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#PLEASE READ SNAKE BOY.
the-dragon-girl-27 · 24 days
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I've had this as a WIP for weeks and decided to finally shut up and post it
anyway oh no i got into metal gear a surprise to nobody i went and drew the one final fantasy ass anime twink who lives in the world of old bearded dudes
bonus: this started as a sketchbook doodle before i decided to make it a whole thing
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I also did the worlds most out of character thing and drew a dude with a beard the result is the exact level of quality you would expect from me attempting to draw a not anime looking man with a beard
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lewisvinga · 3 months
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get his ass ! | lando norris/the grid x fem! reader
summary: y/n was loved among the grid, quickly gaining the title of ‘the mother of the grid’ due to her motherly nature. but when a famous football player says he’d like to take her on a date in an interview, the boys are quick to defend her.
fc; maria isabel
warnings; kinda suggestive pics , curse words
notes; requested! this came later than expected lol, been super tired after a long road trip and was out all day w poor connection😩🥲 don’t mind my lil football reference 🤭🤭 also second pic of the interview was meant to say pretty at the end but it was called off lol😞
masterlist !
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 940,038 others!
yourusername: pov: single mother after a day full of chasing and taking care of her 5 grown children on the paddock
tagged; landonorris, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant, georgerussell63
username: MOTHER IS BACK ON THE PADDOCK
username: i want u fr
landonorris: ‘single mother’ who am i then?😕
yourusername: a grown child who asks me to ‘pretty please’ wipe the grease off of his pizza😁
landonorris: it was disgustingly greasy…🤢
username: LMFAOOAOAO
username: a single mom who works 2 jobs who loves her kids
yourusername: they get on my nerves all the time but i love my grown children 💓
logansargeant: sorry mom
yourusername: you and osc are an exception
alex_albon: oh, wow!
oscarpiastri: 😁
georgerussell63: you trying to say something, y/n….
yourusername: yeah give me carmen
carmenmmundt: i agree!
georgerussell63: wait-
username: you need to open a youtube channel!
username: your fit on the paddock ate today 😩
username: the picture of alex and logan w the snake 😭😭😭😭
username: can always count on y/n for content
yourusername posted to their story!
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[caption 1; baby’s nap time 😴] [caption 2; taking my sons out for lunch 🫶🫶] [caption 3; my new child, surprise! it’s a boy!💙]
Jude Bellingham answers your fan questions!
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,503,028 others!
landonorris: all mine.
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: lando norris…. i thought you’d post this on your jpg account…
landonorris: nope😁
yourusername: could’ve been worse thank u
yourusername: all yours. forever. 🫶
landonorris: always.
username: so y’all saw jude’s interview too…
username: caption was 100% aimed a jude
alex_albon: can i tag him pls
yourusername: no.
landonorris: yes!
yourusername: no or i won’t take you to get kbbq tmrw
alex_albon: sorry lando
username: alex’s comment😭
username: oh wow
username: the 2nd, 4th, n last pic🥴🥴🥴🥴
username: their relationship isn’t a want it’s a NEED
logansargeant: oh!
yourusername: look away pls😞😔
landonorris: no keep looking so you and every other athlete knows she’s mine 😁
username: jealous lando omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫
maxverstappen1: take that tap in merchant!
carlossainz55: yeah and he won against you guys! put some respect on his name 🙄
yourusername: my football rivalry sons…
landonorris: no i agree w max
username: not the culers and merengues of f1 fighting 😭😭
georgerussell63: my eyes!😰😰😰😰
georgerussell63: but that serves him right! y/n is a taken lady!
username: red is HER color, no one can wear read
username: the fit is everything 😍😍
username: need someone to recreate the last pic w 😖😖😣😣
oscarpiastri: i really had to stop lando from posting more exposing pictures, you’re welcome btw mother
landonorris: i had plenty of other ones to choose from…
yourusername: thank u osc😭
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pawnshopbleus · 4 months
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On Top
Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader
Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0
Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.
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Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus. 
Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years. 
“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.” 
Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose. 
You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.
“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?” 
“I cheated,” he sighed. 
Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.
Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.” 
Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”
Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus. 
“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions. 
“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with. 
He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.  
He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last. 
Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.
You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss. 
His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.) 
You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.” 
Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner. 
Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt. 
You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?” 
You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”
With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear. 
Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear. 
The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.
“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel. 
Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something. 
Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it. 
Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you. 
Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more. 
His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. 
He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.
Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion
Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out. 
Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock. 
Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling. 
His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure. 
“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.  
You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly. 
Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.
His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more. 
Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite. 
Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship. 
“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.” 
Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.” 
You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo. 
“My dad can-” 
“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”
“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”
“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?” 
This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow. 
“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan. 
You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth. 
And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night. 
Turns out Snow does land on top.
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Time to study up on straight people sex!
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arminsumi · 5 months
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HE'S GOT A RING ON HIS FINGER
GOJO さとる + fem!reader
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A married dilf Gojo wants you to have his babies! He might not be married for much longer though
Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : smut/18+ content : infidelity, dilf!Gojo, cheating kink, reader cheating on bf, breeding kink, unprotected sex, daddy kink, dirty talk
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Gojo Satoru has a ring on his finger.
You're reminded of all the shit his wife has said to you when you feel the cool metal of his ring against your skin... as he's pinning your wrists together above your head and stuffing his nasty, cheating cock into you from behind while his wife is god knows where and his kids are at a friend's sleepover.
His friends like you. His kids like you. His marriage is falling apart. Gojo wants to have another baby but his wife doesn't, and he happened to come across you — who has a filthy breeding kink, who he met at some soccer event long ago and now has snaked into his home to become a close family friend.
"Y'know my kids love it when you visit. Wanna be their mommy? Yeah? How about you gimme 'nother one... let me knock you up." and he's saying this before he's inside you, his words turn filthier when his fat cock is getting milked by your pussy.
His cockhead is stroking at your G-spot when he says, "Please... jus'... j-jus' take my fucking seed like a good girl, yeah? Let me get that cheatin' pussy pregnant."
He grunts and keeps pounding away at your cunt like he's a starved man, while you're babbling about how good it feels but at the same time he needs to hurry up, because your boyfriend is texting you asking where the hell you are.
So he grabs your phone and tosses it out of sight so you can't see your boy's notifications anymore. It pissed Gojo off, how dare he interrupt you and him? How dare you bother returning to him when you know no one fills your pussy quite like a man who's already fucked babies into another one. As if your boyfriend could compete.
Gojo's face turns sour, he glares at the place where you two connect; your sloppy, squelching little pussy. He's got that kitty creaming and freaking out on his cock.
"You know your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do... you n-need an older man to treat you right, don't you? F-fuck... ah, god baby you're squeezing my cock so perfectly... you're gonna milk out my cum. Fuck. Stay right there and let me fill you. You want daddies babies, don't you? Tell me... tell me you want it. Tell me you want my babies."
As if you could squirm when he's fucked you out on his bed for well over two hours now.
All he needs to tip over the edge is for you to say, "Yes daddy! Gimme your babies!"
And then he's groaning loudly, rolling his eyes back and feeling his whole body shudder as he dumps a fat, sticky load of baby batter deep inside your quivering hole. He stuffs himself as deep as he possibly can so that you feel every inch of that nasty, cheating cock. The skin at the base wrinkles up as his balls squish against your clit.
He's heaving and panting and gasping with you. You're thinking about how his cock is so much bigger than your boyfriend's, and he's thinking about how much tighter your pussy is than his wife's.
Gojo's gone silent, smirkingly admiring how good you look with that afterglow on your face. He's imagining how you'll look with that pregnancy glow one day.
You're gonna look so pretty when you're pregnant with my kids.
He slides his cock out, kisses your shoulder and massages your numb legs.
Gojo's phone goes off, and you ask who it is. He takes one look at the caller ID, and a look at his seed bubbling and spilling out your pussy hole, and says;
"Oh. It's just my future ex-wife."
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months
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*NSFW* The mating habits of Yandere! Animal-Human Monsters
Yandere!Monster men who sometimes forget that their poor darling is a human and misinterprets their actions when it comes to mating. Short drabbles about yanderes trying to seduce their darlings, but the list gets progressively darker the further down you read.
*Warning* dub-con, non-con, yandere possessiveness, dead dove
Yandere!Crow Harpy who was a little disappointed when you refused to move out of your house. You didn't understand why the feathered man seemed so infatuated with you, but after a long while of him begging you to move in with him you agreed, only on the condition that he moved into your home. It wasn't a traditional harpy relationship, but he was ecstatic regardless, deciding that if he couldn't build a nest with you he could at least win your favor as a perfect mate by decorating it. It got on your nerves sometimes, coming home from work to find shiny bits of trash and feathers tucked into every nook and cranny of your home. Eventually the two of you created a list of acceptable "treasure" to bring home, and what you considered to be actual garbage. He spent weeks "decorating" your already furnished house, before one day pulling you into the living room where he had piled every blanket and pillow you owned into a makeshift nest on the floor. His smile was insecure, desperate for your approval as he wrapped you into his large wings, holding you tightly against his warm body before sinking down into the mass of fluffy objects. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest erratically as he gently began placing kisses against your collar.
"I wanted to help build a home with you, so it wasn't yours or mine, but ours. I pray that my attempts to prove I'll keep you and our future children comfortable impressed you..."
Yandere!Merman who couldn't help but feel awestruck by your beauty, often going on long rants about how much you inspire him. It was a chance encounter while you were studying abroad, and you grew emotionally attached to the beautiful man who sang you words of praise. Although he whined whenever you had to leave the beach, the bags under his eyes became deeper as the weeks went on, chronic exhaustion taking it's toll on the merman. Whenever you tried to convince him that his sleep was important, he would only give a dopey smile, responding cryptically about how his secret project was just as important as spending time with you, and that he would have time to sleep once it was all over. One day when you arrived on the beach he was already there, shaking with excitement and impatiently trying to drag you into the ocean before you could get on your snorkeling gear. Deep where the sun barely touched, a huge intricate mural was sculpted into the ocean floor. As your eyes widened in an attempt to take in just how massive the artwork was, following each perfectly symmetrical swirl, two strong arms snaked around your waist with a tired, yet content, sigh. He blew words into your ear that you were somehow able to understand despite the water, as he sunk with you into the middle of the circular masterpiece.
"You take my breath away every time we meet, and I wanted to do the same for you. Please say that, if you could, you would lie here in my arms forever.."
Yandere!Puppy-Hybrid who was always just a ball of energy, a hyperactive sweet heart who couldn't sit still when he was awake. Most of your days together, it was easy to forget that he could even have urges, with how innocent your relationship was, kisses and cuddles but nothing more. As a species who had mating cycles, although he would never tell you out loud, he was always waiting for you to go into heat. But it was taking so long! He did such a good job being a patient boy for you, you didn't even know why he was being so whiny lately, attributing his neediness to his attention seeking personality. But eventually, he took your phone to do some research. At first he was shocked, humans didn't have mating cycles?? How did you know when it was time to make a baby? Then he came across an amazing discovery. Ovulation. It took a couple of months, holding your belly to his face and breathing deeply for a couple of minutes each day, but he finally learned the subtle changes in your scent throughout your cycle. You had no idea what was going on, thinking he was just being extra goofy lately, until he refused to let go one day, tightening his grasp as his breathing turned into heavy pants, grinding your leg in between his.
"Ah.. you can't hide it from me.. I've been waiting for this for so long... Please don't say no..."
Yandere!Humanoid Spider who always did his best to never frighten you. Even when you first met, it was with him holding his hands up and pleading for you not to run away from him in a soothing voice. Despite the lower half of the creature you met in the forest being a giant spider, the top half was such a kind and handsome man that you quickly began to trust him, soon considering him to be a good friend. He was so thoughtful, always raising his hands as a show of surrender, whether he was approaching you from afar and didn't want to startle you or if you were jokingly fighting over something silly. Even amongst humans, he was the one you trusted the most. If you had known anything about spiders though, you would have been more on guard with his overt displays of feebleness, especially after he began telling you how beautiful you were. You didn't even fight back at first when he suddenly grabbed you from, until he bit into your neck. The kind man, no, the monster you thought you knew, wasted no time sliding your pants down as he still held your backside to his chest, chuckling into your shoulder.
"Ah, my stupid little human~ Were you just pretending to be that naive because you wanted me to take you? ❤️"
Yandere!Naga who couldn't feel love in the same way that humans did. As a researcher working towards her doctorate specializing in Naga people and their many sub species, you were overjoyed to meet a small tribe of Naga men who were willing to allow you to enter their home and record their daily lives. There were so many types of Nagas loosely related to snake species still alive today, and they each had their own cultures, languages, and biology. Based on the coloration you couldn't tell what type these men were, but despite not being fluent in their language they were very kind to you. They seemed to have been in a period of mourning before you arrived, and lavished all their attention on you, babbling on in one sided conversations you could only understand a few words of here and there. One phrase they all stated was flattering only for the first few times they repeated it, but quickly became unnerving as they became more comfortable caressing your face and running their fingers through your hair. And when they pulled you into the center of a giant nest, taking turns thrusting their long tongues down your throat and running their hands over your body, trapping you in a pile of cold men staring deep into your soul with hungry eyes, you learned the species they were closest to.
"We need you... We need you..."
Yandere!Humanoid Scorpion who rescued you after a tourist attraction went arry, promising to protect you until you could be rescued. A strong, bulky man who enjoyed holding you (almost too tightly) in his arms whenever his peers came near. Everything was honestly lovely until in the black of night you were awoken by a strange chorus of sounds echoing outside the burrow the hybrids allowed you to sleep in. A blue light illuminated the large home, and as it noticed you finally woke, approached, revealing himself to be the scorpion man who rescued you, glowing with bioluminescence. Before you could ask what was happening, fear struck you like a bolt of lightening seeing a large, inhuman cock emerging from just below his human half. He lunged forward, and you threw up your hands in self defence. Your hands intertwined with his, fighting against him with all of your strength, but the harder you fought, the more excited he grew. You pushed and pulled, but he didn't loosen his hold on you. Eventually it seemed he had enough playing, and threw you effortlessly onto the bed. Tears streamed down your face at your helplessness, but this only widened his smile as he peeled the shirt off your sweaty body.
"There is no need to fear, my mate. As you can see, no one can match my strength. You and our brood shall be safe under my protection.."
Yandere!Humanoid Waterbug disgusted you, from the twitch of his antenna to the flirtatiousness of his voice. The moment you met him on the water of your lake house, there was no escape. Every time you left or returned back home he was effortlessly skating across the waters surface towards you, begging you to come closer. Although you did your best to ignore him, his loud cries for attention eventually wore you down. Maybe if you entertained him just this once he would leave you alone? You approached him calmly, but as soon as you were within reach he grasped your hands tightly, pulling you partially into the water. He spoke sickly sweet words of affection, chilling you more painfully than the cold morning lake water. You tried to turn him down politely, gently pulling at his grip. He pulled you into the water further, swiftly pushing the two of you away from the shore in one kick of his legs, his unamused gaze no longer holding the playful, flirty gleam it had before. One set of hands held yours tightly, while another pair grabbed your head shoving it without warning under the water. You struggled against his grasp, rapidly losing oxygen as you panicked, black spots filling your vision. But before you lost consciousnesses, he brought you back up, still staring into your eyes with cold fury as your lungs felt like they caught fire. He confessed his love again, but when you began sobbing he thrust you face forward into the water again with a painful smack, holding you down beneath him until stopped struggling. In the air once more, snot flowed and mixed freely with your tears as he aggressively smashed his face into yours, fishing out your tongue and biting it harshly.
"There's only one correct answer to my question, (Reader).. Be mine, or die. If I can't have you, then no one can."
Yandere!Marsupial Hybrid you never saw coming. Lost in the Australian outback, you cursed yourself and your impossibly terrible luck. Hybrids and monsters freely roaming the world were terrifying enough, but being in the land where even the greenery was planted by Satan himself? Your phone had lost it's signal about two hours ago, and your jeep died shortly after that. Trudging along by foot, you continuously felt eyes following your every step, and the fear that a giant spider or monster snake was stalking you made you cry for hours as you walked under the merciless sun. On top of the heat and new blisters forming on your soles, you had to use a restroom as well. Quickly surveying the tall bushes to make sure you weren't about to go next to one of Satan's previously mentioned bushes, you pulled down your shorts in discomfort. The feeling of eyes on you hadn't left since your vehicle randomly gave out despite being double checked before you left the city, but your bladder couldn't care at that moment. A rustle nearby ended your attempt to go before it started, pulling up your shorts so fast it hurt. A hybrid with round ears and a lung brown tail with white spots charged into you, knocking you down. His face was red and slick with tears and sweat, his eyes wide and frantic as he latched his sharp teeth into your neck with excitement. Everything was so fast, with his alternating between feverish rambling and biting into whatever part of your flesh he could reach as he tore off your clothes with a desperation you couldn't comprehend. Tears blended with your own as he kissed, licked and bit every piece of you as he fought your legs open, ignoring your screams of pain.
"You accepted me didn't you?! You knew I chose you! Ah, it hurts! Why'd you put your clothes back o-ah! I need you, I need you now!"
8K notes · View notes
gyuwoncheol · 6 months
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Room Service
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↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes
Pair: Scoups x f!reader
Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).
Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.
Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.
WC: 4.1k
Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.
Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.
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“My good girl.” 
Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 
“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.
It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.
You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.
“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 
“All mine.” 
“I’ll give you all my babies.” 
“Gon’ pump you full.” 
“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 
“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.
“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.
“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 
“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.
“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.
“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.
“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 
“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.
“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 
“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.
You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 
“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.
“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 
“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.
“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’
“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.
“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.
“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.
Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 
Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 
Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 
“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.
You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”
“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 
“Want you to kiss me.” 
Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 
“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.
“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 
“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.
You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 
You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 
“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 
“Please what, baby girl?”
You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 
Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 
"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 
"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 
Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 
"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 
You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 
His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 
Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.
“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.
Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.
"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 
You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 
"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.
Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”
"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 
"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.
"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 
He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 
Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.
"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 
You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 
"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 
Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.
"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.
Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.
In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 
"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 
Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 
"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.
He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.
"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  
"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."
"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”
“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.
"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  
Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 
"I love you, Cheollie." 
"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 
Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 
"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 
"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 
He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 
"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 
"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 
"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 
"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.
"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 
In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 
"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."
"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 
You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.
"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 
You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 
"Was I too much?" 
"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 
Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 
You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 
"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 
"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 
You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 
"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  
You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.
Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.
"Cheollie?" 
"Yeah?"
"I'm ovulating."
