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#one day I will think up a drabble tag I promise
peachsayshi · 6 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dirty diaries
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minors / ageless / blank blogs dni - gif by @sleepygetou 💓 (used with permission)
ೃ⁀➷ notes: @sleepygetou im blaming you for this quick drabble
ೃ⁀➷ tags: toji x reader; you convince toji to participate in no nut november; suggestive; mentions of groping; fluff - wc: 539
nov. 1 - 9:22 am
"hold on a second - we aren't allowed to have sex and I can't take care of myself either?!"
you smirk with amusement, scooping another spoonful of creamy ice cream from the tub. you're sitting on the kitchen counter, kicking your legs with intrigue while watching your husband place the last clean dinner dish in the cupboard.
"that's why they call it no nut novemeber," you explain, "you're supposed to be abstaining from sex and any sexual relief. oh, and you can't watch porn. that counts as part of the challenge..."
toji turns on his heel to take a step closer. he presses his body against your legs, dark eyes flickering to the spoon in your hand that you're slowly drawing it to his lips in order to feed him some of your ice cream.
he hums, "and the videos and pictures of you that I have on my phone..." he quips, both hands finding the meat of your thighs as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "does that count too?"
you tap the back of the spoon playfully against his nose, watching him scrunch it like a little kitten in response. "yes, they count..." you lecture, despite your cheeks growing unnervingly hot.
"can I still touch you?"
"you can but...like I said, it can't lead to us having sex or any sexual relief. these same rules will apply to me as well-"
"fuck that," toji scoffs, moving his hands further up until they are resting against your hips.
you stick the spoon back into the ice cream, keeping it place as you use your free hand to trail your finger along his jaw. "why not? you think you're going to lose that easily?"
he pouts; the front of his brows pinching together in annoyance.
if there is one thing about your husband that you know for certain, it's that he won't walk away from a challenge.
"what about kissing?" he grumbles, his cheeks turning pink. "because I'm not starting my day without my good morning kiss..."
you giggle, placing the tub absentmindedly by your side so you can wrap your arms around his neck. "kissing is fine," you sweetly assure him, and follow up by placing a gentle peck on his slightly blushing cheek.
he considers it for a minute before huffing in defeat. "alright, I'll guess give it a go..."
you can't stop smiling over the fact that he looks like a child who just had his favorite toy taken away from him and the expression is far too adorable for you to even handle.
"it'll be an interesting challenge," you prompt, already making bets that the man wouldn't last a week. "I promise I won't push your buttons..."
toji arches his brow, picking up on your playfully condescending tone. the hands against your hips snake their way up underneath his old tee that you're wearing, gliding carefully up along your soft tummy. he holds your gaze, can feel the change in your breath underneath his palms. "looks like we're both in it to win it," he murmurs, the scar at the corner of his uplifting into a sinister grin. he cups your breasts in his hands as he grazes over the buds of your nipples delicately. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior as well then, sweetheart. let's see which one of us caves first."
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bratkook · 4 months
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deep six: dancing with death. (m) jjk
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part one. part two. v-day drabble
pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, fluff warnings. infidelity (but its ok i promise), protected s*x, oral, jungkook is kinda whiny and that itself deserves a warning, they're just fluffy and mushy and love each other they just dont know it yet word count. 12.2k summary. you've always known to stay away from the tombstone patches, told they were the enemy, that you'd be betraying your club if you chose not to listen. but an unsuspected friendship makes you think that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. author’s note. hihiiii, this is a prequel to the deep six series! aka how jungkook and oc start their friendship and have it blossom into what it becomes in part one of deep six. i truly love these two so much, something about their forbidden love and how jungkook is tough and dangerous but oh so sweet to her makes me fucking melt!!! ok hope u enjoy it bye ily muah
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The world is a constant blur, days merging, memories hazy and bleeding together in your mind. The only time you enjoy the blur is now, sitting on your bike as you flow through the streets. Exiting Cobra territory made you feel free, the streets widening up the further you got, allowing you to cruise without the fear of getting swiped by a careless driver. 
Your eyes fall shut briefly, taking a slow breath as you try to push the earlier feelings away. Minho was having a bad day, a deal he had hoped to make to start running ice falling through, the man in charge deciding to go with a neighboring club instead. It wasn’t your fault the man thought Minho was too hot headed and messy to not find a way to mess this deal up, wanting a club with more reach, more connections and reliability than the Cobras could offer. That didn’t stop Minho from treating you like it was your fault, doing what he did best before barking orders at you to go for a run, desperately needing alcohol to drown his emotions. 
The earlier fear still rattles you, leaves your fingers trembling slightly as they clutch the handles and accelerate. He couldn’t hurt you here, and that's all the comfort you need at the moment, finally pulling into the familiar parking lot of the bodega. There’s a few cars parked inside, a lone scooter tossed by the sidewalk, and a shiny black bike parked by the entrance. 
You eye it for a moment, always checking for visible tags that let you know if the bike belonged to a club that had the Cobra’s high on their hit list. It’d be easy to act dumb if it was, no identifying items on you, knowing better than to roam the streets without Minho with a serpent stamped on you. 
When you find nothing you decide it’s fine, knowing you were on a time crunch to get what he wanted. With another slow breath you step off your bike, already feeling your earlier nerves fade away as you enter your comfort space. It seems odd to consider it one, but something about the buzzing fluorescent lighting and peeling laminate made you feel like an individual. 
Music plays through a portable speaker by the cashier, the worker greeting you with a smile that you return before you turn down your favorite aisle. That’s when you spot him again. The Deep Six member in the same spot he was in the last time you saw him a few weeks ago. It had been a close encounter then, not realizing who he was with your boyfriend standing outside. But his arms are revealed to you now, markings on his skin making it clear what club he belonged to, leaving no room for confusion. If that somehow wasn’t enough the giant patches on his vest and the glimmering rings on his fingers spell it out, literally. 
You approach him slowly, not sure if you trust him but not fully on edge like you were before, knowing Minho’s watchful eyes weren’t observing your every move. Without the ticking bomb a few feet away you allow yourself to slightly relax in the presence of him, assuming he had no idea who you were, clearly too focused on his candy selection. 
Sure you were on a run for Minho but you always pick something up for yourself. A small smile is already on your lips as your eyes land on the sour straws, ready to pick your flavor of choice, only to find it completely empty. Instantly you know the culprit is the man next to you, remembering the way you had reached for the same candy last time you saw him here by chance, and as you turn to stare at him you see his palms cradling four packets of the sour straws, a teasing smile on his face as he meets your eyes. Greedy. 
“Sorry,” he breathes out, sounding anything but, trying desperately not to laugh and failing as he makes his way to the front to pay. You don’t even respond to him, admitting defeat as you settle on the green apple flavored ones before you return to your earlier task, finding a case of Minho’s favorite beer and paying for it. 
The heat welcomes you once more outside, loading up the beer and candy into the saddlebags on the side of your bike, already forgetting about the candy thief from inside. 
“Hey, Snake!” A voice cuts through the air, making you freeze as you search for it, finding the Six standing by the shiny black bike you had spotted earlier. He reaches into his pocket, still smiling as he pulls out the blue raspberry sour straw packet, tossing it your way with ease. 
You catch it with both palms, momentarily stunned at the small gesture and at the fact that he clearly knew you were associated with the Cobras. The rumble of his engine snaps you out of it, smiling slightly as you look up at him once more, a breathless thank you escaping your lips before he is smiling back and peeling out of the parking lot. 
When you live the life you do, constantly on edge with a paranoid boyfriend questioning everyone’s intentions, it's hard not to let his way of thinking affect your own. Even as you sit back at the clubhouse, holding onto that packet of candy, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the Six’s seemingly sweet gesture was a trap. Maybe he was testing to see how gullible you are, stupid enough to interact with him, to use you to send a message to the Cobras. It wouldn’t be the first time. Minho’s reign made you an easy target, knowing you had a lot of enemies that would love to make a lesson of you. 
It's been so long since anyone has shown you genuine kindness with no strings attached, and as you finally enjoy your treat, you can’t stop the warm feeling of hope in your chest that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. 
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You don’t return to your comfort space again until two weeks later, on another run for the club. Minho seemed to think if he gave you pointless errands to run you’d be satisfied, content with the loveless relationship and mundane everyday life. It was his way of keeping you on a leash, making you follow orders and letting the lead slacken up, only tightening it back up to remind you he was all you had. But you’d take the small moments of peace wherever you could get them. 
The lot is empty today as you pull in, the only car belonging to the worker inside. The moment of solitude only lasts for a minute, a loud rumble cutting through the air as another bike pulls in beside you. You tense up immediately, whipping your head to assess the situation, spotting the familiar Six too lost in his thoughts to realize you were here. He furrows his brows as he takes off his helmet, adjusting the large rings on his fingers before he glances your way, jumping slightly when he notices it's you. 
You eye him curiously, hands coming up to the key in the ignition, ready to start it up and tail out of here if he made a move. Minho had made a claim of some other club trying to ambush a deal earlier today, an unlucky hangout being the only one hurt, but without an identifying patch it left him on edge more than normal. So far the Six didn’t make you feel like you had to be wary, but you couldn’t be so sure. 
He seems to sense it, his arms raising up in surrender as he stays on his bike. “It’s okay snake, I don’t bite.” He smiles at his own stupid remark, but it slowly falls off his face when he sees the stoic expression remains on yours. “Seriously though, I’m just here for some smokes and a treat. I can go somewhere else if it really makes you this uncomfortable though.”
“Why aren’t you somewhere else to begin with?” you bite back, still not trusting that he wasn’t trying to trap you. 
Jungkook just sighs, hand coming up to ruffle up his helmet hair. “It’s nice to get away sometimes. This is neutral grounds, you know as best as I do that anything club related done here is a death wish.” He lets you process his statement, seeing the way you continue to eye him, your gaze tracing along the patches he wears. The large tombstone taunts you, torn and a little rugged on the edges, showing just how long he’s been wearing it. “Why aren’t you somewhere on your side of town?”
You purse your lips, looking away from him as you pull your hand away from your key, getting off your bike, deciding this conversation was better to have inside your little safe space. “Like you said, it’s nice to get away sometimes.” You hook your helmet over your handle, reaching the bodega’s door and holding it open as you look back at him. “You coming?”
He seems to snap out of it, quickly hopping off his bike and jogging your way, saying a quick greeting to the worker before going down the familiar aisle. He smiles when he sees you next to those damn sour straws. 
“Those must be your favorite huh?”
You give him a quick glance, seeing the smile on his lips before you turn back and grab a packet of the candy. “They are, so try not to take all of them at once again.”
He lets out a soft laugh, reaching forward and grabbing a couple of the same. “I gave you one last time, which says a lot because I don’t really like sharing.”
“A Six that doesn’t like sharing? That’s not surprising.” Your words are light, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn around and continue roaming the aisle. 
“Not as surprising as a Snake trying to tell me what to do.” The crinkling of plastic fills the store as he rips open his packet, taking a bite of a sour straw as he tries to hide his own smile when you give him an eye roll. 
“I’m not technically a Snake,” you mutter out, finger tracing along the chocolate bar you were contemplating grabbing. It wasn’t a lie, you didn’t wear the patch, you weren’t granted the perks of being a part of the club, nothing you said held any weight on the decisions they made. You weren’t a Cobra, you just belonged to one of them. Though that didn’t seem like the wisest thing to tell him, you knew the history between Deep Six and the Cobras, and telling him you belonged to Minho of all people would put you high up on his list of people to hurt if he had bad intentions to begin with. 
“Oh? You just like to hang on to the back of one then?”
“Something like that,” you sigh, deciding not to grab the extra treat, turning to look at him fully once more. “Are you gonna keep calling me a snake?”
His tongue prods along his cheek as he looks down at you, eyebrow slowly cocking up. “What would you rather I call you?”
“Y/N.”
He nods slowly, letting your name settle into his mind before he was reaching his hand out, the golden glimmering rings spelling out SIX shining in the light. You eye his hand for a minute before grabbing it in a gentle handshake, seeing the way he smiles before saying his own name. 
“Jungkook.”
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Jungkook was proud of his club, wore his patch with pride, did everything he could to show his loyalty. So why was he starting to tell white lies to his brothers, making up excuses to justify why he was going to the bodega on neutral grounds directly after finishing a job. He knew what would happen if they knew who he was talking to, slowly befriending. His only rational excuse was the fact that you had said you weren’t technically a Cobra, and although he’s not sure how well that would hold up to the rest of his members, it was the only excuse that helped ease his guilt. 
He was currently sat on the small sidewalk outside of the bodega, elbows leaning on his knees as he glanced around the empty lot. You had been meeting here once every week or so. He had started to take note of the typical times you’d be sent on runs of your own, choosing to coincidentally run into you at the same time. You had yet to arrive today though, leaving him waiting for fifteen minutes, wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be showing up today. 
Just before he decides to head out, you pull into the lot on your Dyna, a smile on your face when you spot him sitting on the sidewalk like a child. 
“You’re late,” he calls out, grabbing a packet of candy and tossing it your way when you get off your bike and head towards him. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware we had a time set for our little play dates.” You open up the candy, taking a bite and shutting your eyes at the sour taste. Jungkook laughs at your expression, patting the sidewalk beside him for you to settle into. 
“I can’t be left unsupervised, you should know this by now.”
You laugh now, taking a look at the bodega and the surrounding area. “Nothing seems to be destroyed, I think you do just fine unsupervised.”
He leans back on his palm, raking back his dark hair as he stares into the sky in thought. “I tend to cause psychological damage, not too big on destroying property.”
“Got it. So you torture people?”
Jungkook chuckles, turning to look at you slightly, a small twinkle of mischief flashing in his eyes as he smiles. “Exactly.”
You can only laugh, not exactly sure how truthful he was being with his little joke. The both of you made an effort to not discuss the intricacies of your clubs, not entirely sure what it was that you both did for them, knowing things would get too messy and tangled up if you did. Instead you talk about yourselves, knowing small anecdotes of each other’s childhoods, recounting stories of when he took a few tumbles on his bike when he was just starting to learn to ride, ones of you before the life of the Cobras was all you knew. 
It was a brief moment of normalcy, being able to talk to someone else, laughing over dumb jokes while sharing candy. It made you forget how twisted all of it was until you returned back home. 
Jungkook just appreciated having a new friend, someone to talk to about things that didn’t have to do with his club. He just wished he could talk to you in moments that lasted longer than the brief bodega hang outs. So as you both finish up, loading up your bike with the items you were told to come pick up, he takes a leap of faith. 
