people simp over her so hard)
they all have a group chat (the hawthornes, avery, libby, max, gigi, savannah, and alisa, (maybe even rebecca and thea)) for emergencies only (or at least, thats what they told themselves when they started it), but gigi is alwyas spamming cat memes, xander is always complaining about his missing eyebrow, and max is always begging her 'sugar mommy' avery to buy her books. basically, the gc is a mess and is the most chaotic thing you'll ever see.
xander wants everyone to call him 'dibbles' but no one does.
they sell merch. there is literally never anything in stock, though, because it's always sold out.
grayson is the type of person to take 249123 different types of vitamins to keep himself healthy
gigi snores so loud, you'd be able to hear her from the neighboring state.
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heart4reigns · 1 year
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UNTOUCHABLE, jey uso.
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next chapter
warnings: curse words, cigarettes, alcohol, substances, parties, flirting, platonic relationship, implied sexual activities
tags: it’s an all girls-all boys campus party bash! college!au, and all those campus things… (y/n) isn't like other girls she's emo leave her alone, 10 things i hate about you situation
summary: you were totally untouchable to him
BEING in an all-girls campus was probably the worst decision your parents had ever made for you. you were in another state, far away from your comfort zone. it was your third year, one more year to go before you could escape this hellhole. “HELL YEAH, 86 BABY!” your thoughts were cut-off by your best friend’s voice. “that's what you get for studying non-stop." you smiled. "fuck, i'm finally free from mr. smith's wrath... my saturdays are gonna be wild again!"
the campus ground was divided by several groups. to your luck, you were put in the girls building with all of your sorority girl friends. on the other side of your ground was the boys building. the barrier didn't stop them from throwing huge parties, inviting everyone the could see or talk to. your roommate, becky, was one of the most popular girl you could ever think of. contrary to the 'it girl' image she had, she was a sweetheart. her boyfriend, on the other hand–was a lot. the lovebirds were your closest friends, you'd take a bullet for them.
people couldn't believe that you were in damage ctrl, the college's top sorority. truth be told, you were dragged by becky since her mother’s sister was the one who founded the club. you took a role in academics, helping everyone with their grades–you were quite the tutor for everyone. even the members of the fraternity respected you and occasionally asked for your help.
outside of your studies, you didn't have the presence that becky and seth had. sure, people turned their heads when they see you, but no one ever had the guts to talk to you. except for this mullet emo dude chewing his pasta in front of you. "you should start selling these, (y/n)." dominik praised your cooking skills. "can you please shut up, i'm trying to study." you groaned in despair. "we're literally hanging out and you still choose your books over me?" dominik was your first friend, a year older than you. he was in the same year as seth, finishing up his thesis. "i am looking up qualitative theories for your thesis, do you want me to help you or not?" "right, comrade. i'll just shut up."
"are you coming tonight?" it was a rhetorical question. of course you weren't coming to seth's party. "no, i am not." becky came to the park after her classes, she was sitting on the grass with you and dominik. "see, told you she wasn't coming." dom rolled his eyes. "she never comes to the bloodline frat parties." he continued. "that's because i stopped partying when i was 18." you used to be a party animal back in your younger days, you grew tired of the scene. "boo, i wish we were friends in high school." "dominik, i went to an all-girls private school."
"i mean, jey's definitely gonna be there." becky winked at you. "becks, that was like 2 years ago." you rolled your eyes. "shit, right. i remember you having a crush on him. that was so funny, he's like... totally not your type." you threw your book at dominik, earning a groan. "ow, that hurts! i'm telling the truth right here." you had flashbacks during your first year where you fawned over a certain senior who had arms covered with tattoos, always wearing a chain necklace, and a stupid fucking smile that made your heart beat faster than usual.
the three of you continued the conversation, when all the sudden you heard a menacing laugh coming from behind you. you immediately knew who it was. "SETH, IF YOU PULL MY HAIR ONCE AGAIN, I WILL ACTUALLY SMACK YOU!" right before he could lay his hands on your hair, he backed off. "awwww, that sucks!" he went over to sit next to his girlfriend, giving her a kiss. "hey babe, we were just talking about your party." becky said. "(y/n) is coming?" you shook your head. "as usual. what are your plans for tonight then?" he asked. "i'm going to town to pick up some books professor heyman asked me to get."
