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girlygguk · 7 months ago

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FIRST CLASS | JJK (m)

SUMMARY in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

𓍯𓂃

PAIRING rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader

WORDCOUNT 25k+

RATING 18+ MINORS DNI

GENRE smut, fluff, angst. university au, f2l

CONTENT childhood best friends, nepo baby!reader, nepo baby!jk, tae sister!reader, heavy pining, heavy cursing, a bit of crack throughout, (soft?) fuckboy!jk, whipped!jk, simp!jk, kinda emotionally constipated!reader, lack of & miscommunication, the most dramatic fic you’ll ever read, jk has his tats & shorter hair (ref in banner pic), jk is a tits guy and reader has big tiddies, jk & reader are very touchy and lovey friends, reader is kind of a bitch to those she doesn't care about, reader is rich but jk is richer 😩, arguments between mcs, jealousy, bottled up feelings, toxic/unhealthy friendship if u were to really think about it, jk & reader have active sex lives beforehand, reader is in a fwb situation beforehand, there is an explicit scene between reader & a side character (but no sex), punch up/fight scene/blood, potential/near-miss car accident, 2 scenes where characters get badly physically injured, alcohol consumption, use of a few male idol names (mingyu, jaehyun, felix), the rest of bangtan are side characters, the last like 9k(?) is literally just smut helppp, happy ending.

18+ WARNINGS making out, grinding, dry humping, fingering (f rec.), oral (both rec.), slight exhibition?..you'll see, pet names during sex, dirty talk, use of the word slut in praise, so much praising, biting, jk likes the pain ok, body worship, tiddy sucking, mentions of tiddy fucking, ball play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, bigg dick jk, soft dom!jungkook, subby!reader, unprotected sex, ocs a pro dick riderr 🙂‍↕️, creampie, sweet aftercare

author's note thank you all so much for the love on the teaser! it truly motivated me to finish this quicker than i ever expected. however, proofing such a long piece was a veryyy different experience to what i'm used to, so if u see any inaccuracies or timeline inconsistencies... no u don't <3

main masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

first class ; noun /ˌfəːs(t) ˈklɑːs/ a set of people or things grouped together as the best.

The biting cold of the winter evening settles over Yonsei University's lacrosse field, floodlights casting long shadows on the frosted grass. You pull your mink coat tighter around yourself, the chill seeping through despite your layers. Sitting on the bleachers with Park Jimin and his twin sister, Park Minji, you watch the game unfold.

The match is in full swing: Yonsei versus Hanyang, another top South Korean university. The excitement is palpable as the outdoor stadium fills with spectators, creating a sea of blue and green—the colors of the respective teams they are rooting for. Jimin wears a blue puffer jacket in support, while your roommate Minji is swimming in a blue long-sleeve sports jersey that definitely does not belong to her, you think with a smirk.

You initially weren't going to attend tonight due to other plans, which is why you aren't sporting anything blue. But, after a whiny 20-minute call from your insufferable best friend, you canceled on Mingyu last minute and tagged along with the Parks. Not that you would've dressed in all royal blue anyway… you're not fucking crazy. But maybe you would've added a blue ribbon to your hair or something.

Taehyung and Jungkook, co-captains of the Yonsei team, are in their element, dominating the field with effortless skill. You watch as your brother and Jungkook easily clear the opposing team, their movements synchronized and precise.

Jimin nudges you with a gloved hand, his breath visible in the frigid air. "Your brother and Kook are killing it out there," he says, his eyes following the action on the field.

You nod, cheeks flushed from the cold. Giving him a hum in agreement, you glance over at Minji. Her focused gaze keeps drifting back to Number 12, almost subconsciously, before realizing and snapping back to the middle of the field.

You look away in amusement, focusing on the game again and watching as Number 12, Kim Namjoon, swiftly catches the ball flying through the air with his racket before bolting through an opening in Hanyang's layout.

As the game progresses, the Hanyang team rallies, their determination pushing them closer and closer to Yonsei's lead. The crowd tenses as the score tightens, but you remain composed. You've seen this scenario play out countless times before.

There are 20 seconds left in the match, and Yonsei is down by two points. The twins have matching pouts on their lips, beginning to come to terms with your school receiving their first defeat of the season.

You watch as Hanyang makes the pitiful mistake of trying to make a risky pass by Number 1.

In the blink of an eye, Number 1's racket shoots out and intercepts the catch, and with a final burst of speed, Jungkook breaks right through the opposing defense. His eyes lock on the goal, and with a powerful swing, he sends the ball soaring into the net.

The crowd erupts, cheers reverberating across the field as the final buzzer blares, signaling the end of the game. You can't help but smile at Jungkook's skill.

The Yonsei team quickly swarms around Jungkook, their cheers morphing into a sea of bodies that envelop him, eventually toppling him to the ground in a dogpile. As they begin to disperse, Taehyung leans down to his co-captain with a proud grin.

Jungkook takes Taehyung's hand with a chuckle, the elder hoisting him to his feet before draping an arm around his shoulder. Jungkook pulls off his helmet, shaking out his damp curls, which cling stubbornly to his forehead. His eyes then drift towards the bleachers, where he suddenly loses his train of thought.

There you are, in all your glory—wrapped in a long, expensive chocolate mink coat, cheeks flushed pink from the cold air.

Your smooth legs, sheathed in sheer stockings, disappear into boots that likely cost as much as a teenager's first car. He wonders about the color of your skirt hidden beneath your coat—is it brown to match, or black to complement your boots? The color, he isn't certain, but he does know it is either a skirt or a dress. You would never be caught dead in trousers and even avoid jeans if you can. Personally, Jungkook thinks you look spectacular in jeans.

Your hair hangs loose, styled pin-straight but tousled slightly by the breeze, and his fingers itch to tuck the stray strands behind your ear. You are engrossed in conversation with Jimin and Minji as the three of you descend the bleacher seats, now heading towards him and your brother. Your brother, who is now holding his helmet under his right arm, uses his left to tug his best friend out of his trance and towards their friends.

You and the Park siblings weave through the amped-up crowd before finally reaching where the co-captains are peeling off their gloves.

Jimin clasps Taehyung's hand, pulling him into a warm, brotherly hug. "That was a fucking game, Tae!" He exclaims, a wide grin spreading across his face before giving the same greeting to Jungkook.

Minji follows suit, hugging Taehyung quickly before turning to Jungkook with a playful smirk. “You had us scared for a second, Kook,” she teases, “thought you weren’t gonna make that last shot.”

Jungkook chuckles, returning Minji's hug before leaning back and chucking his helmet on the ground, waiting for you to finish congratulating your brother.

"All part of the show," he replies to the twin with a wink before you pull away from Tae and float to him like second nature.

Nobody bats an eye as your arms slink around his shoulders, linking behind his neck. His taller frame leans down slightly on instinct, and his arms wrap around your waist. His face buries gently into your neck, pulling you a little closer. Your perfume renders Jungkook dazed, and he knows that he is a sweaty mess and smells like one too, but even if you notice, you don't mention it.

"Hi," he mumbles, his breath tickling your skin, causing you to smile and pull away slightly.

"Hi," you echo sweetly, noticing his eyes flicker down to where your coat has parted and your black Hermès mini-skirt peeks through.

You are about to ask him if he likes it because you just bought it yesterday, but he is quick to draw your coat tighter around you, probably not wanting the cold air to nip at you any longer.

He picks up his helmet and gloves, his tattooed arm slipping comfortably over your shoulder as the five of you head towards the locker rooms.

Your head rests against the side of his chest while you walk, and your friends are still beaming about Yonsei's fourth consecutive win of the season. Jungkook slows his steps slightly, letting the rest of your group pull slightly ahead.

"Glad you came," he says softly, his skin tingling as your nails lightly scratch against his shirt where your hand rests around his waist.

"Yeah, you better be," you hum teasingly, "Mingyu was not happy."

Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat before forcing out a laugh, "Tell him I'll make it up to him. Take him out on a date myself."

Your giggle soothes the ache in his chest before it returns tenfold at your response, "wasn't a date. Was just going to see him."

"Ohhaahah," his attempt at a laugh comes out more strained than he intends, and you snort, amused by his discomfort.

Before he can protest, you interlock his hand with yours and lead him towards the locker room, his steps quickening to match yours. He follows behind you like a puppy dog, as if this was your locker room and you were showing it to him for the first time.

A chaotic mix of celebration and exhaustion echoes throughout the building as you walk through the door that Tae holds open. The smell of sweaty lacrosse players all but hits you in the face, and Jungkook watches in amusement as your nose scrunches slightly. The warm air is welcoming though, and you let out a sigh as it works to defrost your frozen skin.

The changing room is packed to the brim with sweaty college boys high-fiving, recounting the game's highlights, and shedding off their gear. Jungkook lets go of your hand when you and Minji go over to say hi to Namjoon.

Taehyung is caught up in conversation with the coach, who is commending the team's performance and already running through some things they can work on in preparation for next month's match.

"Jaykayyyyyy!!"

"Let's fucking gooo, Jeon!"

"Good shit tonight, JK!"

You release Namjoon from the hug and turn towards the sudden commotion coming from the other side of the locker room.

Your best friend is at the center of the group, his teammates slapping his back and tousling his hair while showering him with praise. You notice his bunny-like teeth peeking out as he grins. No matter how confidently he carries himself throughout the day, he still flushes at compliments, which makes you roll your eyes amusedly.

Jungkook breaks away from the group and heads to his locker to check his phone while you return your attention to Namjoon and Minji, who are now caught in a quiet conversation.

You head over to Jimin, who looks to be passionately explaining something to Hobi and Yoongi, judging by his broad and exaggerated hand movements. He is a drama major though, so you can never be too sure.

A vibrating noise cuts your journey short. You fish your phone from your coat pocket and begrudgingly slip out of the locker room back into the cold air before answering. "Hey, Gyu."

"Hey, Y/N." Mingyu's tone is low and strained, like he’s in pain almost.

You tuck the strands of hair that were getting picked up by the wind behind your ear. "How can I help you?" you ask.

"Y/N," he grunts out a pained laugh, and you click.

You hear shuffling on the other side of the line while he sits up against his headboard.

"Yes? What do you need?" You're not going to do the work for him, and he knew that. He felt pathetic even making the call in the first place.

He goes quiet for a moment, and you pull your phone from your ear to glance at the time. "It's only 8 pm, and you sound like you're already in bed."

Mingyu nods as if you could see him, "I am. I have been for a while," he admits before asking you how the game was. You know he didn't actually give a shit about the game, but you still entertain him and answer

He drags out the conversation for a few minutes, running his hand through his hair at your voice. He doesn't want to hear it through the phone; he wants to hear it in person. He wants you to be in his room right now, like you said you would be.

Mingyu hates how disinterested you sound. Mingyu also hates how that very disinterested tone makes his cock throb in his sweatpants. You couldn't care less about him, whereas all he's been doing since you canceled on him three hours ago is lay in bed and fucking think about you. He sighs before biting the bullet, "Are you still coming over?"

Your brows furrow slightly, "Oh, I thought I told you that I was—"

"Can you still come over?" He rephrases his question, "please?"

Your lips purse as you consider it for a second. You don't have any classes tomorrow, so you guess you could head to his later tonight.

You're about to respond when the sound of the door opening behind you causes you to turn around.

You watch as the wealthiest student in the entire university approaches you, now dressed in a plain black hoodie and a pair of joggers, running a towel through his wet hair. It no longer looks sweaty wet but instead shampooed wet, so you assume he had a quick shower. "Hey, you okay? Why are you out here in the cold?"

"One second," you say into the phone before lowering it and moving closer to Jungkook. He closes your fur coat tightly around you again as it comes open from the strong wind while he waits for your response.

"Came out here to take a call. Too loud in there."

He nods, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "'K. We're going to Hanji's to eat. Did you want to ride with me?"

You're about to agree without even thinking when you remember the boy waiting on the other end of the call.

"Ah," you mutter, lifting the phone back to your ear. "I'll come over at like 11?" you say to Mingyu, not catching the frown that coats Jungkook's lips.

Mingyu almost protests but knows that 11 is better than nothing and stops himself. "Sweet. Just text me if you need me to pick you up."

You thank him before saying your goodbyes and ending the call. You look up at your best friend, his gaze unfocused. "Can I?" you ask.

"Hmm?" he hums, blinking a few times before focusing on your face.

"Ride with you?"

"Yeah," he smiles down at you, letting you link your arm with his as he leads you back into the warm locker room.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Hanji's is loud. The clamor of sizzling grills and busy cooks no match for the chatter of students and customers that fill the room. You sip on an iced tea as your friends laugh and chat, still basking in tonight's victory.

Snug between your brother and Jungkook, you rest your head on the latter's shoulder, sipping your drink through a paper straw. His arm drapes over the back of the booth's chair, allowing you to settle comfortably as he chats with the swim team captain, Jin, who sits on the opposite side of the booth.

Your coat is folded on Jungkook's lap now that you're surrounded by the warm air of the diner, and his tattooed fingers play absentmindedly with the spaghetti strap of your top.

Taehyung leans over and snatches a dumpling from your untouched plate with his chopsticks, causing you to glance at him in faux annoyance. Your brother knows you don't actually care and flashes you a big, toothy grin which you can’t help but return.

You push the plate toward him, wordlessly telling him to have it all and his eyes light up for a split second before his brows furrow. "Why aren't you eating?" he asks concernedly, his words slightly muffled by a mouthful of food.

"Ate just before the game, I'm full," you reply, nodding when he asks if you're sure and watching him grab another dumpling.

Liar. Jungkook thinks as he watches Jin's mouth move but is unfocused on the words he's actually saying.

You don't eat before a link, a habit of yours Jungkook is very aware of, having asked you not to do it countless times before.

It's not that deep, you always tell him; you just don't enjoy sex much with a full stomach, it makes you feel sorta sick. And food always tastes better after sex anyway.

He glances down at you for a second, and you're already looking his way, your pretty eyes boring into his as if daring him to mention anything to your brother. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he turns away, attempting to hide his smile at your attitude.

Jin cracks a joke and glances at you for a reaction, prompting you to roll your eyes and laugh. He pumps his fist in the air triumphantly, earning a playful smack from his girlfriend.

Your friends are always like that—acting as if making you laugh is some monumental achievement. You're not a masochist; you don't avoid laughing on purpose. But you're rich, intelligent, and pretty... It takes a lot to impress you. Jungkook makes you laugh a lot though.

Seated next to Jin is his gorgeous high-school sweetheart, Mia, and next to her is your ever-so pouty housemate, Minji. You quietly observe Minji's gaze as it frequently drifts to the booth adjacent to yours, where Yoongi, his boyfriend Hobi, Jimin, and, most importantly, Namjoon are seated.

Minji sighs softly, snapping out of her daze as she looks down at her cider. Taehyung is laughing at something Jin said, leaning forward in front of you slightly to engage in conversation with the swimmer on the other side of the table. You take this moment to check on your friend.

Your head lifts off Jungkook's shoulder, and he resists the urge to turn and ask why, trying to stay focused on the story his Hyung is telling. You catch Minji's eye, offering her a small, questioning smile. She returns it as best she can before her expression morphs back into a troubled pout, and she shakes her head slightly.

You nod in understanding, tapping Jungkook's thigh as a signal that you'll be right back and ask Taehyung to let you out of the booth. Your brother stands, allowing you to shuffle out, and you grasp Minji's hand, tugging her along to the restroom.

Jungkook glances over, watching you usher Minji away from the table, and from the corner of his eye, he notices Namjoon looking over too.

Fifteen minutes go by, and you're reapplying Minji's mascara, which she cried off during her tearful spiel about her situationship.

"It's like h-he—" she pauses to hiccup, and you move the wand away to let her breathe, "—he just likes to mess with my fucking head! Every time we hook up he's all like 'Minjiiiiyahhh,'" you snicker at her imitation of his voice.

"’I can't get enough of you! I wanna do this forever!' but then when we're with everyone, it's like he's scared to even stand next to me! God, is he like, embarrassed of me or something?" She seethes, shaking her head in frustration.

You lift a tissue to her lash line, dabbing at the fresh tears brewing and scoff. "Embarrassed of you? Don't be ridiculous," you say, capping the mascara and sliding it back into her clutch, giving up on the rescue mission as the tears just keep coming.

"You are gorgeous," you turn your body to lean against the basin with her, linking her arm in yours. "Smart," you continue, resting your head on her shoulder. "Funny... sometimes," you tease, and she lets out a tearful giggle, her trembly hands curling around your arm as she snuggles into you in gratitude.

"God, I'm literally wearing his jersey. How pathetic." She laughs at herself, and your brows furrow slightly.

"How is that pathetic? I'm sure he wanted you to wear it, didn't he?"

"Well yeah... He was actually really cute when he asked if I would. He was all shy and shit. Fuck sakes," she groans in frustration, "it makes everything even more confusing!"

"Maybe he's just shy about showing affection in front of people? I mean, he is literally a computer science major..." You trail off and smile when she whines and wacks the arm of yours that she's leaning on.

"Seriously, though, don't cry over a guy, Min. And especially don't question your worth because of him." The bathroom falls silent except for her soft sniffles at your words.

You hand her the tissue that you're holding before adding, "You need to talk and set things straight with him, or you're just going to continue hurting." You internally scoff at the hypocrisy of your own words, but your roommate is none the wiser, nodding at you in agreement.

After a moment, she speaks quietly, "I wish I could be more like you."

"How so?" you ask, though you already have an inkling.

"You never get attached to the guys you hang with. I wish I could do that. It seems so much more freeing."

You hum half-heartedly in response, watching her dab at her eyes one last time before turning to wash her hands. Her words linger, echoing in your mind longer than they should. No, you don't get attached. Because you already know firsthand just how much it fucking sucks when the feelings aren't mutual.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

It's 11:12 pm. The scent of your Chanel No. 5 lingers in the air, blending with Jungkook's soft hums to his car radio. The warm air from the heater makes your eyes droop slightly.

"You have a nice voice," you murmur, toying with the tattooed fingers resting on your stocking-clad thigh.

He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "You always say that," he replies, eyes returning to the road as he stops at a red light.

"Because it's true," you state simply. "Do you disagree?"

He laughs softly at your bluntness, a familiar flush creeping up his neck. "Maybe."

"Hm," you roll your eyes, lifting one of his fingers and letting it drop before repeating the motion with the others. "Whatever, golden boy."

"Ya," he chuckles, squeezing your thigh gently, "don't call me that."

You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "You let everyone else call you that."

His lips purse into a slight pout. "Not you."

You blink at him, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile at his big, boba eyes. He just keeps staring at you, letting you fiddle with his hand. After a few long moments, you giggle at his dazed-out expression. "Light's green, Gukkie."

He snaps out of it instantly, facing back toward the road, and his foot hits the gas pedal a little quicker than intended. That's better, he thinks.

A few minutes later, he turns into the familiar entrance of Yonsei University, steering the car down the path that leads to the Delta Sigma Phi fraternity house. As he pulls into a parking spot in front of the building, you're halfway through sending a text, so he waits for you to finish before cutting off the heater.

You lock your phone and glance up just as he extracts the keys from the ignition. He pats your thigh gently before climbing out of the car. You follow suit, rounding the vehicle to meet him by the driver's side.

Instinctively, he reaches for your hand, fingers entwining, and you rest your head against his arm as you both ascend the front steps to the frat.

The foyer is dark as Jungkook leads you inside. He maneuvers through the hall effortlessly, even without his sight. He guides you up the stairs to the second floor, your hands still locked together, and he turns to face you when you reach the door to his bedroom.

You look up at him with a dumb smile, and he leans down to bury his face in your neck before he says something dumber. His back presses against the door, and as you lean into him, the scent of his clean, linen hoodie fills your senses.

Jungkook's love language is physical touch, and you let him have his moment, keening slightly when he nudges the side of your neck with his pretty nose. YYour phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it, wanting to spend five more minutes with your best friend.

"Do you have class tomorrow?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to be heard by his housemates.

He doesn't say anything, just shakes his head wordlessly, his curls tickling your skin as he does.

"Movie tomorrow then?" you suggest softly, letting him lean back slightly to look at you.

The moment you see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, you know his response before he even forms the words. His pouty lips part, ready to offer an excuse when you squint your eyes and lean away from him.

"Jesus, Jeongguk." You groan, still keeping your voice low, but he can hear the annoyance loud and clear. "Why do you get all pouty and sad when you have other plans? It's okay."

Jungkook's eyebrows furrow. He edges forward, trying to maintain some form of physical contact, but you just shrug him off. "I already agreed to it last night. I'm sorry, Y/N."

You let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes. "Why are you fucking apologizing?" Your words have bite, but he doesn't react, simply leaning closer to you even though you continue to distance yourself.

You know you're overreacting in a sense, but every time he has plans with a girl, he always apologizes with that stupid fucking pout and those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes. And it's only when it's with another girl.

You weren't upset; you were well aware of his active sex life. It's like he expects you to burst into tears whenever he tells you he's seeing someone. Why the fuck would you care?

Jungkook reaches out to you in a last attempt to grab your hand, and you just stare at it, not making any move to accept the gesture. He sighs, letting his hand fall to his side while he looks at your pissed-off expression.

"Why?" You try again.

Jungkook's shoulders slump, and he looks down, avoiding your gaze. "I don't know," he responds softly. He barely catches the annoyance on your face fading, soon replaced with something that tugs at his heart even more—boredom.

"Okay then, Gukkie. Sleep well, we'll talk later," you say, nodding as you step closer to him. Your arms wrap around him in a quick hug, and before he can even react, you're walking down to the other end of the hall.

Jungkook's eyes stay focused on the ground, listening to your footsteps getting further away.

It's not until he hears a soft knock on his frat-mate's bedroom door and a fucked-out, "Shitttt, look at you," come from Mingyu that he scoffs, turning into his room and slamming the door behind him.

Thirty minutes pass, then an hour, then two, as Jungkook lies grumpily on his bed, glaring at his bedroom ceiling.

There was an unmistakable bang of a headboard against the wall down the hall at minute forty-five, followed quickly by your hushed voice telling Mingyu to keep it down. Jungkook hasn't been able to close his eyes since.

"Why are you fucking apologizing?"

Your words ring in his head as he tosses under his blanket uncomfortably, giving up before ripping it off his body a bit too aggressively, causing it to fall to the ground.

"I don't know."

Dirty fucking liar, his subconscious snickers.

Of course he knew. He's always fucking known. It's subconscious; the way he can't stop the apology from spewing from his lips every time.

He wants you to be upset. He wants you to get angry at him for sleeping with other girls. He wants you to ask him not to go.

But you don't. You never do. If anything, you encourage it. And there he is, apologizing like a fucking idiot for something that you don't even care about. Every time he sees that disinterested look in your eyes, it feels like a sour punch to the gut.

Jungkook's mind races as he tries to figure out why he keeps doing this to himself. Why he keeps hoping for a reaction that never comes. He thinks about the way you hugged him earlier, the fleeting moment of closeness before you walked away without a second thought. You're so good at that.

He rolls onto his side, trying for the nth time to close his eyes, the sounds of your muffled laughter and Mingyu's low murmurs mocking him through the thin walls.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, the frustration gnawing at him, a constant reminder of what he can't have. He wants to move on, to stop letting you have this power over him. He laughs at the thought.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Two days later, you're sitting in your afternoon Linguistics class, sandwiched between Jimin and Aerum. Why Jimin didn’t take the spot in the middle if he was going to let her sit near you guys, you’re un-fucking-sure.

Aerum isn't part of your inner circle, but she likes hanging around. You know her type—fake and a gossip. She attempts to make small talk with you throughout the class, but your answers are curt and disinterested.

"—even surprised? As if Jeongguk hasn't slept his way through half the campus already." Aerum giggles, twirling a strand of her hair. That gets your attention.

You don't even look up from your notebook, continuing to jot down what the professor says. "Don't talk about him like that," you say, your tone flat, causing Aerum to falter for a second.

She nervously chuckles, "It's not a secret he gets around, Y/N. You know that..."