“Hey, can I—uh. Can I have your number?” He looks uncharacteristically shy as he asks this, one hand rubbing along the back of his neck. “To arrange our play dates,” he adds jokingly, a small smile on his lips in hopes of softening the blow of potential rejection as he reaches for his phone and hands it over. 
You freeze instantly, staring at his device as the voice in your head tells you not to, screams that this would get you in trouble. But the hopeful look on his face is enough to shut it up, grabbing his phone with a nod. “Sure, but uhm, I can’t text often.”
His brows furrow slightly at the tone you use, watching the way you type in your number and text yourself. Something about it made it seem like you were nervous, and the only thing he can assume is that the people you were around would grow curious over who you were texting. 
“Why? Scared your Snake friends would be pissed that a Six is texting you?” His tone is playful, but as you hand him his phone back, the look on your face makes his smile slowly fade away. 
“My boyfriend, specifically.”
Jungkook feels his heart drop at the revelation. He knew you were most likely involved with a Cobra, having seen you the first time you met on the back of one’s bike—more specifically, Minho’s bike. He had just assumed you were Minho’s chosen girl for the day, but if you were mentioning a boyfriend now, Jungkook could easily piece together who exactly that is. 
The third cardinal rule of his club replays in the back of his mind, “Never get involved with a Cobra”. It makes his head hurt, desperately trying to find a deeper excuse, a loophole to allow this to continue. It shouldn’t mean anything, you two were just friendly, barely even toeing that line as it was. But just knowing you were spoken for, by the leader of the Cobras especially, made the guilt he already felt for speaking to you get worse. 
But he does his best to shake it off, drowning out his thoughts as he takes his phone back and shrugs. 
“We’re just two people who share a love for sour straws, but if it makes you feel better you text me whenever you want.”
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You don’t text him for a while, the fear of your tiny little secret being exposed keeps you from responding to the text you had sent yourself from his phone. There was also the small feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, feeling like you had lied to him by keeping your relationship a secret. All he had assumed from the get go was that you liked to hang around Cobras, but you noticed the way his face had changed when you mentioned a boyfriend, and you can only imagine how he’d react if you told him your boyfriend was the leader of the Cobras. 
You find yourself staring at your device any chance you get, hidden in the bathroom of your place, lounging on the couch in the clubhouse, until you finally get the courage to send the first text. It makes your heart race, saving his number under your best friend's name, changing the emoji at the end so you know the difference, going as far as putting his messages on do not disturb. Clearly hiding, keeping him a secret. 
Jungkook knows it's wrong, because he’s keeping it a secret too. But once that first text was sent, they never stopped. He responds when he has time in between club duties, knowing you’ll reply when you get a moment alone. Your messages are short, random conversations that never crossed any lines, but he meant what he said, taking full advantage of having your number to coordinate your play dates. 
The guilt you feel slowly fades away with each passing day, becoming comfortable in your ways as you let him know what days you’ll be on that side of town, and before you know it, your hang outs become your favorite thing. You slowly start to consider Jungkook your friend, another rare slice of peace in your messy life. It makes you feel like your younger self, excited to speak to a cute boy and laugh until your cheeks hurt. 
And it should make you feel icky to have these thoughts about someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but your relationship with Minho had been romantically dead for years now, not able to remember the last time he did something for you that didn’t solely benefit him. So you choose to enjoy the small flutters in your stomach that occur around Jungkook, allowing yourself to sit closer to him each time, friendly touches beginning to get more courageous while still toeing the line. 
Jungkook doesn’t mind it, he thought you were pretty and would let you trace the patches on his jacket or analyze his tattoos up close if that's what you wanted. You were the one with a boyfriend, who was he to tell you what was right or wrong for you to do, he wasn’t one to judge or pull a morality card on you considering the things he does in his club. It was all mostly innocent anyways, even now as you stand a good few feet away from each other, respective candy in each other's hands, attempting to toss them into your mouths. 
It was innocent. 
“God, your aim is horrible!” you laugh out, feeling the candy hit your forehead and bounce right off. 
“What are you talking about? That was a clear headshot.” He has that charming smirk on his face as he says it, tongue flicking against his lip ring while he laughs too. 
“You’re not trying to kill me Jungkook, we’re trying to see who wins first.” You swat the remnants of sugar off your face as you reach into your own bag for a piece of candy, motioning for him to be ready. He gets into position, slightly bending his knees and angling his head back with his mouth open, ready to catch whatever you throw. With a small snicker you grab four small pieces of candy, aiming right for his face with one eye shut and sending them flying. Jungkook is totally unsuspecting until suddenly, he’s being pelted all over his face, his eyes squeezing shut at the shock. 
“Dude,” he laughs, eyes finally opening up to spot you cackling away, perfectly content at your little stunt. 
“Okay, okay sorry. For real this time. I got it, I can feel it in my bones.” Jungkook should tell you no, say you wasted your turn and deliver payback, but you look too happy right now for him to do anything but smile and nod as he gets back into position once more. He sees the way you bring your hand close to your face, shutting one eye to try to aim, tongue slightly poking out in concentration before you toss the candy across a few feet of distance. 
Jungkook doesn’t even register that the candy successfully landed in his mouth until you’re gasping in shock. That’s when his eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he begins to chew, standing up straight and feeling his heart start to warm at how proud you look at having beat him. He closes the distance between you, extending a hand out for a high five that you gladly give him. 
Now that you’re closer, you see all the sprinkles of sugar on his face. It dusts along his cheekbones and the top of his nose, looking like small freckles on his skin. You give him an endearing smile as you cup his face and swipe it away from his skin. You do it without thinking really, tips of your fingers gently flicking away the evidence of your tiny prank. 
Jungkook’s chest tightens at the soft gesture, eyes wide as he watches you, too scared to move, almost like it would startle you or make you come to your senses and remember he was a Six. He chooses to just focus on how soft your hand feels against his cheek, how sweet you sound when you say he looks like a mess, your eyes filled with what he hopes is the same adoration he has as you look up at him, a lot closer than you need to be.
Jungkook knows all the sugar is gone now but you’re still there, thumb rubbing along his cheek, tracing the scar under his eye while your gaze lands on the piercing on his lip. He holds his breath when you look up at him once more, and maybe it's his wishful thinking but he swears the way you look at him tells him to make a move, so he does. Slowly at first, wanting to give you a chance to deny his advances, but you meet his lips before he can close the distance himself.
The innocence is gone now. Jungkook had felt something brewing with each of your interactions, chalking it off to pure friendliness, but he knows a small spark had been lit the second you started speaking to each other. 
The kiss burns, the guilt and betrayal to his club clawing at his mind but he doesn't care, welcoming it as he deepens it, sliding his hand into your hair and focusing on the way you let out a soft breath as he does so. It makes your mind spin, your hands gently looping around his neck to bring him closer. You don’t have time to think, too enveloped in the way his piercing feels against your lips, how his fingers softly rake through your hair, how he takes a deep breath when you kiss him back harder. 
It's brief, a small moment of weakness led by temptation, but you can’t deny how you both feel exhilarated, wide eyes and smiles on your faces when you pull back. "You taste like candy," you giggle.
“Your favorite,” he mumbles, still close enough to nudge the tip of his nose along yours. His voice is low as he lets reality settle, slowly inching back, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the small clouds of panic start to form around you. Reality seems to be hitting you too, fear of what would happen to him if Minho ever found out, or what would happen to you if he even had an inkling. A small harmless crush had just passed over into dangerous territory. 
“Hey,” Jungkook starts softly, hand gently coming to rest on your shoulder to bring you back to the present. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“No, but it does,” you groan. It did mean something, it didn’t matter how small it seemed, but you know the kiss meant something. Your small panic had nothing to do with being unfaithful, you knew Minho cheated on you with any girls who were willing to show their loyalty to the club, and if it kept him off of you then you didn’t mind it. You were scared to put Jungkook in danger. “It means something and my boyfriend’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us if he finds out.”
“I know he is.” He shrugs, looking directly at you, seeing the shocked look on your face at his admission. 
“You know what?” you whisper. 
“I know he’s a psycho. I kind of put two and two together when you mentioned a boyfriend. It is Minho right?” When you nod slowly, still unsure how to respond he just continues speaking. “But look, I know. All of it. I know I’m not supposed to be speaking to you, let alone kissing you and enjoying it, but it happened. I know it’s wrong, that I should feel bad and I don’t, but I also know where my loyalties lie within the club and what rules I’m willing to bend. If you’re saying it means something, then it does.”
You can only stare at him, feeling the clouds of panic start to fade. “But I'm telling you, I know what's at risk and I won’t be using it to harm you.”
“I mean…it is both our asses on the line,” you mumble out, still feeling his hand on your shoulder. He smiles at your words now, making you slowly smile back. 
“So, we’re taking it to our graves?” His voice is light again, the playful tone you were used to back. When you nod he smiles wider. “Cool, should we kiss on it?”
Jungkook laughs when you shove his shoulder with a cackle, rolling your eyes as you step back, walking back into the bodega to get what you came for. “You’re so unserious. Get away from me.”
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The issue with this imaginary line being crossed is that it leaves you thinking “what’s next”, constantly wondering just what else you could get away with. One kiss shared turns into two which turns into five, given so casually it feels like second nature. It seems like both of your guards have dropped now, more at ease with each other, touches getting as bold as they could in public. 
“Are you sure my skin isn’t gonna burn off?” you joke, laughing when Jungkook gives you an eye roll. His jacket is in his hands, shaking it off before he’s swinging it around your frame, helping you slide your arms into it. He had jokingly said it would swallow you whole, and you honestly just wanted an excuse to be closer to him so when he suggested you try it on you couldn’t deny him. 
“You might burst into flames, so just drop and roll baby.” He snickers when you playfully glare at him. Jungkook looks down at you with a smile, his hands smoothing the collar before he’s taking a step back to admire how the large leather jacket looked on you. The patches cover the arms and back, his first initial, last name and rank displayed over the left breast pocket, something your finger comes up to trace absentmindedly.  
“I don’t know, the jacket suits you. You sure you don’t wanna become a Six?”
“Very funny Jungkook. They’ll be putting a Cobra on my tombstone when I’m dead.” 
He waves you off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let me live in my fantasy world, yeah?”
“Your fantasy world involves me being a Six?” you giggle, looking up at him with a sly smile.
“Don’t kink shame me. Now smile for the picture,” he sings out, bending down as he extends his arm out, ready to take a selfie. You had yet to take photos of you both, too scared to be caught by Minho, but you allowed Jungkook to document your newly formed friendship as much as he wanted, knowing he had less to worry about when it came to snooping. 
Your arms wrap around him, the tombstone patch on display as you both smile widely for the picture. He looks at it with a cheeky grin, mumbling out how cute he thought it was before putting his phone away. 
“Do you need the usual for your run today?” he asks, knowing Minho always had you stocking up his alcohol. 
“Not today. I’m technically supposed to be locked inside our place. A few Cobra’s headed out of state this morning for a meeting.”
Jungkook hums, having briefly heard of an arms deal happening out of state, he just hadn’t been aware it was the Cobra’s doing. “Why didn’t you go with?”
“Too risky.” You lean back against the textured wall of the building, still cozy in his jacket. Minho loved to have you right by his side at all times, so if he said it was safer for you to stay here then you wouldn’t question him. “He has to make sure his prized possession stays safe.”
Jungkook laughs, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side obnoxiously. “Well you tell him I have that covered.”
“Jungkook, he’d cut your tongue out. Stop it!” you cackle. 
“I’d like to see him fucking try,” he grunts out, enjoying the way you playfully swat at him. He’d like to think he could have Minho’s head served on a silver platter if he ever got close enough to put his hands on him. 
“What about you? Any fun club plans after our playdate?”
Jungkook sighs, a smile still on his face. “Nope. I’m officially clocked out.” Your laugh is felt against his side, only making his smile widen. “I just have to stop by the clubhouse to grab something before heading home.”
“How far is the clubhouse from here?” You’re looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye, your smile still as sweet as can be, but he senses some undertone that he hopes he isn’t imagining. 
“Not far, about 20 minutes. Why? You want a tour?”
That was all he had to ask before you were following his bike down the busy streets on his side of town. His jacket is still on you, providing you with a small sense of security, knowing if anyone spotted you they’d assume you were with him. It leaves you at ease, entering the secure lot of his clubhouse, coming to a stop beside him and glancing around as you take off your helmet. 
It’s empty, a few cars parked around that looked like they were in need of repair, but no other bikes or lingering people. Jungkook steps off his bike, motioning for you to follow him, excited at showing you his favorite place. 
As you follow his lead you instantly see how different Deep Six’s clubhouse is compared to the Cobras. The space is taken care of, decorated thoughtfully, a space made for business as well as hanging out with their friends and families. Touches of the club are nestled around, a large Harley on display on a far wall, a frame showing the timeline and evolution of their patch tucked between other photos, and the most obvious and slightly obnoxious ode to the club comes in the gallery wall displaying all of their mugshots. Cute. 
“It’s nothing fancy,” he mumbles, spreading his arms out as he stands in the middle of the main room. A brown tufted leather couch is right behind him, a giant pool table behind it and a fully loaded bar to the right. 
“Compared to ours it sure is.” The Cobra’s clubhouse was made for business only, the meeting room was kept in pristine condition while the rest of it was only made to be nice enough to house drunken members and whatever hangouts were in the process of joining. 
“Really?” When you nod he just frowns, approaching you to grab your hand and pull you along, trying to show you more. “I’ll show you my space.”
“Your space?” you wonder, smiling when he squeezes your palm lightly, leading you down a hall to the right. A few doors line both walls, different ranks tacked on the middle of them, coming to a stop in front of one that says Road Captain. You had never really paid attention to his rank on his jacket, never really caring to read anyone’s rank in general, but seeing it displayed on this door let you know just how deep his involvement in his club was. 
“Only ranked members get private rooms.” He sounds almost bashful as he says this, grinning before opening up the door and switching on the light. A desk is on the right, paperwork neatly stacked in piles, a dresser is along the other wall with pictures tacked onto a cork board right above it. His bed is in the middle, sheets a dark gray and neatly made. It’s nestled between two windows on either side, letting in the slowly setting sunlight. 