seth was the top frat boy of the bloodline. everyone knew the bloodline threw wild parties and tonight? it was one of the biggest since they were all going to graduate soon. "well, if you change your mind the password for tonight is 'don't tell my mom i fucked cody rhodes last night'." he winked. "was originally gonna be '(y/n) (l/n) helped me with my thesis' but we don't want you to kill us." dominik chuckled. "fuck off." you groaned. "we know you love us, (y/n)."
you were getting ready for your short trip to town. you looked at the mirror and fixed your outfit; dom's black jacket (that you took when he wasn't looking), a black tanktop, your favorite corduroy flare pants, and a pair of boots that becky and seth gave you for your birthday present this year. "you look too good to go to a fucking library." becky shouted from her room. "who knows i might meet a hot professor there?" she cringed at your sentence. "be careful okay? oh, no one's gonna be home because we're all going to the party." you nodded. "don't forget to leave the keys inside the flowerpot."
and like usual, becky forgot to put the fucking keys inside the flowerpot. you cursed under your breath, trying your best to call the entire sorority, only to receive nothing but voicemails. you had no other choice than to go there. "here goes nothing." you muttered. the walk to the frat house was thrilling. you had to hide behind a bush, a trashcan, and a tree because of the night-guards.
“password?” the frat boy asked. “don’t tell my mom i fucked cody rhodes last night.” you replied, remembering the password seth gave you earlier. the frat boy opened the door and you knew that you were going to have a very bad time. you scanned the crowd, looking for your orange-haired friend as she was nowhere to be seen. you spotted similar faces, trying your best to avoid them.
people were confused when they saw you stepping inside the house. it was a very rare occurrence for you to be spotted in a function. “oh shit dude, that’s (y/n).” you heard whispers when you passed by. “fuck, where the hell are you becky?” you were still trying to call her to no avail. you did not care about the people staring at you, you really needed the keys. the music was loud, it smelled like weed, and everyone was just having the time of their lives. everyone except for you.
you were squinting your eyes, looking for your friend, until a certain mullet-boy pulled the back of your jacket. “familiar jacket you got there, what are you doing here pretty girl?” you were relieved to see one of your closest friends in this fiasco. “thank god you're here, i’m looking for becky!” you shouted. “why are you looking for her?” he furrowed his brows. “she has the dorm keys!” you replied. “everyone’s here and i can’t fucking go back!” you continued.
“just stay in my room, here are my keys!” he pulled out his carabiner full of keys. you shook your head. “your room smells like weed and piss and the last time i slept there were roaches.” you joked. “hey, i have the cleanest room in the boys dorm.” he defended himself. "can you please help me look for becky? please?" his grin turned menacing. "okay," dominik paused for a second. "if you enjoy your time here."
hence the cup in your hands, you were still looking for your best friend. dominik dragged you around, his hands intertwined with yours. everyone thought you were dating him, but it was totally a long-running joke between you, seth, becky, and him. "dom! you brought your girlfriend out of her shell?" you rolled your eyes when you saw the blond man. "shut up cody, i helped you pass your lit classes last month." you barked at him. "you're right, sorry. it's just weird seeing you here." he spoke louder. "i'm looking for becky, have you seen her?" cody shook his head. "i saw her when the party started, i think she's with either seth or kota!"
dominik patted your back, "poor you, it's okay we can find her." you were stressed out. you took a sip of the alcoholic drink in your cup, feeling the alcohol down your throat. "that's my girl!" dominik smiled, mimicking your actions. "fuck." you sighed. "yo, dom! come here!" one of his friends called him. "i'll help you find becky, stay right here." before you could say anything, he left you alone on the couch.
you felt someone sitting down next to you and you turned your attention to them. you made eye-contact with him, it was the frat leader, the final boss of every single fraternity of this town, jey uso. your heart skipped a beat. "and who are you?" his voice was loud and clear, despite the music blaring loudly. you furrowed your brows. of course he doesn't know me, you thought. you met him once during orientation, which was probably like 3 years ago. other than that, you didn't have any interactions with the leader.
