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kooksbunnnn · 2 months

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Fuck around and..? JHS

Summary: Being neglected can bring out the brat inside you, little do you know that he loves to be the brat tamer.

Warnings: dom!hoseok × brat!reader. MATURE. 18+ Overstimulation? Edging? It's a mixture. Vibrator. Fingering. Unprotected sex(it's a no-no in reality). Reader cries and begs. THEY ARE DANCERS. Please tell me if I missed something.

Words: 1.7k approx.

Authors note: I am a little rusty and this is slightly unedited as well so please forgive if I make any mistake. Also, you can ask me to add you in the permanent taglist, so when I upload any drabble or story you could be notified🫶 ___________________________________________

"It seems like I underestimated how obidient you are. My perfect disciple."

The most important thing in dance is discipline, Hoseok told you that on the first day you visited his studio. You heard about how much body control he had, you just didn't realize how much you wanted him to control your body as well.

You used to imagine how his hands would feel around your throat or inside you. How would his dick feel in your throat or any of your holes. Never had you felt so out of control around someone. Always trying to get praised for how you move your hips.

Compliments about your dance turned into rewards so quick you didnt realize when he started to praise you for how good you looked riding him rather than at a move he taught.

And soon, you realized why you felt so powerless around him. It was like he stripped you of your powers as soon as you walked in that studio. He didn't have to say it verbally it was just the way he looked at you that made you submit to him.

You did not wanna upset him or disobey him. He made that very clear when you both started to date and get intimate, but getting less attention from him during crowded classes just wanted you to test his patience.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He says with a smile, fake, you can tell, calling you near your camera that was already set to film the routine, while all the dancers take a break.

"Tying my hair?" You say in a tone which makes his jaw tick. He hated you practicing with your hair tied up in front of others. Any other hairstyles were okay but this was his to hold, his to play around with, his to pull on while you got your throat fucked.

It made him want to bend you in front of everyone and tell them whom you belong to.

But as long as it got his attention, you were ready to risk it all.

He just glares at you as you stop letting your hair fall for the moment where you put your band in between your teeth, his gaze now unable to stay still on your eyes. You turn away from him to fidget with the camera's settings, pretending to fix something he told you to.

"Dont test me, doll." He says with his eyes squeezed, head tilted towards his feet.

"Oh yeah?" Stepping away from the camera, you start to put your hair very slowly in a ponytail, your top rising above your navel. He raises his head, eyes slowly trailing over your body.

Looking straight in your eyes, he steps towards you and scoffs. Looking at you, he raises a challenging brow meanwhile you finish your hairstyle by pulling the hair tie from your lips dramatically.

Tightening the hold of the hair tie on your messy pony tail with a raised brow, you tilt your head smiling innocently.

"Whatchu you gonna do about it, sir?" You challenge him with a smirk.

He smiles,"why dont you fuck around and find out, brat?"

A muffled cry escapes you as you feel your orgasm approaching. Once again.

The question, would he let you come or edge you again comes back. Again.

Hands at your back tied with a tie and mouth stuffed with a ball gag covered in spit, your knees were bruising against the satin sheets. You spread your shaking knees apart enough for your folds to touch the mattress and the vibrator that hoseok holds under your pussy.

He had been surprising you with different personas every time you saw him perform, but this? This dominant persona is your favorite, it is overwhelming to experience yet so cunt-clenchingly exciting every time.

"That's it, doll, let it go." He coos mockingly, and his voice sounds so soft against his appearance, shirtless and trousers unbottoned, making his briefs visible.

His voice makes you shiver in anticipation and makes you believe he is gonna let you come but then he can be so unpredictable.

Since he was choosing when to let you come, he has also been randomly edging you, you dont want to believe his words anymore.

You knew the first orgasm would have been a mind numbing one but he just laughed and removed the vibrator away from your pussy, laughing at how pathetically you cried. Surprising you with an orgasm after that by just lightly tapping your clit, soon followed by another one that almost made you blackout of overstimulation.

"Yeah? You wanna?"

Nodding your head slowly, your head falls back with a muffled moan. Tears falling over mixing with your spit your knees shake as he holds you with one hand and presses the vibrator harder on your clit with the other.

"Ohhhhh, feels good, right?"

He lets out at the same time you let out a low groan, making fun of how you shake and moan in front of him.

You nod your head again with garbled sounds coming from your mouth. Leaning in, he kisses your cheek, warm breath fanning your face, and you open your eyes to look at his dark ones, whining and mumbling a plea.

"Did you say something?" He says, pausing when you mumble something behind the gag. When you dont respond to his question, he immediately removes the pressure and puts the device aside.

"Look at me." He says gently holding your face with bith of his hands. "Are you okay? Still green?" You nod but he still loosens your gag.

"Words."

"Yes, green, just needed a sec." You say with a tired smile to assure his suddenly softening and concerned eyes.

"You're doing great baby, so perfect," he says, kissing you, which immediately makes you feel safe. Tightening the gag at your assurance, he leans down to lick a stripe from your tits to the spot behind your ear, making you flinch with sensitivity. Laughing, he grabs your waist to stop you from running.

Switching the vibrating device, he replaces it with his long fingers.

"Fuck baby, you're so wet." He breathes lightly rubbing his hand sideways and shifts his other hand from your waist to your head slowly. Your head falls back as his hand grazes your spine but soon gets yanked back to place by your ponytail in order to make sure you look him straight in the eye.

"I know you wanna cum all over my hands, baby, but have you been a good girl?" You nod almost too quickly at his question making him tsk in disappointment.

"Wow" he scoffs, "you really got some nerve, huh?" He snarls and slips two of his fingers inside you while unlocking the gag behind your head. You gasp as it falls off, and your head lols forward at the way his fingers felt inside you. Pulling your head back by your hair again, he says through his teeth,

"I am gonna ask you again, do you deserve to cum?" He grits his teeth while pulling his fingers out now palming your mound sloppily and slowly waiting for you to answer.

"I-I am sorry. Please-" he slaps your cunt making you gasp as soon as he hears your throaty plea.

"Yes or no!" He says now rubbing your folds with his palm slowly as you squirm with your mouth open in silent moan.

"No, no, oh shit, no!" You cry.

Parting your pussy lips with his index and ring finger he slowly flicks your clit making your body twitch with every movement his finger does.

"Such a good slut, so obidient." He coos licking your earlobe and you shake in his hold. Pressing his fingers in again he groans at how wet and sloppy you are. Letting your hands fall free from the back he opens the knot and pushes you lightly on the bed.

You watch with hooded eyes as he takes his dick out of his trousers and then throws his shirt somewhere on the ground. Rubbing his length all over your pussy, he enters you.

You gasp, feeling him inside you, stretch burning your walls. Your tears fall out as your hands reach to hold him.

"F-fuuuuck so tight- ah shit"

"Oh thats it"

You both moan at the same time. You could feel every ridge his dick had, its head reaching spots that makes you see stars.

"Oh, you're soooo dick drunk, baby," he smiles, wiping away the drool at the corner of your lips, and you moan, eyes rolling back.

"Such a good girl, so pretty. Fucking gorgeous" he says giving sloppy kisses to your neck and collarbones. You gasp when he bites your nipple while almost picking you up from the mattress from how hard he presses your body closer to his.

"Squeezing me so good, baby" he breathes.

"H-hobi," you squirm out of sensitivity, so he pulls out and quickly maneuvers your legs on one side, sliding in once again. The angle makes you both feel each other in a better way, tighter and closer.

Thrusting in and out, he reaches to your hand, which tries to find something to hold, entwining your fingers with his. He holds it beside your head against the mattress, slightly twisting you.

While your other hand goes up in his hair, he kisses you with fervor, grunting in your mouth licking up all your whines. He groans at the way you squeeze him. He pushes in once again grinding and rolling his dick deeper inside you.

"Oh my god," you gasp, pulling on his hair.

"Take it, I know you can." He says, gritting his teeth and sloppily thrusting in and out of you, signaling his climax. You both grunt at how harsh his thrusts are, almost punishing with a bruising hold on your hips as the sound of your skin smacking fills the room.

"Go on baby, ah fuck- tell me, who do you belong to?" He says, holding your jaw with his fingers turning your face towards him.

"You," you gasp, his lips brushing on yours.

"Me who, doll?" He licks in your mouth but pulls back before you can suck on it.

"Hoseok." You breathe out heavily followed by a moan on a particularly sharp thrust.

"Again-" he moans biting your chin.

"H-Hoseok," you moan louder this time.

"Louder." He grunts

"Hos-ohh," he shifts back to spread your legs open once again. Fisting the sheets above your head, he thrusts in you faster.

"Louder!"

"Hoseok- fuck oh my god!" You scream and he groans kissing you.

"Fuck. Cum, doll"

Your back arches and you clamp around his cock making him give a hard thrust followed by thick white spurts released into you. You moan at how filled you feel.

Chests heaving you both try to catch your breath, body sweaty and sticky you both stay in the position for some seconds. Coming back from his high, he peppers your body with small kisses, making your eyes flutter at the warm satiated feeling.

Tiredness take over you and you feel yourself falling asleep. Hoseok tries to slip out of you but you lock your hands over his shoulders, whining sleepily and making him slip inside you once again.

He smiles at how clingy and cute you become post-sex. Kissing you once again, he hums deep in your ear,

"Sweetie, I gotta clean you up." tucking a hair lock behind your ear, he pats your side gently.

"5 more minutes." You mumble, hugging him again.

"Baby-"

"Please," you pull him in tighter and wrap your legs around him, gasping at the feeling of his dick inside you. He teasingly thrusts his softening dick inside you once again, making you whine and bury your head in his neck.

He chuckles giving in, "Fine. Brat."

Date: 18th February 2024

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peachesofteal · 10 months

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okay okay I’m the anon who sent in the ask about if Simon would’ve chased Darling and like…now you have me intensely needing that AU where he chases her, carries her back, and ties her to the bed 😈

AND wondering how they even got her to the flat in the first place?? Like even Darling is confused, so it must’ve been that quick for Simon and Johnny to get her from the hotel back home for her to wonder how the hell she got back there

Sorry sorry I’m just so obsessed with Dead Disco and all these possible AUs and different scenes and scenarios have me going absolutely FERAL

I could be very well tempted to write "tying to the bed" au but also, loved this opportunity to revisit Darling and the guys between chapters three and four, when she was incredibly vulnerable and in a difficult mental space. So, thank you. All my love to you! 🩵

Canon for Dead Disco - takes place between Chapters 3 and 4. 18+ Mature themes. No smut but Darling doing darling things (eating issues, alcohol use, anxiety, depressive episode, etc.) Mentions of prescription medication.

“Do you have any clothes?” Johnny asks, rubbing your shoulder softly. You nod and point to the bag that sits haphazardly on the chair. Simon rifles through it while Johnny works the towel in your hair, trying to get it as dry as possible. You sit still for him, unmoving, and it hurts when he remembers the way you were only two months when he washed your hair, giggling against him, relaxed and happy while he massaged his fingertips into your scalp, carefully making sure everything was rinsed from roots to ends.

Something rattles in Simon’s hands, and it draws your attention, your head whipping to where he’s got a bottle of pills in his hand, a full bottle, and Johnny smothers his grimace. Simon puts it back in your bag without saying anything, but the silence speaks for itself. You haven’t been taking your meds.

“I’m sorry.” You lament, voice choked with tears, and Johnny pulls you into his chest, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“Shhh. It’s alright, we know.” His heart breaks for you, for what he knows is going on in your head, for how you must feel. Abandoned. You felt abandoned by them. You felt like you were on the outside. You felt left behind. He swallows the guilt, not allowing his own unsteady emotions to take over, instead choosing to finish with your hair and coaxing you out of your robe to get changed.

“Are we…” you begin but trail off, and he holds the t shirt that Simon pulled from the bag towards you. “really going to get a new place?” you finish once your head pops through the hole, and he realizes it’s Simon’s t shirt. You were wearing his own when you answered the door, and he wonders how much of your bag is actually their clothing.

“Yes, darling.” Simon answers. “But first we need to get you home.” You stare at him kind of blankly, a little void-like, before you blink and nod slowly.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’ll let us take you home?” Simon clarifies, because he needs it. Johnny knows, he needs to hear it, the permission, the allowance for what comes next.

Control.

“Yes.” You whisper. Simon looks at him, and it’s all Johnny needs to understand. Stand down. Let me handle it. Lock step. Johnny nods.

They get the hotel room together pretty quickly. You sit on the bed with your legs crossed the entire time, eyes burning a hole in the wall, vacancy still present there, unmoving until Simon prompts you, encourages you to stand, where Johnny hesitantly offers you his hand, to hold. Take it. Take it, please darling. Trust me. I’m here. I’m right here.

You stare for a long moment, before you’re finally clutching onto him, letting his fingers intertwine with yours as he moves you towards the door.

When the three of you get to the elevator, you falter. You step away from the both of them, letting go of Johnny’s hand, panic rising through you, your eyes darting between them and the elevator.

“Darling.” Johnny tries to reach for you, but you step back.

“I-“ you gasp, and then press your palm over your heart, like it aches, like you’re physically hurting. “I d-don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sob, the sound tearing into Johnny, shredding him apart and he gapes at you, momentarily confused. No, no no. Come back to us. “I don’t- I don’t know.” Simon moves, fast, into your orbit, wide palm streaking across the dead air to hold onto you, pulling you into his chest while gripping your neck. Not hard, not enough to hurt, but enough to act as the fail-safe, the thing that they turn to sometimes when presented with no other choice. The shutdown button. It settles you easily, gently, and pulls you back into yourself in moments like these. “I’m sorry.” You blubber, while Simon walks you backwards, slowly, until you’re pressed against Johnny, and his arms come around you easily.

“Stay with us, darling. Stay here. With us.” He coaches you, trying to keep you present, keep you calm while kneads his fingers against your shoulder. He vaguely remembers the still cold, half drank beer that was sitting in the dresser in your room, and it clicks together a bit more, why you’re so upset in this moment, compared to the tired, subdued, near catatonic state you’ve been in for the last hour. Alcohol is a depressant. And for you, and others who struggle similarly, it can make or break you. It can leave you feeling anxious for days after over consuming, can make your heart hurt and your brain confused that much more easily when you’re vulnerable like this. Johnny knows this. “Love, look at me.” He taps your jaw while Simon shuffles your bag back onto his arm and presses the elevator button, all the while still rubbing your neck. You peek up at him, face still half burrowed in his chest, and he takes the opportunity to ask. “Were you drinking earlier?”

“Yeah.” You whisper. “I’m so-“

“Don’t.” Simon soothes you. “Don’t apologize, darling. You’re okay. Everything’s alright now. We’re going to get you home, and get you into bed. Maybe something easy to eat if you feel up to it, okay?”