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animusrox · 1 month
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[Press Keep Reading For The Full Graded List]
Grade B
63.   God Is a Bullet 64.    No Hard Feelings 65.    Joy Ride 66.    Fair Play 67.     Cocaine Bear 68.    NYAD 69.    Asteroid City 70.    Nowhere 71.    The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster 72.    Divinity 73.    The Equalizer 3 74.    The Last Voyage of the Demeter 75.    Venus 76.    Butcher’s Crossing 77.    Somewhere in Queens 78.    The Persian Version 79.    Boston Strangler 80.    Polite Society 81.    Miguel Wants to Fight 82.    The Color Purple 83.    The Royal Hotel 84.    Saw X 85.    All of Us Strangers 86.    Fallen Leaves 87.    Ferrari 88.    Elemental 89.    Peter Pan & Wendy 90.    Renfield 91.    Cat Person 92.    Scream VI 93.    The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes 94.    BS High 95.    Blue Beetle 96.    Huesera: The Bone Woman 97.    When Evil Lurks 98.    Dark Harvest 99.    A Good Person 100.    Final Cut 101.    Knock at the Cabin 102.    Quiz Lady 103.    Leo 104.    Air 105.    The Super Mario Bros. Movie 106.    Batman: The Doom That Came to Gotham 107.    John Wick: Chapter 4 108.    Beaten to Death 109.    The Wrath of Becky 110.    Passages 111.    Transformers: Rise of the Beasts 112.    Gran Turismo 113.    65 114.    Sick 115.    Sister Death 116.    The Blackening 117.    Please Don’t Destroy: The Treasure of Foggy Mountain 118.    Flamin’ Hot 119.    Nimona 120.    Cobweb 121.    Totally Killer 122.    What’s Love Got to Do with It? 123.     Sharper 124.    Unseen 125.    Dunki 126.    Bird Box Barcelona 127.    The Marvels 128.    Shazam! Fury of the Gods
Grade C
129.   Wildflower 130.    Freelance 131.    M3GAN 132.    Strays 133.    Sympathy for the Devil 134.    Creed III 135.    Chevalier 136.    The Marsh King’s Daughter 137.    A Haunting in Venice 138.    The Little Mermaid 139.    Silent Night 140.    Master Gardener 141.    The Flash 142.    Fast X 143.    The Pope’s Exorcist 144.    Saltburn 145.    Kandahar 146.    Stand 147.    Plane 148.   Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny 149.    Fingernails 150.    Quicksand 151.    Fool’s Paradise 152.    Migration 153.    Rustin 154.    The Covenant 155.    Good Burger 2 156.    The Pod Generation 157.    Alice, Darling 158.    Insidious: The Red Door 159.    Missing 160.    Shotgun Wedding 161.    You Hurt My Feelings 162.    The Boogeyman 163.    Showing Up 164.    Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom 165.    Champions 166.    Consecration 167.    The Nun II 168.    Biosphere 169.    House Party 170.    The Exorcist: Believer 171.    Big George Foreman 172.    Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves 173.    Children of the Corn 174.    The Beanie Bubble 175.    Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania
Grade F
176.    Anyone But You 177.    Marlowe 178.    Paint 179.    Extraction 2 180.    It Lives Inside 181.    Deliver Us 182.    Trolls Band Together 183.    Finestkind 184.    Corner Office 185.    Wish 186.    Prisoner’s Daughter 187.    Pain Hustlers 188.    Foe 189.    The Mother 190.    Old Dads 191.    Ghosted 192.    Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken 193.    Haunted Mansion 194.    Mafia Mamma 195.    Five Nights at Freddy’s 196.    The Machine 197.    Justice League: Warworld 198.    We Have a Ghost 199.    What Comes Around 200.    Legion of Super-Heroes 201.    The Boys in the Boat 202.    Attachment 203.    Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre 204.    About My Father 205.    You People 206.    Meg 2: The Trench 207.    Pathaan 208.    Rebel Moon - Part One: A Child of Fire 209.    Assassin 210.    Dalíland 211.    Vacation Friends 2
Bottom 10
212.    Sound of Freedom 213.    Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey 214.    When You Finish Saving The World 215.    Heart of Stone 216.    Family Switch 217.    Expend4bles 218.    Sweetwater 219.    Hypnotic 220.    80 for Brady 221.    Spinning Gold
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miya-rin · 9 months
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imagine being the miya twins older sister who has had suna rintarou fully enamoured with your existence since he first met you at 15 years old.
he has tried to make many moves on you over the years to no avail; sneakily trying to place his arms around your shoulder before one of your brothers notice and throw the nearest object they can grab his way. not letting you carry anything while hes around, claiming how “youll never have to lift a finger again” if you give him a chance. hell, even dropping down to the floor to tie your shoelaces the second he realises the laces have come loose, taking his time to stand back up afterwards as he slowly rakes his eyes over your figure so he can fully take in every inch of you. every attempt of his to make you swoon for him is met with “sorry sweetheart, still not into minors” and a small ruffle of his hair which gives him a dopey smile. you would think he would start to back off eventually but to your dismay every rejection you have handed to him has just made his desire for you grow stronger - he takes your words as “try again when youre 18”
which is exactly what he does. on his 18th birthday his friends decide to throw him a massive party - being the twins chaperone you had to come along and when suna set his eyes on you, you knew there was no chance of you escaping his antics. you catch him glancing at you multiple times throughout the night before he gets pulled away by one of his guests, a disappointed look in his eyes every time he had to look away from you.
after a couple of hours you decide to step outside onto the balcony to catch some fresh air seeing as there was no sign of the party dying down anytime soon. you’re outside for maybe 5 minutes when you hear the door slide open, you already know who its going to be seeing as he has been trying to catch you alone all night, you turn around to finally face the boy and he looks as ecstatic as ever.
“happy birthday suna.” you swear you can see his soul leave his body the second those words leave your mouth, its not the first time youve said it to him tonight - youre not that cruel as to not wish the poor boy a happy birthday on his special day - but everything that comes out of your mouth looks like it sends him to heaven and back.
“thankyou yn, i appreciate you being here, but then again, i know you cant spend more that a week away from me because youre just so obsessed with me.”
“wow, am i that easy to read?” you chuckle along with him, noticing the way his gaze doesnt stray away from your face while you face forward, “so, how does it feel finally being legal?”
“incredible, it means you can finally give me a chance.” he doesnt miss the way you sigh at his words.
“suna we’v-“
“i know that we’ve been over this, but i don’t really think you mean it,” this gains an eye roll from you, “plus, my one wish when i blew out my candles was that you would give me a kiss.”
“really? well i guess your going to have to go without this year.”
“it was my birthday wish, youre not gonna deny me that are you?”
“yknow, if you tell your wish to someone it doesnt come true right?”
“yn…please,” his voice is barely above a whisper, he sounds desperate, “i have been waiting for three years, all i ask for is one kiss, just one.”
“i think youre forgetting that im 22 and you are freshly 18.”
“im still 18 though.”
“hm… you make a good point,” you see the way he perks up slightly at your evaluation, a hopeful look becoming more prominent in his eyes, “one kiss. let it be my official gift for the birthday boy.” you might have well as told him he had just one the lottery, anyone who walked past the sliding door would think you had due to the way his smile was so wide.
“thankyou” is all he can muster up before he is snaking his hand up your body and with a hand tangled up in your hair he leans down until his lips touch yours, you can feel the shit eating grin spread across his face as he gently moves his lips in sync with yours, pulling away slightly to whisper “best birthday ever” before leaning back in <3
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valeskafics · 2 months
Text
"Dirty Picture" - Felix Catton x Reader
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a/n: request from my ride or die @barbiedragon absolute menace that she is sending me all these requests ://// LOVE YOU FAEEE 🩷🩷🩷
Summary: You tease Felix while he's out with the boys.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, size kink, n00ds lol, masturbation m and f, p in v sex, unprotected sex
Word Count: 1,400 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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For someone who seemed to be such a ladies’ man before you got together, it’s quite easy to get Felix riled up. He’s gone out with Farleigh and Oliver for the evening. You were invited, of course, but with a quiz coming up tomorrow, you decide to be responsible and stay in to revise. And it’s all well and good until you receive a text from Farleigh with a picture of Felix. And he looks so goddamn good, shooting you a cheeky wink through the camera, blowing you a kiss. You roll over onto your stomach, pouting slightly, crossing your ankles. You bite down on your lower lip, rubbing your thighs together as you continue gazing at your boyfriend’s handsome face, too grainy on your phone screen to be fully appreciated.
You let out an annoyed sigh and flop over onto your back, pulling up Felix’s number and shooting off a quick text.
You: Miss you xx
Within a minute, your phone chimes with a new notification and you smile as you read it.
Felix: Miss you more, gorgeous. How’s your revision going? Xx
You: Be better if you were here to reward me with a kiss each time I get one of these questions right.
Felix: Aww, I’m sorry, baby. Do you want me to come back?
Immediately you feel a wave of guilt. Just because your night is ruined doesn’t mean you have to fuck up Felix’s.
You: Nooo, no. It’s all good, babe. Just wanted to say I missed you.
Felix: Mind sending Daddy a lil something to keep him going? Can’t stop thinking bout you.
You smirk to yourself. Felix asking for a dirty picture is nothing new, but you always feel a rush of excitement when you do this for him. Your mum had always told you that doing things like this is just asking for trouble, but you can’t bring yourself to give a shit. You adjust your tank top, showing a generous amount of cleavage, and flash the camera a flirty little grin. You send it to Felix, eagerly waiting for his response, knowing how much he fucking loves your tits. His response comes a few minutes later.
Felix: Fuck, baby, you look so fucking good. Can you send Daddy one without the shirt? I’m in the bathroom at the pub right now, fucking my fist, thinking of you.
A video comes through a few moments later and you gasp when you see Felix’s giving you a little smirk before turning the camera to his girthy cock, hand moving up and down along it, the sight making your mouth water. You want nothing more than to be there with him, letting him lift you up onto the bathroom counter and fuck you. Alas, you’re here and he’s there. So, you decide to strip down to your bra and panties, laying back to take a picture for him. It’s a set he bought you from Victoria’s Secret, lacy and red, contrasting gorgeously against your skin. Your tits are practically spilling out of your bra as you take the picture, biting your lip, teasing him with your fingers resting just above the waistband of your panties.
A few minutes later, your phone goes off again and you giggle at Felix’s message.
Felix: You’re actually killing me. Fuck.
You decide to take things a step further, snaking your hand under the fabric of your underwear while you use your free hand to take a video, making sure to moan Felix’s name as wantonly as you can, whining as you stroke your pussy.
“Fuck, Felix, wish it was you, your fingers are so long and thick, need you and your fat cock…”
Pleased with the video, you send it, growing more and more annoyed with each passing moment that you don’t receive a reply. Is Felix too busy fucking drinking with his idiot cousin and stupid friend to compliment you? You let out an annoyed huff and return to your revision, scowling and in a foul mood.
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A mere twenty minutes later, you hear a pounding at your door. Musing that it’s probably the takeaway you ordered, you sigh and get up, unlocking your door, only to see your boyfriend duck under the doorway. Felix lifts you and pins you against the wall, large hands grasping at your thighs as you wrap your limbs around him. He’s so fucking hard as you grind yourself against him, smiling into the kiss.
“You’re such a little tease,” he breathes out, kissing you desperately, “Couldn’t think about staying there when I knew my baby was here, alone, looking the way you did in that picture.”
“I always like looking good for you,” you tease, nipping at his earlobe, making him smile, “I missed you.”
“Aw, you missed your Daddy, little one?” Felix coos, carrying you to the bed, moving to lay down over you, his body weight pinning you in place. He’s so much bigger than you, but never once has it made you feel scared or uncomfortable. You always feel so safe with him. He props himself up on his elbows, hovering over you, his chain dangling in your face as he teases, “Daddy missed you too. Was real naughty of you to send those pictures, baby. Don’t think ‘m gonna go easy on you tonight.”
You giggle, feeling his lips against your throat, teeth grazing against your skin as he tugs the flimsy shirt you wear off your body, leaving you just in that little set. He gazes down at you, running a hand through his hair before murmuring softly.
“So fuckin’ pretty.”
You smile up at him, pulling him back to you by his chain, tugging at his shirt, urging him to get rid of his clothes as fast as possible. You want to see him. Touch him. Feel him. And Felix wants the same. Before long, he’s there, naked in front of you, his long thick cock swaying ever so slightly, the tip leaking with precum. You’re transfixed by the sight, watching as he aligns himself with your pussy, teasing you by pressing the tip against you.
“Beg,” he grins playfully, arching a brow.
You pout, glaring up at Felix, “Seriously?”
“Mhm.”
You sigh before, meeting his gaze again, batting your lashes as you give him a coy smile, “Please, may I have your cock, Daddy? Been dreaming of it all day. Feeling you inside my tight little pussy.”
Felix’s lips part, his eyes nearly rolling back at your words. It only takes a few dirty little words from you to make him completely lose his mind. He presses the fat head of his cock against you, pushing inside. You whine at the stretch as he sheathes himself inside you, painstakingly slow. He’s so fucking long and thick that he doesn’t even fit all the way, the tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot with every cant of his hips. You cling to him, grinding your hips against his, bringing his fingers to circle your clit, feeling him rubbing at it furiously. Felix makes sure you keep your gaze on him, the moment so intense that it’s almost too much to bear.
“So fucking tight, baby,” he rasps in that deep voice of his, “So wet. Feel so perfect around Daddy’s cock.”
“I’m close, Daddy,” you whisper breathily, pressing your lips against his, “So close. Been thinking of you all day. Love you so much.”
In the midst of the carnality of your encounter, there’s a softness as he gazes into your eyes, whispering, “Love you too, baby. So fuckin’ much. Come for me? You look so fuckin’ pretty when you do.”
You nod, your toes curling as that band within you snaps and you reach your peak, soaking his cock, feeling him pull out of you. You move your hand to stroke him, moaning at the fact that he’s so thick you can’t even wrap your hand all the way around him, pressing down on the vein that runs along the underside of cock, faster and faster until he spills himself on your stomach.
Felix collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, peppering kisses all over your face.
“Did so good for me, baby. So good. Love you so much. Rest a bit, then I’ll help you revise.”
You nod, cuddling up to him, “Love you too. So much.”
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sytoran · 4 months
Text
ARSONIST'S LULLABYE
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kinktober day 011 | cheerleader!natasha x player!reader
"don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash" — arsonist’s lullabye, hozier
summary. natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player, both on the field and with the ladies. however, she's always been good at getting what she wants.
rating 18+ | word count 7438 (shittt)
note. natasha is 18 and y/n is 19, y/n is described to be masc-representing (eg. cropped hair, compression tee + grey sweats, tattoos, piercings)
note ii. please please please please take your time to read it, you don't understand how long i've spent pondering over every intricacy in this fic.
note iii. drinking game: take a shot every time i say 'don't fall for the player'
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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Don’t fall for the player.
This was a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.
Students in this renowned college came from all walks of life — from children of billionaires to self-made achievers, from prodigal minds to brilliant brains. One thing stood for certain, though, and that was the infamous Y/N L/N.
It was a rumour, tried and true, that every single girl — regardless of their sexuality, physical appearance, or social status — would all eventually fall under the spell of the school’s “player”. Try as they might, victim after victim fell helplessly for an effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.
The chase never lasted long, a one-sided apex predator hunt. Once you had your eyes set on someone, there was simply no escaping the undeniable fact that the following morning, that girl would wake up in bed next to you.
Problem was, you had this rule, written in stone: Never sleep with a girl more than once.
Alas came the cruel and vicious cycle of girls falling under your spell within milliseconds, only to have their heart shattered within the next twenty-four hours. Sometimes even less.
Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) The wiser ones kept a distance, but either way, one fact stood true, the moment one stepped into Avengers Institution.
Don’t fall for the player.
Little did you know, soon would arrive a thorn in your plans, an unwanted distraction, your ultimate downfall.
All due to an equally irresistible girl by the name of Natasha Romanoff.
***
“You’re fuckin’ impressive for a freshman, Natasha,” Pepper whistles, clapping her on the back. “Consider yourself a member of the Avengers Institution’s cheerleading squad.”
Natasha nods breathlessly, dropping the pom-poms onto the ground. She had just completed a complicated routine for the cheerleading tryouts, a rigorous one with flips and twirls that required pristine balance.
“I guess that’s expected from a girl who was with the Red Room,” Sharon adds, somewhat snidely. She was another freshman trying out for the cheerleading squad, with a snake-like smile that was coated with too much venom to convey any sort of genuineness.
Natasha returns the smile blankly, false emotions overtaking her face like second nature — propriety, expectations, rectitude. She knew what those words meant, when they put emphasis on the Red Room.
The Red Room, in question, was one of the highest-class organisations internationally that trained talented young female cheerleaders. With a near overly-daunting curriculum, payment fees so impossibly high, and only the most renowned instructors, the Red Room was essentially associated with filthy rich wealth and spoiled privileged kids.
And such comes the tragedy of warped views on capitalism and the unfairness of the world. Sharon leans next to Natasha’s ear in the false pretence of picking something up, but her lips move dangerously swiftly and whisper, “Daddy’s money lets you get everything you want, hm?”
It only takes a second, and then the faux-innocent perpetrator briskly moves away as if nothing had occurred. Natasha stands still, the gripe washing over her back like a cold shower. She steels her shoulders, refusing to be provoked. It wasn’t her fault she’d been born with a silver-studded spoon in her mouth.
Shrugging off the strange looks some of the other girls give her, Natasha hides her annoyance by fiddling with her short skirt. Alongside college came the novelty of less-strict clothing etiquette, and that resulted in the most miniscule cheerleading skirts Natasha had ever worn in her life.
“Ready on the count of three,” Carol announces, tapping her clipboard with a ballpoint pen, surveying the expanse of the wide field.
It wasn’t Natasha’s fault she simply got everything she wanted.
“One.”
An invisible force of magnetism pulls Natasha’s gaze to the bleachers above the field, unyielding and unstoppable. There stands a tall and dark figure in a relaxed position, looking directly at her with piercing eyes. A shiver of anticipation sweeps through the air, and Natasha feels goosebumps rise on her skin.
“Two.”
Aloof charisma exudes from the person’s very presence, so compelling and captivating that it takes Natasha a moment to realise that there’s another girl standing next to the enigmatic soul. She’s chatting animatedly, under a false belief that she’s got your attention, but Natasha knows better.
Her eyes travel over the person’s sculpted figure clad in a leather jacket, tacit confidence written in your lazy smirk and composed posture. Electricity erupts in Natasha’s bloodstream, sending shockwaves coursing through her mindwires, forcing her to look back up to your alluring, forsaken eyes.
“Three.”
Natasha’s body moves mechanically, practised and poised. The rhythm thrumming from the portable speaker seeps into her practised muscles without her brain actually registering it, still reeling from the sheer impact of you.
If there was a fracture in her composure, if her routine was ever-so-slightly off, if her legs trembled more than it normally would’ve, Natasha would blame you.
Natasha would blame you and your stupid smirk, your silly leather jacket, your sickeningly magnetic allure. How you made her feel unstoppable with that come-hither gaze, then left her so low when your eyes inevitably left her.
And suddenly, like a golden key slotting into place, the words Natasha had heard whispered in the hallways finally made sense. The coveted prayer that could only be spoken under hushed tones and divine lips.
Don’t fall for the player.
When Natasha finishes the series of tumbles that ignites impressed cheers from the senior cheerleaders, she lifts her lowered eyes back to the bleachers.
Only to find your lips locked with the blonde girl from before, your hands creeping dangerously low on her back. You move like a predator python, the silver piercings in your ears glinting in the light with every of your calculated moves.
A burning feeling courses through Natasha’s veins, like an ugly green monster unfurling gradually, indescribable anger making her jaw tick.
Don’t fall for the player? Well, now that just sounded like a challenge.
***
Natasha makes her way through the crowd of students filing out from the lecture hall. The chatter fades to a background buzz in her ears as she beelines towards a group of more bearable folks.
“No, they’re a sophomore,” Wanda explained, leaning against the locker door.
“Who’re we talking about?” Natasha intercepts with a curious gaze, slinging an arm around Clint lackadaisically. Professor Banner’s lectures were highly educational, but he tended to drone on a little, and she could feel the rising boredom making its slow crescendo into the back of her mind.
Clint raises his eyebrows amusedly, then lowers his voice in humorous dramatisation. “The player.”
Natasha’s face flashes in recognition at your title. Several things flit across her mind in rapid succession — a fetching character, a lofty smirk, and a pretty girl hanging off a forearm.
“So, this uh… What’s her name?” Natasha tries to ask subtly, faking an expression of indifference. Clint, as always, side-eyes her with a playfully accusatory glance. Natasha shrugs with an odd feeling of guilt.
“Well, I’m a sophomore too, so I do have the guilty pleasure of knowing Y/N L/N,” Wanda said with a bit of a grin.
“Knows her in more ways than one!” Sam cackles, ducking as Wanda swipes at him.
Natasha feels that burning feeling rising in her chest again, and perhaps it was due to the knowledge that someone else had experienced being in bed with you — which was arguably silly, because of course you slept with plenty of women, but that didn’t quell her growing unease.
“Was the sex really that good?” Clint asks bluntly, folding his arms as he leans against the locker next to Darcy. Natasha chokes on air.
Wanda only raises an eyebrow, as if to question the poor boy of his doubts of your sexual prowess. Her knowing smirk told a thousand tales, of your sentient being seemingly reincarnated from a Goddess of Sex, of your mighty skillset of lust, the ultimate sapphic enigma.
“You tryna pull a lesbian, birdboy?” Natasha asks dryly, nudging Clint in the rib. The jibe doesn’t even give her that satisfaction. Thinking about you again had unnerved her very skin, causing clammy hands and a dry mouth.
“She leaves all the girls the morning after, though, so don’t get your hopes up,” Wanda sighs wistfully, waving her hand in the air as if she prophesied of a legend. “It’s a one-night-wonder. Kind of like an eclipse. Only happens once, but when it does, it’s really astronomical.”
Natasha flexes her fingers to get her blood flowing. All this talk about your specialised skillset in bed was making her heart flutter, in the best way possible, but maybe that per se was the worst thing possible.
Because she might acknowledge that you were attractive, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to sleep with you, right?
“And that’s why it's a common tongue around here,” Wanda concludes. “Don’t fall for the player. Simple as that.”
On cue, the noise in the hallway comically fades to silence. The gathered crowds of students make way for a quickly striding figure, clad in the same dark clothing Natasha thought about day and night.
