#but I’d always take my shoes off so I could feel the vibrations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rogerswifesblog-updates · 1 year

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Right words, wrong place

Series Masterlist

Summary: Steve accidentally calls you mommy in public.

A/N: This takes place after the series! Technically you can read it without having read the series but I’d appreciate if you do <3 I’m also pretty sure you’ll like the series:3 (I hope so at least)

Follow my main account: @rogerswifesblog

Warnings: nipple play, boob worship, sex shop, lingerie, handjob, edging, ruined orgasm, Steve in a bralettes and mentioned panties, mentioned vibrators, mentioned cock cage, mantioned whips, spanking paddle, collars…it’s a sex shop, ok? 🤣

You were happily together for a few months now. Steve made you happy like no other and you were glad to finally have him back in your life. He was like sunshine. Your personal sunshine, always waking you with his warm kisses all over your body.

And he hasn’t changed at all, still being curious and obsessed with your pierced nipples, giving them the most attention. Not that you complained.

After a lazy morning and breakfast in bed you two decided to go out, maybe a little coffee date and shopping after.

Yeah, that sounded good. You’d love to see your big beefy man in something pretty. Maybe he’d be up to visit a sex shop with you? Choose some pretty ropes for himself…or a pretty collar….

You were going way ahead of yourself.

Head shaking you took your jacket, looking back at Steve. “Let’s go, I’m starving for some cake”, you said, putting on your shoes. Then you felt Steve’s hands on your waist, pulling you a bit closer against him. “I have some cake-“ “Steve! Idiot”, you laughed, turning around and swatting his arm. “You have a great cake, but I like a brownie with my coffee”, laughing as you kissed his cheek, before you two left your apartment.

First you two went into a small café, where you finally had your brownie and Steve an apple pie. At this point you two had a few dates behind you, but every new one made you as excited and nervous as the one before that.

“I think we should go to Whiptime this weekend. Bucky said he and Nat want to try something new and we could watch”, Steve said, chewing his cake. You nodded immediately, feeling your chest tingle. The last time you two were in the club was a few weeks ago and you started to miss the excitement while being watched. Especially after the last time. God, Steve was perfect for you. You couldn’t have a better boyfriend than him.

After drinking a sip of your coffee you put away your cup. Maybe you should go to the shop today after all? Buy something for the weekend.

A small smirk crept onto your lips. “And did he tell you what they’re going to try?” The blush coating Steve cheeks told you that, yes, Bucky definitely told him what they’d be doing. Riding your eyebrows you waited for Steve’s answer. “He said something about anal stuff and a fuck machine”, he tried to shrug it off but you saw the blush deepen, a little shimmer in his eyes.

That’s something you two haven’t tried yet. Rimming, yes, but anal? You haven’t even fingered him yet, even though you’d love to do so. Worship his pretty round ass. It was such a shame that you haven’t fucked him yet, but you’d never pressure him to do something he didn’t want. “Sounds fun. We could give them a show with the new nipple clamps that you like so much”, Steve bit his bottom lip and you could see him thinking, before nodding.

After finishing your coffee and sweets you two left the cafe, walking along the streets. Your gaze fell onto one of your favourite kind of shops, a cocky smile creeping on your lips. “Maybe we should buy something for the weekend, babyboy. Mommy would love to treat you with something pretty-show everyone who you belong to. Maybe a collar for you? I’d love to have you on a leash. Making sure nobody tries to steal you away from me”, you whispered teasingly, feeling Steve tense, his breathing getting heavier with every second.

“A-a collar? For me? A real one?”, Stevs soft and innocent voice made you chuckle, but you nodded nevertheless. It was seeet how this big beefy bearded guy became putty in your hands, as soon as you called him babyboy.

Your smile widened, while you took his hand and gave him gentle kisses on the knuckles. “Yeah, a Real pretty collar. You can choose…maybe we could order a customized one….mommy’s toy…how would you like that?”, you massaged his hand gently, Steve’s gaze glued to your lips as you kissed his skin. You could see what he was thinking about. How he started squirming in his seat…

When his eyes met your there was barely any blue, his pupils being fully widened, swallowing his pretty bright colours. He licked his lips, biting down on them. “Please let’s get a collar. And a leash”, he nearly whined, making the corners of your mouth jump up. “Then finish your cake and coffee and we-“, before you could finish your sentence Steve showed half of his cake in his mouth and stood up, waiting for you.

So within a few minutes you two entered an erotic shop, immediately being greeted by a friendly smiling shop assistant. A young man, probably younger than you and maybe even Steve. His gaze fell to your holding hands and then back to Steve. “Hello there, how can I help you both? Maybe something for the pretty girl? We have a new collection of collars and very soft ropes, even in pastel colours-“ but before he could finish his sentence you cleared your throat. “That’s great, we’d like a collar for my prettyBOY and then you can show us the ropes, preferably blue. These always make his eyes pop.”

Both Steve and the cashier blushed a deep red and without saying another word (probably from embarrassment just having assumed your relationship dynamics) he showed you the collars. “Here are the collars. We can customize a font or add more jewels, letters whatever you’d like to change”, he explained, showing the collars.

You hummed, taking a black collar in your hands, feeling the soft leather. “This one is pretty. Simple, but pretty. What do you think, baby?”, you asked. Steve nodded, but you noticed he wasn’t looking at the collar in your hands. Instead his gaze was glued to a babyblue coloured collar with big shiny letters; boy toy. The corners of your mouth twitched and you slowly put the black one aside, taking the blue one. “So this is the one you like?” This time Steve was way more enthusiastic while nodding, a big smile on his lips.

You lifted the collar to his throat, Steve already pushing his head up, wanting for you to put in the collar on him, making you chuckle quietly. “No baby, I’m not putting it on you yet, I want to see if it matches your eyes…mmhh, very pretty. Looks so good. Perfect with your bright eyes. So beautiful”, you whispered, watching Steve pupil dilate. “My pretty boy”, you whispered, while the cashier stood a few meters away, acting like he wasn’t listening.

Steve bit his bottom lip, his gaze glued to your moving lips, while he tried not to think about what you two would do after coming home. Would you use the collar on him today? Would you let him wear it whenever he wanted to, or just in the bedroom? He really hoped he could wear it around the house whenever he felt like to…

He wanted to feel owned. He wanted to be yours. He wanted everyone to know. To see.

A quiet whimper escaped his lips when your attention fell back onto the collars. He immediately blushed, ducking his head. God, he had to get a grip on himself.

Chuckling you grabbed another collar, a scarlet red with jeweled letters mommys slut. Steve swallowed hard when you also took this collar, putting both in the basket. You hold out your hand for Steve to hold, which he immediately did, following you to the ropes. “You can choose some for yourself, baby. Don’t look at the price, mommy wants to treat you”, you whispered the last part in his ear. “I’ll go look at the wips and be back in a minute”, you kissed his cheek, leaving him by the ropes. After a few seconds the cashier stepped to him, explaining and showing him the ropes. You heard the cashier say something about you to him, making Steve blush Even harder than before. This made you curious, maybe you’d ask him later about it.

After finding a nice wip that would be amazing for your collection and a spanking paddle with the words pretty boy written on it, you went back to your boyfriend who had ropes hanging from his arms everywhere and every kind of rope, looking completely overwhelmed. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing quietly, shaking your head in amusement. But there was still fondness in your eyes. “What happened, Steve?” He looked back at you, an apologizing smile on his lips. “They are all so pretty and soft…I don’t know which of these are good”, he shrugged, one of the ropes falling to the floor from the movement.

Chuckling you put the rope back on a shelf, before looking over the ones Steve had currently hanging from his arms. “Maybe the blue ones? And the red one is also pretty. It’ll look good with the collars. You’ll be so pretty, maybe we should buy you some pretty panties too, huh? You’ll be my perfect pretty boy, all dressed up”, Steve’s hands started trembling when he listened to your words, imagining being tied to the headboard, only dressed in a collar and blue lace panties. He felt his brain turn into mush. Overwhelmed with everything around him, all the bdsm and sex equipment, your words and tone making his dick harden in his pants, tenting them slowly. Of course you noticed.

A smirk crept onto his lips, while you looked around if the shop assistant was still watching you two, but he was gone, so you stepped a bit closer, grabbing Steve’s bulge, kneading. “Come on, Stevie baby. You’ll look so good in it. Mommy would love to see you in those panties….I would look at you all day. Eat your pretty peach…”, you whispered, listening to Steve’s heavy breathing. He nodded slowly, looking down at you, even though he had a few inches over you, he felt smaller.

You let go of his twitching cock, looking back at the shelves and putting away the ropes you didn’t want. “Come on, let’s look at some pretty panties for you”, you smirked, taking his hand and walking with him to the aisle with clothing, lingerie and costumes…maybe you could buy a new latex slip? Or a dress? You could also treat yourself, not only your babyboy. After getting the promotion you could really treat the two of you. Who’d thought you’d become a CEO after all that had happened?

Feeling the material of a bralette you looked back at Steve. “Maybe this would suit you too…Come on baby, your pecks would look so cute in a bralette. But that’s not the right color… Maybe a baby blue? Your eyes look so pretty when you wear blue…” with that you took a blue bralette, putting it to his body. Steve was still blushing, but visibly excited. He really wanted to wear it. He could tell you’d like it. “Do you like it?”, you asked, taking another bralette, but Steve shook his head, pointing at another one, a white one this time. “This is pretty…a set with white…panties…”, he mumbled, the blush still painting his beautiful skin. Grinning, you took the panties in his size (you hoped they’d fit) and gave him the bralettes. “You can try them on. I’ll be right there”, you kissed his cheek, before pointing him to the changing room, while you looked at a few clothes for yourself. You knew your sizes perfectly, so you didn’t have to try anything on, just putting them in your cart.

After a few minutes Steve called your name quietly, wanting to hear your opinion about the blue bralette first. His eyes were glued to the mirror and of course his pecks, that he was kneading lightly with his hands, looking at the way the material felt against his skin. A quiet gasp escaped your lips, while you stepped closer to him, right behind him, letting your hands roam over his body, his sides up to his chest. “Wow, so beautiful…you’re so pretty, Steve. Look how good your tit look in it-knew you’d look cute. Such a pretty boy.” Steve’s quiet whine made you chuckle against his arm, while you slowly started kissing his arm, your hands gliding over his pecs and teasing his nipples, pinching them gently. “Fuck babyboy…can’t wait to get home…have you laid out on the bed…I’d love to play with your tits for forever…kissing your body, tasting your nipples…kiss down….down to your pretty cock…kiss it through the panties, huh?”, you whispered in his ear, one of your hands gliding down to his crotch. “Are you hard, baby? Are you hard for me, in a fucking shop? In public? Can’t even keep it in your pants, huh..? Such a pathetic, filthy boy”, you mocked him, while he nodded, not letting a loud out past his lips, or he might actually moan.

To tease him a bit more you started rubbing him through his jeans. Steve’s head fell into his neck, mouth agape, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, while you opened his pants and stroked him over his boxershorts. There was a wet spot where the head of his dick sat and he was leaking even more precum, when you started teasing his mushroom head. “You could come like this, couldn’t you, huh? Too bad we have to get going. There are still a few things I’d like to get. Now try on the other bralette”, you didn’t take your hand from his pants, squeezing his shaft, while he took off the blue lace and tried on the white one, you were still stroking his cock over his underwear.

A quiet moan escaped his lips while he straightened up and tried to ignore your hand stroking his dick, but he wasn’t really successful, his boxershorts already being wet. “Baby boy…look at yourself. How needy you are…already so wet for me…can’t wait to see you in a pair of panties…”, you whispered in his ear, nibbling at his earlob. A quiet whine escaped Steve’s lips, while he turned his head to you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, rutting his dick into your palm. He took your hand and put it into his boxershorts, wrapping your hand around his cock, fucking into your hand quickly. “Please-please, mistress…please”, he whispered into your ear, leaning more weight against you.

For a moment you stroked his cock quicker, but before he could come you clicked your tongue, releasing his cock from your grip and pushing him gently away. A whine escaped his parted lips. “For this behaviour I don’t know if I'll let you come tonight at all. Now stand up straight and let me see your pretty tits”, you said in your usual scene voice, making Steve’s lip quiver, while he tried to ignore his arching cock and looked back into the mirror.

This bralette was even prettier than the one before, making his pecks look better than ever. Steve definitely enjoyed it, seeing how much his pupils were dilated, swallowing the blue fully. Yep, he likes it.

“Okay, then we take these two. Just come find me, I’ll be in the vibrator section”, you kissed his cheeks before leaving him in the changing room.

After he found you in the aisle, he had a big pout on his lips, probably from being edged and threatened not to have an orgasm later. It was fun to watch this big beefy man sulk over a broken up handjob, probably pushing him into his headspace even further, only making him think about one thing; pleasure.