“Okay.” You mumble. You keep yourself pressed into Johnny and he can’t help but soak it up, loving the feeling of you in his arms, safe, here, with him. Not gone. Not MIA. Here.

You fall asleep in the car. Johnny holds you in the backseat, the entire time, and nobody speaks. Simon occasionally checks on him via the rearview mirror, and then reaches his hand behind the driver’s seat to squeeze Johnny’s knee. It’s a comfort, and Johnny just wants to fast forward until the three of you are together, at home, in bed.

He wakes you when they pull into the parking garage, managing to rouse you enough to get you into the elevator, and by the time the doors are opening on their floor, you’re fully awake, your hands twisted together while you walk. He breathes deeper, breathes easier, when the front door opens, and he walks through, turning to coax you through the doorway with an outstretched hand and open palm, as Simon stands with every muscle tense, his eyes not blinking, not willing tear his gaze away from where you linger, and he knows its because he is afraid you'll bolt. Johnny's not sure he could keep him from chasing you down at this point, and when he glances at him again, he sees how his body is thrumming with nervous energy, ready to break into a sprint at a split second’s notice.

Come on, love. Come inside.

“Darling?”

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john mactavish #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader

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4riadne · 17 days

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MEET-CUTE nanami kento x fem!reader

summary: you meet nanami at a cafe - thankfully for you, your friend isn't going to let him pass you by. word count: 815

a/n: wrote this six months ago, forgot it existed <3

You’re in a cafe when it happens; sitting by the window, close to the counter, listening idly as your friend chatters away. You’ve got your favourite drink in front of you, half-finished as you idly swirl circles in the drink. The door chimes, and in walks a customer who, in your humble opinion, just so happens to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He’s perfect; you’re talking tall, chiselled cheekbones, intense expression, and a vaguely exhausted look about him. His blonde hair is meticulously styled. “I think I just saw my soulmate.”

“What?” Your friend's head swerves. You can see the second she notices the man you just saw, because the next words out of their mouth are, “oh, wow. Smash.”

You both giggle, embarrassing juvenile. For a moment, you feel like you’re twelve years old again, giggling over crushes and shushing your friend’s so as to not wake up your parents. You sink in your seat, attempting to hold onto some of your dignity as both of you try to subtly catch another glimpse of the man.

“You have to say something,” your friend whisper-shouts. You respond most maturely with a violent shake of your head, catching another glimpse of him–lucky enough, he hasn’t caught onto the fact you were both ogling him.

“Are you crazy?” The man turns your way, and you resist the urge to duck in your seat. Instead, you take a long sip of your drink. Your friend, the absolute traitor, waves at him. Before you can sink into embarrassment, his eyes flick up, and he offers a nod. A soft incline to his head.

“Damn, he’s hot.”

You hiss your friend’s name. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you clearly weren’t going to.” Previous conversation completely forgotten, your friend kicks your leg under the table. “Go talk to him.”

“What if he thinks I’m weird? I don’t know.”

“Like he ever could. Just smile and he’s yours.” They push your chair back slightly, making you grip at the table in surprise. “Besides, if things get weird I’ll come over.”

“And how would you know if things got weird?”

“Uh, we’re girls. It’s obvious.” They kick your chair again, brows furrowing into a glare. “Go get him, girl. And get me another slice while you’re at it, please.”

“I hate you.” You rise out of her seat, brushing down your pants. “What do I even say?”

“It’ll come to you!” I hope you die, you think, legs feeling like jelly as you force your way towards the counter.

You tap his shoulder, finger trembling against the fabric. He turns towards you the second your finger brushes him, and your hand is left there awkwardly hovering as you stare up at him. You’d thought, upon noticing him, that he was a few years older; upon closer inspection, he’s just plagued by the daily struggle of corporate life. It’s doing horrors to his skin.

“Can I help you?”

For a moment all the air feels like it’s being sucked out of the room, and you debate just making a break for it. “Um, hi.”

“Hello.”

“Sorry, I was just, uh–” You wince, “do you come here often? I haven’t really seen you around here before.”

“No.” He says, and he turns so he’s facing you, attention fully on you. You do your best to keep your hands still. When you don't make a move to say something else, he continues. “The cafe I used to go to raised their prices too high.”

“Oh, that sucks.” You offer him a sympathetic smile. “Coffee prices here are insane, huh? It was so startling when I moved here.”

“When did you move here?”

You tell him the date, a hopeless smile crossing your lips. Okay, okay, this is going well–small talk is always a good place to start, right? “What about you? Have you lived here long?”

“I have. I haven’t had the chance to go elsewhere.”

“Oh, do you not travel much?”

“I do, when work allows it.”

“I get that.” You do not, in fact, get that. “Well, hopefully you get the chance soon. What do you do for work?”

“I’m a stockbroker.” Just about the most boring job known to man, but that’s okay. You can work with that. At least he’s been willing to talk with you this far–baby steps? “What about you?” You answer him. This is going startlingly close to a game of 20 questions, and you really don't feel like you’re getting anywhere. You take a deep breath. “So, uh–” your mind blanks, “--right! I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. It’s nice to meet you.” You give him your name. Now, you might be over analysing things, but you think his expression gets the slightest bit friendlier, so you must be doing something right.

“I’m Nanami Kento. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #kento x reader #by luca

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lolabangtan · 2 years

Text

STAY | 15

Back at the dorms, Jungkook misses you madly. Hate, heartbreak, and longing mix in his heart. In public, though, he’s still cold and hurtful towards you – until he discovers who’s his new roommate.

index • previous • next

Word count: 9k

Warnings: smut, dub-con fantasy, attempted infidelity.

# angst, delirious masturbation (?), clumsy anal fingering, noona + mommy kink, Jungkook is kind of messed up in this one (but who’s to blame for that except me lol), scent kink, cum play, crying, awkward hyung-junior bonding!!

A/N: thanks to Generic Club Girl 1 for starring in this chapter.

“I will issue a restraining order if you keep doing this.”

It’s too early in the morning to put up with Kim Seokjin and his antics. You haven’t even finished your first coffee and here he is, standing in front of your door like a moron. Or a creep.

“Come on,” he says, still adamant, “I’ll give you a ride. Or maybe it’s better if your boyfriend doesn’t see us together?”

His words fuel you, and you frown; why should you refrain from seeing anyone? It’s his problem if Jungkook prefers to be petty and not talk to you. In fact, it’s on him if he’s got a problem with you talking to any guy at all. Especially when he’s not willing to talk things out with you.

You groan and go back in to collect your things. “Ugh, okay, let’s go. I’m late anyways, and I don’t have my car yet.” Keys swinging around your finger, you finally beckon Seokjin to follow you down the stairs. “How have you been doing these days since you came back? Do you already have a place to stay?”

“Yeah, I’m moving into the dorms. Namjoon is great and all, but… I don’t wanna feel like I’m taking up space in their tiny flat.”

You roll your eyes. “He’d never think that.”

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the car door for you, and despite your grimace, you get in.

“It won’t be long, just until I find a proper flat that doesn’t stink,” he says, taking the driver’s seat, and smirks. “I think it’ll be fun in the meantime.”

“I’m already sorry for the poor freshman who’ll have to put up with you.”

“Speaking of freshmen…” You close your eyes and throw back your head, already tired of his unfinished question. “You have a class with him today, don’t you? You’ll see him for the first time since last week.”

Ah, it’s been a week already? Felt like a year… Seven days since you last talked to Jungkook, seven days since that awful phone call in which you were called out for doing something you don’t know yet. They never told you. Seven days without seeing him, without hearing his voice, without feeling his warm skin or making him smile. The thought alone makes your heart throb in pain inside your chest.

If only you were not so mad at him to miss him – then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“You’ll work it out, you just need to talk things through with him,” Seokjin suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

But you’d have to get near him in the first place to do that.

And you have yet to figure out how Seokjin might fit into your life, or, for now, whether it is in your best interest to even let him in in the first place. Even though things have been patched up, you still feel a simmering resentment for him inside you; he can’t just show up and ask you to forget about the pain he made you go through in the name of friendship.

“You look different.”

His voice makes you turn your head away from the window. “Hm? I didn’t do anything, though.”

“Not physically, uh…” Seokjin purses his lips. “You feel different. Like, older, in a way – but I guess that’s what happens when time passes.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” you chuckle, frowning in confusion.

But Seokjin’s eyes look softer as they stay glued to the road. For a second you get it – he feels different too, older. Time passes for everyone, even if you are the only one who seems unable to grow out of your shelf of youth. Unable to mature and break through its naivety. Unable to do like everyone else and turn your pain into wisdom instead of letting it turn into resentment.

“You really think so?” you murmur with a hopeful rise in your voice. “Lately I feel like a tall child, crying and fussing about everything.”

He glances at you. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“You must know very few people.”

“Maybe.”

“When did you know it was time to break up with her?” you suddenly ask, leaning back in the seat.

“Uh… It’s a gut feeling? Like, you start seeing signs that you’ve grown apart. I realised I didn’t care anymore, not in the way I should care about my girlfriend, anyways,” Seokjin explains while you stare at him.

His words make you ponder; you don’t feel yourself growing apart from Jungkook, if anything, you feel closer than ever. He’s just going through something, and you’ve probably hurt his feelings. This is all a misunderstanding, that’s it. You care about him in ways you never thought you’d care about anyone – you would live inside his brain and under his skin if you could.

The car pulls into the pavilion’s car park with a swift turn, and you collect your backpack from your feet.

“Just ignore everything I said earlier, you’re not old,” Seokjin jokes, closing the car door. “It’s just that I’ve had a lot on my mind lately too; we old people think a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You shrug it off and say goodbye before he can even blink, not wanting anyone to see you together. Not that it’s a bad thing, but you’d rather avoid giving people something to nibble on. They have an imagination strong enough to come up with unsubstantiated gossip, they don’t need that kind of help.

The halls are as busy as always, lousy Mondays; people running up and down, beams of sunlight coming from the tall windows. It’s first thing in the morning and everyone wants to talk about their weekend.

Except you, maybe – you did absolutely nothing besides binge-watching a show and ignoring Seokjin’s texts.

Okay, here we go.

The words resonate in your head as you mentally prepare yourself to face the recently begun day when someone goes down the stairs behind you. They bump your shoulder on their way down, and you realise in shock that it’s Jungkook; Ari and Jimin are with him, and the former nudges him on the side at his rude gesture towards you. The pitiful look on her face is enough to make you want to throw up and bawl your eyes out.

Maybe this is your chance? Maybe he was trying to catch your attention somehow?

You follow him down the step. “Hey, Jungkook—”

“Let’s just sit there,” he mumbles, not even looking at you, and turns to Ari. “Noona, can you make room for me?”

With a sigh, your friend nods and scoots to the seat on her left so that Jungkook can squeeze in between them. Now the row is full, and there are pretty much no seats left except those in the front row.

At the sight, Soobin rushes to abandon his friends and sits down right in front of the professor’s desk. Jungkook watches the whole thing in silence.

“You never sit at the front,” he says when you take the chair next to him.

Does he think you’re blind—?

Oh, but you’re too tired to fight, so you nod in silence. “I guess I was feeling proactive today.” You suddenly close the book in front of you and turn to him. “So, what’s up? Neither do you.”

“I didn’t want you to sit alone… Everything cool with your boyfriend?” he asks, careful – enough to let you know that there is some gossip going around. “He looks mad pissed. Did you fight—? Sorry, it’s probably none of my business.”

“We didn’t fight,” you reply, “I just want to focus, hence my sitting here. Cool?”

“Cool…”

The class starts shortly afterwards and goes on smoothly. You manage to take notes without letting Soobin distract you too much with his chatter, though the feeling of Jungkook’s gaze burning into the back of your head is far more noticeable than anything else. You don’t know if he enjoyed your little show with Soobin, but you’re pretty sure the kid’s in need of some tough love to learn about boundaries.

When it’s time for lunch, the professor dismisses his class, and everyone leaves the classroom either chatting or with their eyes glued to their mobile phones. You collect your things before Soobin does anything and flee up the steps.

“It was kind of sad, seeing you sitting all alone.” You turn around at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. You roll your eyes by instinct. “Guess you had it coming.”

You scan him head to toe; whatever the reason for the sudden attitude, this pseudo-bad guy thing doesn’t suit him at all. It’s almost embarrassing to watch, honestly, and you want your Jungkook back. Unfortunately, this Jungkook here doesn’t seem really willing to talk things out.

And, unfortunately, you’ve built back up your walls pretty easily, even with him.

“And what did you want me to do instead? Crawl back to the friends that lied to my face because I had no one else to talk to?”

The arrogance disappears from his face and is soon replaced by a slight blush of embarrassment. With a snort, you step forward to take his arm, but Jungkook frowns in pain and shakes off your weak grip.

“Don’t touch me,” he whimpers.

He looks so handsome today, you notice as your eyes are unable to move away from his face; he looks so precious, and you miss him so much. Your heart shrinks in your chest, but you can’t stop looking at him. Your eyes are hungry for him, willing to nourish all the yearning your hands and lips can’t satisfy.

“B— Jungkook,” you groan, his name nothing but a plea, “what is wrong with you? Can you just tell me what’s going on?”

Your words only seem to fuel his irritation. “You know what you did. Don’t come to me until you are ready to answer for it— hyung, noona, let’s go, I’m hungry.”

If looks could kill, Ari’s would certainly do nothing. She’s the last one to turn around and follow Jungkook out of the lecture hall, her eyes lingering with sadness on your face. Maybe she knows something, maybe she feels that there’s something off about this conflict he’s made up. Ari knows you better than anyone in this world, after all – only after Jungkook… or not.

“Jungkook, you haven’t touched your food.”

Yeah, he knows. He knows he’s been staring at the tray ever since they got sat at the table. Jimin had proposed to eat out, but he didn’t want to go anywhere he’s ever been with you before— and even if it’s not like you’ve never been together in the university cafeteria, it hasn’t happened many times. Works for him.

Jungkook plays with the slices of pork, still silent and ignoring Taehyung’s voice, his dull face resting on the open palm of his hand.

“Hey, we can’t take three hours for lunch,” Ari suddenly barks. “Sort it out with your girlfriend or eat.”

He lowers his head. “Noona is not my girlfriend anymore.”

“She actually is,” Taehyung mutters; “you haven’t broken up yet, have you?”

The air feels awkward and silent, a cloud of tiredness heavy on their shoulders. Suddenly, the clinking sound of cutlery dropping on the tray gets their attention.

Jungkook groans loudly and shoves a spoonful of plain rice into his mouth in anger. “Uh, you’re supposed to be on my side, you know?” he then garbles with his mouth full, provoking grossed-out grimaces.