Crossing the hallway with an easy purpose and confident composure, you walk past girls who could be seen swooning. Your gaze slides over them casually, sending small smiles here and there but never really quite focusing.
Until your eyes meet Natasha’s, of course. Like a love scene straight out of a drama, your composure cracks fractionally, and your loose confidence is subverted. It only takes a second before your persona snaps back into place.
“Hey, Natasha,” A smooth voice spills out from your angel-crafted lips. Your voice runs over her weak-willed skin, suddenly so vulnerable in your presence, and then you’re gone.
Natasha stills in place, staring after your disappearing figure. Your two words had left such a searing imprint into the front of her mind that it was honestly concerning. The chatter rises again, as if you were never there.
“Looks like you’re Y/N’s next conquest,” Wanda comments, mildly impressed. “Good luck, my friend. Just remember, don’t fall for the player.”
***
Why on earth there was a dorm party on the second day of school was a question that would forever remain unanswered.
Perhaps the adolescent spirit was the root cause of it, free and tameless and reckless, or maybe it was the temptation of alcohol and attractive folks, intoxicating and thrilling.
Either way, Natasha was here for a good time, not a long time.
Her short midnight dress flounces as she makes her way over to the partially occupied couch, the rather risky slit making its way up her thigh to reveal awfully beddable skin.
“Hey, babe!” Wanda calls enthusiastically, waving her over. There’s a Matrix movie playing on the screen, Natasha isn’t clear of which one, and there are students sprawled over the couch, the floor, and on each other.
She ends up playing a game of truth or dare with strangers, driven by warm bodies and the repetitive encouragement to indulge in a little bit of ‘fun’.
“Truth!” Darcy yells drunkenly, almost crushing her red solo cup of cheap alcohol.
“Jeez, woman,” Carol mutters, sighing at the tipsy girl’s antics. “So, truth— ever had a threesome?”
A bunch of ‘ooh’s wave like a ripple through the huddle of students, but Darcy answers with surprisingly quick coherence for a woman on her sixth cup of beer. “Hell yeah,” she drawls. “Y/N and Jane. Best night of my fuckin’ life.”
Natasha feels that wildly uncomfortable feeling of butterflies fluttering — no, thrashing, around in her stomach. It’s absolutely ridiculous that she’s so easily unsettled by you.
Said Jane Foster flushes in her seat, clearly embarrassed at having her sex life exposed. She waves a hand, trying to quiet down the growing hoots and whistles. “I mean, is it really that surprising, guys? I’m definitely not the only one! Okay, jerks, who else has laid with the famed Y/N L/N?”
Immediately, all eleven women in the dorm room have their hands raised. Well, all except Natasha, that is.
“Oh, she’s a free woman!” Valkyrie yells out, pumping her fist, and the crowd of women let out victorious cheers. “Our last standing soldier!”
Natasha smiles awkwardly in the limelight of all these older students, the strangling sensation in her gut growing stronger.
Seriously? ‘The Player’ has already slept with all these pretty girls in her second year? I would never sleep with someone who treats sex so meaninglessly…
Natasha refocuses on the game, dispelling all her thoughts that seemed to constantly circulate around you. In the bleachers, in the hallway, and now in a dorm party…
So why is Y/N L/N a muse in my mind? Why is she so inescapable?
After about six rounds of revealing shameful truths and accepting rather pointless dares, Natasha’s ready to ditch the scene altogether.
She’s barely touched any alcohol, but it was honestly a shame that her imagination was still so lucid. Getting some of that cheap beer into her system would probably help her to relax quicker, and to stop thinking about you.
“Hey, uh,” she whispers to Wanda. The older girl pulls her gaze away from the current life of the party to regard Natasha with a drunken smile.
“What’s up, Nat?” Wanda drawls, sprawling forward a little too close for comfort. Natasha cringes at her beer-tinted breath. Wanda murmurs softly, “Hey, you got a lil somethin’ in your eye. Looks like a little cloud… Oh, that’s just the light. Silly me, silly–”
“Wanda, I’m gonna head back now. Don’t worry about me,” Natasha says, slightly impatiently but affectionate nonetheless, patting Wanda’s head.
“Awh, okay,” Wanda responds drunkenly, breaking off into a little giggle as Natasha gets up. “Hey, Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t fall for the player, yeah?” Wanda asks with an innocent smile, but her eyes are reminiscent of a ghost doing its last haunting. Then Wanda’s gone, gone with the wind, her attention lost to the exhilarating game of truth and dare.
There’s a moment of quiet in Natasha’s mind, save for the explicit Nicki Minaj song playing in the background with lyrics that would make a stripper blush.
She had heard that simple statement all too many times. Almost like she was meant to hear it. Like it was a premonition, a foreshadowing.
With the odd feeling of being defenceless, Natasha makes a beeline for the door. She’s had enough of silly conservations and awful thoughts; conversations that encircled around the subject of The Player, and awful thoughts of hers that always ended up being about you.
However, a shining bottle of cheap alcohol catches Natasha’s attention from the makeshift bartending station, essentially a kitchen counter. “Wouldn’t hurt, I guess,” she mutters under her breath, reaching out to grab a bottle for herself.
“Ah, that beer’s shite. The good one’s in the cupboard.”
Embarrassingly startled by the familiar smooth voice that greets her, Natasha jumps in her own skin. You again, she thinks with such indignation. What kind of sheer audacity did you have to approach her, after you were making out with another girl just the other day–
All coherent thoughts left Natasha’s mind when her eyes rake over your short-sleeve compression shirt that clung to your abdomen and arms like a vacuum-sealed package. Paired with grey sweats, it was such a beguiling mixture of taut muscles and casual wear that had Natasha growing hotter under her skin.
“I guess it’s alright for me to assume I’ve chosen the right attire for today,” you say, folding your arms in a little bit of satisfaction. That has Natasha staring at the black tattoos that decorate your thick forearms, and she’s half-crazed by the alluring sight.
Perhaps you’re showing off a little more than you normally would, but the girl standing before you was one that had invaded your mind for days on end, which was entirely uncharacteristic of your constantly horny brain.
“Can I ask you a question?” Natasha asks snarkily, returning your confidence with her very own crossed arms. Your eyes don’t miss the way her awfully kissable lips form the words on her tongue, and you certainly don’t miss the way her crossed arms push up her cleavage.
You lick your lips imperceptibly, and you notice the way Natasha’s eyes follow the movement with a hawk-like gaze. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” you respond easily, taking a single step closer to the object of your desires.
Natasha scoffs at the pet name, but you can see your close proximity subverts her composure in the slightest. Unable to keep your hands to yourself, you reach out to place your hands on her altar-like hips. She bristles under your touch, but she doesn’t move.
“Why’re you so fucking arrogant?” Natasha finally asks, hating how breathless she sounds, struggling to keep cool as your ring-adorned hands thumb the material of her short dress. You’ve got her entrapped between the kitchen counter and your sinfully sculpted body, with no way of escape. (Not like Natasha was looking for one.)
“Brat.” The dry laugh that sounds from your throat has Natasha’s heart pounding, a choked sound of pleasure caught in the back of her throat. Your big hands have moved to her sides, cradling her waist tenderly but withholding power, as if you’re ready to dig your fingertips into her soft skin at any given moment.
She thinks it’s unfair, the way your eyes are damn near psychedelic. They’re screens of mercury, smouldering and smoking with the way it trails over her body. If you’re a spark of fire, Natasha is a pool of gasoline that feeds your will.
Hot lips slant against Natasha’s ear lobe, taking it between your teeth as she shudders. Natasha’s breathy release of air as she fights to keep silent has you tugging on her earlobe with pure want.
“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, your voice a touch lower than it had been before, your hands tightening its grip on her deadly hips, the metal of your rings cool against her hot skin.
The overwhelming sensation of your big hands, hot lips and sharp teeth is enough to have Natasha’s eyes fluttering shut. She almost loses control of herself, almost lets herself fall victim to your hypnotic touch — But then you pull away, and a desperate little whine nearly falls from Natasha’s lips.
The cheerleader swallows as she stares at your crafted face, your eyes darkened with something far deeper than want, your lips tugged upwards into a devilish smirk.
“My room or yours?”
Natasha would like to say that the rest was a blur, and her alcohol-tainted memories got lost in translation — but it was a shameful and unequivocal statement that she had been entirely sober, and yet recalled every single detail of that night to vivid precision.
***
Natasha remembers you pressing her up against your door, a fervent urgency of lust unlocked within the confines of your dorm.
“So fucking desperate,” you grunt, hips knocking into Natasha’s front as you pin her against the door, lithe legs wrapped around your muscled torso.
“Shut the fuck up,” she spits, throwing her head back as your sharp teeth sink into the softness of her porcelain neck. The edge of your canines are hard and unforgiving, just how Natasha likes it, just how you scatter dark hickeys across her pale skin.
You smirk at her brattiness, finding it an exceptionally arousing trait of hers. “Pretty girl, you’re not the one in charge,” you tease, with your words and with your hands, dragging your fingertips up and under her short dress.
Natasha remembers her fingers twisting into your hair as you play her like a fiddle, teasing and edging and so blatantly talented like a prodigal concertmaster.
She whines as the cool metal of your rings nudges her nipples, her sensitivity skyrocketing with the shock. “More,” she tries to demand, but it ends up sounding like a helpless whimper and your hands move with such purpose.
You don’t help her cause by taking a hardened bud between two fingers and tugging, cries and whimpers following your fingers. Heaven is the way her breasts look all marked up by your mouth, hardened nipples and raw skin dancing in your vision.
Natasha’s nails dig into your hardened abdomen, scraping at your every muscle for all it was worth. It was something about you, something about the look in your eye, something about the way you commandeered her body with such precision and control like it was meant to be.
Natasha remembers her complete relinquishment of power, giving herself up for you, with a sick urge to be fucked within an inch of her life and then some.
Your right hand slides across her damp inner thigh to brush at her demesnes, and the sheer wetness that awaits your fingers makes you growl against her skin. “So fucking wet,” you grunt, peeling apart the thin material of her panties that cling to her sodden pussy with strings of slick.
Natasha wails, face completely flushed and so utterly gorgeous, and you can’t help but meet her lips with clashing tongue and teeth. She moans as your pierced tongue explores her mouth, and you drink up her cries of pleasure.
“Wanna fuck you silly,” you pant against her ear, fingers tracing the outline of her pretty pussy, dragging arousal along with it. Your knee keeps her legs spread nicely apart for the taking, and the vulnerability you bring out of Natasha is perhaps also the hottest thing.
Humiliation is the way Natasha agrees so quickly, nodding dumbly in acquiescence, thinking it would be nice to feel her brain melt to mush with your thick fingers and prodding tongue.
Natasha remembers the earth-shattering pleasure that wracks her body, as you divulge in providing, by leaps and bounds, the best sex she’s ever had.
Three fingers slide in and out of her dripping cunt at a phenomenal pace, and Natasha’s panting like a dog, tight velvet walls clenching around the thickness of your fingers for all it’s worth.
Finger-fucking her against the door like a heaven-descent, you bask in Natasha’s cries of pleasure. It’s never been like this, never been this heated. With Natasha, you felt like you were ascending.
“You’re gonna make a mess on the fucking floor,” you bite, a low gasp caught in the back of your throat. Natasha’s head lolls to the side, high-pitched whimpers making themselves known as she drips down your wrist and her thighs.
Natasha remembers the unravelling, the way her body seizes up out of its own accord, electricity erupting behind her half-lidded eyes.
Your hands dig into the plush of her thighs as you bring Natasha to a stupendous climax. Your fingers curl harshly, hitting her sweet spot and drawing out obscene noises from her.
“Fuck–” Natasha chokes out, high-pitched and breathy and absolutely delightful. Her hips jerk in your hands as your fingers move inside her.
“Another,” you grunt, not a request, and before Natasha can get ahold of her senses your fingers are thrusting again. She wails as your wrist jackhammers into her wet cunt, slick sounds echoing around the four walls of your room.
The second orgasm arrives even more harshly than the first, and Natasha clings onto the broad muscles of your back as you pin her against the door, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.
She thinks she could find solace in the way your arms entrap her in a certain type of warmth, almost as if you don’t want to let her go.
But that would just be a hopeless fantasy, wouldn’t it?
Natasha remembers waking up the next morning to an empty bed.
The morning air is too cold on her bare skin. Your side of the bed isn’t even warm anymore. You must’ve left ages ago, in the dark of the night, and that thought in itself has Natasha choking on emotions she’d rather not feel.
Her clothes are still strewn on the floor and the furniture is a mess, a mockery of how far she’d let you go last night, driven by an inescapable high.
This is the game you play. Toying with girls' hearts like it was child’s play, making them feel like they were one in a million for one night only. All that alluring charisma was ugly and falsified, viewed through rose-tinted glasses.
This is the game you play, and Natasha Romanoff had fallen victim to it.
Don’t fall for the player.
Now, it was just another warning sign that she’d overlooked, and she was just like those other girls, stumbling into your open arms and cocky smirk.
Vehement fury slugs inside the cheerleader, as she forcefully picks up her strewn clothes.
Then she looks around the dorm room, your room, and time stills for a moment.
She’d expected it to be somewhat furnished, like all other dorm rooms were, maybe a cactus in the corner or a poster of a rockstar. Instead, your walls are blank and there isn’t a trophy or an award in sight.
You’re the captain of the football team, above average in academics, yet there isn’t a trace of the mark you’ve left as a student at Avengers Institution. There isn’t a trace that you’re a living, breathing human, with emotions that craft your very humanity.
Scarily enough, she feels like she’s laid in the bed of a complete stranger.
And suddenly, Natasha understands.
Don’t fall for the player.
Suddenly, everything feels a little too real, and Natasha comprehends that the statement holds far more depth than what your reputation suggested.
You were just fucking scared.
Scared of commitment, scared of growing attached, scared of being abandoned. You feared getting your heart broken, and thus you feared the longevity of relationships that involved love and romance.
As Natasha picks up her strewn clothes from the floor, with aching limbs and dishevelled hair, only one statement rings in her mind.
Don’t fall for the player.
“Maybe I will,” Natasha whispers to the ghost of your handsome, misunderstood self in the room. “But haven’t you heard I always get what I want?”
***
You couldn’t fall asleep.
You watch the empty sky as you sit on the empty rooftop of the school at four in the morning, a cigarette hanging limp between your lips. There’s an underlying anger bubbling beneath your skin, an itch that you can’t find, simply stewing there to your frustration.
Romance was bullshit.
It was plainly obvious from the way girls approached you. Flirty eyes and feather-light touches meant only one thing. And they were all so pretty, so who were you to complain, right?
All those girls always ended up in your dorm bed, sweaty and short of breath. Your heart would pound, and your mind would go wild with endless possibilities of what could happen if they just stayed.
“You can stay if you want,” you muttered off-handedly to one of your first few hookups in college. The look that the girl returned was so unimpressed that you never asked that question again.
But it was okay, because sex was something that you were good at, and those girls had their fun. It was okay, even if there was something missing. It was okay that your reputation preceded your identity. Even if those expectations spiralled far beyond your control.
With every passing girl you brought to bed, the gnawing hole in your chest only grew bigger. You craved something that you couldn’t obtain. Even if your heart was crawling out of its ribcage every time a girl breathed your name, every time she laid a hand on your chest.
Last night, Natasha Romanoff took that gaping hole in your chest and ripped it right open.
“Please, Y/N,” Natasha had whined, and there was reverent devotion in the way you held her hips, in the way you pulled her close.
“Stay,” you had wanted to whisper, so badly, so many times, but her hands were streaking red marks down your back and her body was shuddering under yours.
So you kept your forbidden mouth shut and continued to do what you did best. All the ‘what-ifs’ were just hopeless dreams. You couldn’t stay, you couldn’t commit. You weren’t allowed to, not after the expectations that had been set for you.
Romance was bullshit, after all.
“You seem troubled,” a female voice announces from behind you, but you don’t bother to turn back. Taking your silence as consent, the girl sits next to you.
“Give me a light,” the girl says, leaning closer to you, and only then do you turn to look her over. Blonde girl, 5’8, blue eyes. Freshman.
“Sharon Carter, right?” you ask indifferently, and the girl lets out a bemused huff as she makes her comfortable next to you.
“Wow, so you do know every girl in this school,” Sharon comments, and there’s a teasing lilt in her voice that hints at how this is going to end up.
You pull out a cigarette, passing it over to the blonde girl, noting how her fingertips brush over yours for a second too long. “Maybe I do,” you respond with false cockiness, the smirk overtaking your face almost unconsciously.
This is the right thing to do, you convince yourself, as Sharon’s hand creeps to your thigh. One girl after the other. You couldn’t get attached.
“Impressive. Put away your light. It’s healthier to destress in another way,” Sharon whispers, tossing her cigarette to the rough concrete.
What a waste, you think, but then the same could be said about a lot of other things in your life.
For a fraction of a second, you contemplate your existence. You wonder why you’ve ended up this way. What you’ve done to deserve girls throwing themselves at you when you began to despise all of them.
When Sharon brings her lips closer to yours, and you find yourself meeting her halfway, because you’ve done it so many times.
There’s this tugging of your heart that almost feels like guilt, but you shove it down and drag your tongue between a set of lips. All too easily, your hands draw patterns across her chest and her thighs, a mastered craft that came mechanically.
Even if it is the right thing to do, it doesn’t feel right.
Your head is swimming with unbearable thoughts of Natasha Romanoff, and you try to erase her on the tongue of another girl who could never compare.
It doesn’t feel right, but it’s the easy way out, and it’s what’s expected of you.
Always has been.
***
“Fuck, Y/N—” is the first thing Natasha hears when she meanders into the bathroom the morning after.
She had wanted to get an early start on the new morning, but alas, fate had it out for her.
For a while, Natasha is surprised that she isn’t surprised. You’ve got a pretty blonde girl on the bathroom counter, one hand up her skirt and the other twisted in her hair.
The girl throws her head back in a bout of pleasure, and Natasha’s thinking that maybe she looks a little familiar. It’s her cheekbones, strung high like a haughty prick. “Daddy’s money always gets what you want, hm?” rings in her head.
A spark of fire burns any ounce of indifference Natasha has to ashes. Sharon Fucking Carter.
Sharon’s painted nails were digging into the expanse of your shoulder blades, and it looked downright painful. Your dexterous fingers were plunging into her sodden cunt, rendering her barely coherent.
It all looks so wrong, and Natasha wants to crawl out of her skin before the jealousy eats her alive.
“Fucking hypocrite, aren’t you?” Natasha spits venomously, hands clenched into fists of fury, making her presence known.
When Sharon jumps away from you like she’s been burned, Natasha can’t help but let evil glee surge through her stomach. Serves you right, she thinks, staring at your dishevelled hair that somehow only made you look more handsome.
It’s different, this time, with your eyes darting as if you were unsure of yourself. (Astonishing, considering your mean streak of being cold as ice.) There’s resentment in the way your face sets, and a type of hurt that causes Natasha to falter.
“Daddy’s little bitch,” Sharon scoffs, fixing her skirt with no attempt to hide her disdain. “Why don’t you fuck off, huh?”
Natasha scoffs, eyes widening in fractional aggression. “I-”
“You should go, Carter,” you say monotonously, almost defeated but wavering on the edge of frustration.
The blonde girl whips her head around to stare at you with incredulousness written in her wide eyes. She lets out a dry laugh of betrayal. “Fuck, look at the two of you. Match made in hell.”
The bathroom door slams shut with a piercing thud. Both you and Natasha don’t flinch.
“You didn’t have to call Sharon a hypocrite,” you mumble, flicking your head back to look in the mirror.
There’s something off about you that no one else has ever had the privilege of seeing. It makes Natasha’s heart soar and her blood boil simultaneously.
“She wasn’t the one I was calling a hypocrite.”
A moment passes between the two of you where you flick an invisible switch.
“I’m the hypocrite, Romanoff?” you ask, evidently provoked. A crazed look in your eyes draws Natasha’s attention, because you’re putting on a false facade all over again.
“Am I the hypocrite for fucking another girl? It’s all I do, isn’t it? That’s what I’m known for. You don’t get to be so butthurt because you were just a one-night.”
A sickly sourness lines your mouth as you spew words that aren’t true, because your heart was fighting every battle to get to Natasha Romanoff.
“What you’re failing to realise,” Natasha begins stately. “Is that this isn’t about me. Fuck it if I’m just another girl on your ever-growing fuck list. Because maybe I am. But you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re happy.”
“Oh, so now you’re determining my emotions for me,” you retort with as much snark as you can muster. “You weren’t acting this high and mighty last night in my bed.”