You watched as he put the bralettes into the basked, following you around. “Look at the vibrators. You can choose one…and we’ll see, maybe I’ll let you watch me use it…or even use it on you, huh? That’s something you’d like?” Hearing this Steve’s head shot up, then quickly looked at the vibrators and pretty surely grabbed one of the bigger ones, with many different settings. Steve definitely had a great taste.

You let him put it into the basket, before looking at the other shelves. Where some cock cages were on display. Steve’s gaze followed yours. You could hear him gulp. “You’d look cute in one of these. Your pretty cock in a shiny cage…all locked up, just for me…ready for me when I’d want to use it. Just another toy in my collection, huh? You’re all mine.” Steve’s breathing became heavier, his hands twitching to touch you, while he listened to you. “ A pretty boy toy, that’s what you are…”

Steve whined and nodded immediately, pulling you closer. You gently swatted his hands away, shaking your head. “A boy toy like you can’t touch without permission. I’m giving you a last chance to behave or otherwise you’ll be punished today”, you warned him and he immediately let go of you, tears welling up in his eyes. “m sorry…” “it’s okay, baby. I know you’re too needy, to think straight. But you have to behave”, with that you finally went to the cashier to pay, Steve following you.

“I hope you found everything you needed”, the guy smiled, probably just being friendly since you two had a full basket. You smiled back at him, putting the purchases on the counter, while he scanned everything. “Yes. We’re very pleased with everything. I’ll definitely visit your shop more often”, you smiled. Steve squeezed your hand, seeing the prices being summed up.

He didn’t like you paying all this. He felt like he was using you. “Let me pay. You shouldn’t-“ “baby don’t worry about it. Let me treat you nicely. You’ll make up for it.” A soft smile crept onto his lips.

“Okay, mommy.”

As soon as he realised he said it out loud, or more like, He whined it out loud, the blush that was slowly coming down deepened once again, creeping from under his button down to the tips of his ears. The smile disappeared immediately. His gaze fell to the cashier for a moment-who also blushed-and without saying a word he went straight out of the door.

A big smile formed your lips, while you watched him leave the shop. You’re sweet, sweet boytoy just called you mommy. In front of another person. Did he forget it? Was it a habit? Proudness warmed your chest, while you happily paid for the purchases. “Bye bye”, you chipped happily, walking to the door, hearing the cashiers quiet ‘goodbye, ma’am’. It made you grin even more, especially when you found Steve waiting for you outside. Still blushing like a damn virgin (which he definitely wasn’t.)

You raised your eyebrows, laughing at Steve’s embarrassed face. “Don’t…just don’t say anything”, he mumbled, head shaking. The grin on your lips was even bigger. “It’s turning into a habit, huh?”

Steve groaned, his head falling into his neck.

“Now, let’s get home and mommy will make you feel very, very good.”

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comfort-writing · 1 year

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Crayons and Cassettes

Chapter 10: Music to My Ears (pt. 2)

You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. Waking up to Eddie is pure bliss.

warnings: making out, fingering, handjobs, morning sex, creampies. 18+ - minors DNI!! no use of y/n. (please let me know if I missed anything)

a/n: I think I have a few more chapters plotted out and I’m feeling a lot better about it. sorry for the super late upload of this chapter. let me know in the comments or my asks if you want to be added to the tag list! requests are open!

word count: 3.4k

Chapter 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 (coming soon!)

Once the concert was over, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and you body still vibrated from both the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the loud drums and bass line from the last song. Eddie looked down at you, his hair still in a ponytail but it had become a bit frizzy from dancing around, and beamed. He was so proud that he could take you places like this and you would actually have fun.

He led you out of the venue, holding your hand so you didn’t get lost in the sea of people. Once the two of you got back in the van, the quiet consumed you for a moment, coming down from the high of the concert.

Eddie laid his head back against his headrest and sighed, “You have fun?” He asked quietly, looking your way.

You nodded, “Mmhmm.”

“Good.” He whispered, taking another beat before cranking the ignition.

It was nearing ten o’clock, so he needed to start the drive home if the two of you wanted to be home at any sort of reasonable hour. You closed your eyes as you felt the car pull out of its parking space and onto the road. You were exhausted, but you didn’t want to sleep so Eddie wouldn’t have to sit in silence for two hours.

“Thank you for bringing me along. I think I might be a super fan now.”

“Of course. I bought the tickets for you, you know.” He hummed, “And seeing bands live is always better than just listening to them on the radio.”

“Yeah, I think I can officially agree with that now.” You smiled, opening your eyes and looking at him.

He paused for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, “Was that your first concert?” He asked, a bit shocked.

“First one like that. I mean, I’d been to like, classical concerts and piano recitals of course, and a couple small, basement shows in high school, but that was my first big concert.”

“Really? I thought you would’ve been a total ticket junkie by how much you love music.” He chuckled.

“Nope. Not before, at least. But I think you may have started a new addiction, so thanks for that.”

Eddie laughed quietly, and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as the stereo of the car pumped out more of the band’s music at a low volume.

The rest of the drive was spent quietly talking about all the cool things about the show and how you’d have to keep an eye out for new shows in the future. It was hard for you not to fall asleep, but you managed to stay awake.

Eddie pulled the van into your driveway, shifting it into park.

“Wanna come in?” You asked, grabbing your purse from his floor.

“Sure.” He smiled. He’d paid the babysitter for the whole night, so he wasn’t against the idea.

You led him into your house and picked up Pencil, who’d run to you as soon as she heard the door unlock, walking in. You kicked off your shoes by the door, your feet aching as you’d felt a blister slowly start to form over the hours. Eddie did the same, not wanting to track dirt or whatever godforsaken crap had gotten on them at the venue into your home.

You walked to your bedroom and flipped onto your bed, Pencil still in your arms. “I’m so tired.” You groaned, closing your eyes as you sunk into your mattress. You heard Eddie chuckle as you felt him sit next to you, reaching a hand over and scratching Pencil’s chin as she lifted her head.

“Me too. I had fun, though.”

“Same here.” You said, looking over at him. He was focused on Pencil, smiling softly as she purred. “You wanna spend the night?” You asked.

He is gaze fell on you, “I really need to shower.”

“Believe it or not, this house is equipped with a nice shower. And it’s got plenty of hot water, thanks to you.” You giggled.

“If you’re okay with it, then yeah, I’d love to.”

You nodded, happy to have him there. “You go shower first. I can make us a little late dinner.” He said, kissing your head softly as he got up to go to your kitchen.

You pushed Pencil off of your chest gently and got up, trudging to your bathroom. You cranked on the hot water, stripping off your clothes and stepping in once it was hot enough. You rinsed all the sweat off and quickly lathered and rinsed, not wanting to take too long. You finished up and toweled off, wrapping one around your hair and getting in your favorite pajamas, which was an oversized shirt and underwear.

You padded your way to the kitchen, seeing Eddie boiling some pasta on the stove. You walked up behind him and hugged him from behind, smelling like soap and the perfume he loved. He placed his hands over yours. The whole thing felt so domestic. You kissed his shoulder blade and rested your towel covered head there, sighing softly. He turned the stove off, and you moved away to sit on the island of the kitchen as you watched him drain the pasta. He’d also warmed up a jar of alfredo sauce, and you smiled, “This is my favorite comfort meal, you know.”

“I remembered you mentioning it once.” He hummed, placing the pot of now drained noddles on the stove. He dished out two bowls and handed you one before searching the drawers for utensils. You pointed to the right one and he opened it, grabbing two forks. He stood facing you, leaning on the counter you sat on as the two of you ate in silence. You’d mumbled a thank you, to which he nodded.

Once he finished, he rinsed his bowl and placed it in the dishwasher, then grabbed the now empty pots off of the stove and stood over the sink to wash them. You ate the last bite of your food and hopped down from the counter before walking up behind him and placing your hand on his back.

“You go shower. I’ll take care of this.” You said, tapping him out. He nodded, leaning down and kissing you gently before heading off to your bedroom. You’d left out a fresh towel and another one of your oversized shirts for him to wear, as well as a pair of pajama pants you’d been given that were entirely too large on you, but you’d accepted anyways because they were a gift.

You rinsed your own bowl and fork, sticking them in the dishwasher before scrubbing the pots down and dried them off with a dish towel before placing them back in a cabinet.

You walked back to your bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door, sticking your head in, “Can I come in? I need to brush my teeth.” You called over the noise of the shower.

“Yeah, of course.” He called back.

You entered the bathroom and unraveled the towel from your hair and brushed it out before grabbing your toothbrush. You brushed your teeth as you listened to Eddie him quietly to himself in the shower. You spit out the toothpaste and wipes the corner of your before walking over to the shower.

You peeled back the curtain just enough to stick your head in, facing him as he washed his face. “Hey.” You smiled.

He chuckled and looked back at you, “Hey.”

“Kiss me.” You said, closing your eyes and puckering your lips expectantly.

“You’re gonna get all wet.” He laughed, rinsing your soap off of his face.

“I don’t care. Kiss me.” You said, resuming your pose.

He giggled and leaned down, placing a sweet kiss to your lips, his hair rewetting your own a little.

You smiled once he pulled away, “Thanks.” You said, pulling your head out of the curtain and shutting it again before walking back into your bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind you.

You turned on your bedside lamp before turning off the overhead light and crawled under your covers, sitting against the headboard so you would be awake when Eddie got out of the shower.

Your attempts didn’t work though, as you slowly drifted to sleep sitting up. Once Eddie finished his shower, he got dressed and scrubbed his hair off with his towel. He walked out of the bathroom, seeing you and chuckling, walking to the other side of the bed. He crawled up and shook your shoulder gently.

“Hey,” he whispered, “let’s go to bed.”

His voice roused you enough for you to nod and lay down, cuddling up close to him as he laid next to you. He wrapped his arm around your side as the two of you quickly fell asleep, holding each other close.

The next morning, you awoke with Eddie’s arm around you, holding your back to his chest. You were a little confused when you first woke up, but after a second, the memories flooded back and you smiled, pulling his arm tighter around you as you snuggled into him. You traced the tattoo on his forearm while you listened to his slow breathing, letting yourself soak in the moment.

After a little while, you slowly peeled yourself from his arms and slipped out of bed, managing not to wake him. You walked to the kitchen and started your coffee pot, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you waited for it to brew. You grabbed two mugs, filling your own with cream and sugar, and leaving his empty, knowing he liked his coffee black. The coffee pot clicked, signifying it was done, so you quickly poured out to cups and walked carefully back to your bed. You set them down on your bedside table before crawling back into bed, sitting up and rubbing Eddie’s back.

He slowly woke up, stretching like a cat before looking up at you and smiling, “G’mornin.” He grumbled, his voice all raspy and deep from sleep.

You smiled, reaching over for his mug. “Good morning.” You whispered, seeing him spot the mug. His eyes widened slightly and he sat up, leaning against your headboard as he slowly took the mug from your hands.

“You’re an angel.” He smiled sleepily, leaning over to kiss your lips sweetly before sitting back to take a sip of the hot coffee.

You smiled and grabbed your own, taking a sip and humming. The two of you drank your coffee in silence, leaning against each other and waking up slowly as the soft morning sunlight poured into your window.

Once you’d finished half of your mug, you spoke. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock. That’s probably the best sleep I’ve had since I stopped smoking weed.” He whispered.

You chuckled, “Me too. Well, I didn’t smoke, but I slept really well.”

“Good.” He hummed, reaching over and setting his mug down. You did the same, then he pulled you close, kissing the top of your head as he rubbed your arm.

You leaned into his touch, loving the quiet the morning provided. The two of you stayed snuggled up together for a while, letting the minutes tick past. Eventually, he turned reached up and took your chin in his hand, pulling it towards his face and kissing you gently once again. You pulled away after a second, covering your mouth with your hand, “I have coffee breath.” You whispered, almost getting up to brush your teeth before he grabbed your waist, keeping you in place.

“I do too. Kiss me anyways.” He smiled.

That was all the convincing it took for you to lean back and kiss him again, soft and sweet and sleepy. He kept his hand on your waist, using his thumb to rub comforting circles on your skin.

It all felt so familiar, like you’d been doing this for years, when in reality, this was the first time you’d woken up next to him. You could definitely get used to this.

He eventually broke the kiss and motioned for you to lay down. You did so, and he crawled over you, pulling the covers over his back. He smiled and bent down to kiss you again, at a better angle this time. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, humming softly when he licked your bottom lip.

Instead of everything feeling so heated and quick like last night, Eddie took his time, kissing you slowly and letting his hands explode every inch of you. It felt comforting and intimate. You let your hands wander too, touching his arms, his chest, his neck, his hair that was messy from sleep.

He moved his kisses down to your neck and you smiled softly, pulling him closer to you. He smelled like coffee and your lavender shampoo with a hint of something distinctly Eddie. He loved the way your hands lazily splayed across his chest as he kissed a spot that made goosebumps crawl across your arms.

His hands slowly slid under your shirt, running up your sides, memorizing every detail. He had all the time in the world to do so, and he planned on utilizing each moment. He slowly slid your shirt up and over your head, taking care to kiss every piece of your skin he could once he had access to it.