“Uh, we never took your side?” Jimin lets out a confused laugh and crosses his arms. “Never took hers, either. Friends don’t take sides.”

“Then why are you here?”

They share a look before Ari says, “Well, Y/N won’t talk to us, and it’s obvious you’re not okay.”

“So—” Jungkook straightens up in the chair out of pure shock. “You think what she did was right? Is noona the one giving you the cold shoulder? I’m—! Oh God, she was— this is so awful of you, guys.”

“Sorry, can you tune me in? I don’t see what the problem is now,” Jimin groans, his – and everyone’s – tray already empty. They seem no longer phased by the youngest’s fuss.

Ari frowns, totally baffled, and blurts out, “When did we say Y/N did nothing wrong—? Look, Kookie, I think you need to take the rest of the day off, you’re not okay…” Her boyfriend glances at her as if she was talking to a kid. “Take a nap, drink water, meditate, I don’t know… I know it seems like the end of the world, but you just have to, uh, process your feelings, okay?”

He hasn’t cried since the very day it happened. That night, he bawled his eyes out on their couch, weeping and calling for you as he curled up against Jimin. Jungkook can still remember the way his eyes burned the next morning.

Just picturing you with him makes him want to throw up.

With a dry goodbye, Jungkook gets up and decides to follow his friend’s advice. Soon, he ends up in front of the door of his dorm room; he moved in a few days after falling out with you. The dorm supervisor had called a month or so ago saying that he was accepted back in, under the obvious condition of not getting into a fight with anyone – Soobin or not – ever again. Of course, the choice between staying with you and sharing a filthy room with a stranger was clear.

Now it isn’t. At least, for the moment, Jungkook is alone in the room until further notice.

The room is dark when he walks in, closing the door carefully – Jungkook can’t risk the supervisor, who already has enough of a grudge against him, deciding to throw him out. This time he will have nowhere to go.

It’s not until he turns on the light and draws the curtains that he notices the half-empty box on the other bed. Does this mean that his days of sleeping alone are over? Jungkook isn’t sure if he has the patience to share a room, but it all depends on what kind of roommate he’ll get. Oh, he’s bad at socialising. Nothing makes him more uncomfortable.

Curiosity gets the best of him, and Jungkook ends up walking up to the neatly made bed; there are some records, books, and figurines peeking out of the box. He can recognise a few.

Maybe having a new roommate won’t be that bad.

Now that he thinks of it, he left so much stuff behind after moving back into the dorms. Everything should still be in his room, or well, in the room you used to share. You’re not the crazy kind of ex who burns things— are you?

Ex.

“Fuck.”

It won’t do him any good to keep thinking about you. For the time being, Jungkook should better focus on the club and get through the rest of the year. His parents won’t stop asking him about his freshman year at uni, so he needs good things to say. Especially if they start asking about the nice girl they met at the swimming tournament.

Jungkook wishes he could take the bus instead of his car, but he can’t bring his things back on the bus – being spotted is the last thing he wants because he knows any of your neighbours will start asking questions. ‘Oh, Y/N, where is that handsome boy?’ ‘Did you two fall out? What a pity!’ ‘Ah, so you dumped him. He wasn’t that handsome anyways.’ They will ask you, and you will say that you dumped him for an older guy who probably has all his shit together and can last more than five minutes.

He pulls into the car park after a short ride. Just like he predicted, the lot is empty, so your shiny new boyfriend hasn’t picked you up from work yet.

Sadly, the anger has started to fade into sadness. It gets harder every day not to miss you, not to wonder if there’s anything he could have done to keep you by his side. Should he have listened to you more? Should he have pleased you better, should he have tried harder to become a boyfriend you would not be ashamed of? Or did Jungkook never have a real chance to be with you?

The flat welcomes him with complete silence when he walks in.

After mindlessly standing in the middle of the hall for a solid minute, he finally begins to discern all the sounds he has become familiar with – the soft rumble of traffic, the muffled horns, and the chirping birds. The neighbour’s television can be heard through the wall.

How could Jungkook let himself get attached so foolishly to a place? Why did he allow his heart to feel at peace here?

If only he could go back in time and keep all his hatred inside. Letting go of it, letting it turn into wise, healing love was a mistake. Now all he has is the choking feeling that he’s missing half his heart.

Shaking his head, he realises he doesn’t really have much time to play around, so he goes to his room and unfolds the boxes. The only things he has left to take are useless decorations or outerwear that he won’t need until winter, but it’s best to get it done now. And, as he imagined, it doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes to empty his drawers.

He can’t find his black boots, though. And he loves those boots.

They can only be in your room. Yes, he remembers taking them out to clean them, as summer is coming to an end, so he would most likely have put them back in your wardrobe.

After rummaging around the room, Jungkook finally finds the pair of boots under your bed. He sits on the mattress, staring at them. Suddenly he feels exhausted – as if his body lacks strength; it’s been a week since he last slept in this bed, that morning when he woke up next to you.

That morning when everything still had meaning, when you were still with him.

Just gonna close my eyes for a second, Jungkook tells himself as he lies down on the bed. The blankets hug him, almost as if reprimanding him for staying away for so long. Like a mother’s nagging. The accidental thought that he deserves to be nagged crosses his mind— because he does; he deserves to be scolded for leaving you without talking things through first. Won’t you come back to him and scold him? So that he can say sorry and return to you.

He’s so mad at you but fuck he misses you.

Closing his eyes was a big mistake. Now all Jungkook can do is picture your body on top of his body, your skin soft and warm against his skin, your lips peppering tender kisses from his lips down to his throat and chest.

It piques his craving for your presence first, a physical need to be with you. You soothe him, make him happy.

But then the feeling begins to mix with something else, something that cries for your presence in a primal way. A connection so deep it can only be achieved when his body is inside yours. The urge to kiss you gets so strong that Jungkook’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat to avoid letting out a moan of utter want.

He would literally die, kill, rob, kidnap, hijack a goddamn plane to have you next to him right now.

The skin on his chest feels sensitive. With the images of your face and body plaguing his head, there is a knot inside him that engorges and throbs. In a way, he’s digging his own grave.

Surely Jungkook can’t be that insane, right?

Oh, but he is. He’s crazy with want and loneliness and he misses you madly. So bad that, without a second thought, his hand goes south to cup the already half-hard tent in his pants, whimpering at the feeling.

Jungkook pictures it’s your hand rubbing the engorged head of his cock through the fabric.

But this is not enough. Hastily, the boy unbuckles his belt and pulls down his trousers, with his underwear following the same fate not long after. His erect cock bounces against his belly, and Jungkook brings his hand to his lips to spit on it while he turns around to lie face down. He’s down the rabbit hole already, so—

“A-ah,” he lets out, taken by surprise when his hand starts squeezing the glistening tip. Is this your ghost truly guiding him? “Oh, fuck…”

The memory of your hands strokes down his chest, peppering kisses. Your voice is murmuring sweet nothings, words of praise because you’d always appreciate it when he was a good boy. If his teasing and misbehaviour ignited you, his compliance would always bring out your sweetness.

Such a good boy, it says. Jungkook’s fist starts pumping faster. My baby bun.

You draw your finger down his spine, to his buttocks, until it reaches his perineum, making him chuckle nervously. “Noona,” Jungkook breathes out, “w-where are you touching?”

Let mommy have her way, will you, baby?

“But I— I’ve never been touched d-down there,” he whispers to himself, burying his face in the pillow.

Won’t you let me touch your pretty virgin hole, Kookie? It’ll feel good, I promise. Bet it’s so tight. Just get me the lube, spread your legs, and stop whining. It might hurt at first, but you’ll like it.

Your harsh tone kind of upsets him, but he figures out that you must want him so badly that you can’t help but sound demanding. That’s just the way you love him.

Jungkook doesn’t really have much idea of what he’s doing, he just knows what Jimin and Taehyung have decided to share with him about anal sex throughout their friendship. Lube it up first, as much as you can— and so he does, spurting lots of the slippery substance onto his digits before he plays with his puckered rim.

His arm starts hurting, so he turns over on the bed. Way better, he notes; now he can spread his legs, even press them against his chest. Open wide for you, so pretty, you’d love it.

His spit-coated finger strikes again, and Jungkook brings the blankets to his nose. It soothes him, your scent. In this little space, you’re still with him, you still want him. That is your thumb playing around his thighs, those are your lips smirking down at him.

The blankets, at least, still smell like you.

Jungkook’s other hand wraps around his cock again, pumping it fast to help him relax. In his mind, it’s your, jerking him off with a smirk on your face. Oh, you love watching him fall apart. You would scoot in between his parted legs and slide his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head until he starts sobbing in pleasure.

“S-shit.”

His fisted hand picks up a faster pace as it jerks his cock off with its focus on the tip.

Meanwhile, his other finger has stopped teasing his entrance and has begun to probe. The lube makes it easier while the stimulation coming from his cock has shoved him into a relaxed mental state.

“Oh—” And it finally slides in. The feeling is odd but nice – like he’s stuffed. Jungkook starts jerking off even faster, the sounds echoing through the room. “Oh, fuck, mommy! Shit—”

Knew you would love it, bunny.

He lets out a muffled moan. “Yes, yes— l-love it so much.”

Your tongue playing with his slit, your gentle finger slowly starting to work him open – Jungkook feels about to burst out in flames. His ears feel so hot, he’s positive his blood is boiling right now. The memory of your touch is easily the second-best thing in the world.

His fist messily pumps his cock as Jungkook brings the blanket to his nose. The soft scent, utterly yours, invades his nostrils and intoxicates him to the point of making him salivate.

He wants your pussy on his face to make you come until you think he’s the best you’ve ever had.

Your pretty, dripping wet pussy. Shit, having your cunt on his tongue brings him peace. Flicking your clit with his pointed tongue to bring out those sweet words of how good he makes you feel, what a good boy he is. That he’s enough. Nothing in this ugly world compares to being inside of you, he was made to make love with you – it’s his fate and home.

“M-mommy,” he calls out, eyes shut tight and eyebrows knitted together, “slow, please—” But his hands begin moving faster until his finger finds an engorged spot inside of him. “Fuck! Oh, f-fucking Christ!” Jungkook can’t stop rubbing it; it sends shivers from his core up to his very fingertips while his cock grows harder in his other hand. “Y/N! Please, please, please—! Shit, mommy, b-bunny— come, bunny come!”

Your lips feel real against his ear shell. Yeah? Does bunny want to come while mommy fucks his tight ass? Jungkook nods. What a slut.

His back arches off the bed. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck!”

Legs now spread open, Jungkook sobs in pleasure, overwhelmed. There are so many sensitive spots being ravaged right now, and there you are, hovering above him, smirking since you know fucking everything. A surprisingly sweet, gentle sparkle behind your pupils.

I love you, Jungkook.

That’s it, that’s his tipping point. In a second, his hips go from thrusting into his fist to bucking, and soon he’s coming all over his hand, his walls pulsing around his other finger.

“I—” Jungkook coughs. “S-shit, Y/N, I— I love you too,” he whimpers.

As he comes down from his high, the room suddenly feels empty and quiet. You’re not here, he remembers. The heat in his cheeks feels embarrassing, he’s just that pathetic. Then he looks down at his cum-covered palm.

You’re not here, and you won’t come back. Even if Jungkook threw his pride and self-worth out the window and crawled back to you, you won’t take him. You don’t need him. You don’t want him.

The first tear falls down his cheek, leaving a salty trail in contrast to his burning skin. His breath hitches in his throat, and soon Jungkook has to cover his mouth not to let any of his sobs out. Why did he ever decide to just accept it without trying to fight for you? Is that why you are so cold towards him? Because he was a compliant coward?

Maybe.

After cleaning himself and finishing sealing the boxes, Jungkook hurries out of the flat.

He’ll forget the tears of shame, he’ll forget how much he wants and misses you, he’ll forget that he’s in love, he’ll forget all about you. This was the last straw, perhaps; a moment of closure before he can wipe the slate clean.

Jungkook slams the boot of his car shut and slumps into the driver’s seat with a tired groan. When he starts the car, the radio comes on by surprise. Any noise mixes with the beeping in his head, so he hurries to turn it off before his headache worsens and sets off back to the university.

The corridors of the men’s dormitory are filled with students walking around in their underwear, passing a ball around, shouting – for some reason – or with their eyes glued to their phones. Jungkook makes his way through them as he catches a glimpse of Soobin’s face and other teammates in the crowd, but he chooses to ignore them, although he does wonder what their weird faces were all about.

After putting down a couple of boxes to turn the handle, Jungkook squats down to pick them up again and walks into his room with his back turned, pushing the door open with his ass.

“Shit, so it’s true.”

The voice sounds familiar, but not too much. So, he turns around, dropping the boxes on his bed, just to face the sight of fucking Kim Seokjin standing like an idiot in front of him. His entire body freezes, or it bursts out in flames, or maybe it gets struck by lightning— whatever. Jungkook just stands there, staring at him in complete silence.

“I thought those guys in the team were kidding,” Seokjin finally says. “Or at least I hoped so—”

“What are you doing in my room?” he cuts him off.

Oh, so this is what you meant when you said your boyfriend lived on another planet; it’s obvious this is his new room, knowing that he’s been bringing in his stuff the entire morning. The reason Jungkook is asking nonetheless, well, that’s a mystery to him.

Seokjin lets out an awkward chuckle. “I, uh… I was assigned this room.”

“No.”

“Don’t worry,” the eldest says with a sigh, “it won’t be for long. I’m looking for a place already. This was just a favour from the supervisor.”

Motherfucker.

“Yeah, and there was no other room to put your ass in except this one, right?” Before Seokjin can even reply, Jungkook turns around in disbelief, hands on his hips. “He totally did this to get on my nerves.”

“Man, I… I have no idea. Just asked him for the favour.”

Wait, why is he having a conversation with the asshole who stole his girlfriend? And now he’s also his roommate. The universe hates him.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and turns around to start unpacking the boxes; maybe if he ignores him, it won’t be a deadly situation. Yeah, that’s it, Jungkook just has to pretend Kim Seokjin isn’t here, or even that he doesn’t exist at all, and he will get some of his peace back.

When he bends down to charge his phone, he notices that it’s busy charging another one already. The device makes a bubbling noise when unplugged, drawing his roommate’s attention as he recognises the sound.

Stifling a curse and making a grimace of realisation, Seokjin turns around with a smile. “Ah, yeah, I plugged your charger into my phone, I hope you don’t—”

“Well— don’t!” Jungkook unplugs the charger abruptly, the phone still in his grip. “You can’t just… go around taking my things, okay! God damn it, is there anything you’ll let me keep? Like a fucking robber…”

However, the device starts to ring, and a very familiar name shows up on the screen.

Y/N, incoming call.