“Quit the act,” Natasha scoffs, then letting a bittersweet smile cross her face. “You’re hiding behind weak retorts because you’re scared. Scared of being alone. But you don’t have to be anymore.”
Lost, your hands twitch, and you allow yourself to believe that maybe Natasha is your salvation. Defense mechanisms kick in, but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.
“Sorry to disappoint, Romanoff, but don’t try to play therapist. I’m not some kind of victim you’re going to diagnose,” you sneer. “I’m free to do whatever the fuck I want without your judgment.”
“Free?” Natasha asks, an incredulous look in her eyes. She laughs in mockery with an unwavering gaze. “You’re not free. You can’t go a day without fucking a girl. You’re a prisoner, and you’re shackled by your own desires and wants. Except this time, that luxury has become an addictive coping mechanism.”
Dark eyes flash with a glimmer of danger, and you’re so much like a trapped animal gone hostile that Natasha’s heart breaks a little.
“You’re wrong,” you answer, but your hands are shaking so violently that you hardly seem like the person she once thought you were.
Where complete equilibrium once was, a desperate frenzy of unease is what exudes from you now. Natasha feels a twinge in her heart when you whisper “You’re wrong,” again, this time substantially more quiet and resigned.
“Prove it, then,” Natasha challenges, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your face. Her eyes search yours so desperately, and you’ve stripped naked in front of a hundred girls, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Prove that you’re more than whatever they say about you.”
With the strange urge of tears pricking at your eyes, you stare at Natasha with all the hopelessness any broken heart could muster, and for a moment you can see the doubt in her eyes. Like you’ve disappointed her, just like all the girls who’s hearts you’ve broken.
But when you first kissed Natasha Romanoff, it was never going to be just another one-night, was it?
With the final semblance of humanity in your burden-stricken mortality, you drag a shaky thumb along Natasha’s cheekbones like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, and the deeply-rooted self-loathing inside you fades away, just a little bit.
Your parted lips meet Natasha’s in a prologue to an unfinished symphony. You delve in like she’s your last lifeline, and maybe Natasha is, from the way she rests her fingers on your hips with a gentleness you’ve never experienced.
A carnal urge washes over you, because this time you’re not afraid to admit that you want Natasha Romanoff. You spread your hands, feeling up as much of her as you can, running it down her back then squeezing at her rounded ass—
And then Natasha’s pulling away, and only then do you hear the cluster of footsteps approaching the washroom.
“Tonight,” she whispers with a hint of smirk. Natasha goes on her tippy-toes to press a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then she’s gone.
You stand there with wide eyes, in the washroom where students filter in, lingering with the ghost of Natasha Romanoff’s lips and a piece of your heart melted onto the floor.
***
You were positive you were going to start ripping off your skin if you didn’t start fucking Natasha Romanoff in this exact moment.
But that would be a bad idea, because you were in the middle of a psychology lecture, and Professor Harkness probably wouldn’t appreciate that.
After a torturous hour of you shifting in your seat, you sprint out the lecture hall. Thanking the heavens that it was your last lesson of the day, you dodge and weave through the crowd of students in the hallway.
“Hey, Y/N,” A small group of sophomore girls call out, checking you out like a piece of meat. Normally, their flirtatious winks and little skirts would have you folded in an instant, but you couldn’t wait a moment longer.
You send them a polite smile and continue on your hasteful journey, missing the comical way their faces fall.
Upon your dutiful research, you knew where Natasha’s dorm was located, but you planned to stop by your own dorm to pick up a little something. (Okay, maybe the something wasn’t that little.) You yank open your door with purpose—
Only to find Natasha already sprawled out on your dorm bed, dressed in one of your shirts and nothing else. You almost pass out. Almost.
“Nat,” you groan, locking the door behind you. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“Not before I come, I’m afraid,” Natasha sighs with a pleased smile. She beckons you over with a come-hither motion, spreading her legs in invitation.
You bite back an affected noise in the back of your throat, pushing Natasha back down on to the bed with fervour. With a crushing sense of urgency, you slide your hand between her pretty thighs, not waiting a single moment.
“Slow down,” Natasha instructs, tilting your head up to stare at her blown pupils. “Take your time. Don’t just fuck me. Do it like you mean it.”
Upon hearing those words, a rush of pride washes over you and then you’re so eager to please, desperate to somehow prove yourself.
Your fingers find the hem of her shirt and tug it over her head, revealing the bare mounds that are Natasha’s tits. A shaky exhale leaves your lips as your fingertips experimentally brush over her hardened buds.
“God, you’re built,” Natasha moans, running her hands over the edges and curves of your muscle. It’s tight and taut under her touch, so defined and carved.
You shudder under her explorative touch, returning your attention back to the beautiful girl in front of you.
You were so used to hot, fast, explosive sex that turning back time was such a jarring awakening of everything that you were missing out on.
It put things into perspective, that you had never actually made love. And since this was your first time, you were determined to do it right, especially for Natasha.
You trail open-mouthed kisses down her sternum and stomach, savouring the taste of her skin. Your hands grasp at her tits, enjoying the feel of it in your hands.
You’re experiencing things you never got to experience, like the rise and fall of Natasha’s pale chest, the way her eyelids flutter gently.
Temporarily avoiding where she needed you most, you hear Natasha let out a whine. You tease her hole with your tongue, smearing her slick messily.
“Fuck,” Natasha curses, winding her fingers into your hair. “Please, I need it,” she whines, as you lick at her clit.
“M’kay, baby,” you mumble against her wet folds, because you could never deny Natasha of anything, could you?
You slide your tongue in her twitching pussy, and begin one of the most passionate love-making sessions
You listen out for when Natasha hitches her breath, when her hips stutter, when she mewls out. You learn the instrument of her body, understand and test out the different reactions you can draw out.
After minutes of what seem like pure bliss with erratic breaths and pleading keening, you speed up and the reaction is immaculate.
“Y/N,” Natasha cries, as your tongue goes in and out of her dripping cunt. Her slick goes down her thighs and your chin, making the most obscene noises.
It’s wet and squelching, and you proceed to devour Natasha’s pussy for everything it’s worth.
For a millisecond, Natasha wonders if anyone has ever died from being eaten out too passionately. Erotic Oral Overdrive, maybe.
Her first orgasm comes in a gradual crescendo, her hips rocking in waves as you dutifully match her unwinding.
Natasha lets her eyes flutter shut as the moment overwhelms her senses. Until the silence is finally broken by you.
“Got a little something for you,” you say with a quirked brow, sliding your hand into the bedside cabinet to retrieve that little something.
“Oh, fuck,” Natasha whines, upon seeing the biggest strap-on toy she’s ever had her eyes upon in her life.
You ease in the cock with no amount of trouble, through Natasha’s already slick cunt. You start with a gentle pace, because you’re trying to be slow.
Apparently, Natasha has different plans this time around.
“Harder,” Natasha growls, digging her nails into your muscled back. You let out a low gasp, because you’re already so deep inside her divine pussy, and you didn’t think you could go any deeper.
Gripping her thighs and spreading it as far apart as you can, you thrust impossibly deeper and your hips slap against Natasha’s.
Her eyes roll back, and she arches off the bed as you continue to thrust and make a nest for yourself inside her.
“Y/N, ungh– please, fuck—” Curled toes wrap around your back as she writhes against the bed.
With the way your cock bulges against her skin, you’re quite sure you could actually split Natasha in half. She’s clawing at your back, calling out your name to the ceiling.
When you pull out, Natasha whines, velvet walls clenching tighter around to keep you deep inside. But then you thrust all the way in again and a scream rings around your dorm room.
You don’t give a flying fuck about the noise level as you pound into Natasha, splitting open her pretty little pussy. “So fucking tight and wet,” you moan into her ear. “All for me, baby?”
It’s fucking possesive, the way you manhandle her to look at her rolled-back eyes and slack jaw.
“Mhm– yes! Oh God, yes, please, Y/N!” Natasha shrieks, clenching so tight you swear you can feel her wet pulse through the huge strap-on.
But it isn’t just any strap-on, and Natasha realises this with a breathy gasp, because it’s a squirting strap-on, and then you’re unloading into her ruined cunt with a deep growl.
Natasha wails, legs in the air, as you pump your seed into her pussy. It’s thick and flows out in pumps, and she milks your cock dry.
“Good girl, Nat,” you breathe, rocking in slow motions so she can recover from her high.
Finally, you collapse on top of Natasha as she lets out a breathy laugh. “What happened to not fucking the same girl twice?”
“You’re infuriating,” you grunt, rolling your hips once in retaliation. You delight the small victory of Natasha whimpering under you.
Natasha rolls her eyes at your impertinence, leaning up to press a small kiss on your forehead. “Infuriating? More like irresistible.”
It’s your turn to laugh, grasping her hips and pulling her impossibly closer. “You’re right,” you whisper truthfully. You think you could stay like this forever.
“Stay if you dare,” Natasha whispers, letting her hand trace over the curvature of your angled face. As you lay above her, you turn your head so that your lips brush against her palm.
Your warm lips are so delicate that Natasha could almost weep, and that’s all the response she needs before breathing a gentle sigh, hence letting sleep drift her consciousness away.
For the first night amongst many, a quiet calm settles in your dorm room ‘til the sun rises again.
***
Don’t fall for the player.
Once upon a time, that used to be a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.
Tried and true, was the rumour that every single girl in this school would eventually fall victim to The Player’s effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.
And this might be true, because whenever you strolled the hallways or scored a touchdown, you were bound to have admirers cheering your name or flirty winks thrown in your way — However, there was a catalyst. A change, if you would.
Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) What used to be a smooth mouth and wandering hands became a delicate kind of control, saved for only one particular student.
Gone was your blatant charisma and swagger in treating other girls, because now there was only one on your mind — Natasha Romanoff. Be it in on the bleachers, in the hallways, or during dorm parties, never were you seen without the girl who always got what she wanted.
And that included the very subject of the mantra that defined Avengers Institution:
Don’t fall for the player.
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so... this was one full month of work. i've never been this dedicated to a singular project. wow. uh, please reblog. it's the only true way of supporting your little creators on this app, so help me out here. thanks for reading. out of curiosity, which part did you like the most?
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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papercorgiworld · 2 months
Text
A good morning
Draco, Mattheo, Enzo, Theo and Blaise
Alternatively: It’s like breakfast in bed and heaven to you. And not in the sweet way, but in the smutty way.
Based on this lovely request, I bring you pure porn, no plot. Warning: oral f!receiving, munch alarm!
Writing smut for five guys, a total of 3000+ words of pure porn, sheerly focused on eating you out, is not something I’ll be doing again anytime soon. As fun as this was to write it was seriously brain wrecking. Soo much smuttt! I really hope you enjoy this one!! Happy readings! Enjoy your boyfriends being good boys.
Read ‘Another good morning’, where you return the favour to our Slytherin boys.
Draco
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Draco had been an ass to you the night before and he knew it. As soon as he woke up and saw your sleeping figure, guilt washed over him. You were too good for him and you had proven it to him yet again by being understanding and forgiving, while all he did was complain.
Merlin, why can’t I treat her right. He snuggles close to you and lets his hand wander over your body. He places a soft kiss on your shoulder and can’t keep himself from sliding his hand under your night dress. When your still half asleep figure wiggles closer to him and a content smile starts to tug on your lips, Draco feels like he's on to something. Maybe he could still treat you right.
Calm but at the same time burning with eagerness he moves the sheets and pushes your dress up. He starts kissing your thighs, just near your panties, and his hands slide to your ass. “(Y/n), sweetie, move for me.” He whispers and gently lifts your hips to fully take off the piece of lingerie. “Draco?” You murmur as you feel him undress you. He shushes you. “Let me please you.” He whispers and you feel his breath between your legs. For a moment your eyes flutter open, but as soon as you feel him pepper your pussy with kisses you close your eyes allowing yourself to fully enjoy this moment of bliss without asking questions.
He wants to be a true gentleman and doesn’t waste time teasing, but also doesn’t move too quickly. He needs you to enjoy every movement of his tongue as he fucks you with his mouth. He snakes an arm around your waist and starts to move more rapidly sending waves of pleasure through your body. You desperately breathe his name as his tongue circles your sensitive spot. When your moans turn into whimpers Draco’s hunger for you grows. “Let me taste more of you, please (y/n).” Draco was rarely this soft and needy for you and you had forgotten how weak you were for his pleading voice.
You were so close and when Draco starts pushing his face into your pussy like a madman you climax and your hand reaches for his hair. With your fingers entangled in his hair he continues to feast on you as you enjoy your high. “What was that all about?” You murmur still coming down from your orgasm as Draco lays down next to you. He cups your cheek and his thumb caresses your blushed face. “Good girlfriends deserve good mornings.” A content smirk tugs on his lips as he admires your beauty. “I could wake up next to you for the rest of my life.” He confesses with his eyes glued to yours. You smile and snuggle closer to him. “Are you going to be between my legs every morning?” You nudge your nose against his with a playful smile. He kisses you long and passionately. “If that’s what the lady wants then that’s what the lady will have.”
Mattheo
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Due to his absence during class Slughorn had left Mattheo’s name off of his selected list, which meant that he had to sit out the next dinner party. Nothing Mattheo normally would care about, but he really wanted to spend some time with you. Also, you weren’t too pleased with him either, because Slughorn’s parties were much more enjoyable with Mattheo present. So, Mattheo had promised to meet you in your room after the party.
Catching Mattheo in a romantic mood was rare, but it happened. Candles, music, drinks and snacks. He had it all prepared, but it had been a long day and you stayed away a little longer. When you finally did return to your room no apologies for your delay were necessary since Mattheo had fallen asleep. Exhausted yourself you had changed and joined him in your bed. A very sleepy Mattheo welcomed you in his arms. “There’s my pumpkin.” Is all he had muttered, before drifting back to sleep.
The next morning, however, Mattheo cursed himself. He really wanted to spend time with you. You were the first person he had ever loved so intensely and you were like air, he needed you. Frustrated with himself Mattheo decides to get out of bed, but as soon as he leaves you start to move, looking for his warmth. He watches you with adoring eyes and it takes him a moment to notice the sheets have left you rather exposed.
Scanning up your thighs, he bites his lip as his eyes stick to your panties. Really, just that lacy thing between me and your wonderful pussy. Fuck, princess. Gently his fingers move over your legs as he settles between them. He places a featherlight kiss on your bellybutton and looks up to see if you’re still asleep. With his eyes locked on your blissful face his lips brush down from your navel to your panties. As his lips move down, he simultaneously lowers your panties.
You slightly stir in your sleep and your boyfriend looks up at you with a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, love, I’m going to be good.” His husky voice soothes you, but a part of you registers his breath on your bare pussy. However, you’re too sleepy to fully process what he’s up to. Now that your panties are low enough you’re finally exposed and Mattheo places a soft kiss on his target. His grip on your thighs thightens, making you more aware of his whereabouts. “Mattheo?” You whine still half asleep, making him smirk. Slowly you’re starting to realize that Mattheo has partly undressed you and your eyes start to flutter.
He’s so horny for you, he feels himself get rock hard and doesn’t waste any more time. His tongue enters you without any teasing, just hunger, and he eagerly presses his face between your legs. Your eyes fling open and your hand instinctively reaches down, grabbing a handful of Mattheo’s hair. You gently tug his curls as your body tenses in reaction to the suddenness of his actions. However, Mattheo ignores your soft grip on his hair and even pushes his face deeper in between your legs, showing you his eagerness. With your mouth slightly agape, the first desperate sounds leave your lips. Instead of tugging on his hair you gently move your fingers over his skull, telling him how well he’s doing. When his tongue starts moving over your sensitive spot you buck your hips his way. “Please.” You manage to whine between moans.
Just hearing your needy voice and tasting you has Mattheo’s dick covered with precum. Gonna have to fucking marry this one. His hands move to your butt, squeezing it like he owns your body. “Mah-Maath.” You try to cry his name but you can’t make a proper sound as you come on his tongue. Mattheo now fully stains his pants as he feels your body tense and relax under his touch. “Was that last sound supposed to be my name?” He chuckles as he wipes his soaked mouth with the back of his hand. You sigh content, exhausted and slightly annoyed with his mockery. He crawls over you and gives you a soft kiss on your cheek. "Good morning, love.” You huff. “Don’t ever do that again.” You breath out, he had you feeling too many emotions at once and you felt like you would never recover. Mattheo looks at you confused, you no doubt enjoyed what he had done, but before he can say anything you wrap your arms around him and pull him close. He answers your non-verbal request for a snuggle and hides his face in the crook of your neck, kissing you.
“I love you.” You say and you feel your boyfriend’s smile on your skin. He pushes himself up to look at you, before kissing tenderly. With his lips still lingering on you, he whispers. “I love you more.”
Lorenzo
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You had told him he was in for a big surprise. You had repeated it just this morning, but his mind hadn’t registered it since it was match day. Now you entered his room and he was vast asleep. So much for waiting up for me. Fine. Your loss Berkshire. You didn’t put in any effort to wake him up, knowing that he would regret falling asleep in the morning when he would notice how little you were wearing.
The next morning a still sleepy Enzo snuggled up to you, his hands roaming around your figure. Suddenly his eyes go wide, pupils dilating. He noticed you were still sleeping, so he carefully moved the sheets to reveal you were only wearing a lace top that left nothing to the imagination and didn’t cover your lower half at all.
Enzo pushes himself up to take in the full view. How did I miss out on this. Lorenzo feels himself get unwell as he forgets to breathe. She’s going to be mad and I’m probably not getting any of this for two weeks. His hand softly traces over your hips and naked ass. His eyes fall from your peaceful sleeping face to your beautiful pussy and his sneaky Slytherin side kicks in. Maybe if I just quickly dig in, like a last meal, she can’t take away that which I’ve already had.
Slightly worried he might get himself in more trouble he chews his lips, but his body is already moving to quietly take position between your legs. Very careful not to wake you he moves under the sheets, not really caring about air, all he needed at the moment was you. Getting more and more eager his hands move over your legs spreading them wider, slightly waking you up. “Enzo?” You whisper as you blink a few times, but before you can fully figure out Enzo’s plan you feel his mouth on your folds. His wet and eager tongue slides over and through your folds, sending shivers down your spine. “Wha-ah are you-?” You whine softly as pleasure washes over you.
“I thought that was obvious.” His teasing words vibrate on your saliva covered pussy and your hands grip tight on the sheets, as your boyfriend immediately continues to work miracles with his mouth. “Oh Merlin.” You say before feeling your body fill with ecstasy. “Come on, baby, move for me.” Enzo demands with a surprising neediness in his voice and you happily oblige softly rocking your hips. His tongue starts working on your clit and he sucks your juices like a starved man. While one hand firmly digs into the flesh of your thigh, he can’t help but snake one hand in his pants. Enzo catches himself quietly moaning against your soaking cunt. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He says like you’re the one that’s to blame for the situation you're both in. You arch your back and your fingers grip tighter on the sheets, he really had no right to complain. You were barely awake and you could already feel your orgasm building up.
“Enzo, I’m so-close.” You moan and you feel Enzo’s grip on you tighten. “Me too.” He breathes and returns to play with your sensitive clit. It’s then that you realise that not only is he fucking you with his tongue he’s also working his hard cock. Your mouth falls open and your moaning gets louder as your thoughts wander to his hard member. You throw your head back and cry out his name loud enough to wake up his friends in the next room. Enzo moves the sheets so he can watch you orgasm as he jerks himself. Aside from your own soaking mess you quickly feel Enzo spilling himself on you. He’s making such a mess of things. But the view of your pretty boyfriend enjoying his own high makes up for a lot.
After a moment he comes down, hovering over you and resting on his elbows. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for falling asleep last night.” He gives you a soft peck on the lips and watches you with a guilty smile. “Also, this is what happens if you don’t wear panties.” You chuckle. “Good morning to you too.”
Theodore
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Your relationship with Theo was still young and even though you immediately felt like you had been together since forever, there were still a few things you weren’t used to, like his appetite for you. He was all about sex, but aside from the main dish he liked to snack as well. At midnight at a party he would drag you to the bathroom and fall on his knees to get under your dress. Or pull you into a broom closet in between classes to get under your skirt. And now as he woke up it was the first thing that came to his mind as well.
Time to get the smartest girl to repeat my name like it’s the only word she knows. “Good morning, gorgeous.” His husky voice whispers in your ear, but it sounds distant since you're still vast asleep. He chuckles when he only gets a soft murmur from you in return. He places a kiss on your shoulder, before moving down and pulling up your shirt to kiss your belly. “Why are you wearing clothes? You know I don’t like that.” You’re slowly waking up, but still manage to mutter something that sounds like his name. “Let's get rid of some.” He announces and quickly works down your shorts and panties.