You tugged at his shirt and he sat up and peeled it off, tossing it on the floor. He bent to kiss you again but you stopped him, holding your arms out so he would sit up. You raked your eyes over his body, getting a good look at his tattoos finally, running your hand over the one on his chest. He smirked softly as he watched your eyes study them, letting you have your little moment.

You eventually made eye contact, and he took that as your signal to come back and kiss you once again. You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and you felt his hand grab your thigh, gripping the soft flesh gently. You’d also felt him, hard and pressing against your panties. You moaned quietly into mouth as he slowly ground against you, enjoying the friction.

You tugged at his pants, and he stayed connected to your lips as he tugged them down and kicked them off. Once he’d gotten them out of the way, you reached a down between the two of you and took him into your hand. You slowly stroked his cock, humming against his lips as you realized how big he was. He took one of your breasts into his hand, gently massaging it as he groaned against your lips, keening into your hand.

After a minute, he broke your kiss and looked down at you, his breathing a little ragged. “Do you want..” he whispered, grasping at straws to find the words in his cloudy brain.

“Yeah.. yes, Eddie.” You whispered back, knowing what he was trying to ask.

He nodded and leaned down, kissing your neck and slowly tugging your underwear off, being careful not to pull too hard and ruin another pair. You lifted your legs for him, helping him get the fabric off of your body. He tossed it somewhere in your room and you spread your legs as his right hand slowly moved from your inner thigh to your cunt, his thumb sliding up and making slow circles on your clit. You moaned softly, your hand moving from his dick to his back, enjoying the feeling of his mouth and his fingers and how his hair felt on your chest. It was all-consuming, but not overwhelming. Gentle, slow, perfect.

You were already wet, but he still took his time with his fingers, slowly pushing them into you and curling them upward, massaging your g-spot as he listened to your quiet moans. He left a small hickey on the underside of your breast after he’d rolled his tongue around your nipple.

“Eddie, please.” You whined softly, gently tangling your fingers in his hair, causing him to look into your eyes, “I need you.” You practically begged.

He moved up and kissed you gently, grinding against you again, this time without any fabric separating you. You whined against his lips, so he lined himself up and broke the kiss, looking into your eyes. You stared back at his blown pupils. “You sure, baby?” He asked one last time.

“Yes.. please, Eds.” You whispered, your breath ghosting his lips.

He kissed your temple before pushing into you. He went extremely slow, letting you adjust. Your hands tightened on his scalp, holding his face close to your own as you let out small, breathy moans until he was buried to hilt. He didn’t move, waiting until you gave him the go ahead.

After a minute or so, you nodded and he began to push in and out of you, kissing every inch of you that was with his reach, one arm holding himself up and the other supporting one of the thighs you’d wrapped around him.

He never made an attempt to speed up, instead, going at an agonizing pace but making sure to push into you as deep as possible with each thrust. One of your hands stayed in his hair, while the other held into his shoulder to brace yourself as your back arched.

The hand on your thigh eventually moved between the two of you, two of his fingers rubbing your clit, making him moan into your ear when he felt you clench around him.

You felt a knot in your stomach slowly tighten as your breath picked up and your moans progressively became more frequent. You were spilling praises, telling him how good he felt and how close you were.

He kissed up your neck, his breath hot against your already burning skin, “Say my name.” He instructed.

You moaned at that, “God.. Eddie.. you’re- yes keep going.”

He kept his rhythm, feeling you get tighter as you got closer to your climax. “Come on baby,” he breathed in your ear, “cum for me.”

After a few more thrusts, you were arching your back and moaning his name as he rutted into you. “Fuck.” He groaned, close himself.

Once you’d regained yourself a little, you wrapped your legs tighter around him, “I’m on the pill, Eddie.” You whispered, “Please.. I need to feel it.”

That was all it took for him to groan and fill you up, his hips snapping into you a couple times as he finished. Once he’d come down from the high, he slowly pulled out of you, apologizing when he saw you wince slightly.

He flopped down on the bed next to you, causing you to giggle breathlessly. You turned on your side and rubbed his back gently. He smiled and pulled you close, cuddling up with you and peppering kisses on your face, loving the sound of your quiet laughter.

The two of you stayed like that for another hour, whispering and giggling, your hands gently tracing shapes on the arm that held you so close. He kissed you every chance he got, smiling against your lips.

Eventually he sighed, “I should probably relieve the babysitter of her duties soon.”

You nodded, understanding, and sat up, grabbing your now cold coffee off of your night stand and taking a sip, tugging your covers up to keep yourself warm. He got out of bed and got dressed in the clothes he’d worn last night, aware of your eyes on him as he did so. He pulled his jeans up and stuck his hip out to the side, posing and making you laugh. Once he was fully dressed, he walked over to you and kissed you again.

“I’ll call you tonight?” He asked.

“Of course.” You smiled, pecking him one last time before you watched him leave your room. You heard the front door close and you hummed, finishing up your coffee in the quiet hours of the morning.

tag list: @mcueveryday @bebe0701 @emma77645 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @nina211544 @wendyfawcett @whisperinthewoods07

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #singledad!eddie munson #singledad!eddie munson x reader #slow burn #strangers to friends to lovers #em #teacher!reader #eddie x reader #fanfic #smut #hehehe

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sequinsmile-x · 11 months

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Thirty Four

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends!!

As always, thank you so much for your love for this fic <3 It means the absolute world.

This chapter is twice the length of the usual SGW chapters, but it is their wedding, so I wanted to make sure I did it justice and gave them the day they deserve.

Please do let me know what you think <3

The next Instagram series for this universe will be posted tomorrow.

-x-

Words: 6k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

As promised, Aaron takes her to the mall the following morning.

He’d sat patiently as she tried on a few different dresses, his feedback relatively useless to her since he told her she looked beautiful in every single one. She knew the moment she’d picked the right one though, the way his eyes lit up as he looked at her was the only answer she needed.

The dress was white, long-sleeved and came down to just above her knees. It was form-fitting, tight around her bump in a way she didn’t usually dress. The v-shaped neckline of the dress gave more than a hint of cleavage, something she had given up trying to hide somewhere at the start of her second trimester, and she had a feeling that Aaron’s love of the dress had everything to do with how amazing even she could admit her breasts looked in it.

She smiles to herself as she thinks of the lingerie she’d bought when Aaron had taken Jack to the food court. It was a lacy matching set, also white, that the woman in the store had been delighted to find for her. Emily was excited for Aaron to see it, even if all she did was take off her dress and eat dessert in her underwear this evening like she currently wanted to. He always took her lead, more than happy to comply when she needed him, desperation for him thrumming in her veins, but he was also happy to simply sit next to her when sex was the last thing she wanted.

She stands in front of the mirror in their bedroom for one final look at herself. She had chosen flat shoes, her feet far too sore for even the tiniest of heels. She’d curled her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. It was the longest it had been in years. Her bangs have long since grown out, and the way her pregnancy made her hair healthy and shiny was the only side effect she actually liked. Although JJ had warned her it would be short-lived, that post-partum hair loss was real and that she should prepare herself for it.

She spots Aaron walk out of the bathroom in the reflection of the mirror, an adoring smile on his face as their eyes meet. They’d been home for an hour or so as they got ready, Jack all but vibrating with excitement for their plans for the day, not so patiently waiting in the living room, yelling up the stairs every few minutes and asking if it was time to go yet.

“You look beautiful,” Aaron says, repeating what he’d said when she tried the dress on for the first time only a couple of hours ago. “So damn beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says, her cheeks flushing as she looks at him over her shoulder for a moment before turning back to the mirror, “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

He hums, “I’m wearing one of my work suits, sweetheart. It’s what I wear every day.”

She isn’t sure how to tell him that was the exact reason she loved it. That marrying him in the same clothes he’d been wearing when she fell in love with him was perfect to her. A suit instead of a tux that she probably would have let her mother pick out because it was an easier battle to give way on than something else like the dress.

“I never thought that this is what my wedding day would look like,” she smiles wistfully as she straightens the material of her dress over her bump, critically eyeing how it clung to her skin, “I always imagined I’d be a bored socialite. That I’d marry someone that my mom deemed appropriate and have a big fancy wedding with a puffy dress and baby’s breath flowers everywhere, where she invited a ton of people I’d never met and use the whole day as a networking opportunity,” she turns to look at him, her chest blooming with love for him as he adjusts his tie, his suit one that she’d seen him wear countless times to work, “I never pictured this,” she says, closing the gap between them and taking over fixing his tie, the silk of it soft against her skin, “Or you.”

He eyes her carefully, looking for any hint on her face that this wasn’t what she truly wanted, that she was just going along with what she thought he wanted. He’d done the big wedding once before. Whilst he could never regret marrying Haley, his love for her, although different to what it had been when they first met, was something that was as much a part of him as breathing. She was the first person who had shown him that he deserved the love that had always been missing in his childhood, she was his first love. The mother of his son. But it still hadn’t worked out. They’d grown apart, heading in different directions as they got older even though they’d once walked the same path. The promises they’d made each other when they were barely older than kids themselves broken even with the best of intentions.

Emily loved him differently than how Haley had. There were no expectations, no desire to change him into someone he had once been. She took him as he was, damage and all, and loved him because of those things not in spite of them.

“There we go,” she says, laying the tie flat against him, stroking her hand down his chest as she does so, “Perfect.”

He smiles softly at her as their eyes meet, “Are you sure this is what you want, Em?” He asks, wanting to check just one last time. He reaches out for her hand and squeezes it tightly, “If you want the big wedding with the puffy dress and the baby’s breath we could do that instead once the baby is here.”

She chuckles lightly and leans in to kiss him, her lips soft against his, “I think I’m puffy enough right now without the dress,” she jokes, and he shakes his head at her, and she cuts off any attempt from him to call her beautiful, “And baby’s breath smells like piss at the best of times and that was before Nugget turned me into some kind of starving bloodhound.”

Aaron laughs and shakes his head at her, his hand on her lower back as he pulls her closer, the material of her dress soft against his fingers, and her bump pressed between them. Her heightened sense of smell had been a real issue at first, especially during her first trimester. Now she was more used to it there were only certain things that set her off, such as the smell of strong perfume or uncooked chicken made her feel nauseated.

“You’re the prettiest bloodhound I’ve ever seen,” he says, leaning in to kiss her, tasting her laugh on his tongue.

“Thanks, honey,” she replies. She hooks her arms around the back of his neck and runs her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head, “I always expected I’d have that stuff but I don’t need any of it. All I need is you, Jack and Nugget,” she says, smiling up at him, “And a foot massage when we get to the hotel later.”

She’d booked the hotel last night. Delighted at the thought of spending a night in a fancy hotel just the two of them - the one more traditional aspect of a wedding that she actually wanted. She glared at him, shutting him up with a simple raising of her eyebrow, as he looked over her shoulder and commented that the one she’d chosen was expensive. He’d left her to it after that, and she knew that at some point soon they’d have to discuss money again, that he’d have to get comfortable with the fact that her money was now theirs.

Especially because by the end of the day, he’d be her husband.

He pulls her in for another kiss, “I’m sure I can stretch to that.”

Any further conversation is cut off as Jack calls up the stairs again, his impatience clear, “Daddy, Emily, let's go get married!”

They both chuckle and Aaron leans in for one more kiss before he pulls away and winks at her, “You heard him, sweetheart,” he says, linking their hands together, “Let’s go get married.”

___

“This is boring.”

Emily chuckles as she turns to look at Jack, smiling when he raises his head from her shoulder, his lips forming a pout as their eyes meet.

“We’re just waiting our turn, sweetie,” she says, pushing his hair from his forehead, “And then Daddy and I will get married.”

“Then we’ll eat?” He asks, looking past Emily at his father.

“Yes, buddy,” Aaron replies, his arm over the back of Emily’s chair, “Then we’ll eat. And then Mommy is coming to pick you up and we’ll see you later in the week.”

“Applicants Hotchner and Prentiss?” The judge says as he walks out of his chambers, looking back and forth until they identify themselves.

“Right here,” Aaron says, standing up first before he helps Emily up, his hand tight around hers. Jack jumps up, all of his excitement returning immediately.

The judge looks them up and down and smiles, “I’m Judge Johnson, come with me please.”

Jack runs in after him, already talking to Judge Johnson at a rapid rate only an excited child could. Aaron takes a moment to squeeze Emily’s hand, stopping them both in their tracks.

“You ready?” He asks, his smile wide. She can’t help but smile back, her heart swelling with love for him and hope for their future.

She can’t help but think of everything that has led her to this moment. How her father leaving had led to her mother’s drinking. How that in itself had led to Emily sacrificing a job opportunity so she could save her mother’s life by giving up a literal part of herself, before she ran away to a job with the FBI in the mid-west that she hadn’t wanted so she could escape the life she’d found herself in. How when she was ready to come back, to be herself again, she ended up in her dream job at the BAU, totally unaware that she was about to meet the man she loves. The man who had taught her that the love she felt every day now was possible.