Unamused, you finish off your notes, letting her brew for a second, before finally lifting your gaze. You lean in a little, and Aerum shuffles closer as if you were about to let her in on some juicy tea.

"I don't care if he took your mother over the kitchen counter and made you watch." Aerum's lips part at your words, leaning back slightly in shock. "Don't talk about him like that. Matter of fact, don't talk about him at all."

She malfunctions for a second before nodding dazedly, quickly turning to face the front of the class for the first time today. You return to your notebook uninterestedly as Jimin lets out a loud snort, leaning over to hide his face in your shoulder.

The class continues without further interruptions, and when the professor finally wraps it up, you begin putting your things away. Jimin holds your bag for you like he always does as you make your way out of the classroom. Aerum follows behind like a kicked puppy.

With no more classes for the day, you and Jimin had planned to go to the campus café for a study date. Much to your dismay, Jimin had invited Aerum when she overheard you talking about it at the beginning of Linguistics. Jimin is kind to everyone, a trait of his that you somewhat admire, but in this case, it just made you want to slam his laptop shut over his fingers.

Once you reach the café, you find an empty table at the back while Jimin goes to the counter to order your usual drinks, Aerum trailing behind him quietly.

As you set your things down, you notice your phone at the top of your bag. You pick it up, deciding to text Jungkook because you haven't seen him in a couple of days, and you miss him. Maybe he can come study.

It's as if the universe heard your thoughts because suddenly, you feel a pair of sturdy arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. You smile when his familiar cologne reaches your nose and quickly spin around to pull him down into a proper hug.

"I was literally just about to text you," you tell him as he snuggles into your neck.

"You studying?" he murmurs into your skin, his warm breath tickling you slightly.

"Mhm, with Jiminie and Aerum," you reply, leaning back slightly. He scrunches his nose in protest when you pull away but lets you go.

"Cool, I could use a break," he says, his eyes twinkling as he takes a seat next to you, casually slinging his arm over the back of your chair.

"Where were you heading?" you ask as you both settle down, and he helps you spread out your supplies.

"Just dropping some gear off to coach on campus. Saw you through the window," his gaze flickers over your outfit before he smiles softly. "You look pretty."

You smile cutely at the compliment, and his heart skips a beat.

Jungkook suppresses a sigh. You look so sweet in your white cashmere sweater and creamy plaid Burberry skirt, but the way your body fills it out is anything but. Not a single hair out of place, you look sinfully and irrevocably perfect.

Jimin returns with the drinks and almost gets a fright from the lacrosse captain. "Hey, Kook," he says with a grin, handing you your iced coffee.

Aerum, holding her drink, looks slightly flustered but tries to mask it with a smile. "Hi, Jungkook," she says, her voice a little too sweet.

Jungkook nods at her politely before turning his attention back to you. "What subject?" He leans over to grab your textbook, and before you can answer, Aerum takes a seat and chimes in.

"Linguistics," she smiles, and Jungkook nods while flipping through the textbook.

You're logging into Jimin's laptop while he licks the whipped cream from the top of his frappe like a cat. You snort at the blonde before opening the shared doc that he and you have. You're begin to scroll through the pages, trying to find where you left off last time, but the sound of Aerum's continuous pestering distracts you.

"—again tonight or something?" You only catch the end of her sentence, but by the flirty tone she's only just now using, you assume she's speaking to Jungkook.

"Aish, Aerum…" Jungkook laughs awkwardly, flicking through the pages of your textbook as if it would somehow teleport him away from the situation.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you don't do round 2's. Make an exception? For me?" She pouts cutely, and even Jimin can't resist the urge to cringe into his cup.

Jungkook looks over at you for a moment; whether it's for help or a reaction, he doesn't know, but he's not surprised when you don't even look up from the laptop. Just continuing to scroll through your document.

He can't even stop the words from coming out before he says them, "Yeah, okay."

Jimin's brows furrow in surprise. You keep scrolling.

"Yeah?" Aerum can't hide the surprise in her own voice, giddy nonetheless.

"Yeah." He nods at her, looking down at your textbook, wishing it would telepathically lift up and knock him out cold.

An hour flies by, during which you and Jimin make significant progress on the paper, having already completed a quarter of it.

Aerum, however, proves to be an absolute dead weight, giving weak half-assed responses whenever Jimin tries to involve her in the research. Her focus is solely on flirting with Jungkook.

If she even thinks of attempting to slip her greasy little name on this project once you and Jimin are done, you'll take great satisfaction in bringing her back down to reality.

You finish typing a sentence on Jimin's laptop before locking it and giving him a look. He understands immediately and stands up to pack his things wordlessly.

You're beyond irritated—not because Jungkook and Aerum are practically on the verge of fucking right on top of the café table, but because they're doing it while you're trying to work. Frustrated and disgusted, you uncharacteristically bite your tongue and sling your bag over your shoulder.

"You're leaving?" Jungkook's head snaps to you the moment he notices you standing up, and he follows suit, Aerum tagging along behind him.

"Yep," you nod, grabbing Jimin's arm when he extends it to you and heading for the café exit.

"Are you—shit," Jungkook stutters, jogging slightly to catch up to you, Aerum trailing behind him. "Are you guys doing anything tonight?"

You almost roll your fucking eyes, but Jimin responds with a neutral expression, "Yeah, Kook… the DSP gather? We planned it last week?"

"Fuck," Jungkook coughs out, "Yeah, no, I remember."

You continue walking back towards the main campus where Jimin's car is parked, with Jungkook and Aerum not far behind. When you reach Jimin's Audi, you detach from his arm and head for the passenger seat, Jungkook meeting you at the door.

"Did you still want me to pick you up?" he asks softly, watching you adjust your bag strap over your shoulder in boredom while you wait for Jimin to unlock the car.

“No, that’s okay, Guk. I'll come over with Minji. She's on a drinking cleanse after the Feb blackout, so she can drive," you smile, leaning up to give him a quick goodbye hug.

He leans into it, but you don't let him linger, pulling away as soon as you hear the sound of the car unlocking. You go to open the door and climb in, but he gently puts his hand against it to stop you.

"Are you okay? Can you talk to me, please?" he lowers his voice so no one can hear.

Jimin takes the hint and awkwardly gets into the car, telling Aerum to hop in the back and he'll drop her home. She looks at Jungkook for a long moment before reluctantly getting in.

Jungkook's big, worried, boba eyes make you want to both scoff and run your hand over his face until they ease up.

"What do you mean, Gukkie? Just don't want you to go out of your way. You live there, so there's no point in you driving to get me."

Huh? He's picked you up for every single frat party they hold. He doesn't mind. He insists on driving you. He loves driving you! What the fuck?

Jungkook lets his hand fall from the door in resignation, and his heart clenches at the speed in which you pull the handle to open it, like you couldn't wait to get away from him. He somberly takes a step back from the car to let you get in.

You sigh when you glance back at his scrunched eyebrows and pouty lips. You place your bag on the seat and shut the door with a groan before walking back to your sulky best friend.

His response is immediate. His arms link around your waist when you lean into him, his head nestling into your neck where it belongs. Your nails lightly scratch against his polo, and he squeezes you a little tighter.

"I want to pick you up," he says softly. You run your hands down his arms, grabbing them where they link behind your waist. You give them a squeeze as you gently untangle yourself from him.

"I'm riding with Minji. I'll see you tonight, Gukkie." He watches you walk back to Jimin's car and finally get in.

Aerum's eyes are on Jungkook as Jimin pulls out of the campus parking lot. Jungkook's are on you.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

You weren't always as unbothered as you are today at the age of 21.

Maybe it was maturing, maybe it was the pilates sessions you take twice a week, or maybe it was because a particular situation made you vow to yourself you'd never go through that pain again. Well, whatever it was that made you so emotionally detached, you're grateful for it. You're young, gorgeous, and you have a fruitful and prosperous life on the horizon.

Fun is good. Feelings are not.

You shake your head to get yourself out of your thoughts—the thoughts you don't know why are suddenly floating around in your messy little brain—and yell out to your roommate for a favor.

Park Minji and you share a two-bedroom penthouse on the top floor of Kim Marriott, the Seodaemun-gu branch of your parents' luxury 5-star hotel chain.

Taehyung was supposed to move in with you during your first year, but when he was appointed Frat President, he chose to stay on-site at Delta Sigma Phi. What a humble boy… you couldn't think of anything worse.

He dragged Jungkook along with him, and you dragged Minji along with you, so everything worked out great. Minji is a lot tidier than your brother, anyway.

You're rummaging through your closet for the shoes you swore you had stored there after your last shopping trip when Minji waltzes into your room, holding the box you've been hunting for.

"These ones, right? They were on the kitchen counter, among all your other unopened packages..." She rolls her eyes teasingly.

"Oh yes! Fuck, I love you," you cry, walking up to the blonde and pulling the heels from the box she holds open for you.

"They're so pretty," she compliments before closing the box and tossing it in the living room to throw away later. She looks back at you as you head to your full-length mirror, slipping on the shoes.

"Jesus, Y/N." Minji groans, and you hum in question, eyeing her through the mirror.

"You look so good, what the fuck..." she whines, walking closer to you and standing side by side in the mirror to check on her outfit as well.

The white bodycon mini-dress hugs your body nicely, its low neckline no match for your bigger-than-average tits as the fabric clings to them for dear life. The white-gold Cartier necklace Jungkook gifted you rests prettily on your chest, just like it always has ever since the night he clasped it around your neck.

2 years prior—circa. your 19th birthday

"Get fucked, Jeongguk." The words rip from your throat, venomous and sharp as they slap your best friend's face into a furrowed, exasperated expression.

You yank the jacket tighter around your shoulders as the cold night air whips at your skin, storming down the sidewalk. The urge to rip the jacket—his jacket—off your body is strong, but it's so fucking cold. You may be petty and possibly overreacting a little right now... but you're not stupid.

Jungkook's heavy footsteps trail after you, his calls of your name only pushing you to walk faster. He catches up in no time, your hurried steps no match for his long strides. He tries to gently grab your arm, but you shrug off his touch angrily, spinning around to glare at him. You're about to tell him to fuck off again when he speaks first.

"Come back inside. It's like a fucking blizzard out here; you're going to freeze to death," he says evenly, though frustration laces his words.

"Oh, please," you laugh humorlessly, shaking your head in disbelief. "As if you give a shit if I freeze."

"Don't fucking say—"

"I'm going home. You can tell everyone I'm sick and had to leave. Or don't, I don't fucking care." You turn away and start walking again, his footsteps immediately following.

"You're walking home?" You ignore his question, causing him to huff and run a hand through his hair. "Let me drive you home, please."

You ignore him again, knowing that if there's something Jungkook can't stand more than you yelling at him, it's you not speaking to him.

"Stop doing this. It's your birthday; don't let it end like this—"

"Yes, Jeongguk, it's my birthday," you seethe, whipping back around. "And you brought a random chick none of us even know to my birthday dinner. And you didn't even bother to get me a gift. On. My fucking. Birthday."

"Y/N—"

"Limited edition PlayStation, imported Swedish lacrosse stick, custom painted iPad from your favorite local fucking artist," you list the gifts you've gotten him for his birthday over the years angrily. Jungkook shakes his head, trying to step closer to you, but you hold up your hand to keep the distance.

"Do you even know how much effort I put into the things I get and do for you? And for you to sit there with that... that stupid fucking look on your—God, Jeongguk!" Your voice is on the cusp of being a whine, but you don't care. "Oh, but I'm sure you spent a decent chunk of Daddy's money on Winnie tonight, huh?" You don't care that the Daddy's money statement is also very applicable to you… you're pissed.

Jungkook's jaw clenches at your words, and he steps forward, slipping his hand into the pocket of the jacket you're wearing. Before you can snap at him again, he pulls out a small velvet box and holds it out to you.

"What is that?" you demand, your voice still trembling with annoyance.

"Your gift," he says softly, opening the box to reveal a white-gold Cartier diamond necklace. "I was planning to give it to you when we were in private."

You stare at the necklace, your anger momentarily overshadowed by surprise. The diamonds of the pendant sparkle under the streetlights, and you almost let out a moan. Diamonds are your weakness.

"You motherfucker," you groan under your breath, glaring at the necklace in hopes it will dissipate into thin air so you can continue being annoyed at him.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice a whisper. "Everyone was coming with their partners, Y/N. I couldn't come alone."

You sigh, knowing that. Your comment was a cheap shot, considering Jungkook doesn't hang with a girl more than once, so it would be impossible for him to bring someone you already knew. But Winnie was getting on your last nerve, and you saw an opportunity to sneak in a jab, so you took it.

Not only was his date clearing glass after glass of the expensive wine your friends had ordered as if it were water, but she was also not shy about ordering the priciest dishes on the menu. Judging by her tiny red Zara mini-dress, you highly doubt she'll be reaching for her purse at the end of the night.

Your gaze is still locked on the necklace as you take a moment to think. Jungkook hasn't moved either, continuing to hold the box open for you while he scans your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

"It's, um, engraved and shit," he mumbles, his hand not holding the box lifting to run over his jaw nervously. "And I got a chain one… for me too."

Your eyes snap to his, and he swears his heart stops beating. God, you think it's stupid. You hate it. That's okay. He'll just wait until you turn around so he can sprint to the nearest homeless guy and give him the stupid neckl—

"Like matching?" Your eyes soften, and he slowly feels the blood flooding into his heart.

"Yeah, only if you like, want to," he shrugs cutely, and you can't stop the grin from spreading across your lips.

You're close enough to slide your arms around his torso but still not near enough for Jungkook as he tugs you closer, melting into the hug. "Thank you, Gukkie. I love it," you murmur into his chest, and he feels his muscles relax at you finally using his nickname again.

You lift your head from his black fitted Givenchy dress shirt, which smells a little too good, to look up at him. "But why did you say you didn't have anything when everyone gave me their gifts?"

He looks down at the slight pout on your lips, his fingers twitching with the urge to wipe it off your mouth. Instead, he flicks the box closed with a thumb and holds it out to you. "Don't think Jaehyun would've been too thrilled with me giving you this," he chuckles. "The dude hates me."

You frown up at him, about to chime in and say that isn't true, but his lips tug into a smirk as if to say he couldn't care less about what your boyfriend thought of him. And honestly, if he were Jaehyun, he'd hate him too.

Jungkook had the necklaces made a little over two months ago, and you and Jaehyun have only been official for one. So, Jungkook's intentions behind the gift weren't malicious, he swears…

If you just so happen to wear the necklace and your boyfriend notices his matching one, which then causes a rift in your relationship, resulting in the two of you breaking up… well, that would just be a nice little coincidence.

"Jae knows you and I are close," you explain with a crease in your brow that he wants to massage until it goes away. "I made it very clear to him when he wanted to get serious, and he understood."

Jungkook nods along to your words even if he doesn't fully believe them. Either Jaehyun is a really good and secure guy, or he's full of grade-A horse shit. If you were his and another dude tried to come along and buy you an eleven-thousand-dollar necklace? Fuck, he'd knock the guy out cold.

You untangle yourself from your best friend and lift the lid of the velvet box still in his grasp. You coo at the pretty diamonds before turning to face away from Jungkook.

You gather your hair before swiping it over your shoulder and letting his jacket fall slightly to bare your neck. Jungkook reacts immediately, picking up the necklace before shoving the box in his pocket. His cold fingers brush against you as he carefully fastens the jewelry around your neck.

When he pulls away, you let your hair fall back into place and turn around to face him again. Your smile is soft, eyes twinkling as you look down at the necklace. "It's so pretty, Gukkie. I love it."

You're so pretty. I love you, he thinks.

With a sigh, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in one of the most casual party outfits you've worn in a while—well, to your standards, at least. For some reason, you just don't feel entirely up for it tonight. Something feels off in your stomach. Or your head. You're not sure. You're probably just getting sick or something.

After slipping into the heels, you stand up straight and smush a kiss on the girl's cheek, smiling at the mark your lip gloss leaves on her face. "Ya, I just did my makeup," she gasps, leaning closer to your mirror to dab off the glossy residue.

You pat her bum gently. "You look gorgeous, Min. Gonna have Joon in tears tonight."

"If he even looks at me," she rolls her eyes, adjusting the strap of her Miu Miu dress in the mirror.

"You haven't talked to him yet?" You ask as you apply your perfume, and she turns to look at you with guilty eyes.

"No," she sighs, "I will tonight."

"Good," you smile, resting the perfume bottle back on your dresser before grabbing your phone and holding your hand out to her.

She interlocks her fingers with yours as you both leave the suite, the sinking feeling in your stomach never fading.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Welp, there goes your ride home.

You watch in amusement as your roommate throws back her fourth jello shot of the night, washing it down with a gulp of beer.

You don't blame Minji for breaking her sobriety, especially after the first thing you both saw upon walking through the doors of Delta Sigma Phi was Namjoon leaning against the foyer wall with another girl in his arms. While they weren't official official, Minji loves really hard. And you think Namjoon knew that.

Needless to say, Minji instantly grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the kitchen, where mountains of various alcohol bottles covered the counter.

Minji's not an alcoholic by any means, but she, just like her twin brother, are quick to take it down and even quicker to bring it back up.

A few months ago, during the Autumn fraternity vs. sorority fundraiser, she got so drunk that she blacked out going down the soapy slip-and-slide.

You and Jungkook—well, mostly Jungkook—carried her all the way to his car. Since he was a sober monitor for Delta Sigma Phi, he drove you both home. He ended up staying at your place for the rest of the night while you slowly sipped on strawberry soju and watched Netflix, checking on Minji every so often.

She hasn't had a drink since that night, so her tolerance is probably super low. But that doesn't stop her from handing you a raspberry jello shot before grabbing another from the table and sucking it down like someone might take it from her.

You giggle, gently wiping away the pink droplet of liquid trailing down the corner of her lip with your thumb. She offers you a dazed smile, her eyes hooded, the effects of the alcohol clearly weaving through her system.

"You okay, Min?"

She beams back at you, a little spark lighting up her glossy eyes, "Mhm. Just wanna have fun tonight."

"Okay," you respond softly, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

Her head suddenly snaps to the living room. "Oooh, they're playing spin the bottle! Let's go playyy!" Minji gasps, tapping your arm excitedly.

You glance at the game that caught her attention and scan the players. There are a few of your friends, mixed with other people from school whose names you couldn't remember if someone held a gun to your head.

You pat Minji's hand, which was still tapping your arm, telling her to go play and stay close to Yoongi and Hobi. She nods, rushing over to the game with a big smile and plopping down between your friends.

You look down at the jello shot you're still yet to ingest and put it back on the table. Grabbing a solo cup, you pour some cranberry juice into it, glancing at the types of vodkas on display. Your nose scrunches at the cheap brands, your manicured nail tapping the side of the cup in thought before you remember something.

Cup in hand, you make your way to the cupboard below the kitchen sink and pull it open, smiling in triumph as you spot the object of your desire at the back of the cabinet. Bending down, you reach for the bottle quickly before anyone notices you.

"That's off limits."

The familiar smell of his cologne floods your senses before you process his words. You straighten up with a small smile, resting your cup on the counter and turning to face the boy with the pricey bottle of vodka in your hands.

"Even to me?" Your lips pull into a knowing pout, and Jungkook has to force his gaze away from them. Instead, his eyes trail over your outfit, which, in hindsight, was an even dumber idea.

His breath hitches in his fucking throat at the sight of your dress, doing nothing to support your boobs that threaten to spill from the pretty little white fabric. The knot in the noose, though, is the necklace he gifted you on your nineteenth birthday, resting innocently between the valley of your anything-but-innocent tits.

He shakes his head, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly as he steps closer to you. You fiddle with the bottle cap while he closes the distance, giving you a moment to drink in how effortlessly his arms fill out his white box-tee.

"No," he says softly, almost laughing at the thought of ever denying you something. "Not you." He takes his bottle of Belvedere from your grasp and unscrews the cap.

You rest against the kitchen sink as your best friend, now less than an inch from your body, reaches around you to grab your cup from the counter. He doesn't say anything as he pours the vodka into the cup, using his familiarity with your favorite drink to know when to stop. Your finger lightly traces over the tattoos spilling from his right sleeve absentmindedly, and he should tell you to stop, or he might drop the cup. But he doesn't.

Once he deems there's enough alcohol in the mix, he lifts the cup to his lips to take a sip. You wait patiently, letting him do his little lip purse before splashing a bit more vodka into the cup and holding it out to you. You take it with a grateful smile, bringing the drink to your lips to taste it as he leans over to get a solo cup of his own. You almost groan when the vodka cranberry hits your tongue. Obviously, it's perfect. He’s annoying like that.

Once Jungkook finishes mixing his drink, he takes a mouthful before returning to you. He catches the way your gaze is fixed on the ground, distraction clouding your eyes, cup resting against your lips as you get lost in your head.

You snap out of it almost instantly when he gets closer to you, putting the cup down next to you so you can slink your arms around his neck when he leans down. But before he allows the feeling of you against his body to make him forget every thought inside his brain, he speaks.

"What's wrong?" he murmurs into the skin of your neck, blindly putting his cup on the counter behind you so he can slip his hands around your waist.

You're quiet for a moment, and if it wasn't for the slight stutter in your fingers playing with the clasp of his Cartier chain, he would think you didn't hear him. He doesn't repeat his question, though, knowing you will answer him in your own time. And even if you don't, that's okay too. But he just won't leave your side the entire night if you're feeling vulnerable.

Yeah, nice excuse for not wanting to leave her alone; his subconscious laughs viciously at him. Jungkook ignores it by burying his face into your neck further.

Your fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck while you take a deep breath, the calming scent of him grounding you. "I don't know," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tightens his hold on you, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. "Are you getting sick?"

"Yeah, probably. I've just had this weird feel—"

"Kookie, there you are! I thought you got lost getting my drink—oh, hi, Y/N!"

Jungkook stiffens before he lifts himself from you slightly at the sound of Aerum's voice.

You untangle your hand from his hair, poking your head around the side of his large frame to look at the girl strutting into the kitchen. She's pretty, you think as you give her outfit a once-over. If only she wasn't such an insufferable phony, maybe you'd be a little warmer towards her. Maybe.

"Hey, Aerum," you greet uninterestedly, leaning away from Jungkook and ignoring the way he tries to keep you near him.

Lost in his own house? You internally roll your eyes. Why even bother saying something so stupid—

"Is it this one?" she smiles once she reaches you both, grabbing your cup from the counter and taking a sip. "Oh wow, Kookie, it's so good! Is it vodka? Shit, what brand is this?" Aerum squeaks as she takes another sip of your drink.

Jungkook's lips part as he's about to say something about the drink, but you reply with a bored expression, "Belvedere."

Aerum lets out a confused hum as you name the $300 bottle of alcohol. "Huh. I've never heard of it."

You nod, grabbing a bottle of cheap beer as you brush past her to leave the kitchen. "Exactly."

Jungkook and Aerum's hushed conversation fades into the background as you move further away. You reach the living room, where Minji is giggling between Hobi and Yoongi. She grins widely when she sees you enter the room. "Jagi! Come and play!"

You laugh at your roommate, who now has two more empty Jello shot cups and a bottle of cider beside her, which explains the affectionate nickname.

Once you reach the circle, Yoongi and Hobi lean up to give you a hug in greeting before you smush a kiss on Minji's forehead. "Maybe later, jagi. Have you seen our brothers?”

“Mhm! They went outside for a smoke!” She replies distractedly as she’s staring intently at the bottle spinning in the middle of the circle.

You run a hand gently over her hair before turning to Yoongi. Since he’s sober D for his boyfriend tonight, you ask if he can keep an eye on her while they finish their game and if she needs to go home or gets too much to handle, to come and tell you.

Yoongi nods at you with a smile, and you return it before spotting a familiar head of black hair peeking over the back of the couch on the other side of the room.

Approaching the couch quietly, you softly put your beer on the ground before leaning over and covering his eyes with your hands. Mingyu flinches at the unexpected contact, his phone falling from his hands to his lap, but then relaxes as if something clicks.