As soon as your cunt is exposed to him he’s on it. Roughly crashing his lips on your pussy, gripping your thighs. Surprised you jerk away, but immediately feel your hips be pulled back. “I’m busy here.” Theo’s raspy voice warns, before kissing your pussy and sliding his tongue through your folds. “Theodore?” You’re baffled at your boyfriend’s new morning greeting. Had you been dating the wrong guys before or was Theo just one of a kind. He eagerly starts eating you out, pulling your hips into his face. What the fuck. You mouth to the ceiling as your eyes roll back. You can barely wrap your head around what you’re feeling, and this early in the morning.
By now you had figured out what Theo loved so much. It wasn’t just the taste of you, it was you whining his name like a needy girl. So you purposely keep quiet as long as possible. This was clearly starting to frustrate the slytherin as he became rougher. Rocking your hips hard and sucking and licking at your cunt like it was his birthright. Your breaths get unstable and you can no longer keep quiet. You try to tell yourself that no other woman would’ve been able to stay silent as long as you did and give in to the pleasure, moaning. Now Theo has all he wanted, except that you aren’t singing his name yet. He moves your legs wider, making you arch your back and grip your pillow tight. As he starts sucking your clit you get squirmy and he expects his name to roll over your lips any moment now, but you do more than just that. “I love you. Theo, I love you.” You pant and he slows down a little to watch you intensely.
His heart squeezes for a moment at your love confession. His arms sneak up to hold your figure and he moves away from your throbbing and soaked cunt to place a sweet kiss just above your navel. “I love you too.” He admits just above a whisper with his eyes on yours. You bite your lip at the wonderful sight. “Now, be good for me and cum.” His tongue mercilessly works on your sensitive nub and you softly cry his name as your eyes get watery due to all the sensations building up. Your body jerks at your release and you reach for his hand, entangling your fingers with his. You continue to whine his name, enjoying your high, while Theo overstimulates your poor pussy. Only when he decides you’ve both had enough he detaches his mouth and lays down next to you with a blissful smile. “I thought you weren’t a morning person?” You question and roll on your side to watch him, your mind still hazy from your orgasm. He chuckles and his eyes roll to you. “Never had a breakfast like this before.” You hide your smile and snuggle against him.
Blaise
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Blaise wasn’t the jealous type, but apparently his friends had been teasing him about how ridiculously beautiful you were and you complimenting Theodore’s flying skills after the game had flipped a switch in him. He ignored you for an hour and then he took you to his room to prove to you that no other man could please you like he could. Having you cry his name would remind everyone you were his and several orgasms would surely make you forget about Theo’s flying skill. The next morning Blaise wraps his arms around your sleeping figure. “Good morning, love of my life.” You hear him whisper and you smile, but are still too sleepy to respond.
Not satisfied with the lack of response Blaise licks his lips and scans your body. The sheets were barely covering you and the only garment you were wearing was one of his shirts. Truly a sight. I’m so lucky to have her. Blaise bites his lip and slowly hoovers over you. Have to make sure she’ll never think about leaving. He kisses your cheek and his hand pushes up the shirt you’re wearing. “You’re my pretty girl, you know that right?” He whispers and you make a soft sleepy sound, making him chuckle. “Okay, sleepyhead.” His hand gently strokes over your thigh and his eyes sink to your pussy. His thumb softly moves over your folds and you murmur something inaudible. “I love you, princess.” You hear him whisper as you feel his lips brush over your hips and thighs, leaving sloppy kisses near your entrance. Your eyes open and roll to your boyfriend in between your legs. The next moment he looks up to you, you lock eyes with him while his mouth is just an inch removed from your entrance.
“May I?” He asks innocently and your eyes roll back. “Please.” You whine already feeling yourself get wetter at the idea, but still in a sleepy state. Teasingly slow his open mouth brushes over your pussy, earning a whimper from you while part of your brain still isn’t fully awake. This man, what had gotten into him? He had some serious explaining to do. His hand presses on your tummy to keep you from squirming as his tongue makes his way to your sensitive spot rushing a jolt of pleasure through your body. You feel yourself get needy for more of him and softly buck your his, making him smile against your wetness. “So pretty.” His mouth doesn’t leave your folds and he starts moving his face into you with hunger, soaking his mouth and chin with your juices. You softly bite your finger to keep yourself from screaming as you feel yourself closing in on your orgasm. “I’m-“ Your words turn into incoherent moans and your hand grips his hand keeping you in place, making him look up to you as he eats your pussy with shiny eyes. He admires your beauty as you moans fall quiet when you cum for him.
Panting, you come down from your high and watch Blaise crawl over you through hooded eyelids. “What did I do to wake up like this?” You ask through unsteady breaths, making him smirk and kiss you. “Just being my girl.” He pulls you into a hug, letting you enjoy the aftermath of your morning orgasm on his chest.
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he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.
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jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).
(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).
since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.
when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.
it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.
it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.
but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.
"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.
and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"
his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?
understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."
he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"
how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?
"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.
he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."
and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.
"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.
you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.
"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"
your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.
his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."
you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.
"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.
"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"
despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.
"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."
his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."
that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.
at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.
but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.
and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"
your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"
her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."
you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."
your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"
you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.
"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"
"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.
"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.
"being forgotten?" your friend asked.
"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.
"you look like you have someone in mind."
a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.
"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.
you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.
"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.
"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."
and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.
you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.
his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"
you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.
"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"
he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.
the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.
you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"
from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.
one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.
"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."
"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.
"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."
you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."
"we miss you so much. see you soon?"
you agreed, thanked her for her help.
"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."
having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.
"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.
"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."
the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.
very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.
you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.
they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."
"what if he's not interested?"
"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."
"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"
your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"
so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.
when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.
you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.
you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.
you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.
a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.
a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.
your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.
you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.
you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.
the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.
"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.
"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"
your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."
you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.
he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"
you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.
during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.
"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.
the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.
even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.
with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.
the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?
"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.
jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.
his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."
with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.
"have a game, sugar, here we go."
you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.
bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.
jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.
his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.
for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.
"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.
you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.
"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.
you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?
"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.
his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.
you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"
without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.
on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.
"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.
"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.
you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.
everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.
so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?
you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.
his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."
"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."
he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."
you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.
you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.
you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.
his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.
the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.
surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.
you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.
the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.
he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.
you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.
"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.
he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"
you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.
the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.
one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.
"alright," you chastised.
"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."
your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.
"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.
"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."
you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.
pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.
you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.
and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?
i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.
careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?
your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.
but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.
the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.
a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.
"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.
"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.
he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."
the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.
"what?" he said, grinning.
you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."
and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.
he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.
what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.
"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.
his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.
you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.
that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.
and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"
and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.
you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.
"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.
and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.
maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.
"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.
"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."
you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.
and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.
too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.
"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.
so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.
your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.
a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.
"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.
it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.
he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."
you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.
"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.
you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.
and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.
you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.
jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"
you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."
his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.
you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"
"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.
he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.
you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.
when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.
"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.
you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.
but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.
as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.
"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.
deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.
and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.
after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.
later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.
after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.
kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.
he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.
his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.
when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.
he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.
you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.
"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.
you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.
you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.
but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.
you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.
the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.
while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.
then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.
you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.
walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.
"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.
his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.
you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.
this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.
"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.
"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.
"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.
he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.
he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.
he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.
you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.
he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.
you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."
you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.
he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.
he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.
"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.
one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.
he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."
"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.
jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."
when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.
"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.
you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.
luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.
you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.
most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.
"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.
the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.
walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.
"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.
he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.
you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.
jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.
you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.
something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.
"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.
you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.
"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.
"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.
you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"
he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.
would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?
the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.
a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.
jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.
"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.
your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.
you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.
the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.
you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."
he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.
as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?
the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.
you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.
it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.
you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.
you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.
"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."
later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.
but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.
"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.
"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.
"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.
you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.
he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.
you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.
"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.
"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"
you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.
you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.
staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.
he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.
you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.
"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."
you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."
never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.
"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."
he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.
"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."
the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.
his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"
you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.
"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"
you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.
he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.
everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.
you should have known it wouldn't last long.
a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.
something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.
maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.
and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.
and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.
a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?
it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.
but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.
and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.
it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.
so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.
still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.
the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.
at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.
"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.
he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."
and that had been the end of that.
so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.
you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.
you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.
"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."
you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.
"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.
he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"
you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."
seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.
and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.
every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.
he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.
he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.
when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.
"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.
when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.
how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?
jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.
you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.
you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.
of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.
until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.
you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.
the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.
the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.
like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.
slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.
it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.
because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.
finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.
in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.
waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.
you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.
"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.
you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.
"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.
you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.
auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."
and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.
the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.
time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.
you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.
you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."
for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.
you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.
you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.
for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.
"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.
you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.
he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"
you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.
"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."
you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.
you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.
"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.
"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.
"yes."
"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.
you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."
there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."
you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."
he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."
you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."
he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.
so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.
he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.
and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.
"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."
he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.
you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."
in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.
when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."
it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.
"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.
you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.
"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.
and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.
it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.
he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.
"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.
"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."
you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.
you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.
you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.
you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.
you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.
"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."
there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.
he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.
that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.
"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.
fin.
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toji-girl · 1 month
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tags; repost (please read, I know it's the day after Valentine's Day and this is a Christmas drabble lol) very self-indulging drabble made into an x reader + fluff + you're Gumi's mom who is a toddler + you're heavily pregnant + soft domestic husband! Toji + decorating the Christmas tree + both truly deserve happiness
"What did I tell you about lifting things?" Toji asked from behind when he caught you trying your best to crouch down to grab the box filled with the tree decorations that your son all but begged for.
He stepped forward and helped you then snaked his large arms under your swollen belly to lift it, your daughter kicked him making your husband chuckle as he buried his face in your hair gently.
You hugged him back enjoying the rare moment like this, the feeling of love flowing between you and him. "Gumi wanted to decorate the tree bad, and I'm only pregnant so I can do things on my own babe."
Toji huffed a little and gently dropped your stomach before turning you around just in time for Megumi to come running in with his dogs hot on his little feet which made him laugh and squeal for you.
"Momma! Momma!" He cried playfully, chubby cheeks pushed into a smile as Toji scooped him up and tickled his chin before handing his son to you, knowing Megumi is a momma's boy no matter what.
His blue eyes which resembled his dads gazed down at the box with a clap as Toji took him again and shooed off the dogs before grabbing the decorations along with Gumi as he walked with you to the living room.
Once Toji had Gumi and the box on the floor he opened the lid and coughed at the small layer of dust that accumulated during the year they were put up in the attic. "I think we should get a new color scheme, what do you think?" You asked looking down at the tote.
For as long as you could remember it was the same, red and green and silver and while that was the classic colors you wanted something new. "Blue!" Megumi requested grabbing an ornament.
"Hold on bud, you need to be careful. Your mom would have my butt if you got hurt." Toji chuckled and lifted his son high in the air to let him put the ornament on the tree as you watched with soft eyes.
Tears gathered and burned from the hormones racking your body, quickly you grabbed your phone off the coffee table and snapped a picture of them with a giggle.
They both looked at you and burst into tears before looking at each other. "Don't cry, momma!" Megumi exclaimed wiggling out of his dad's arms to waddle over to you with his own watery eyes.
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0luv9 · 8 days
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forlorn || mattheo riddle
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Summary: based on this request.
Beware: angst, fluff, slightly aged-up characters, Hufflepuff reader, sweet reader, she/her pronouns used, mostly in second person, jealousy, mistreatment, a little bit of blood, slightly commanding(?) and intimidating Mattheo.
Words: 7.8k (not beta read)
Note: I am sorry luv, I don't think I did justice to the request. I also apologize for taking so long. I still hope you like it, even if it's just a bit. @cat-loves-music
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Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort, or Tom Riddle if you will—for a more humane approach. But then, there's no humanity in the way he's treated. Always an outsider, always a monster.
There is wealth to his name; after all, he is the only living heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, his blood is corrupt, shunned by the very people who kissed the steps his baby feet took. Looked down on by the blood supremacists and not accepted by the other side, the "good side."
Even he was tired of the same sob story. He doesn't even need to introduce himself; they already have a preconceived image of him in their minds. He could try to fix his image in an ideal world, but even then, what would he say?
'Hello, everyone, I'm Mattheo Riddle, son of the man who once threatened your lives. Please welcome me with warm hands.'
Too cliché? Yes, but it's true and the only truth he knew.
Riddle didn't even know why the name Riddle was cursed and didn't know what his father did that made everyone's hate transcend generations. What made their hatred justified and his hate a crime? He didn't know until it was too late.
Mattheo was raised by the only living relative of his, his mother's aunt—the one who died recently. The one who kept all this hidden away from him hid all the Hogwarts' letters, raised him like her own, and protected him until her last breath. She loved him but all within the vicinity of the manor. He didn't know the world that existed beyond those walls.
He knew about the world outside only through the books she'd let him read. He thought it would feel liberating to step off the lavish floors onto the rich earth. It was everything but that.
"But Nona, why can't I go outside?" he remembers asking that silly question when he was about nine. What he wouldn't do to get that naivety back.
"Because, my dear, there are people out there who wouldn't like you. There are bad people outside ready to punish you," he also remembers crying when she told him that. He didn't understand why people would hate him. He just wanted to try the chocolate frogs he read about.
He just wanted to talk to all the different animals out there, the same way he could talk to the garden snakes.
"But I didn't do anything wrong, Nona. Tell them that I'm a good boy. I can even give them some of my toys. Will they like me then?" If only it were that easy. His Nona cried for the first time in front of him then, looking at all the toys he had set onto her lap, looking at her with teary eyes, pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Nona, I promise."
Mattheo didn't understand her tears back then, but now as he stands all alone, those same tears fall out his eyes. It's useless. "They'll know that someday, moon pie. You aren't wrong. They'll know." They'll know? What a fucking joke.
Mattheo tries to enjoy the view in front of him, you know. But how can he? When his batchmates are out there partying and enjoying life, he's been a lone wolf all his life. Yet in moments like this, he seems to forget his old ways of existing.
There's not much he can do anyway; he's not needed anywhere. In fact, they all want him gone. Finding beauty in small things is hard when misery clings to him. There's self-loathing in the way he thinks about the night and himself. There's nothing positive he can say.
You'd think that he must've gotten used to it all by now. No, he hasn't; it only got worse. At least little Mattheo held hope that people would understand someday or the other. Every bit of hope was destroyed by the very people who would've feared him had his father been alive. In moments like this, he wished he could see the man, live as the son they paint him as.
He'd have someone to lean onto then, someone to call his own. At least his father would've loved him. But this last bit of consolidation too was stolen away from him when he got to know that he was a backup plan for his father. Mattheo Riddle was not supposed to exist. His father wanted to live on forever; he was the last option the so-called Dark Lord had, to produce an heir and have them further his cause, and control his life as Tom lived on his last lifeline.
But all of it died with him. Mattheo promised himself that he would never be the man they all expected him to be, the man they wanted to point fingers at. So, he stayed in line. But then he thinks, sometimes, maybe, what if—you know?
He simply stares up at the brightly lit sky, it's a shame that he's the only one out there to appreciate the scenic beauty because he's physically and mentally incapable of appreciating anything, you can't blame him now, can you?
Cold breeze in mid-August, how fucking ridiculous just like this life of his, so unlike his peers, who were out there partying and having the time of their lives, the music vibrating through the walls was like salt on wounds. He'd like to drink a few and chat with his friends but then again, he hasn't got any. And it's the bitter truth that he's not welcome there, he'd be greeted with nasty looks if he tried to enter any such party, they'd all glance his way like the ominous thing he is. It's times like this when he really contemplates it.
Mattheo looks down from the height he's on, no one would care anyway, the fall will kill him, might just give it an actual try unlike those previous attempts- he's been a coward all his life, never ready to face the extremes of life but he has nothing to protect at the moment, he's come far too long, life was never going to be worth it.
He climbs over the railing onto the brick ledge, sitting down for a moment, to take it all in for the last time ever. Mattheo remembers all the whispers that followed him, the suspicious looks passed along the way, those words of disdain- at the same time the thoughts of a happy life enter his mind, it all feels unattainable, in fact, he's so far gone he can't even picture joy, all he sees is bright colours when he thinks of a happy life.
Mattheo had desperately sought relief all his life, but the pain only worsened with time, it's only reasonable to want to end this feeling of hopelessness. The weight of his family's legacy feels heavy on his shoulders. He slouches over and looks down once again, sighing as his eyes shift to the ring on his finger, the other Gaunt ring, he slowly removes it- a pathetic heir he is, he doesn't deserve it, couldn't live up to the name, disappointing both sides of the world.
Maybe they should have destroyed this along with his father's ring but apparently, his dear sweet Nona thought he could change their fate, change the course of history, change the Gaunt legacy for the better, fuck- he couldn't even try and change people's perception about him. Even in this sense, he's nothing like his predecessors, incapable of leaving a mark, of changing the world, be it for the better or the worse. He's just fucking worthless- he fiddles with the ring as he shifts a bit closer to the edge, ready to let go of it.
"Nice ring," he turns around startled, "Mattheo, isn't it?" not Riddle? He hadn't heard his own name in a long time, no one had directly addressed him in years let alone called him by his first name. It all feels foreign, he simply nods not knowing what to say. "Do you mind if I join you?" you don't wait for a response though and carefully bend and climb through the gaps between the two rails, settling down beside him. "Hi, I'm-" he doesn't hear it, he's too focused on your face, you were dolled up, for the party he thinks, but then why are you here of all places? Was this some kind of prank? He steals a glance back at the entrance and the seemingly empty hallway, to see if anyone is waiting for a reaction.
"You know you shouldn't sit so close to the edge, you might fall down," you grab his forearm urging him to move back, your hand feels warm on his skin, it feels unnatural, his hands are always cold. Even though it's on him for a couple of seconds he can't help the multiple emotions going on about in his mind and before he can sort them out, his mouth decides to act on its own, "Why aren't you at the party?" "Oh-" you look disappointed, and he apologises right away, not wanting to upset the only person who had the decency to talk to him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he's quick to defend himself, it's a natural response after all but you only seemed amused, "No, it quite alright, I was just surprised by your voice-" "Is it that bad?" "Gosh no! It's just not what I expected, quite rough, it's nice," you are quick to shut him up, "And about your question, I am annoyed at my friends forcing me to try more drinks and all, I just came up here to relax."
"I can leave if you'd like," you add on as an afterthought, but you really didn't want to go, it was the only place with some peace, unlike the loud corridors and dorms, where you were mad at your friends and were in no mood for a party. "No, it's quite alright, I was just surprised," he tries to lighten the mood, repeating your words jokingly, it works, you laugh and properly look at him instead of the waters ahead.
"Haha so funny," you say in a monotonous voice, trying to act like you didn't just laugh but you can't contain your smile, and he finds it quite beautiful. You look down at the ring between the two of you, "it's a beautiful ring I must say," You compliment it again since he hadn't acknowledged it before. Mattheo thanked you quietly trying to think of a response that might not make you run away from him.
It's been only a few minutes and you've said more nice things to him than he has ever heard in his whole life, it's quite ridiculous when he thinks about it, seemingly you find it quite easy to compliment him. He stays quiet not knowing how to take a compliment, but you don't let the silence continue, you look around trying to find something to talk about and soon enough you start talking and he's glad, "You know about those plants right there?" you point to the shrubs at some distance from the castle walls. Mattheo shakes his head unable to recall if he had seen them before. "It's alright but now that you know, you have something to look forward to this upcoming month!" you smile yet again, cheerful that you have something to share.
"What's special about them?" "It's not the plant itself but the fireflies that live there!" Mattheo tries hard to keep up with your energy and pace, "Why aren't they out now? They aren't migratory, are they?" "That's what makes it special unlike fireflies that are present throughout the summer, these ones light up only for the last week of August," "I'll look forward to it," "You should! I missed it last year and then everyone thought I was lying when I mentioned it." Mattheo frowns, "No one knows about them? Not even the professors?" "The professors would know but it wasn't that serious that I'd take it up to them," Mattheo finds it difficult to relate, he always would let everyone know that he was in the right if the facts favour him because no way in hell would he let anyone see him in the wrong light, he couldn't bear to be in the wrong.