The man she was about to marry.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything,” she replies, squeezing his hand before they walk into the Judge’s chambers.

“Jack here has been filling me in on you two,” Judge Johnson says, smiling at Aaron and Emily, “Apparently he’s very excited for his Daddy to marry his Emily.”

Jack nods enthusiastically and points at Emily’s stomach, “That’s my baby brother or sister in there.”

Judge Johnson exchanges a kind smile with them again and looks back at Jack, “Well, we’d better get them married, huh?” He looks at Aaron and Emily, “Do you both have your ID and your marriage licence?”

Aaron nods, disconnecting from Emily as he digs through his pocket, pulling out both of their driving licences and the marriage license and placing them on the Judge’s desk. He briefly looks at them before nodding.

“This appears to be in order,” he says pushing the documentation back towards them, “Do you have your own vows?”

“No-”

“Yes,” Aaron says, cutting over Emily and smiling at her, “We also have rings.”

“Aaron,” she says, flicking her eyes between him and the judge, “I haven’t prepared anything.”

He smiles and reaches for her hand to squeeze it, “Then I’ll go first to give you some time to come up with something.”

She shakes her head at him and presses her lips into a firm line to suppress a smile, “Ok,” she says, blowing out a steady breath, “You go first.”

Aaron looks at the judge who nods, letting him know he can start, and Aaron pulls the box with the rings out of his pocket, opening it and slipping the one intended for her into his hand.

“I’ve never really been someone who is very good at expressing how I feel,” he says, holding her left hand delicately, like she was made of something fragile, as he lines up the ring with her finger, holding it in place as he carries on, “But then I met you, and immediately I felt like I could. Of course, at first those feelings were mostly irritation and mistrust,” he says, smiling when she chokes on a laugh, the sound wet as it catches on a sob, “But they quickly turned into happiness and affection. And then love. I somehow started looking for you whenever I walked into a room,” He says, clearing his throat to push down the emotion that was climbing up it, “You have saved me, Emily Prentiss. Literally. And it will be the honour of my life to love you and make it up to you for the rest of mine.”

She lets out a sob, tears falling onto her cheeks as he slips the ring onto her finger. She looks back up at him and shakes her head, “How the hell am I supposed to follow that?”

He smiles and passes her his ring, “You’ll do great.”

She’s about to cuss him out when the Judge clears his throat, and Emily briefly looks at him, not missing how the older man is looking at him with his eyebrow raised. She turns her attention back to Aaron. For a moment she isn’t sure what to say, how to express what he means to her, so she just settles on the truth.

“You say that I saved you, but I feel like you saved me. You love me without condition, something I have never experienced before you,” she says, smiling shakily at him when he reaches up to wipe a tear from her cheek, “No matter what happens you’re always there to hold me up, you’re strong so I don’t always have to be. You let me into your family, and helped me realise I could be part of one,” she reaches for his hand and holds his ring in line with his ring finger, “I love you so much, and I promise that I will for the rest of our lives.”

She slips the ring onto his finger, emotions she wasn’t expecting flooding her chest as she does so. They stare at each other for a moment before they turn to look at Judge Johnson, both of them unsure of what was next.

“I need you both to sign here,” he says, pushing a form towards them along with a pen each. They do as they are asked, unsure how something so simple could be so meaningful. The room falls into a brief silence before Jack pipes up.

“Is that it?”

All three adults laugh, and Judge Johnson speaks first, “Yes, Jack. That’s it,” he turns to Aaron and Emily, “According to the laws of the Commonwealth of Virginia, I now declare you husband and wife.”

Aaron doesn’t need further instruction, his lips are already against his wife’s as the Judge tells him he can kiss his bride. He pulls her close, his hand on her lower back as she kisses him back. They laugh as they feel the movement from the baby pressed between them.

“I love you,” he whispers, something quiet and just for them, before he stamps another kiss against her lips, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she replies, shaking her head slightly, in awe of the fact this had happened, that he was her husband.

“Daddy?” Jack asks, and they both turn to look at him, neither of them moving even a little bit out of their embrace. He bounds over to them and Aaron picks him up, pulling him into his and Emily’s embrace.

“Yes, buddy?”

“Can we go eat now?”

Emily laughs, and she presses a kiss to the little boy’s temple, “Yes, sweet boy. We can go eat now.”

___

There is a part of Emily that would love to know what her mother would make of her wedding lunch being at a diner. She knows she’d get a kick out of her reaction, of the look of barely covered disgust that would cross Elizabeth’s face as the news sunk in, but it’s not something she’s going to get for a long time.

If ever.

Every time Emily felt her baby move, the sharp kicks and punches that never seemed to stop these days, she wondered how her mother felt when she was pregnant with her. If she felt the same connection Emily felt. If she spoke to her in the middle of the night when those kicks and punches kept her awake.

She wondered if there was ever a time when she had come first.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

Emily looks at Aaron and she nods, ridding herself of the thoughts of her mother for today at least, wanting nothing more than to enjoy her time with her husband and her step-son, the fact she could officially call them that now making her skin tingle with joy.

“I’m ok,” she says, squeezing his hand on the table, “Just a little tired.”

“We can nap when we get to the hotel,” he promises, putting cash down on the table to pay for their meal, “Haley is meeting us in a few minutes.”

Jack sighs, “Do I have to go home?”

“Yes, Jack,” Aaron says, smiling at his son, “But you’re coming over on Tuesday and Wednesday. If I’m on a case by then you’ll need to look after Emily and Sergio for me,” he says winking at his son as if it was some great conspiracy.

Emily shakes her head adoringly as Jack nods very seriously, “Because I’m the man of the house.”

“You two are so silly,” Emily says, her smile getting impossibly wider.

“But you love us,” Jack says, sliding closer to her in the booth, his arms as tight around her as they could be these days with her bump in the way. She pulls him closer and kisses the top of his head, breathing in the sweet scent of his shampoo. She rests her cheek on top of his head and looks at Aaron, her love for the two of them threatening to spill out onto her skin.

“I really do.”

Aaron smiles at the sight in front of him, the love Emily and Jack had for each other was one of the many reasons he loved her as much as he did. He had no doubt that Emily would love Jack in the same way she’d love the baby when they were born, that for her there would be no difference in her affection for their children.

“We should get going,” he says, checking his watch and realising Haley was likely already waiting for them, her need to never be late meant she often arrived early. Emily nods and slides out of the booth, groaning as she stands, the ache in her back making her question how bad it would be when she was even further along.

Aaron grabs her hand and Jack grabs her other one, leaving her sandwiched between her two Hotchner boys as they exit the dinner and walk to the nearby park where they’d agreed to meet Haley. As soon as they spot her, Jack runs towards her, excited to see his mother even though it had only been a day since he’d last seen her.

Emily feels herself start to put some distance between herself and Aaron as they get closer to Haley, always feeling a need she couldn’t explain to ensure Haley felt respected, that she wasn’t flaunting her relationship in front of her. A notion that felt ridiculous when she was visibly pregnant, and now married to him.

Aaron doesn’t let her pull away, his hold on her hand tightening as he squeezes it, refusing to let go. She smiles at him, grateful once again that he understands her as he does, and they make it to Jack and Haley’s side.

“Hi,” Haley says, her smile plastered on her face, an expression she’d never admit she practised in the mirror before she came here, “Jack was just telling me about today. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Aaron replies, pulling his wife slightly closer, letting go of her hand so he can put his arm around her.

“They both cried,” Jack says, his smile wide and Haley laughs, looking back at the pair of them.

“Really?” She asks incredulously.

“Well I cried,” Emily explains, “But I blame that on the baby,” she says, knowing she would have cried regardless before she tilts her head towards Aaron, “He got a little misty-eyed.”

Aaron shakes his head at her, a loving glint in his eyes that he always got when she made fun of him. Emily winks at him and wraps her arm around his back, her need to get some of the weight off her aching feet by leaning on him overriding her usual desire to hide any kind of physical affection for him from Haley.

“I was getting married, I’m allowed to be emotional,” he says, his hand squeezing her hip before he looks back at Haley.

She watches them intently as she often did when they were all together. It was something that had been rare ever since her reaction to finding out Emily was pregnant. She wished she could take what she’d said in the heat of the moment back, well aware that she had damaged a relationship with someone who rarely trusted anyone. Emily had put more walls around her again, their interactions only ever about Jack or Aaron, at a push, and only if needed.

A small, very petty, part of Haley hated that she’d now lost the one thing she’d had left over Emily. The fact she’d, at one point, been married to Aaron. Their relationship was legally binding for years until it wasn’t, a signed piece of paper ending it as simply as another had started it. She’d already accepted she was no longer going to be the only mother of his children, and she accepted that Jack loved Emily almost as much as his father did, but this, for a reason she couldn’t explain, was a little harder to take.

In some way, she thought it was because it truly marked the end of her and Aaron. Even though he lived with and was having a baby with Emily, the fact they were now married, matching rings on their fingers glinting in the sun, truly put the final nail in that coffin. Putting the promises they had made each other in front of everyone they knew all those years ago firmly to rest.

She’d lost him a long time ago, and right now, as she watches the way he looks at Emily, she wonders if she’d ever truly had him. She clears her throat and looks at Emily, and she doesn’t need to be a profiler to see the discomfort on her face, likely brought on by being pregnant and being freshly married and standing in front of her husband’s ex-wife.

“You look beautiful, Emily,” Haley says, smiling when Emily’s face lights up at the compliment, her hand immediately cupping her bump as Haley looks down at it, “It’s kind of unfair how amazing you look this pregnant.”

Emily chuckles, “Thanks,” she replies, rubbing a circle on her belly, “It’s all smoke and mirrors I promise you, usually I’m just wearing leggings and an old t-shirt of Aaron’s most days.”

She regrets it as soon as she says it, well aware that any of Aaron’s older clothes were likely bought by the woman standing opposite her. Haley takes it in her stride and smiles kindly at her.

“Did you guys get any pictures?”

Aaron shakes his head, “The waitress in the diner took one of the three of us but that’s it.”

Haley frowns, looking around the, mostly empty, park they were in, a perfect backdrop for wedding photos, “Come on, you need pictures of your wedding day, why don’t I take some?”

Emily looks up at her husband, and she sees the same hesitation in his eyes that she’s currently feeling, neither one of them wanting to make Haley feel awkward, no matter how nice her offer was.

“Haley, it’s ok-”

“Aaron, you know I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him and holding out her hand, “Now give me your phone and shut up.”

Emily covers a chuckle with a cough and fails to suppress a smile as he looks down at her with his eyebrow raised. Aaron does as he’s told and hands over his phone, smiling a silent thank you at his ex-wife, her response a simple shake of her head letting him know that it was ok.

They would be in each other's lives forever. Connected by love and their history, and their son that had been born out of it.

The least she could do for him, and for Emily, was to take photos for them to remember their day. The start of the marriage that Haley knew would last forever.

___

Emily smiles as she hears Aaron audibly gasp as they walk into their hotel room. It was much grander than anywhere they’d ever stayed before, something she’d treated them to for their wedding day. She’d booked the room under Mr and Mrs Hotchner, purely just to see the smile on Aaron’s face when she said it when they were checking in.

“This room is beautiful,” he says, crowding her from behind after he drops their bags to the floor, his chest against her back as he wraps his arms around her, “Just like my wife.”

She chuckles as she leans into the kiss he presses into her cheek before she turns her head just enough to capture his lips against hers before he pulls away.

“You’re ridiculous,” she says, turning in his arms, an adoring smile spreading over her face, “Husband. God it’s warm in here,” she says, feeling the now familiar heat building up in her body, a level of discomfort she could never quite get used to even though it was how she felt every day. “Can you turn up the air-con?”

“The air-con is on full blast, sweetheart,” he says, covering his shiver at the cold air as he smiles at her, “You could always get naked,” he winks at her, his smile turning playful, “There will be no complaints from me.”

She rolls her eyes at him and steps closer, “I am wearing very nice lingerie under this dress,” she says, feeling nothing short of pride as she watches him visibly swallow thickly.

It’s chased quickly by guilt because she knows she doesn’t feel up to anything other than just laying down. Her body aching from a long day that had involved more standing and walking than she usually did these days. It made her feel frustrated, her body no longer entirely her own - something that had become abundantly clear as she became breathless walking up the stairs to the courthouse, a baby pressed up where her lungs used to be.

Aaron watches as her smile slips from her face and her eyes start to shine. He thinks he’s seen her cry more in the last 7 months than he had in the entire time he’d known her.

“Em,” he says, pulling her into a hug she gratefully returns. She fits perfectly in his embrace, her lack of heels letting him rest his chin on top of her head, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just…really tired and sore. And all I really want to do is sit in bed in my underwear and eat room service dessert,” she says as she pulls back, “But it’s our wedding night and we should totally be having all kinds of gymnastic sex-”

“Sweetheart,” he says, cutting her off before she can spiral, his hand gently cupping her cheek, “For a start, even if we’d had a regular wedding with the puffy dress and the flowers that smell like piss, we would have been on our feet all day. We’d be exhausted and would probably just collapse into bed the moment we got there,” he says, not mentioning that he is talking from experience from his first wedding. He smiles as she nods, her eyes brightening up again, “And, I had a feeling that was what you’d want to do, so I pre-ordered every dessert on the menu last night after you booked the hotel and they are being delivered in 30 minutes.”