His warm hands come up to yours, removing them from his eyes before he turns to you with a stunned smile. He takes you in for a second before shaking his head and leaning up on the couch.

You're about to give him a hug but he suddenly wraps his arms around your body, easily pulling you over the couch and laying you down beneath him. You squeal loudly in surprise before it's replaced by soft giggles as Mingyu attacks your neck with kisses, peppering them over every inch of skin he can find.

You draw a breath when there's a slight break in his assault and gesture to your heels digging uncomfortably into the couch. He leans back immediately and pulls them off your feet, placing them on the coffee table with haste that makes you laugh.

Turning back, he lowers his frame to you, your legs subconsciously separating to let him press closer, and he resumes his work on your neck. His kisses move lower, and you let out a sigh at the feeling before he reaches the exposed skin of side-boob peeking from your dress. You let out a quick gasp, grabbing his face with your hands and pulling him up to your face.

He grins at you cheekily, knowing he wouldn't get far but can't find it in himself to regret the action. "Was wondering when you'd get here," he says softly, his voice filled with affection. Your pouty fucking lips covered in that pretty fucking lip gloss distracts him for a moment, and he breathes a dazed sigh, leaning down to rest his face on your chest.

You blame it on the alcohol when the sick feeling in your stomach suddenly returns at the touch of Mingyu's skin on yours.

You blame it on the alcohol when all you can think about as you run your fingers through Mingyu's hair is how it's not as soft as Jungkook's.

You blame it on the alcohol when you let Mingyu snuggle closer into your neck in hopes that you'll feel the same warm sensation as when Jungkook does it.

The nausea, the thoughts of your best friend while you have a gorgeous man on top of you, the pounding in your head as his lips get closer and closer to your necklace. You blame all of it on the alcohol.

The one single sip of fucking alcohol you've consumed tonight.

"Can you pass me my beer, please?" You choke out as his lips are a millimeter away from reaching the skin where your necklace sits.

Mingyu pulls back with a smile, and you almost want to frown at the sweet boy. He deserves so much better. "It's just on the ground over there," you point to the back of the couch, and he nods, leaning over and grabbing your drink.

You release a heavy breath while you play with the hem of his dress shirt when something catches your attention from the corner of your eye. Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric.

There, leaning with his back against the living room wall, is your best friend with Aerum's lips attached to his neck like a blowfish. Jungkook's brows are furrowed, most likely in pleasure, and his eyes are squeezed shut.

Another wave of the sick feeling washes over you, and you almost let out a frustrated grunt. What the actual fuck is going on with you?

Mingyu leans back on the couch, now with your beer in his hand. Before he can open the cap for you, you snatch it from his hand and toss it to the carpet carelessly. He looks at you curiously, about to ask you what's wrong, but you sit up and swing your leg over his thigh, effectively lodging the words in his throat.

His brows shoot up in surprise before he catches on, his hands finding your waist when you don't waste time pressing your lips to his. Mingyu groans into your mouth when you suckle on his tongue lightly, starting to move against him. Your dress begins to ride up with your movements and deepen the kiss while simultaneously grinding harder into his lap. You can feel him getting harder through the fabric of his jeans, and you zone in on it.

Squeezing your eyes closed tighter to focus, you drag yourself over his covered cock, letting the zipper of his pants graze against your panties. Mingyu detaches from your lips at the sensation, his head throwing back onto the couch as his breathing picks up.

Your hands rest against his chest as you swivel your hips quicker, trying everything you can to spark something in you. Mingyu chokes out a strained fuck when you find the outline of his shaft and let the lips of your covered pussy drag along it.

Nothing. You feel nothing. What the fucking fuck.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is losing himself. His head is still thrown back in pleasure, and you take the opportunity to lean forward and latch your lips to his neck. Your teeth nibble at the skin below his jaw, and he shivers at the action, his hands losing grip on your waist and falling to the swell of your ass. Your movements still haven't relented, grinding against him like you're the only two in the room, and Mingyu doesn't want to admit just how fucking close he is.

He's about to suggest that you guys take it to his room when he feels one of your hands trail down from his chest. His head lifts up to see what you're going to do next, and god, he wishes he didn't, because when you cover the hand of his that's loosely resting on your left asscheek and squeeze? He almost cums in his fucking pants like a teenage boy that just discovered the wonders of third base.

Mingyu does as you wish, grabbing a greedy handful of the flesh with his left hand and uses his right to slide up the back of your neck, returning your mouth to his. You fall into the kiss willingly, letting him lick into your mouth. Letting him take whatever he wants. Mingyu has always been a good kisser. Not even a week ago, he had you dripping from a 10-minute make-out session on his bed. But right now, something inside you tells you that even if you went at it for an hour, it still wouldn't be enough.

You push the sadistic thoughts from your brain and tangle your hands in his hair, nodding against his lips when his hand on your neck drops to your other asscheek and squeezes tightly.

Yes, you think. Touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere. Something is bound to—

"What the fuck?"

Your lips immediately detach from Mingyu's at the sound of the familiar voice booming behind you. You adjust the front of your clothes, which have twisted out of place, and quickly climb off Mingyu's lap. Pulling down the hem of the dress that also rode up a few minutes ago, you blink guiltily at the man staring at you with a disturbed look.

"On my couch? That's disgusting. Take it upstairs or take it to your place, Y/N." Taehyung grits, shaking his head as if it would somehow rid the image of you mounting his frat-mate from his memory.

"Sorry, Tae," you reply to your brother with a purse of your lips before getting over it and looking around for your phone that fell from the pocket of your cover-up.

Mingyu is speechless, gawking at his frat president in horror, not knowing what to say or do. He watches as you finally find the phone wedged between the couch cushions before you lean back onto his chest and scroll through your notifications, un-fucking-concerned.

Mingyu chokes on air, gently lifting you off him and sitting you back up on the seat properly. You give him a confused look, and he returns your gaze with a panicked expression, glancing between you and your brother, who is still standing there glaring at him.

You roll your eyes, lifting Mingyu's arm and throwing it over your shoulder, returning to your previous position. "Don't take him seriously, Gyu. I can't even recall how many times I've accidentally walked in on him and my own friends from high school. And they were doing a lot more than dry humping."

The fact that you aren't bothered helps Mingyu to calm down a bit, but he's still on edge with your brother staring him down.

You glance up at Mingyu when his chest remains stiff beneath your head, and you sigh before turning to your brother. "Tae, you're scaring him. We won't do anything else on your couch, okay? Now shoo, please." You wave him off with your hand.

Your brother just rolls his eyes, looking a little too much like you for your liking, before he nods and says he'll return to patrol the room in 30 minutes.

You watch Taehyung disappear behind the door frame as he heads into another room, and you turn to Mingyu with a teasing grin. "30 minutes? We could be done twice in that time…"

His eyes widen, and he gives another pathetic attempt at suggesting you go upstairs, but when you press your lips to his, the words fizzle out on his tongue as you entwine it with your own.

Jungkook is fucking fuming.

He's absolutely clocked out of the make-out session with Aerum, and she can probably tell that his mind is elsewhere, but he can't bring himself to care, and she makes no move to pull away either.

He feels her getting angsty, desperately wanting to escalate the situation from the way she's pressing harder against him, but Jungkook keeps the pace steady.

He needs to stay in the living room to keep an eye on you because you're obviously not in the right state of mind right now. You're not drunk; he knows what you look like when you've been drinking, and you're basically stone-cold fucking sober. But yet, there you are, one layer away from riding his housemate's cock on his very own fucking couch.

Jungkook would have intervened a long time ago, had he not seen with his own eyes that you were the one initiating every part of the act.

With every swivel of your hips, Jungkook’s heart pounded furiously against his chest. It clenched with every firm squeeze Mingyu placed on your ass, and it shattered completely as you nuzzled into Mingyu’s neck, kissing and nipping at it, just like you did to him in his dreams most nights.

He can’t tear his gaze away. He’s tried—oh, how he’s fucking tried.

He attempted to focus on the pretty girl currently whimpering into his mouth, begging him to touch her, to take her right there in the middle of the room if he so desired. But he couldn’t. His eyes were uncontrollably drawn back to you, to the way Mingyu’s hips lifted to meet yours, each movement a sharp twist to the knife lodged in his pathetic heart.

"Shit," Mingyu groans when the curve of his cock straining against his jeans meets your covered core. "We needa go upstairs, or I'm gonna take you right here on the couch, Y/N."

Your laugh comes out breathy from the frantic movements of your hips as you ignore him, and you lean up so his face can nuzzle between your tits. Your boobs are very sensitive, and that usually does the trick to turn you on.

Why. Isn't. It. Turning. You. On.

You let out a frustrated groan that Mingyu mistakes as a moan of pleasure as he leaves wet kisses against the exposed skin of your tits before he reaches the necklace that's wedged between them. "Fuck, I love this. It's so pretty but looks so dirty on you."

Your skin suddenly fires up at his words, and you feel your hips stutter slightly. "Yeah?" you question in a rush, grinding harder against him to chase the feeling.

"Mhm," he nods, brushing his nose over the pendant.

"Bite it."

He looks up at you, his gaze locking with yours filled with a hunger that hadn't been present all night.

"Bite it?" he repeats, his voice a mix of confusion and intrigue, hips meeting yours halfway as your movements become sloppier, more desperate.

Your head tilts as you nod desperately, "Please bite it."

Mingyu's eyes flicker down to your chest, and he leans in, his lips grazing the skin near your necklace. Your breath catches as he nears the pendant with its two little conjoined rings. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing the whine that threatens to escape.

He plants a lingering kiss on the surrounding flesh before finally catching the pendant between his teeth. You can't hold back the loud moan that escapes your lips—

It happens in the blink of an eye.

You tumble onto the couch cushions as Mingyu is abruptly yanked away and thrown to the living room floor.

You watch in shock as Jungkook pounces on him instantly, Mingyu barely having a moment to react before Jungkook's fist comes crashing down. It connects with Mingyu's jaw with a sickening crunch that reverberates through the room, drawing the attention of a few partygoers.

Mingyu attempts a recovery, throwing a jab that snaps Jungkook's head to the side, but Jungkook quickly regains his focus. He reels his fist back and hammers another brutal punch into Mingyu's face, then another, then another, then another.

Jungkook doesn't know how many punches he's thrown, or how long he's been on top of his housemate, or whose arms grab him from behind to pull him off Mingyu.

His breathing comes in ragged gasps, his knuckles sting with a throbbing pain, and a fierce rage burns through his veins, consuming him entirely. Adrenaline surges through him as he watches Yoongi and Hobi lift a bloodied, struggling Mingyu off the ground.

"What the fuck, Kook?" Taehyung's voice snaps him out of his daze as he and Jimin drag him to his feet.

You remain frozen on the couch, not shifting an inch. Your gaze is fixed on Mingyu as a cluster of people surround him. One person carefully presses a damp rag against his bloodied face while he leans heavily against the wall, another extends a bottle of water towards his shaking hands.

From the grasp of your brother, Jungkook's eyes follow you as you rise and weave through the crowd around Mingyu.

His heart clenches as he watches the pained expression on your face, the saddest he's ever seen. He watches as you whisper something to Mingyu, who shakes his head weakly and reaches out to pull you closer. Instead, you gently grasp his hand, stroking his knuckles with your thumb as tears start to pool in your eyes.

He sees the moment you utter one final word to Mingyu before you let his hand drop softly to his side and walk away

You return to the coffee table, grabbing your shoes and phone before immediately heading for the exit. You spot Minji, who has tears flowing down her cheeks, and she breaks from Yoongi's hold before pulling you into the tightest hug she can muster.

"Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay? What the fuck was that?!" she cries into your shoulder. You almost smile, knowing her emotions always spill over when she's been drinking, but you couldn't muster one even if you tried. Gently pulling away, you dab at the tears under her eyes before turning your attention to Yoongi.

"Can you take her home, please? I'm going to catch an Uber and I feel like being alone for a bit," you half-lie. You're going to walk home, but he doesn't need to know that. He wouldn't let you walk alone at this time.

"Y/N," Yoongi sighs. He didn't miss the way you dodged her question. He wants to urge you to let him drive you home as well, but the resolve in your eyes tells him you won't budge. "Yeah, I'll make sure she gets home safe."

"Thank you," your voice cracks slightly at the end as you squeeze his hand and leave the room before he can stop you.

You can hear footsteps trailing behind you as you reach the door, and you abandon the mission of slipping into your heels, quickly slipping out the door and slamming it behind you.

The cold concrete bites at your bare feet as you hurry down the steps of the frat house, but you barely notice. The sound of the door swinging open behind you only quickens your pace.

"Please, Y/N. Wait. Please."

The tears you've held back since the moment he climbed on top of Mingyu suddenly fall without your permission, and you scoff, wiping them away furiously.

You don't say anything as you reach the path out of the university and continue your trek to your penthouse. It's dark, the sparse lights of the school providing little guidance, but you don't care. You just keep walking.

When Jungkook catches up to you and tries to take your hand, something inside you explodes. You snatch your arm away furiously, your heels and phone dropping from your hands as you turn to face him. Before you know what you're doing, you push against his chest, shoving him away from you. He barely moves and that makes you even angrier. “Fuck you, Jeongguk!” You shove him again, "Fuck you," again, "Fuck you," again, "Fuck you."

Your voice trembles on the last words, and you can't stop the sob from wracking your body. He reacts instantly, stepping forward to pull you into his arms as you break down.

His hands cradle the back of your head as you shake against his chest, his heart clenching at the sound of your cries. "I'm so sorr—"

You pull away from him, running your sleeve over your face to wipe at the tears. "What about your future, Jeongguk? What if he presses charges? If this gets back to your parents? Affects your student record?" You shake your head in utter disbelief, your hands running through your hair in an attempt to ground yourself. "Mingyu is such a good guy, how could you even—fuck." Mingyu.

Your heart clenches at the memory of him trying to keep you close even after he had the shit beaten out of him. You brought him into this mess. That was all fucking you.

"You can't do shit like that, Jeongguk! You c-can't," you stammer, batting his hand away as your voice cracks again, "You had no right to do that."

"I know, Y/N!" His voice rises, and you see tears welling in his own eyes. "I fucking know! I know I didn't have any right to do that. And I fucking hate it!"

You're speechless, but Jungkook isn't finished, "I had no right to punch Lee Seo-jun when he gave you your first kiss, so I didn't. I had no right to punch Kang Doyun when you told me he felt you up for the first time, so I didn't. I had no right to punch Jeong Jaehyun every time I watched him have you like I wanted to have you, so I fucking didn't!"

Tears stream down your face unchecked as Jungkook's hands gently cup your face, his thumbs trembling as they try to wipe your tears away. "I had no right to punch Mingyu because he has everything I want. But I did. And I know you don't want to hear it, but I don't fucking regret—"

"I hate you."

Jungkook doesn't know what to do when he hears you say those words. He stumbles back slightly, his throat tightening, and his heart slams against his chest so hard he thinks it's about to crack through his skin.

A trembly shake of his head, "No—"

Your tears stop as abruptly as they came, your gaze hollow and resigned. "We need some space. This is unhealth—"

"No, please," the tips of his ears turn red as he chokes back a sob, "I fucked up, baby, I know. I'm gonna fix it. Let me fix it. I don't want space, I-I can't have space," his words tumble out desperately, completely unaware of the nickname that slips out. But it doesn't matter; nothing does, if you leave him.

You pull your face from his grasp and take a small step backward. The weak light posts give you just enough vision to see his bloodshot eyes and broken expression. Your hand twitches, yearning to brush his hair away from his face and wipe his tears—the tears he's crying for you.

Don’t be fucking stupid, your subconscious snarls.

Those tears aren't for you. They're for the idea of you.

If he doesn't have you, who's he going to cuddle up to at night when he's bored and doesn't have a pussy appointment to get to?

Who will pass on his Instagram handle to their classmates when they rave about his insane dick game and want to try it for themselves?

Who will drag him to mandatory family gatherings, knowing his dad would slash his trust fund for missing yet another one?

Not Kim Bora, his first kiss, a week before your own with Lee Seo-jun.

Not Park Soojin, the first girl he felt up under the shirt, three days before you let Kang Doyun do the same to you.

Not Cho Eunji, the only girl he ever took on a second date, the night that you made things official with Jeong Jaehyun.

You spent countless nights crying over a boy who saw you merely as a friend. The little sister that tagged along to playdates because her brother wasn’t allowed to have fun without her. The spoiled daughter of his father’s closest friend, who he was obligated to protect at school because she never hesitated to voice her blunt opinions, especially to those she thought sucked.

The same girl who saved the most sacred part of herself for her best friend. The girl who, without hesitation, turned down every single guy who promised they'd cherish such a precious gift. The girl who prayed to a God she didn't even believe in, hoping Jungkook would realize that the person who loved and cared for him most was right before his eyes all along.

All for that very boy to carelessly give his innocence to some random chick at a high school party, not even bothering to call her the next day.

That was the moment your perception of love shifted. That was the moment you stopped looking for what his words and touches could mean, and started seeing them for what they were. Friendly. Insincere. Meaningless.

You thought the day Jungkook confessed his feelings would be the happiest of your life. You imagined it would erase all the pain, all the tears, as if they were nothing more than a pathetic nightmare.

But you don't feel happy. You feel angry. Angry that the words you've longed to hear don't make you want to fall into his arms and never leave. Instead, they make you want to run and never come back.

So you do exactly that.

You ignore your phone and shoes lying on the pavement. You ignore your best friend's croaky shout of your name. You ignore that the stony road leading away from the University grounds only grows darker and darker the further you go. You ignore the sharp ache in your feet from the rocks beneath your bare soles. And you run.

You run faster than you ever have in your entire life. You run until your legs burn, unused to anything but your two weekly low-impact fucking pilate sessions. You run until Jungkook's yelling fades into the distance behind you.

You run until you can almost see the lights of the main street. You run until you hear his footsteps gaining on you, the stupid lacrosse captain clearing the distance twice as fast as you ever could. You run until the thumping of your heart drowns out the pain of the sticks and rubble digging into your feet.

You run until the light gets brighter. You run until the light gets closer. You run until you realize they aren't streetlights. You run until you realize it's the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. You run until you can't stop yourself quickly enough. You run until you hear the scream of your best friend behind you. You run until you don't feel the impact of the hit. You run until the world around you fades to black.

Your head hits the pavement hard, bouncing slightly.

Jungkook's arms are around you in an instant, cradling you close as he sobs, "No, no, no, baby, please."

The driver of the car, a college kid who looks just as shaken, gets out to check on you, his face pale and stricken.

"Go to the frat house and get Taehyung. Now." Jungkook barks at the boy, though his eyes never leave your face.

The kid nods frantically, dashing back towards campus, stumbling in his haste. Jungkook pays him no attention, his tears falling onto your face as he holds you tighter.

"Hold on, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over his sobs. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

You lay limp in his embrace, your breathing shallow. His tears mix with the dirt and blood on your face as he presses his forehead against yours, his entire body shaking with sobs. He holds you tighter, rocking back and forth as he brushes the hair away from your face.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he sat there in the dark, the cold night air wrapping around you both. What was realistically no more than two minutes felt like two hours. The distant sounds of the campus were muffled, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Jungkook's tears didn't stop, his heart breaking more and more with each passing second of your silence.

"Ow, fuck." You groan weakly.

Jungkook's grip tightens as he lifts his head. "Y/N," he chokes softly, his hand supporting your head as you try to sit up. "D-Don't try to move too much. We're gonna—we're gonna get you to the hospital, okay?"

You looked at him, your eyes filled with confusion and pain. "Did I really just get hit by a fucking car?"

He shook his head with a teary laugh, his fingers gently caressing your hair. "No," he sniffled. "I managed to tackle you b-before... But you hit your head when we fell. I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, your hand resting on his head when he rested it on your chest, and you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry."

His breathing stops, and he looks at you with the most saddened expression you've ever seen. "W-why the fuck would you say that? Don't apologize. None of this is your fault," Jungkook shook his head, his tears falling anew.

"I'm sorry for saying I hate you," you said softly, your hand resting on the side of his neck as he trembled. "If anything’s going to teach me of all people a lesson, it’s a near-death experience...” You let out a pained laugh, “Would hate if that was the last thing I ever said to you.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. "Y/N, you don't know how much I l—"

The sound of frantic footsteps interrupts him. Taehyung's voice calls out in panic, and within moments, he’s kneeling beside you, his face a mix of fear and relief.

"Oh fuck, Y/N," he said, his voice shaking as he quickly assesses your condition. "C'mon, we need to get you to a hospital," he says through teary eyes.

With Jungkook's help, you managed to get to your feet, leaning heavily on him for support. Taehyung saw you struggling to keep your balance and quickly scooped you into his arms, jogging over to his car he left running. He gently placed you in the backseat, and Jungkook was on the other side in an instant, getting you comfortable while your brother rushed to the driver's seat.

As you drove to the hospital, Jungkook didn’t let go of your hand.

Not as he forced you to drink from the water bottle Taehyung passed back to you. Not as he leaned your head on his chest, gently inspecting your scalp for any severe cuts or bleeding. Not as you grunted at him when he jiggled you slightly every time you closed your eyes for a second too long, worried that you were losing consciousness.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

"You've got a mild concussion," Dr. Choi said with a reassuring smile, her voice calm and professional. "You were fortunate. Your head hit the ground hard, but thankfully, there are no signs of severe trauma or bleeding."

Beside you, Jungkook's grip on your hand tightened. He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his gaze fixed anxiously on the doctor. "So, she's going to be okay?"

In the cushioned armchair next to your hospital bed, your brother shifted slightly in his sleep. You reached over to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, careful not to wake him.

Lately, his roles as frat president, lacrosse captain, and his involvement in the family business had worn him thin. The exhaustion had overwhelmed him, and he had fallen asleep almost as soon as he settled into the chair. This really is the last thing he needs to be doing, and so with a final look of guilt, you let your brother rest and turned back to Dr. Choi.

Dr. Choi responded to Jungkook with a nod. "Yes, she'll be fine," she assured him. "Concussions can cause symptoms like dizziness, headache, nausea, and fatigue. She might feel drowsy and out of sorts for a few days, but with rest and avoiding any strenuous activities, she should recover fully within a week."

You blinked, your head still throbbing but feeling a bit more relieved. "So, I can go home?"

"Yes," the doctor confirmed, writing some notes on your chart. "I'm going to release you shortly. Make sure you rest, avoid any physical exertion, and stay hydrated. If you experience any worsening symptoms—like severe headache, vomiting, or confusion—come back immediately, okay?"

Jungkook gave the doctor a firm nod. "We will."

Dr. Choi smiled at him, a soft expression on her face. "Good. And make sure she avoids screens for a bit—no phones, no computers, no TV. Just rest."

You groan while Jungkook just signals his understanding.

As the doctor turned to leave the room and finalize your discharge papers, she glanced back with a knowing smile. "And maybe a break from the drama for a little while too?"

Jungkook's head hung low as he continued to gently caress the back of your hand with his thumb.

"No more boys and no more running into traffic, got it. Thanks, doc." You nodded at the middle-aged woman, who gave you one last amused look before leaving the room.

That was six days ago.

The throbbing ache and, more importantly, the big ugly bump that was once on your forehead have now almost completely faded. If it hadn't, and you were stuck with a permanent scar on your face, you would've hunted down the kid who nearly hit you with his car and told him to finish the job.

Speaking of that kid, he tried to reach out to you quite a few times since you've been absent from classes. He couldn't get in direct contact with you since Jungkook had confiscated all of your devices, but he was persistent. He bugged almost every person he knew to be a close friend of yours until finally, on the second to last day of your 'quarantine', being the chronic people-pleaser that he is, Jimin cracked and brought him to your penthouse.

You were lounging on the sofa, your head resting in Jungkook’s lap as he read aloud to you, when Jimin ushered him in. You felt Jungkook stiffen instantly, and it took your sitting up and pressing down on his thigh to keep him from lunging at the poor boy.