And it slips out his mouth, "I would've argued till they knew I was right," "I don't like arguing though, reminds me of my parents, they parted ways because they argued a lot, so I try to avoid it myself," his lips purse trying to think of an appropriate response, "Anyway, you are in Slytherin right?" it wasn't a question, you just knew, "I'm in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you!" you turn towards him and extend your hand with a smile, he can't help but mirror your smile, "Nice to meet you indeed." Your hand feels soft in his, he was finding it hard to let go but you pull your hand back almost instantly- remembering something, "OH right I forgot, do you like chocolates?" Mattheo was quite taken aback by your energetic self, it was infectious, "Of course you do, it's a silly question, I mean who doesn't like chocolate-" you stop midway and fix him with a scrutinising look, "Unless you are some heartless monster-" "Nah I like chocolate alright," "Good good."
You fish through your jacket's pocket and pull out two chocolate bars, "It's muggle chocolate," you place one in his hand, "Muggle? I've never had muggle candy," Mattheo inspects the small sweet in his hand, "You are missing out then!" you chuckle as you take the wrapper off yours, "I'll eat it tomorrow, thank you," He pockets it and looks ahead with a small smile, tonight's beautiful now that he looks at it.
"You are a muggle born then?" Mattheo can't help but want to know more, because how dare his fucking father go after your lot, "Yep, I was surprised you know? To receive the letter, I thought it was some prank but of course, after a few days I realised how real it was, couldn't have been happier, to be away from home." It's funny because all Mattheo wants to do is go back to the gloomy old mansion and here you were saying the opposite, the stark difference between the two of you was obvious to him.
You ramble on and he listens, it's nothing but enjoyable to listen to mundane stories being narrated with such interest, he finds himself smiling a bit too much, to the point where his face hurts but he doesn't care because you are quite the lovely company to be around.
Muggle-born, the same year as him, Hufflepuff, living with your mom- it's not the best back home he gathers that much. You were angry at your friends and were going to hold a grudge if they didn't apologise. He learned a lot about you in that one hour and learned a few things about him as well, he didn't know he had jokes like that OR you were just too kind to laugh at his bad quips, whatever it was he was grateful because you didn't make him feel bad or like a burden. Mattheo was glad that you were the talkative one and that you didn't expect him to share anything if he wasn't comfortable, also the fact that he didn't want to send you running away by talking more about himself.
He admires the fond smile you wear when you talk, the stars reflect a bit too brightly in your eyes, and he inhales breathing in your scent, it's surreal, the moment. Mattheo didn't quite think properly until you left, wishing him a good night, "it was nice spending time with you, Mattheo!" He wonders if you knew how much it meant to him.
...
He finds out your name the next day and sees you everywhere, it's annoying because he was tired since he couldn't sleep thinking all night about you and now he has to see your face again. Now that he knows you, he can't seem to avoid you, earlier it was easy to be blind but now, everything else seems like a blind spot but you. Or maybe it's that his head is not hanging low, avoiding looking up at people.
Mattheo got over the irritation rather quickly, discreetly looking at you, eyes following every movement of yours. But you don't look at him once, he was just like any other guy to you, the realisation both hurts and feels nice, knowing that you don't demonise him but also the fact that he's no one special either. And maybe, he can live with that.
He notices the large number of people you keep around, you are never alone, always surrounded by a group and you are always the one talking, you are clearly popular. How had he not noticed you before? But then again he knew no one in the school apart from the professors, he never tried to get to know anyone because of course his fate wouldn't allow that.
Mattheo seeks out the solace of the library to keep you out of his mind for a while but the plan doesn't seem to work when he finds the chocolate you gave him in his bag. He simply sighs, knowing that there is no escape, unwarps the sweet and pops it into his mouth, shutting his eyes, and recalls your sweet smile. Warmth takes over his body, it feels nice like this, he has to talk to you once again because that can't be the only interaction he has with you, not when it's all he can think about. He breathes out slowly, staring down at the wrapper and mindlessly reading the information on the back, his jaw tightens as he realizes his stupid pathetic feelings. Mattheo puts the wrapper in his quill case and tries to study with a head full of you.
...
Okay, now it was really starting to bother him, he practically couldn't keep his eyes off you, it's like a spell had charmed him in. He wasn't even trying to be discreet at this point, he downright stared at you from a distance, it was creepy, he was aware of that but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Mattheo doesn't like this new feeling you've instilled in him, it's sweet and it's fucking uncomfortable. He finds it extremely difficult to get rid of you from his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and lets his mind go on autopilot.
The way you talked to him without any judgement in your eyes that day, the images of you repeated over and over again in his mind. Even when he sees you with someone else he can't help but think you are in front of him telling him a story, with those animated expressions of yours, but then seconds later he comes to his senses and sees the smile that's not directed at him, the one you gave to everyone, him too. He thinks it was your pity, that made you talk to him. He didn't feel like he was burdening you then but now when he thinks of approaching you, he knows he'd be burdening you. Your life looks no different, every day is full of joy, and you aren't smiling any less.
Why would you talk to him of all people? Perhaps, you only talked to him that day because you needed a change of scenery and not because you wanted to, he's wrong in thinking that but he's also deluded. It's the only way he keeps himself at peace, to not see meaning in your words, to not long for your company.
But he's a Riddle after all, some things just run in your blood, he has his eyes set on you and he finds it difficult to look away. New dream of his, and he'd like to have it, no matter how unattainable it feels. Yet he hasn't got a clue, it's all too new, and he doesn't know what to do, he'd like to have a plan but what would the plan even say? Go and talk to her? Yeah, like he's about to embarrass himself in front of her.
...
Your eyes stretch at the sight of him sitting in the library, alone but not in some deserted corner, he had claimed the whole couch in the centre of the room, sitting right in the middle, reading a book leaning back, a frown on his face. He looked intimidating, and to be honest, you were scared of him, the little beer in you that night had given you the courage to approach him, maybe your fate was too kind to let you find him that night but now your nerves were on fire.
It was no secret to you that he had been staring at you the past couple of weeks, but you couldn't understand the look on his face, his jaw was always clenched, eyes narrowed, and not a hint of emotion on his face. Was he mad at you? Was he the planning on-
No. You didn't like to think about it, you didn't want him to be the man they paint him as, he's just a boy, your age, maybe that's another reason why you hadn't approached him. Staying away because you were scared that they'd be right, you'd rather delve into what ifs than actually be heartbroken, your imagination brought you bliss.
But would it really be your mind if it would let you just forget it? You think and think, getting worked up over every little interaction you've had with him. How could he be evil? He talked to you so nicely the other day, even- even though you were a muggle-born, a mud blood. But when you see how he looks at you, you can't help but feel scared.
It really was an intimidating sight, your courage wore thin but you had made up your mind. You approach him cautiously, as you greet him, you start feeling jittery and flushed, "Hey Mattheo."
Mattheo jerked his head up as he heard your voice, surprised, caught off guard in fact, he didn't trust his words just yet so he simply nodded at you, acknowledging your presence, closing the book and setting it aside, all his attention on you. "I came here to study and noticed you," you look around bashfully before continuing, "I just wanted to ask you if you liked the chocolate I gave you the other day, you know the one with dark brown wrapper-" "Yeah I did," He stops you from rambling on, not that he had any problem with it but you clearly seemed nervous, he just wanted to ease your nerves, "Right so-" you quickly pull out a small pack of the chocolate from your sling bag placing it beside him, straightening up, "I'll go then, enjoy-" you are quick to turn away from him, cursing yourself in your mind, blaming yourself for making things more awkward than they already were.
Mattheo stops you in your tracks as he calls you by your name, you turn around, and he speaks in that cold voice of his, "You said you were here to study right?" you nod timidly, clutching onto the straps of your bag, he leans back and with a flick of his wrist, a table and chair are summoned in front of him, "then study," he motions to the chair opposite of him.
You were quite taken aback, you stood there for a bit before actually registering his words, and you quietly sat down, you didn't have it in you to disobey him, he was Mattheo Riddle for fucks sake, he looked and sounded like someone who doesn't take no for an answer.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you carefully sit down, looking down, not meeting his gaze, he couldn't believe it, you obliged his wishes? Mattheo leaned back fully, arms folding as he watched you, brown eyes capturing each detail, amusement crawled over his face as he watched you pull out multiple books all at once, various colourful stationery items sprawled out all over the table. You looked pretty like this, stray strands of hair framing your face, lips pursed in concentration. He knew how creepy he was being, so he opened his book again and tried to read but he simply couldn't not when you were sitting in front of him, he relished your presence and this was so unlike the others, every time he had looked at you- you had been surrounded by people, so it was a sight to behold, only for him to admire. So he did, in secret, glancing up at you, every few seconds.
It's been two hours and not once did he get bored of looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face as you closed your books and looked up at him, "How's that book?" you nod towards the book in his hand- the one he was supposed to be reading, "Good, good" he bites the inside of cheek as he lies through his teeth, "Got everything done?" he sets his book aside, fixing you with a soft stare, "Yes, I just wanted to revise a bit, I forget stuff easily if I don't revise regularly," you tilt your head a bit, his eyes were much softer now, and it made your heart flutter a bit, feeling a lot more comfortable than before, so you do what you usually do when you are comfortable- talk.
"By the way, did you study for the upcoming herbology test?" And before he could answer, you pulled out a piece of paper from your bag, "This is like the holy grail, a senior gave it to me last year, it has all the specifics, of recognising plants and how to make generalised guesses about their uses-" you speak in a hushed voice, slightly leaning over the table, eyes wide as you shared your little secret, "you can have it, I have it memorised haha" You bless him with that pretty smile of yours, pushing the paper towards him, you don't let him refuse the offer and start talking about something else, he gives you a small smile, and it makes your insides turn into mush, you bite your lip trying to contain your smile, eyes shy as you start fiddling with your hands on your lap.
You talked for hours, he was much more open this time, and the conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, it was you who mostly did the talking but he didn't seem to mind he looked more than pleased, he didn't like talking much, it seemed, so you filled in the gaps, made it look so effortless like it was easy talking to him, maybe it was easy for you but to him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You two stopped only when the librarian came in and told you it was curfew time, your eyes widened as you turned to look back at him, an amused smile on your face, both of you got up, walking beside each other, not uttering a word till you were out of the librarian's stern gaze.
"I made you miss dinner-" your eyes widened further as soon as the two of you got out, stepping into the empty hallway, "it's alright, I don't mind," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, he chuckled at your antics, "yeah sure, but your stomach would, but- we can sneak into the kitchens, you know, sneak some food out," you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a sheepish grin on your face, he scoffs in disbelief, a fond smile gracing his face, "something tells me, this isn't your first time sneaking around."
"No, it's not," you chuckle a bit before continuing, "So, are you coming or not?" you purse your lips, looking up at him with doe eyes and he questions your motives right then because there's no way you didn't have a clue about what you were doing, "would be an idiot to say no," he muttered under his breath shaking his head, "I didn't catch that-", "Yes, I am."
You give him a pleased smile, you looked so happy at that moment, he was rooted in his position as you started walking ahead of him, he had to look away to catch his breath, "Merlin" he exhaled, a hand reaching over to his chest to soothe his loud thumping heart, and in that moment he knew he was a goner.
"Mattheo-?" you turned around since you didn't hear him walk with you but soon he rushed to your side the moment you looked back, you gave him another smile as he walked beside you, he looked straight ahead then, you needed to stop doing that because no fucking way- would he be able to let go of you.
You lead him to the kitchen, both of you cautious, well just you- he was having the time of his life, getting a detention would be worth it, just a small price to pay. Mattheo repeatedly stole glances here and there, the moment you entered the kitchen, you grabbed his arm and pulled his painfully slow self in, "gosh- you sure do walk slow," you glare at him, but there's no malice in your eyes, instead they are just amused, you roll your eyes when he just shrugs in response, moving over to the tables. Mattheo just looked at you with fond eyes, he was just trying to buy more time with you by walking slowly and he didn't feel one bit guilty about it, he felt a bit too proud. 
You sigh dramatically before returning to him with a small tray in your hands, "I didn't find anything else, apart from these blueberry muffins," your eyes wander around once more trying to see if you missed something, "usually there's still stuff left, that's weird- oh well, at least we have these," you give him a small defeated smile, setting the tray on the table, shrugging as you felt that muffins weren't worth the effort of sneaking around and that you only troubled him further. Mattheo saw through you and he hated that you were feeling that way, "didn't I mention this to you? I love muffins, especially the blueberry ones." he gave you a small smile, picking up the muffin, taking a bite, "yeah, that's good, way better than the dry vegetable and chicken pies they make." He didn't look at you as he said that, but you smiled, realising what he was trying to do, you wanted to cry, why was he being so considerate? You were now beginning to go down a spiral, of all the times you thought of him in the wrong light, how dare you even think like that? 
Mattheo caught you staring and it was hard for him to control the heat that rose to his cheeks, he cleared his throat, "What? You don't like these? Well, guess they are all for me-" he teased, taking the tray in his hand and started walking away, "Hey! No-" you rushed after him with an amused smile, "I want one too," and the tray was shoved back into your hands, "better not eat all of them, yeah?" he gave you a small cheeky wink, leaning against the table, finishing the muffin in his hand. 
Mattheo offered to walk you back to your dorm, he didn't have to insist much, after all, you wanted to spend time with him too, you easily agreed after a couple of tries. You two walked in comfortable silence, as you neared the Hufflepuff dormitory, you were thinking about how you'd part ways, overthinking about what would be appropriate and in the mix of it, you just gave him an awkward side hug, squeezing his arm a bit before mumbling a quick "goodnight" and rushing in. 
He couldn't believe his eyes, were you blushing? No way, he must be imagining things. Mattheo could still feel your warm touch lingering on his side, the scene playing over and over again in his mind, he wanted to scream out of excitement- he was getting cuteness aggression, had to be it, his fists clenched at his side as he stared at the door, for god knows how long, if he could- he would've squeezed you into a bone-crushing hug, but you were quick, left him speechless. 
He walked back to the Slytherin dorm without any trouble, he closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, he was pretty sure his skin was burning with all the warmth that was flowing through his veins. Merlin, he was embarrassing! Mattheo sighed contently, a big smile on his face as he replayed the whole day, your smile- 
...
The next few days, you guys didn't talk at all, he was back to staring and this time, when you did catch him in the act, instead of pretending you didn't see him, you gave him a knowing smile and a wave. Lingering looks, and subtle greetings, were sweet, Mattheo was now on a new high, he couldn't get enough. But for some reason, he maintained his distance, he stuck to looking at you from afar, it felt comfortable this way, not wanting to taint your reputation by talking to you in front of others, he'd talk to you if it was only you but you were never alone. 
Mattheo starts seeing life for what it is, when he looks at the trees outside, the castle in its entirety, he feels like he is seeing it for the first time. How had he missed this? He finds himself back at the astronomy tower, he looks at the lake ahead, it was a sight to behold, and he is starting to appreciate the view, these days he didn't care about much, you were all he could think about and you were more than pleasant, it was as if the grey lens of his life was replaced with a coloured one, and it would be foolish to credit anyone else but you for it, and he was fucking grateful for it. The reason he was here was, that it was the end of August, and the fireflies you so damn wished to see would be out tonight, he came here just in the hope that he'll get to see you alone. 
He was zoning out when some movement near the edge of the lake caught his eye, it was you- with a few of your friends, his smile faltered the moment he saw some blonde Hufflepuff dude pull you to his side, slinging a hand over your shoulder, you all walked towards the shrubs and didn't have to wait long before the fireflies lit up and started raising above the shrubs. He was about to leave, he was mad for some reason, really pissed- but then he took another look at you. You were standing a bit behind your friends, who had all their attention on the flies ahead, you seemed sad, looking down, messing with the soil beneath your shoe, hands in your jacket. Mattheo could make out the pout on your face, the deflated shoulders, you then turned to look right where he was, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.
Your posture straightened immediately, the pretty smile returning to your face as you looked up at the astronomy tower balcony, having spotted him, you waved at him. Mattheo nodded, forearms on the railing as he leaned forward, a smile gracing his features, the anger leaving him. You excitedly pointed at the sky, and he nodded, you turned back around when your friend called you and he couldn't look away, he was staring at you till you left, Mattheo started feeling the warmth creep up to him when he saw you making an effort to steal back glances at him. He felt seen, fucking special- 
...
Mattheo still hadn't talked to you, he couldn't catch you alone really, it was starting to get to him, he longed to hear your voice, hear you talk to him- and yet, he didn't have it in him to approach you in front of others, it would ruin you, you thrived in the company of others, he couldn't snatch that away from you. Maybe if he was a bit more selfish, he'd do it, snatch you away from others, have you all to himself but he wasn't about that life, it was something his father would do, he's sure of it, go after what he wants, not caring what others would think- 
Mattheo feels like passing out when you deliberately look at him just to give him a shy smile, a flushed look on your face. He walks away because he cannot handle looking at you, the urge is too strong, to just take you into his arms, he walks out to the empty hallway, a hand over his chest- it had become a subconscious habit of his, whenever you gave him that smile, the one that felt like it was just reserved for him, yeah that one, he felt like he was in heaven, you sent his heart rate through the roof when you did that, it borderline hurt him since he couldn't do much to satiate this feeling. 
The longing was etched into his eyes when he looked at you, one thing he realised was, that when he had his head up, no one dared to look his way, he was enjoying that power for some reason, it filled his veins with something dark, he liked seeing people look down instead of him looking down, it felt fucking nice, and it felt even better when the only person that did look at him, was you. People averted their eyes when he entered the room, choosing to ignore his presence but the fear was very much evident, so he knew they didn't see him staring at you but at this point, he really couldn't bring himself to make an active effort to look away even if someone noticed. 
It was no lie, that Mattheo wasn't up to date with all the gossip and news, he just lived life passively but now that he was out there more, he couldn't help but hear the words that fell onto his ears, Yule Ball, huh. WAIT- ball dance? That meant having a date, who were you going with? Fuck his mind was rambling shit to him, he could not let someone else take you to a fucking dance as their date, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get to you before someone else did, it was nighttime, and tomorrow's the weekend, approaching you will be the first thing he'll do after he wakes up, he has to plan shit out, you know, make it special and heartfelt, you deserved nothing less.
But his heart nearly broke when he overheard two Slytherin guys talking about you. The way one of them talked about you made his blood boil, his jaw clenched tight, nails drawing blood from his palms as they dug into his coarse skin, "I told you not to ask her out, plenty of guys tried and guess what? She rejected them all." the guy who was being talked to only scoffed angrily, "She's a fucking slut, that's what she is, leading people on-" the other boy just stopped him and Mattheo exhaled, a bit relieved because if it wasn't for him, Mattheo would've smacked the guy and pushed him to the fucking wall, "dude, come on, that's not true, all she did was smile at you when you gave her your seat, she's a nice girl," these guys were in the fifth year, he recognised that much, "sure, whatever," the guy walked away to his room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him. 
Mattheo then gets up and walks towards the guy left behind, the one who stood up for you, when he stands in front of him, he sees the dude cower into the seat, Mattheo tries to speak in a polite voice but the anger is still radiating off him, his irritated stare didn't help either, "she doesn't have a date, yeah?" his hands were behind his back, over one another, the blood still fresh, "who-o?" the guy stutters out, looking around for help but no one was there- "You know who," he fixes him with a glare, before uttering your name out loud, "no no, she doesn't, rejected them all." Mattheo then nods at him and leans back, then finally he walks back to his room, allowing the guy to catch his breath. 
Mattheo feels relief wash over him as he lets the information sink in, okay good, you didn't have a date but then again, why were you rejecting them all? What if you reject him as well? Yeah, he couldn't handle that wound, he'd fucking die, he contemplates whether he should ask you or not but he's done fucking waiting, waiting for his fate to fuck things over, if things are going to be fucked, he'll be the one to do it. 
...
Mattheo puts on a black shirt and black pants, not caring to tuck his shirt in, the cold metal ring stings him as he puts it on, the feeling is grounding, he's doing something his dad would've done and for some reason that doesn't feel half as bad, he feels like himself, it was like something had possessed him, the confidence was unwavering, even as he stepped out into the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, looking ahead, people parted, giving him space and Merlin, did that feel fucking powerful. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the room you'd be in, you always were there on the weekends, with your friends and he didn't think before he stepped into the room, heads turning towards him in shock, even yours but the shock on your face was soon replaced with a smile, quietly waving at him and that right there, fed right into his ego.