She smiles widely at him, love and affection for him spreading through her veins. She wonders how she got here, how after everything, she found herself lucky enough to be loved by a man who knew her so well. By a man who wanted to spend the rest of his life continuing to know her, to grow with her.

“You might well be the perfect man, Aaron Hotchner.”

He chuckles and stamps a kiss against her lips, “Try and remember that when you’re in labour and hate me for ever touching you.”

“I could never hate you,” she says, kissing him once more before she turns around and pulls her hair out of the way, silently asking him to unzip her dress. He does so, gently pulling the zip down her back and helping her push the material down her arms, both of them letting it fall to the floor. He presses a kiss to the top of her spine, smiling to himself when she shivers, and then he pulls away.

She steps out of the dress and he leans down to pick it up for her, not even giving her the chance to try to do it herself. When he stands back up straight, the dress already neatly hooked over his arm, he’s met by the sight of her looking at him with her eyebrow raised, a fake frustrated look on her face. In any other circumstances, he knows she’d be mad at him for what she considered to be coddling her, even though they both knew she couldn’t lean down like that anymore. But the joy of the day overrides everything else, the fact they were finally husband and wife laying over everything like a blanket.

He looks her up and down, the sight of her, of her belly, in the lingerie she’d chosen enough to make his breath catch in his throat. She was gorgeous, and she was his.

“You really do look beautiful,” he says, sure he’s lost count of how many times he’d told her that today. He hopes that she knows he means it, that he’s not just saying it, and the blush to her skin that travels from her cheeks down to her chest lets him know that she does. He steps towards her again and kisses her cheek and then her forehead, “Why don’t you go have a bath, sweetheart, I’ll let you know when the dessert is here.”

Emily nods, the thought alone of a relaxing bath already soothing her aching muscles, and she kisses him before she walks into the bathroom. She runs a lukewarm bath and uses some of the rose-scented oils the hotel had left on the side. She groans in pleasure as she sinks into it, and she smiles when she feels the baby move.

“As soon as you’re out and I’m recovered from having you I’m having the hottest bath of all time,” she says, drawing circles on her belly, the top of it sticking out of the water, “The type that Daddy says burns off the top layer of my skin.”

Her 30 minutes are over quickly, and she hears Aaron talking to the person delivering their food. She climbs out of the bath and dries herself off before slipping her underwear back on, the thought of wearing any more clothing than that, even her pjyamas, is enough to make her skin itch. She walks back into the bedroom and smiles at the cart full of desserts that Aaron had wheeled next to the bed.

“Ok, this is officially the best wedding day ever,” she says, her mouth practically watering at all of the food.

“It’s nice to know it’s the cake that’s made you feel like that, not the fact you married me.”

The playfully sticks her tongue out at him as she climbs onto the bed, “You know what I mean.”

“What do you want to start with?” He asks, and she looks at all of her options, her eyes falling on one in particular.

“The chocolate cake,” she replies, and she smiles gratefully as he passes her the plate in question. He sits next to her on the bed and tugs her towards him so she’s sitting in between his legs, her back against his chest as his hips framed hers.

“How’s Nugget?” He asks, resting his hand on her belly, smiling at the roll of the baby under her skin.

Emily groans and takes a bite of her slice of cake, “It feels more like I’ve got a whole goddamn rotisserie chicken in there these days instead of a nugget,” she grumbles light-heartedly, her soft smile letting him know she was, at least partly, joking. “I can’t believe there are still 10 weeks of this to go. And that’s if I don’t go overdue.”

“It will go quicker than you think it will,” he assures her, adjusting how they were sitting so he was taking more of her weight, relieving some of the pressure in her back. He watches as she eats the cake faster than he thought humanly possible, but he decides not to comment, “And it will all be worth it in the end.”

“I know,” she says, putting her empty plate on the nightstand before she places her hand on her bump, “I’m just starting to feel impatient. I want to meet the baby, to hold him or her. To know if it’s a him or a her.”

He kisses the side of her head, “We could find out you know, the doctor will have written it in your file.”

She shakes her head, “No, I don’t want to. I want to find out when the baby is born as I’ve said all along,” she says, shrugging one of her shoulders, “I’m just excited.”

“Me too,” he says, cupping her cheek to tilt her head so he can guide her into a kiss, “And we still have plenty to do before Nugget is born,” he says, “We need to finish the nursery. We need to pick a name so the poor thing isn’t named after your favourite food from McDonald’s their whole life.”

She laughs, stamping her lips against his again, “That’s true,” she pulls back to look at him, a question she realises she’s never asked crossing her mind, “Naming someone feels like a lot of pressure. How did you and Haley come up with Jack?”

He smiles as he thinks about it. Those conversations felt like they happened to somebody else, which, for all intents and purposes, they may as well have.

“Haley vetoed a lot of my options,” he says, and then he chuckles, “And I had to veto a lot of her choices because I didn’t want to name our son after a serial killer.”

She laughs, the sound loud and booming and it makes the baby kick even harder. She looks up at him, “You’re kidding right?”

He frowns, unsure what she’s laughing at. She pulls away to look at him properly, amusement dancing across her face, making her look infinitely more beautiful than she already did.

“What do you mean?”

She clears her throat, swallowing back another laugh, finding it beyond endearing he’d never made the connection. “Honey…Jack the Ripper?”

She watches as the penny drops, his eyebrows shooting up his face before he starts to laugh himself.

“Well, shit.”

-x-

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31 notes · View notes

memestockpile · 1 year

Text

she loves me (2016) feel free to change as needed.

how are you this beautiful day?

that’s an awfully elegant pose.

is all that elegance necessary?

we’re stylish, with a quiet dignity.

we got the tilt of our hats right.

i think it’s very important that i look my best.

how many people did you run over today?

it's too nice a day to be inside.

i have no more energy whatsoever.

mind if i take the day off?

[name], why aren’t you old enough to take me away from all this?

marry me and i’ll quit my job.

it won’t be long, though. i’m catching up.

you know, [name] used to say i’d get to thirty-five before you did.

good morning, my dear. how are you this ravishing morning?

do you know you’ve never looked more exquisite?

what a lovely dress.

wouldn’t it be something if we all took off from work?

why not have a picnic?

i’ll stay untanned. pale, but solvent.

did you ever try their hand cream?

glamorous as garbo.

you look enchanting.

it looks like business is picking up.

could you spare me one of your stomach pills?

you know whose fault it is? yours.

i know what you bachelors are like.

i was something in days gone by.

i bet you think that’s incredible.

the fact is i’m a terrible dancer. i’ve always had trouble with my feet.

1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3, follow the beat around, around, around...

take my advice, [name]: find yourself one person to dance with.

believe me, it’s not necessary to change partners every night.

it’s a little surprise for you.

it’s a genuine leather musical cigarette box.

i can see you’re in a difficult mood today.

i’ll make you a bet.

let me spray a little on your hand.

i’m sorry, it just can’t be done.

i know this business inside and out.

i’m honest, dependable, dedicated.

it combines the three elements of good taste: attractive to the eye, attractive to the ear, and functional.

no more candy, my dear.

i forget these unimportant matters pouring out my hopes and dreams to you.

i do hope you’ve forgiven me about our little misunderstanding last night.

i just can’t bear it when we quarrel.

can you, darling, truthfully?

go to hell.

do you feel an undertone of discord and a sense of tension in the air?

if it weren’t for your endearing letters, i’d be flying south with the geese.

have you read war and peace?

i’m not disappointed. far from it.

they always argue. why is that?

simple chemical reaction. you see, sometimes when two people like each other very much...

[name], my boy, they’d never believe us.

you’re all new. the dress, the shoes, the hat. it’s top to bottom.

it took me three hours to get dressed. that’s why i’m late.

[name] is an expert on love, which is really quite remarkable considering he’s never been in it.

you’re so nervous. i can feel you vibrating.

i’m nervous and upset because of this girl i’ve never met.

i can already see what a nightmare this whole day will be.

i haven’t slept a wink.

i love christmas wrapping.

i love to suffer.

why am i such an unconvincing liar?

my god, you’re even more desperate than i am.

you belong to a lonely hearts club?

i am sick and tired of you running to me like a baby on every little matter that comes up.

[name], that’s not very fair.

we’ll get on splendidly without you.

how dare you raise your voice?

i’m an idiot, but at least i’m an idiot with a job.

call me fool. that’s alright with me.

here’s my rule: never disagree.

it’s all in your perspective.

yes, sir. yes, sir. you’re so right, sir. black is white, sir.

not an ounce of self respect.

let me put it bluntly: i’m a coward.

where’s my pride? swallowed long ago.

how do i remain so calm and cheerful? how do i retain my peace of mind? let me just explain my rationale: it’s all in your perspective.

listen to an old [nationality]’s philosophy.

if a dot called [name] should scream at a speck called [sender’s name], what on earth does it matter?

just maintain a true perspective and it’s easy to avoid a clash of wills.

make sure you’re well-supplied with stomach pills.

actually, my creed is short and simple. five essential words, [name]: do not lose your job!

i have a date.

you’re not being very cooperative.

you know, i find it quite depressing that anyone could hate me so much.

you’re always the one that starts things.

for heaven’s sake, i do not resent you.

do you think i liked you criticizing my socks, my ties, my fingernails?

you are the rudest, most difficult, worse-tempered girl in the world.

let me tell you something, my young friend.

get away from me. just get away from me.

i never wished you harm, ever. you got to believe that.

i wish there were time for a proper farewell. for now, good luck and goodbye.

do keep in touch, won’t you?

when i am in my room alone and i write, thoughts come easily. words come fluently, then. that’s how it is when i am alone. but tonight there’s no hiding behind my paper and pen.

why else would i be laughing so uncontrollably?

i recall our evenings together. i recall them very well.

if it were only up to me, guess who i would hang up on the christmas tree?

you really are a rat.

you do understand, don’t you, darling?

all right, sweetheart.

i’m through with momentary thrills.

i would only go if there’s cake.

i resolve not to be so brainless.

no, i just feel a little tired.

don’t you know we try to preserve a romantic atmosphere?

what more noble calling is there than ours?

such behavior won’t be allowed.

that’s a matter of personal taste.

i will never forgive you.

at the count of five, i’ll scream.

don’t forget, i’ve had some wine and nothing to eat since noon.

are you intoxicated?

you are easily the most insensitive man alive.

are you trying to ruin me, lady?

you’re a very patient young lady.

the music is muted, the lighting is low. no wonder i feel depressed.

you’re a credit to your profession.

i have trained myself.

i’m not afraid of responsibility. i welcome it.

in a suit with a tie, i look old.

i wouldn’t let you down.

i can see by the uncertain way you frown that you’ve asked yourself, “why me?”

try me!

the customer must be satisfied.

here, we’ll smell it together.

i know every item in the store.

i use it myself every now and then.

i would gladly grow a mustache if you like.

you even managed to shortchange me.

are you in very much pain?

i did a terrible thing to you and there is no excuse.

thank you, my boy.

i don’t think i ever knew your last name.

you can count on me.

please, [name], lie down.

come help me pick a sweater.

that’s a sneaky thing to do.

i see right through you.

be a good girl and go lie down.

you’re going nowhere but back to bed.

it’s the best thing in the world when you’re sick.

that’s not unusual in a man his age.

can i borrow this? i promise to return it.

thank you for my life.

it was a nightmare in every way, but, together, you and i will laugh at last night some day.

somehow, he reminds me of doctor jekyll and mr. hyde.

she loves me, and to my amazement, i love it, knowing that she loves me.

who cares about that? it’s all in the past.

you’ve never seen a place with so many books.

do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?

i certainly hope you learn your lesson.

it’s been grand knowing you.

you’ve been kind, loyal, and so generous right down to the end.

please, don’t grieve watching me leave. that would be much too painful to stand.

it’s been fun, now i must run.

chin up.

it’s been sublime.

i hate leaving you.

you mustn’t waste a precious moment over me. you don’t have time.

just remember when you’re lonely or blue, there’s a hollow in my pillow for you.

no tears, be gay.

i’m in your debt. i owe you more than i could possibly repay. i won’t forget.

give your wife a little kiss from [sender’s name]. i never met her ... but i will, by and by.

let me say au revoir, not goodbye.

thank you for the book, it was excellent.

i’m so glad you enjoyed it.

may i walk you to the bus stop?

they can go to hell.

it’s a very special christmas eve.

you did that all in one day?

have you time for a drink?

i love opening champagne.

you’re going to be allowed to have more when you start growing facial hair.

it’s good to be home.

we’ll go to some nice restaurant.

don’t give it another thought, my boy. it’s not important.

so, tell me, mr. [name], is there anything special you’d like for christmas?

it’s too much to hope for.

you’re right, my boy.

i know you hate them, but i happen to like them.

to tell the truth, i couldn’t wait another day.