You step into the room, walking to the dresser to look at the photos he has tacked up. He looks younger in some of these, hair messier and longer, no piercing or tattoos yet as he leans on his bike, another member attempting to put him in a headlock. They’re all club photos for the most part, the only one standing out is a photo of a teenage looking Jungkook holding up a diploma with what you can only assume is his parents beside him. 
“Cute,” you mumble out, smiling as you turn back to face him. It was odd to feel this calm around him, so used to the faint ticking heard in your head, reminding you that you were running on borrowed time, forced to interact in small bursts. With Minho completely occupied, the ticking disappears, allowing you to fully enjoy the moment for what it was. 
“I didn’t expect you to be sentimental like this,” you tease, smiling at the way his eyes narrow at you as he approaches, his tongue poking at his cheek as he fights a smile. 
“I’m full of surprises,” he murmurs, standing a foot away from you now, peering down at you with an aura of playfulness surrounding him. Your hands reach out to gently play with the material of his shirt, tugging him even closer. Jungkook could feel the tension, the same slowly growing tension that had been brewing with each day spent together. He can only watch as your hands slowly trail up his stomach, gliding up to gingerly rest against his chest. 
He wanted to kiss you, wanted to feel you gasp against his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like he had suggested showing you his clubhouse to be a total sleaze. Jungkook knew the line had grown blurry, kisses and touches shared with ease, but he wasn’t bold enough to assume you’d be okay with taking anything further. So when you decide to make the first move, leaning up to ghost your lips over his own, he can only hold his breath, eyes fluttering shut when you softly press them together. 
Your hands rest on his shoulders now, holding yourself steady as you kiss him, feeling the way his body melts into it. You pull away with a soft smack of your lips, inching back slightly. “What other surprises do you have?” 
Jungkook holds in a groan when you start to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth, trailing them down his jaw, gently nipping the skin of his throat right below his ear. You giggle when he shudders, his hands gripping your waist, fingers tightening around you. 
“If you let me, I can show you.” His voice holds a tinge of unsureness, wanting for you to be okay with this without sounding pushy. But Jungkook had been thinking of this since your first kiss so he couldn’t help the desperate tone laced between each syllable. 
“Show me. Show me whatever you want,” you whisper, hand coming up to cup his cheek, looking up at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours he finally lets his resolve crack, attaching your lips once more in a heated kiss, finally feeling you gasp against him. 
Jungkook is a little ashamed to admit how easily this was affecting him, his heart already racing in his chest, stomach fluttering with each shared moan, bulge growing in his jeans when your hand slips into his hair and pulls. His hands slide down the material of his jacket you have on, pulling it off your body and tossing it aside without a care. He feels you smile against his lips at the action, clearly enjoying the way his hands roam along your body, desperate to touch you in ways he wasn’t able to before. 
It’s an eager dance to his bed, blindly stepping back as he guides you to it until your knees buckle against the mattress, giggling as you flop onto it. Your arm rests back to hold you steady, other hand gripping onto his shirt to yank him back over you, reattaching your lips in a heated kiss. 
Jungkook laughs into the kiss, his arm wrapping around you to haul you further up the bed properly, slowly pushing you back until you’re flat against the bed. His body settles over you, the cute visual of his hair framing his face is the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open as he pulls back. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, his hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as he smirks before dipping back down. 
He kisses the corner of your mouth, following the same trail you had left on him earlier, smiling against your skin when you shudder as he nips your neck. Slowly, his hands slide down your body, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and tugging it up to reveal your stomach. 
“Can I take this off?” he mumbles, eyes peering up at you for confirmation. When you breathe out a yes, he slides it further up, helping you slip out of your shirt fully before you’re settling on your back again. A thin bralette covers your boobs, lacey cups revealing a glimmer on your nipples that has him tilting his head in curiosity. 
You catch what he’s looking at, smile spreading on your lips as you reach up to touch his jaw, finger gently tapping along the small mole he has below his lips. “I’m full of surprises too,” you mumble, smiling wider when he boldly cups your chest, thumb swiping at your pierced nipple through the lace. 
“I can see that,” he mumurs, voice low and raspy, making your stomach flip. He looks at you once more, brow cocking up in question as his fingers toy with the fabric. You nod your head, knowing what he wanted, allowing him to slip the straps off your shoulders before he’s sliding a palm under your back to properly unclasp your bra, giving himself the perfect view. 
Its hard to ignore the small burst of confidence that surges through you when he groans, eyes hooded while he leans down to pepper kisses down your chest. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt truly desired, since you’ve been kissed delicately, had hands touch your skin so gently it tickles and leaves you breathing out a laugh. So you relish in it. You shut your eyes and enjoy the way Jungkook presses wet kisses to your skin, you let yourself gasp in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your pierced nipple and sucks. 
Your hands instinctively slip through his hair, fingers yanking his thick strands as he hums against your skin, tongue flicking along the piercing. Jungkook feels the way you jut your chest further out, back arching at the sensation. A deep groan escapes you as his palm comes up to cup your other breast, the cool feeling of his rings sending a shiver down your spine. 
He smiles as he pulls back, cocky with eyes twinkling with mischief as his fingers playfully dance down your body. 
His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers reach the waistband of your jeans, teasingly dipping past it as he lifts a brow in question. He needed clear boundaries, not wanting to cross any lines. You find it cute, how despite the fact that you’re laying here, chest heaving with anticipation, eyes surely wild with desire, he’s still wanting to make sure. 
“Can I?” He repeats his earlier question, features soft as he waits for your answer. 
“We need to even out the playing field first Six,” you tease, smiling when he chuckles and points to his shirt. You nod, staring up at him from the bed as he kneels up, staring right at you as he reaches behind his neck and yanks the shirt off of his body. 
Your blood warms up further at the sight of him, seeing his muscles flex under his tattoos as he straightens back up. Jungkook tilts his head slightly, biting on his lip ring as he fights back the smile at your clear admiration. The black marks his skin, some tattoos looking darker than others, showing you just which ones were recent additions. 
The owl on his chest looks the brightest, edges still crisp, shading looking rich in the skulls beneath each wing. They seem to move as Jungkook takes a breath, snapping you out of it as you look back into his eyes. 
“Is this even enough for you?” he jokes, smiling wide when you nod in confirmation, your eyes following his movements as his hand returns to your jeans. You watch with bated breath as he unbuttons the top, slowly pulling down the zipper before his hands hook into the waistband and starts to tug. Your hips lift from the bed to help, allowing him to pull them off, tossing them to the side along with your shoes and socks. 
You can feel your stomach flipping with nerves, the worry of doing something new with someone new, the small clouds of insecurity rolling in, wondering if you looked good in this angle, if maybe Jungkook preferred you to look a certain way or wear cute underwear with bows on the front instead of the black regular cotton ones you currently have on. 
It all settles down as he drops lowers, eyes looking up at you as he presses kisses onto your hips and slowly tugs your underwear down, clearly not paying any mind to them. A trail of goosebumps blossom down your thighs, following your underwear as he pulls them off too. He stands up once more, eyes swimming with want as he sees you. 
“Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs when he notices the way your arms begin to want to cover yourself up at being fully exposed. He thinks it's cute how shy you seem now, eyes bouncing away from his as he takes his time drinking you in. With your eyes diverted, he thinks it's a great time to dive in, his hands coming down to grip your palms while his face nudges its way into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, smiling at the way you gasp and laugh at the ticklish feeling
“Jungkook!” you giggle, feeling his hands pin your own down on the bed, his mouth traveling down your body as he guides your hands into his hair, letting you know he wants you to keep playing with the strands. Your finger twirls his hair around, feeling him smile against your skin as he descends once more. 
“Everything about you is so pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, eyes peering up at you while his hands return to your hips, slowly sliding down to your thighs to grip the flesh. Wet kisses smack into your skin, leaving a trail on each hip and down your thigh until he’s suddenly biting. He laughs when you gasp, your fingers tugging his hair on instinct when you look down with a shocked expression. 
“Looked so good you had to take a bite?” you joke, smiling down at him, feeling the fluttering in your stomach when he winks. 
“Oh I need more than just a bite,” he groans, fingers tightening their hold on your thighs before he presses a kiss directly onto your mound, slowly sticking his tongue out to gently flick along your slit. 
Jungkook loves the way your breath gets shaky as you exhale, a soft moan of his name reaching his ears when he gently parts your folds and teasingly flicks against your clit. A part of him knows this might be the one and only time he’ll ever get to experience you like this, the only time he’ll see you flush on his bed, gasping for more as your hips roll into him. So he wants to store every moment in his brain, keep it locked away until the next time he misses you. 
“Fuck Jungkook, that feels good,” you moan, fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close as he ravishes you. The praise makes his ego grow, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes your stomach tense, short little zaps of electricity flowing through your body with each flick of his tongue. 
“Good, I just wanna make you feel good.” He leans back a bit, admiring the look of your sodden folds for a moment before he's letting a glob of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your clit. He bites his lip as his fingers spread it around, coating his digits as he circles your entrance. His eyes meet yours again, brow raised in question, smiling when you nod in response. Slowly, he pushes forward, eyes focused on your reaction, seeing the way you bite down on your lip as his finger sinks in. 
Jungkook tries not to let his mind get carried away when he feels your walls fluttering around his digit, already imagining how you would feel around him, feeling his cock aching in his jeans as he sinks a second finger in to properly stretch you out. With each thrust of his fingers his mind wanders further, the need to see you falling apart leading his mouth back onto you, the combining sensation making you moan louder. 
The stretch of his fingers has your head spinning, eyes falling shut as you mewl on his sheets, fingers raking through his hair. “More Jungkook, please,” you whimper, not able to get enough of him. 
The desperation lacing your voice makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, ready to comply with anything you want. He moans against your folds, a third finger adding to the delicious stretch. The wet clicks of his fingers thrusting into your drenched pussy fill the room, and it's the greed living inside of Jungkook that makes him want to thrust into you faster, make it so that all you can hear is the sound of your pleasure. 
Your breath hitches in your throat when he curves his fingers upwards, tickling the sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. That’s when you feel the familiar cool sensation of his rings once more. You were used to feeling them on your arms when he playfully pulled you around, used to the feeling of them on your cheeks when he gripped your face before kissing you, but feeling them against your cunt each time he thrust his fingers forward, it made your body burn up with lust. There was something about having the name of a club you were told to stay far away from pressed against you salaciously that only made the waves of pleasure you feel crash over you even harder. 
“Mm, close Jungkook,” you whine, your free hand sliding up your body to tug and pinch at your nipples. Jungkook peers up at you from between his thighs and the visual of you playing with yourself while he ate you out has him making a mess in his underwear. He doesn’t even care how easy it is for you to make him this needy, knowing you were enjoying yourself because of him was all that mattered. 
“Wanna feel you baby,” he mutters out, lips shiny with your arousal, fingers scissoring inside of you, feeling the way your walls tighten around him. Your hands grip his hair tighter, making him hiss, a breathy laugh hitting your messy folds when you guide his mouth back onto you. 
Jungkook knows you’re right on the edge, the craving for your release making you arch your back, moans of his name slurring together with pleas for more more. All it takes is a few more flicks of his tongue for your climax to crest, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard reaching his ears as you gush around his fingers. 
“There you go, good girl,” he groans, pulling back as he licks his lips, staring at your trembling body with eyes swimming with lust. His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing your swollen clit, enjoying the way you writhe at the slight overstimulation. 
“Ah, ‘Guk,” you whimper. And the new nickname has him smiling, loving the way it sounds coming from you so much he almost doesn’t want to stop. It takes your small hands coming down to grip his wrist for him to finally pull away, your soft giggles of enjoyment coming to a halt when he slips his fingers into his mouth. 
“Told you I needed more than just a bite,” he teases, making an absolute show of licking his fingers. “What about you, are you satisfied?”
You lift yourself up with one arm, the other reaching forward to grip his belt loop, tugging him closer as you look up at him through your lashes. “Mm, no I don’t think I am.” His abs tense when your finger trails along his skin, toying with the button on his jeans, slowly popping them open and pulling down the zipper. 
“Then I need to fix that,” he mumbles, tongue flicking his lip ring as he stares down at you, watching the way you reach down to palm at his bulge. Your face lights up at his words, a smile spreading on your face as he helps you tug down his jeans, obviously eager. Jungkook’s smirk only deepens when your eyes widen once you finally release his cock, a small gasp escaping you at the size of him. 
Pearly beads of precum collect at his tip, swollen and aching for your touch, so when you finally grasp his length and swipe your thumb along the bulbous tip he lets out a deep groan that has your core clenching. 
“Fuck, babe.” He grunts when your palm starts to slide up and down, his eyes focused on the way you slowly inch forward, your tongue peeking out to gently lick his tip. Jungkook knows he’s in trouble, already feeling his body react to your touch. All you had done was give him a few teasing touches and his mind was already spinning. Its an inner battle as he watches you take more of him into your mouth, his jaw dropping at the warm feeling, hands clenching by his side when you moan at the taste of him. 
“Y/N,” he groans, “you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” You pop off of him with a wet smack, a saccharine smile on your lips as you giggle. 
“And that’s a bad thing?” Your head tilts as you question him, hand still lazily pumping his length. 
“It is when I want to fuck you first.” That makes your hand finally stop, brows raising in interest. Your free hand slides up his body, carefully cupping his face, guiding him down to kiss you. 
“Then fuck me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him groan against you as he kisses you harder. You know what you mean. You’re his for the night, despite how strong your connection with him is, the reality was that as long as Minho had his claws sunk into you, there would never be a chance for you and Jungkook to delve deeper into this relationship. But this tiny bubble you were both in was enough for you. 
The energy is different than what you’re used to, the both of you smiling through the kisses, soft words whispered against skin as you help him take off his jeans. Jungkook’s laugh is infectious when you gasp at the sight of his thighs, the double headed wolf tattoo catching your attention immediately, praising it under your breath before he’s kissing you once more, telling you he’ll let you properly see it later as his hands grope your sides. 
“How do you want me?” you mumble, gently nipping his lip. 
“If it was my way I’d have you in every position I could think of. You tell me, baby.” If Jungkook let his selfish desires take over, he’d tell you he wanted you to ride him, let you bounce on top of him and use him while he got to watch your pretty face. But he can’t be that selfish, even if the small pestering voice in his head tells him that this might be his only chance to. Still, his eyes are soft as he pulls back, ringed hand caressing your face with a tenderness that makes your heart clench
“Can I ride you?” Your voice is timid, just above a whisper, but it makes Jungkook shut his eyes and groan. You see, he wasn’t corny, didn’t believe in fate or anything like that, but for a brief moment Jungkook's convinced this was meant to be. 