"i'm (y/n)." you replied shortly, not paying attention to him. "shit, you're the one who helped seth with his thesis? the outcast damage ctrl girl?" you took offense in what he said, so you chose to ignore it. you were focusing on your phone, still trying your best to text the groupchat. "hey, you didn't hear what i said?" you looked up from your phone, facing jey again. "what?" you barked. he had this amused expression after he heard your tone. jey smirked as he knew that you weren't fawning over him.
everyone wanted him. everyone, but you.
to be honest, you couldn't really careless about the boys in your college. ever since you had a little crush on jey (which was a long time ago), you never took interest to any of them. if they approached you, you knew you could just say you were dating dominik. he was your wingman. "i said, who did you come here with?" jey repeated his question. "dominik." you were still focusing on your phone. "you're his girlfriend then?" you only nodded in response. "you know," jey paused for a second. "you can't really lie to me. your 'boyfriend' is literally flirting with rhea right now." you squinted your eyes, seeing dominik flirting with one of your friends. "shit." you muttered.
"i never see you in our parties, what brings you here, pretty girl?" it was clear that he was flirting with you. "i'm looking for becky." you admitted, hoping that he would have an idea about her whereabouts. "lynch? she's upstairs!" your eyes widened in surprise. "oh, thanks." you stood up from your seat, only to have him follow you. "i don't need you to help me, jey." you glared at him. "baby, this is a frat party. everyone's either drunk or horny, of course i'm gonna be a gentleman." he winked at you.
turns out, becky wasn't upstairs. you couldn't find her. you spotted your friends and asked if any of them had the dorm keys, but to your luck, becky had all of the keys, being the head-girl. "fucking hell." you muttered once again, still having jey following you. "you look like you need a drink." he passed you a red cup. you decided to let your guard down for a bit. might as well just get shit-faced while looking for becky, you thought. "don't try to get me drunk, uso." you glared at him once again. "i'm not! just offering you a drink." you took a shot of the alcoholic drink.
jey didn't know why he kept following you. earlier, he had girls swarming around him, wanting his attention–but as soon as he spotted you, all his attention diverted to you. he actually knew who you were. (y/n) (l/n), contradicting to all the assholes frat boys, he admired you. you were a year younger than him, but you were smarter than everyone in this frat house combined. “hi jey, you busy now?” one of the girls greeted him with a wink. “yeah, with (y/n) now.” he replied, nudging you. you side-eyed him, not knowing what to do.
“fuck was that?” “it’s tiring being most wanted.” jey replied with smirk. the people around you were unfamiliar, you saw a couple of your girls leaving with their boyfriends. you sighed as you took another sip of your drink. “you know what, i’m just gonna stay at the library.” jey immediately shook his head. “and do what? helping mr. heyman with his chores? fuck that, come on. have fun, it’s seth’s last party here.” he was right. seth was graduating soon and you didn’t even attend his parties till now. “i guess you’re right.” you replied, earning a grin from him.
the alcohol got a bit in your head. “i should stop drinking now.” jey noticed that your face was slightly red, he didn’t want you to go full drunk and have nowhere to stay, so he took your cup. “right, enough break time, you still wanna look for becky or do you want me to get dom?” you shook your head, feeling a bit fuzzy. “no, no! don’t get dom. he might take me to his weed-ridden room.” you pouted in annoyance. “please help me find becks.” jey couldn’t resist your stupid fucking pout. he helped you get off the chair, dragging you around–he felt bad now.
you were never one to go out a lot with your sorority girls, so pity flared inside him. you just wanted to go back. “yoooo, who are you with?” you turned your head around and spotted his twin. jimmy uso, college heartthrob that asked you for help in last year’s chemistry. “oh shit, (y/n)! you’re with my brother now?” jey shook his head. “nah man, trying to find becky or seth for her.” jimmy saw your tipsy state. “dawg, i hope you find them soon. last time i saw them was like 2 hours ago, you know how good they are in hiding.”
the situation became slightly overwhelming for you. you dropped jey’s hand. “jey, bro. it’s okay, enjoy the party. sorry i bothered you. i’ll just stay in the library till becky comes back, thanks for your help though.” there was a slight disappointment in his eyes. “it’s getting kinda crowded here too, you wanna bounce?” he stepped on his cigarette.
so there you were, in his car, driving up north to the nearest city beach to watch the sunrise. at first you declined, wanting to stay behind in the library as it was open 24/7. but it wasn’t safe. it was a public library and you were tipsy. you had no choice but to trust this frat boy who was bopping his head to mf doom. you were closing your eyes, your phone died, and you had no hopes in reaching becky. you just hoped that she was somewhere safe with her silly boyfriend.