He walked over to you in a few quick strides, eyes zeroed in on you, nothing else mattered at that moment, "Can I talk to you?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement, you were ecstatic, you've wanted this for so long, to talk to him in front of others, you never knew if you should because he might've felt uncomfortable, "Yes ofcourse, what is it?" you nod, a smile still on your face, "Alone," his voice was cold, "oh yeah, sure-" you step towards him, thinking he'd lead you somewhere private but he stayed rooted in his place, eyes never leaving yours, he stayed quiet for a bit, taking in your whole self, the bright clothes you were dressed in, the equally bright smile on your face. Then he looked over your head, to the shocked faces of your friends, "Alone." It came out as an order, he couldn't care less. 
Mattheo liked this newfound authority, he also relished in the fact that you were being so compliant as if you wanted this to happen and he couldn't be more glad, "Guys, I'll be back, you can go ahead, don't worry," you explained, seeing their hesitance, his unwavering gaze was back on you, brown eyes were intense. The apprehensive group slowly emptied the room and just went the last person was out, Mattheo muttered something under his breath, and the door slammed shut, locking itself. 
Mattheo cursed that pretty smile of yours before smiling back, "You have a date? For the ball?" you lowered your eyes to the ground at the question, a shy look grazing your features as you shook your head, the more he looked at you, the more positive he got. "Good."  He finally pulled his hands out of his pocket and suddenly there was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand and a velvet box, he wordlessly handed them to you, your eyes were wide, full of amusement, face warm, you noticed how the lights around you got dimmer, the small mock firefly charms that floated in the air, you didn't have a clue on how he was doing all this without his wand but you couldn't bring yourself to think of it, not when you had him standing in front you, in all his glory, about to ask you to the ball, gosh you felt like you were on cloud nine, the guy you were waiting for had actually approached you? You had to be dreaming. 
Then out of nowhere, you hear your favourite song but on strings, you look down at the box curiously- "It's the muggle chocolate you were talking about, the one you said was hard to get your hands on," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal but in reality, he was finding the courage to finally tell you what he was feeling, ask you out. Your brows pinched together, as you noticed that all of it was a muggle, even the flower arrangement- the song, how did he do all of this? You looked up at him with an amused look. "No questions please," he breathed out like he was out of breath, you then smiled at him gratefully, and he quickly averted his eyes, his hand subconsciously reaching over to his chest, "Oh Merlin," he exhaled quietly, not being able to look back at you. 
He then slowly gathered the courage to look back at you, you were just looking at him patiently, the smile still on your face, Mattheo cleared his throat before opening up, "I have never been the one to be graceful but I want to this properly." he inhaled sharply before continuing, "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, I think I've gone mad honestly," He lets out a dry chuckle shaking his head, looking into your eyes, "I think I've taken a liking to you, your voice, your smile-" and then he interrupts himself, forgetting the little speech he prepared as he watches your smile widen at his words, "yeah that, more of that please," and that makes you blush, the genuine interest in his eyes, the way admiration shines in his eyes, you are so close to him, that you can hear his heart thumping loudly, "I'd like to have the honour of taking you to the ball," then he says your name quietly, "would you like be my date?" 
"Yes yes!" you couldn't be more excited, you are quick to throw your arms around him, and all the worries leave his body as soon as he is subjected to your embrace, he closes his eyes, pulling you closer, finding everything comfortable in your grip. His heartstrings thrum at the moment, it was embarrassing how quickly you got him flustered but he didn't seem to mind it. He whispered a small "thank you," before hugging you tighter, you just giggled into his chest and Merlin, did he feel like he had just won the lottery.
...
<<prev work: this love || mattheo riddle
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btsgotjams27 · 13 days
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things you didn't say | jjk
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summary: with the recent interactions with jungkook, you try to downplay your feelings, but your friends encourage you to acknowledge your past and move forward.
✨ title: things you didn't say | tydk couple ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex-best friends to friends/lovers(?) ✨ rating: R/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.3k | ✨ playlist ✨ warnings: minor language, lana threatens oc with a fork, drinking, game of truth or dare, confessions, kissing ✨ a/n: hii--i'm sorry i've been a bit MIA in regards to writing. it's been such a struggle to get anything written. i've been thinking a lot about these two and i hope this last part gives us all some kind of resolution. enjoy. (and there's a small nod to something that'll happen in a different jk wip i'm working on hehe). and if you haven't read part one or two, please do so before reading this part.
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✨ read part one | read part two ✨
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The clock is nearly midnight, and you’re not ready for the magic to disappear.
All night, you’ve kept your heart at bay, questioning every move and word being spoken. Only you can see it, but a dark cloud is looming over you. Doubts linger like a predator waiting to pounce and take its prey. You want to avoid getting it wrong or being let down.
And your heart is the ultimate betrayer, but it doesn’t lie.
You’re caught up in sentimental memories from the past. His nose scrunches and boisterous cackles are reminiscent of the boy you remember. Hanging out and reliving past adventures felt like no time had passed, yet life updates from then to now made him feel like a stranger.
Giggles and claps, along with snorts and dribbles of wine, glide down the side of your mouth. The third wine bottle is on its way to being destroyed by the pair of you.
He’s careful to avoid the subject of Josie, for which you are grateful. If you could be honest, you would ask him why he was still with her and what he saw in her. But it’s not your place, nor are you in the position to pry.
Your eyes fall on the plants sitting on the corner shelf in the dining area—an array of pothos, snake, and rubber plants. They’re your typical plants, but it’s the planters that they’re sitting in that make you smile. The planters have stubby arms and legs with smiley faces.
Jungkook follows your gaze. “What are we looking at?”
You point to the planters. “Those little guys. They’re cute.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook says. “I made them.”
“The planters or the plants?”
He swirls his wine glass, letting out a small laugh. “The planters.”
“You made those planters?” You stand, walking over to them. 
“When I get bored, I try new creative outlets and ceramics was one of them,” he says, taking a sip of wine.
“Wow, you have a knack for things like that, huh?” You pick up a planter, inspecting it before setting it down. “You could open up your own Etsy shop or something. People would buy these in a heartbeat.”
“Eh, I suppose. I just like doing things with my hands. It makes me feel useful.” Jungkook shrugs. He watches your every move as you continue eyeing the different ceramic pieces he’s made: vases, candleholders, etc. “Do you think people would buy the things I make?”
You lift a coiled vase, turning to him. “Are you kidding me? People would eat this shit up. Once your pieces sell like hotcakes on Etsy, Urban Outfitters will slide in your DMs.” You’re not surprised Jungkook easily excelled at something like ceramics. He’s always been talented at anything he picks up.
“And you were good at anything creative when we were in school—art class, wood shop. I would’ve failed wood shop if you didn’t help me finish my project.”
“Yeah, your birdhouse was fucking terrible.”
You scoff, walking toward him, playfully shoving his shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad.”
He deadpans. “Even birds would avoid your birdhouse.”
“Shut up! I tried my hardest.”
“Didn’t try hard enough,” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin on his face.
The pair of you continue to bicker about nothing, but the constant buzzes of notifications from his phone are hard to ignore. You’d catch Jungkook peering, tapping his fingers, debating if he should reply.
You sip from the bottle of dessert wine, you find it sweet and refreshing on your lips. “If you need to get that, then don’t let me stop you.” 
Jungkook lifts his phone. “Nah—it’s nothing,” he protests before his phone vibrates in his hand. He glances at the illuminated screen and he finally picks it up. “Sorry, let me answer this. I’ll be right back.”
He hurries out of the kitchen and into the darkened living room. You can only hear Jungkook’s stern, hushed voice, but you can’t make anything out. His change in demeanor hints at one person, and it’s Josie. Which meant it was your cue to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.
You raise your wine glass, gulping the golden honey peach Moscato. Thank goodness they’re easy to guzzle. A drop runs down the side of your mouth, and you swipe it away as Jungkook walks back in.
“I’m so sorry about that.”
“Hmm? Oh—don’t worry about it. I, um, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, so I should get going.”
“What? No, stay. We have to finish our Moscato.”
A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you contemplate his proposition. There’s a tug in your heart, wanting to stay into the early hours of the morning, but there’s your brain telling you to take it slow and go home.
“I wish I could stay, but I should head home. I have a load of laundry to fold and sadly, it won’t fold itself.” You stand up from the bar chair, feeling a bit wobbly on your feet. Jungkook rushes to your side, gripping your waist, but you catch yourself by holding onto the counter.
“You can’t hold your liquor?” He asks with a wide grin, pulling you upright.
Clearing your throat and flattening down your jeans, you spit out, “Ha-ha. I can hold my liquor just fine. I merely tripped.”
Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a terrible liar—see, I still remember that.”
You gasp sharply, with a hand over your chest. “I’m surprised that big ‘ol head of yours can remember anything. I thought it was only filled with games and girls.” Sticking out your tongue, you conk him on the head with your knuckles.
“Ow.” He rubs the spot as if you had knocked him with a bat.
Taking out your phone from your pocket, you pull up Uber.
“Let me take you home, at least.”
You give him a look, slowly blinking your eyes at the devilishly handsome friend. Could you even call him a friend again? Maybe it was too early for that.
“Did you forget that we both had too much to drink tonight? So, you shouldn’t be driving me. It’s fine, Kook. I’ll get an Uber.”
Jungkook sighs, knowing he can’t convince you otherwise. “Fine. I’ll wait with you outside until it gets here.”
“Well, it’s not like I can stop you.”
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The pair of you are sitting on his front steps, watching cars drive by and cats strolling through the neighborhood. His place is in a newer part of town, one that was built while you were away. It’s familiar and odd, just like you and Jungkook. As much as you want to forget the past and move on, there’s a part of you holding onto what the two of you had. Would you ever become best friends again? Would you even consider letting him be a part of your life? Those were questions for another time, but it felt like you had your best friend back, even if it was just for tonight.
As the alcohol in your system dwindles, the brain fog becomes clearer, along with your hearing. A nudge from Jungkook makes you come back to reality. “Hmm?”
“I asked, ‘Do you still go stargazing’?” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I do, but the spot I went to during college isn’t as good as the one we used to go to.”
Jungkook hums, avoiding your gaze as he picks up a small pebble from the ground. “We should go there sometime,” he mumbles under his breath. He continues toying with the pebble before throwing it into the bushes.
You’re trying to suppress a smile and swat away the butterflies growing in your stomach. It’s dumb to think things could go back to the way they were. It’s unrealistic and you don’t want to get hurt again.
Turning toward him, you want to set the record straight. “Let’s um, take this whole friendship thing slow, Kook. Dinner was great. It was nice talking to you again, but you do understand where I’m coming from, right?”
He nibbles on his bottom lip and nods. “I’ll follow your lead.”
You check your phone again. The Uber is two minutes away. As you click it off, you turn and see Jungkook staring. Something is brewing behind those starry eyes. With a raised brow, you ask, “What?”
“Can I call or text you sometime?”
“Just don’t, uh, go texting me all day and night. Your girlfriend might get jealous. Might even put a bounty on my head,” you tease, reaching to pull his black CK cap over his face.
He takes his cap off, carding his hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. As you’re immersed in your phone and looking up at the street for your Uber, Jungkook silently observes you like has for the past few years. Some might say it’s a red flag, but how else was he supposed to know if you were happy? That’s all he’s ever wanted—for you to be happy, loved, and have all your dreams come true, even though he wasn’t there to cheer you on. For seven years, he has been tormented by what he did, and he didn't want to jeopardize any possibility of any kind of relationship with you. It doesn’t even have to be like before, just as long as the two of you are on speaking terms. He could live with that.
A dark sedan pulls up alongside the pair of you. You grab the door handle, pause for a moment, then turn back to Jungkook. “We’ll talk soon?” He raises both eyebrows and hums softly, giving a thin smile. “Bye, Kook.”
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Two weeks passed, and there was no text or call from Jungkook. Plenty of thoughts ran through your mind, the number one being Josie had found out about your little dinner and locked him in a basement, cutting off all contact with the outside world—especially if it was with you.
But you’re a big girl. Why should you be waiting around to hear from him, anyway?
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If there’s one thing you hate about adulting, it’s cooking. You missed the days when you were in your angsty teen phase, headphones in, and hating the world, then your parents would yell ‘Dinner’s ready’. And as much as you missed home-cooked meals, you loved that your parents were off gallivanting around the world, living their retirement dreams. One day that’ll be you, living off your retirement and eating out 24/7, but for now, there’s a decision to be made about what will go in your salad for the week.
Cucumbers.
Strolling in the veggie section, your eyes scan for the green vegetables before landing on them. You stood debating on which one to get. Why are there so many varieties? But according to Google, Persian cucumbers go great in salads.
As you grabbed a second cucumber, you looked up to see the man who betrayed your trust. And no—it wasn’t Jungkook. It was his roommate, Jimin, aka ‘the trickster’.
With a stomp in your step and a cucumber in your hand, you march over to him, striking him on the shoulder with it.
“Ow!” Jimin exclaims, rubbing his shoulder as he turns around. His brows furrowed, lips in a full pout when he finds you standing behind him. “What the hell?” He looks to see the weapon in your hand. “Did you just hit me with a cucumber?” You hum. “Why’d you do that?”
Tossing the cucumber in your basket and crossing your arms, you huff out, “Because you deserved it!”
“Deserve what?”
You roll your eyes at the not-so-innocent man. Was he trying to play Cupid or something with you and Jungkook?…Because his stupid plan kind of worked. You truly had a great time at dinner, and it was nostalgic, just like how things used to be.
“Mmhm. Count your days, Park,” you quip, turning around to head in the other direction. Jimin’s calling after you to wait for him, but you keep on walking.
As he catches up, standing beside you, he nudges your arm. “Oh, come on. I was just trying to help a friend out,” he finally admits.
“Well, don’t.”
Jimin strides in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey—” You attempt to go around him, but he’s unrelenting. “Just hear me out, okay?” You sigh, waving for him to continue. “I’m sorry I ambushed you, but it was the only way you’d hang out with Jungkook. I know the two of you had shit go down in the past, and I just wanted to help you both move on to being friends again.”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“Because,” he pauses and straightens his back with his chin up. “I like you and I like Jungkook, and who wouldn’t want to see their friends be happy, hmm?”
Jungkook’s laughter echoed in your mind. You knew it was dumb to miss something as simple as a laugh, but you had heard it for so many years, and then it stopped for a long time. It felt nice to have a piece of an old friend back.
Jimin gives you a look and a grin sweeps across his face. There’s a satisfaction behind that grin and you wish you could wipe off.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Park Jimin,” you say, stepping off to the side as a customer rolls by with their cart through the two of you.
He laughs, showing off his pearly whites. “I should check out and head off—don’t want you to start getting any ideas and start a food fight here in the grocery store.”
“Yeah, you should run.” You pretend to grab the cucumber and watch him run off to self-checkout.
A buzz from your back pocket alerts you of a notification and, to your surprise, it’s a text from Jungkook. It looks like he hadn’t forgotten about you.
Jungkook 1:34 PM Hey. I’m throwing a small dinner for Jimin’s birthday on Friday at 7 pm. Say you’ll come.
You 1:35 PM Define small.
Incoming Call Jungkook
“If I come and it’s a big party like last time, then count me out.”
“Hello to you, too.”
“Right—hey. No, but seriously. I’m not a big crowd kinda gal.”
“Including me and you, there would only be six people. That’s not a lot, right?”
It’s not, but you’ll have to save your social battery for the dinner party.
“No, yeah, that’s fine.”
“And don’t worry, you know everyone—Lana’s going too.”
The big question is: will Josie be there?
A beat passes and you realize you’re standing in the middle of an aisle, probably blocking someone’s way.
Jungkook’s voice comes through your phone, calling your name a few times. “Hello? Hey. Are you still there?”
You turn to make sure no one’s around. “Yeah, sorry. I’m still here. Is, um, ‘who-shall-not-be-named’ coming?” You ask, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. It’s a name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.
He chuckles at your subtle attempt to avoid the Josie topic. “I can promise you that she’s not coming. Is that why you’re hesitant to say yes?”
“Pfft–what! No!” you blurt out, lying through your teeth. Truth be told—yeah, it is. You don’t want a repeat of Jimin’s party.
You clear your throat, “Anyway, yeah, I’ll come. Count me in.”
“Cool! See you on Friday.”
“Can I bring anything?”
“Nope–just yourself. Oh, and it’s a surprise, so don’t say anything to Jimin.”
“‘Kay…sounds good. I’ll see you Friday.”
“Can’t wait to see you,” he said with enthusiasm before hanging up.
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As you’re mixing the salad, you’re staring absent-mindedly at the abstract painting that’s framed on your wall because those five words rang in your ears on the drive home.
You mumbled those words in different tones, trying to make sense of the innocent expression. It’s completely normal for Jungkook to be excited. He hasn’t seen/hung out/talked to you in almost seven years. Yeah, that’s it—at least it’s what you’re telling yourself.
Lana waves her hand in your face. “Um, hello! I don’t think you can mix the salad anymore!”
Looking down, a few springs of leaves have been tossed out of the bowl and onto the counter. Oops. You pick them up, throwing them in the garbage bin. “Sorry—I was distracted.”
“Clearly.”
As you push the bowl aside, your focus is on the unopened bottle of wine.
“Are you going to tell me what’s distracting you, or should I wait until the wine settles in?”
“You can wait until the wine settles in. It’ll give me time to forget about it.”
Lana picks up a fork, threatening you with it. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me—”
“Okay, okay. The other day, Jungkook called to invite me to Jimin’s dinner party.” Lana narrows her eyes and hums, intently listening. “At the end of our conversation, he said, ‘Can’t wait to see you’, and he seemed excited.”
She nods her head, waiting for the rest of the story, but you don’t say anything else. “That’s it? God–that’s so boring. I thought you guys kissed or something.”
“Lana!” you cry out, almost knocking over the wine bottle.
“What? I thought he would’ve made his move by now.”
You roll your eyes. “There’s no move to make. He’s with Josie, remember?”
“Josie Schmosie—she’s old news, but you,” she points and grins, “You’re back and here to fuck things up,” she claps with a gleeful smile.
“Oh, will you stop it? I’m not back to do anything—and what the hell, Lana? You’re not helping!”
Lana chortles, covering her mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sure what Jungkook said to you is just a simple expression of how much he can’t wait to see you and get you underneath his sheets.”
You sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know why I bothered you with this.”
“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise—just kidding. Can I ask one more thing?” You wave your hand for her to continue. “You’re telling me you don’t even want to revel in the idea of the two of you being something more than just friends?”
The iciness of the tiled counter becomes apparent underneath your fingers, and you’re faced with a question you never wanted to answer—aloud, at least. Considering that he’s tried breaking up with Josie multiple times, but somehow is still with her, you’re unsure what will push Jungkook to cut off the head of the snake.
You hate that Jeon Jungkook has been—scratch that—is your Roman empire. He’s the one thing you’ve come back to even when you didn’t want to. It’s the same three questions you’ve had: Is he okay, is he happy, does he miss you too?
And if you’re completely honest, the answer is yes. Of course, you’ve reveled in the idea of you and him.
“I don’t know, Lana. I mean yes—the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve liked him since senior year, but it takes two to tango, and Jungkook can’t do that right now. Besides, I won’t wait around for him to come to his senses.”
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, that’s the expression, isn’t it?
You can’t imagine going through another heartbreak from the same boy.
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Things happen in life that don’t make sense.
Especially for the price of a pair of earrings, you’re currently looking to purchase as Jimin’s birthday present. The sales associate senses your hesitation and brings out a similar pair that’s on sale.
“Ah—that’s more like it. I’ll take those and do you still provide gift wrapping?” you ask, looking at the sign you saw on the way in.
“Yes, we do. Let me go into the back and wrap it up for you.”
The associate disappears through the back door, probably to talk shit about you to their co-workers, but hey–a girl has to save money where she can. It’s a fragile economy.
You roam, looking through the display cases of bracelets, rings, and watches. A gold Casio watch catches your eye–it looks like one Jungkook used to wear. He treasured the vintage-looking watch because it was his father’s. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him with it when you saw him. Maybe he lost it or replaced it with something else.
Either way, you continue eyeing pieces of jewelry you’ll never purchase for yourself, and it’s when you look up to catch a glimpse of a girl you recognize. But it’s the man marking her neck that isn’t your ex-best friend. You’ve locked eyes with which she-who-must-not-be-named, and maybe it’s not too late to pretend you didn’t see her.
The sales associate returns the wrapped gift along with your credit card. You quickly thank her, looping your arm through the gift bag. Your eyes scan everything in view to see if the coast is clear. There’s no sign of your enemy, so you dart out of the store only to find Josie and this mystery man looking at the window display at the neighboring boutique.
Fuck, just go on your way and don’t engage. Don’t engage! You say to yourself, swiftly walking past them.