His name is Lee Yongbok, an exchange student from Australia. He's a freshman, 19 years old, and his Korean dialect is fucking adorable.

Yongbok’s eyes were brimming with tears when he saw you, apologies tumbling from his lips for what felt like an eternity before you gently cut him off.

You first asked him if he was crying at your appearance and he just shook his head with a wobbly lip and said he’s just really happy to see you. Thank god. You were worried there was another bump somewhere that Jungkook hadn’t told you about.

You told him it was okay, that it wasn't his fault. That you were the crazy lady who ran in front of his car. That he did nothing wrong.

He dropped to his knees at your kindness, something nobody had ever done before. In fact, "kind" was probably the last word anyone would ever use to describe you.

He offered to pay for any medical bills, any necessities, anything you might need or couldn't afford. You giggled at the thought.

You thanked him for coming to see you. You told him not to lose any sleep over it, that you're okay and he's okay. You gave him your number and told him that when your grouchy caregiver returns your phone, you'd send him a text.

When he was about to depart, he asked if he could give you a hug. You nodded, telling him to come closer because Jungkook's hand was not letting go of your waist.

Yongbok happily pulled you and Jungkook into a joint hug since he refused to move. Jungkook reluctantly participated, giving the kid a pat on the back while he snuggled you both and you couldn't stop the loud laugh that escaped your lips.

Yongbok thanked you one last time before he left with Jimin and Minji, telling you to please let him know if you think of anything you may need. What a sweet boy.

Aside from making amends with Yongbok, and your close friends visiting your penthouse throughout the week to bring your schoolwork and random gifts, you haven’t had much interaction with the outside world.

You haven’t seen Mingyu since that night.

In person, at least. You've been texting frequently and even FaceTimed a few times. His eye was healing well, for which you’re very grateful.

The night Jungkook brought you home after the hospital, you found several missed calls from Mingyu on your phone that Yoongi delivered when he saw it on the ground outside whilst taking Minji home.

Your device ban hadn’t started yet, so you called him back immediately and spent over two hours talking and crying. You apologized for everything you had dragged him into, and he insisted you had nothing to be sorry for.

Mingyu truly is the kindest and most gentle soul, and you’ll always regret hurting him the way you did.

During that conversation, he told you he loved you.

Even though it took a messed-up situation to realize it, you knew you had love for Mingyu too. He had always been there for you whenever you needed someone, whether the nights you spent together were fueled by lust and sexual frustration or not, they were meaningful and amazing. He made it so easy to love him, even if your feelings couldn’t match the depth of his.

Mingyu had undoubtedly gotten the short end of the stick in your relationship, always giving more than he received. In your newfound friendship, you are determined to make it up to him. And you will.

Jungkook, too, had been deeply affected by the night’s events. After you finished up with Mingyu, Jungkook took your phone when you handed it to him and disappeared for an hour.

As far as you know, Jungkook apologized and they talked it out. Neither of them like going into much detail with you about it, which is a little frustrating, but you respect their privacy and don’t push further.

Jungkook did come back into your room with red puffy eyes though, and you softly teased him about crying before you snuggled up together and watched a movie.

Jungkook had taken a week off classes to look after you. You rolled your eyes when he first told you, not taking him seriously. But when you woke up the next day, cuddled against his chest while he scrolled through his TikTok feed, you started to believe him.

And when you tried to lean up and see what he was watching, only for him to immediately turn the device away, adhering to the doctor's orders of no screens, you realized just how serious he was.

Over the past six days, you've fallen into a stupid little domestic routine. Now, as you're almost fully recovered and preparing to return to classes tomorrow, a grey cloud looms over you both. The topic you haven't dared to address since that night is getting closer, heavier. You can both feel it.

That's why, as Jungkook slowly packs his clothes into his overnight bag in preparation for tomorrow and you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your nails, the room is enveloped in a heavy silence.

You knew it was a bad idea to let him stay. To ignore everything that should've been sorted the first morning after the incident. But instead you chose to live in blissful ignorance for six days while you play fucking house.

But come on. Having Jungkook dote on you and care for you for an entire week? Please, that's every female student at Yonsei's wet dream. Quite a few guys, too.

You look up from your nails as he zips up his bag, kicking it to the corner of the room before resting the clothes he'll wear tomorrow on your dresser. He looks over at you, walking to the edge of the bed. For the first time in all the years you’ve consciously known him, he hesitates to touch you.

You blink at him, not moving, not saying anything.

Finally, Jungkook breaks the silence, his voice quiet and raspy, "Should we talk?"

You swallowed, nodding slightly. "Okay."

He sits down beside you, close but not touching. "I meant it, you know. Everything I said."

You hesitate, your gaze fixed down on your painted toes. "And what did you say?"

You can feel his eyes on you, but you don't look up. He brushes some hair—that's growing out nicely as you put it—behind his ear before taking a deep breath. He can't fuck this up.

"I've been in love with you since I learned what love was."

The room goes silent. Neither of you dare to even breathe.

"Wha-huh?"

"I've been in love with you ever since I learned what love was," You repeat.

You finally look at him, and he can't decipher the expression on your face. His eyes flicker between yours, searching for any sign that this is a prank, that Minji is about to burst in with a camera and tell him he's on live television.

"Maybe even before that," you continue, "but I just didn't know what it meant."

Jungkook’s heart races, each beat erratic and intense. He feels like he's about to pass the fuck out.

"No," he croaks.

You blink, "No?"

"No," he shakes his head, "you can't. Y-you can't be. That's not—you're n—what—what the fuck?"

You watch, silent, as he struggles with your revelation, the weight of your words clearly unsettling him.

Oh, you think. You've freaked him out by dropping the L word.

Well, you definitely misread the room there.

It’s not like you haven’t said "I love you" before. You tell each other that often enough—when he drops you off somewhere, at the end of your phone calls, when you give each other random gifts that remind you of the other.

But "I'm in love with you"? Yeah, that one’s a bit new…

Your stomach tightens, but you stay quiet, watching as his hand moves desperately through his hair, as if he doesn’t know what to do.

After a few minutes, he stops and turns to you. He didn't plan for it to go this way. He doesn't know what to fucking do.

You sigh, “I know this changes shit. Ruins everything. I thought I had it under control, but I really don't. And I'm not strong enough to keep pretending. So, if you're okay with still being in each other's lives, we need to set some clear boundari—"

"I fucking love you, Y/N." He kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands into both of his larger ones. "I've been obsessed with you since your mom brought you over to my house when we were five, and you told me my eyes looked like boba pearls."

You look into his eyes as he says that. They really do remind you of tapioca pearls…

"I can't remember a single day of my entire life where I haven't been in love with you. There is no me without you. You are all I can see when I think of my past and all I can see when I think of my future. No matter what you are to me, you're there. In every plan I make. In every dream I have. It's you. It's always been you."

You bite the inside of your bottom lip, fighting back tears. You’ve cried more in the last week than you have in your entire adult life.

"We are so fucking stupid." You sniffle, tipping your head back slightly to try and blink the tear up into your duct.

"We are," he agrees, gently tilting your head down and running his thumb under your lash line to catch the tear.

Once your face is dry, Jungkook's thumb travels down and brushes lightly over your bottom lip. He smiles when it feels exactly as he had imagined, another item mentally ticked off his bucket list.

You're about to ask if he's high when he suddenly springs into action, tackling you back onto the bed. You bounce slightly against the mattress as he holds himself up, careful not to squash you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as you try, and fail, to suppress a smile at the idiot above you.

"It fucking sucked seeing you with other guys," he confesses, the words he’s been holding back for years finally breaking free.

Your fingers dance across his back, tracing idle patterns on the fabric of his shirt as you respond, “It fucking sucked seeing you with other girls.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you, a pout on his lips. "You should've told me, and I would've—"

“You should've told me!” you interject, giving him a playful smack on the chest. His frown deepens for a moment before breaking into a wide, uncontrollable grin.

He buries his head back into your neck, and you can feel him smiling against you. "You're such a loser," you giggle as you feel his teeth on your neck, not in a sexy biting way but because he's literally fucking grinning against you.

Time slips by quietly as your fingers sketch invisible designs across his back. Eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence. “Do you think we knew?” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“Hmm?” you hum, your hand pausing in its motion to thread through his hair.

He shivers slightly under your touch before elaborating, “Do you think we knew that we were in love with each other?”

Your movements resume, alternating between letting his hair slip through your fingers and gentle scalp scratches. “Yeah, I think so."

He nestles closer, the sensation of your nails against his scalp coaxing a suppressed groan from him. "Why do you think we didn't say anything?"

"I don't know," you reply honestly. "Maybe we were too comfortable. Or maybe we were scared of what it would actually mean."

Jungkook lifts his gaze to meet yours, searching your eyes for answers. “What does it mean?” he asks quietly.

You smile, continuing to play with his hair. “You have a lot of questions,” you tease gently.

His nose scrunches at your evasive reply, and you run your finger down the bridge of it. "Such a pretty nose," you hum.

His eyes flutter shut at the touch, then snap open again. “You’re distracting me.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards. "Am I?"

He nods, making no move to stop the traces of your digit along his face. When your finger brushes the edge of his lip, he turns his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of your finger, his actions drawing a gentle smile from you.

"You don't—do you not want to," he starts, hesitating mid-sentence before pushing himself to continue, “be with me?”

You bite your lip thoughtfully, finishing your gentle explorations of his face, your hand settling back onto his back. “I want to be with you more than anything else in the world, Gukkie.”

He lets out a breath of relief at your words, but his face falls slightly when he senses your hesitation. "But?"

"But," you say softly, "I'm scared. I'd rather have you in my life as my best friend than not have you at all if things don't work out."

He shakes his head, his hand cupping your face gently. “I told you. No matter what you are to me, I want you in my life. Isn’t that the same for you?”

"Of course it is, but you can't guarantee we'll feel this way in—"

“You’re such a beautiful,” he interrupts, planting a soft kiss on your jaw, “intelligent,” another on your neck, “incredible,” he continues down to your collarbone, “pessimist.” He finishes with a kiss just above your heart.

He gazes up at you with a mischievous grin as you narrow your eyes at him. "I will always want you in my life, no matter what shit ends up happening. Even if you tell me you hate me, or you like, fuck my dad or something…" He looks at you seriously, and you roll your eyes, unable to stifle your snicker.

"Well, your dad is kind of a DILF—"

“I’ll never willingly leave your life. And I’ll never do anything to make you want me to leave. And I promise you, on everything that is holy,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to a tender spot below your ear, “I’ll want you in mine for the rest of my fucking days.”

“You better,” you tease, his smile pressing into your skin before you grow serious, “because I can’t lose you.”

Jungkook’s sigh warms your skin, his nose nudging your head back as he murmurs, “You really don’t understand just how obsessed I am with you, do you, baby?”

His gaze lingers on your exposed throat, tracing every swallow, every breath. Unable to resist, he leans in, his lips finding the base of your throat, humming in contentment at the little noise you make.

Slowly, he makes his way to the side of your supple neck, his lips never detaching from your skin on his journey. You feel his breath as he hovers over the area for a second in pausing, and you wonder if it's because he can hear your heart slamming against your ribcage.

No strenuous activities.

His lips finally latch onto the skin of your neck and you feel the tiniest flick of his tongue as he suckles at the flesh.

Avoid physical exertion.

You let out the softest, breathiest fucking moan he's ever heard, and he pulls off your neck with a wet pop. His bunny teeth poke out to nibble at the now moist skin as he slowly moves to your collarbone.

Make sure you rest.

His kisses get lower, hotter, wetter, until finally, his face hovers over your thin little sleep shirt that he's considered throwing down the garbage disposal since you put it on. Bra, nowhere in sight, your hardened nipples taunt him through the pathetic excuse of a t-shirt. He glances up at you with eyes darkened with desire.

Fuck it, you've had enough rest.

You slide your hands up the back of his neck and dra him down to you, your lips meeting his with urgency. You swallow the surprised groan that escapes him, his arms framing your face as he looms over you.

Jungkook feels the tension in his muscles melt away as he surrenders to you. When you part your lips slightly, inviting him closer, he doesn't hesitate.

Your body ignites when his tongue slips into your mouth, lapping against yours and exploring as if it had always belonged there. As your back arches towards him instinctively, he slips large hand behind it, pressing you flush against him.

The countless times he's imagined this exact scenario could easily label him a certified stalker, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. He was absolutely fucked.

You're lost in the sensation, the warm air of your bedroom enveloping you blissfully. Nothing but the sounds of your mouths moving against each other's, tongues melting into one. Jungkook swallows the breathy whimper that escapes your lips with pride, his hips shifting forward at the fact that he's the one drawing such a noise from you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down, urging him to erase any space left between you.

"Fuck, Y/N," he chokes out, parting from your lips to suck in a deep breath as he feels the warmth between your thighs through his sweatpants.

"I know," you nod dumbly, mind foggy as you grind your hips into his desperately.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "It's never fucking felt like this," he confesses, each word punctuated with a thrust that draws a deeper moan from your lips.

"I know," you whine in agreement, your left arm linking around the back of his neck as you meet his movements, your entire body responding to his every move.

It hasn't felt like this. Ever. You've thought that you've had some pretty good sex in your life, but this is… different. All you’ve done is kiss and grind a little, and yet you can feel those tingles in your fucking toes that people always sing about.

It would be easy to say that it's because it's been eight long days since your last orgasm, but you know that's not the case. It's because it's him.

You've never wanted a cock in you so badly. Especially not after just three measly minutes of dry humping. But god, you're so turned on right now you're pretty sure if he pulled your panties to the side, it would spray at him like a fucking fire hydrant. As you said, it's been eight days; you're a little feral right now…

You feel him stiffening through his sweats, your back arching a little more as you shift and wiggle to try and usher his covered cock through the folds of your covered pussy.

Jungkook's hips stutter when he feels you trying to line him up, and his head jerks up to look at you. He drinks in your blissed-out features; lip between your teeth, head tilted slightly, eyes closed. So pretty.

Your eyes flutter open at the long pause in his movements, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

Cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen, eyes hooded.

You almost let a giggle slip when you see the similarities between his horny face and his drunk face.

"Do you want to take a nap?"

You blink at him.

"I'm sorry?"

The pink tinge that coats his cheeks creeps down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. "I just thought—"

"What?" you ask, maaaybe a little offended, "you don't wanna fuck me?"

His brows furrow as he sits up, his heels resting under his butt as he stares at you like you've just kicked a puppy before his very eyes. "First of all, I want to fuck you. I've wanted to fuck you since you made me pop my first boner at your dumb little pool party—"

"Jeongguk," you cringe, "we were like twe—"

"I've never wanted to fuck someone more than I. want. to. fuck. you." You almost laugh at the serious expression on his face but bite it back when you notice the undertone of worry in his gaze.

"I just want it to be perfect," he sighs, his tattooed hand lifting to brush through his hair, one of his nervous tics. "There's so much I want to do... and I want it all to be, like, perfect... god, Y/N, I'm being such a little bitch—"

"No," you cut him off simply, "you're being really fucking hot."

He looks at you with a slight pout as you shoot him a small smile before sitting up and mirroring his position. Your bare knees touch his that are covered by the gray Celine sweatpants you bought him last Christmas as a stocking stuffer. You're a good deal shorter than him, so your head is tilted up slightly, blinking at him slowly through your lashes.

You watch his gaze soften and you internally smirk. There we go.

You've waited far too long for the man sitting in front of you on your queen-sized bed—staring at you with more lust than you know what to do with—to prolong this any longer.

You can have your perfect night when you're not a week into an unplanned celibacy course, and your clit doesn't feel like it's going to shrivel up and snap off if left unattended any longer.

"If you want to wait, we'll wait." You shrug as you look from his left eye to his right, then down to his swollen lips. "But I haven't touched myself in eight days... And it hurts, Gukkie."

Your head hits the pillow as his mouth is back on yours in an instant. You moan in satisfaction, your lips parting eagerly to let him in further. Your legs wrap back around his waist happily, and your foot trails down to rub soft patterns against his hamstring while his tongue plays with yours.

"This is just a practice run," he grunts as he separates from you, kissing his way down your chest before he gets to the valley of your breasts.

"Yeah, yeah, grace period, whatever you want, baby, just keep going," you blurt in a huff, eyes closed in anticipation as his mouth is about to finally do some damage.

You almost scream when he stops.

You snap your eyes open and look down at the son of a bitch breathing hot air onto your already hot skin while he just smiles at you.

"Say that again."

"Say wha—"

"Baby. You called me baby, say it again."

You stare at him for a moment, your idea to tease him diminishing with the last of your patience.

"Baby," you add a shy pout to really sell it and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, "can you suck on them for a little?"

You watch as Jungkook's smile fades and his eyes unfocus, like he just transported into a different state. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he nods once, almost to himself, before he takes the bottom of your shirt that's ridden up to your belly button and lifts it to rest under your chin. Your tits bounce slightly as they spill from the fabric, and he lets out a soft "fuck" before diving in.

His hot mouth latches to your left nipple, groaning when he feels the bud pebble against his tongue. His lips pucker around the nub, sucking it into his mouth desperately, and he lets out a loud moan. This is it. This is heaven, he thinks.

Your legs shakily unlatch from around his waist, and you rest your feet on the mattress, your knees bent and pressing against his sides while he makes out with your tits.

His teeth graze gently over your nipple before he gives it a little nibble, which causes your back to arch. Doing so forces more of your boob into his mouth and he lets out a low muffled groan through a mouthful of your flesh.

"Mmmf've wanted these in my mouth for a long fucking time..." He slurs when he pulls back. His big hands cup your big tits, his gaze concentrated and focused as he jiggles and plays with them, like he can't believe what he's seeing.

"Do you wanna fuck them?"

Jungkook lets out a loud groan at your filthy words, spoken with such an innocent tone his cock is almost confused as it swells like a fucking water balloon in his pants.

His left hand continues to rub soothingly at one of your tender nipples while the other slips down between you. He looks up at the blurry need in your eyes, and his traveling hand almost misses the waistband of his sweats.

"I always knew you were dirty," he breathes out, the words muffled as he plants soft, wet kisses on each of your nipples, sending shivers down your spine. With a strained groan, he frees his painfully hard erection from the confines of his briefs. "But fuck, baby, this is gonna kill me."

God, the way he says baby. Straight to the fucking core.

You tap his bum with your foot and a pretty smile, sitting up on the bed when he lifts his frame to let you slide out. His angry red cock is flush against his stomach, only the top few inches visible from the briefs that rose back up to cover him.

He lets you usher him to sit at the edge of your bed, his feet digging into your fluffy rug as he tries to ground himself while you settle. Your shirt is still being held up on its own because your tits won't let it fucking fall and Jungkook shakes his head in awe at the sight. Fucking unbelievable.

The moment you kneel on the ground, the tops of your feet flat against the carpet as you lean up slightly, your eyes fixate on his throbbing cock like it's a priceless painting. Jungkook loses his mind.

Your eyes slowly lift to his when you hear his heaved, choky breathing. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you fight the urge to smile. "You're so pretty, Gukkie."

"You're prettier, baby," he replies without missing a beat, one hand supporting his weight on the bed while the other gently caresses your face.

A radiant smile spreads across your lips as you turn your face to place a fleeting kiss on his palm. His lips tug upwards at the action before the air is suddenly ripped from his lungs.

Leaning forward, you pull his briefs fully down, unsheathing his entire shaft. You tug the boxers and sweatpants so they rest under his balls, cooing at the way the elastic slightly pushes up his length, making it even angrier as a dribble of liquid gathers at the tip. You lift his shirt absentmindedly to get it out of the way, and he understands, lifting a hand to the back of the neckline and pulling it off his torso.

You barely have a chance to appreciate his tight abs, tiny waist, sinful ink that coats his skin, or the sparkling Cartier chain that dangles from his neck, a mirror of your own.

Your head tilts as you admire the prettiest dick you've ever had in front of you, each vein and ridge perfectly imperfect, complementing each other in a way that would look strange if a single one were to go missing. "Needa..." you hum, entranced, "get it wet first."

"Fuckkkkk," Jungkook moans as you lean down and lick a fat strip from the base of his balls all the way up his shaft, sucking the tip into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed on their own, the feeling of his heavy cock weighing your tongue down, making you drowsy and floaty. The scent of your body wash wafts from his skin, igniting a possessive fire in your gut you didn't even know you had as you suckle at the head. The moment he twitches against your tongue, any thought of titty-fucking flies right out your penthouse window. You're not letting him out of your mouth.

"Ohhh-hhh," he stammers as your tongue focuses on the ridge of his tip, lapping at his frenulum like it's your favorite blueberry flavored lollipop.

His hand, which had dropped back to the bed when you took him in your mouth, lifts to run through your hair, brushing it out of your face when it threatens to get in the way of your masterwork. Your eyes blink open in thanks, looking up at him dazedly, and when you catch his own, he throws his head back with a groan.

"Fuck!" He curses as you hum around his shaft, letting your lips part slightly so saliva can drip from your mouth and trail down his cock. His head snaps up to watch as you keep pushing more spit until you deem there enough before your right-hand lifts to clasp around the member.

Jungkook's eyes roll back, the grunts falling from his lips not even registering in his brain as they spew. "Fuck, baby," he huffs out. You wiggle your fingers until you have a good hold on his cock before giving it a few lazy squeezes to get the blood pumping.

"Fucking fuck!" He's absolutely done for, his entire vocabulary vanishing from his mind as you play with his dick like a joystick. Your tongue gives a final flick to lap up the precum spilling from his glan before you inhale deeply through your nose and start to feed the shaft down your throat.

The walls of your throat contract slightly as his thick girth tests your boundaries, but you push through the resistance and force it further until your lips reach your hand gripping the base of his cock.

"Oh my fucking god," Jungkook almost falls backward, but the hand that's not holding your hair out of the way steadies his balance, shaking as it works to keep him upright.

His hips jerk unconsciously when you move your hand from the base, resting it gently against his balls as you inhale through your nose again and finish him off. "Baby! B-fuck!" Jungkook would like to say that it was a manly groan, but it was a pure and outright whine.

His vocality goes straight to your cunt, your clit aching and throbbing against your underwear, screaming at you to let it breathe. You resist the urge to trail a hand down and relieve the pain, instead using it to cup Jungkook's full ballsack and roll it between your fingers. His whines get louder at that, and you almost smile around his cock.

You wait until you feel the familiar sensation of the cockhead tickling the back of your throat, the automatic gag rising through your entire body, making you swallow harshly against his shaft.

When you swallow, you rid the excess saliva that was in your mouth, so you lift off for a second to gather more. As you do, you look up to your best friend and see him staring down at you like you hung the stars, and the smile finally breaks its way to your lips.

You lean up to give him a kiss, and he meets you halfway, his hand falling from your hair to cup your face as he melts into your mouth. It's short, sweet, and soft, yet it makes your entire body flush with goosebumps.

"I love you so much," Jungkook breathes when you pull away, and you coo at the softy, pressing a gentle kiss against his pretty nose.

"I love you more, my Gukkie," you reply sweetly before returning to the task at hand.

"Not possi—" his words are cut off when you let a stream of saliva drip from your mouth before taking him down in one swift motion.

"Oh," he moans, both hands gathering your hair into a loose ponytail, following the rise and fall of your head as you deepthroat his cock. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, fucking shittt."

You quicken your pace, your right hand like a magnet below your lips, gliding up and down his length as you squeeze it intermittently, picking up on the subtle jerks of his hips. The spit coating his cock squelches with every stroke, the filthy noise echoing in your bedroom, making your hips shift against the heels of your feet. You're so turned on. Why is his dick so fucking pretty?

Your mouth is lethal, dragging all the way until the only thing left in your cave is the tip before gulping all the way back to the base. "Yesss, baby," he chokes, "taking it so well, my baby. So fucking well."