23 notes · View notes

sebastansmut · 1 year

Text

Insatiable.

You watched Steve with careful eyes as he once again made his way into your plushy prison cell.

By your calculations you had probably been locked away in his basement for about a week now, and each day becomes more confusing and frustrating than the last. The first few days felt like an apocalyptic type nightmare that you would discover as your reality upon waking up. Then just as the denial began to dissipate, things had certainly taken an unexpected turn last night when he had invited you up for dinner.

“Why did you ask me what it tasted like?” Steve questioned, his eyes squinting down at your sitting figure. He was holding a plastic grocery bag with what looked like clothes inside of it.

You took a moment to study his expression, trying to discern what type of mood he was in. He was hard to read but you adapted quick; So far you had managed not only to not piss him off, but a part of you felt like he had taken a personal interest in you- not just your meat. Trying your best to make your eyes as big and doe-like as possible, you looked up at him through your lashes. “Just curious, I suppose.” Though that wasn’t exactly the truth; This situation was very layered.

Squinting down harder, he bit his lip in contemplation for a moment before finally deciding to drop the grocery bag in front of you. “Well, I was thinking we could have dinner tonight.” His tone lowered as did he, crouching down in front of you. With his sudden proximity you could see the ferocity In his eyes. It made you gasp; Much to his pleasure. “And we can see how curious you really are.”

Though after he spoke he had yet to stand back up. Suddenly, his hand reached out for the side of your face, cupping your cheek as you held your breath. He smirked at the reaction and ran his thumb over your cheek in soothing motions. You found yourself melting into his touch with a deep exhale.

He chuckled, his deep voice vibrating through you and again, cursing an involuntary shudder to ring throughout your spine. “Mmmm, If I didn’t know better princess I’d say you were enjoying my presence.”

I mean, it’s not like you weren’t. As much as you hate yourself for admitting it, some part of you had grown attracted to your aggressor. Despite the preliminary seething anger and feelings of betrayal he had caused to stir up inside of you the night of your capture, you had also discovered an ever-growing infatuation.

While you must admit the idea of him slowly dismembering and consuming you was unnerving, he had yet to actually take any part of you. Not that you didn’t believe he wouldn’t, but as the days come and go you can hear the other girls faint screams and fruitless sounds of struggle as Steve would take them up to his operating room; Yet not once had he taken you from your cell.

Except for tonight. A voice rang in your head, looking down upon the bag in front of you. Inside was a nice, silky black mid-length dress and a few basic makeup items. No shoes, though. You thought, staring down at the same socks you had been wearing for almost a week.

But right now, you were trying to focus on the positive. While your situation was all but desirable, if tonight’s dinner went well, you had a feeling things were about to improve for you. If you had to guess, serial killers and crazed cannibals don’t often wine and dine their victims.

And you were right.

Disregarding the connotation that came with last nights dinner, you had to chalk it up to a success. In addition to finally bringing you some nice clothes with your dress, a simple sweater and skirt, Steve also threw in an assortment of basic makeup items in your bag. While it wasn’t everything you could have hoped for, the mascara and lip gloss he gifted you definitely worked to make your face look more sultry during your meal together.

You can admit you weren’t great at too many things, but you could always tell when a man was attracted to you; and the way Steve’s eyes never strayed from you didn’t go unnoticed.

They frequently darted between your eyes and your mouth, almost like watching you eat the meals he made got him off. It probably did. Your brain reminded you. Use it.

With slow motions you cut off another piece of the dish he prepared you, and brought it up to your mouth while never breaking eye contact. You could see the way his pupils grew and eyes darkened, prompting you to gently part your lips just ever so slightly; and take a small, careful bite. Trying to ignore what exactly it was that you were eating, you tried your best to make it look like the best bite you had ever taken.

From there, things got interesting to say the least. While the sexual tension between you two was palpable, nothing that Steve did or said gave you enough confidence that his attraction to you was stronger than his desire to consume you. At least, not until right now.

As Steve stood in front of you, you remained crouched down on your knees looking to at him through your mascara-coated lashes. “Yes?”

Though he remained silent, you could tell he was thinking about what to do by the way his jaw was clenching. Such a sharp jawline.

Still silent, he crouched down in front of you, his eyes burning holes into you. It almost worried you, the way he wasn’t speaking. His usual light banter was typically how you could tell he was in a good mood.

Trying your best to keep somewhat of a poker face, you cocked your head to the side slightly. “Steve,” you began, your voice gentle as possible,” are you oka-“

A sudden choke cut you off as Steve’s hand clamped tightly around your neck. “Shut up,” he breathed, “and let me think.” The devious look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine.

Fear began to pool inside your abdomen...along with something else. A small whimper escaped you as you took in the delicious situation. As much as he scared you, Steve enticed you even more. Besides the fact that you’ve always been an outcast and he was impossibly good at making you feel seen, his lifestyle was alluring.

And he was just a gorgeous specimen.

“You like that, don’t you?” He said through his teeth, bringing you back to reality. “I knew it. You’re filthy. You want to be daddy’s little whore.”

Your eyes grew wide, not believing the moment you’ve been craving ever since he tied you up on the first night was actually happening.

Not that you hadn’t had sex before he captured you, you had; and it was good, but Steve was playing a part back then. He acted with reservations, inhibitions.

You both did.

But now, now as you sit there relishing in the feel of his hand around your throat, you could both be free.

“Yes, daddy.” You choked out, your eyes closing as you threw your head back.

He scoffed and gripped your neck harder, a nasty smirk curling on his lips. “I fucking knew it.” His free hand hooked onto the waistband of your sleep shorts, “You pretended to be happy in your fancy corporate world,” then suddenly his hand plunged, “but , I know what you really want.” As his fingers teased their way into your folds you couldn’t help but to fidget at the sensation; Your eyes even rolled back for a brief moment. “You want to submit to someone. To me. You don’t want to ever use that pretty little head of yours for anything other than giving me pleasure.”

Steve began to gently spread his fingers and you gasped suddenly, relishing in the feeling. “Steve I-“

Your head was slammed into the wall behind you and the grip on your neck suddenly became threatening. “Bad girl,” he brought his lips up to your ear, “you know what my name is.”

Another whimper escaped you as you moaned out his new title. “Daddy, please.” His fingers began to move again, but just ever so slightly. You whined again.

“What’s wrong my dumb little bunny?” He teased, “please what?” The more gravely his voice got the tighter you felt yourself clench.

Oh god, he was gonna make you say it.

You tried to buck your hips around to attempt to create some friction but your efforts were thwarted when Steve held down your hips. “Nuh-uh-uh.” He clicked, taking his hand out from inside my shorts and causing me to let out a huge whine. The smirk that painted itself on his face grew wider at my reaction. “What is it, ____?”

You tried your best to throw your biggest, most pouty-expression on him. “Daddy, please stop teasing me.” Looking up at him through your eyelashes you silently pleaded with him. “I need to feel you.”

Suddenly you were pushed onto the floor, and as you laid on your back you watched the man above you grow hungry with desire. He quickly threw his shirt off over his head, revealing the impossibly perfect physique you had been craving since your last night together.

His teeth suddenly sunk into your neck with a delicious sting; coinciding with the return of his hand down your shorts, you gasped, and you felt his low chuckle vibrate through your body. “Mmm, you are so delicious.” Steve’s whispers danced across your neck as he nibbles on your earlobe. “My dumb, beautiful, complacent little cumslut.” One of his fingers teased your entrance mercilessly as you relished in the way he spoke to you.

It was easy for you to loose yourself like this. To just completely surrender your body and mind to Steve; Anything he wants, you’ll give him, just as long as he keeps touching you.

Once you felt his long finger slip inside you your eyes closed and a moan escaped from deep in your chest. You bucked your hips trying to meet his hand in a thrust.

“You want it rough, huh?” He chuckled, his eyes growing darker as he stared down with a sinister look. “What a dirty little slut.” Pulling his finger back out, you whined at the loss, and he started to tease your slick folds again, making him chuckle.

As another one of his fingers slid over, and across, but never inside you, a loud whine left you with impatience. You looked up at him, your eyes pleading for him to completely take over, but you knew he was having too much fun watching you squirm to make it that easy.

But this wasn’t your first rodeo, and it looked like it was about time to flip the script and pull out the tricks.

Releasing any inhibitions you previously held, each movement he made elicited a sultry moan or mewl, and tried your best to muster up the most sensual expression possible. Your eyes fluttered close when his speed picked up, and he finally plunged two of his digits inside you.

A high pitched squeak left your mouth at the sudden movement- a sound that drove Steve crazy. His smirk grew from ear to ear as he continued to plunge into you with the same delicious brute force that made you cry out the first time. Steve relished in the sounds of your moans bouncing off the walls. He loved to be the one to do this to you.

“_____, you really are irresistible.” His praises washed over you, adding to your euphoric state as he continued pumping his fingers into you at a steady rate. “I knew from the moment I saw you that I’d have to have you. I knew I’d have to make you mine forever.” Suddenly, his hand focused in on your bundle of nerves, applying a delicious amount of pressure in a circular motion that made you scream out in pleasure.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you relished in the feeling. “Fuck daddy,” You breathes, arching your back to meet his hand,” you make me feel so fucking good!” Thrashing your hands around in their binds, you fervently thrust your hips up, trying desperately to create the friction you so craved.

A low chuckle vibrates through his chest as he finally obliged your requests, plunging his hand a bit deeper, and with just a bit more of the delicious force he was using. As he curled his fingers another sultry mewl rolled off your tongue, eagling him on. “You are such a nasty little slut, moaning for me.” Steve’s free hand cupped your face, “I bet you’ve been wanting this ever since you woke up chained to my floor.”

You nodded, a meek look in your eyes as you looked up at the handsome devil above you.

“And I love it when you fucking look at me like that, god.” He breathed out, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Like a beautiful, complacent little bunny. My bunny.” Your sexy new title rolling of his tongue was music to your ears and you let out another sharp squeal of joy, followed by a brief case of the giggles, making him smirk even more. As he picked up the pace you spread your legs open further, trying desperately to get him to fuck you.

“Daddy,” you whined, your eyes closed as he slipped his fingers in and out, and all over your slick pussy. “deeper daddy, please.”

Steve continued staining down at your possesively, watching how you responded so eagerly to every little touch. “You want it deeper baby?” He cooed, slipping in a third finger and beginning to pump incredibly, incredibly slow. An evil look came into his eye “I think you’re gonna have to do something for me first.” And before you could ask what, he took his fingers out of you and began to speedily undo his pants.

It felt like not a moment passed before you were faced with his impressive length, plopping promptly out of his pants and bouncing around deliciously.

Without much warning, he grabbed the back of your head and steadied himself as he shoved his dick inside your mouth, and down your throat. You moaned deeply as he began to push in and out.

“Fuck yes just like that.” He hissed, his mouth hanging open with pleasure. “Be a good little slut for me.”

You closed your eyes and relished in the moment; possibly the hottest sex you’ve ever had— and you haven’t even fucked yet.

Swirling your tongue and sucking extra hard for a little pizzazz that you hoped would impress Steve, you wished your hands weren’t still bound in their shackles so you could use them to help.

But it was kind of hot being tied up like this.

He suddenly jerked himself forward even harder, and held your head down to keep himself deep inside you for a long pause, causing a deep guttural moan to rise from your chest.

The vibrating sensation deliciously encapsulated his already throbbing member deep in your throat and Steve threw his eyes back in pure pleasure. He knew he had found what he had been looking for his whole life.

He pulled himself out with a pop, and saw a glob of saliva drip down your chin, enticing him to smear it all over your face as you continued to look up at him with those delectable “fuck-me” eyes. His smirk grew from ear to ear as he finally gave your chest a hard push, and as you fell on your back he quickly spread your legs open and crawled over you.

Positioning himself at your entrance, he placed a hand over your neck, and whispered in your ear,

“Are you ready for me, princess?”

xxxxxx

A/N: Ahhhhh guys I did it! I wrote ! If you liked it, comment, and there will be a part 2 ! If you have any other requests pls hit my ask box as it is open 😃

#sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #smut #the winter solider imagine #imagine #sebastian stan imagine #steve kemp #steve kemp smut #fresh movie #steve kemp x reader

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drabbleitout · 1 year

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Find the Word Tag

Tagged by: @zmwrites (ages ago) over here, thank you! My Words: Buzz, Drink, Wood, and Sharp Tagging: @winterandwords, @ashen-crest, @idreamonpaper, @kaiusvnoir, @emelkae, and anyone else who would like to be tagged! [As always, please don't feel pressured or rushed!] Your Words: Worth, Protect, Share, and Behavior

Buzz(ed)

“Be a detective and, what? Run myself into the ground? You guys keep my phone blown up. I’d hate to see what happens if I actually worked an on-call job. How dumb do you think I am?” Garnet picked up his plate just as his phone buzzed, nearly vibrating into his lap. Ryker’s name scrolled across the top of the screen. “You see what I mean? It’s 10 pm on a Wednesday.” He tapped his earpiece as he scraped the hash browns onto Nebraska’s plate, “Lieutenant’s line –you like it rough, I’ve got the cuffs.” “What did you do?” Was Ryker’s welcome.