Jungkook goes suddenly quiet, his shoulders now listless as he hands him back the phone. For a second, Seokjin forgets all about how nuts the guy actually is and gets a slight feeling of pity and remorse before taking the call and putting the screen on his ear.

“Hello—? Ah, yeah— sorry, didn’t see the time. Hm, yes, I’m on my way.”

Ah, yes, your Prince Charming is late to pick you up. The realisation makes him chuckle at first, but it soon turns bitter.

You truly have stopped caring for him.

The mere idea that he no longer has a place in your heart is terrifying. It’s unfair that this had to happen for Jungkook to figure out the actual depth of his feelings because now that he wants to, he… can’t do anything about it. But even if he could, could his pride ever allow him to? Crawling back to the woman who dumped him like he’s worthless.

Jungkook prefers to think it wouldn’t.

The three of them look at each other in a newly established silence. More and more often their reactions to everything their young friend says cannot be otherwise.

“I mean, you know I never say no to getting wasted at a club,” Jimin finally says, frowning, “but are you sure that’s what you want? Wouldn’t you prefer, uh, I don’t know… staying over for a movie night, maybe?”

But Jungkook only scoffs. “What, like I’m a kid? I wanna party!”

“All right, all right! Jesus…” Jimin gets up to fill his cup with water and comes back, hoping his friend has calmed down. This attitude of his is starting to get on his nerves. “Okay, let’s go out tonight, then… How about you two sleep over so we can just grab a cab? You’re always the designated driver, Tae.”

“That’s not the point!” Jungkook suddenly blurts out. “I wanna— I wanna, like, not sleep at all. A-and I’ll get fucking wasted, and I— I’ll fuck! I’ll meet a hot chick and I’ll fuck her!” he cries out then.

Jimin and Taehyung share a look.

“Do you really think you’re ready to hook up with anyone that’s not Y/N?” the latter says, playing with his drink as he feigns disinterest. “There’s no point in messing around with a girl just to—”

“I don’t need her, I don’t want her! She’s a-a bitch!” Jungkook cuts him off.

Then he gets up and goes to open the fridge, looking for another beer. Taehyung rubs his eyes; this sounds like a night to remember, that’s for sure. And if it’s not, he’s pretty sure Jungkook will make sure no one forgets about it.

A couple of hours later, they’re getting out of the cab and walking toward the club.

Yes, he has everything under control, this is not something he’s never done before: he will get drunk and make eye contact, and then everything will go on fluidly, like always. It doesn’t have to be any different from what he used to do before he fell for you. Yeah, it won’t probably be the same; he won’t tremble in expectation the way he’d do when it was you, and their touches won’t feel like your soft hands roaming down his back. It won’t be your lips kissing him, or your voice praising him because, honestly, he just wants to be good for you.

He knows all that already.

“Everything okay, Kookie?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. Suddenly, he’s standing in the line at the club’s entrance, and Taehyung stands next to him. “Don’t worry, Jimin just went off to talk to the bouncer. We’ll get in any second now.”

They had a few drinks before coming. The alcohol is bubbling in his blood like soda, he feels dizzy. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea – oh, he’s regretting it now. So, so much.

His friend stares at him. “You look pale.”

“It’s just the lighting,” Jungkook rushes to say, shrugging.

“Whatever.”

And Taehyung turns around.

Jimin comes back barely a few minutes later, holding a drink and waving at them on his way. With a cheerful call, he collects them and leads them to the entrance, where the bouncer nods and steps back to let them in.

“Good thing your dad knows the owner!” Jungkook exclaims as they walk into the club, but his voice is muffled by the loud music.

He was saying it to cheer himself up, so it doesn’t really matter.

They approach the bar, first things first. As soon as they each have a drink in their hand, they will go around looking for some fun or, at least, better music to dance to. Maybe the floors underground will satisfy them, or perhaps the roof terrace where the cocktails are better.

It was weird at first, hanging out with rich people. Jungkook was expecting to spend his freshman nights out at shabby clubs – which he’s had his fair share of, to be honest – but was surprised with fancy premises and colourful drinks. You’d always complain about what he had never had the courage, saying that you felt out of place surrounded by snobby folks.

The way his head spins as the crowd engulfs him makes him realise that, perhaps, he’s had a few more drinks at Jimin’s place than he had initially planned.

“God, I wanna dance, but the music is so… ugh.” Jimin comes back to him and rests his back against the column. “Don’t you agree with me, Kookie? Can we go somewhere else?”

“What!”

Jimin rolls his eyes and yells, “I said, can we go somewhere else?”

“Where’s Tae?” he asks.

“Necking someone, I guess. Come on, let’s move! Everyone is, like, in their thirties or balding here.”

“Already…?”

The roof terrace is their next destination. There are more people on the dance floor, swinging their hips and singing along to the music. They’re younger too, Jimin notices. At least he doesn’t feel like he died and went to hell.

“Hey, hyung, I—” Jungkook turns around as soon as he has received the drink from the barman only to suddenly find himself alone in the middle of the club. Jimin’s red outfit slowly vanishes into the dance floor crowd. After that, well, he’s completely alone. “Fuck, they always do this to me, shit.”

With a sigh of resignation, Jungkook takes the first sip of his edulcorated drink.

He’s dully checking out the rooftop when a bunch of girls catches his attention; they’re eying him, giggling and harping each other with the shoulder.

Jungkook watches how one of them eventually walks up to him with a shiny smile. She flaunts her shoulders as she approaches, quite charmingly. By the time the girl gets there, Jungkook is already sweating with anxiety; no, this was not a good idea at all. He’s regretting it already.

“Hey!” she exclaims, trying to get herself through the loud music blasting in their ears. “Saw your friend leaving! Poor thing.”

The conversation doesn't last long – a ‘hello, do you study or work, where do you study, have you come with more friends, my girlfriends are single too, what are you drinking’ – until the girl, whose name Jungkook didn’t quite catch on because of the loud music, proposes to move it to a quieter place. He follows her, not quite sure what’s going on anymore.

They spot a bench on the other side of the roof terrace, where the music is muffled, and the air is cooler.

She takes a sit. “Yeah, this is way better, thank you. Anyways, so, Jungkook… I guess you don’t have a girlfriend, right?” the girl jokes with a giggle.

Jungkook stares at her in silence first. For a few long, awkward seconds. His eyes seem to blank, it looks like nothing crosses his mind, and the words can’t come out of his mouth. A second later, though, the first sob breaks through his chest.

“Oh, shit, I—”

At the bewildered look of the poor girl, who inwardly can’t stop cursing her bad luck in her choice of potential flings, he begins to cry with his face buried in his hands. She pats his back with a grimace as Jungkook leans forward on the bench, trying to comfort him. After a few more broken sobs, he finally manages to sit up again.

“She… fuck.” Jungkook wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “She cheated on me with her ex.”

“Damn— I mean, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Never mind.”

The girl picks up her glass from the floor and takes a long sip with a blank stare. Honestly, all her friends are in the most obnoxious mood tonight. She had hoped that a date for the evening would keep her entertained, or at least take her away from the boring conversation of her friends, talking about the same thing all the time. She was wrong. The least this Jungkook guy can do is to thoroughly take her through all the drama, and she will pretend she cares enough to give him her advice.

She glances at him as naturally as she can manage. “You can tell me if you want. It’ll do you good to get it off your chest.”

With a dramatic head turn, Jungkook doesn’t play hard to get and starts telling her everything; from how you met, all the way through the bet, and finally, the evening he found you in the room with Kim Seokjin.

“Talk things out with her!” she blurts out, making him flinch. “God, I can’t believe you just ran away without making sure it wasn’t a misunderstanding. And, of course, her ex was there to comfort her, Jesus. I’m pretty sure you fucked things up yourself—”

“There wasn’t much chance of misunderstanding—”

The girl rolls her eyes and gulps down her drink. “You men can be so stupid, really.”

“Hey!” Jungkook whines.

“What?”

“You…!” Jungkook frowns at her, pressing his lips together. There are still tears drying up on his cheeks, and his eyes sting with the threat of more of them. “You don’t know anything! You have no fucking idea!”

“Well, dude, I can see why she dumped you.” The girl finally gets up and walks away, but he only glances at her when she grunts, “Fucking asshole…”

Jungkook sits on the bench like a pathetic loser until the next time he raises his arm to drink he realises that his glass is empty. Since Jimin and Taehyung aren’t here to get him another one, and a drink in a place like this would cost half his allowance, he decides to get up and walk back to the dorms. First, of course, he writes a message saying goodbye in case, by chance, at some point in the night, either of them realises that he’s not there.

“Shit, shit, shit…”

You race down the stairs to the ground floor, backpack tightly hugged between your arms so that it doesn’t fly away. Your throat is dry, your chest is burning, and the back of your neck is covered with sweat from the effort, but you will make it; you will not be late.

Just as the clock strikes two minutes to twelve, you skid in front of the plastic door.

As you try to get in, however, someone pushes the door against you, and you have to step back for the safety of your face.

“Ah, Y/N, sorry!” one of the students says. “Didn’t see you there.”

“No biggie… Why is everybody leaving?”

Another girl, Nayeon, shrugs. “Doctor Lee has come down with something, so there’s no class today. We’re going to the cafeteria to grab a bite, wanna come with us?”

“Sure.”

As you walk down the hall, Nayeon gets closer to your side, making you raise your eyebrows. She just smiles and waits until the rest of the group is engrossed in a new conversation before finally talking:

“So, did you hear the rumours?” she whispers.

You shake your head. “Uh, no.”

“Do you want me to tell you?” Nayeon looks conflicted all of a sudden. “It may upset you.”

“Is this about Jungkook?”

“Yeah.”

Knew it.

With a snort, you stand in the middle of the corridor as the others, unaware, walk away. “Okay, let’s hear it. What did he do this time?”

“Apparently, Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook went out the other day, and he hooked up with a girl,” Nayeon says quietly, watching how your face loses all colour. “So, I guess it makes you guys, uh… officially unofficial? I always hoped it was just a rough patch and that you would get back together, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you murmur and keep going to catch up.

Don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry. Not in front of everyone, not now that you’re finally aware of the way their curious eyes fix on you.

Whatever is going on with Jungkook, it seems like he’s set his mind on it. From now on, it’s not just a crisis or a ‘rough patch’, you’re officially broken. It’s just crazy that you still don’t know what horrible deed you’ve done to make up his mind.

You pick up the tray and go to take a seat next to Nayeon. Like a swift shadow, Soobin appears out of nowhere and sits on your other side. You can’t help letting out a tired sigh.

“How are you, noona?”

“Hungry,” you simply respond, bringing the chopsticks to your lips.

Soobin laughs. “Want some of mine, then? We could share.” Without waiting for your answer, he rushes to put some of his sliced pork on your tray. “There, you can take as much as you want—”

“Listen, Soobin…”

The boy stops right away at your serious tone and stares into your firm eyes with a gulp, expectant.

“Yeah?”

Today, tired and heartbroken, you don’t have the patience to put up with the boy and his shenanigans. Maybe you should have had this conversation a long, long time ago, but only now do you realise it. You’re not angry at him or irritated, just worn out.

“You’re a good guy, and I know what you’re trying to do when you do stuff like this,” you continue, this time more gently as you lean into him. “But… I’m not interested, okay?” His eyes darken all of a sudden, and your heart shrinks in pity. “You’re out of line most of the time. And whether I’m dating someone or not doesn’t change that, all right?”

“Even when he slept with someone else?��

You raise your head, eyes wide open totally astounded. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t you want revenge? He already hates me,” Soobin explains. “But only if you and Jin-hyung are not serious, of course… Or am I out of line now too?”

“So far away from it you can’t even see it, so it seems,” you reply with an unbelieving laugh, already getting up.

You stare at Soobin for a second before you walk away; he looks certain and confident about the conversation. Maybe because he still believes he ever had a chance, but there’s something else, something about him that you can’t quite get yet. Does he, though? Does he not?

With a sigh, you take out your phone.

[Monday, 12:42 AM] You: We need to talk.

[Monday, 12:42 AM] You: Where are you? Are you on campus?

[Monday, 12:45 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: Just about to leave class, why? What happened?

[Monday, 12:49 AM] You: I think it’s time we talk things out.

[Monday, 12:49 AM] You: Also, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest.

[Monday, 12:50 AM] You: Could you do that for me?

A group of students pass by you, and among them you see Jungkook. He seems to be doing very well, you’ve never seen him make new friends before. Maybe the idea you had of him was quite wrong; maybe Soobin was right all along. Be that as it may, you first want to make sure that the rumours are true. Not just because you find it odd, but because something inside you refuses to believe it.

[Monday, 12:56 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: Sure, see you in ten minutes in Kang’s lecture hall, after everyone has left.

[Monday, 12:58 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: It’s good to talk to you again :)

You don’t reply to his last texts. Instead, you walk down the corridor and go upstairs to wait by the door. There’s ruckus coming from the other side already, so your guess is that everyone is already collecting their things to leave.

Jimin, who is still standing on the treads, bows to his professor as the old man walks out, and you greet him with a polite nod of your head.

“Hey.”

You leave your backpack on the desk behind him. “Hey.”

“Good to see you,” he murmurs, looking up at you before you sit down. “How’s it going?”

“Did Jungkook really sleep with another girl?”

For some reason, Jimin did not expect any other question than this. The fact that Jungkook went around spreading the rumour doesn’t help either, but he has his hands tied on the matter; his friend doesn’t listen to him anymore.

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?” Jimin asks then.

You sigh. “The short one.”

“No, he did not.”

“Hm…” Frowning, you cross your arms, totally taken aback. “What’s the long one, then?”

Eyes looking down at his palms, the boy takes a deep breath. Maybe this is a breaking point, and he probably shouldn’t be talking about this. If this changes your mind about Jungkook, he will hate him forever. But if this helps you open your eyes to the situation, well, then Jimin will be happy – he just wants you two to be happy, together or not. And you deserve to know the truth.

“He didn’t, but he came close,” he explains. “At some point, the girl asked him if he had a girlfriend and Jungkookie burst into tears. Then he whined a bit about you, she comforted him, and the last thing I heard was the girl calling him an asshole.”

You gulp down, your stomach churning. Suddenly you feel out of breath. “So, he didn’t do it, but he tried to.”

“Well, yeah?” Jimin scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting on the chair. “It was kind of his idea to go out and sleep around, but he just can’t.”

“So, he’s really going around trying to get into the pants of every girl he sees?”

“Why are you mad? He couldn’t do it! That’s— that’s good! It means he’s not over you yet,” he tries to comfort you as he kneels in front of you. “If it affects you so much, why did you choose Seokjin-hyung over him?”

You uncover your conflicted face. “If it ‘affects me’ so much…? I’m— what?”