“Fuck,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his forhead against yours. “Yes, please.”
The way he begs makes your pussy ache, hips instinctively rolling up into his, enjoying the way he hisses, rutting his cock against your inner thigh. The beads of precum leak off his tip, leaving a small puddle by your hip, smeared around as he repeats the action. 
“O-okay,” you gasp, biting down on your lip as you peek at the visual, trying not to get lost in the way he teases himself. “Let me ‘Guk, wanna feel you.”
He nods, tendrils of hair tickling your face as he kisses you again before leaning back. You try not to stare but it's so hard when he looks like that, length hard and bobbing as he rummages through the drawer by his bed, a sheepish smile on his lips when he plucks out a shiny square packet. 
Your heart races in your chest as you sit up, coming onto your knees and crawling to the head of the bed, gently patting the space next to you. Jungkook’s quick to settle beside you, back leaning against the small headboard, large hands reaching to grab your hips and hoist you over his thighs. A small laugh escapes you at being manhandled, the toned muscles of his thighs felt underneath you, his cock poking at your belly from your proximity. 
Your eyes are glued to it, watching in awe as he pulls out the condom and carefully rolls it on, a small sigh meeting your ears. 
“Can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your hand meeting his around his cock as you lift your hips just enough. His free hand finds your hip again as you guide his tip to your entrance, teasingly circling it, slipping the tip inside for a second before popping it back out, the two of you gasping at the feeling. 
“Mm, sit on it,” he groans, brows pinched together as he nudges his nose into your neck. Wet kisses mark your skin, his hand getting tighter on your hip when you repeat the action again before finally sinking further down. Your walls clench around him, the stretch making you whine. You had seen his size, knowing just how big he was, but now that he’s inside of you and you feel it, you pace yourself. 
It's unintentionally torturous, the warm tightness slowly enveloping more of him and all he could do was clench his jaw and grip you harder. Jungkook is patient, fighting every urge he has to thrust up or sit you down fully. Instead he murmurs praises into your skin, tells you how good you feel, how good you’re doing, that you’re almost there until you’re butt rests flush against his thighs. 
A shuddering breath hits his shoulder, your face coming up to stare at him properly now. He’s staring at you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly opened as he gasps when your walls flutter. 
“So big,” you mumble, kissing him gently, lips ghosting over his, hips slowly lifting an inch before coming back down. 
“I know, baby. Take your time.” He groans, kissing you harder, teeth clicking together in his haste, breathing into each other. Jungkook felt like he was dreaming, some sick fantasy teasing him while he slept, giving him a taste of you before reality would settle in and snatch it all away. But you don’t usually feel this way in his dreams, don’t dig your nails into his shoulder as you quicken your pace, your wetness dripping down his cock and pooling at the base. And Jungkook is glad that he prefers reality over his dreams for once. 
“Oh god ‘Guk,” you moan, skin slapping together with each rise and fall of your hips. His lips are coated in a sheen of spit, swollen from your kisses and gentle bites, but he gives you a smile, clearly enjoying your reaction to him. 
“Does it feel good baby?” he murmurs, voice deep and raspy at the edges, his hand sliding up your thighs, pressing into your tummy with a tilt to his head. “Feel nice and full?”
You shudder at his question, feeling the pressure of his palm, and you swear you can feel the tip of his cock nudging into it. “Y-yes, so good, so full. Just wanna fuck you forever.”
He hums, feeling your words deep inside of him. It makes him melt into the headboard, hand traveling further up until he has a handful of your tits in them. Jungkook plays with them a bit, finger pinching and twisting the hard buds, tugging gently at the silver bar, hearing you moan at the sensation. 
“You can fuck me whenever you want,” he grunts at a particular drop of your hips, the wetness aiding in your pace. 
“Really?”
“Mhm,” he groans, thumb rolling along your nipple, softly rutting up into you. “Just text me whenever you want it. Pretty face, delicious pussy, I’ll always be here for you.”
“You’re such a romantic,” you giggle, throwing your head back as you get lost in the motion. Jungkook laughs with you, arm scooping around your back to pull you closer, his mouth kissing up and down your neck, teeth grazing the surface with the urge to suck but he knows better. 
“Just for you,” he breathes into your skin, feeling you laugh again. 
It feels like nothing else matters, not the potential consequences to this, no worry about what this meant for your special friendship. All that matters is that Jungkook is grabbing you like he can’t get enough of you, kissing you like his life depends on it, not shy at all at vocalizing how good it all feels. 
“Wanna cum,” you gasp, cupping his face, seeing the way he focuses on your lips as you speak. 
“Yeah? Tell me what you need.” He bends his knees slightly, pressure on his heels as he fucks up into you. The jiggle of your tits makes his mouth water, caught in a daze. 
“Need you to touch me.” It's the softest plea, tone dripping and needy, making Jungkook nod immediately. He bites his lip as he trails a hand up your chest, over your neck until he’s cupping your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip. With a gentle tap, you’re opening up, eyes locked together as you wrap your lips around the digit and suck, giving him a teasing bite as he tries to pull it out. 
He smiles at you, bringing down his soaked thumb in between your bodies until it reaches home directly onto your clit. The sudden touch makes you gasp, bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, and its almost too much. But he’s gentle, easing you into the feeling, only applying more pressure when you finally relax, falling back into the delicious rhythm you have going. 
Jungkook can feel the coil tightening inside of him with each pulse of your pussy, walls clamping around him on each lift, making an absolute mess as the arousal drips onto his balls. 
“More?” He quickens his finger, circling your clit faster, paying close attention to your reaction. 
“Oh, fuck. No, like that. Just like that.” So he does, jaw dropped open as he watches you get lost in it all, bouncing on top of him as fast as you wanted, using him just like he wanted. Your thighs burn but it feels too good to think about stopping, the beginning signs of your orgasm licking at your skin, encouraging you to fuck him faster. You can hear how messy you’re leaving him, the squelch of your pussy blending in with the moans and thumping of the headboard. 
“Close, fuck—ah,” you stutter and gasp, brows pinched together tightly, only able to stare at him as you start to fall apart. He looks at you in awe, breathing in time with you, matching each gasp and moan, thumb slipping around in your slick. It's the accidental flick of his that has you tumbling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name as your high comes barreling at you. 
Jungkook curses under his breath as you tremble above him. Your hand curls into his hair, yanking him forward into a messy kiss as you moan unabashedly, his thumb continuing to flick along your puffy clit for another minute to work you through it before he’s clutching onto your hips and controlling your speed. You’re still twitching at the aftershocks, small sparks kissing your skin and leaving you in a comfortable haze as you tangle your tongue with his, pulling back with a smile so sweet. 
“I wanna see you cum Jungkook,” you kiss him again, teasing him as you pull away and watch him chase you for more. “Made me feel so good, want you to cum for me.”
Jungkook groans, nodding as he wraps his arm around you, pushing off the headboard until the air is whooshing around you and your back is meeting the sheets once more. He cages you in easily, arms under your back, cradling your head as he buries his face into your neck and surges his hips into you. 
Your breath leaves you at the change in position, legs wrapping around his hips, shuddering as his pelvis nudges your sensitive clit. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks, fucking you like he was starved of affection, the need to cum taking over all of his senses. 
“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Your nails dig into his back, scratching along his skin, making him groan into your ear. His thrusts grow more sporadic, shallow, losing their grace as your purposefully clench around him. 
“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” He whines, voice breathy against your neck, and you swear you’ll cum again. 
“Yeah? Cum for me, c’mon,” you whisper, grazing his back and tightening your walls again. He nods against you before he’s leaning back, giving you the view you so sweetly asked for. His thick brows are furrowed on his forehead, eyes heady with lust, and a deep groan of your name spilling past his lips as he cums. Your feet urge him closer as his hips stutter, rutting into you to milk his orgasm as he fills up the condom. 
The room falls quiet for a moment, the both of you catching your breath, hearts slowing down as the high settles over your bones. And then he’s laughing, flopping back over you and tightening his hold on your body. 
“Why are you laughing?” You giggle too, hands running through his hair as you smile in a love sick daze. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard,” he admits sheepishly, kissing your warm skin, leaning back with a childish smile as he kisses your nose and ever so slowly starts to pull out of you. The sound is filthy, core sensitive and messy, and when he fully pulls out you can’t help but close your legs. 
He simply laughs, hand softly rubbing at your calves before he’s getting up and disposing of the condom. 
You’re still in that same foggy haze from earlier, even as Jungkook returns with a damp cloth to clean you up, all you can do is hum in thanks as you melt into his sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to settle in beside you again, holding you close, hand tickling the skin of the thigh you have hooked over his hip. 
“You have such pretty legs.” It’s a soft compliment, almost like it wasn’t meant to escape him. But when you look at him with a sincere smile he continues. “If you were mine I’d beg you to wear skirts all the time just so I could stare at them, touch them—“ he grips your thighs playfully, smiling at your laugh, “I’d be able to flick it up so easily and fuck you in it.”
Your laugh is louder now, your hand playfully swatting at his chest at how quick he was to get raunchy. 
If you were mine. 
That phrase repeats in your mind, sounding like a sweet song that you’d never get tired of hearing. 
“I’ll wear one at the meet next week,” you promise, running your hand over his chest. You knew you’d be seeing him there, able to freely ogle at him with all the neighboring clubs gathered together in an attempt to keep the peace. You might not be able to interact like you usually do, but just seeing him was enough. 
Just as he’s about to reply, the sound of a familiar engine cuts the air. You freeze instantly, wide eyes staring at Jungkook, seeing the confused look on his face. He lifts a hand up, motioning for you to stay as he sits up straighter, ears perking up when he hears the front door of the clubhouse open up. 
“Stay here. They won’t come in here but I know they saw my bike so I’ll get rid of them.” You can only nod as he hurries into his clothes, buttoning his jeans in a haste and deciding to forgo his shirt and shoes as he all but runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 
The haze you felt earlier is long gone, anxiety settling into your bones once more, realizing just what sort of situation you were in. Jungkook seemed to think the golden rule of staying away from Cobras was fine with you, but who knows just what kind of loyalty the Six member in the other room holds. 
All you needed was one man hell bent on loyalty to come barging in, and you don’t even want to think of what would become of you. Your heart rattles in your chest as you sit up too, eyes glancing around the room to find your pile of clothes. 
You can hear them mumbling in the main room, Jungkook’s laughter sounding out as he jokes around with his fellow brother. You can only imagine what he’s telling him, maybe explaining why theres a second bike parked next to his, or giving his reason for being shirtless and disheveled at the clubhouse this late in the day. Whatever is going on, you know you shouldn’t wait around to see how it plays out. Being with Jungkook makes reality pause, fade away and leave you to believe that things were meant to be this easy. 
But that's not your reality. 
You knew you wanted this to happen, could still feel the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way he kissed your skin. But you couldn’t let the line be crossed this far again. You’re not sure karma would be too kind to you the next time. 
As quiet as you can, you slip out of bed, carefully putting your clothes back on and looking at the desk in the corner. Before you overthink it, you grab the pen and notepad he has resting on top of paperwork, scribbling out a quick note before you’re returning to his bedside, yanking up the curtains and wiggling the window open to slip out. 
Back in the main room, Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool, Hoseok resting against the counter as they both joke around. Jungkook is thankful that Hoseok doesn’t seem to ask too many questions, knowing very well that he must have some girl in the room, but he wasn’t nosey enough to want to know who. 
“So you’re not gonna introduce your friend?” he jokes, giving Jungkook a coy smile, enjoying the way his younger friend blushes and shoves his shoulder. 
“No you weirdo, you fucking scared her by showing up like this. Why the hell are you here anyway?”
Hoseok cackles, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the meeting room. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a cockblock. I forgot to grab some paperwork.” The way he says it makes it seem like it was work documents, contracts that needed to be signed instead of files detailing the amount of guns they’d be receiving in the next drop. He disappears into the room, returning a few moments later with the folder in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”
And he does just that, waving goodbye and stepping back outside. But as he approaches his bike he realizes the bike he had seen next to Jungkook’s was missing now. 
Jungkook is none the wiser as he walks back to his room, a smile on his face that falls when he doesn’t see you on the bed. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are missing, his curtains are drawn up and his window remains cracked open. He steps closer now, a white sheet of paper catching his attention on his desk. 
Thanks for the tour, I think your room might be my favorite<3 Remember, we take this to our graves. We’ll kiss on it over sour straws soon x
Ps. I’ll see you at the meet, I’ll be the one in the short skirt. 
Maybe it's the sick hopefulness he feels in his chest, but Jungkook can’t help but smile as he thinks this won’t be the last time afterall.
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satorusluver · 6 months
Note
Hi, you said you were doing a 500 followers thing, correct? If so, could I get number 42, breeding kink with either Toji or Choso? Just if you have a space open of course. I'd very much appreciate it, thank you.
Choso + breeding kink
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Tags/warnings: smut (minors DNI), fem reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, slightly subby Choso (?) Lots of "please" lol
Word count: 700 ish
A/N: I go feral for breeding kink Choso. Consider this a sequel to my other lil Choso drabble. I hope you enjoy! <3
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Choso, who loves family above anything else and dreams of someday becoming a father to a chubby lil baby who's the perfect combination of you and him. This man drops to his knees and presses a gentle kiss to your lower belly, to your still empty womb, when you tell him you think you're finally ready to start trying for a baby. He already worships your body to begin with, but now, to know that this woman he adores and reveres is offering to carry his child for him? The thought has blood rushing to his cock faster than it ever has before.
He wants to take you then and there, but more than that he wants to do it right and give you two the best chance of conceiving as soon as possible. So you track your cycle and Choso saves up his sperm for a few days before your window of fertility. After all, blue balling himself a little is worth it if it means increasing his chances of all that cum actually doing what it's meant to do, putting a mini Choso in your belly.
He doesn't last a whole ten minutes before cumming the first time you try to conceive because he's so turned on at the idea of finally getting to breed his sweet girl. He's already a fucked out, babbling mess who's begging for you to take every last drop of the thick load he's so lovingly saved up just for your pussy the moment he slides his length into you. He just can't believe this is real and his beloved is letting him put a baby in her. He's on top of you, one of his large hands resting almost possessively roughly where your womb is located, and his pretty face is all contorted in pleasure at the feeling of your tight, wet heat sucking him in each time he thrusts back into you like it's just as eager for his load as he is to give it to you.