His praise loosens the final screw in your hazy brain, your hand on the base moving to grip his thigh as you gurgle as deep as you can, the tip brushing against your uvula. You gag, hard and loud, spit spilling from your lips as your teary eyes squeeze shut. Your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out the loudest moan of the night, his hips jerking forward roughly, forcing another gag from your throat.

"Mmmmmfh," you moan desperately, squeezing his thigh tightly and running your free hand back to his balls. You roll the sack in your hand, lifting your head up and down his cock with no mercy, sloppily choking on his throbbing length.

His hands tangled in your hair are shaking, his abdomen tensing as he's overwhelmed with pleasure. "God, look at you just taking it all babyy, hhffuckk,” he praises through a grunt, watching the saliva spill out from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to his balls while you fondle them. “Best fucking girl, you know that? Making me feel so fucking good. Just want me to come down your tight little throat, don’t you, my baby?"

Your eyes roll back behind your closed lids as you nod pathetically with a mouthful of his cock. You lift off with a wet pop, your eyes blinking open as you guide your hand from cupping his balls up to his shaft. You jerk him tight and sloppily before leaning down and taking his sac into your mouth. It's big, barely fitting in your mouth, but you force your jaw wider, using your tongue to usher his balls inside.

"Ahhhhffuck," Jungkook whines, his head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Your tongue laps around his balls ruthlessly as you quicken your tugs on his shaft. When you moan greedily, wiggling your head as the sac pulses and rolls against your tongue, Jungkook feels the familiar sensation flooding his body. It's faster and harder than ever before. He tries to gesture you off him, afraid if he speaks he will lose control, but you don't relent.

"Baby, y-you gotta hop off," he heaves, his ass cheeks clenching together to try and hold off the urge to cum.

"Mm-mm." You hum a no through a mouthful of ballsack, eyes fluttering open to look up at the gorgeous man trying to take away your meal. Your hand, running amok on his cock twists and squeezes, never halting as you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes.

"Ah," he whines with a shake of his head, his hips thrusting into the air, your mouth jolting with the movement as it's attached to his balls. You hum happily, tongue flicking against them. You can't wait to see his cum dripping down his abs—

Your mouth is ripped from his balls, hand unwillingly releasing his cock as he throws you back onto your bed with purpose. "Hey—"

Jungkook swallows your whine with his mouth, cutting off your thoughts at the source when his tongue delves through your lips, lapping at the taste of him lingering on your tongue. He successfully makes you forget what unimportant thing you were going to say as he devours you, your mouths moving together, sloppy and wet.

He pulls your tongue into his mouth and suckles on the muscle while his hand runs gently over your still-exposed nipple before trailing down to your shorts. Jungkook groans around your tongue when he brushes lightly over your heat, feeling the fabric coating your pussy-lips wet to the touch.

With a final suck on your tongue, he lets it slide back into your mouth before parting from your lips. He looks down at the area he's tracing light strokes on, and his cock twitches at the sight.

"Oh, baby..." He coos, his thumb running over the wet patch in awe before looking to you. Your lip is drawn between your teeth as you nibble lightly on the flesh, eyes clouded as you stare at him with a mellow haze. "So wet, pretty... Gukkie didn't give her any attention, and she's all achy now, hmm?"

"Mmhm," you nod softly, the pout on your face still visible even with your lip tugged between your teeth. Jungkook pulls his gaze from his thumb and looks at you, all soft and sweet, just for him.

"Need the ache to go away, don't you, pretty?" He mumbles against your mouth, not applying pressure but just letting your lips rest against each other.

"Yes, please, Gukkie." You respond, voice soft as you stare at his lips patiently, waiting for him to give them to you.

"Good manners, baby," he praises delicately before leaning forward and giving you a slow, gentle kiss. You melt into him, the sound of his pleased sigh making your muscles all mushy.

Jungkook pulls back and then presses three quick, rapid kisses against your lips, making you giggle. That seemed to be his goal when the side of his mouth curved upwards at your laugh as he lifted himself off your frame.

He kicks off his sweatpants the rest of the way, and they fall to the floor next to your bed, but he tucks his still painfully hard cock back into his black briefs to hold it for the time being.

Jungkook looks down at his effortlessly beautiful best friend, lying prettily on her bed, hair sprawled out against the pillow while she waits for him to take her any way he desires. Teenage him would be freaking the fuck out if he could see him right now.

His gaze drags slowly up your body, a lingering moment spent on the meat of your thighs, and he swallows before finally locking onto the space between.

You try to will yourself to be patient despite the aching throb coming from your heat, but your leg betrays you and twitches slightly. Jungkook catches the movement instantly.

"Gonna flip you on your tummy, okay baby?" he says distractedly, eyes never straying from the wet patch on your shorts.

"Oka—"

You don't get to finish your sentence before his hands are on your hips and he flips you as gently as a horny lacrosse captain can. A surprised squeak slips out when your face hits the mattress, and you both giggle, Jungkook leaning down to kiss your shoulder with a soft, sorry pretty.

Jungkook has always been a tits guy. Tried and true. It may have stemmed from growing up with a best friend that he was hopelessly in love with who happened to develop the greatest rack he'd ever seen in his life... But right now, as Jungkook stares at your soft, round asscheeks stuffed into those little cotton sleep shorts, he's beginning to rethink his entire life choices.

He kneels at the edge of the bed, using your ankle to gently pull you further toward him. You slide down the bed without any complaints, trying not to arch your back so you can be even closer to him.

Jungkook continues his ministrations on your curves before trailing up to the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them done, your panties coming with them, and he groans at the way the flesh ripples when released from the fabric. He grabs a greedy handful of each cheek with his big hands and gives them a rough squeeze, relishing in the way you push back into his grip.

"So pretty, my baby," he hums, continuing to knead the flesh as he dips to pepper kisses all over the flushed skin.

You whine, your hips grinding into the bed in an attempt to put some pressure on your ignored clit. He notices your movements and presses one last kiss to your right asscheek before sitting back and pulling your bottoms off fully. They fall into a pile next to his discarded sweatpants, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the freedom from the confines.

When one of Jungkook's hands slips between your belly and the mattress, you can't stop the noise of satisfaction that leaves you when he gently ushers you to your hands and knees. You quickly tug your top the rest of the way off, slinking it over your head and handing it back blindly to Jungkook. He takes it from you instantly, chucking it at the growing pile of clothes next to him.

On instinct, you fall to your forearms, nipples rubbing against your duvet as you arch your back, biting your lip when even the warm air of your bedroom feels cool against your burning cunt.

"Fucking hell..." Jungkook chokes out, the sight of your soaked pussy spread and bearing for him, making his mouth water.

"Ah-fuck!" A high-pitched squeal rips from your throat when he leans down and delivers a long, broad lick up your slit.

He lets out a loud moan into your pussy when you jerk back into him at the feeling. You're so fucking wet from being so worked up, and his cock throbs against his briefs at the taste of your juices leaking onto his tongue. Jungkook's hands slide to the front of your thighs to steady you as he loses himself, his tongue wrapping your clit, sucking the hardening nub messily into his mouth. "Mmmmfh," he sighs contently like he was taking a sip of a well-made café latte instead of feasting on your cunt like a madman.

When he releases your clit, dragging the flat of his tongue from the button all the way to your opening, your knees buckle. "Yes, Gukkie, fuckk yes!" You cry, writhing against his sinful tongue.

Jungkook almost purrs in delight, lapping up the slick between your folds, trying to get every last drop. His tongue finds its way to the entrance of your core, teasingly dipping in and out once, twice, before he loses control and thrusts it as far as it can go. "Uhhh-shhhittt," your head falls forward with a shuddery gasp, your walls clenching around his tongue, pulling a low groan from him.

Jungkook's hands slide up from your thighs to rest on your asscheeks, and before you can process the realization that he hasn't used his fingers on you yet, he's gripping the flesh and pulling you harshly into his face. "Uh!" You moan, your ass flush against his face as he buries himself, nose and tongue, right into your cunt.

"Hhhhhhhhhh," you're not even saying words anymore, just useless, incoherent noises spluttering from your lips as you quiver, grinding your pussy back into his face.

He tries not to focus on your other hole, the tight little puckered fucking one that's basically blinking at him. Taunting him. He closes his eyes as he focuses on losing himself in your pussy. Another day, he thinks.

Jungkook's mouth is covered in your juice, his head shaking from side to side as he drags his tongue furiously around your cunt. The filthy sound of your sopping pussy getting devoured by his tongue resounds around your bedroom, Jungkook's hips rutting into the edge of your bed needily.

"Yes, Gukkie, yes!!! So good babyyyy--ohhh fuckkkk!" You scream, your nails digging into the mattress as you grind your pussy back into his face.

Jungkook's eyes roll back, his moans getting swallowed by your slick folds. Fuck oxygen, he hopes he passes out.

He takes one of the hands resting on your ass and brings a finger to your leaky entrance. He pulls away for a millisecond to suck in a breath before dropping down instantly and enveloping your clit with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth. And with that, he finally pushes his middle finger into your hole.

You try to moan, but with the pressure on your clit and the sensation of finally being filled, the only sound that escapes is a strangled gasp. He lets your clit slip out of his mouth before his tongue quickly darts out to flick against it vigorously, his finger delving deeper into your hole with every jab of his tongue.

Your body shudders as he expertly works his tongue and finger in tandem, each movement driving you closer to the edge. "G-Gukkie, I'm so fucking close," you whimper, your thighs trembling around his head.

Jungkook's free hand tightens on your ass, pulling you even closer as he tries to add a second finger, his eyebrows furrowing at the resistance. "Relax baby, gotta let Gukkie in." He gives a particularly hard tongue of your clit, a pleased hum declared into your pussy when he feels your walls loosen to let his other slip in.

His tongue flicks faster, more determined, as he feels your walls flutter around his digits. He pulls back a hair to mumble against your clit, "You can let go now, my baby. I've got you."

With a harsh flick of his tongue and a curl of his fingers, you tense up. "Oh my fuck, Gukkie, yes!" You cry out, your body convulsing as he pounds against your g-spot with his thick fingers. Your eyes roll back, a final scream ripping from your throat as you shatter, your orgasm ripping you apart from the inside out.

Jungkook doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers relentless as they pull every last drop of pleasure from your shaky core. The hand of his that is still gripping your ass slips up to gently rub against your back when you collapse into the mattress.

Tears well in your eyes as Jungkook delivers a final drag of his tongue from your bud to your hole, swallowing every last drop of juice leaking from your cunt. He withdraws his fingers carefully, replacing them with soft, soothing strokes along your inner thighs.

It takes you a solid minute to come down from your high, your limbs still tingling from the hardest orgasm you've had in, well, ever. Jungkook continues his soft strokes against your thighs while you catch your breath, his head spinning and mouth still coated in your remnants.

"I get it now." Your voice is muffled by the comforter you face planted into, and you currently don't have the strength to get up.

"Hm?" Jungkook hums amusedly, his hand still tracing gently over your skin.

"Why girls always want your dick so bad. I get it now. If your tongue is that good, fucking hell..."

Jungkook snorts, leaning down to press a kiss on your lower back before flopping down to lay next to you. You finally lift your head from the blanket to look at your best friend, who's already smiling down at you, his tattooed arm tucked behind his head while he rests against the headboard.

His brow raises when you giggle suddenly and sit up. He doesn't have time to admire your bare tits almost in his face when your hand lifts up to his mouth. You're still giggling as you wipe at the shiny substance that coats his lips. A shocked gasp leaves Jungkook's lips, and he grabs your hand in a flash, his eyes holding clouds of pure betrayal.

"Why would you do that?" He's genuinely upset!

It's your turn to snort this time, lifting a leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "I'm sorry, Gukkie." You entertain him with an amused eye roll, leaning in to plant a sweet kiss against his lips.

Jungkook dissolves into the kiss, about to deepen it when you pull away. His eyes snap open, ready to protest, when suddenly your tongue flicks out, dragging flat across his lips to gather your slick that coats his mouth.

"Mm," you hum, making sure to get every bit around the corner of his lips and even the speck of gloss you see on the tip of his nose.

Jungkook is frozen. His cock thrashes against his briefs as he stares at you in complete awe, your tongue sliding back into your mouth to swallow the juices—your juices—that you just lapped up from his fucking lips.

Your lip darts between your teeth as you try not to laugh at his darkened expression. Looking down at the source of the throbbing against your bare pussy, you let out a teasing coo. "That looks really sore, Gukkie..."

Jungkook swallows. He needs to calm down or he's going to pin you into the mattress and fuck you open, raw.

"It is." He manages to choke out.

You pout, lifting your gaze back to him. "Don't want you to be sore."

"You don't?" He returns softly, dragging his hand over your bare thigh.

You shake your head so cutely that he almost shivers. You lean closer, gaze flickering from his pretty nose and then back to his eyes. "I could make the pain go away if you want..."

"Yeah? You wanna make Gukkie feel better, pretty?"

You nod, the hazy feeling taking over again as he runs his hands gently up your hips, resting gently on the swell of your ass.

You lift off him slightly, his hands moving with you as they're glued to your bum. Jungkook bites his lip at the wet patch you left on his boxers, and he thanks God he did because it muffles the pitchy groan that escapes him when your hand slithers beneath his waistband.

His eyes flutter shut when you give his painfully red cock a few gentle strokes, his head dropping back to hit the headboard.

"Baby," you giggle, "you're so fucking hard."

He lifts his head to give you a deadpanned fucking obviously look, and you just snicker, leaning forward to kiss his pouty lips.

"Oh no. Fuck."

He jerks forward slightly at your serious tone, his hands moving from your butt to cup the one of yours that froze around his dick worriedly. "Huh? What's wrong?"

Your eyes soften as you don't respond verbally, a devastated look clouding your gaze. He sits up seriously now. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I don't have any condoms." Your brows are pulled together so tightly, which Jungkook still doesn't like, but he releases a breath at your words.

"Fuck, Y/N. Don't do that. You scared me, I thought you were hurt or something." His head falls back to rest against your headboard in relief instead of pleasure this time.

You frown. "Why aren't you upset? Oh, did you bring some?" Jungkook almost laughs at the thought, lifting his head to watch as you release his dick to glance behind you at his overnight bag.

"What-no, baby. Of course I didn't bring condoms. This is probably the last thing I ever expected to happen."

Your pout is in full swing now, turning back to Jungkook with a very unhappy look. He just shakes his head at your pretty face, planting his hands on the mattress beside him and pushing up to press your lips to his.

When you pull away, Jungkook is about to ask if you want to grind on him over his briefs because he would be finished in approximately thirty seconds—

"I'm on the pill." You say softly.

He swallows. "I know."

"Do you-are you clean?"

"Yeah," he chokes out, "haven't ever not used a condom. And tested after that scare the other week with...uh..."

"Did you really forget her name?" You squint, shaking your head incredulously at his genuine look of confusion.

"I-uh, yeah I don't know... All I remember is that it kinda burned when I peed—"

You roll your eyes. "Her name," you press a quick kiss to his lips, "was Yejin."

"Ohh, yeah—"

"You also did that stupid 10-packet spicy ramen challenge that day." Another quick kiss to his lips.

"Hey, that was for a fundraiser—"

"And I'm clean... Tested with Mingyu."

"Oh." Jungkook's heartbeat picks up. Not at the Mingyu part, okay maybe a little, but mostly at the fact that you're hinting at him taking you fucking raw right now.

Your lips purse, his response suddenly making you feel stupid for asking. Jungkook picks up on the look instantly, his hands cradling your face when you try to look away.

"Baby," you're about to apologize when he continues, "it's your choice. I'd fuck you wrapped in a garbage bag if you asked me to."

Your lips wiggle as you try not to smile, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes. "You're really cute, Gukkie."

"Oh?" He hums, "I thought I was a pussy eating God... but cute works too I guess."

You snicker, falling into his lips and he swallows your soft giggles with his tongue. "So humble," you whisper against his lips when you break away.

Jungkook's about to tease further, but you don't give him the chance, your hand slipping back down to wrap around his shaft. A soft shudder leaves him, his hands falling from your face to grip your ass again, squeezing it firmly.

You're still a bit sensitive, but nothing you can't handle, and you shift forward a little so the lips of your pussy press against his length.

"Oh-fuck." He moans at the feeling of a bare pussy on his cock. And it's your pussy. Holy fuck.

You place both your hands on his thick thighs, leaning back to get the right angle before you slide your hips up and down, dragging his length through your wet slit. Jungkook's hands sprawl over your back when you lean back, cradling you almost, and he keens at the sloppy, squishy sounds that fill the room.

Your clit is alive again, thumping against his cock every time it drags through your lips, and you heave out a strained moan at the fresh wave of arousal that washes over you.

Your hand pushes against Jungkook's chest gently as you sit up, determined. He lets himself fall back against the headboard, face flushed, neck vein visible, while he watches intently. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of his thighs as you lean forward, your hand reaching behind you blindly to grip his shaft before you line it up with your entrance.

Your brows furrow, and you bite your bottom lip hard as you try to press the bulbous head in. Your opening does its best to stretch around the intruder and you let out a relieved whine when it finally gets sucked in.

"Fuck." Jungkook whimpers, his head slamming back hard against the headboard. Your walls burn as you struggle to accommodate his huge length, and he can fucking feel it.

You let the tingles flooding up your spine settle for a second. Then, you take a big breath, and drop.

"Mother fuckkkkk." Jungkook groans, his hands squeezing your ass tightly in shock as you take his entire length in one go.

Your eyes are closed, head thrown back in pleasure as you bask in the feeling for a moment. Every inch of you is filled with his thick girth. You've never felt so full and so fucking good.

You're so wet. So warm. So tight. Jungkook is grateful for the pause in your movements because he thinks he actually would've fucking come if you—

Your hips lift up until all that's remaining in you is his fat cockhead before you sink back down and take it all in one swoop.

Lewd noises spew from his lips as he forces his eyes to stay open, watching you swallow his cock over and over and over.

"So fucking good at that, baby, shit..." Jungkook grunts.

Your nails dig into his thighs at the praise, your head lifting back up to look at him as you increase your pace.

You begin to move faster, riding him with an increasing intensity that makes the bed creak beneath you. The friction and fullness send waves of pleasure through your body, making you gasp and moan. Your hands find his shoulders, using them as leverage as you bounce on his length harder.

"Godssooo fucking good," you pant, your voice a breathless slur. "So deep, Gukkie. C-can feel it in my tummy."

Jungkook's hands slide up your back with a growl, pulling you closer until your chests are pressed together. He captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues tangling as the rhythm of your hips grows more frantic. The slick sounds of your bodies slamming together fills the room, enveloping you both in desire.

Breaking the kiss, Jungkook's lips trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. "Taking it so good, my baby," he worships against your collarbone. "So fucking perfect."

The praise spurs you on, your movements becoming pathetically desperate as you chase your release. You can feel the burning tension coiling in your core, ready to snap, when suddenly his feet move to plant themselves into your mattress and he begins to thrust up into you.

"Oh fuck yes, fuck!" You gasp, your knees trembling as he plows relentlessly into you from below.

"Shittttt," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you up and down on his cock, balls slapping against your ass as he pistons furiously into your pussy. "So good at riding cock, baby, taking it all like a proper fucking slut."

You cry loudly at his words, your nails digging into his shoulder slightly as you writhe against his thrusts. "It's the pilates," you choke out, "developed good core strength. Great for riding dick."

Jungkook lets out a loud laugh, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck while his thrusts get even deeper. He feels your walls tighten around him sorely, and he heaves a shaky breath before slipping a tattoed hand between you two, thumb attaching to your clit. Your fucked-out uh-uh-uh’s echoes in his ears with every plunge of his cock, fueling him to go harder.

The sloppy bud twitches under his touch, his thumb slipping from how soaked you are, but he doesn't back down. He chases the hard nub and flicks it in time with his thrusts, cock jittering as you let out your loudest moan of the night.

"I'm gonna come, Gukkie. I-I'm gonna fucking come! Oh my goddddd!" you're bouncing on him wildly, your walls clenching furiously with no pattern, completely run with pleasure that you can't control it.

"Come on, baby," he whines through a thrust, his balls squeezing as you get impossibly tighter, begging to let them release their fluids, "Ohh-h-ffuck, can I come too, baby? Can I come in you? Oh fuck, fuck."

You don't even get to answer as you completely shatter, your orgasm taking control over your whole body that you swear you see the light. You cry out his name as best you can, your body convulsing, shaking around his length.

You can't possibly speak as you collapse against his chest but as you fall, you see the pained look in his eyes as he tries not to come. You want it so bad. More than you've ever wanted anything in your life. Before you know what you're doing, your thighs tighten around his legs, your mouth moves to the nape of his neck, and you bite. Hard.

Jungkook spasms, the deepest growl of a moan rips through his throat as he throws his head back and cums, deep and hot, right into your cunt. You whimper around the chunk of flesh captured between your teeth, his thick load tickling your walls as it fills your hole.

You feel complete.

Jungkook's hands gently stroke your back, grounding you as you come down from your high. Nothing but the sound of both your heavy breathing fills your ears before Jungkook breaks the silence. "You did so well, baby."

Your tongue laps and licks softly at the skin of his neck to soothe the subtle teeth marks you left, and he lets out a pleased noise through a shiver. Your head lifts to look into his eyes, a hazy smile spreading across your face when you take in his blissed-out features. "I didn't know sex could feel like that."

Jungkook's eyes flutter open at your words, his stomach clenching in pure joy that his softening cock still tucked up inside of you even lets out a shudder. "Yeah?" He asks softly, a hand lifting to tuck some of your messy hair behind your ear.

"Yeah," you nod with a flutter of your eyes at his gentle touches, "the fact it was you was probably the main factor," you mumble dreamily against his neck when you rest your head on his shoulder, "but that was still the best dick I've ever had."

His heart swells infinitely. You were by far the best pussy he's ever had, but he didn’t think you would share such a thought. He should've known by now that if you are many things, predictable is not one of them.

You wrap your legs around his waist, nuzzling into his neck happily as his cock stays plugged inside of you, keeping his load intact and secure.

Jungkook's arms slink under your arms gently so he can pull you even closer, wrapping you around his chest (and his length) like a koala.

"This has been the greatest night of my entire life, Y/N." He whispers honestly against your cheek before pressing a soft kiss into the skin. "Thank you."

You hum contently, tilting your head up slightly to look at him with a pretty smile. "I love you, Gukkie."

"I love you, pretty." He replies, peppering your lips with another three quick kisses, smiling in satisfaction when another you give him another giggle.

You let the comfortable silence wrap you for a moment before breaking it. "Do we have any pasta left from dinner?"

The mention of dinner makes him think for a moment. He cooked pasta for the two of you, which you ate not long before coming into your room. You ate before sex. And you don’t look like you feel sick.

He gazes down at you, his smile broadening, heart fluttering. "'Course, I made heaps. Are you hungry?"

"Mhm."

"C'mon then," he says, giving your bum a gentle pat, ready to lift you off him and clean you up before feeding you.

"'nna minute..." You mumble sleepily against his neck, and he stops his movements, hands settling back to rub soothing strokes on your bum.

"You want me to carry you, don’t you?" he teases, suppressing a smirk as he feels you clench around him absentmindedly at him reading your thoughts.

"Noo...." your voice trails off, not even trying to conceal your lie. Jungkook chuckles softly, feeling your smile against his skin.

He makes sure he has a tight grip on you, and you him, before he carefully lifts both of you from the bed. He leads you into your ensuite, his long arm reaching out to snatch some toilet paper and a clean hand towel from your shelf as he gently places you on the sink counter.

Jungkook captures the liquid that seeps from your core with the paper as he slowly withdraws. He gives you a chuckly sorry when you wince a little, the thick head of his cock tugging at your walls as he retreats. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips to distract you and slips out with a final tug.

After discarding the used toilet paper, he dampens the towel with warm water and tenderly runs it over your core gently, pulling a pleased sigh from your lips.

Watching your best friend in awe through half-lidded eyes, he makes sure to thoroughly clean up the mess on and in your pussy before he half-heartedly uses the towel to wipe at his wet length.