“You sound jealous.”

That’s the last straw. With a spasm, you begin to cry, shrinking in your chair. Jimin freezes until he comes back to his senses and takes your hands, stroking them with his thumbs.

“How is ‘jealous’ the first word you could think of? How could I not be jealous?” you cry out.

“But you broke up with Kookie, didn’t you?” he murmurs, voice lower and lower. “You have no right to be.”

Suddenly calm, you let go of his hands. “Uh, yeah, that’s another thing I wanted to ask! Could someone please tell me when I broke up with him? Because, as far as I can remember, neither of us has ever sat down to talk about breaking up. He just… ghosted me.”

“But he says— he says you did. You dumped him for Jin-hyung, he heard you.”

You frown and look away as you try to find some logic. Is it an excuse? But you were doing great before finding out about the bet, so it couldn’t be that. You may be a depressive bitch, but his affection towards you seemed genuine… or not? Could this be just his long-term revenge for how bad you treated him in the past? But then, why would he crumble down instead of hooking up with that stranger? Maybe Jimin is lying.

“Are you lying?”

“Why would I?” Jimin replies with a scoff. “Jungkook begged me not to tell anyone. I’m telling you because someone has to seal up this fucking drama.”

Okay, if Jungkook did all of this out of pure convincement that you really dumped him for Seokjin, how the fuck did he come to that shitty conclusion? It couldn’t be Jin himself; you know him well enough. Maybe someone from the team? But Jungkook couldn’t be convinced like that in one day.

“I don’t know why, but Jungkook thinks I cheated on him with Seokjin, is that it?” you sum up.

“He says he heard you,” Jimin explains, sitting back on his chair. “And after what he had been hearing in the club ever since Jin-hyung came back, and knowing what he’s like, it’s no wonder that’s the conclusion he came to.”

“Sounds a bit extreme to me.”

Jimin shrugs. “Look, whatever Jungkook heard, it made him believe that you cheated on him and dumped him for your ex.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck. Seokjin’s visit, that must be it. The noise from the entrance, the door closing. You contemplated the possibility that it was Jungkook, but now that you think of it— without context, it was a weird conversation. But it’s not like he caught you doing anything wrong either, right? It’s his problem for not asking. And besides, he didn’t bother to try to solve the problem either, he just ran away whining – like he always does.

You get up and put your backpack on your shoulder as you thank Jimin for giving up so much of his precious time to answer all your questions. At least now you have a clear view of what happened.

Jimin gets up with you. “I think you should talk to him. He must be on his way to practice.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“But you’re still together! That’s great!” he exclaims.

“After he tried to sleep with another girl?” you ask coldly, arching an eyebrow. “No, thanks. She can keep him.”

And you walk out of the classroom, hoping that the warm feeling in your chest will die soon. At least before you have to kill it yourself.

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

#sub!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #sub!bts #sub jungkook #sub bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook college au #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook x noona #mommy kink #noona kink

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altoace · 10 months

Text

Part 2 of me finally using the incorrect quotes I have saved.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Kitty, banging on door: Rogue, open up!

Rogue: It all started when I was a kid…

Kitty: No, I meant—

Kurt: Let her finish.

— — — — —

Kitty: What is toothpaste, if not bone soup?

Rogue: Existence is a prison and being your friend is maximum security.

— — — — —

Amara: What was it like living with the Brotherhood?

Tabitha: Imagine living with completely civilized, responsible, mature people.

Amara: Okay.

Tabitha: Now throw that idea out the window.

— — — — —

Mystique: You’re standing on thin ice.

Tabitha: I’m standing on the floor.

Mystique: It’s an expression.

Tabitha: It’s a carpet.

— — — — —

Kurt: Where there is smoke, there is a fire. And where there is a fire, there is probably Tabitha.

— — — — —

*during Joyride*

Scott: That was a very successful mission.

Kitty: But we lost Lance back there!

Rogue: Yes, a very successful mission.

— — — — —

Rogue: I have 98 problems.

Kitty: The song is 99 Problems.

Rogue: I try to talk to you about my problems, and you want to talk about a song?

Kitty:

— — — — —

Kitty: What if I press the break and gas at the same time?

Evan: The car takes a screenshot.

Scott: For the last time, get the fuck out!

— — — — —

Kurt: What’s it like being tall?

Kurt: Is it nice?

Kurt: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Scott: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table, and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Kitty: It was one time!

— — — — —

Pietro: Someone is after me, and I have no idea who.

Lance: Do you have any suspects?

Pietro: No, it could be anyone.

Lance: It couldn’t be anyone; it would have to be someone you’ve upset.

Pietro:

Lance:

Lance: Actually, you’re right — it could be anyone.

— — — — —

Todd: {swings bat at Kurt, but misses}

Kurt: Strike one.

Todd: That’s not how this works!

Todd: {swings and misses again}

Kurt: Strike two. One more and you’re out.

Todd, under his breath: Fuck.

— — — — —

Kurt: Just be yourself; say something nice!

Rogue: Which one? I can’t do both.

— — — — —

Logan, smugly: When I was your age—

Scott: When I was your height.

Logan:

Logan: Now listen here, you little shit—

— — — — —

Kitty, Kurt, and Evan: What would you say if we did this thing?

Scott: Do not!! Do not do that!

Kitty, Kurt, and Evan:

Kitty, Kurt, and Evan: What would you say if we did this thing twenty minutes ago?

— — — — —

Scott: I just felt a burst of energy, and I think it’s my body’s last hurrah before it shuts down completely.

— — — — —

Kitty: I’d roast you, but Scott says you can’t burn trash.

Kitty: {slow-mo walks out of the room}

— — — — —

Kurt: When’s the last time you slept?

Scott: Uh…a few days ago, I think.

Kurt: A few—how many?!

Scott: Uh…{starts counting on fingers}…I need more fingers.

Kurt: What you need is sleep!

— — — — —

Kurt: Rogue punched me earlier and gave me a bruise.

Evan: Congrats, you have a sibling.

Kurt: Wow, I feel so inspired and comforted right now.

Evan: You probably had it coming.

Kurt: Okay, yeah, probably.

— — — — —

Kitty: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail.

Lance: No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have used my one phone call to prank call the police.

— — — — —

Rogue: Self-defense tip!

Rogue: Always carry a fork with you.

Rogue: If someone tries attacking you, take it out and shout “LORD THANK YOU FOR THIS MEAL” before maniacally running at them.

Rogue: Works every time.

— — — — —

Pietro: If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands!

Wanda:

Wanda: {slaps him two times instead}

— — — — —

Rogue, wearing Scott’s shades: How do I look?

Scott, eyes closed: I have no idea.

— — — — —

Pietro: Can I sit on your lap?

Lance, glaring: I fucking dare you.

Pietro: Now this, this is where my life peaks, possibly where it ends, HOWEVER—

— — — — —

Reporter: Currently, four teenagers are hanging off of a three-story building! They look like they’re about to fall at any moment!

Logan, sitting at the table with Ororo, eating breakfast: Man, there are reckless idiots out this early?

*the TV shows a shot of Rogue, Scott, Kurt, and Evan hanging from the edge of the building; Jean and Kitty can slightly be seen standing on the street in front of the building, clearly worried; Scott is having Evan and Kurt hold on to his arms, and Rogue is flipping off the camera*

Ororo: {spits out her tea}

Logan, wide-eyed: Oh man…those are our idiots!

#x men #xmen evolution #x men evolution #rogue #kitty pryde #kurt wagner #scott summers #evan daniels #tabitha smith #amara aquilla #logan howlett #lance alvers #pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff #todd tolansky #I love these dumb children dearly #the rogue self-defense one is definitely my favorite #I laugh every time I read it #incorrect xmen quotes

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sirowsky-stories · 7 months

Text

The Old Prince

Part 3

Author's Note: I'm truly proud of this one, I love how it came together and I'm so excited to keep going! (I haven't forgotten about Collision, I'm just slightly addicted to Oberyn right now. You're just gonna have to forgive me.)

Description: Oberyn works to uncover the mystery of your survival, but when the time comes to go home, you find yourself conflicted.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, AU fic, eventual romance, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses, reader gets a nickname, this one is mostly Oberyn's pov and he thinks a bit more old-fashioned. Small time jump. Angst. Word Count: 5740 Author's Masterlist

His fingers are deft and practiced as he draws samples of your blood, but the silence between you is awkward, and you’re not sure why. Maybe because of how shocked he’d been at your embrace earlier. It makes you wonder how long it’s been since he was touched by someone. Even just platonically. You’d been too distressed to notice your own reaction to him this time, but it had been there once you’d pulled back. The same inexplicable heat.

“How much do you need?” you ask, mostly just to break the tension.

“Four vials should do for now,” he replies in a tone much more neutral than what fits with his expression.

“I’m sorry about… before,” you try, but he doesn’t get the vague reference.

He looks up and meets your eyes with a silent question in his brows.

“The hug,” you elaborate, averting your gaze before the two small words have even finished leaving your lips.

You’re not really ashamed to have needed comfort, that much no one would judge you for after the last twenty-four hours of your life. What bothers you is that you don’t understand why you felt safe to seek it from him. No matter who (or what) he is, you shouldn’t be this at ease around him, it goes against every grain of reason and common sense. The man is holding you against your will.

“Don’t apologize to me, young one. I have you at a terrible disadvantage,” he says, and he sounds entirely unamused by his own words.

“Okay, can you start calling me something other than that, please. No matter how much older than me you might be, it sounds so wrong when someone who looks to be my age calls me that. It makes me feel like a schoolgirl.”

He looks somewhat perplexed at that.

“What would you prefer?”

“I don’t know, just make up a nickname for me that has nothing to do with age. I’d tell you my real name, but you have enough power over me already.”

Finishing up the blood-draw and placing a small band aid on the punctured skin, he seems to ponder that, and something about it amuses him.

“How about Kaivalya? It means freedom,” he suggests, and you raise a brow in scrutiny.

It’s a mouthful, but kinda beautiful too. Still, if he’s gonna name you something with that implication, he’d better own up to it.

“I’ll consider that a promise.”

“As intended,” he agrees, smiling slightly while he inclines his head at you in a little bow.

Why does that tiny indication that he respects you, make your stomach flutter?

“Let’s shorten it to Valya or Val, though,” you suggest, trying to kill the highly inappropriate butterflies with bland conversation. “The whole thing is too cumbersome.”

“Well then, you’re all done for now, Valya. Thank you.”

“How long do you think it’ll take to analyze it?”

“That’s hard to say. It all depends on what I find,” he says and then gets up to put three of the vials into a fridge, leaving one for him to get started on right away. “But you have my word that I will keep you informed. Until then, as I said, you move around the castle at your own risk.”

“Will the dragon come back?” you ask, only slightly less frightened of the prospect, now that you know that he has some sort of relationship with it.

“Yes. But not for a while yet.”

“How do you know?”

“He brought you here after he had tried to feed on you and failed. And he stayed for a while to find out if you would mutate, after noticing that it had not happened as quickly as it usually does. But he had still not fed, so he had to hunt again. That’s why you saw him leave the castle. He was successful this time, though. Which means he’ll be laying low for a while now.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize that he was the one who’d brought me here. But I guess that makes sense. Dragons fly, after all,” you ponder, and you’re starting to feel quite ambiguous about this beast.

On the one hand, it tried to eat you, but on the other, it also tried to help you.

“If something should happen… I mean, if I should start to feel strange or anything, how do I call for help?” you continue after a moment.

“Scream as loud as you can for as long as you can. If your door is open and you’re facing the stairwell, the sound will travel with the stone. But I really don’t think that you’re at any risk of that kind of mutation, at this point.”

“I hope you’re right, and I’m sure you are, I’m just trying to navigate being here. You are keeping me furthest away from absolutely everything, which seems kinda unnecessary. Wouldn’t it be easier if I just stayed somewhere down here?”

“I’m not keeping you away from everything, I am trying to keep everything away from you. You’re safe up there, where the pull from the creatures in the basement cannot possibly reach you, and nothing else is going to find you,” he explains, while he works on taking a first look at your blood through a microscope.

For a second, you wonder what the hell he means by “nothing else finding you”, but you quickly decide that you don’t wanna think too closely on that. You get up and start slowly moving towards the door of this makeshift little laboratory of his, somewhere on the second floor of the main body of the castle.

“Okay, um… Before I go, is there any food?”

“Of course,” he answers immediately, looking up from the microscope with an apologetic set to his features, as if only just now realizing that you do need food to survive. “The kitchen is at the end of the main hall. That’s the same corridor as the one to my study and the main stairwell you take to get to the tower. Just follow it to the end. Do you think you can find it?”

“Yeah, I think so. That’s the one hallway I’m beginning to feel familiar with.”

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

What he had hoped would only take a few days, remains unsolved even after two weeks. He is not skilled enough in genetics, nor does he have the right equipment to try and find anomalies within your DNA. All he can do is visually analyze your cells and the levels of vitamins and minerals in your blood, hoping to find something deviant, as that might indicate where changes have been, or still is, taking place. But he has yet to succeed. Thus far, every test has come back normal.

If not for the extremely rapid healing of the bite, he would not have thought that anything about you had been affected, but clearly, something has been. By rights he should take your samples to a lab and ask that they run a full diagnostic on it with more advanced technology, but he’s afraid that they might discover something about his own genetics, and the thing within him that is responsible for so much death and suffering.

He has spent thousands of years trying to avoid humans as much as possible, and to do that, he has had to study their psychology rigorously, so he knows what they would do if they ever learned what he is and what he is capable of. The few sightings of him that have occurred over the millennia, have generated an entire mythology surrounding dragons, and he would much prefer that it remains nothing but stories.

Still, to his astonishment, you seem to tolerate him quite a lot better than one might think that a victim of assault and kidnapping might. After that first tumultuous day, you have apparently decided that things could be a lot worse, choosing to focus instead on the fact that you are alive and doing very well, despite the worry of mutation. You insist that he join you for dinner every evening, to keep yourself from going stir crazy with isolation, and he finds that he is increasingly intrigued by your character.

You are kind and considerate, but only when you feel that it’s justified. You like to be useful and you’re clearly accustomed to handling yourself and whatever problems you face, but you will ask for help if you come across a task that is too difficult for you. Pride seems to be something you take only from knowing your own strength, not necessarily needing to show or prove it to anyone else. Which is an attractive trait for anyone to have, but especially someone so attractive in other ways as well.

The monster that he is, he has always refused to take a partner, for fear that he would end up eating them and then having to live with that regret. You are the first woman to test his resolve in this matter for at least two thousand years. Before then, he had still tried to hope that he might not have to live all alone for eternity. A hope that had died for good after he had turned a young woman into a creature like those in the belly of this castle right now, forever poisoning him away from the allure of the fairer sex.