You feel his full, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every stroke, and they begin to tighten as he gets closer to his release. The sounds Choso makes when he gets close to cumming are fucking beautiful, high-pitched moans, desperate whimpers and pussydrunk whines of "take it, take it, please take it. Oh god, please, baby, take my cum. G-gonna make you a mommy, gonna give you a baby, I promise."
He doesn't even really know what he's saying, too lost in the feeling of your warmth around him to think properly. He cums harder than he ever has at the thought of all his hot, sticky seed flooding your fertile womb, hoarsely moaning a mantra of "please please please" as he presses the swollen tip of his dick up against your cervix and spurts rope after thick rope of semen.
And he doesn't stop there. He keeps going, fucking his cum back into you for good measure, his fat cock still so hard and eager to give you more. The cum he's already deposited in you just makes you even wetter, and Choso watches with pride at the sight of the frothy white mess that soon covers his dick from how hard he pounded his first load into you.
"Your little pussy looks so pretty like this, my love. S-so full of my cum, yeah? 'm gonna fill you even more."
And he does, filling you two or three more times until his seed is all but gushing out of your poor, overused cunt. You honestly lose count after cumming around his cock so many times yourself. After all, he's heard that a woman's orgasm can help open up the cervix and increase the chances of conception. Whether or not that's true, Choso makes sure to rub little circles into your puffy, sensitive clit with his thumb as he fucks you until you're so overstimulated you're begging him to stop.
"My poor darling," Choso coos down at the panting mess he's made of you after hours of his ardent lovemaking.
"Does my little mommy-to-be need a break?" he chuckles when you nod weakly in response, already half-asleep sleep beneath him. Choso leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before whispering in your ear as you drift off to sleep.
"Rest up, my love, because I have more in store for you where that came from."
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celestie0 · 2 months
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nanami kento x reader | drabble
coney island. where did my lover go?
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"𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲."
ᰔ pairing. husband nanami x wife reader (f)
ᰔ summary. you're sitting on a bench in coney island, the place you and nanami met all those years ago, to talk about where your relationship went wrong. heavily inspired by the song "coney island" by taylor swift from her album 'evermore'
ᰔ warnings/tags. some pretty heavy angst. mention of blood/wounds.
ᰔ word count. 1.3k
a/n. hellooo i just had an itching to write something angsty, and i came up with something while listening to music. hope you enjoy :')
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you're sitting on a bench in coney island, wondering why nanami hasn't arrived by your side yet.
pulling back the sleeve of your blouse, you glance at your watch. the evening has settled in, and it was well past the time the two of you had agreed to meet. here, where everything began all those years ago. this place, where your soul has been left to bleed dry.
it was nanami who told you not to feed the ducks any bread. before you knew him, that was all you would do. white milk bread, torn apart into pieces, tossed into the pond in front of this bench for the quacking ducks to feed on with delight. but nanami told you that's not right. he told you that the ducks cannot digest the bread the same way that you and him do. you can relate to the ducks today, unable to absorb and understand the pain within you, and in a blink of an eye, that pain takes a seat next to you.
"hello, sweetheart," nanami says, voice soft as it always is. his familiar stature is beside you in your periphery.
your eyes flicker to your watch once more. "you're late, ken."
"i know," is all he says. "forgive me?"
you do.
"i thought you were lost somewhere," you tell him, the thought sending a shiver through you. or perhaps it was the cold.
"i wasn't lost. i could never be lost, coming to this place," he assures. you glance at the skin on his hands. he looks pale, like he hasn't seen the sun in days.
you still wonder if he's lost. you wonder if that man you loved was still out there somewhere, simply wandering, trying to find his way back to you. but the disappointment is palpable, and when you close your eyes tight, the chill of the air once again bites through your bones to silence all your hope.
"i looked for you everywhere. do you know that?" you say to him. "at the park entry, across the field. by the church. i even walked by the merry-go. and i cried when i couldn't see you standing there to watch me on the blue pegasus."
from the corner of your eye, you see him turn his head to glance at you. you can see he's wearing a grey suit, the same one he wore exactly one year ago today. the one you said goodbye to him in. "it's been a long time, love. i'd wish you would let those memories go."
"we were supposed to be married forever," you barely whisper, glancing down at your ring still adorning your left hand. your eyes flicker to his hand, and the absence of the silver promise on his finger makes your soul sulk. "you've moved on from me, haven't you?"
nanami rubs his left finger with his thumb, like the sensation of the ring was a phantom limb. "i have. and i want you to move on from me as well. one day, you'll be too old to care. so don't spend another moment of your youth thinking about me."
your youth was him, from the day you met him on this bench. sprawled across it on a warm summer tuesday, reading your paperback of les misérables that had a worn out spine, gust of wind peeling a sticky note away from the page and delivering it to the front of this tall, handsome man that was walking by. he had bent down to pick it up for you, and curiously chose to read it first before handing it back. 'to love or have loved, that is enough' it said, one of your favorite quotes from the book. you didn't know what it meant at the time, but you knew what it meant now.
"were we just fools, ken?" you ask him out of nowhere. "if i had tried harder, could we have still been together? if i had let you know what it takes to be by my side, would you have still chosen to fall in love with me in the first place? how can i shake the thought that this was all a mistake?"
he shifts in his seat beside you. you still can't brave yourself to look at him. you haven't looked him in the eyes once this entire time. and you register that there's no heat from his body, leaving you feeling barren and cold.
"i would've loved you in any lifetime. there is nothing you could have done that would've kept me away," he tells you.
"so then you'll haunt me in every lifetime, too?" you ask. "a universe away from here, i'll still see your face everywhere i go?"
"no. i agreed to meet you here today to tell you that it's finally time for you to forget. those dreams of ours, of suburban holidays and tiny fingers, they can belong to someone else," he says to you, "they should belong to someone else."
you shake your head, feeling tears prickle in your eyes. christmas, winter snow, the oaky warmth of the fireplace. fresh spring air, wildflower blossoms, trees turned lush and new. salty air, summer breeze, mist of sprinklers over brown grass and skin. but by the time autumn came, there was nothing left but heartache.
"what if i asked for your forgiveness?" you say. your hands play with the bag of white bread in your lap. you thought he would scold you for it, for not remembering the wellbeing of the ducks, but truthfully you had simply forgotten. because it was like you were the version of yourself before meeting him, and you needed him to save you again.
"there's nothing to forgive," he replies. his voice is hoarse, like he's running out of air to breathe as the sun begins to set over the horizon. like this time spent together was something bought, not gifted.
"i'm sorry," you say, because you felt like you needed to say those words. "i'm sorry for how mean i was to you the last time we spoke. i don't know what got over me, but i really wish you had just stayed." your eyes prick with tears as you stare down at your lap. "i wish you weren't so quick to leave my side, even though i told you to go."
nanami places a hand over yours. you finally notice the scars and open cuts, fresh with blood. "i know, darling. as much as it troubled me to leave, i didn't want to stay and hurt you anymore."
you felt suffocated. "if i could turn back time, i would. i would go back to that moment, last week. and i would tell you to stay, so that i could've had you for the rest of a lifetime."
his thumb runs circles over the skin of your hand, but the movement is rigid and stiff. "was it last week?"
"it was." you're not mistaken, but he will try to convince you otherwise.
"i don't think so, darling."
"it was last week."
"it's been much longer than that. fifty-two fold longer."
yes. today was the anniversary. of when you buried him in the grey suit that he wears right now.
"you see my face wherever you go, hm?" nanami says to you as the tears begin to freely flow down your face. "well, when i got into the accident, the last sight that flashed before me was your face. i'm happy. i'm so happy that the last person i thought of was you."
blinking, wet drops falling onto his pale hand in your lap. "you should've stayed," you whisper. "that night, you should've just stayed with me. i would've said sorry, and i would've loved you forever."
you're sitting on a bench in coney island, wondering where your lover went. because when the sun dips underneath the horizon, his hand disappears from your lap, and you finally turn your head to look at him. but he's gone.
and when you blink the blur of salty tears from your eyes, you realize you were never sitting on that bench, waiting for him. you were standing in front of his gravestone, hoping that he'll talk to you again someday.
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a/n. gege would love this one
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uncouth-the-fifth · 9 days
Text
good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader
read it on Ao3.
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Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!
At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.
Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.
Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.
But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.
Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.
You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—
Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?
You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?
The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.
Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.
You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.
She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.
For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.
You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.
Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—
Keys rattle just outside the front door.
First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.
Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.
You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”
“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.
If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.
“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.
You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”
Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.
Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.
He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?
Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.
“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.
Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.
He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”
Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.
You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.
One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—
“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”
—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.
With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.
Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.
One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.
“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”
You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”
Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”
Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.
“My smart girl,” he hums.
Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.
“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.
His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.
“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.
It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.
This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.
You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.
You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.
With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.
You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”
Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.
Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”
You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”
A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”
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raffe156 · 7 months
Text
Room for one more
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Pairing - Price x OC Tank (F!reader)
Summery - Testing the limits of a one man tent…
A/N- little Drabble based on those single tents @atomiccrownpoetry mentioned, I’m sorry it took so long! Though I’ve tagged it as Tank an I read it as Tank and some of you will do the same, I don’t mention her by name so can be read as Price x F!reader 😌
Warnings - Smut (18+) Voyeurism kind of , Language, Age gap Price (38) Tank (26) unsafe sex, p in v
✨As always comments and feedback welcome ✨
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank
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“You should get your head down kid, you look shattered” Price rubbed your back, he towered over you his hand lingered between your shoulder blades.
He was right it had been a long day of recon and you weren’t about to get into another argument with Soap over who ate the last digestive biscuit.
It was you but you weren’t about to admit that. Tonight was the last night of a 3 day stay in the desert and you were ready to go home.
“Yeh you’re right” You stood up stretching your back.
“Listen, one more night of this and I promise you fresh sheets and a real pillow.” Price squeezed the back of your neck a smile on his face. Everyone cheered at the idea of getting their heads down in a proper bed, but you knew he didn’t mean the beds back at the base. The thought caused a stir in your stomach and it was enough to get you through the next few hours.
You said your good nights and walked back to your single tent with Farah in tow.
You chit chatted as you both stripped down to your under layers outside your tents. Even though the temperature dropped at night, inside the tent was insulated and the last few nights had been so warm you had slept with just the mesh panel.
“Was it you that ate the last of those biscuits Soap loves so much?” Farah laughed as she turned you around to braid your hair just like she had done the last few nights. You gave her a knowing smirk as you handed her the comb. She laughed shaking her head.
“Sooo you and Alex eh?”
Farah didn’t need to see your face she could hear the grin as clear as your words.
“Asimat!” She tugged the braid playfully. You held your head laughing.
“OK OK ‘ana asf!” You pleaded.
“Never mind that, what about you and the Captain eh? Ya ‘iilahi, I see the way he looks at you, like a starving man looks at a meal…”
“Farah! Asimat!” You could feel your face flushing.
She tied a bobble around the braid a cocky look on her face. You both eyed each other, before bursting out laughing the sound echoed across the campsite and off into the distance.
For a few minutes the two of you weren’t soldiers in the night, but just two girls braiding each others hair and laughing about boys at a sleepover.
***********
You lay in your tent listening to the sounds of the desert, the distance chirps and hoots.
Just as your mind was finally drifting off you felt the air shift, turning your head slowly you watched the zip of the tent door curl down to reveal the pitch black night, the warm breeze blowing in as a dark silhouette moved closer inside. You knew instantly who it was the air bringing in the smell of dampened fire and cigar smoke.
You blinked a few times trying to make out where the nighttime visitors face was.
“You awake kid?”
“Yeh…I’am now”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Don’t think you’ll fit”
“I will…move over”
“Move over where? It’s a 1 man tent”
“Good thing I’m just 1 man then eh?”
“….”
“Just move over” a growl more than a whisper now.
“Someone’s gonna see you, I thought you said we have to wait till we get back home? You fully lectured me about it?”
“I know what I said…just move over”
You did as you were told, moving on to your side allowing your Captain to slide in next to you. It was a tight fit as he zipped the panel shut behind him, you could feel the air trapped inside get heavy.
“Come ere” Price pulled you into him, you threw your leg over his waist.
“Oh I’ve missed this…can’t wait to get back to mine, don’t plan on letting you leave the bed let alone the bedroom” He let out a little chuckle as he kissed the top of your head.
“I know it’s not the same….but I’ve wanted to be close with you like this since we arrived Kid, it’s been driving me insane…”
“I’m more than happy with this, I’ve missed you too Boss”
You stretched your body out over his, your hands finding their place to settle.
He was in his joggers and a T-shirt, he must of walked the distance from his tent to yours in his socks you could feel the tiny grains of sand against your legs. You tried to pull them off his feet with your own.
“What are you doing? You’re not taking another pair of my socks!”
“No you’ve got sand on them, take them off”
You felt a little rumble of a laugh come from his chest.
“If you want me to take my kit off all you have to do is ask love”
“Shut up! You’ve got sand all in my sleeping bag take them off now!”
“Oh using your big girl voice are we? Hmm I like it” He pulled you on top of him your body sliding over him with ease, legs either side. You tried to sit up but your back was pressed back down by the roof of the tent.
“John what the…”
He cut you off his hands pulling you down into him, his mouth finding yours in the dark. His kiss was hungry and needy, it had been a few days since he’d been able to show any real affection towards you. You had made do with the odd pat on the shoulder, his hand lingering a minute longer than needed, standing just that little bit closer during briefs, his legs looped with yours in the back of cramped vans and trucks.
You allowed him to devour you in the darkness.
Lifting your hips slightly Price pushed his joggers down just enough to pull his cock out and rest it on your underwear. You instinctively rolled your hips back into him feeling the sturdiness of his erection as it pushed against you.
You felt his hand pull roughly at your underwear, he wanted them off but knew there wasn’t the room or the time so pulled to the side would have to do. His fingers brushed against your folds as he pull the fabric away. Without needing to be told you eased the tip of him inside you savouring the feeling as you pushed through, you could hear the little grunts of frustration and swore there was a whimper or two as you sank yourself down taking him down to the base. It was a snug fit.
“Fuckin ell” he whispered as you slowing rocked your hips back and forth your chest pressed to his. A pathetic whine left your own body. You desperately wanted to sit up, wanted to feel his hands roam up your body, to cup your breasts, you wanted to see his face, see the same desperation in his eyes, to watch as his teeth clenched and gritted together as you rode him, but there was no room for fancy moves or position changes, this was it packed in tight, close quarters.