You’re busy berating yourself to hear someone calling your name. Stopping in your tracks, you sigh, waiting for Josie to catch up.
“Hey!” Josie chirps like the two of you are friendly.
“Hi…” you say glumly, with furrowed eyebrows. She’s never been nice to you before, so why should you start now?
“Can you not tell Jungkook what you saw?”
You tut, blinking your eyes at her like you owe her a favor. “Look Josie—what you do doesn’t concern me, okay?” you say, walking past her. It’s been a few weeks since you last saw her and she’s cheating on Jungkook with some guy? God, if only you could smack him upside the head right now—Josie too!
You’re a few steps ahead before you stop in your tracks and turn, walking back to her. You huff, “Tell me one thing. If you’re off with some guy behind Jungkook’s back. Why are you still stringing him along, then?”
Josie looks at you, ready to answer, but you raise your hand, stopping her. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”
As you walk off again, there’s a revolting feeling in the pit of your stomach having to keep this to yourself. Jungkook deserves to know the kind of person Josie is, but it’s not your place to say anything. You’re not his best friend anymore. Honestly, you’re unsure what the two of you are and sometimes, there are some things you just shouldn’t say.
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Whenever you think about seeing Josie and that mystery man, it makes you want to gag, and throw something at the wall, but mainly at her. Who knows how long she’s been cheating on Jungkook? You tossed and turned in bed, debating whether you should say something to him.
The dinner party is tonight, and if you happen to be alone with him and the Josie topic comes about, then you’ll mention it.
Another thought crosses your mind, what if he thinks you’re making this up because you’re jealous of Josie? Ah, fuck. Either way, you’ll turn out to be the bad guy, right? You’ll either break his heart or you’ll sound like a jealous person.
You don’t want to ruin whatever the two of you have, because you’ve missed the comfort of an old friend and you don’t want to lose it again.
Even though you know the code, you don’t press the four digits. Instead, you knock, waiting for someone to open the door.
“Hey!” Jungkook says, eyes dropping to your hands. “I said you didn’t have to bring anything.” He takes a step back, letting you through, and grabbing the box of Soju.
“I know, but Lana always says, ‘Don’t go anywhere empty-handed’,” you say, flashing a small smile.
“Ah, well, the Soju will go great with tonight’s menu.”
The aroma from Jungkook’s cooking is immaculate. You can almost taste the different dishes he’s prepared.
“Oh my god, it smells so good–like how your mom used to make food for us all the time.” You walk over to the dinner table, displayed with grilled meat, japchae, tteokbokki, buddaejjigae, and a plethora of banchan. “How is your mom? I miss her and her cooking.”
Jungkook chuckles softly. “She’s doing great. Her cooking, though? Not so much. It’s become too salty for my taste—Don’t tell her I told you that.”
You rub your hands together. “Oh, you bet that’s the first thing I’ll say after giving her a hug.”
“Don’t! She’ll disown me. She already hates that I’m a better cook than her,” Jungkook says, opening the box of Soju.
“You should become a private chef or something.”
He opens the refrigerator door, placing the Soju to chill. “Nah—I’ll just cook at home. I’m still learning, testing the waters, y’know?”
“I hate you.”
His eyes perk up with concern. “What did I do this time?”
“You’re good at everything you do—it’s unfair to the rest of us peasants.”
Jungkook relaxes at your answer, thinking he did something wrong again.
Placing the last Soju bottle in the fridge, he turns back, scanning you from head to toe. You’re dressed in an oversized Linkin Park band tee and jeans. He recognizes the shirt, the one you wore religiously during your emo teenage years.
“What? Is there something on my face?” you ask, touching your cheeks.
He shakes his head no and clears his throat. “I, um, wanted to talk to you...about something.”
“Oh?” Your eyes and ears perk up, but you’re interrupted by a commotion coming from the front door.
“The birthday boy is coming! Hide!” Lana says in a hushed tone. She rushes over to you, crouching down behind the counter, pulling you down with her. You chuckle, shaking your head.
With the front door open, Jungkook’s other roommate, Namjoon, walks in first–hand in hand with his girlfriend, and then following is the birthday boy.
Lana peers above the chairs to see if they’ve come in. “Surprise!” She cries out. Everyone’s ears must be ringing at this point.
Jimin gives a half-smile along with a chuckle. “Lana, you ran past us in the driveway.”
Her mouth turns into a cheesy smile. “You caught me. Sorry, I kind of ruined the surprise.”
“Happy birthday Jimin,” you say, walking over to him, arms out for a hug.
“I’m glad to see you and Kook have made up,” Jimin utters. “He needs someone like you around.” He pulls back, squeezing your arms before letting you go.
Namjoon and his girlfriend, Nora, greet you and Jungkook and then take a seat at the dinner table.
You look at Jungkook. “We’ll talk later?”
He hums in agreement. “Yeah, later.”
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You’ve missed this—hanging out with old friends. It’s fun to be around people who you’ve known for a long time. You remember Namjoon being a senior when you were a freshman and the stories you’d hear about him—prom king, valedictorian; he did it all when he was in school. And Nora was the perfect woman for him. They’re both working toward their doctorate in philosophy. Their IQs were the equivalent of yours, Lana, Jimin, and Jungkook’s combined.
“Wow, I feel unqualified to be sitting at this table,” you say jokingly. Being an HR specialist was never the plan, but you’ve come to enjoy your job because you like to think you’re a good judge of character when it comes to hiring.
“Let’s stop talking about work, and have some fun! After all, it is Jimin’s birthday. How about a game of Truth or Dare?” Nora asks, looking around the dining table to get some confirmation. “I need verbal consent, please.”
Everyone glances at each other, awaiting answers. There are various responses, and everyone agrees to play.
Nora claps with a joyful squeal. “Okay, Jimin gets to ask first since it’s his birthday. Choose your victim, and anything’s fair game!”
There’s a groan from you and Jungkook. You have a feeling this night will become interesting.
Jimin rubs his hands together and then points to each person. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” He continues the rhyme, and you know he’s itching to choose you or Jungkook, and his finger lands on Jungkook.
“Oh-ho-ho. Please pick dare, or I’ll make you answer something you don’t want to,” he says, playfully sticking out his tongue.
Jungkook narrows his eyes at his devilish roommate. “Don’t test me, Park. I can make your life a living hell, too.”
“Ah yes, I’d like to see you try.”
Your heart’s racing, and your hands are sweaty while gripping the chair’s armrest. Jimin has always been sneaky, and you’re sure he’ll make Jungkook kiss you.
Everyone’s waiting for Jungkook’s answer. He groans before replying, “Fine. Dare.”
Both Lana and Nora let out muffled squeals while you’re holding your breath.
“I dare you…to say something dirty to ____.” Jimin grins from ear to ear, staring at you.
You knew Jimin would be unrelenting when it came to you and Jungkook.
Turning to Jungkook, you say, “If you’re uncomfortable, don’t do it. It’s just a dumb game.”
“Hey! Nora said anything’s fair game and my dare is completely harmless. I could’ve asked you to do something else, but I didn’t,” Jimin refutes.
“It’s fine,” Jungkook says with a scowl. Turning to you, he leans over. His breath is warm against your ear, goosebumps are trickling on your skin, and your hair is standing on its end. He whispers, “You look so pretty—wish I could do this forever.”
“Hey, hey, hey! You’re supposed to say it aloud for everyone to hear,” Jimin protests.
You visibly gulp, returning to a straightened position in your chair. The ten words he said shouldn’t affect you, but it does. The room has grown warmer and you’re practically melting like butter in a hot pan. It’s just a silly game and you’re so over Jimin and his antics.
“Your dare was ‘to say something dirty to ___’. You didn’t specify if it was a whisper or if I had to shout it from the rooftop,” Jungkook chirps, quickly glancing in your direction to make sure you’re okay.
Jimin glares at Jungkook with a blaze of a thousand suns. “It’s implied that you say it out loud so everyone can hear.”
Lana elbows Jungkook. “What did you say? How dirty was it? Like, give us a rating, PG-13, R, NC-17?” He doesn’t answer her, but she looks at you, pointing her fingers to her eyes and then back to you, indicating that you’ll tell her later.
“I’ll let it go this time, but from now on, no whispering, and everyone has to hear what everyone says,” Jimin demands, awaiting confirmation from the group. “Okay, Jungkook, it’s your turn.”
He turns to Lana and bluntly asks, “Would you ever sleep with Jimin?” Jungkook peers at Jimin because he knows that Jimin’s had a crush on Lana since high school.
Lana’s mouth twists before answering, “Yeah, I guess.”
Jimin scoffs, offended by her response. “You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!”
“And I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!” he chirps back.
“Please—I’ll be the best sex you’ll ever have,” she jeers, crossing her arms.
Jimin stands. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He retorts, raising his chin in defense.
Everyone ‘oohs’, staring at the two like they’re in a stand-off.
“Prove it! Prove it!” Nora urges, pounding her fists on the table.
Namjoon fakes a laugh, muffling his girlfriend’s pounding. “I’m sorry. She’s had too much to drink. Don’t listen to her.”
Jimin leans forward, hands on the table. “Yeah…prove it.” He raises an eyebrow, wondering if Lana will back down or take on the challenge.
“Right now?” She tilts her head, scanning him from head to toe.
He shrugs. “Mm, what a shame. I guess you’ll never be able to prove it,” he says with a tut.
The chair legs squeak when Lana pushes herself to stand. “When’s the last time you got tested?”
“A month ago,” Jimin quickly replies like no one else is in the room. “I’m clean. You?”
“I’m clean too. You got condoms?”
You sink in your chair, wiping your face, watching these two go off on each other. Honestly, you can’t believe you’re witnessing this.
“Got a whole box ready for you.”
Lana marches over to Jimin, grabbing his hand. “Well, come on birthday boy.”
Your mouth drops, watching the two-run upstairs. “They’re not gonna fuck, are they?” Lana has been in a dry spell for the last year, so you don’t blame her for wanting to get laid.
“Yeah, I think they are,” Jungkook answers. “Yah—” he turns to yell toward Jimin’s room. “Keep it down, will ya?”
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The rest of you continue the game, but they’re just questions to get to know each other.
“Jungkook, if there’s one thing you could take back. What would it be?”
He looks in your direction, then plays with his Soju glass, spinning it a few times. You’re biting the inside of your cheek, eyes bouncing from him and then to Nora and Namjoon.
“Um, I’d go back to the day I broke ___’s heart—take everything back.”
The couple looks at each other, forcing a fake laugh. “Well, I can sense the tension between our friends here,” Nora says. “Joonie, baby, didn’t you wanna show me that thing in your room?”
Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow. “What thing?”
Nora stands, tugging his hand, and drags him down the hallway to his room. You can hear the two bickering before the door closes.
You’re silent. Unsure of what to say. You want to move forward, but the past keeps haunting you. Will it always be like this with you and Jungkook? And certainly, there are things you didn’t say that you should say now, but what’s the point?
“We should clean up,” you say, picking up a few plates to stack them. Jungkook follows your lead, helps clear the table, and walks over to set them in the sink.
Turning on the faucet, you rinse off the plates. Jungkook leans back against the kitchen island, eyes scanning over you.
“I meant what I said earlier.”
You close your eyes, then breathe out a sigh. Looking at the boy who used to be your best friend. His eyes hold the galaxy and you get easily lost in them. You’re an explorer longing to find the next big discovery. It’s right in front of you, but at a moment’s notice, you might lose him like you did before.
“Kook…we were kids back then, and you can’t change the past.” You continue to wash the dishes, but it’s hard to focus when he’s near.
Jungkook reaches to turn off the water, gently squeezing your arm to look at him. “Yeah, I know, but I can try to fix it now, right?”
Your hands grip onto the sink, your eyes focused on the water dripping from the spout. You fixate on Jungkook’s words. How can he reconcile a friendship he tore apart? And for what? A girl?
He calls your name, breaking your focus. “Talk to me.”
There’s a tightness in your chest as you turn to him. “Fix it? I don’t want you to fix it.”
“O-kay…then tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
If it was only that easy.
You close the distance between you, looking at him. “What do I want?” He hums. “I want you to be broken. Wrecked—just like how I was. It took me years to get over you—our friendship. I hate it, Jungkook.”
“I hate what I did to you—”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, Kook.” Your heart is aching—like someone reached in, squeezing it as hard as they can. 
“Then explain.”
Your eyes meet his. “You. Own. Me,” you say, your index finger pressing into his chest with each word. “These last few weeks have been excruciating. I don’t know who I am when I’m around you. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’ve moved on. You’ll always be the one thing that I’ll never be over.”
Your heart is pounding, and every inch of your body is burning to the touch. You didn’t think anyone could ever make you this livid. But as much as you want to hate him, moving back home simply confirms everything you’ve been attempting to hide for the past seven years—you love him.
“I was hurt, too. You don’t think I was?” Jungkook says softly, lifting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I was devastated, knowing how much I hurt you. I couldn’t eat or sleep for days. Seeing and talking to you every day and then it just stopped. My world was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I watched you go off to live your life while I was stuck here with you, haunting me everywhere I went. Philz, the damn grocery store, the park–you were there. There was no escaping you. So yeah, I was wrecked and broken, just like you.”
The narrative you created in your head of Jungkook and Josie was something out of a fairytale. Boy meets girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after. But according to Jungkook, it was hardly the case. You haunted him as much as he haunted you throughout the years.
Chuckling to yourself, you think about how this could've been avoided if one of you had just spoken up. Stepping back from him, you take a breath to calm your nerves. You lean back against the sink, arms folded. “Can I ask you something?”
Jungkook’s eyes flick to you and his body mirrors yours. “I’m an open book, ___.”
“Why did you give up so easily? Why didn’t you fight for me? Our friendship?”
A beat passes, and he doesn’t respond. It’s foolish to think he’d have an answer for you.
Your lips thin, and you breathe out a sigh of frustration. “It’s fine, Kook. Don’t answer. We’ll just go back to the way things were. Have a good life.” You walk off toward the living room and he follows.
“You don’t get to walk away,” he says, shutting the front door when you try to open it.
“Yeah? Watch me!” You turn back to the door, attempting to open it, but Jungkook’s hand is holding it shut.
He grips your arm. “I was scared, okay? I was young and stupid, and scared.”
You turn around and push him back. “Scared? You’re still scared! That’s why you can’t even break up with Josie! She’s cheating on you, by the way! I saw her with some guy glued to her neck. I don’t understand why you can’t just let her go.”
“I’m not scared of breaking up with Josie. I just got comfortable with her being around and didn’t think I could do any better.” Jungkook steps back and reclines on the couch’s armrest.
“You don’t think you can do better than Josie? You’re Jeon Jungkook, of course, you can.”
He forces a laugh, shaking his head no. “I barely graduated high school, practically failed my college classes. I don’t have a steady job and I have no idea what I’m passionate about. So yeah, I didn’t think I could do any better than Josie, until…”
“Until…?”
“Until I saw you at the party. I know it sounds cheesy, but when I saw you standing in the living room. It was like a sign from the universe, waking me up from this auto-pilot life I was living in. Seeing you again really shook me up.”
You could say the same thing about seeing Jungkook again. The universe loved to toy with the two of you, didn’t it?
“And then after our dinner two weeks ago, I broke up with Josie–like officially. I gave all her stuff back. I’m not answering calls or anything. So, I guess when you saw her, she must’ve moved on to the next guy–that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, me breaking up with her.”
There was a sense of relief when he said that because you were ready to fight Josie.
“Oh,” you say softly, taking a step toward him. “I guess I was wrong about you—being scared, I mean.”
Jungkook’s toying with his necklace, circling it around his neck. “I’m still scared.” He steps toward you, waiting for you to look at him. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” he says.
“How are you going to mess this up? We’re just friends.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be ‘just friends’.”
Your gaze flicks to him and then drops to his lips and back up again. You know what he’s alluding to, but you need to hear those words leave his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He knows you’re teasing him. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
“Yes.”
“Because I love you, okay? I’m in love with you. Have always been in love with you, and I’m scared to lose you again.”
Your eyes are glossy, fighting back tears. You’ve longed to hear those words from Jungkook, and like him, you’re afraid of an unknown future, but right now, all that matters is him.
As a tear falls down your cheek, you’re ready to let love in. Let him in. Discover new things. Rediscover old things. You’re ready to be vulnerable, move forward from the past, and let go of the heartache and pain.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe.
Jungkook steps toward you, cupping your face. “No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
You shake your head. “No, I do. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you–for our friendship. It’s my fault too.”
His thumbs caress your cheeks. “Hey, can we agree to let the past be in the past and just focus on us now, in the present?”
Your hands cover his, and you nod, flashing a soft smile. “Mhm. I’d like that.”
Jungkook wipes your tear-stained cheeks. “Now, can I do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time?”
“What’s that?”
His lips finally touch yours. It’s not fervent or haste. It’s soft, uncertain. But you kiss him back. You’re savoring each point of contact. His lips overlapping yours, capturing a hint of your cherry Chapstick. Your eyes are half-lidded and you pull back for air, but he leans in, bringing you back in for more. His nose bumps into yours as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. Your body presses against his, your fists balled up, tugging on his white t-shirt. There’s a glow of excitement and nervousness rushing throughout your body when one of his hands grips your waist and the other is on the small of your back, pushing you further into him.
A low whine leaves his lips when you withdraw. He reaches for another kiss, but you stop him.
“Kook—” you whisper as his forehead touches yours.
“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he says, kissing your cheek and tracing your jawline. “Don’t think I can ever stop.”
You chuckle. “I don’t want to stop kissing you, either. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”
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While lying in bed next to Jungkook, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. Your fingers trace stars across his chest and you love how he breathes–his chest rising and falling ever so softly. The sound of his voice vibrates through your fingers and into your body. With one arm wrapped around you and the other resting behind his head, Jungkook tells you about the dreams he had but never dared to pursue–you being one of them.
And as the clock strikes midnight, the magic of you and him didn’t dissipate. It’s here. It’s real.
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ashenberry · 2 months
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assorted MS paint doodles from Turnabout Serenade
[ID: Several MS paint drawings featuring the cast of apollo justice: ace attorney
Image 1: Trucy and Apollo Behind the bench Trucy: Hey apollo have you ever played metal gear solid for the play station one or metal gear 2 | sons of liberty for the playstation 2 or metal gear solid 3 | snake eater for playstation 3 or met Apollo: (Scribbled out text that says trucy someone is dead) Trucy metal gear solid 3 was on the playstation 2
Image 2: Apollo behind the bench going, "damn, hes normal" klavier is across the room behind his bench with a note that says not normal
Image 3: Trucy and Apollo behind the bench, with trucy looking as if she figured something out Trucy: I call it dice earth theory Apollo: Trucy the earth isnt round enough
Image 4: Trucy looking at apollo with a raised eyebrow, and apollo with his hand on his cheek Apollo: I mean its a pretty mid song. pretty forgettable all things considered so of course i forgot about the lyric connection Trucy: apollo isnt it your ringtone
Image 5: A screenshot of ema ingame above a doodled apollo and trucy with Luminol fluid. Ema says, "play my minigame boy"
Image 6: A baliff and Daryan standing next to eachother while someone points at daryan yelling, "BALIFF WACK HIS PEEPEE" daryan's hair is censored out
Image 7: The judge talking to Klavier while he's on his phone The Judge: mr gavin please exp- Klavier: one second your honor im pogging in chat
Image 8: Apollo flipping someone off saying, "sorry prosecutor gavin i believe women
Image 9: Phoenix as a lamp
Image 10: Trucy and apollo standing next to eachother. Trucy looks upset with a note saying "wants her juicy" apollo looks tired with a note saying, "also wants his juicy"
Image 11: Lamiror talking to Klavier, who has tears in his eyes Lamiror: of course not werent u listening? idoit? loser? dipshit? bitch ass? cringefail? chicken mcnobody?
Image 12: Klavier upsettingly pointing at a stock image of Lamiror saying, "YOUR HONOR I WANT THE WITNESS EXECUTED FOR HURTING MY fEELINGS"
Image 13: an image of the judge thinking it over with an "mmmm" and then saying "👍:thumbs_up:"
Image 14: Klavier telling ema, "we make a pretty good team frau" that is cut off by ema flipping him off
Image 15: Ema smashing klavier with a giant fist
Image 16: Ema shooting a screenshot of klavier with a big gun. there is text in the screenshot that reads, "he was shot,"
Image 17: Trucy telling apollo, "its time to put on the big boy pants apollo!" with apollo in a large pair of pants with only his head peaking out
end ID]
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