“you alright there?” you opened your eyes. “yeah. shit, we’re here?” jey nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt. “come on, the sun is about to rise!” he smiled, opening the door for you. “god, calm down! i’m having a headache.” his hands intertwined with yours as he guided you to the beach. it was empty and you felt really comfortable. the warm breeze of the ocean tingled your skin, making you shiver a bit. “here, take my jacket.” you rolled your eyes and proceeded to chuckle. “that’s kinda cheesy, but i’ll take it. since it’s fucking freezing out here.”
the two of you sat in silence, the sounds waves filling up your eardrums. “you know, i like this beach.” he blurted out. “huh?” “i don't take people here. it's kinda like a secret spot when it gets overwhelming. i know i give off a fuckboy vibe or so, but i like being alone too. despite all the gossips about me, i’m just a law student trying to get my degree.” he chuckled, pouring his heart out. “and why are you telling me this?” you asked, feeling confused.
“don’t know, just feel like i needed to clear things up about myself.” you nodded at his statement. since you were already talking to him, you might as well spill your heart out. “i had a crush on you back in my first year. saw you during orientation and i thought ‘damn, that dude is hot’ but you were still dating… what was her name? felicia? yeah.” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up. you didn’t know if you were drunk or not but you just had to say it. “you’re lying.” jey stated. “am not! ask dominik, he knows all the tea.” you added.
“if we’re being honest with each other now,” jey played with the sand using his shoe. “i actually knew who you were. that talk at the party? that was all bullshit. i just wanted to talk to you, but you’re so untouchable.” jey confessed. he saw you as one of the girls he wouldn't mess around with. jey could get any girl he wanted, but you? with all of your achievements and this 'cold' persona? he didn't want to mess with you. the crush he had on you was pure and genuine.
you made eye-contact again with him, this time–he had a smile plastered on his face. “of course i knew who you were! damn, do you realize you have a lot of people looking up to you?” he questioned. “no, i do not.” “fuck, (y/n). all the boys want you.” the man sighed. “that doesn't matter to me.” the sun was rising up, causing the two of you to break eye-contact.
the scenery was breathtaking. jey uso was nervous, for the first time in his life. “gotta be honest, i had a crush on you too. i think it was your second year? but i thought you were dating dom so i backed off.” “no way, the dominik effect worked on some people.” you joked. the atmosphere became warmer as you felt him move closer to you. “i think my biggest regret was not talking to you in my remaining college years.” jey sighed, knowing that his time with you in the campus ground was limited.
“well, since we know each other now, how bout we start from the beginning? i’m (y/n), med student. a part of damage ctrl, i can probably do any assignments and can help you with all of your classes.” you offered him a hand. “and i’m jey uso, head-boy of the bloodline. i’m failing my classes and i recently developed a crush again on one of the sorority girls who can definitely kick my ass.” the two of you laughed at each other.
you continued talking to him about everything; life, academics, love, friendships, even your weird cousins. "it's getting so fucking cold, we should go back." jey suggested. "but becky..." you muttered. "you can stay in my room, i'll sneak you in from the window. the security won't check my floor. i can stay with jimmy." he sat up, brushing the sand from his pants. "actually, thinking about it. i wouldn't mind a jey uso right next to me in bed."
a/n: first time writing jey how are we feeling heart4reigns nation?? hope u enjoyed it as much as i did!! feedbacks/requests are highly appreciated!!
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invaderlynx · 6 months
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There’s a common headcanon that Bly took his own life after realizing what he’d done during Order 66. My brain decided to make that ten times worse for some reason:
Bly is a very competent officer. He’s a marshal commander—and a damn good one at that. For that reason, I can’t see him killing himself on a campaign, either by enemy fire or otherwise. He wouldn’t want to leave his men in a lurch, make more trouble for them than he had to, or endanger them in any way. So I’d have to imagine that if he had suicidal designs, he’d probably act on them while on leave. And where exactly do most troopers end up on leave? Coruscant.
____
Fox gets the call early in the morning. The war’s been over for weeks, but he’s still bone-tired. The fighting may be finished, but Coruscant has never conformed to the war’s schedule. He’s just as busy as he was before, if not more so. It weighs on him. Heavily.