Drink

“I don’t think Garnet has picked up the phone once today. Too busy talking with his Tamagotchi.” Lora thumbed across the way, over Midland’s head to where Beau sat on the edge of Garnet’s desk. They were discussing something on his screen. Beau kept leaning over, swiping upwards to scroll through a number of images, pausing to point one out. They laughed. Garnet shook his head, giving a light shove as he said something else. Valetta snickered. “Oh, dee-lish, what is this drink?” “It’s irony,” Lora mumbled over the lid of her cup. “It’s delicious.” They hummed in unison, passing a knowing look to one another.

Wood(en)

A short hallway led them into the living room and Beau paused to take a look around. It wasn’t lavish, but the space had clearly been renovated. A pristine, white couch sat in the middle of the room, across from a mounted television. The walls were lined with shelves that didn’t have a single scuff, populated by tidy arrangements of hockey and rock band memorabilia. Garnet toed off his shoes, and Beau knew from staying with Valetta to do the same before entering any further. The kitchen was industrial with brushed stainless steel appliances and wooden cabinets, all of which appeared fairly new. The kitchen counters and stovetop were spotless, meticulously scrubbed down –Beau’s olfactory sensors detecting a strong smell of lavender-scented cleaner. There wasn’t a patch of carpet anywhere in the apartment, and none of Beau’s scans could find so much as a single hair on the floor.

Sharp

Beau leaped the hood of the car, catching the knifeman’s attention. It was enough to get him to stop chasing the kid, targeting Beau instead. Garnet rounded the house, tackling the knifeman at full speed. They slid across the ground, Garnet wrestling for their hands, trying to keep track of the knife. Something sharp burned as he strained to overpower him, finally getting him on his back, one hand pinned to the grass. The other came up, grabbing Garnet’s face, and smearing it with mud. It burned Garnet’s eye –reeking of copper.

#ftw game #tag games #wip: tb

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chialattea · 14 days

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The taxi station is empty except for me. I can feel the heat rolling off the pavement through my soles, and the black pants I decided to wear create a furnace— but my phone is somehow what’s scorching my thigh. I don’t take it out of my pocket. I don’t want to.

What do you talk about with someone who’s dying? When you ask about their day, when you tell them about yours, how can you keep your nerve— when you’re young and carelessly roaming through life and they’re tied down to an anchor that looks like an IV drip? I rot away on the floor in solidarity. There are the sheets that I washed in a heap on the bed; I didn’t get to hang them to dry. I stare at them while thinking of mold and wood rotting under your feet, a hull twisting and cracking. We could say “I told you so” but who would that benefit? This was an end we all saw coming. It’s not a surprise. It’s not. But it is.

I thought “you’ll die one day” and I came to accept that. I didn’t know. I didn’t know dying meant you’d never take cherry-flavored candy out of your deep pockets and wink at me. I didn’t know it’d mean time will slowly erode the valleys of your hand clasping mine until I can no longer remember being ten and going to basketball practice with you— we were awful, and yet you kept coming every day until I stopped. I didn’t know someone would now have to sit on your spot on the table because you’re not there to defend it.

I think I’d like it if Heaven was real so I’d know they’d treat you kindly. I hope you arrive as the wide eyed kid with scraped knees who deserved much more than history gave him. I hope your mom’s embrace after all these years will be as warm as you remember; I hope by merely seeing her face you’ll remember how she sounded like when she sang silly songs for us, and that you’ll be able to indulge in it this time.

But is it unfair to say I don’t want you to go to Heaven? Is it okay for me to confess one more sin before you set sail? Just one more. You did always indulge me.

I don’t know if you were a great man. The dirty rags of our family history, I’ve only seen them briefly on the rare occasions they took them out to air dry. You were a man that kept on running. From places, dreams, life.

But you always slowed down to match my pace, back then. You’d stop to see the ducks with me, and would pitch me a glass of water when I was thirsty. You and I found a baby bird that had fallen off its nest on the street, with no nest or mother to be found, waiting to be trampled on by unsuspecting passerby.

You and I stopped, though.

I cupped my hands and picked it up carefully and tearfully asked you what to do— you told me they’d die without their mom. Did you know how sad you looked when you said that? It struck me then that you also had a mom, and that she had left a few years ago. I grabbed your right hand, five fingers against four, and said: he’ll be fine! he’ll be fine! let’s go home!

They died a few hours later. You and dad went to bury them at the community park. I felt so powerless. I knew it would happen, yet didn’t want to admit it. I wasn’t even hoping that they’d heal— I kept conjuring images of their death and talked myself through imaginary aftermaths. I was in my favorite show and a character asked me about it, and I’d stoically keep myself together while narrating it, with a few tears and a heartfelt embrace. I thought about watching myself cry and anonymous spectators rooting for me. I thought I’d already experienced it in my imagination, so I’d be prepared for it.

I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop now, too. I go to bed and I think, tomorrow when I wake up you’ll be gone. You’ll be gone, but I’ll be okay. You’ll be gone, and I should have done more. You’ll be gone, and no one will fill your jacket’s pockets with cherry flavored candy in bold red wrappers. One of them will be the last one from your stash, and I’ll have to start mine.

I imagine the taste of the candy in my mouth as the phone vibrates. There are no news. I’ll have to keep on waiting.

#grief tw #personal #vent post #chia’s life #I just needed to get this off my chest #im so tired

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lianahayze · 1 year

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Shadow and the Midnight Misery

Hi there! Welcome to the very first chapter of my original story, Shadow and the Midnight Misery! The synopsis is below, and chapter 1 is under the cut. Thanks for stopping by!

Shadow Greere is desperate to make it as a rockstar. Not one to be told what to do, she resents being forced into drug rehab, only agreeing to do so so she doesn’t get kicked out of her band. But going to therapy doesn’t mean she’s actually participating. Instead of opening up, she tries to keep two secrets for as long as possible: 1) that she’s even in rehab to begin with, and 2) why she needs to be there in the first place.

Chapter 1: Late

It's my phone that wakes me up.

As I roll onto my side, I feel a deep vibration that I can't ignore. I groan, forcing my face into the pillow. Eventually, the vibrating become to much for me to ignore that I sit up, grasp at it, and, eyes crossing, try to make sense of the screen.

An alarm. It's just my alarm. Not even knowing what it's for, I turn it off and toss the phone to my feet. I attempt to get comfortable again, snuggling against the pillow.

It’s then that I notice I’m not alone.

Not only am I not alone, but I’m surrounded by three other people. I shoot up, my head swimming. I press my fingertips against my temples, but it just makes my head throb. Last night. It dawns on me: it must have been some night.

It’s not the first time I’ve woken up surrounded by strangers, but my mind is so cloudy that I have to close my eyes to think, trying to recall last night.

I remember starting the night with weed--a lot of weed. But weed always makes me sleepy, so I’d probably done a few bumps of cocaine. And I’d definitely been drinking.

I open my eyes back up. As I look around, I do notice one thing: I know where I'm at. I'm in one of the guest rooms at Lynn's house, meaning I’m in the Valley. ‘Yep,’ I think to myself, ‘last night was definitely fun.’

Even if I can't remember it.

I wiggle off the bed. My bones feel heavy, but my head feels light, and when my feet touch the ground, I collapse upon impact. I take a few moments to steady myself. After reaching for my phone, I look at the people still fast asleep. They hadn't even moved. Rubbing my eyes, I leave the room.

My feet drag as I make my way down the hall. I need to pee, and, as I yawn, I realize I'm also in desperate need of mouthwash. I find the nearest bathroom, lock the door behind me, and plop down on the toilet. My stomach starts to turn, but I ignore it. Washing my hands, I look at myself in the mirror.

Well, it could be worse.

My hair, recently lightened a golden shade of honey, somehow looks a shade or two darker. My eyebrows, practically tattooed on, look flawless, but my eyeliner is even more smudged than usual. My lipstick, too, is halfway off my lips, a thin trail of it running across my face. Clearly, I'd been drooling.

I run my fingers through my hair. I rub off my lipstick but leave everything else. I'll take care of it when I get home. I adjust my dress and make my way downstairs. Next task? Finding my shoes.

I don't get too far along in that quest.

"Whoa, I'm surprised to see you up so early."

I turn to my right. Looking annoyingly as fresh as a daisy is Dean. Even though I'm squinting, I notice how nice his eyeliner looks, like it's been freshly applied. I pull my hand to my face and give him the middle finger.

He laughs. "Good morning to you, too." He makes his way down the hall and I reluctantly follow. "Sleep well?" he asks as we walk into the kitchen.

"Maybe?" plop down at the table. "Can't tell." My body heaves, forcing me to backtrack. "No." I groan. "No, I did not."

He laughs again. "Want something to eat? Lynn's still passed out as well, but that has more to do with her schedule than a drunken stupor."

Though I don't want to know, I need to ask. "How bad was I?"

He takes a moment before responding. "I've seen worse." Huh. Okay, maybe I hadn’t been as bad as I thought. "But, then again,” he continues, “I party with pornstars and rockstars and we both know I’ve seen a thing or two."

I huff. Shit, that could mean anything.

Though I've known Dean for just a few years, he's honestly one of my best friends. Not only are we both in relatively famous bands, but we have a nasty habit of speaking our minds when our mouths should be firmly closed. He's honest, sometimes to a fault, but also incredibly sincere. The one thing, though, that's far more interesting than all of that?

The fact that he's dating Lynn Page--the pornstar.

Lynn's not her real name, but it's the only name I know her by. She's very nice--super sweet with a body anyone would envy. She's covered in tattoos, has complete looks to kill, and every inch a rockstar's girlfriend. I don't hang out with her much, but when I do, we always have good time.

"Did I do anything to embarrass either of you?"

He opens the fridge. "Nope."

"Did I do anything to embarrass myself?"

"Yeah." He pulls out some food. "Most likely."

I groan. Wanting to bang my head against the table, I lean forward. The sudden motion makes me feel queasy, though, and I pull back, hand over my mouth. I need Advil and a small pick me up--something other than food.

"Actually, I'm surprised you're still here." I ask him what he means. "Last night you kept going on and on about not overdoing it because you had something today."

I do? I try to think.

"You said you were fine to stay but that you were going to catch an early cab."

What do I have to do for today? There's the interview later this week, but that's not for a few days.

"You were out fast, though. Like, barely made it to the bed. I told you that you could crash in our room but you said something about not wanting to ‘interrupt the fucking.’ We didn't even fuck last night. Weren't planning on it; that's why I told you it was okay."

"Shit!"

And, just like that, I remember where I'm supposed to be.

I jump up. "I gotta go.” I start looking around. “My shoes. Have you seen my shoes?" Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dean watching me. Slowly, I turn to him. "Well?" I ask.

He asks, "Where are you supposed to be?"

"Band practice." And if I'm late, I’m going to be in so much trouble.

It takes some time, but eventually we find my shoes. Apparently, I'd deposited them on the staircase last night. Leaning on Dean for support, I strap them on. He then hands me my bag, and, as he does, I look inside.

I need my notebook. As long as I have my notebook, maybe they'll forgive me for being late.

I spot it and zip my bag back up. I sling it over my shoulder and start down the stairs, but, after a moment, stop, look down at my clothes, and turn back, staring up at Dean.

"I can't go like this." When he asks me if I'm going straight to the studio, I nod. "I won't have time to stop."

He shrugs. "Yeah, Lynn probably has something. What do you want?" After telling him that I don't care, he walks away. In his absence, a random person comes walking down the stairs. Clearly more hungover than I am, he doesn't even notice me. I step out of his way, holding my breath as I do. And I thought I smelled bad. What, did he throw up on himself?

Dean returns and I take the clothes. I don't even bother to look at everything, instead kissing him on the cheek. "One in a million," I tell him over my shoulder.

By the time I'm outside, I've already requested an Uber. Getting from San Fernando Valley all the way to the studio is going to cost a pretty penny, but there's not much I can do. Maybe for the next party I suggest everyone comes to my place instead of me being the one who travels?

Of course, there aren't that many people I'd invite to blowout. What, it would be the band, Dean, and Lynn? Dean and Lynn are the ones with all the friends and acquaintances, not me.

I tell the driver hello as I slide into the car but otherwise don't say anything. Now's not the time to talk. I look down at the clothes in my hands then glance up at the review mirror. With the driver's eyes on the road, there's only one thing for me to do:

I start taking off my clothes.

I peel off the dress and follow it with my bra. I take a moment to stretch before hastily pulling the shirt over my head. It's huge, probably meant to be oversized, but absolutely way too big for me. I figure the shirt is long enough to count as a dress, so I decide against putting on the shorts. Pulling a hair tie out of my bag, I look back to the front. Caught red-handed, the driver focuses back on the road. I roll my eyes, pull back my hair, and try to relax for the rest of the ride.