He chucks the rag into the laundry hamper on the other side of the large bathroom. It lands directly in the basket from his athletic skills, and he turns to you with a cocky smirk.

You shake your head in amusement, "you're a loser."

"Don't talk to me like that, gonna get me hard again."

Your eyes widen in mock shock, before you giggle into his chest. "Knew you'd be into shit like degradation... Just had this feeling."

"Only with you though." It's cliché, but he means it.

You lift your head from his chest. "Only for me, huh?"

Jungkook nods, still standing between your legs as you look up at him from your bathroom counter. His gaze turns a little more serious. "Only yours."

Your head tilts as you blink up at the most gorgeous boy you've ever seen in your life. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jungkook responds instantly and certainly. His thumbs tremble nervously against your thighs while he waits for your response, and they pull to a halt when you lean up to rest your mouth against his.

"Good," you murmur softly against his pouty lips, "because I'm all fucking yours."

END.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

thank you so much for reading. let me know what you think? love you <3

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despairforme · 1 year ago

Note

Nnoitra have you ever considered cutting your hair short? Or is it something that just hasn’t occurred to you?

❝ Oh yeah, I think 'bout that A LOT. Ya'll know how fuckin' annoyin' it is 'ta have hair this long? It's a fuckin' pain. ❞ Indeed, he often thought about just chopping it all the fuck off. Shaving his head. He'd probably look even worse than he already did but - at least then he'd be rid of all this annoying hair. Whenever it was windy, it would whip him in his one good eyeball. It clogged the drain in the shower. It got in his mouth when he slept. It was in the way at work, so he had to put it up in a bun. In summer, it was hot as hell when it stuck to the back of his neck. Those were just SOME of the annoying aspects of having long hair.

Still - he chose it. There were a few reasons for that. The number one was probably that his hair had been long for so many years. It was sort of a comfort thing, like with his bracelets. He figured he'd feel strange as hell if he suddenly chopped all his hair off. Another reason was that one of the best feelings he knew, was washing his hair. Hair-play in general was his favorite thing, and even though he didn't have a partner anymore who could perform that for him - he could get some of the same feeling when he showered. Another reason? He liked the fact that his hair made his neck look less skinny. Nnoitra had a thin neck ( fitting to the rest of his skinny body ), and that made him look vulnerable. He didn't like that. His thick hair hid that ( it was also the reason for his hairstyle ). He also liked how his bangs fell over his eyepatch, covering it a little to make it look less obvious... Even though it was so big that everyone could see it. He didn't know whether or not his hair made him look less ugly. That was not really a concern of his. His looks had never been a priority. He HAD been told that he had very nice hair, so that was something. And yet another reason for not cutting it? He didn't want to go to a hair-dresser. He could probably cut it himself, but then he'd look like an idiot for sure, since he had no idea how to cut hair. Having some random ass stranger cut his hair? Having scissors that close to his throat? No fucking thanks. So he'd just keep it long. Whatever.

#[ eyyy thank you for the ask anon !! ]#[ i honestly love nnoitra with shorter hair it looks sO good on him ]#[ but i'm not about to edit 1000 icons LOL ]#[ so he's keeping that long hair ]#[ he does have shorter hair in a few of his aus ]#[ like his greaser!au ]#[ he's super handsome with all kinds of hairstyles... ]#[ BUT YEAH thank you for the ask! it was fun to answer 8) ]#despair for me. ╱ in character.#talking shit. ╱ answers.#burn the city. ╱ main verse.

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smileysuh · 9 months ago

Text

nerd

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Look up at me for a moment, gorgeous,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told. He meets your gaze, his skin flushed from your mouth suctioning on his cock. “Just need to get your eyes right for your character,” he explains, threading his fingers through your hair and aiding you up and down on his throbbing length. “Such pretty eyes. You look so good staring up at me with your mouth stuffed full, baby.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, use of dragon knotted dildo toy, use of vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, blow job, dirty talk, slight power play/humiliation, clit sucking, overstimulation, pussy stretching, reader rides the toy then Wonwoo uses the toy to make her cum again, talking reader through it, mutual masturbation, Wonwoo strokes himself off to the reader using her toys, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby. (Wonwoo’s) puppy

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k

🍭 aus. Established relationship au, gamer!Wonwoo, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know this is on the shorter side, it’s pwp, but I’ve been reading shorter things lately, and I’ve been insanely busy, so I figured a short and sweet fic couldn’t hurt after last month's near 20k meanie fic :)

You wake up to an empty bed, your hand stretching uselessly toward your boyfriend’s side of the mattress, to no avail. With a slight groan and a huff of sleepy annoyance, you wrap yourself tighter in your white duvet, searching for the energy to sit up.

A clicking sound has your brows furrowing, and you wrap your body tight in the blanket as you open your eyes to look around.

Wonwoo’s sitting at his gaming station in the corner of the room, large earphones snug around his head. For a guy who’s a bit of a night owl, you’re shocked he’s awake and playing video games right now, but as you stare at the screen, you realize what’s going on.

With the new Fallout TV show, Wonwoo’s been wanting to do another playthrough of Fallout 4. He’s been talking about it on Twitch streams for the better part of a week. Leave it to your boyfriend to get the energy to restart a video game at nine am on a Saturday morning.

As much as you love Wonwoo and what he does for work - being a streamer is his dream afterall - you kind of wish he was still in bed with you. He’d been up late gaming last night, and was too tired afterward to take care of your growing needs. You’re at the part of your cycle where you’ve been very horny lately, and you’d been crossing your fingers for morning sex, but by the way Wonwoo is locked in on his screen, you can guess that might not be in the cards.

You watch him a few moments longer, realizing that he’s not actively streaming. It looks like he’s just doing general character creation, but with a boyfriend as meticulous as Wonwoo, you know that could take a while.

Quietly slipping from bed, you wrap yourself in a kimono style robe that Wonwoo had got for you on a recent trip to Japan. You head to the bathroom, intent on completing your morning skin care routine, taking your time and brushing your teeth.

When you head back to your shared room with Wonwoo fifteen minutes later, your boyfriend looks like he hasn’t even moved a muscle aside from his twitching thumbs on the controller.

Approaching Wonwoo, you lean over the back of his chair, loosely guiding your fingers across his shoulders and down to his bare chest.

Wonwoo immediately takes his headphones off, turning to press a kiss to your cheek while you linger behind him.

“Good morning,” you breathe.

“Morning, baby,” he says, voice deep and crackly with exhaustion.

“Watcha doing?”

“Just making my Fallout character,” he responds smoothly, turning to look back at the screen. “I’m glad you’re awake actually.”

“Yeah?” you grin. “And why is that?”

“I’m almost done, and when I move onto my wife character, I want to model her after you. As good as my memory is, it’s probably better to have you here with me when I do it.”

God, he’s such a nerd.

You love him, your whole heart warming in your chest at the notion of him creating a wife character based off of you.

“Are you sure you want to put the time into that?” you ask. “We both know what happens to the wife within the first fifteen minutes of the game.”

Wonwoo only shrugs. “I woke up to your pretty face and I guess I was inspired.”

“Hey, puppy?” The pet name immediately draws his attention, and he turns to look at you, a smirk growing on his lips.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you take a break for a bit?”

Wonwoo’s eyes scan you up and down, and then he sets his controller to the side, reaching for you instead. You allow him to lace his fingers with yours, drawing you in front of him. He positions you between his spread thighs, using his free digits to tug on the belt of your kimono robe. You don’t even need to verbalize what you need, Wonwoo knows you too well, and within seconds, your robe is opening to expose your naked body.

“I guess I didn’t really have the energy to take care of you last night,” Wonwoo admits, leaning forward to press his lips to the spot above your navel.

You let go of his hand in favour of threading your fingers through his curls, his hair teasing your sensitive skin as he presses kisses up toward your rib cage. He cups the back of your thighs, tugging you closer.

Wonwoo reaches your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick at the underside of your boob, eyes gazing up at you.

“How about a compromise?” he suggests, breath hot on your sensitive skin.

“A compromise?” Your words come out shaky as he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently.

He hums against the sensitive bud, one hand lifting to massage your ass. Then, he pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with a grin. “I just wanna finish your character first.”

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head at Wonwoo. You step away from him, but he grabs at your hand. “Kiss,” he instructs, and you begrudgingly lean down to press a chaste peck to his lips. His fingers thread through your hair, cupping the back of your skull to keep your mouth on his for a few moments longer, then he releases you.

“Should only take five or ten minutes,” he tells you. “And I need you here to model.”

“One second,” you groan, heading to your closet.

If he doesn’t want to fuck you right away, if he wants to prioritize his video game, that’s just fine. You can start without him.

You find a good sized toy, one of the dragon style ones that Wonwoo had been obsessed with a few months ago. He loves watching the coulourful, ribbed cock with a wide ‘knot’ base work you open for him, and fuck it, today feels like a good day for you to enjoy it too.

You also grab a trusty black vibrator and a bottle of lube for good measure before going back to your boyfriend.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything as you sink to the ground, he simply pushes his chair back, giving you some space to settle under the table his computer is on. You can feel his gaze on you when you open the bottle of lube, squirting some onto the toy before suctioning it to the floor.

“Five or ten minutes, right?” you ask, easing over the head of the toy and facing your boyfriend.

“Uh huh,” he mumbles, looking down to watch the way you sink the head of the toy into your pussy. “Think you can get all the way down to the knot with that time frame?”

“Probably,” you groan, closing your eyes to enjoy the way the tip feels inside of you. “But… puppy, you haven’t fucked me in so long, I’m pretty tight.”

“You’ll work yourself open,” Wonwoo assures you, his attention turning back to his screen, although you can see his cock beginning to strain against the grey fabric of his sweatpants.

The tip of the toy is tapered compared to the base, with all sorts of ridges that stimulate your inner walls as you test yourself up and down. The lube makes it easy to slide an inch or two inside your aching core, and as much as you’d like to try to sink down fully, you want to go slowly with this, seeing as you have five to ten minutes.

You grab your vibrator, turning it up to a medium setting and placing it on your clit.

Your head is bowed, thighs already quivering as the sensation of the vibrator surges through you. A moan slips past your lips, your pace quickening on the toy, another inch sinking into you with your motions.

“That’s my good baby,” Wonwoo coos, reaching down to cup your cheek.

When you look up at him, you find his gaze still fixed to his computer screen, and it makes you angry.

You bite your lower lip, bouncing faster, harder- pressing the vibrator firmly to your clit in hopes that the pleasurable sensations will distract you from your growing annoyance.

“Wonwoo-” you groan.

“Puppy,” he corrects you.

“Please-”

“Please what?” your boyfriend counters.

“Fuck me?”

Wonwoo looks down at you finally, that shit eating smirk returning to his lips. “One cock inside of you isn’t enough right now, baby?”

“No, want your cock,” you insist.

“Okay, just remember, you asked for it, and I told you five or ten minutes.” Wonwoo sighs, lifting his hips and pulling his pants down, his hard length slapping up against his lower abdomen.

You’d meant you wanted his cock in your pussy, but you suppose you hadn’t specified what you wanted him to fuck-

Sucking Wonwoo off while he creates a video game character hadn’t been on todays bingo card, but you know how your boyfriend gets when he’s gaming, and you fear this might be the only way to have a piece of him while he’s focused.

Licking your lips, you pull him closer, the wheels of his chair dragging against the ground. With the hand not on the vibrator, you grab the base of his cock, adjusting so you can wrap your mouth around the tip.

Wonwoo releases a pleased groan, and you can feel your pussy clench around the toy.

Your eyes close, your focus going to the sensations ringing through your body. You take more of the dragon cock, slowly moving up and down on it in tandem with your mouth on Wonwoo. The vibrations on your clit are still making your legs shake, and as you get lost in the feeling of blowing your lover, you think you might cum pretty quick this way.

“That’s it, baby,” Wonwoo coos. “My good girl, being so patient.”

Fuck him for praising your patience. He knows lines like that make you eager to please him in this way, eager for more whispered words of affirmation even while he’s neglecting your aching pussy, fully content with you using a toy while he prioritizes his game-

“Look up at me for a moment, gorgeous,” he commands, and you do as you’re told. He meets your gaze, his skin flushed from your mouth suctioning on his cock. “Just need to get your eyes right for your character,” he explains, threading his fingers through your hair and aiding you up and down on his throbbing length. “Such pretty eyes. You look so good staring up at me with your mouth stuffed full, baby.”

Fuck. Your toes curl at his words.

If his skin wasn’t betraying the effect you’re having on him, you’d never be able to tell by the steady baritone of his morning voice. He’s not shuddering, not breathing deeply- it makes you want to suck on him even harder. You want to earn Wonwoo’s sounds of pleasure- sounds that can be so rare from a man who uses his voice for a living.

“Hows that cock feel inside of you?” he asks, gaze shifting up to his screen again. “Getting you nice and stretched for me, huh?”

You groan around his length, sucking roughly on his sensitive tip.

Wonwoo takes a sharp breath, and your body tingles with your success of earning a strangled sound from him.

“I’m almost done,” he assures you. “But I want to watch you take the knot first, be a good girl and sink down on the toy for me.”

You pull off of his cock with a popping sound, wiping a hand across your saliva wet lips. “What does it matter to you? You can’t even see me taking this.”

“True, but I know the sounds you make when you stuff yourself full with that toy. Wanna hear your pretty sounds baby.”

How is he so good at dirty talk while still staring at his computer screen?

“Nerd,” you whisper under your breath.

“Hmm?” He looks down at you with a grin, and you know he heard what you said.

“Nothing.”

“You’re gonna get it in two minutes,” he warns.

“Lucky me,” you say sarcastically, riding the toy faster, pushing yourself closer and closer to the wide base.

Wonwoo’s left hand finds his cock, and he begins to stroke himself while you focus on your own pleasure, rubbing the vibrator back and forth along your aching clit.

A whimper escapes you when you sink all the way down to the knot of the toy, hovering over the widest section.

“That’s the sound,” Wonwoo muses. “Come on, sink down on it.”

“I’m too tight,” you tell him, moving up and down, unable to go any further onto the knotted base.

“When you take it, I’ll take you,” Wonwoo promises, stroking his cock faster.

Looking up at him, you find your boyfriend staring at you now. He’s set the controller aside, and you have his full attention.

“Can’t you just fuck me right now?” you plead, motions stopping.

“I’m just a gamer nerd, remember, baby? Isn’t it my job to watch an angel like you make herself cum on some stupid toy before I get a taste?”

Fuck.

He makes it sound like he’s the victim here, although clearly you’re the one aching for him.

“Puppy,” you groan, looking down and focusing on taking the knot. “I’m not wet enough-”

“Then cum. Use your vibe and make yourself cum, should make it easier.”

“But I want you,” you whine.

He laughs. “Brat.”

“Nerd,” you fire back.

Wonwoo’s grin only widens. “Be a good girl, make yourself cum, take the dragon knot-”

“Anything else?” you huff, rubbing the vibrator hard on your clit.

“Yeah, one more thing.” Wonwoo sits back smugly in his chair, spreading his thighs even wider. “Suck my balls.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Sucking his dick is one thing, but sucking his balls? Generally with past boyfriends, you’ve stuck to their cocks- but Wonwoo has a very specific way of challenging you to do things like this.

He knows you can’t refuse. He carries all the cards. If you want his dick inside of you, you’re going to have to do this for him. It’s not like you hate sucking balls, it’s not like you’ve ever voiced it to him that this is a boundary for you, it’s just… regularly, you’d rather… well, you’d rather not.

But you suppose this is what you get for calling him a nerd.

With a sigh, you lean forward, licking at the space just below the fingers wrapped around the base of his cock.

“Don’t be shy,” he tells you.

You decide to focus mainly on your own pleasure while you take one of his balls into your mouth. He’s doing this to degrade you, to get back at you for being impatient- but at the same time, from the contented groan that leaves his lips, you know Wonwoo’s sensitive in this area.

His sounds do make things easier for you, and you close your eyes, rubbing your clit hard with the vibrator.

“That’s it,” he coos. “I love it when you’re a good girl for me.”

You whimper at his words, your core throbbing desperately.

“Better be fast and cum though, I’m not sure I can handle much of this, you’re just so good with your mouth.”

And now he’s threatening to not even fuck you? He’ll stroke himself to the finish line if you don’t cum first?

This man will be the death of you.

“Come on, baby, I know you want to cum,” he encourages you. “Be a good girl and just do it, cum from that vibrator and the dragon cock inside your tight fucking pussy.”

His words are the last straw and you pull off his balls to let out a deep groan. You bury your face against his thigh, pussy fluttering as your orgasm slams into you. Your walls contract around what you can take of the toy, and you feel a rush of wetness coat the silicon, helping you bob up and down even faster-

“That’s it,” Wonwoo breathes, rubbing his cock even faster. “Just a little more and I’ll fuck you.”

You whimper like a whore in heat, biting gently against Wonwoo’s thigh as you push yourself to sink further onto the toy, your inner walls screaming at you due to the stretch.

“Good girl,” your boyfriend praises you, petting you with a warm hand that makes your entire body ache.

You turn the vibrator off, nearly overstimulated. Tossing it to the side you focus on the dildo, feeling your pussy stretch to accommodate part of the knot.

“Almost there,” Wonwoo says, and by the way he’s stroking his cock, you’re not sure if he’s talking about you or himself.

“Wonwoo, please,” you beg. “I can’t-”

“You’re the one who wanted to be filled today, just take a little more and I’ll fill you,” he says, his motions faltering on his length.

You grab at his thighs, squeezing and using him for leverage to rock up and down on the toy. Your eyes clench shut as you bob up and down, your wetness coating the silicon until-

You let out a gasp as you sink fully onto the toy, pausing while your thighs quiver. Another mini orgasm rushes through you at the feeling of being stretched this way, the knot stuck in your sensitive hole-

“That’s it,” Wonwoo says, moving into action immediately. He pushes away from you, standing up. Hands that are surprisingly gentle reach down and pull you to your feet, making you cry out from the way the toy is still lodged inside of you. “Fuck, you are tight,” he notes from the way the dragon cock didn’t immediately shoot out of you from the change in position.

“Puppy-” you whimper, already delirious.

Wonwoo helps you onto the bed, sinking to his knees at the foot of the mattress. He spreads your thighs, and you look down to see his pupils blow with lust while he stares at the large toy still embedded in your pussy.

He licks his lips. “Fuck, I always love it when you take this fucking knot.”

You whisper his name, moaning loudly when he grabs the base of the toy and gently thrusts it in and out of you.

Then, he shifts, and his tongue finds your clit. “One more?” he practically pleads. “Then another when I’m inside of you?”

It’s been days since he’s made you cum, and it feels like today, he’s going to make up for that. You can bet that by tonight, you’ll have lost track of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and you honestly don’t mind.

“Please,” you whisper, reaching down to thread your fingers in his sleep tossled curls.

Wonwoo wraps his lips around your clit, gently rocking the toy inside of you. He doesn’t pull it all the way out, just shifts the knot along your sensitive walls, stretched to the limit and already throbbing.

“Fuck, that’s so good, puppy,” you groan, throwing your head back, eyes clenching shut. You begin to rock your hips, feeling impossibly full- his mouth suctions lewdly around your sensitive bud and your entire body quakes, thighs shaking on either side of his head. “Shit-”

Wonwoo grins against your pussy, an invitation for you to cum on the toy-

Fuck, you need him so badly, and your need spurs your body on, your muscles clenching as you teeter on the edge of an orgasm.

His teeth graze your clit and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, your legs attempting to close around Wonwoo while your pussy throbs desperately around the toy. The sounds escaping you now are practically inhumane, your entire body overtaken by white hot pleasure that courses through you like an electric wave.

Wonwoo pulls the toy from your core and you jolt from the loss, eyes opening to stare down at your boyfriend-

He releases your clit from your mouth, standing quickly. “Fuck, you look so good cumming on that stupid toy,” Wonwoo groans, grabbing the base of his cock and lining his tip up with your still aching pussy. “Gonna fill you now, like I promised.”

He sheaths himself inside of you and you let out a loud moan of releif. “Puppy,” you whimper, making grabby hands at him.

Wonwoo wastes no time, shifting his knees onto the bed, getting on top of you so he can press his lips to yours. Your tongues begin to clash immediately, and the kiss feels almost feverish as you tangle your fingers in his curls.

He’s such a good kisser, but you can hardly focus on his lips with the way his hips are already moving, thrusting so the tip of his cock hits your cervix with each motion-

“Fuck, fuck-” you whimper, feeling tears in your eyes from the overstimulation.

Wonwoo’s mouth finds your throat, his mouth narrowing in on your sweet spot, sucking roughly.

“Puppy-” you cry, tangling your legs tighter around his hips.

“I know, I’m close too,” he pants. “Watching you take that fucking knot just does something to me-”

Your core throbs at his words- you’d guessed he’d been close while jacking off, but hearing him say it this directly makes you even hornier. Your pussy is a sloppy mess, so wet that each thrust has it practically squelching.

“Please, puppy, please-” you pant, nuzzling against his cheek and licking at his sensitive ear. “Want your cum, want it so bad.”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo groans. “Rub your clit, need you squeezing me when I cum.”

You shove a hand between your bodies, nearly crying from the sensitivity of your overworked bud- but you’re not about to give up now. You’re not a weakling, and if Wonwoo wants one more orgasm out of you, you’ll give him one.

“Feels so good,” you gasp, rubbing even harder, your core clenching tight around Wonwoo’s cock while he pants loudly in your ear.

“Need you to cum,” he grits out, fingers digging into your hips. “Come on, baby, cum for me.”

You shut your eyes tight, focusing on all the pleasure surging through you, and when Wonwoo bites gently into your throat, your high hits you straight on.

You gasp loudly, back arching off of the bed, pushing your tits toward Wonwoo’s chest. He releases his own sound of pleasure, and you can feel his cock throbbing while your walls clench around him, painting your insides as you both cum hard.

You listen to his moans, loving the way he grabs you tightly as he cums, his thrusts faltering, motions shallow, as if he wants to be as deep as possible when he fills you up.

Your lips find his throat, pressing kisses there that make him shiver as you ride out your orgasms, and soon, your muscles are relaxing, the tightness making way for a slacked, exhausted feeling that overwhelms you.

Wonwoo stills on top of you, panting loudly by your ear.

“I think…” he swallows thickly. “I think we should go back to sleep now.”

You laugh, petting his curls. “What about your precious video game?”

“Fuck the video game,” he counters. “Right now, I’m going to clean you up, go back to sleep with you curled on my chest, then we can wake up in a few hours, do it again, get takeout-”

“You have the whole day planned out, don’t you, nerd?”

Wonwoo only laughs. “Don’t test me, baby.”

“Never.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! As much as I love longer fics, I'm such an avid reader of pwp for the anime's I watch, so I wanted to do something shorter and easier for those who like a bite sized fic instead of a full course meal :)

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🔮 preview. “That’s it,” Wonwoo coos. He simply can’t help his dominant tendencies. How is it that you’re supposed to be the one in control, but it still feels like he’s got you wrapped around his finger... And his cock.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, handcuff bondage, reader tries to dom Wonwoo, edging, oral, blow job, pussy eating, 69, choking, dirty talk, pet names, reader is slightly in control, Wonwoo breaks the handcuffs, slight crying/dacryphilia, power dynamic, power switch, teasing, creampie, slight fallout roleplay, masturbation, deep throating, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby (his) puppy, sir

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3k I teaser wc. 130

🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

“Hey, puppy?” you call, standing in the doorway of your bedroom, watching your boyfriend close up his stream for the night.

“Yes, baby?”

The nerd doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing, but you suppose that’s no new behaviour. With a huff, you disconnect from the door frame, sauntering over to Wonwoo, your skin tight outfit squeezing you with each step.

Leaning over his back, you allow your hands to dance across his chest, Wonwoo looks down, and that’s when you get his attention.

His body goes rigid, and he slowly turns to look at you, taking in the full body Fallout Vault dweller costume you’re wearing.

“Baby…” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, “what are you doing?”