Or so he had thought.

There are moments when he is around you, when your gaze seems to shift into something warm and inviting, sparking a heat within his chest the likes of which he has never before known. It sets a blush to his usually so tempered skin and triggers a craving in his blood that has nothing to do with sustenance. It is a frightening feeling to him, something forbidden and dangerous, so he tries to quell it whenever it awakens, but he knows that you notice it and that it makes you curious.

Today, he awaits your arrival at the dinner table, ready to finally announce the results of his efforts, but he knows that they are unsatisfactory. He has failed to provide the answers that you seek, that you might need in order to lay these horrible events to rest in your soul, and this shames him. So, when you walk in, smiling at the sight of him having beaten you to the table once again, he does not reciprocate, and you’re instantly on edge.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, as you take your seat opposite him at the narrow table, and you look more worried now than he’s seen you be since that first night.

“I have reached the end of my knowledge in my analysis of your blood. I can’t learn anything more than I already have, which, as you know, is unfortunately not much. You have my sincerest apologies, dear Valya, but I’m afraid that I have no concrete answers to show for it,” he explains, bowing his head to you in the hopes that you will be forgiving.

Even though you know nothing of the transformation which he may undergo at will, and which is the worst deception he has yet committed against you, there is still more than enough cause for you to despise him. But instead, your eyes soften at his words.

“Maybe that’s good news. Maybe it means that there’s nothing wrong with me,” you shrug, and he wants to say that to his eyes, there is absolutely nothing wrong with any part of you.

But he refrains. Flattery will not do your impressive character justice, and he has every intention of protecting you from his own misguided heart, no matter the pain it might cause him. Fifteen days. That is all he has had of you, and yet, you seem to have crept into every carefully concealed crevice of his being, entirely without effort.

“I’ll bring you back to your home later tonight,” he replies, unable to fully mask the sadness that the thought of the castle once again echoing of emptiness, brings him.

He is, however, most surprised to look into your eyes and see that same sadness within. Surely, you can’t be sorry to finally be free of this haunted and terrible place.

“Why tonight?” you question, and even that smallest hint of defiance is enough to make him want to change his mind and ask you to stay.

“I kidnapped you. And while I’m not proud of this, I wish to remain a free man despite my actions. So, I can’t very well return you in broad daylight, as anyone who sees us might grow suspicious,” he says, the last part being yet another lie.

The real reason is that he needs the cover of night to conceal the span of his wings, the glimmer of his scales, and the size of his claws and teeth.

“Right, of course,” you say quietly, turning your gaze back down to your plate, before you remember to add something, and look up once more. “And just to ease your mind, I’m not gonna report you to the police, or anything. You may have kidnapped me, but you haven’t mistreated me in any way. Quite the opposite, really. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so well cared for.”

He lets his head fall slightly to the side as he considers your words, but your own resolve seems to falter then, and you return your attention to the dish before you. Either to avoid his gaze, or perhaps the thought that you will likely never see him again once this night is over. The meal passes in silence and the clock seems to spin so much faster than usual, as though time itself is rushing to end this unnatural coupling.

“It has been my pleasure to have your company in these weeks, Val. It’s been a long time since I had company for so long. Aside from the living nightmares of the basement, that is,” he tells you, already dreading the rapidly approaching goodbye.

“I don’t like to leave knowing that you’ll be all alone here,” you reply, surprising him.

He wants to say that you may visit him at any time, but he holds his tongue, offering only a grateful smile in return. Because aside from the fact that you don’t know where the castle is, he also desperately wants you to be free of him. Even if his lonely heart screams entirely different things through the dungeons and catacombs of his being, to which he has condemned all thoughts of romance and passion.

“We should get ready for your departure,” he says softly, sidestepping your concerns as gracefully as he can, before he rises and steps away from the table, gesturing for you to accompany him.

You follow without protest, and a part of him wishes that you would rage against the lack of choices you have been afforded. But he is also relieved that you don’t. There are no possessions to pack, you will leave his house as poor as you entered it, save for the clothes he has given you, so there’s no need to delay. He brings you back to the lab where he already has a syringe filled and waiting.

“Please, don’t be alarmed,” he asks when he sees your expression turn wary with the sight of the unknown clear substance behind the needle. “It’s a strong sedative. I’m afraid I cannot let you see the journey back, as this place needs to remain as hidden as it can be.”

“Oh…” is all you say, but the sadness in your eyes grows deeper with the realization that you will never be able to return.

You step closer while shrugging of your jacket, the garment returned to you already on your third day here, as he had learned by then that you would not run from the answers you sought. There is no hesitation or questioning in your frame. You roll up your sleeve, trusting this stranger not to kill you, or cause you harm in other ways, and he wishes so dearly that you had never crossed his path that night, so that he could have been spared this ending.

“It will only take you a few minutes to fall asleep once the injection is done. But you may start to feel unsteady within seconds, so I suggest you take a seat,” he cautions.

Defiant on this matter, for reasons which evade his understanding, you remain on your feet, holding out your arm as you wait for the unknown substance to be administered into your blood. He is not going to fight you, so he merely gives you the injection and then quickly puts the syringe away, preparing to catch you if you should grow dizzy.

But the moment that he steps closer to you, so that he may reach you should he need to react quickly, you raise your hands to his shoulders, holding him steady as you steal a kiss from his lips. It’s brief, but not rushed. Your lips are soft and the pressure moderate, but there is curiosity and desire within the touch. A wish, perhaps. Much like the one that burns his own chest and is responsible for how he responds to your affectionate gesture, kissing you in return as soon as your lips have left his.

Then your legs wobble, and the moment ends. He catches you, pressing you against his upper body to prevent you from falling, as you already struggle to keep your eyes open. He worries that he might have given you too strong a dose, but he needs you to be completely unaware of the journey back. Only moments later, you are beginning to doze off, but you stubbornly keep your eyes open for as long as you can, as if trying to commit his features to memory.

When you go limp in his arms, the image of your seemingly lifeless body on the ground in that forest, flashes before his waking eyes, and all at once, tears are gathering in them. You should not have suffered such a fate. You should have been spared from ever knowing of these monstrous things, and he can only hope that your paths will never cross again. He swoops your legs up and carries you outside, the strength of the beast making the burden easy to bear despite the distance.

Once out on the courtyard, next to the prancing white horse, so noble and proud, he sets you down and steps away to let the transformation happen. He knows the feeling so well, and yet it never grows any less unsettling. The dragon and him are one and the same, but the beast has a different mindset. A primal and largely thoughtless existence. It knows what the man knows, and if need be, it will think rationally, but that is not its default manner.

It is an animal, still. Despite the many centuries of life that it has shared with the human. It feeds, sleeps and repeats the process as needed, nothing more. And as that mindset takes over, Oberyn fades into the background. Conscious and aware but drowned out by the sensory input of the much larger animal and its superior senses.

However, even the beast is enchanted with you, recognizing your scent at once and having no adverse reaction to it. Instead, he feels only protective over you. He doesn’t think unless he has to, but his heart is no less sensitive within the body of the beast.

He gently picks you up in his front paws, cradling you to his chest for warmth, as his body will remain quite hot regardless of the temperature of the air, the fire within always stoked and ready. Leaning back to rest heavier on his hindlegs, he leaps off the ground. His wings are long, wide and powerful, easily taking up the extra strain as they bear you both into the skies, heading south and away from the snow.

There was a time when all the heavens belonged to him. When he was the largest, fastest, and strongest creature up there. But no more. Now, when he flies, he must always keep a watchful eye on men, as they jump from city to city in their metal birds. Airplanes. What a terrifying way to move, locked in a box, thousands of feet above the ground, having to trust the skills of a complete stranger to operate it. Oberyn will never set foot in such a thing, of that he is most certain.

There is no such obstacle in your way for this journey, however. Concealed by the night, he lands softly in the still green grass on your backyard, before instantly shifting back to his human form, so that he may fit through the door. Your scent around this entire place is so strong that he could sense it even from the air above, so there is no question, he’s found the correct address.

Rounding the little cottage, he finds the front door and shifts you over into his left arm so that he may unlock it. During dinner eight nights ago, you had asked him about your personal belongings, and he had confessed to taking your keys and the small mobile phone which he had found in your pockets, only the first of which he would be able to return to you.

The fire in the ballroom, where you had sat to warm yourself on your first morning in the castle, he had set in order to burn that phone, not trusting even the outdated model to not be traceable somehow. But you had explained that you only had the phone with you for emergencies, as there are many ways to get yourself hurt in the mountains. Beyond that, you do not like to be too reachable, apparently.

You work in a store which specializes in holiday themes, such as Halloween, Christmas and Easter, which is perhaps why these ordinarily festive seasons appear to have lost their charm for you. You had spoken of them only briefly and with a great sense of emptiness. Listening to you, he had often felt a great loneliness behind your words. But perhaps not the obvious kind. Something deeper, to do with unfulfilled dreams, maybe.

It was only when you had spoken of working outdoors, chopping your own wood or tending to your horse or your vegetable garden, that he had seen peacefulness in your frame. You’re not a typical modern person, drawn to various forms of digital media, preferring instead to work with your hands and be rewarded for your efforts with things that are useful to you. Things you can not only see, but touch and experience in real time.

He steps inside, finding a quite large and inviting living room directly to his right, decorated to feel warm and somehow intrinsically you. As well as he knows you, at least. To his left is a small kitchen and straight ahead is a short hallway with two doors on the left. The closest leading to the bath, easily discernable by the smell of scented disinfectants, and the other to your bedroom.

He can sense a lavender fragrance from your sheets. Not the concentrated fabric softener that most people use, which is filled with chemicals, but something natural and clean. Probably your own concoction, created with lavender grown in your own garden. It’s a pleasant fragrance to his sensitive nose, as is most of the scents he feels from this house. Your home.

He brings you to the bedroom and sets you down on top of the covers, noting that your bed is large enough to comfortably accommodate two adults, but then quickly wrenches such thoughts from his mind. You look peaceful in your unconsciousness. Unlike when he had flown you to the castle. You’d been restless then, twitching and trembling as your body had attempted to adjust to whatever foreign process had been taking place within you.

Had he known how wonderous you would turn out to be, how tolerant and kind and patient you are, he might not have been so frightened as he had waited by your bedside, dreading having to watch another mutated monster emerge from another innocent soul. Even if he will never know how you survived, he will forever be grateful to have been given the chance to know you. And… he will greatly miss your company, for however long he may remember you.

He puts a thick quilt over you and steps back to leave, but then decides that there can be no harm in stealing a kiss of your forehead before he walks out of your life entirely. Your skin is exactly as warm as it should be, which feels quite cool against his own, since he runs at a much higher base temperature than humans. Your heartrate is steady and strong, your breathing even and deep, so he feels certain you will recover from the sedation without any problems.

As he walks back through the house, he steps into the living room and over to the fireplace. The autumn chill has found its way into the half-timbered building, and he does not want your first day back to start with you feeling cold. The heat within the dragon’s chest is still there in his human form, so a little huff of superheated air is all it takes to ignite the dry wood. He waits for another minute, just to be sure it will not go out, and then he slips back out into the night, never to return.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

You come around slowly, feeling drowsy and heavy at first, in a more than natural way. Your brain is sluggish, leaving every movement feeling like a mountain climb, but your bladder has woken up and is demanding the rest of you do as well, so you climb. First into sitting, which results in your tumbling forwards out of bed, only just managing not to hit your head against the floor. Then your nerves start to feel more responsive, perhaps with the slight rush of adrenaline at the fear of getting hurt, and you’re able to rise to your feet.

Every step gives you back a little more control, and by the time you’ve reached the bathroom, you don’t need to hold onto the walls anymore. Once done in there, you walk over to the kitchen to run the taps for a few minutes, which ends up being the longest minutes of your life because you’re suddenly absolutely fucking parched.

You down two full glasses and you’re working on filling a third when there’s a knock on the door. Startled, you nearly drop the glass in the sink, because who’s gonna show up here when it’s barely even light out? Who even knows that you’re back already? Irrationally hoping that it might be Oberyn, you walk to the door and open it.

“Good morning, miss,” officer Park of the local police greets you, and you’re momentarily stunned.

Not that it isn’t your much too desired former captor, but that the police would be the first to come knocking. You haven’t had anything to do with them in your life at all, you’ve always been very well behaved. So, naturally, your mind jumps to the thought of crime, wondering if you could’ve committed any without realizing it.

“How nice to see you alive and well. We’ve been looking for you for two weeks and then someone reported seeing smoke rising from your chimney this morning,” the officer helpfully explains, easing your worries, but creating new ones at the same time.

Since you haven’t lit any fire, your gaze is automatically drawn to your right and the brick fireplace at the middle of the far wall, where there is indeed a fading flame. He must’ve lit it before he left, to make sure that the house wouldn’t be too cold when you woke up, and the thought tugs at something both painful and wonderful within your gut. No one has ever shown you that kind of consideration.

But you’d expected to have at least a few hours to come up with a plausible story to tell anyone who asks where you’ve been, not being slapped in the face with it the first damned thing after you’ve woken up. Of course, you have played with an idea or two, loosely, while still at the castle, but not enough to have a solid plan ready and waiting.

“Yeah, um… I’m sorry that you’ve wasted your resources on me. I fell off my horse in the dark and ended up getting completely lost during the storm. By the time daylight broke on the next day, I couldn’t recognize anything. Has anyone found my horse, Casper?” you ask, hoping to buy a few seconds to think but also genuinely worried about what happened to him.

“He came right back here, safe and sound. We found him grazing in the backyard when we came to check on you after you hadn’t showed up for work the next day and no one could reach you. He’s over at the Mackey farm.”

“Oh, great, thank you so much.”

“Sure. But I’m a bit confused,” the officer starts, clearly wanting to bring the topic back to you, so you try to stay cool and think fast. “If you’ve been lost in the woods for two weeks, I’d expect to find you in a lesser state. Honestly, miss… you look fresh enough to have just came from a beauty salon.”

Shit. You haven’t looked in a mirror, so you have no idea how you might look, but you do know that you definitely don’t look starved or dirty enough to have been living rough for that long.

“Actually, I was helped by a stranger, if you can believe it,” you say, deciding to weave as much truth as you dare into this lie. “After several days of wandering in the wrong direction, he found me and let me stay with him for a bit. And once I was fully recovered, he brought me back here. It was a long trek, which is why I didn’t get back until the middle of the night.”

“This guy have a name?” Park challenges, years of experience making him skeptical of such an unbelievable story.

“No. I mean, I assume he does, but we didn’t exchange names. I just called him the good Samaritan.”

“He saved your life, and you didn’t ask for his name?” the officer asks, raising his brows in disbelief, but you’re not even really lying about this.