As I feel the car slowing down, I hear him ask,

“Do you have the code, young lady?"

The gate. We're already at the gate. "Yeah," I tell him. "It's sixty-two four." He rolls down the window and punches the keypad. The gate, old and creaky, opens and we pass through.

I stare out the window as he drives down the road. The further along we go, the bigger the houses get. No matter how many times I come through here, it always feels like my childhood. There are secrets in this neighborhood, more than everyone would care to admit. Still, it's home.

Even if I no longer live here.

He pulls into the driveway. I push on the door and say, "Thanks, five stars." I get out, slam the door behind me (further agitating my head), and watch him go. Once he's out of sight, I turn and head towards the front door.

It takes me a moment to find the right key. I can easily ring the doorbell and wait, but, instead, I fish through my purse. I find the key, unlock the door, and, burping, step inside.

The first thing I notice is how quiet it is, meaning everyone's already in the studio or none of them are here yet. I check the time and sigh. Nope, they're definitely here already. And I'm about to get an earful.

I tiptoe through the house. I’m not sure who all is here, and I really don’t want to get caught in the state I’m in. Sure, my bandmates have seen me in terrible shape, but I don’t need anyone else seeing me like this.

Walking through the house, I notice how clean everything is. Even the white marble floor, which is usually pretty clean to begin with, is sparkling. It’s so clean that I can practically see my reflection. I pause for a moment, wondering what’s going on.

I reach back into my purse. Out of habit, my fingers graze cold metal. I don't even think as I pull out the small, thin case. I'm so focused on looking around that, as my body stops and I bend forward, I don't realize what I'm doing until it's over. I snap open the case, stick my nail into the white powder, sprinkle it onto the back of my hand, put a finger over my right nostril, and, finally, inhale.

It's a small bump, but one that will work for now. I sniffle and rub my nose before closing the case and tossing it back into my purse. I take a moment to compose myself, cough, and continue on my way.

The studio is quite a distance from the house. As I walk out the backdoor, I force myself to smile. Maybe they won't be pissed this time. If I can just convince them that I overslept, not that I had been out the night before, having a good time…

When I walk into the studio, I'm surprised by what I see. Instead of warming up, they're all camped out on the couch, each one looking more annoyed than the last. Freezing in the doorway, I stare at them. My stomach drops. I don't know why, but I feel like something's wrong.

It's Dave who notices me first. Lips pursed, he stares at me.

I swallow hard. Truth be told, Dave sometimes intimidates me--actually, he used to really intimidate me. Back when we were still looking for a drummer and he'd been suggested, I'd wanted to say no. As a teenager at the time, there had been something terrifying about how tall he was. His dull, hazel eyes that never seemed impressed and a mop of black hair that always obscured some of his face, I just hadn't been able to handle him.

Of course, that was before I got to know him. I'm not so intimidated anymore, but, the way he's looking at me now, I can’t help but stiffen.

"Hi, Shadow." He somehow manages to sound both bored and sarcastic at the same time.

I wiggle around for a moment before walking over. "Hey guys." I try to sound cool. "Sorry, I know we wanted to get here early. I just, uh, my alarm. Didn't go off."

"Really?" It’s Wyatt that speaks this time. "That's what happened?"

"Yeah." As I turn to him, I notice that he's staring at the clothes I'm holding onto. His eyes trace my body, landing at my feet.

Crap. The shoes always give it away.

It doesn't stop me from trying to cover myself, though. I clear my throat. Plopping my bag and the clothes down on the floor, I say, "Yeah. Left it on vibrate."

Wyatt continues, "I thought you said it didn't go off."

I shrug. "Same thing."

Under his gaze, I begin to squirm. Not that he's intimidating like Dave, but Wyatt has this certain… look. He always looks super serious, although most of the time he’s not. When I first met him, he would always confuse me, trying to figure him out. Often, whenever he speaks, he pushes his blond hair out of his face, leans back, and looks you dead in the eye. His tone always stays the same, and sometimes I still struggle to figure out if he’s being serious, sarcastic, or something in between.

Right now, though? I know I’m in trouble.

"It's okay, Shadow. We weren't waiting too long."

I finally look at the fourth member of the band: Ethan Walsh. As I turn to him, there's a forced smile on his face, and I can tell he's trying to best to be calm. I can tell he’s trying to be calm because he's drumming his fingers against his knees--a nervous habit. He's about to play peacemaker, a role he's held many times before.

Sitting down in the swivel chair across from them, I'm ready to end this conversation before it even begins. "Well, again, I’m sorry. You guys ready to get started?" None of them say anything. They glance at each other as if deciding who should speak up first. I sigh. "Okay, fine." I lean back. "I went out last night, got a little carried away. I set a couple of alarms but only heard the last one. It won't happen again."

They still don’t respond, so I decide to be a bit more honest.

"Okay, so it won't happen again anytime soon." I pause. "What's the matter with you guys? You act like someone just died."

Eventually, it’s Dave who speaks up. "Shadow, we have an album to make."

"Yeah, I know." I reach for my bag. "I have lyrics," I say, taking out my notebook. "They're not fully done, and I haven't set them to guitar or piano or anything but--"

"We have a deadline."

"Yeah." I nod. "I know."

"He's trying to say you should have had the lyrics done a while ago." I turn to Wyatt. "We need to start looking for a producer and we can't do that unless we have an idea of the direction we're going."

He has a point. We do need a producer, but I also don't want to rush into it. The last one… Well, firing him had been a long time coming. He’d worked with us for all of our other albums, but when we’d started talking about another one, I’d put my foot down. He had to go, and though the guys had initially resisted, I’d convinced them. And though I’m happy I don’t have to work with him ever again, replacing him isn’t going to be an easy task.

"It's coming together," I tell them. "It's just going to take time. My dad always says--"

Dave cuts me off. "I love your dad--you know I do--but I'm not sure he's going to take your side on this one."

I tilt my head. What on earth is he talking about? "Okay, I just meant that he's been through this, so…"

My voice trails off.

My dad. The one reason I’m even in the music industry. I'd grown up around it--heck, I was born into it. Back in his day, my dad had been in his own band, The Nixers, and he'd fronted that band throughout their seven-year run. I'd popped out about halfway through when the band was on the decline. Having a famous dad, at times, had been hard on me growing up--I knew way more about him than I'd ever wanted to know--but the good outweighed the bad.

Plus, in times like this, I actually know what I'm talking about.

I clear my throat. "I think it's normal that we're trying to figure out the direction we're going. It happens to every band."

"Yeah," says Wyatt. "But the ones who survive are the ones who figure it out fast."

I roll my eyes. Wyatt and Dave are making a big deal out of nothing. I doubt Ethan is concerned; he’s barely said two words. He’s--

"We're just a bit worried." His voice snaps me out of my own thoughts. Worried? What could they possibly be worried about? I frown, turning to him.

"Everything's going to be fine. You're worried over nothing." I sniff. Man, I should have taken another bump. I feel jittery and on edge, not like I can conquer the world.

Heck, I don’t even feel like I can get through the morning.

"He's not talking about the band."

I look at Wyatt. He's leaning back, legs stretched out in front of him, cowboy boots crossed at his ankles. He's not looking at me, but I can sense how tense he is.

"Well what are you guys talking about, then?" No one speaks; I snap my fingers. "Hello? Either tell me why you're so pissed, or let's get going." They're mad at me for being late? Okay, fine, I get it. But now they're just stalling, taking up more time than we've already lost.

“Tell us about last night," says Wyatt, his voice flat. I glance at the others. "What'd you get up to?"

"I caught up with Dean." For some reason, I'm mumbling like I' done something wrong. I haven't done anything wrong, though; partying isn't a crime.

"What'd you do?"

"Went to a party." Why does the room suddenly feel hot? I start to squirm in my seat.

"What'd you do at the party?" asks Dave.

I scoff. "What are you, my dad?" It's meant to be a joke, but no one laughs. I roll my eyes. "It was a usual stuff. I got a little more drunk than I meant to, but, c'mon, you've all been to Lynn's. You know what those parties are like."

"So you were high, too?"

"Of course?" My response comes out as more of a question than an actual answer. I watch as Dave looks over at Wyatt and they both shake their heads.

"You have a problem, Shadow?"

"Huh?"

"You were supposed to be here over an hour ago."

"And I apologized! God, what's with all of you?" They're acting like none of them have ever been late for anything.

I snatch my bag up off the ground. Rooting through it, I say, "Are we going to start working, or what?" I pull out a joint and search for my lighter. "I have lyrics; we can look through the lyrics."

"I thought we weren't allowed to smoke it here?"

"I'm going to go outside!" When I realize I've just yelled at Ethan, I pause, staring down into my bag. I sigh. My fingers find my lighter. Head bowed, I stand up. "Here." I toss my notebook on the couch. Usually, it's for my eyes only, but what else can I do? "I'll be back." Without another word, I leave the studio.

I grumble to myself as I close the door behind me. I'm so focused on mentally cussing them all out that I don't even see someone walking over until the sun is blocked, a shadow crossed over my body. When I look up to see who it is, it’s the last person I would have expected:

My dad.

---

Thoughts? Let me know what you think here, and check out all chapters here. Hope you're having a wonderful day!

#story #fiction #music novel #music fic #free story #free fiction #writing #writer #satmm

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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?

⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink

⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook and @onherwings for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛

( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )

Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.

Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.

College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.

But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.

“What if we, like, had sex?”

Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.

After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”

“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.

Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”

You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”

“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”

“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”

“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”

The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.

Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.

“But it’s not like you’re any better.”

This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”

“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”

Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.

“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”

A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”

“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”

A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.

“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”

You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.

The cons? He’s your best friend.

The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.

Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.

“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”

“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”

“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”

Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”

“It’s true though.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”

“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”

But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”

As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”

“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”

“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?

You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.

“Y/N…”

The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.

“Touch me?”

Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.

Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.

“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”

But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”

“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.

You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.

“Like this?” You rasp.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”

“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.

“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”

He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?

He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.

“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.

The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.

“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”

And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.

But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.

So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.

Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.

A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?

Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.

“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.

Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.

You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.

“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”

More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”

“Want a minute?”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.

“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”

Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”

“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.

“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”

“Rules.”

“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”

“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”

“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”

“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”

“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”

Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”

Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”

Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”

“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”

“Yup.”

“Who have sex from time to time.”

“Yeah.”

He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”

“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.

“We might?”

“No, we definitely won’t.”

Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.

After all, what are best friends for?

So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.

A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.

It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).

But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.

It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.

Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.

Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”

There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).

But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.

As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.

“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”

“You know him?”

“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”

“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”

You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”

At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, why would I be jealous?”

You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.

So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?

“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”

Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”

“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”

Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.

It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.

“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”

“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”

Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”

Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.

“Jungkook━!”

He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.

“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”

The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.

Fuck it, you cave.

You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.

“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”

That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.

“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”

Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.

“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.

You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.

“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.

From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.

bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??

You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.

That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.

Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.

“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”

The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.

“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”

The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”

“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.

From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.

send n00ds?

miss ur tits :(

Typical Jungkook.

The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”

“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”

“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”

You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?

You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.

But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.

You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”

“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”

“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”

Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.

It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.

“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.

Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.

“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”

“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.

“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.

“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”

He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.

At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.

“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”

Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”

“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”

“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”

“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”

“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”

You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.

“Nngh, Jungkook━”

Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.

God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.

And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.

You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”

In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.

A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”

You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”

“Well…?”

“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”

That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”

“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”

A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.

Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.

That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.

And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.

He smiles.

The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.

For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.

“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”

Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”

“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.

You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━

It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.

“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”

“What?”

“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”

The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”

But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”

You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”

You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”

“Jungkook…”

“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”

“But you wanna.”

“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”

He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.

“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.

He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.

“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”

He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.

You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?

A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.

Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.

So then why does it feel like he is?

When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.

A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?

You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.

Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.

“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”

“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”

You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.

You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”

“And you said you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”

“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”

A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”

Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”

“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”

“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”

Jungkook flinches. “I know.”

“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”

“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.

“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”

“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.

“Why?”

“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”

The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”

“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”

Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━

“No.”

“What?”

“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Me?”

The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.

Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.

It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.

Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.

Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”

Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”

Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”

Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”

You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.

“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”

“Oh, Koo…”

A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.

He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” You whine.

“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”

“You already have.”

“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”

“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”

“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.

“Yeah,” You mewl.

“What do you want from me?”

“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.

He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.

“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”

You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.

So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.

“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”

He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.

“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”

With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.

A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”

“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”

A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.

“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”

“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”

Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”

“No,” You croak.

You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.

“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”

“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”

“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”

His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.

Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”

You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”

“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.

Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”

“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”

Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”

Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.

“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”

As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”

You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.

When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.

It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.

“Jungkook.”

He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”

A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”

“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”

It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”

Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”

His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”

“But?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”

So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.

It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.

Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━

“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”

The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.

“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”

He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”

You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”

“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”

“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.

A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”

Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.

Because he wants it all with you.

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