You tucked yourself in under his chin your head slightly tilted, Price held you close to him as you slowly picked up the pace, his other hand firmly on your backside rocking you back and forth grinding your clit on his pubic bone.
The thought of being heard or even caught made you want to be that little bit louder, just a few feet away your entire squad slept it made your system flood with adrenaline.
As if he had read your mind, Price gripped your backside tighter. You let out a moan.
“Need you to stay quiet love, can’t have you waking the whole camp up now can we…what would they say if they caught us like this eh? I promise you can be as loud as you want when we get back home…” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to your forehead.
You couldn’t take it, you pushed yourself up rolling your hips faster and faster. The roof of the tent rubbing against your back.
The air inside the tent was heavy and damp with condensation, but you didn’t care your bodies were buzzing, you could feel it right there building inside of you both. Each craving for this closeness, this connection for days.
Price placed his hand on the side of your neck. He was close, but you were closer and he knew it your body gave you away.
“That’s it….cum for me love…aww…good girl…that’s its…” he gripped your neck that bit tighter your moans came out ragged and broken from trying to stay quiet, but even though you were coming undone you couldn’t stop your hips from rocking back and forth your body wanted more your insides pulsed and fluttered around him, begging to come again.
Price couldn’t hold out any longer and began desperately bucking his hips up into you, cursing between gritted teeth with each thrust. The sticky wet noises filling the tent, someone would definitely be able to hear, the rush of being caught surged through your body again making your hips match the speed of Price’s thrusts. This caused you both to fall apart very quickly. You buried your head in his neck to stifle your cries.
“Fuckkkkkk…” Prices groaned as he came inside you, his thrusts slowing as he became more sensitive.
You both lay there trying to catch your breath, your bodies pulsing as your heartbeats tried to regulate. Once the blood had stopped rushing in your ears you tried to listen for any movement outside the tent, hushed voices or footsteps, but all you could hear were the distant hoots and howls of the night.
“Think we’re good…” Price kissed your temple as he slowly unzipped one of the panels to let some air in.
*************
You woke up at 6:00 alone having no idea when Price had left you, but you felt his socks at the bottom of sleeping bag pulling them on you sorted yourself out and grabbed your toiletries bag, the makeshift showers weren’t too bad and you definitely needed one.
As you unzipped your tent you were met with the familiar sleepy faces of your squad. Soap half hanging out of his tent with a brew talking to Gaz, his Mohawk fluffy and sticking out in all directions. The pair of them clocked you and grinned. Your heart sunk. They had heard you last night, but before you could speak or plead your case Ghost and Price walked over to the huddle of tents.
“Morning kid…want a swig of this?” He handed you his cup of coffee you took it looking him dead in the eye.
“Can we have a word…in private?” You whispered. His face changed a serious look on his face. He nodded guiding you away from the others.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? I think Gaz and Soap heard us last night they were talking this morning and gave me this look…I don’t know but they know something” you held the cup of coffee tight.
Price smiled resting his hand on your shoulder he leant forward so he was eye level with you. You wanted to slap the beard right of his face.
“We weren’t the only ones at it last night kid, have you noticed anyone missing this morning?”
A wave of relief washed over you, thank god!
“So if it’s not us they heard who was it?….” It only took a spilt second to realise who was missing.
“oh my god….Farah and Alex!” You spilt half the coffee onto Prices boots as you whipped round to look back at the camp.
“Correct…and Soap said they were pretty loud so even if we had been heard everyone thinks it’s them” Price chuckled as he took back his coffee.
Just as you turned back to Price you heard cheering and whistles, Alex had crawled out of Farah’s tent, bed headed and shirtless a weak smile on his face. Soap slapped him on the back offering him a coffee, close behind Farah appeared looking more triumphant than anything as she light up a cigarette. She waved at you and the Captain.
“She’s ballsy that one” you smiled back at her as Price lifted his coffee mug up at her in salute.
***********
A few days later you get a text from Gaz
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avesque · 1 year
Note
can i please request a drabble with i pushed everyone away because they weren’t you + neteyam? thanks.
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of all the girls — neteyam
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INCLUDES best friends to lovers. angst to fluff. 0.7k words.
NOTE i need him so bad. you can request a prompt of your own here! (also the great war part i might come out this thursday/friday. i promise i see those asking to be tagged, i will not forget u here is a big kith mwa) OH AND HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY i love you!
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neteyam finds you all alone by the docks with your feet submerged in the water. it’s a quiet afternoon and the others are out and about with tsireya and other metkayina kids.
he finds his palms sweaty the second he settles beside you.
you don’t bother to look at him. it makes his heart squeeze painfully as your gaze stays fixed ahead, over the reefs and the horizon that he thinks you’ve mentally reached home.
you cut him off just as he’s about to break the quiet.
“why’d you leave?”
to others, it might sound nonchalant. but neteyam has known you for more than a decade; can read you like that back of his hand. there’s a bite to your tone that makes his heart climb up his throat.
you place your palms behind you and lean back but you do not look at him.
“you left,” he says. “i followed you.”
“no shit,” you scoff. it makes him wince. you always did hang a lot around lo’ak.
he swallows his nervousness.
“listen—”
you’re quick to rise to your feet. “well, i need to go.”
neteyam calls your name.
“i don’t want to hear it.” your tone is cold, biting. if he didn’t know better, he’d think you’re leaving behind snow rather than the sand you’re kicking off as you walk away hastily.
he follows you just as he has for the past twelve years. always behind you, always watching. waiting.
he snatches your arms once he’s caught up and something spears through his heart when he finds tears brimming in your lash line.
“no,” you seethe, wriggling free from his hold. “you leave me alone. go back to ayrona since you like her that much, huh?”
neteyam heaves a deep sigh, latching on to your arm again. gentler, this time. softer. consoling.
“no.”
you scoff again. the metkayina girl had shown interest in neteyam ever since you got here, always there, always lingering. it makes your skin itch, your blood boil. you’ve been watching them all this time, how she seems to enjoy those breathing lessons with neteyam. remembering it makes you want to scream.
but ayrona wasn’t the only one. back in the forest, before you had to flee, you heard other girls’ names tied with neteyam’s from hearsay. you did not have the heart to ask him about it, afraid that the confirmation will break your heart more.
ayrona is just the final straw.
but this is wrong. the lone tear that cascades down your cheek is a burning shame. neteyam is not yours.
at times, you feel like you may stand a chance, against all these other girls and against all odds. you’ve been toeing that line between friends and something more, touches lingering more than they should have, gazes softer and sweeter than most. but nothing has come of it.
you fear what you thought could have been was just a miscalculation on your part.
neteyam holds your cheek so delicately, thumbing away the salt on your cheek.
“oh, y/n.” his voice is honey; says your name like a prayer. you close your eyes, clumped eyelashes still spilling tears. “ayrona—” your stomach plummets, “—is a friend. just like tsireya.”
you sniffle, shaking your head and leaning away from his hold. but neteyam is quick, placing his other hand on your chest, right where your heart is.
“you,” he breathes, “are so much more.”
he rests his forehead on yours and he pulls you close.
“do you want to know why i told rey’nin to stop?”
rey’nin was the omatikaya girl who, despite the people’s disapproving stares, had pursued him.
“the others too,” he adds and proceeds to enumerate the girls who have shown interest in him. something warm lands on your cheek and you belatedly realize neteyam has placed a kiss there before he’s pulling away.
nimble fingers glide over your eyelids and your eyes flutter open to see gold staring right back.
“i pushed everyone away because they weren’t you.” he says your name again, this time, like a promise. “you are the only one my heart beats for. i see you. i always have.”
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Note
HIII ITS ME AGAIN, i’ve got another idea for you, that you make a little drabble about.
so the time line is like before the yan!beasts got corrupted, or like post-corruption or something, reader is a very overpowered cookie but timid and shy in a way, including considerate and kind, they wants to help people they genuinely loves and cares about (including the beasts), therefore this also makes them a people pleaser/push over, so they keep theyre power secretive
after a while, reader started to see a shift in theyre personality and how they started to resent cookies that didn’t have the same power as themselves, and how they are being kinda possessive/obsessive towards reader, and more really unhealthy behaviors, but of course, like the fool they are, reader decided to ignore those red flags, cause it’s better then having literal no one (said by reader)
anyways when days pass, more things start to change, they start becoming more malicious towards other common cookies, how they cause more chaos and other stuff, of course reader is a bit too delusional to care… till the witches/creators came, saying they need to trap them for good, of course you retaliated (verbally), saying how you care for them and other stuff, and you won’t go through with this, and they tell reader something that will really open theyre eyes to the world, pointing out the actions the beasts do and how shitty and bad they are (including some things they say, how they treat reader etc) how bad their intentions truly are, after this reader was really upset about them, they might be delusional but not THAT delusional, so i think you can vison what happened next now, they advise a plan to get them in a place where the witches can trap them, using reader as a bait, then once it’s done, reader left, no matter how many pleads or yells the beasts through at them, reader didn’t turn back, not even to glance at the prison that they brought themselves upon, as reader walked off, they made a vow to themself, a promise to never be fooled and manipulated like that again, to never pretend to be something they aren’t, after that, they became a whole entire different cookie (woahhh character development, anyway imagine them having a more bayonetta like personality/mindset and strength and speed?) maybe a little crossing of paths once the beasts get out of prison
(also i recently just learnt I HAVE MY OWN TAG? idk why it just made me feel special)
You have?? Such?? Good ideas?? Never stop sending in requests, I love all the ideas you always come up with!!
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You were a cold Cookie, with no one really knowing why. You hardly trusted and tended to be very suspicious of Cookies of power. To say it took you ages to even think of trusting the Ancients wa an understatement.
You were heavily against the idea of going to Beast-Yeast, yet you eventually relented. Not for yourself, but to make sure that none of them got manipulated like you did.
You were completely ready to throw hands when the Beasts showed up. To stay you were pissed was an understatement. Somehow, they were convinced they were the victims! Because their fun was cut short!
Shadow Milk Cookie is the biggest instigator. He still thinks you're a pushover and portrays you as such, only to be completely confused when he sees you decimate that animatronic. That was.. a change in the script he didn't expect.
Burning Spice Cookie and Silent Salt Cookie are both taken aback by how ready you were to fight them. Guess that shy part of you was gone!
Eternal Sugar Cookie used to lovebomb you a lot whenever you were still shy. She's surprised to see it no longer works, but doesn't mean she still won't try!
Mystic Flour Cookie is the only one who realizes that you're no longer the same pushover. However, it doesn't mean she won't try and use you for her own benefit again.
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piichuu · 5 months
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♡ CAT CUDDLES - CHIFUYU MATSUNO
WARNINGS: fluff, gn!reader
WORD COUNT: 752
DECEMBER DRABBLES
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something that doesn’t come as a surprise to you is when chifuyu matsuno brings a cat home after he’s found it out on the street.
it’s pouring rain when he enters your home with a black cat in his arms. it seems surprisingly comfortable in his embrace as he’s quick to go grab a towel to dry it. “i found it out on the street, i couldn’t just leave it there when it’s raining so much,” your boyfriend explains.
he has never brought a cat home before, knowing that none of you have the time to take care of a whole pet, but he knows that he’ll need to make time for this one, because his heart could never take leaving it outside for just anyone to take. he knew it would have a better home with the two of you.
“i know we don’t have a lot of things for it, i’ll run and buy some things for it after giving it some food. i think we should have some in the kitchen,” chifuyu explains.
he already has cat food in a cupboard that he feeds stray cats, one of many reasons as to why they keep showing up by your place, wanting more. so the fact that he already has some makes this all much easier.
you walk into the kitchen and grab a bowl as well as the cat food, placing it by the hallway so chifuyu can put the cat down onto the floor and allow it to eat. it seems rather comfortable even though it’s still wet from the rain and has probably been outside without much food for days.
“i’m sorry for just taking it in, but i really couldn’t leave it outside,” he sighs, leaning against the wall as he watches the small cat eating. you flash him a soft smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “it’s okay, i knew it would happen one day or another. but i can go buy some things for it if you want, i think you’ll be better looking after it.”
chifuyu reflects your smile and places a kiss to your cheek. “if that’s okay with you. i can write you a list for what we’ll need,” you nod and follow him into the living room where your phone is resting on the tv table.
your boyfriend writes a few things down in the notes app and then hands you the phone back. “call me if you need help with anything. we’ll wait with buying a cat tree for a day or two because there won’t be enough space if we put it in the car today,” he kisses your cheek and strokes your hair.
chifuyu follows you into the hallway as the black cat is still busy eating as if it’s been days since it last did. “you’re taking the car, right? it’ll be too many things to carry,” he asks. “of course, and i’ll call you if i need help, i promise.”
the rain is still pouring down when you reach the pet store and thanks to chifuyu’s shopping list, it doesn’t take too long to buy everything you need for the time being. a couple of toys to keep it occupied, more cat food, a bowl for the food as well as a bowl for water, a litter box, sand for the litter box and even more toys.
after only half an hour, you’re back home in your shared apartment only to be met by the sight of chifuyu holding the small cat in his embrace on the couch. it is wrapped in a towel to help it dry from the rain and has its eyes closed as it’s relaxing in his hold.
your boyfriend looks up towards you and gives you a gentle smile, motioning for you to come over and of course, you do just that. dropping the bags of things for the cat on the floor and walking into the living room, laying down on the couch beside him and the cat.
“did everything go well?” chifuyu asks and you give him a nod, petting the cat in his arms. “it went well. the cat seems to have become comfortable with you very quickly.”
he smiles and strokes its head while it purrs. “it’s very friendly which is surprising since it doesn’t seem to have lived a very good life, but we’ll make sure it has the best life,” he kisses your forehead and sighs contently. “it’ll be our own little child.”
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TAG LIST: @h4nman @thisbicc @shokkou @awkwardaardvarkforever @chilichopsticks @cjm-cookiethief @isagikisser @twinkle-tw1nkle @gunslxtz @asp7n @reiners-milkbiddies @nishii28 @nda-approval
if you want to join the tag list, fill out this form <333
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moralesmilesanhour · 9 months
Text
Masterlist!
I can't promise that every fic I've ever written will be listed here, but I've put drabbles/one-shots here as well as any series I have done or that are currently on-going for navigation purposes. All of my fics including requests are also tagged here!
Miles Morales (Earth-1610):
Dance With Me
Track Meet pt. 1
Track Meet pt. 2
Fresh Cut
School Days
Sunflower
Pass a Good Time pt. 1
Pass a Good Time pt. 2
Pass a Good Time pt. 3
Sometimes
How Long
Cold Turkey
☆ミ and the re-write!