After all, he’d said that his name is Oberyn, and you don’t think that he made that up, but you also remember him telling you that he doesn’t recall his own mother’s name, so there’s every chance that it’s just a name he’s heard at some point over the years and liked the sound of it enough to take it for himself. And if he’s as old as you were made to believe, then his identity is highly unlikely to exist in any records anywhere in the world anyway.

“He’s a recluse and a hermit who’s put himself as far away from people as he can get. Saving me was an inconvenience to him, but he still did it. He didn’t want to tell me his name because he doesn’t want anyone to come looking for him, so please, let him be.”

You keep your tone a bit sharper for that part, to let the officer know that you have no intention of helping him pursue that lead, and he seems to get the message.

“Alright, well… so long as you’re sure everything’s okay with you.”

“Yes, sir. I am very grateful for your efforts, and again, I’m sorry that it was all for nothing, but I’m fine.”

He nods politely, somewhat gruffly wishing you a good day, and then he leaves. You close the door, exhaling deeply in relief that you managed not to panic. But then his words about you looking like you could’ve just walked out of a beauty salon pop up in your mind, and you head back to the bathroom. There were no mirrors in the castle, at least none that you saw, so when you now see your own reflection in the one over your sink, you momentarily lose your breath.

The wrinkles around your eyes and mouth have smoothed out. In fact, there isn’t a single visible flaw to your skin. And… has the color of your eyes shifted slightly? Your hair is both shinier and much less damaged overall, and it seems to have changed color. Not drastically, but the tone is fuller, richer, and the shine has a distinct shade of orange, which is far from what it’s ever been close to before. Even your teeth have been altered. Each one sitting perfectly aligned and each one apparently now flawless in shape and size.

“The bite…” you whisper to yourself.

The mutation which had turned those creatures in the basement into the worst things ever concocted for a horror story, seems to have turned you into the perfect version of yourself. Just like Oberyn has looked to your eyes, ever since you first saw him. Oh, god… Does that mean you’re becoming whatever he is? But no, that makes no sense, it was the dragon that bit you, not Oberyn.

For a moment, the room disappears, as your brain is suddenly laying a puzzle you didn’t even know existed, and a series of images are displayed before your eyes. The green coat, exactly the same color as the scales. The golden embroideries on the cuffs and lapels, in the exact same shape as a classically depicted serpentine dragon. And when he’d talked about humans, he’d used the words “them” and “you” instead of “us”. He’d even said that he was tethered to the dragon…

You droop to the floor as the unthinkable becomes an inescapable truth, gasping for air while you try to find rationalizations, anything that could make it explainable in some other way, but it all fits too well to be coincidence. You probably put these pieces together even from the start, but chose not to see them because you liked him. Because he was sweet and kind.

But he’s a monster. A viper lurking in the dark. It was all a lie.

Part 4

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you wish to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

@joelswritingmistress @pedrostories

#oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones au #modern!au #halloween writing #spooky season fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories

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skatingbi · 5 months

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Yeah im...gonna expand on my Ace lives AU more bc im drinking that good ole copium :')

Too lazy to make this gramatically correct so accept my random word vomit!

At marineford, luffy is screaming for a doctor or literally anyone who can help ace. He knows ace isnt dead, he cant be, because he promised. A brother doesnt break promises. By some miracle, him, ace, and jimbei escape to Law's ship because hes there and a doctor. He offers to help the three of them.

Neither luffy or jimbei question it. They drop in and jimbei, being the least injured, helps law get them to his operating room. Luffy refuses treatment until Ace is at least stable. Law is not nearly willing enough to put up with luffy but he gets to Ace first anyways. After maybe 10 hours (or more, lets face it ace was a fucking mess) Law emerges and says ace is stable enough to where he wont die on the spot. He cant guarantee his survival though.

Thats enough for luffy. The shock and adrenaline from Iva's devil fruit powers catches up shortly after and he passes out.

When Luffy wakes up, its a few weeks later. Ace is still in a coma, but Law guarantees that Ace is stable enough to live through it. He forces them both in recovery by resting, and Jimbei looks after luffy at the request (orders mostly) or Law.

"No extreme activity, strawhat. I mean it. If you open up your wounds again you will die." Law states plainly.

Luffy still runs away. This time its still the same PTSD flashback but with so much more anger. Ace lived but barely. How is he meant to be the pirate king when he's so weak. Thats when Jimbei steps in just like in the canon storyline, telling him how he's clouded by what he cant do and instead needs to focus on what he can do and who else he has with him. Luffy breaks down then, and jimbei lets luffy hold onto him for comfort. He recognizes that he's just a kid. He's been traumatized so much in only a few months and he's figured his childhood was pretty rough and thats added to it as well.

When jimbei talks with law privately about this, law agrees. Theres not much they can do since they dont know luffy well enough, but they give him space to heal while also making sure luffy doesnt hurt himself. Jimbei is tasked with watching luffy, just as he promised ace he'd do.

So lets fast forward a few more weeks and Ace wakes up. Ace is in a lot of pain. Like, a lot. But he reassures luffy he'll get through this. When luffy tells ace whats been going on, his older brother looks so serious and he hasnt seen that look since they were kids.

"Luffy, promise me one thing," Ace says with a firm tone leaving no room for interruption, "Promise me you'll never, and I mean never, hurt yourself like that again." And when ace finishes talking luffy cries again.

"I will, I will, Im so sorry Ace just please dont leave me-" And ace hugs him as best as he can in his condition. Luffy promises. And now ace can rest easy as an older brother.

When luffy goes with Rayleigh, Ace has to stay with law on the ship because he's unable to be relocated. Luffy only relents when ace promises not to get hurt, and law will take care of him. Law tells luffy that ace still wont be able to move much for a long while, maybe even a year. But luffy is okay with that as long as Ace is alive and well. He'll get stronger so he can protect ace just like how ace protected him.

So the timeskip happens. Law drops ace off with luffy and they board boa hancock's ship to go to sabaody archipelago. The entire sequence with the imposter strawhats is kind of the same except for when ace nearly blows his cover to kick their asses but luffy stops him.

"Theyre not worth your time, ace. Plus, I really want you to meet my nakama!" is what he says after he realizes theyre imposters. Ace is stunned by luffy's rare show of maturity and listens. He still complains, though.

When they arrive at the ship Luffy is thrilled to meet his nakama again and i think it'll be fucking hilarious for them to meet ace because what if the military says ace is dead in the newspapers? I mean, theres no way he survived, right? Luffy just took ace's body to bury it. Thats the story they put in the paper and luffy doesnt correct them.

So, the crew are like "hey luffy whos your friend?" and luffy is like "oh thats my brother!" and ace removes the hood of his disguise to wave.

"WHAT!?!" is all thats heard and chaos breaks out. Because what the fuck? Ace is dead??? Or he was but now hes here???

"Nah, they just wrote that because i shouldnt have survived, but here I am!" Ace replies and laughs at the crew's confused and stunned expressions. So when ace says he's sticking around with them, they just nod. Nobody really protests. Its surprising, but they know Ace would die for luffy and they share that sentiment as well.

#I will be writing more.#I need this au to cope #one piece #portgas d ace #monkey d. luffy #ace lives au

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satansapostle6 · 5 months

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Josh Futturman has always had a crush on his beautiful coworker, the sharp, sexy scientist he thought he could only dream of talking to.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Sexual content.

Part Three

Part Four: HR Violations

Never in a million years did Josh Futturman imagine that he’d have someone to flirt and exchange witty banter with at work, let alone that it would be Dr. Johansson. He knew he wasn’t delusional, because even Ray was starting to pick up on it.

It all started in one of the break rooms, when Josh was asked to unclog a toilet in the bathroom nearby. Ray had been minding his business and heating up his lunch in the microwave, when Josh came into the room to wash up after finishing the job. Coincidentally, Brynne Johansson also entered the room, in need of a cup of coffee, as well as to just shamelessly mess with Josh.

It was becoming a fun little game for her, saying and doing all the right things to get Josh all hot and bothered at work. Ray gave Brynne a polite smile as she entered the room, eating his ramen in peace.

“Dr. Johansson,” he greeted her.

She just smiled back as she walked toward the coffee machine, intentionally taking a while to examine it before making her move.

“Josh, do you think you could take a look at this for me?” she asked. “I can’t seem to get it to work.”

This was obviously a lie. Ray shot his friend a curious look.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Josh obliged, glancing nervously at Ray.

He stood beside Brynne, half pretending to take a look at the coffee machine, half genuinely wondering if there was something wrong.

“It doesn’t seem to be heating up,” she said as she fiddled aimlessly with the filter.

“Oh, I see what you’re saying,” Josh lied. playing along as best as he could.

“Yeah… Do you know how to fix it?”

“I think so… I think if you just… flip this, it’ll start heating up again,” he improvised completely. “There. Try it again?”

Brynne turned on the coffee machine like normal, brewing a fresh pot.

“Oh, great, it’s working again,” she bullshitted. “Thanks, Josh, you know I like it hot.”

Josh nearly choked on pure oxygen as she gave him a casual workplace smile, as if nothing had happened, walking out of the break room with a hot cup of coffee as her heels tapped against the floor. Josh’s eyes widened as he turned to Ray, who was equally in shock. He couldn’t deny, Brynne was the first person to ever make him feel like he had something to brag about.

“What the hell?!” he demanded.

“Right?!” Josh exclaimed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to telling you!”

“Sorry, man, you really gotta see it to believe it,” Ray laughed.

“What do I do?!” Josh panicked. “She’s really hot, and I think she’s flirting with me—”

“Alright, now that I’ve actually seen it happen, it’s not a ‘think’ anymore, it’s a ‘know’,” Ray assured him.

“So, what do I do?” he asked hopelessly.

“I don’t know that there’s anything you can do,” Ray admitted, “Just… See if it goes anywhere, I guess.”

“Okay,” Josh breathed, trying to calm himself down, “Okay…”

“Man, that woman is wild.”

*****

“Hey, Elias,” Josh smiled on his way to the elevator as he saw Dr. Kronish walking through the hall.

“Good afternoon, Josh,” the man said pleasantly. “How are you today?”

“Living the dream,” Josh said humorously, fully aware that he was a janitor.

At least now he was able to go home. Upon entering his parents’ house, Josh found that his parents were both in the living room, enjoying their ‘quality time’ together.

“Joshy!” his mother exclaimed happily.

“Welcome home, buddy boo!” his father beamed.

Josh swallowed his embarrassment despite the three of them currently being alone, saying hello to them as he entered the house.

“How was work today?” his father asked him.

“Uh, pretty good,” Josh intentionally left out any specifics or details.

“What did you do today?” his mother inquired. “Come sit with us, I wanna hear all about it.”

Josh grimaced uncomfortably, not even sure what to say as he tentatively sat down with his parents, who has both been reading.

“Uh, the usual, just… cleaning up shits, and mopping floors,” he offered flatly.

Both of his parents chuckled as they listened to him.

“How’s Ray doing?” Gabe Futturman asked kindly.

“Uh, he’s good,” Josh responded, “Yeah, he’s pretty good…”

“Did you talk to anyone else today?” Diane Futturman asked.

Josh felt this was more of an interrogation than a conversation.

“Uh, I saw Dr. Kronish earlier. In the hall,” he said boringly.

“Oh, that’s nice,” his father remarked.

“Ooh, what about that Dr. Johansson you’ve always told us about?” his mother chimed in. “Talk to her at all?”

Josh could’ve sworn his entire face went pale.

“Uh… Yeah. Yeah, we talk sometimes, in passing…”

“Really?!” his mother gasped.

“You never told us you talked to her!” his father exclaimed.

Josh frowned, just then realizing how pathetic the entire conversation made him sound.

“Uh, yeah… Her name’s Brynne. We talk sometimes,” he thought, “Occasionally…”

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” Diane squealed. “You should ask her out! Oh, that would be perfect!”

“Mom, I’m… I’m not asking her out,” Josh frowned.

“But why not?” she questioned. “You know everything about her!”

“Yeah! You know everything she likes, and you know how to make her smile,” his father told him.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m not asking her out,” he pointed out.

“What do you mean, Joshy?” Gabe asked regretfully.

“I mean… She’s a scientist. The head of the research department,” he reminded himself. “Women like that don’t tend to go out with janitors.”

“But what if he’s a sweet, handsome, funny janitor like our Joshy?” she reasoned optimistically.

Josh just sighed, finding the topic more depressing than anything else.

*****

Although Josh got butterflies in his stomach like a teenage girl every time he saw Brynne at work, a part of him also felt sad and rejected every time he saw her, even if she hadn’t even done so yet. As much as he was in awe of how she flirted with him from time to time, he also knew that, more likely than not, he was probably just a source of entertainment for her.

There was no way Dr. Brynne Johansson, the tall, sexy powerhouse, wanted to go out with, or even hook up with, the janitor. There was just no way. His whole life, Josh always had to be realistic when it came to girls; if there was one thing he learned from middle school, it was that you never wanted to be the nerd who asked out the popular girl. And Brynne Johansson was definitely the popular girl at Kronish Labs.

Everyone looked at her like she was an angel walking amongst humans; male, female, gay, straight… It didn’t matter. There was something just unifying about her perfection. Josh was even ready to completely give up on the idea of actually having any sort of shot with Brynne outside of their usual banter, until one afternoon when they both happened to be alone in the elevator together.

Josh tried his best not to blush as she stood beside him, absentmindedly looking at her watch. She was wearing a stunning cream-colored dress that complimented her hair, and he couldn’t help but notice. He also noticed her perfume, which he could only describe as smelling like some sort of love spell.

“Hey, Josh,” Brynne turned to him.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“You smell nice,” she said softly.

His eyes almost bulged out of his head as he realized he’d decided to try out a new cologne to see if she’d like it. Apparently, she did.

“Tha—Thank you,” he nodded, still caught off guard.

“Mhmm.”

She smiled as she got off on her floor as the elevator stopped. Josh waited for the metal doors to close completely before celebrating.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, extremely proud of himself. “Whoo!”

It was safe to say, his confidence was back. He wasn’t sure what this meant, exactly, but he was willing to find out.

Part Five

Part Six

#futureman #future man 2017 #josh futturman x reader #future man x reader #future man #josh futturman #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader

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rainingfishandfrogs · 3 months

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Sailor Moon Thoughts - i know i'm 10yrs late but Crystal's not that bad actually

so i recently got back into sailor moon

grew up on the english dub 90s anime (watch the jpn sub in 9th grade)

had only read the manga once in the past and that was in college; however i just recently bought the first 2 volumes of the collector's edition (just finished V2 actually!)

but this is my first time watching Crystal (mostly bc when it was first coming out there was so much backlash and hate and it made me turn away from it)

now that i've read volumes 1&2 and watched S1 i gotta say...when compared to the manga Crystal's honestly not that bad and i'd say overall pretty faithful

Spoilers for Sailor Moon Crystal!