“Playing into your addiction,” you say smoothly. “What, you don’t like it?”

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#wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt hub #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #gamer wonwoo #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo svt #svt wonwoo #svt wonwoo smut #wonwoo svt smut

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help-itrappedmyself · 11 months ago

Text

Dead on Main AU 2

Masterpost

Jason blinks and he is not where he used to be. He can already tell he’s shorter and skinnier, and he’s staring at physics homework so he’s probably younger too. It takes him a moment to run all the scenarios. He knows what is most likely, he knows that soulmates body swap at sixteen and... Well, he’s not sure if he was dead or not for his sixteenth birthday, but he had been living on the assumption that he had missed it, whenever it was.

Now he thinks that he’s the older one in this relationship. If his soulmate just turned sixteen, he’s still a minor. Society gets a little more lax about these things when it comes to actual soulmate relationships, but Jason- despite the age difference only being around two years- is not lax about it at all. So if this is what he thinks it is, he is going to have to have a talk with his soulmate about being just friends for a while.

Which should be fine, it’s not like they know each other at all yet. Getting to know each other should take a while anyways. Though, he could start that now.

He looked to the right and saw the door to the bedroom on the same wall as the desk he was sitting at, and the door to the closet on the next wall. The bed is against the wall behind the desk, sitting in between two windows. There’s a nightstand with a lamp on it next to the bed and a chest of drawers against the wall to his left that has a mirror hanging over it. There are space posters on the walls all around the room.

Jason gets up and walks over to the mirror. The boy in the mirror is short and skinny, just like he thought. He has blue eyes and black hair that flops over his face. Jason takes a second to wonder if the kid had plans for his birthday, realizing probably not. It’s tradition nowadays to spend your sixteenth birthday with just your family in case the switch is made.

So, Jason's soulmate is what appears to be a normal, messy teenager. Posters, clothes on the floor, homework to do. Jason goes over to double check the homework, to see if he can find any that’s finished. There, his math assignment is already done, and it seems his soulmate’s name is Danny Fenton. He takes a closer look at all the school supplies and in his backpack and doesn’t find anything with the school name on it.

Taking another look around the room, Jason doesn’t see a phone, and it wasn’t in the backpack. Jason tries not to feel weird as he pats around his soulmate’s pockets. He finds a phone, thinks for a second, then types in his own number and calls.

It rings for a second. Someone picks up, but all Jason can hear is shouting until he hears his own voice.

“Um, hello, Jason?”

“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?”

“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”

“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?”

“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason heaves a long sigh. Danny chuckles.

“Right, well your name is Danny right?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?”

“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”

“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Jason laughs, he does not know how Danny made his voice sound like that, breathy and higher than his voice has been in years.

“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”

“I think so?” There’s a bit of a commotion. “Stop it, buzz off!”Is said away from the phone. “They said yes.”

“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”

Danny makes an I don’t know sort of hum. “Look, I do need to warn you… about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”

“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?”

“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.”

“Kid, what?” Jason rubs his hand down his face.

“This is really an in-person talk.”

Jason feels like he can relate. There are a lot of things a soulmate should know that Jason doesn’t know if he’s ever going to tell Danny but if he did he would want it to be in-person. “Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”

“Yep!” Again, Jason does not understand how Danny makes his voice sound so peppy. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”

Danny laughs and Jason hears a beep, before “You’re on speaker!” is called out.

“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick sounds way too excited.

“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells.

“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”

The room through the phone quiets down quickly except for Danny’s laughter.

“Oh, wow, same.”

“Danny! You know how we feel about the death jokes.” Jason hears as the door behind him opens. Talking starts up on the other end of the line, but he ignores it for the moment as a tall redhead walks in the room. She stops in front of him and raises her eyebrow.

“You must be Jazz.” Jason says. This gets a hush on the other end of the line. “I’m Jason.”

#batman #dcxdp #dpxdc #dcxdp crossover #danny phantom #dead on main #jason todd #red hood #fanfiction #my writing #soulmate au

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readerstories · 4 months ago

Text

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 1/?

God I'm a sucker for a soulmate au. (AO3) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn

Wordcount: 2347

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

Other info: About this au - Soulmates find each other through touch, which establishes a mental link that lets feelings through, and if solid and built up enough over time, simple thoughts/words can also come through. Some bonds are purely platonic, about ⅓ in total. Multiple soulmates are not unheard of, but rare, more common with platonic soulmates.

Quickly about the reader - mercenary/gunman/thug for hire. Great shot with pretty much any gun, has two knives as backup weapons, has fought with swords before. Looks wise he has hair and is shorter than Wade and Logan, but I try to keep no specific height in mind while writing. Has a few scars scattered over his body, but nothing specific as of yet. Does not want a soulmate, thinks it just leaves people vulnerable. Lives on his own in an apartment he owns and is content with his life.

All you were, really, was hired help.

All you were supposed to do was stand around and look scary with a few other tugs in a warehouse with high shelves stacked with crates, while your employer (a generous word for the drug dealer that hired you) met with another drug dealer.

It had gone tits up the second a man wearing a red and black spandex suit and katanas on his back of all things came crashing through a window.

You had dived for cover, because there are gunshots ringing out in the milliseconds after the glass shatters. You curse, reaching for your gun, with just one single 10 bullet magazine, because your stupid employer had insisted you only needed one when you asked for more. So to have something more you had your adamantium knives strapped to each thigh, hidden enough under your black joggers.

You curse under your breath, cause this is fucking awful. You hear gunshots over and over again, people are dying, wood from shipping crates are splintering, metal is hitting the floor.

And there’s talking.

Fucking talking.

“Come one guys, your aim is all off! Did none of you ever train on the neighborhood cats?”

Well, more like yelling. Because even though the warehouse wasn’t empty, it still had an echo. You are used to the loud sounds, it fuels your adrenaline as you peek out from behind the crate you are using as a shield.

The man, you are just going to call him Red for now, is flipping and bouncing between crates, avoiding any big hits. A few bullets graze an arm, but he doesn’t seem to take notice as his own bullets find their marks, bodies dropping around him. He’s nimble and quick about it, taking down guys from both sides with equal gusto, and you find yourself just watching him carefully. He’s almost elegant, light on his feet, and a jab or taunt spewing out of his mouth every few bullets.

Careful not to alert Red or anyone else about your position, you shift, gun in hand watching him saunter over to your employer, the last man standing. Well, not really, since he’s down on his knees, begging for something incoherent while fat tears and snot roll down his face.

“Newsflash asshole, I don’t care for your tragic backstory that the writer won’t let you talk about.” Red raises his gun, one last loud bang filling the warehouse before it’s quiet once again.

“Last fucking one, my counting skills once again making me win.” Red claps his hands together, before moving his hands to his hips, looking around the warehouse. “What a fucking mess.” He shakes his head, and you see your opportunity now that he thinks it’s all over.

You move up, pulling the trigger as soon as your gun is aimed right. Red doesn’t even get to turn before six bullets go through his chest, two through his throat, and the last two finding their mark in his skull. You shouldn’t use all your bullets on one target like that, but still you do. Red drops like a sack of potatoes, and you draw a sigh of relief, lowering your gun as you too look around the warehouse. You’re glad it’s far away from anything else, because it should take at least a few hours before the cops are alerted, and by that time you would be far away from this warehouse that is by now covered in blood, bullet casings, and dead men.

Your earlier relief turns into utter confusion as you hear shuffling, and when you turn back towards where Red’s body is, you see him shake his head where he lays crumpled on the floor, and seconds later he’s on his feet with a groan.

“Okay, good shot whoever that was.” You gape, words slipping out of your mouth without meaning to.

“What the fuck.” Red’s head snaps towards you.

“Oh, there you are.” His voice is light, almost like he’s halfway into song. “I would return the favor, but I’m fresh out of bullets so this will have to do.” He pulls out the katanas strapped to his back. You grab your knives, managing, somehow by the grace of whatever runs this universe, to bring it out just in time to block both katanas that were coming at you in tight formation.

“Oh so you weren’t just happy to see me.” Red jokes, and though you can’t see his face under the mask, you are pretty sure he is grinning. You grunt, because there is no way for your brain to form words as you parry another attack from him, retreating.

You are in no position to attack, so all you do is stop his, and try to escape, backing off. Or rather, you try to, but Red is not letting up, so all you end up doing is walking backwards through the warehouse in a vague path between boxes and shelves as he attacks.

He manages to get a few slashes here and there to connect, but they are shallow, just enough to draw blood and sting. One on your left arm, two on your right arm, three on your left leg. You wonder if amounts are on purpose. He seems to take it all as encouragement, laughing, keeping up his quick attacks.

You don’t know you hold out, breathing heavy, arms and hands hurting with how you are clutching and shielding with your knives like your life depends on it.

Because it 1000% fucking does, that’s why you manage.

Red finally lets up, just enough that you can create some space between the two of you. You don’t dare to actually turn and run, certain he has no moral code of cutting down someone from behind. So you just try to slowly create even more room between the two of you as you watch for his next attack.

“Oh I am having fun!” Red tries to clap, but he just knocks the hilts of his katanas together. “Though we are just a little unevenly matched here.” He sounds like he’s breathing just a little bit harder at least, even though there are no cuts next to the bullet holes riddling his suit. He tilts his head for a moment, then bends down, and then there’s a katana sliding over the floor, bumping into your boot. You look down at it, before looking back up at him.

“Come on, pick it up.” Shifting your knives into one hand, you keep your eyes on the white eyes of his mask as you bend down and pick up the sword.

“Oh yeah, look at me during.” You ignore his comment, feeling the weight of the katana in your hand. It’s heavy, but perfectly balanced, feeling perfect as you spin it in your hand a few times, the hilt still warm from Red’s earlier hold.

“Hot.” Red says as he twirls his second katana, mimicking you. Once more ignoring him, you put your knives back in their sheats. “Do you have them there to distract your enemies by making them think you are going to jerk off mid-battle?” You snort.

“No, they are there so they are more hidden, and more difficult to grab.”

“If you wanted my hands in your pants all you had to do was ask, baby.” You think Red is winking at you through the mask. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Shut the fuck up.” With both of your hands on the hilt of the katana, you are ready to defend yourself from his first attack.

“Ohhh, you remind me of someone. I think the two of you would get along, he’s also a man of few words. Maybe I’ll let you live so you can meet him and fight him too, more material for my spank bank.” He definitely winks this time, then you are defending yourself from another attack from him. It pushes you backwards, again, but this time, you are able to attack back.

Though you can’t help but wonder if he’s letting you, just indulging you. Because you can feel how strong he is when you parry his strikes, you felt how strong he was when all you had was your knives.

It’s a dance, a dance he lets you participate in as you block, attack, block, attack, block. Redirecting his sword coming for your throat so it splinters wood instead of flesh.

“How did you learn to fight like this?” Wade asks, almost spinning as his energy is redirected away from your body. He is at least breathing a little heavier, and for some reason, you find yourself having a little fun, even though you think you know how this is going to end.

“I was a loser in high school. What about you?” You speak through gritted teeth, the sound of metal on metal filling the warehouse as you block another attack. You don’t even know why you ask him back, but it feels right.

“Something similar.” It’s still kinda hard to tell, but you think he grins under his mask as you attack back.

You do get a few cuts in, deep enough that it slices through his suit and the skin underneath, but it leaves you with little satisfaction as you see the cuts heal in seconds. Though at least his suit can’t fix itself, growing more tattered by the minute as new slashes and old bullet holes make a mess of it.

“So you are not just a pretty face, there’s some skills there.” You frown, anger flaring, and you are about to say something, but with a quick move that you have no opportunity to block, and that truly demonstrates the difference between the two of you, he nicks you with just the tip of the katanta, just on the left corner of your mouth. You startle, but on instinct your tongue goes out to lick at the blood now sliding down to your skin. It just gives you more motivation to strike back, a big one that leaves behind what could almost be called a titty window on his chest, showing textured skin underneath.

“Ohhhh, freaky.” Red taunts, slicing your chest too, though your skin doesn’t heal when metal connects after slicing through your shirt like air. You curse, adrenaline causing your ears to roar, and the world to go a little fuzzy at the edges. You touch your chest, fingers coming back bloody, watching Red. Your own katana pointing towards the floor, ready, but down as you breathe heavily.

“Leaving yourself all open for me? You shouldn’t have.” Red coos, and that is what you are counting on. Letting him attack you straight on, thinking you have given up, so you can shove the katana through his skull, killing him again, and leaving you at least a few moments to high tail it out of there.

It’s what the plan is.

It does not work out like you intend it to.

It goes in a whole new direction.

Because when he comes close enough, you manage to get a hold on his shoulder, which gets you a hopefully not deadly slice over your abdomen for your efforts. You are moving quickly, seconds away from stabbing the katana through the bottom of his jaw. But then your fingers touch a bare spot on his shoulder where his suit had gotten torn, and there’s a sparkler going off in your brain, a sizzling sensation that settles in the back of your head as feelings of excitement, adrenaline, and happiness that are not your own speeds through your mind.

You gasp out loud.

You can’t help yourself.

Because you know what that was.

And there is no fucking way.

WHAT. THE. ABSOLUTE.

FUCK.

Fucking no.

A soulmate.

You have a fucking soulmate??????

And this is how you fucking meet him????

In all of your turmoil, you have dropped the katana that was destined to go through Red’s skull. He is a few paces behind you, not immediately attacking, just watching you as you turn around in your now mostly frozen state.

“Wh-”

“Touch me.” Red blinks, owlishly even with the white eyes of his mask.

“Wow, so forward. You know, con-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You march over to him, and in what seems to be confusion he lets you tug the glove of his hand that is not holding his katana. You interlace your fingers, the motion absurdly tender for the moment that is currently playing out. You see his eyes widen behind the mask, and you are sure his mouth opens and closes several times even hidden as it is.

“What the fuck.” The words are so soft out his mouth that you are not even sure he said them. Not that it matters, because a second later he is wrenching his hand back like you burned him. He runs past you, and you watch as he picks up his katana where you dropped it, and then keeps running after that brief slowdown, heading towards a door you hadn’t noticed while you were fighting. You startle yourself into action finally, following him, but he’s out the door before you can reach him.

On the other side there’s a hallway, and his back is quickly retreating, and all you feel is panic. You are not sure which of you it is coming from.

You try to keep up with him through multiple hallways, but he’s fast, getting out of the building before you do. It’s enough of a headstart that you only see backlights and hear the roar of a motorcycle speeding away.

You run over to where the cars you all arrived in earlier are parked, but of fucking course all tires are slashed. Not like you had any of the keys anyway, but they would have been easy enough to find in some dead man's pockets.

“Fucking MOTHERFUCKER!” You know he can’t hear you, but you hope Red feels your frustration through your bond as you punch the hood of a car, denting the metal.

(Part 2)

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kitchen-spoon · 1 year ago

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90’s au where Eddie is a porn star who hires Steve to be his child’s nanny to watch them while he works or has to fly away for a few days for work.

Eddie is popular because of his dark aesthetic, people are really into all the black clothes, the rings, crazy long hair, tattoos and piercings. He is also popular because he works with women and men and is know for it.

Steve and Robin had just moved to New York for Robin’s college and because Steve goes wherever she goes. They apply for jobs and are desperate so they even go to the library and reply to ads on Craigs list. That is when Steve sees a posting for someone looking for a nanny for their 2 year old daughter. It was basically a 9-5 almost everyday with extra pay for overnight weekend stays too. It seemed to good to be true but Steve applied anyway, what could the harm be?

That ad is how Steve met Eddie, the sexiest most confident man he’d ever met. He was so smooth and flirty and open about his job away from the small ears of his daughter who just knew daddy was a model. He’d toy with Steve, batting his big brown eyes, biting his lip and smirking at him during the small moments where their schedules would cross over and they’d see each other.

Eddie couldn’t help himself, he got bolder with time moving to leaning into Steve’s space to catch a whiff of his Cologne, fleeting touches just so he could feel the firmness of Steve’s muscles under his fingertips. Steve was exactly Eddie’s type, shorter than him and built with the sass and attitude of someone twice his size. He was a tan hairy Italian dream, and Eddie would do anything to taste that cross Steve wore around his neck. He couldn’t help but imagine the brunette oiled up, laying in the sun in the tinest little speedo, his perfect brown hair glowing.

The tension grows between them with each passing month, not helped by how much Eddie’s daughter loves Steve and how much it melts Eddie’s heart to see how gentle and sweet Steve is with her. It all comes to a head one night 5 months after Steve is hired. Steve does his usual stalling so he can stick around and flirt with Eddie before he leaves, relishing in the touches Eddie will give him. He gives in that night and agrees to stay for a glass of wine. They sit on Eddie’s couch, closer than anything that could pass as casual. Their knees were touching and Steve was leaned right in Eddie’s space, arm resting against the back of the couch as he looked up through his lashes while Eddie spoke. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice his wineglass slowly tipping over in his hand until it spilled all over his and Eddie’s laps.

They cleaned up in the kitchen, Steve blushing as Eddie called him sweetheart and hoisted him up on to the counter like he weighed nothing. Eddie dabbed at Steve’s pants, slowly moving up until he was pressing directly over the growing bulge in Steve’s pants. And then Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved Eddie’s hands away and slid his own into Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward so he could finally know what that tongue piercing felt like. Eddie didn’t let Steve have control for long, and they ended the night with Steve bent over the marble counter tops Eddie’s fingers shoved in his mouth to shut him up.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things ships #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things one shot #robin buckley #famous eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie prompt

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facioleeknow · 5 months ago

Text

The art of pleasure ch.8

Company ° I.N.

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: College AU, SMUT 18+ ONLY Wc: 2k+

TW: aftercare, threesome, consent is behind the scenes they are really into it and it's all consensual, pussy slapping, name calling, mean jeongin, oral (m rec), throat fucking, cumshots,creampie, let me know if I missed anything

AN: thank you for following and reading this series, I hope you all liked it! Please do leave feedback <3

The moments after your activities with Seungmin were a blur in your mind. Everything mixed together and nonsensical. You only remembered the world's softer tissue wiping away at your skin, Seungmin talking to the owner of the karaoke rooms and then his car. When you came to, you were safely tucked into bed with your clothes still on. Seungmin laid at your side on top of the bed, completely ruptured by something on his phone. His right hand slowly massaged your scalp.

“Minnie?” your voice was rough and hoarse.

Seungmin whipped his head so fast that for a moment he saw double. His phone flew to the other side of the room and in a second he was crowding you.

“How are you feeling? Everything okay?” His hand had moved from your hair to your face and was now drawing circles on your warm cheek. You just hummed and nodded, your limbs were so heavy and tired.

“Did you particularly like or dislike something?”

“I liked that we could get caught but I wanted more of your attention,” you pouted. If it had been any other moment in any other state of mind you would've been embarrassed but now you were just so content and tired that you didn't care.

“My attention was already on you, puppy, but if you want more I shall give you more,” he smiled and beamed at you. With a few stretches and pulls he got under the covers as well and promptly took you in his arms. It was weird with both of you fully clothed but you were grateful for the warmth that was seeping into you.

“Why didn't you take off my clothes?”

“You didn't give me permission, I can't take your clothes off without permission.”

Your heart warmed, he was a golden boy. Truly the perfect boyfriend anyone could have.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty, would you like to go out?” Seungmin had showed you his soft side once again and you couldn't help but be ecstatic about it.

“I was about to ask you, I was just thinking you were one of the nicest guys I've ever met.”

Seungmin hummed. His soft petal pink lips came in contact with your skin and fireworks erupted underneath it. Your head turned swiftly and you pressed a sweet and chaste kiss to his lips.

Ping. Ping.

Your phone interrupted your lovesick moment and you almost wanted to throw it away.

“I put your phone on the nightstand, you should answer it,” Seungmin spurred you on, his hands around you loosened.

Unknown number:

Hey noona, it's Innie, when are you free? I thought we could go to a cafe before our lesson. Just you and I :)

Chrispy boy <3:

Baby, how was the lesson with seungmin? We should talk about the next one, I remember you had some doubts

“It's Chan hyung, isn't it? He really likes you.”

You offered him an apologetic look, you had to go.

“Go, you can make it up to me on our date,” Seungmin pressed another feather light kiss on your cheek as goodbye and then walked you to his door after you had collected your things. The short walk from Seungmin's room to Chan's seemed even shorter that day. Knocking wasn't even an option at this point in your relationship, so you just swung the door open. Chan was laying in the bed, only in his boxers, typing something on his phone.

“Baby,” he beamed, “ I was about to text you again, come here.” You didn't even hesitate for a second before throwing yourself in his arms; you didn't care that your clothes would get wrinkly, you needed that Bang-hug.

“It went well with Seungmin.”

“Just well? Nothing else?”

“Yeah, I'm honestly just a bit worried about the next lesson, Chan. A threesome is a lot.”

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to,” his grip tightened on you and he squeezed you against his chest.

“It's not that I don't want to but I need to be sure about that other person. Do I know him? Does Innie know him? I just need to know,” you were clearly frustrated.

“What if that other person was me? Would you do it?”

You pushed yourself away from his chest to look him in the eyes.

“Are you serious?” Chan just nodded.

A threesome with your college best friend who had always treated you like you were royalty and a cute junior with dimples, a killer smile and a charming personality. That sounded like something out of your deepest fantasies.

“Okay, let's do it.”

Jeongin had insisted you two had a date alone, no Chan, just you two. ‘Its because hyung makes everything awkward,’ he had said in front of him but you hardly believed him. Chan wasn't awkward at all in front of girls, he was flirty and charming.

A cup placed in front of you snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you, Innie. This place is really nice.”

The cafe was spectacular, you had never seen a place with such a balance of chic and cozy and the beverages looked delicious as did the food.

“I came here with Seungmin hyung once, I wanted to take you here. Alone.”

So that was why Jeongin didn't want Chan around, he wanted to go on a date. With you. The thought made your head spin a little, he was one of the hottest freshmen on campus and he wanted you? Luck must have been really on your side.

“You wanted to come here with me? Why?”

He was cute, unbelievably so. His ears and cheeks were completely red and his gaze was on his mug.

“I think you're nice and pretty, and I’ve wanted to go out with you for a while.”

His sudden confession left you flabbergasted. THE Yang Jeongin wanted to go out with you.

“You don't have to answer right now, noona, take your time.”

“You're so cute Innie, thank you,” you got up from your chair and leaned across the table. Your lips pressed a light kiss on Jeongin’s cheek. You were so close now, you could feel his breath on you and heard him gulp loudly. His face was almost buried in your tits, you chose a low cut shirt for the occasion and you didn't care that he could see everything you had to offer, you wanted him to see.

I.N. stood abruptly and grabbed your wrist, with a sharp tug you were at his side.

“We've talked enough, noona, let's go.”

Jeongin's thumb swiped at your folds for what felt like the thousandth time. As soon as he had gotten you in Chan's room, he had removed your clothes hastily and pushed you back into Chan's arms. Your legs had been opened roughly and a pair of arms, a pair that you knew very very well had circled your middle to keep you in place. Jeongin had taken his place between them, a scowl on his pretty face.

Jeongin's thumb caught on your clit and your back arched, finally glad for some real stimulation but retreated as soon as it appeared.

“Are you a whore, noona?”

All you could do in response was pant and wriggle in Chan's grasp. The boys were both fully naked and you could feel Chan's cock against your backside and see Jeongin's drooling precum and looking painfully hard. You wanted to put your mouth around him and suck until his soul came out of it. At the thought a few drops of sleek dropped on the covers beneath you.

“Our baby has a mouth on him doesn't he?” Chan’s voice was supposed to be comforting compared to Jeongin's harshness but the contrast made you drip even more.

A sharp slap was delivered to your pussy.

“Answer me.” Jeongin was completely different in and outside of the bedroom, now you knew why girls came out of his room with shaky legs and a bewildered look in their eyes.

“N-no, I'm not,” you managed to stutter out.

“C'mon Innie, I'm sure she only wanted to show you, not the others,” Chan argued. His thumb slowly circled your flushed cheek and you leaned into his touch with a whimper.