Choir Boy
Miles Morales 1610 Headcanons
Dating Headcanons!
Boxes
Rodeo
lil' baby crush
mad props! (HIATUS)
Miles Morales (Earth-42):
Earth-42 Miles Character Study
Miles G Headcanons 1
Miles G Headcanons 2
Miles G Headcanons 3
Teamwork (makes the dream work...?) (a.k.a 'TWMTDW'):
pt. 1
pt. 2
pt. 2.5
pt. 3
Miles POV (optional read)
pt. 4
pt. 5
epilogue
Miles G's Night Routine (Warm-Up Drabble)
if you believe in me (TWMTDW sequel) (HIATUS)
Piece of Cake
BOFFUM:
arachnophobia
seeing double
Gwen Stacy:
Spring Fling
Pavitr Prabhakar:
First Day
Hobie Brown:
Pretty
"I was briefly a runway model."
Garden
my neighbor's a punk
Margo Kess
flowerbyte drabble
margo dating hcs
margo general headcanons
what you're searching for
...phew! I think that's everything (excluding requests), for now. I tried my best to list the fics in somewhat-chronological order. Happy reading!
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i984 · 1 year
Text
Dreams of Lavender Confessions
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|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader
|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, post-Nevermore Academy Wednesday Addams, established relationship, cuddling on a couch, 'I love you's are uttered, jaw kissing, Wednesday Addams is whipped for you, forehead kissing, falling asleep together.
|Summary|: Through the years, Wednesday has loved you the same way; tonight is just a ritual.
|A/n|: This was requested by @tundra1029 and it turned out more like a drabble, but I hope it brings your beautiful request justice.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Cozy.
It's one word to describe the evening.
There's a pleasure in sinking from the puffiness of your couch. The string that pulled relentlessly on your back all day loosens; popping joints can be heard in the quiet room.
Toes freezing and eyelids drooping, you mindlessly scroll through your phone. Wednesday sits rigidly at the other end of the sofa, your body taking up most of the space. Her presence, though ghostly silent, soothes you in a way warm baths would never dream of rivaling.
It was one of those nights; when content soaks your body in a lavender haze, not a care for the buzzing world.
You spare a glance at the girl, catching her with a look you've grown to memorize over the years.
It was the one she had the first time you confessed to her, your second year at Nevermore Academy. The one she had when you kissed her knuckles tenderly while a slow melody sways both your bodies at the Rave'N Dance. It was the gaze she held when you were both leaning on her balcony railing; the sky was a sea of stars, but she was looking at you.
It was the smile she had when you took her out for dinner, and the bouquet of flowers you gave her earlier for graduation sits on the restaurant's table. It was also the face she made when you lay on your shared apartment floor for the first time, her figure somewhat leaning on the door frame, unpacked boxes still scattered across the space.
And she's looking at you exactly like that right now; through all those years together, yet her soft eyes haven't dared to change. It's a hushed secret between two perfect halves, an eternal promise sealed with a courteous nod or a searing kiss.
She's what fills you to the brim with bliss, your arms now stretching out, beckoning her to meet your body in a tight embrace.
Wednesday moves and lays her weight on top of you, her warm hands resting on your sides. Her scent invades you, and if you close your eyes, you can make out the image of a wet forest—vividian pictures painted with amber, myrrh, and wormwood.
Her face came close to yours, soft breaths fanning down your neck. There's a beat where she lingers, eyes dazed—before she finally leans down and lets her lips press a delicate kiss against your jaw.
"I love you," Wednesday breathes out as she pulls back, admiring her reflection in your glowing eyes. She rests her head on your chest—the slow rhythmic drums calming her own fluttering one—feeling your hand tracing the nooks of her loose braid. You giggle as you wrap your arms around her petite figure, head moving to whisper in her ear.
"I love you, too." Your fingers brush her bangs, parting them slightly, mouth leaving a chaste kiss on the exposed skin.
Leaving a sigh into the room, you look up at the ceiling while your hands pat her head gently. The coziness sang you a lullaby, and your eyelids slowly drooped, taking the devoted lovers to a land of saccharine dreams.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
|A/n2|: I think I quite like how this turned out. Thank you for requesting and reading! Also, if anybody wants to be in my tag list, please interact with this post accordingly :)
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melodygatesauthor · 1 year
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Hii!! Happy early birthday <3 I hope im not too late. Its still march 12th on my side lol
Could i please request an f reader with steven grant and the prompt “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”
A Big Mistake
Steven Grant X f!Reader
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Hi Nonnie! Idk why but I pictured brat tamer! Steven when I came up with this drabble. I hope you liked it!
Tags/Warnings: NSFW, brat tamer Steven, orgasm delay, cock warming, creampie, p in v, meanie Steven.
Word Count: 659
It was clear now that you’d made a huge mistake in underestimating sweet little Steven’s knack for brat taming. When you mocked him after a hard day at work, and he told you to watch your tone (in a not so playful way), you didn’t think the eye roll that followed would land you in the position you found yourself in shortly after.
Steven was sitting at the foot of the bed, with you sheathing his erection deep in your slick channel, back leaning against his heaving chest, completely dependent on him for any small bit of friction. Your legs were hanging on either side of his thighs, unable to reach the ground. If he didn’t thrust into you, then you weren’t going to get any of the stimulation that you so desperately craved.
He had one large hand around your delicate throat, and the other was between your legs, two thick fingers just barely brushing against your sensitive clit.
“Steven, please.” You begged with a needy whine to follow, “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, love, it's only been a minute. I need to make sure you learned your lesson, yeah?” He was breathing heavily in your ear.
You nodded, “yeah, yes.”
You sounded so pathetic, not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting Steven to believe that you were sincerely apologetic for the way you mocked and sassed him earlier. You were so wet. Your entire body was sensitive under his touch, all you needed was for him to move…even just a little.
“Good, that’s real good darling.” He hummed while his cock pulsated softly inside of you. “You really think you’re something don’t you? Rolling your eyes at me like that.”
“It was dumb. Mm, shouldn’t have done that to you, I’m so sorry.” You shifted your hips, he gripped you tighter.
Even just that little bit felt so fucking good. You whimpered, feeling so helpless and aching with your dripping arousal. Everything underneath you was so slick. You were shocked he didn’t just slide out.
“That’s enough, I told you to stay still. I can get myself off just thinking about you…” his cock throbbed as though to prove his point, “if you want to be rewarded you’d better behave, right?” You’d never heard Steven’s tone so dark.
“Y-yes.”
“Right, I know you can be good f’me.”
Steven let out a moaning growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. He moved his fingers around your clit, not enough to achieve your release, but enough to make your desire grow. You let out a groan, one that compelled Steven to kiss the soft skin of your neck. You felt his cock twitch inside of you.
“Not gonna have you actin’ like that anymore, like a little brat. I put up with enough shit at work, not gonna have you doing it too yeah?”
You gasped as he started moving faster, “yeah, yes anything you want Steven I’ll do it I promise. I’ll be good.”
“Thought so.” He started churning his hips, the head of his cock rubbed against a spot deep inside you that brought you to the brink within seconds. “You’re lucky it was me you did that to, Jake and Marc wouldn’t have been so forgiving love.”
“Thank you, baby, thank you so much.” You were almost in tears. It felt so good.
“Next time I won’t be so nice, go ahead and let go for me, wanna feel it.” His cock hardened and stilled while he started painting your walls white.
Steven’s moan was rough against your ear. That’s all you needed to reach your own orgasm. Between his dexterous fingers working over your clit, and his thick cock sliding upward into you, you were trembling over him, cunt crashing around his girth in waves. He kissed and licked your neck while you nearly screamed from the sensations coursing through you.
You’d do your best not to upset Steven ever again.
Moon Knight Masterlist
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cheolism · 1 year
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towards the sun
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✧ choi seungcheol x reader
✧ summary: sometimes you wonder if seungcheol will one day regret being tied to you.
✧ wc is approx 2k
✧ warnings/tags: angst and comfort, insecurities. mentions of depression, anxiety. seungcheol talking abt his own struggles with depression. quiet anger, crying. seungcheol loves you sm and spoils you accordingly. childhood sweethearts, promise rings. you two worship each other <3 tons of metaphors.
✧ request: if you have the time can i please request for an argument drabble with cheolli? please make it angst with a fluffy fluff ending:))))))
✧ i hope you like this, anon!!! i couldn't fit in fluff at the end, but it's comfort and sweet. i know you asked for a drabble, but it sort of?? ran away from me?? i hope you enjoy nonetheless!!! <3
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All night you had sat near the wall, watching your boyfriend socialize. Seungcheol was constantly moving, face bright as he talked to longtime friends and new ones, family members hugging him and congratulating him. 
 You drank your water steadily, trying to get that bitter taste out of your mouth. It had persisted ever since Seungcheol came home, brilliant and bright and shining. He was like a light amongst the crowd, a star amongst the ordinary. 
And you were part of that ordinary. 
He had risen so high. Seungcheol had flown towards the sun, fearless and accomplished. He hadn’t meant to leave you, hadn’t meant to leave you on the ground, but that’s where you stood; watching him fly away, stranded. 
When Seungcheol finally returned to your side, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into him, despite all the thoughts that poisoned your mind and heart. He wrapped an arm around you, pressing you to his side. He was warm, as Seungcheol always was, warm from the heat of the sun and the satisfaction of flying so close to it. 
“I’m thinking we should head out,” he murmured, voice deep in your ear. He brought his other hand, the one not hugging your waist, up and brushed your hair from your face. Seungcheol’s eyes were sweet as they looked at you, soft with his adoration of you. “Don’t you think so, baby? It’s getting late.”
“Don’t you want to talk a bit more?” You asked, glancing about the room. People were still arriving, taking off their coats and scarves, cheeks aglow with the bite of winter. “You haven’t seen some of these people in forever.”
Seungcheol shrugged, humming as his finger traced the curve of your cheek. “I’ve always thought that if someone really wants to see you, they’d make an effort. You know more than half of these people don’t really care about me.”
You frowned at him, hating the thought. You found it hard for anyone to not care about him, not when his heart was so large and welcoming, when he was Choi Seungcheol. You loved him with every fiber of your being, loved him even when he flew to the sun and your feet remained on the ground, so how was it anyone had the ability to feel otherwise about him? 
Seungcheol laughed softly at your incredulous look. “Come on, baby. Let’s get some soju from the convenience store, some ramen. We can drive out of Seoul, look at the stars.”
Leaving the event was tricky. Even as he was helping you into your coat, even as he slid your fingers into your gloves and made sure they weren’t bunched awkwardly, people were stopping him. They glowed just from speaking to him, as if his stardom was enough to ignite them. 
Eventually the two of you made it out to the car, a sleek black thing that Seungcheol treasured. He tried not to be materialistic, not when the two of you came from families where your parents left you with your grandparents, heading off for long work days, each blinding into the one before it. But he couldn’t help himself. Sleek cars, branded clothes for the both of you, a promise ring, rosegold band lined with small peridots on your finger; a matching watch band for him, your birthstones surrounding the watch face. 
The car came alive with a smooth, deep hum. You couldn’t look at Seungcheol, staring down at your ring. 
Seungcheol was a man far above you in all aspects of the word. Once the two of you had stood side by side on the ground, your childhoods spent running from one house to the next, your grandmothers wearing matching, knowing smiles. But then he had left for the city, his dreams so big and bright, promises to return heavy on his tongue and weighing down on your heart. 
And he had returned for you. You had waited for him, both feet on even ground, but now you couldn’t help but think. 
Did you belong? Did you belong in this sleek black car with your ordinary desk job? Did you belong on his arm, when he shined so brightly and you blended amongst the crowd? 
Seungcheol pulled onto the interstate, fingers drumming on the wheel. Once he got into a comfortable pace, he removed one of his hands and moved it to your thigh. He grabbed your hand, thumb running over the ring absentmindedly. 
His nails were so perfect, you thought. Clean and manicured, trimmed. Your own were uneven, chewed with specks of dirt underneath them. 
You moved your hand from his, clenching your hands together. You shifted back in the seat. 
“Baby?” Seungcheol asked, glancing over at you. “What’s wrong? You tired?”
“It’s --” You sighed, looking out the window. Darkness had long descended on the city, traffic on the highway loose. “It’s nothing.”
There was a temporary silence. “I don’t think it’s nothing. Come on, baby.”
“Do you think we’re right for each other?”
As soon as it left your mouth, you regretted it. You wanted to reach out and grab the words from the air, throw them out the window. They felt so wrong. They felt wrong once you said them, real and tangible. They weren't just your silly thoughts anymore. 
He was quiet beside you. But you weren’t foolish enough to think that he had forgotten about it, that he was ignoring it. That wasn’t who Seungcheol was. 
“I want you to say that again,” he said, voice heavy. “Say that again.”
You felt like crying. How horrible you were. Seungcheol had a wonderful day, surrounded by people who loved and adored him, and here you were. Ruining it with your venomous words. 
“I just --” You broke off, throat thickening with the weight of your words. “Won’t you regret this?”
He was quiet again, though this time it was a baffled, agitated sort of silence. A car roared past you. He tapped his finger against the wheel. “Since you seem so knowing on the subject,” Seungcheol began, his voice tense, “why don’t you enlighten me further on my regrets.”
You took a deep, shuddering breath. The stars were completely hidden by the city. Your tears rose up, stinging at the corner of your eyes. “It’s just. We’re so different.”
“We’ve always been different. I don’t see why it matters now.”
You sniffled, ashamed of yourself for causing his voice to harden like that. Seungcheol didn’t yell at you, not after witnessing you flinch back from him once as teenagers. Still, the hardness in his voice, the absolute void of any affection and emotion, made you feel as if you had been yelled at. 
Disappointment, you found, was just as bad as anger. 
“We were kids,” you said.
“Oh, so now that we’re grown it suddenly matters? What the fuck, Y/n. What the fuck is this? What are you trying to say? That these past years haven’t mattered? That we don’t matter? That I don’t matter?”
“No,” you began feebly. “I just --”
Seungcheol interrupted, his red-hot anger slowly beginning to bubble up and out of his mouth. “This is so -- what? You’ve suddenly decided that we’ve wasted the past twenty-five fucking years of our lives? That suddenly because we’re grown that it makes everything fucking invalid?”
“Seungcheol,” you whispered, speechless. 