The message is simple enough. A clone officer was found dead in his quarters with a blaster bolt through his brain, apparently self-inflicted. Fox doesn’t blame him, the poor bastard. Force knows he’s seen his fair share of suicides. Hell, he’s considered it himself.
Since the clone was a high ranking officer of the GAR, standard protocol dictates that the military police examine the body to rule out any evidence of foul play. Fox is about to dispatch a forensic squad when he finally gets to the CC number associated with the request. His blood runs cold. CC-5052.
Fox doesn’t send the requisite medical team. He goes himself. He’d trust his men with his life, but he doesn’t trust anyone but himself to care for his brother. His vod’ika.
____
The last time he saw Bly was months before the end of the war. Months before the incident with Rex’s ARC, before everything fell apart.
It was the last time all four of them were together. Wolffe, Cody, Bly, and himself, all crammed into a little back room booth at 79’s. Fox can’t remember what they were celebrating that day. Perhaps it was just the fact that they were all together again. 
Bly was just on the wrong side of tipsy—his tattooed cheeks flushed red and glowing in the neon light—but he was happy. Cody was goading him on about something having to do with General Secura. Like he was any better, the hypocrite. Wolffe had loudly pointed this out and then promptly spilled his drink when Cody gave him a shove. 
Fox felt lighter that night than he had in weeks, the bone-deep stress of Coruscant dissipating in the presence of his brothers. Surrounded by the people he loved most in the galaxy with the warm thrum of liquor in his veins, the war seemed distant. The incessant demands of the chancellor and Senate could wait, at least for a few hours. The most pressing thing for him right now was trying to rescue his drink from Cody and Wolffe’s play-fighting. 
When the night was over, Fox was saddled with the task of getting Bly back to his rooms in one piece. The whole way Bly had gushed into Fox’s shoulder about “Aayla”, his face pressed into the plastoid of Fox’s armor as his brother carried him back. By the end, the sight of his quarters had been a relief. Fox was about ready to strangle him. 
Before he’d gone Bly had hugged him, pulled him in for the most uncoordinated keldabe Fox thinks he’d ever seen, and told him he loved him. Fox can’t remember now if he’d said it back. Maker, he hopes he’d said it back.
____
Fox hesitates at the door to Bly’s quarters. His heart thuds painfully in his chest and his hands shake worse than they ever did during the war. There’s a tight, white-hot fear that’s coiled in his gut, freezing him in place. He forces himself to take a few breaths, ignoring its desperate, keening warnings.
He punches in the door code and steps inside. 
There’s no mistaking the corpse that lies before him. Any lingering hope that his brother might still be alive, that there’s been a mistake, dies in his chest. 
He makes the executive decision to spare Bly the indignity of an autopsy. Call it commander’s privilege. He knows enough forensics to realize that the wound was self-inflicted. He knows enough about Bly too.
He handles the body like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever carried. He gently arranges his brother’s bent limbs, straightens his uniform, closes his eyes. It won’t matter, his remains will be cremated all the same no matter how he looks, but it matters to Fox.
____
He escorts the hover stretcher to the crematorium—an honor guard of one. He’s not sure whether Bly would appreciate the gesture. They hadn’t spoken since Fox had killed that ARC, since he had been summarily declared “dar’manda”. He’s certain he wouldn’t be Bly’s first choice of pallbearer, but their other brothers are scattered across the galaxy or else marching on. Fox will have to do.
The guardsman on duty seems nervous. He’s a shiny and has likely never been around an officer for this long before, let alone one of Fox’s rank. He looks like he wants to ask something. Fox hopes he won’t. He doesn’t trust himself to speak at the moment.
Fox waits as the body is incinerated, standing at parade rest as the flames cast shadows through the small transparisteel window of the capsule. There won’t be anything to take back. This crematorium was designed to handle clone casualties that were never meant to be buried. Whatever ash is left over will be sent to a Coruscant waste facility automatically. 
Fox waits anyway.
Even with the best technology the Republic has to offer, the process still takes about an hour. The kid informs him when it’s over, his voice barely above a squeak. Maker, he’s young. Fox thanks him, taking care to make sure his voice doesn’t shake. Were he and his brothers that young when they left Kamino? 
The walk back to his office is torture. It takes every shred of discipline Kamino ever instilled in him to keep from breaking down. He measures his breaths, his strides, all the way down to his very heartbeat to keep up the appearance of the dutiful commander he’s meant to be.