Usagi and Mamoru

first thing's first! mamoru's age is fixed! fucking yay!

in both the manga and crystal he's a 16yr old 2nd year high school kid! not a 1st year college student dating at 14yr old little girl! he and usagi compliment each other and it really shows in crystal imo

90s-SM fleshes out this couple individually more in the first season and i'm in love with that and they have some really sweet moments and i still ship it ofc i do BUT the age difference got so iffy and squeakable for me when watching again as a grown ass adult!

some of usagi's emotional intelligence is downplayed and she sometimes comes off as even younger than she is and that makes the ship feel uneven and i just keep thinking "there he goes off with his child bride 👋🏽" and it really doesn't help that they animated mamoru looking so much older and acting like a mature 20-something (even tho yes, he's closer to 18 but an 18yr old dating a 14yr old is still so squeakable to me)

the manga is where this ship thrives and it's more believable that they fall for each other especially bc they're on more equal footing but crystal adds in a scene in S1 that i personally love that's when sailor moon and tuxedo mask are fighting zoisite toward the middle of the season (before venus shows up)

i'm massively paraphraseing but in this scene usagi doesn't just tell but shows mamoru through her tears and pained expression that she understands he's deeply lonely and that it hurts her, she doesn't want that for him, she wants to do everything in her power to make sure he never feels that way again

and mamoru tells her that SHE is everything he wants and he doesn't need a magical stone to find out who he is and where he belongs not when she's standing beside him bc her strength and kindness are inspiring and he's not afraid or lonely when around her

"i won't let you be alone anymore" / "seeing your strength makes me so happy" couples are my downfall and this scene cracks me right open

and this is BEFORE they regain their memories i'm fucking dead!

5/5🌙

English Dub

i vaguely remember ppl shitting on the English dub of Crystal and yes i watched it in Japanese first but the English dub is actually really great?! especially when compared to the 90's English dub!! i love Usagi's VA and i think all the voices match the characters pretty well

4.5/5🌙

The Transformations and Character Designs

okay so those 3D transformations are bad

the animation is really jarring at first and yeah it's not good i don't like it but after a while you just sort of...idk get used to it and it's not a make-or-break thing imo now did the 90s anime do it better? fuck yeah! but by the end of the season i just felt meh about them and barely cared

1/5🌙

i remember the character designs getting A. LOT. of hate and yeah i agree that they are too sharp and angular and that the manga was more a cross between the 90s and crystal character designs - but that's another thing you get used to and also doesn't that get fixed later?

plus idk i kind like that both animated versions each take one end of the spectrum with the manga in the middle 🤷🏾‍♀️

2/5🌙

The Big One

okay now the big one - the supposed past love between the 4 heavenly kings and the inner planet guardians that wasn't in the manga and definitely not in the 90s version where these guys are handled more interestingly

i think this subby-subplot that's not even really a subplot is stupid and doesn't amount to anything and doesn't actually make a ton of sense if earthlings and...and moonlings being together is forbidden the serenity had to SNEAK AWAY to see her earth prince and it does sort of take away some of the tragedy that is serenity and endymion's doomed love

like i was going "what was the point of that" when the kings all die and the sailor girls are weeping for 2secs before getting back to busniess and i get wanting to expand more on all 8 of these characters, but that's not how you do it - 90s-SM expanded on these characters better because plot points were stretched out and we got to know the characters more slowly over a longer period of time (plus 2 of the kings were lovers! that's cute as hell!!)

basically this whole thing was shoved into the story last minute with very minimal build up barely any conclusion and it's really uninteresting

0.3/5🌙 (only bc venus dropping a few hints every few episodes was done well enough-ish but it was still stupid in the end and shouldn't have been included the way it was)

Conclusion

even with that though crystal still isn't that bad - overall it's actually pretty good and i love experiencing the manga coming to animated live

the OST is beautiful! and even tho NOTHING tops the 90s theme song that crystal usamamo love theme is fucking gorgeous 😍 in fact all the music in crystal is top teir imo

i do miss the focus on the female friendship tho and kinda wish crystal took some of that 90s-SM female friendship focus BUT 90s-SM just had so much more time to work with and at the end of the day SM is a romance so i understand why the anime adapting the manga more closely focused on the romance more heavily (and that usamamo scene i talked about above is still so. damn. good!)

anyway if you're like me and didn't bother watching crystal bc the hate and backlash when it first came out i say give it a try

it's still cute and still sailor moon and so far it's getting a 4/5🌙

i'll probably do another one of these when i finish S2 (jon and eng) and the volumes it adapted

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softtcurse · 2 years

Text

Wants Sunlight

do not interact or READ if you are not 18+, contains mature content

Night 5 of Jack’s Austin, Texas showed started off. You were sitting on the sidelines near the front of the stage with Urban and The Homies, they had finished opening for Jack. A laminated VIP pass was around your neck designed specially for you, so you could go in and out as you please. Sometimes you needed a break from the crowd as it gets hot and Jack always made sure you were taken care of. It’s one of the many things you loved about him.

“You okay!?” Urban yelled at you through the sound of the crowd cheering. Jack was currently singing ‘Sundown’ and that always made the crowd go wild. It wasn’t even the panties being thrown on the stage floors that was distracting you, it was all him.

Your flared jeans and silky crop top was keeping you cool and really the only thing keeping you sane as you watched Jack do his thing on stage. The crowd singing back at him, more so yelling back at him.

“Yeah Im fine” You grinned and nodded, patting Urban on the back. “You just take you pictures! Get his good angles” You teased and laughed when Urban rolled his eyes at you. You two’s relationship was a very close one, almost like bestfriends. When you traveled with all of them it only bonded your relationship closer.

Sundown came to an end, and Jack grinned at the crowd. Pointing at random fans and reading signs, something he usually did when he wanted to interact with them to prep for the next song.

“Choke me daddy” Jack pointed at a sign. His face in pure faux shock, they’ve said crazier things to him. It was just funny to tease them sometimes. “No gag reflex? What?” Jack laughed and waved his hand with the hand that wasn’t holding the mic. “Alright, Alright. I wanna talk to you and be real for a second. As y’all know, my girl YN is here tonight” Jack locked eyes with yours. You blew him a kiss and the smirk that graced his stupid sexy ass face made you want to jump his bones then and there. He knew what he was doing to you.

“And I thought of a funny little story, back when he first started messing with eachother in 2019” Jack started, opening a small water bottle and taking a sip of it. He paced the state slowly, the crowd intently listening on what he was saying next. “Keep in mind, I’ve never seen such a beautiful woman in my life up until then, no one caught my eye like she did, it was incredible. Anyway, the first time me and YN ever had sex Urban and his girlfriend Ree walked in. Most shameful moment in her life, so she tells me. I remember I was going innnnnn” Jack exaggerated. His infamous laugh echoing as his fans cheered. Your cheeks were hot as you looked over at Ree. Her eyes wide as she stared at yours. You weren’t mad at all, you laughed along with him. It didn’t catch you off guard though.

“Bitch don’t kill me, he still has shows to do” Ree said. You

“Nah I just won’t let him get any for a few hours, it’ll be the same thing for him” You both shared a laugh.

“I was going in and then I heard a scream, I know how my girl screams when she comes” Jack paused letting the fans shouts and scream. “And it wasn’t like that, I look over and there’s Urban and Ree. Food in hand and they looked like they just saw their parents fucking or something”

“Basically!” Ree yelled and you nudged her and started leaning from how hard you were laughing. Urban’s hands caught hers as he leaned in and whispered something into her ear, making her giggle. The love birds of the century as you called them. Urban placed a small kiss to her forehead and his arm came to wrap around his waist. Always so gentle with her.

“But anyways, I remembered that night just a few minutes ago. Because it was the first night my girl told me that she wanted to be with me, in an actual relationship. Shits crazy how life works.” Jack raised his hand. “Now, we’re about to get married next year ”

“Oh god”

“YN WHAT?” Both Urban and Ree turned to look at you with shock.

“Surprise?”

The crowd was deafening.

“This short little story inspired this little song right here, y’all better scream that shit!”

Like a blade of grass wants sunlight, I just want that ass

You the type of girl I would've flirted with in class

Copied every test, be the reason that I passed

I know we could have a blast

We could have a kid, am I movin' too fast?

Know I'm not your first, but I could be your last

You can't even get gas without bein' harrassed, uhm

You mind drifted off to earlier that day, an hour before he was on stage, and just exactly he showed out for you.

///

“How’s your back feel?” You asked him as you entered the dressing room. Your bag and his bag tucked away in his arms as he held the door open for you. You blew Ree a kiss as you watched her wave at you, arm and arm with Urban, they had said they wanted to go and look at the stage before they came back to the dressing room.

“Shit feels great, we gotta get you to get your spine cracked like that” Jack smirked at you, closing the door with his foot once you had walked inside fully.

“Mmm I’ll stick with getting my back cracked by you, thanks” You cringed. Hearing him groan and his bones popping wasn’t something you were personally down for.

“I do now than crack your back and you know it”

“Shush you” You silenced him playfully. Jack set the bags down by the foot of the leather couch. His big Frame collapsed on the couch and he groaned. Patting his lap to signal you to come over.

You walked over to him and put either leg on his waist. His hands immediately finding the cup of your ass.

“I missed you”

“Oh yeah” You giggled and your hands placed themselves on his cheeks. Leaning down you placed multiple kisses to his lips.

“Yeah”

You couldn’t help yourself but to grind a little. Feeling him harden against your core.

“A shame you haven’t even had the decency to show me how much. It’s been since what? 8 am that I’ve seen you after 2 months and you haven’t even fucked me yet. A shame”

“I would shut your pretty mouth before it gets worse for you”

You took that as a challenge.

“Or what?”

His laughed mocked you, he knew he could have you crying out for him in the span of 4 minutes, and you knew it too. You just liked to rile him up. It only took all but 2 minutes for Jack to turn you underneath him. Your pants and panties tugged along and thrown somewhere across the room. Your legs were on the side of his head. His hands gripping the skin of your thighs. So much so that his fingers were turning white from how hard he was holding onto your skin. Your puffed clit awaiting his tongue, and when it came you jumped up. Your hands holding onto your breasts for dear life. As if you would lose your mind if you weren’t.

Jack’s tongue moving in small circles around it, teasing it, and it feels so fucking good that you swear you were going to faint.

“You done talking with your slutty ass mouth? What’s all that talk you were doing earlier huh?” Jack chuckled against your wet cunt.

“J-Jack, fuck I can’t” you whined. His mouth didn’t stop moving from its too much” You whimpered and your body felt like nirvana.

Maybe it was the way your man was just about to step out and perform to women who would jump on him if they had a chance that made you feel the way you did. Confident, because the man they all wanted had you on your back looking up at you as he lapped at your pussy. Both of his hands gripping your boobs roughly. “Fuck” You gasped out and tried to close your legs around his head. Your own hands gripping his hair, soft curls tickling your finger tips. The leather couch providing no coolness on your back anymore. The heat of the room being entirely euphoric and one a flick of your clit was landed to your sensitive pussy, your eyes only rolled back furthest

“Be a good fucking girl a take it” Jack scolded you, pulled his mouth away and giving your wet core a harsh slap.

“Just because you want to act like you don’t got no damn sense, get on all fucking fours”

You immediately turned around on your knees. Hearing his belt unbuckle behind you. Jack’s hands cupped your chin. Bringing you with your back pressed against his chest. Light peppers of kisses followed by harsh marks on your neck and nips at the side of your throat. You were practically dripping on the leather couch. Your pussy was throbbing for some more stimulants by him. He was more than willingly to comply but only by his own accord. “Look at you, like a bitch in heat” Jack laughed and his hands roamed down your body. Your breasts then squeezed by his hands. Tweaking at your sensitive nipples until he was ready to fuck you.

“What do you say before I fuck you silly doll? Hmm?” A few slaps landed on your left cheek, they weren’t rough but it left a little sting just how you liked it.

“Please”

“Please what?“

“Please daddy”

“Good girl”

His dick thrusted up into your pussy. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head yet again.

His pace didn’t start off slow, he wasn’t trying to make love to you after all.

You went stupid on his dick. Trying to form sentences but they just wouldn’t come out of you. The head of his member rubbed at just the right spot. Your knees would give out from under you if Jack wasn’t holding onto your hips. Threatening to move the pace slower if you didn’t keep up.

“I want to fuck you until I can feel that sweet little pussy cumming around my cock”

You cried and leaned forward. Jack taking the perfect opportunity to take your arms and hold them behind you. His thrusts got deeper and your legs felt like jelly.

“Daddy! Fuck!” You cried, real tears streaming down your face. Smudging the mascara you had applied carelessly before you arrived. Your lips were puffy from their previous assault of his lips. You wished you could lean up and kiss him. Lose your breath on his mouth but you knew better than to complain when he was giving you this much pleasure.

Jack felt his thighs clench. The way your pussy squeezed him with every jerk, the way your whines and whimpers sounded when he leaned down and played with your clit before moving his hand away as you were edging closer. It all did something to him, something none of his previous sexual partners made him feel.

“Who’s pussy is this? Tell me” He demanded. His voice quivering. Your pussy was just too good.

“Y-yours”

“You’re a good little slut aren’t you? Tell me how much of a good little slut you are. Tell me why you deserve my cum inside this tight pussy, you want me to fuck a baby into you huh? Wanna have my babies?”

“It feels so good daddy, you fuck me so good a-always” You sniffled and squeezed your eyes shut. Imagining his cum seeping out of you. If you could squeeze your legs you would. “Wanna have y-your babies so bad, please come inside me” His hand came to yank your hair. You leaned back and blinked heavy eyes at him.

“Good girl, good little Angel. So messy but so good to me” Jack pushed your head down again. Although it didn’t last long in its position.

Your head snapped back as Jack let a final thrust. Your lips quivered and your chest heaved. Jack let out a loud groan followed by a few profanities.

“Ahh! Jack! Shit!” You gasped and tensed your legs. Mind numb and blank, you could hear your blood gushing through your ears.

“Fuck!” Jack hissed and clenched his jaw. Pulling out of you, still bent over your pussy was on full display. Your arousal and cum mixed in with his own load. Such a pretty picture.

“Don’t move baby”

“What are you doing?” You bit your lip and grinned.

Jack snatched his phone off the floor and opened his camera. His hand coming to cup your ass.

Taking a perfect picture of your naked ass, your pussy filled to the brim with his come, and his PG ring shining against the heavy dressing room lights.

#jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x yn #jack harlow smut #jack harlow fic

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