“I’m so fucking mad at you.” Seungcheol announced. He glanced behind him before turning on the turning signal. Seungcheol merged off of the highway, onto an exit. “I can’t fucking. So everything you’ve ever said to me doesn’t matter?”
Finally a sob, loud and ugly, erupted from you. You pressed your hands up to your face, obscuring it from him. You were shaking. Your heart was bleeding, it felt like. “I love you,” you sobbed, “I just don’t know what to do when you’ll stop loving me.”
He was quiet, the car following a curve off the exit. When the car straightened out, his hand appeared on your thigh. Seungcheol squeezed it once before moving his hand again, grabbing your arm. His hand slid up your arm, wrapping around your wrist. Seungcheol moved your hand from your face, sliding to hold onto your fingers, ignoring the wetness from your tears. 
“You can’t,” he began, voice thick with emotion. “You can’t decide that for me. You can’t suddenly decide that I’ll stop loving you. That’s not -- Baby, that’s so unfair.”
You sobbed again, nodding against your hand. He pulled into a gas station, putting the car in park. Seungcheol undid his belt, turning to you. He reached out, taking both of your hands. “I want you to tell me what’s going on, baby. Give it to me straight.”
You sniffled. You reached up, removing your hand from his to rub at your nose. Seungcheol tsked at you, reaching into the glovebox and removing a tissue. He gently pressed it against your nose, wiping. 
“Come on, baby.” He muttered. His eyes were so wide, shining with unshed tears. “Let me see what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
You took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s just -- Seungcheol -- you’re so amazing.”
He blinked, not quite following. 
“You -- you make more money in a month than I do in a year,” you went on, refusing to look at him. “Everyone knows your name. You’re -- you’re amazing and brilliant and famous, and I’m so ordinary and dull and work at a desk.”
Seungcheol let out a loud sigh, one of his hands moving to brush at your cheek and remove some of the tears there. “You know how stupid that sounds?”
“I know!” You sobbed, nodding. “It’s so fucking stupid but I can’t stop thinking about it. Seungcheol --”
He leaned fully over the center console, as close as he could get to you. He wound one arm around your shoulders, bringing you into him. “Baby. You are the most beautiful, brilliant, spectacular, amazing, perfect person in the world.”
You shook your head against him, but he sank one hand into your hair and stopped you. “Listen to me, Y/n. You are. You are so perfect. Do you remember the last tour? I couldn’t even make it through Japan. And I was so, so angry. Angry at myself, angry at my brain. But you weren’t. You just held me, loved me. Even though I felt so fucking ugly, you loved me like I was someone worthwhile. And baby --” 
He pulled away, his fingers swiping at the tears beneath your eyes. “I’m telling you right now. You’re fucking worth it. You’re perfect, and beautiful inside and out, and even if you weren’t you still would be because you’re mine. You’ve been mine since we were five and scaring my big brother with worms. You were mine when I left for Pledis. You were mine when you began college, when I came home from that tour. 
“You were mine, just like I’m yours. You’re still mine, I’m still yours. I will never, ever, regret this. I will never regret you.” He sniffled, and when you met his eyes they were slightly red. He was such an ugly crier, you thought, but still you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful person in the world. “Every single fucking day I wake up and think of how blessed I am to have you by my side. Whether you work in a desk or fucking -- if you decide to be a damn professional table tennis player. You’re mine, and I’m keeping you.”
You nodded, sniffling once more. “I’m sorry, Cheol.”
He shook his head. Seungcheol pitched forward, pressing his mouth to your hairline. “Don’t be, baby. Just promise me the next time you start thinking like that, you’ll tell me.”
“Cheol --” 
“I know,” he interrupted, though not unkindly. “I know how hard it is. But you’re mine, and you know how I like to take care what’s mine. I can’t do that if you’re not telling me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.”
You swallowed, a deep sigh leaving you. “I love you, Seungcheol.”
“I love you,” he returned, as easily as breathing. "Now let's go get some drinks, some ramen, and then we'll go home and cuddle in bed. Okay?"
You pressed a kiss to his chin, breathing in the smell of his expensive perfume and aftershave. "Okay."
Seungcheol might have flown to the sun, might glow and shine like a star; you might be standing with both feet firmly on the ground, squinting against the sun, watching as he took off. But the thing was, you would come to realize, that no matter how far Seungcheol flew, no matter how close to the sun he got, he would always come back to you.
Always.
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the-traveling-poet · 6 months
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Just sitting here thinking about tipsy! Levi. Inspired by this lovely post I came across~
The war had ended a year previously, leaving millions to pick themselves back up from the carnage and reconstruct new lives for themselves amidst the construction of the new world, as the press was calling it.
This led you to a life of, considering your past, ease. You’d moved in with Levi, accompanying him on his self-healing journey and to open his very own tea shop here in Marley; your new home.
Though he preferred black tea, (or green tea, as he’d learn to love after discovering it, thanks to Falco and Gabi once he’s settled in your new home) you’d convinced him to develop a taste for fine Marleian wine.
So here you both sat, enjoying a bottle or three between the both of you. You legs stretched out before you on the grassy embankment you had chosen for your little picnic with your former Captain. Resting your back against the maple tree behind you, you chanced a glance at the weathered veteran at your side. He lifted his glass to his lips and took a long sip, his eyes closed in complete bliss.
The look suited him; a man who’d known nothing but hardship all his life, finally able to relax and unwind.
Suddenly, he caught your eye and smiled. Actually smiled.
“What’s on your mind, Levi?” you’d asked him softly, raising your own glass to your lips.
“You.”
Taken aback, you averted your gaze back to his sacred face and raised a brow, setting your glass down at your hip.
“Me?” you nearly whispered.
“Mhm,” he nodded. “After everything…You’re still here. With me. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my new life. I’m glad you came with me…Work at the cafè with me. Live with me…Stay with me.”
He suddenly grinned, something you’d never seen him do before. The sight caused a hundred butterflies to erupt in your gut. Wether it was the bottle of wine he’d downed all on his own, or his emotions causing this sudden speech, you weren’t sure. But you’d be damned if you questioned it even for a moment.
“I want every day to be like this…With you.” He whispered, leaning in slowly to seal his words, his promise, with a feather light kiss to your lips.
The taste of wine on his own lips and tongue was hardly enough to deter you from responding immediately, enveloping him in all of your love.
“I’m not going anywhere Levi. Not now, not ever.”
Tag list: @21aurora
If you want on the tag list for drabbles headcannons and one-shots, just DM me~
And don’t worry, I’m still working on the requests in my inbox 🤎🤎
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jnnul · 9 months
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a phone that won’t ring
a/n: third time’s the charm? if this doesn’t post this time, u heard it here first: tumblr is homophobic 😤
word count: 1k
type: drabble/short story
tags: fluff, angst, i keep pretending like i know what it’s like to be an idol, they love each other so much but time is their biggest enemy fr fr
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gif credits: @jigujellee​
it’s hard dating kim minji. it was like one day, she was just your girlfriend. the girl who would hold your hand and swing it a little too hard on walks by the han river until both of you lose your balance. the girl who would wrap you with her sweater because she had a possessive streak and she liked you wearing her clothing. the girl who would kiss you senseless when she had to leave for practice even though she promised to call you when she got back to the dorms.
and then the next, she was the unofficial leader of k-pop’s arguably hottest girl group.
soon, the girl who would turn on the strangest filters when she video called you to make you laugh turned into the girl who would organize her members together as they interacted with millions of fans all across the world.
minji always tries her best to make sure you don’t feel like you’ve fallen behind. she talks about you to her members. she mentions that a ‘friend’ bought her the beautiful necklace that a fan comments on when she’s on vlive. she always wears that necklace - no matter where she is. in every single of the thousands of pictures of minji at the airport, she’s wearing that necklace.
to the extent that people began spreading rumors that jungwon of enhypen and minji of newjeans were dating and that was their couple necklace. minji had laughed about it when she called you when those rumors first came out.
“i don’t think i’ve ever even been within ten feet of jungwon. people will say anything if you’re the same age as someone else. or honestly, if they just think you’re shippable with them. how ridiculous is that,” minji snorts as she fingers the sapphire necklace thoughtlessly.
you try to laugh, nodding as your mind wanders. “yeah. so ridiculous.”
that night, you spent a good three hours searching up jungwon and fall down a rabbit hole of jungwon x minji ships on tiktok. you try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach when you realize just how well jungwon and minji match each other.
leaders. thoughtful. kind. so incredibly beautiful.
you weren’t bad looking - you knew that. and you knew that minji loved every single part of you, no matter how much you got in your head about it. but it was different for her. she didn’t even think about things that deep.
“have you ever noticed how uneven my eyes are? it’s like they’re on separate floors on my face,” you said one day, as minji’s not on camera for a second because she’s washing her face after practice. minji ducks into frame, white foam still on her face from her cleanser as she looks at you incredulously.
“y/n, i don’t think so at all. honestly, i don’t even know what you’re talking about; your eyes look fine to me,” she says, before ducking out of frame once more to wash the rest of the foam off of her face. minji can still see that you’re not completely comforted yet and she holds up her phone at an incriminating angle, as though she was scrutinizing your face.
“y/n, i literally see the most beautiful pair of eyes that could ever exist. you’re too hard on yourself. i promise no one sees what you think that they do. all they see is how kind you are and how genuine you are,” minji says and she can see the small smile that you’re trying to fight away and she considers her girlfriend duties to be fulfilled. for the moment, at least.
but that was a year ago, before newjeans was formed and before you started seeing minji’s face more often on billboards than in the comfort of her arms on a quiet date in your apartment.
now, when you get insecure about the tiny little things you don’t like about yourself, you stare longingly at the phone that you’re waiting for to ring, hoping that your girlfriend will call and wash all your insecurities away.
she tries her best - she really does. minji calls you whenever she can, even if she has to call you at 3 in the morning in america so she can catch you before you head to class. she’ll send presents to your door instead of actually showing up because she doesn’t want to compromise your safety.
and she will never take off that necklace. that beautiful sapphire necklace that you gifted her on her 16th birthday, with your first paycheck. the one that has your initials carved into it on a tiny little dog tag that falls down her back.
but it feels a little colder in your apartment meant for love when minji isn’t there to shelter you in her arms and cover your eyes during scary movies. you can’t help but checking her location (which she had shared with you soon after she debuted) to see when she would get home. more often than not, you would fitfully fall asleep before you could see her arrive at home. and you watch a phone that won’t ring until ungodly hours.
when she does call, minji tries to be as lively and attentive as she was before she was being flown out to a different country almost everyday. but you can see the eye bags that give away just how hard she truly is working. and you force yourself to tell her goodbye before you really want to because you want her to get at least a couple hours of precious rest that she doesn’t get too often.
it’s all worth it, you try to tell yourself. when minji finally gets a couple hours where she isn’t forced to be doing something, and she manages to bundle herself up and sneak into your apartment, it is worth. even when she gets a call from her manager that she has to be at the hybe building within the next hour, while she can hold you, it’s worth it.
dating kim minji is hard. but it’s all worth it in the end. it has to be.
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lotusbxtch · 27 days
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and I lost you [TS drabble challenge]
Here's my entry into @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! I got Maroon and Joel. Get ready for Angst City®️! (Divider by @saradika-graphics)
Song: Maroon (Midnights) Pedro boy: Joel Miller
Pairing: Joel Miller x ex!afab!Reader (written in Joel's POV) Word Count: 686 Warnings/tags: post-outbreak, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol consumption, infidelity, aaaaangst, heavy reference to Taylor Swift lyrics, not beta'd
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Joel lay awake in his bed, shifting his position for the umpteenth time while his memories play over and over in his head. No matter how he wraps his flannel sheets around himself, the bed is never as warm as it is when you were in it with him. But that’s all gone to shit now that he’s lost you.
He knows he’s made a fool of himself. Knows that he’s failed you. You - beautiful, charming, the only one to slip past his defenses, the walls he put up around himself to keep out everything, even the good. He let you into his home and his heart, let you fill it with laughter. He remembers how you told him stories about your college days before the outbreak, about your vinyl shelf full of records, of nights where you woke up on the floor in the late morning after too much cheap rose wine. He told you stories about Sarah, whom he never talked about to anyone besides you and Tommy. Her prowess at soccer, how she would help out their elderly neighbors, the watch she got fixed for him for his birthday - the day before his world ended. He felt safe with you, and you with him. You chose him, and he chose you.
He doesn’t know when it started. But you’d been frustrated with Tommy’s reliance on Joel for border patrol; you felt that he was putting himself in unnecessary amounts of danger. Arguments started cropping up, and more than once you’d left the house to stay at Tommy and Maria’s after particularly bad fights. On more than one of those occasions, he’d trudged to the Tipsy Bison to drown his sorrows and avoid his feelings. And on one of those nights, he let temptation win out.
She was one of Maria’s friends, older than you were, closer to Joel’s age. She’d always blatantly flirted with him, despite him mentioning you and everyone knowing you and Joel were together. She was one of those women who liked challenges, who wanted to play games. She didn’t like that Joel resisted all of her advances, so she waited until he was at his weakest to pounce. Too many whiskeys in, Joel had let her drag him behind the bar. Had let her kiss him, his lips barely moving back against hers in response. She promised she could make him feel better than you did, that he didn’t need a girl like you, he needed a woman - despite you being more of a woman than she could even dream of. He didn’t stop her when she kissed down his neck, when she left marks along his collarbone - ones he knew you’d notice. He was just so mad at you for being right about the patrol shifts, but he felt guilty saying no to Tommy after all this time apart from him. His awful defense mechanisms figured that if you had left the house, it meant you didn’t want him or need him, and he wanted to forget.
But he was so wrong. When he stumbled back to the house, he didn’t expect you to be there. Didn’t think you’d be sipping red wine at the counter, waiting for him. So when he entered the living room, his button-up disheveled, the darkening hickey across his collarbone clear as day, you looked shell-shocked, then distraught, then more angry than you’d ever been before. You took the glass you’d been drinking out of and flung the contents at him, the burgundy splashing onto his t-shirt and face. You said nothing as you stormed out of the house, but right before you slammed the door, he heard the most heart-wrenching sob begin to wrack your chest as you held your head in your hands. 
He felt like his heart had been strangled, but he knew everything was his fault. He deserved the full weight of the hurt he made you endure. Laying awake with your memory over him, he realized what a real fucking legacy his betrayal was to leave to you, the one he chose, the one who had chosen him.
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