It’s a mercy when he finally arrives at his destination. The moment the office door is locked behind him his facade cracks. His legs give out at last and he braces his back against the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest. He rips off his helmet, letting it clatter unceremoniously at his side. He curls in on himself. His body shakes with wracking sobs. His vod’ika is gone. He’s gone marching on somewhere Fox can’t follow.
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recurring-polynya · 7 months
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My Top 5 Bleach Filler Characters, Appropos of Nothing
5. Inaba Kagerouza, Reigai Arc
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Inaba is, simply put, the pinnacle of Soul Society worldbuilding. He's got this long dramatic backstory and a bunch of rage bottled up in his chest, but also a guy needs a paycheck, so he's just been doing the R&D grind for a hundred years. He knows a shit-ton about the Dangai, which is relevant to his evil scheme, but it's also just his day job (also the Dangai owns, I want a PhD in "the Dangai"). No one else in Squad 12 seems to have the least bit of beef with him, even after he builds an evil duplicate of every person in the Gotei. Unlike a lot of mad scientist characters, he's good with his weapon. Maybe he's weirdly jacked under his villainous smock?? Also, his evil scheme was generally well thought out, and took into account the fact that the Gotei is a bunch of buffoons. ngl, I kinda wish his plan had succeeded, if only for the fact that it would probably really piss Aizen off.
4. Ran'Tao, Bount Arc
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Everything about Ran'Tao owns, including:
Sexy glasses
Condemned so hard by the Central 46 that they gave her a kidou seal back tattoo
KIDOU. SHOTGUN.
Stabbed Kariya in the gut
Noped out at the end of the arc because Who Needs the Gotei's Shit?
3. Kuchiki Kouga, Zanpakutou Rebellion Arc I think that when you hear the story about how Byakuya was forbidden from marrying Hisana because she was a commoner, you're supposed to feel this great sense of injustice, like wow! Byakuya actually showed character by standing up for his love! And that's great and all, and then you get the Zanpakutou Rebellion Vintage Kuchiki Bullshit Flashbacks and it's like, oh, the last guy they married into the clan mass murdered a bunch of people and then they had to seal him up in a cave and I feel like that's an important piece of context in the entire Kuchiki Family-Being-a-Bitch-About-Who-Byakuya-Marries debacle.
Which isn't to exonerate the Kuchiki, here! It's very clear that Kouga wasn't that bad before he got pushed over the brink by Kuchiki family machinations. I mean, this is very much an Everyone's The Asshole situation.
I love the fact that they never come out and say that Kouga is Byakuya's uncle, but he's very obviously Byakuya's uncle.
I love the fact that he dramatically cut his kenseikan off with his sword and threw them at Ginrei and they made a gree card of it.
I love that he appears to be exactly Renji's height and has one chunk of hair that is the same color as Renji's and he over-accessorizes horrifically, and at best the Squad Six old-timer's had to be like "Byakuya don't do this to us again" when he hired Renji, and at worst there's a chance that Renji the secret baby that was born after Kouga was banished and he was hidden away in the Rukon so he didn't screw up the succession line but he's actually the true Heir to the Kuchiki.
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2. Harugasaki Seizo, standalone episode 313 This dude had a homoerotic rivalry with Ikkaku (doomed, of course, because who could compete with Yumichika?), lost his shinigami powers when he took a blow meant for Ikkaku, and then spent the next hundred years putting his entire pussy into doing laundry for Squad 11. This man invented yearning, even if he did choose the worst possible person in the history of ever as the target of his affection.
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1. Amagai Shuusuke, New Captain Shuusuke Amagai Arc He looks like Ross Poldark. He can't hold his liquor. No one knows who witnessed his Captain's Exam. Ukitake and Kyouraku tried to talk him into a threesome. He was nice to Kira. His bankai was a tuba that made a foghorn noise when it belched out fire. His dad was the shinigami equivalent of a narc, who got done dirty by the Captain-Commander. He fought the Dangai Cleaner and won. I love him more than anything.
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Honorable Mention: Kenryuu and Enryuu, New Captain Shuusuke Amagai Arc Because they are an important reminder that for all the shinigami buffoonery I am forced to witness, day in and day out, some people graduate from Shin'ou, get shikai even, and still can't get hired by the Gotei.
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