“Shut her up, hyung, and you whore don't you dare cum.” Chan's lips were on yours in an instant, it was an awkward position, your neck would hurt like hell after, but just the thought of Chan's plush doll lips made everything better. Your best friend was an exceptional kisser, he wasn't rushed but not too slow either and he poured just enough passion into it. As ruptured as you were, you didn't notice Jeongin gathering your wetness on his fingers and then slamming them into you. Your back arched off Chan's chest so much that he had to wrap his arms tighter and pull you towards him again. Little whimpers and moans came out of you, the pleasure was so intense after all that teasing that you couldn't even lift your head up from Chan's shoulder.

“I said shut her up, hyung,” Jeongin spoke nonchalantly like he wasn't pistoning his fingers into your g spot and abusing your already sensitive pussy. If he had kept that up, it would've taken you mere seconds to cum.

“No, I wanna hear her,” Jeongin tsked at his answer but didn't say anything; yes everybody was whipped for the baby and let him get away with murder but that didn't mean that he didn't have to respect the eldest authority. Chan lowered his head to the shell of your ear and whispered: “ keep up the pretty noises, baby.”

“Channie, I'm close,” your voice and your legs shaky. Jeongin pulled his fingers out and stuck them in your mouth.

“Mh, best I’ve ever had.” Your face felt like you caught on fire. Baby bread was nasty.

“Hyung put her down with her head dangling from the edge, I want to fuck her mouth.”

Chan's muscly arms picked you up and threw you down on the bed, your thighs slicked at the show of strength. With your head upside down, you could see and feel Jeongin's presence above you even more intensely than before.

“Open up,” his tip prodded your lips and without a second thought you opened. He was big, longer than Changbin but less thick, you didn't doubt you could take him. At the first roll of his hips, a tear rolled down your face. Your eyes focused on his heavy balls slapping on your forehead, you wanted those in your mouth too. Jeongin's continued fucking your face with fluid and deep thrusts, his face was thrown back and scrunched up. He was pretty, really pretty.

Suddenly you felt something breach your entrance and soon Chan's tick and long cock was entering you.

“Hey baby, I'm sorry, I'm so worked up, I have to make you cum quickly,” his breath fanned over your collarbone and he pressed a soft kiss on your skin before he sent you back on Jeongin's cock with a sharp, quick thrust. His thumb pushed on your clit and relentlessly circled the poor swollen bud.

“Fuck, you're so wet baby,” Chan paired his words with another few heavy thrusts. His pace was frantic and almost animalistic, you wouldn't mind coming back to him after the whole ordeal to let him take his time with you.

Your attention snapped to the other boy when he squished your face in his hand, forcing you to open up your mouth.

“I wanna cum on your tits,” his voice was strained and sexy and so was his face. Jeongin pulled out of your wet and warm mouth and started quickly jerking his cock until white ropes of cum were cascading all over your chest. In the meantime Chan was still pounding into you with brute force. Your breath was erratic, your hands fisted your sheets; your orgasm was imminent but you didn't want all that to end.

“It's okay baby, let it go, I'm right behind you,” Chan leaned to once again kiss your skin, not caring if his friend's cum was staining his lips. The extremely erotic sight sent you barreling over the edge, your pussy gushed and pulsed around him. You felt your body go lax and you didn't even notice when Chan came inside you with the most sensual moan of all. When you came back to the land of the living, Jeongin was laying on your chest, fast asleep; his cute cheek completely squished. You cooed at the sight, baby bread was back being a baby.

“Are you okay, baby?” Chan sat next to you, his eyes, completely focused on your face, were sparkling as you had hung the moon and the stars personally. You just hummed in approval, there wasn't any energy in you left for more.

“You know what I was thinking, Channie? I wouldn't mind letting you take your time with me. Next time that is.”

Chris showed you that beautiful dimpled smile that he only reserved for a certain group of people.

“I wouldn't mind that either, I'm buying you food before tho, you're gonna need energy for what I'll do to you.”

@kflixnet

#straykidsland #kpop #reader insert #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #jeongin #jeongin x reader #jeongin smut #college au #stray kids au #jeongin college au #jeongin au #bang chan college au #bang chan au

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whalesforhands · 1 year ago

Note

Hii! I have an idea ☝️😈

What about teen gojo and geto meeting future reader and they’re all baffled and mesmerized and all this fluffy stuff and reader is just like “🧍‍♀️” confused since she was fighting a curse a few seconds ago- But the adult versions of the two are busy doing whatever else so she has to deal with them until the curse wears off?

Just wanted to ramble 🏃‍♀️ Merry Christmas!

i like ur rambling, anon. guess what timeline i picked, hehe. whether or not it’s canon to main dyf au, is for you to decide. merry christmas hohoho

You practically deflate onto the ground, knees scraping against the soft dirt whilst your poor, beaten up staff was used as your sole support where you had stabbed it into the dirt, your hands sliding down the handle of your weapon as the dust settles around you.

It was rare to have you deployed on-field for an exorcism of a curse, and even rarer for you to have to deal with anything above a Grade 2.

(Mainly due to your husbands who were sorely against you having to do any exorcism at all.)

But, alas, even they can’t slay every single curse in the world; the higher-ups having purposefully kept their most powerful busy as of late.

“And you promise to abandon your mission if you can’t defeat it?” A seriousness in his tone, almost dreadful, almost domineering in nature. Geto Suguru will not take no for an answer, his hands upon your shoulders squeezing lightly, trembling just ever so slightly.

“Do not fight anything you deem above your skill level.” Gojo Satoru is wholly deadpan, your pinkies interlocked in a promise as intense eyes stare you down. You feel his pinky tighten, restless, unlabeled impatience. Absent of any semblance of playfulness. “Okay?”

You’ve taken their words seriously, only taking fights that you know you would win; only running when you know you can’t.

A jujutsu sorcerer does not give their life up so easily.

You hear a rustle from the bushes, eyes darting behind you, and ripping your weapon out and readying for another face off just as you feel a familiar, overwhelming power looming just where you had looked away.

“Now, now, now.” That familiar voice, lacking in all the more mature tones you were used to, all the gentleness that you’ve grown so fond of.

“You’re gonna drop your weapon, put your pretty hands up and slowly turn around to face me.”

(You didn’t even hear his footsteps. Was he flying?)

There’s no hesitation in your compliance, the clatter of your staff to the ground as your hands are held up. The malice in the energy you feel all stoked and ready to explode at any given moment, the tones of his voice an underlying, upset melancholy.

You’re facing the Gojo Satoru, afterall. However, there’s an issue with him, something you’ve realized all too soon after loving him for so long.

There’s a tensed silence between the both of you during the stare-down, your eyes still getting used to his slightly shorter stature, much shorter hair as compared to your highschool days and current adult age. His cheeks a tad bit fuller, but eyes dulled considerably.

He’s still so cute.

“My Six Eyes tell me that you’re (name) (last name).” From your breathing pattern down to every last speck of your cursed energy; it was undeniably you. His eyes shine with quiet grief, and gritted regret as you meet his gaze.

You feel sorry for him.

“…but you’re not my (name).” You’re a little more mature looking, a little far too calm and collected in his presence. You’re the same; yet not the one he knew. His eyes narrow as the red on his glowing hand fizzles out, his stance commanding and broad as his feet finally touch the ground before you, using his looming height as a threat. It contrasts the way his voice cracks just as he ends his words, a beating silence enveloping the both of you as your heart calms, your hands slowly going down.

“And you’re not my Satoru.” It causes a stuttering, reddish plum to his cheeks, a throb to his heart that he hadn’t expected to feel, clenching his fists, a click of realization alongside his fingernails digging into his skin, intrepid gaze holding your calm one.

“So I am in another world.”

——

This wasn’t your Suguru either. His hair is messily bunned up, the bags under his eyes darker than you have ever seen him. His lips are dry, his complexion lacking any of the usual vigor your Suguru had.

He looks far too weary, far too tired as he sits upon a nearby bench, hunched over and just so exhausted that it makes you wonder when was the last time he has had a good night’s sleep.

“Oi, Suguru!” The ‘Satoru’ that you had met is all too keen to greet the boy, his hand around your elbow and pulling you along with him. “I found out where we’re at!” His loud call only heeds the visible slump of the black-haired boy’s tensed shoulders, eyes still cast towards the ground as the cicadas call around him.

“And I found somebody to help us.” He brings the both of yourselves to a stop before the blank boy.

“It’s nice to meet you?” You’re honestly at a loss for words at the situation. For how all powerful and odd Gojo’s powers can be, you hadn’t expected this situation one bit.

It’s at your voice that this ‘Geto Suguru’ nearly whirls his head back at a speed so quick that it nearly scares you. Dry, reddened eyes widening and mouth opening, getting up on shaky legs as he extends a hand towards you.

“You—“

——

“So…” The silence is far too awkward for you to be comfortable. “There was a (name) in your timeline too, I hear?” Your fingers are twiddling with your jujutsu uniform as you sat in between the both of them, their proximity a just inching between the line of too close whilst awaiting for Ijichi’s pickup to the campus.

‘Gojo Satoru’ is the first to speak up. “Yeah.”

A pause.

“Our (name) is… Dead.” You see ‘Geto Suguru’’s hands clench at his uniform pants, bundling the fabric up so tight that his knuckles started to turn white.

Oh. You feel bad now.

“I’m… Sorry about that.”

A breath is sucked in through his teeth. “Don’t be.”

You shouldn’t feel sorry for them at all. It’ll just make it worse than it already is.

Isn’t it funny? Comical? That their (name) had to be ripped away from their hold, had to be clawed away from their reach, only for fate to place another you; living, breathing right in front of them.

So palpable, so alike, so unbearably, painfully you. It makes them want to throw up in disgust, honestly. But they can’t.

Because it’s you.

“I-I’m sure that I-“ No. “Your (name) lived a good life if you were both around, then. Please- Trust me on this.” You know. You know that any version of ‘you’ would be satisfied with their life if they had friends like them; Gojo, Geto and Ieiri.

It’s a life that no version of you would ever regret. You wouldn’t regret becoming a jujutsu sorcerer if you had gotten to meet people like them.

And it brings two broken hearts just a tinge more comfort.

——

“Um, Satoru..”

“Yes?” It was a chorus of two similar voices.

“Ah— No. Uhm— My Satoru.” You’re a bit frazzled as you nod towards your blindfolded husband, a satisfied hum coming from him as he made his way towards you.

“Just call the other one Gojo! Or you can just call for your hubby~” He’s cooing into your ear for the duo to watch on, a hand on your waist to hook you in close as a smile is donned upon his face.

There’s a beat of silence before the more intimidating white-haired sorcerer spoke up.

“No. I want to be called Satoru.” The younger Gojo had had his eyes set upon you, never letting you leave his vicinity. Then, that means that the other ‘Geto Suguru’ would be called as simply ‘Suguru’, then.

“Your blindfold’s pretty lame. Do I actually want to wear that?”

Your Gojo chooses to turn his nose up, and ignore that sneer his younger counterpart gave him. “Man, I was so angry.” You hear a sigh as you see a hand wave off the younger boy. “Do whatever you please, little me. But don’tcha leave yet, please! My Suguru’s gonna be so stoked to see this.”

Oh, speaking of your Suguru.

“Did you tell him to pick up some dashi stock for our dinner tonight? I ran out yesterday.”

“…how about we just order a pizza tonight?”

“Sator— Gojo!” Your hands are immediately upon your hips as you feel him hug you towards him, a hand going up to stroke the back of your head, as your face is pressed to his chest to muffle the incoming scolding.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t be mad at me! A wife’s scorn is a husband’s greatest regret!”

“…you guys live all together?” ‘Suguru’’s voice breaks the moment between the both of you.

You feel a rumbling of your husband’s chest as a laugh is released.

“And we got kids together too. Ya jealous yet?”

——

“Aha, this is certainly a sight.” Suguru is shedding himself of his jacket as he kicks off his shoes by the genkan, the sight of his younger self, and double the Gojo certainly jarring for him as they sat around the dining table.

“Welcome home, honey!” It’s your Gojo that skips along to press an obnoxiously wet kiss to your other husband’s lips first as you gently place the final bowl of zaru soba down.

(Minus the miso soup side dish. You’re still slightly mad, but you have guests over.

“We could’ve just ordered a pizzaaaaaa!” Your husband’s whines are ignored as you strain the noodles out.

“I’m not feeding guests a pizza, dearest idiot husband of mind.” You pat your hands dry upon your apron, turning to flick at his forehead as he whines even more, begetting a giggle before you tiptoe up to press a kiss to the area.)

“Welcome home.” Your voice greeting your husband is lost on ‘Satoru’ and ‘Suguru’’s ears as they stare down at the bowl before them. The significance of the food almost making the cursed spirit user tear up.

This was his favourite food. It— ‘You’ and himself used to eat this frequently until—

“Suguru… Are you okay?” A whispered concern from his Satoru.

“Yeah. I—“ He thinks he’s going to be sick. “I’m fine.”

“It isn’t much, but I hope you enjoy it.” His ears finally tune back in just in time to hear your voice once more. Dreary copper-amethyst gaze flicking up to meet your warm, lovely face.

He’ll eat it. He’ll eat it. He’ll eat it.

“Don’t push yourself if you can’t.” It’s this world’s Suguru that pops in, much longer hair, his older features, his broader stature and more muscled body.

(Does— He know what he’s been through?)

His chopsticks are trembling as he brings the noodles to his lips, mouth opening and slowly chewing— He stops as a realization hits him.

It’s delicious. It’s so delicious. There are tears in his eyes as he begins to gobble it up, a hack in his throat as ‘Suguru’ pushes the urge to vomit away to take in more.

(If— if this was his final time meeting you- Then he has to. He has to. But— This is strange. Even his counterpart didn’t react all that much to his and Satoru’s appearance.

It occurs to him that perhaps, they aren’t in another world. If they’re meeting their older selves, then— Perhaps they are in another timeline.

Which means—)

His gaze returns down to the now empty bowl before him, before flickering up to meet your satisfied, almost prideful face.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“You’re welcome! I’m so happy you loved it that much!”

Perhaps this situation wasn’t so bad at all, giving him the chance to see your smiling face once more.

——

“If you give me a kiss, I’ll tell him~” Is he mocking his younger self…? You just wanted him to help the other ‘Satoru’ to get back to his world. Alas, you relent, leaning over to press a chaste, quick kiss to his cheek as your Geto watched on with upturned eyes and a happy smile.

“Hey, kid me.” A joyful hum, a satisfied gait as your Gojo watches the little boy who he once was.

“You already figured out how to go back already, right? Whatcha waiting for?” Huh…? Your Gojo already knows how to get them back?! Your eyes widen as you nearly choke on your water.

“Now, now Gojo. Don’t tease them.” Your Geto is chuckling, patting your back as you cough. “You’ll make our poor wife worried. I’m sure that they have some sort of unfinished business here.”

What?! Were they both in on this? This is just getting stranger, and stranger…

“Heh. Guess it isn’t a surprise I would know myself best, huh?” Satoru lets a cocky grin overtake his features as his fingers intertwined with his Suguru’s.

“Guess I really am the strongest.”

His gaze finally stops at you. “It was nice— Y’know.” He grows shy, eyes shifty from behind his sunglasses. “Seeing a (name) again.”

‘Suguru’ speaks up. “Thank you for— Allowing us to experience it again.” He’s grateful. The most he’s ever been, the most he’s ever felt ever since your passing.

Thank you. But— It’s only goodbye for now.

“It was nice meeting the both of you!” You’re bowing politely as you wave.

(The younger Suguru is finally smiling. Even if it’s just a little.)

“We’ll see you soon! Wait for us!” A salute and a bright grin. And in a flash, they have disappeared.

…what?

masterlist

Notes:

If you don’t get it, your current Satoru and Suguru have experienced what their younger counterparts have been through.

Younger Gojo and Geto have been watching every move you’ve been making. Keep that in mind if you ever reread this, haha.

During dinner, younger Gojo and Geto decided to share a bowl together since Geto hasn’t been able to eat a full meal without throwing up. It was the first time in a while he’s eaten so much. When Gojo saw how much he was eating, he asked for a separate bowl for himself.

Geto Suguru thinks he’s pretty handsome in this world. Would…you have liked someone like that too? His Satoru certainly does. He’s seen the shifty, almost shy gaze his Gojo threw the older Geto. Maybe he will grow out his hair.

“Aww, I was such an adorable brat!~” His hands are placed upon his cheeks as he cooed, watching as his husband and yourself cleared the plates.

“Hmm. I suppose you must’ve lost all that cuteness in your youth, wouldn’t you agree, darling?.” Suguru’s cooing back at him from the kitchen with a laugh, his body turning to you to ask for your opinion.

“His younger self was certainly so cute… But I suppose my answer depends on whether he helps with the dishes today.” You’re teasing him right back as you slowly wash the plate.

“W-what? Fine, I’m coming! Call me adorable, pleaseee!”

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk angst #gojo x reader #geto x reader

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koocycle · 2 years ago

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over wine | jjk | teaser part one

↳ synopsis. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.

over cocktails and dior-bowed roses.

pairing. husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader

teaser word count. 2k

estimated word count. 35k+

au + genre. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.

teaser warnings. mild cursing, suggestive and mature themes

send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

series masterlist

released on thursday, july 6th 2023.

Jeon Jungkook must be easy to love.

You figure he is, because anywhere the well-dressed man goes, curious eyes follow. Though you find it hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that makes the man so lovable in the eyes of your friends and neighbors. Your husband owns a great sense of fashion, in his defense. If we’re talking 10-minute trips to the only supermarket available in town, where the man makes sure his hair is slicked back and the first few buttons of his blouse are undone, then yes, Jungkook might have hit the bull's eye. It’s noticeable on people’s faces no matter where his feet carry him. Take the red-haired divorcée across the street for example, whose skirts get shorter each time she comes out to get her mail. Or take the head of the community garden every Saturday morning, who stoops a little lower each time she plucks another stock of radishes from her dirty, little yard.

Long story short, the man who got voted to grow the ‘’reddest tomatoes the neighborhood has ever seen’‘, is considered one of the hottest men on the block. Not like it ends there when he carries his good attitude with him no matter the day. As a beloved one who drives off to the office no matter the rush he’s in, Jungkook makes sure to slow the speed down and send a sweet wave to the elderly couple at the end of the street. After business hours, he would find lost mail in his letterbox, wrong packages at his porch, and missing kittens hidden in the trimmed bushes of his backyard. Yes, great guess; Jungkook in formal attire makes sure they find their way back to the rightful owner before it turns dark out. A smile on his face that’s sweeter than the candied apples he gifted Kim Namjoon’s 7-year-old the other day.

Yes, Jeon Jungkook from number 09 is the neighborhood’s heartthrob.

What is there not to love about your beloved Jungkook?

Perhaps his despicable wife?

‘‘You might want to lose the attitude before she comes back.’’ It is the first thing your husband says that is directed towards you, breaking the tense silence like nails scraping against a chalkboard. There’s a large gap between the both of you on the rather firm sofa and the silence you grant him does little to calm either of you down. The two-seater isn’t a very broad piece of furniture on itself, though it seems bigger when each of you is seated at the opposite arms. Glued to them like teenagers who got into a fight in the lunch cafeteria in between classes. You watch Jungkook slump down his seat in the corner of your eye, an arm resting over the edge in a way that makes his Blancpain watch shimmer prettily around his thick wrist.

‘‘Attitude?’’ You end up asking, glossed lips pursed together.

‘‘You know what I’m talking about.’’ He says flatly. Jungkook sounds like he couldn’t bother any less, but truth be told, the tight pause in his defense betrays him. His eyes fall to your folded arms and travel lower down your bare, crossed legs after. ‘‘You look like you don’t want to be here at all.” The Versace dress he got you hugs your hips just the way it’s supposed to and rides higher up your thigh with every minor movement you proceed to make. Ruby red polyester clashes with the neutrals in the room and you definitely seem like you don’t belong in such a formal setting, but fuck, he would have you bent over Mrs. Kang’s desk with your dress hunched around your waist if he weren’t supposed to be an angry fuck now.

You scoff at his foolish accusation. “Please, Jungkook,” a humorless chuckle dies down on your tongue when you can’t find it in you to fake it. “I was the one who had to beg you to clear your schedule for today’s appointment in the first place.”

“Then act like it. Don’t just sit here and sulk.” He bites like he had his response ready and set. Sharp eyes meet yours. “You’re acting like a child, pouting like it’s gonna get us anywhere. Seulgi is here to help us sort our shit out. At least let her do her damn job.”

Jungkook’s head slowly lolls to the back of the ivory-colored sofa when it’s off his chest, a puff of air leaving his lips like today’s session got him exhausted before it could even make its start. His eyes fall to a close as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The sight of it only makes the tight knot in your stomach grow and you can’t seem to tear your eyes off the heated man, a snarl on your lips you wish he’d notice.

“I told you, I want a second opinion.”

“And I told you, we’re not going through the hassle of finding another therapist when we got a fine one just under our nose.” Jungkook’s jaw tenses and he slumps down the sofa some more. “Give her time. She’s analyzing our relationship.”

His words trigger something inside you. They make you sit on the edge of your seat with heat rushing to your head, the Valentino Garavani mini bag falling off your lap and onto the cushions at the movement. “How much of an analysis does she need when we visit two times a week?” Your eyes fall on him. “Open your eyes, Kook. She always asks for my opinion and uses it against me a minute later. She is always on your side. We need a second opinion.”

“Just fucking drop it.” He mumbles to himself though he swears it’s for your own good. Also because the waiting area is only a door away and he doesn’t want to walk out of the heated office with judging eyes on him like last time. The walk of shame back to the car must have been the highlight of your visit. “I’m not gonna run around town and find you a straight, male therapist who’s blindly gonna agree with you the minute you flash him half a boob. Wasting our money like it’s nothing.”

Jungkook regrets saying that as soon as it’s out. He didn’t have to say that, he figures. Though when he’s met with silence and catches the roll of your eyes on his side, the pang of guilt disappears as soon as it came. You didn’t come here to argue here with him. Quite the opposite, considering your surroundings. Though it is getting hard to block that road when you aren’t one to bite your tongue either. “Of course you won’t. You love it when people suck on your dick.”

He should have seen that one coming. And he knows either one of you needs to stop barking back if you want to see any progress throughout your sessions with Mrs. Kang. Jungkook could be the bigger person if he wanted to be, but his egoism is rocket high. ‘’Say that again?’’

You fall to the back of the sofa as well, mirroring him with your arms crossed tight against your chest. “Seulgi is sucking you dry and you’re eating it up.” You mutter with gritted teeth. “Always picking your side, always defending you. . . you’re loving it and you can’t get enough.”

Jungkook says nothing and just listens to your quiet, angry mumbles at first. To him, you’re almost whining the words out like it’s going to get you anywhere. And maybe it would if the circumstances would be any different. If you weren’t forced to kill time in an empty office waiting for your couple’s therapist to return with your preferred coffee and biscuits. Kang Seulgi knows the deal by now; you like your spiced chai latte and he likes his shot of espresso so bitter that it sits on his tongue for the rest of the session.

He continues to watch you. Examine you, in some way. The sound of your rambling drawing out the more he loses himself in his own world. Issues roll off your tongue like you’re reading them off a long, unending list, and he feels like you’ve argued about these same things over and over again. Too many times for him to keep his focus when your breasts are pressed together so prettily in that dress.

You’ve had it for a while, Jungkook then recalls. A couple of years at most, but he remembers the day he bought it for you like it was last week. Initially, you told him no; you didn’t need him to buy you a dress for a price so ridiculous. He could buy you an extra large salmon bagel for lunch and you’d be the happiest woman in the room, is what you tried to convince him of. Though your eyes glimmered with adoration the minute you entered the store and held the designer piece in your hands. Moments after swearing you only wanted to see it up close and get a good feel. He remembers loving that glimmer in your eyes.

He wanted to see it more often, so Jeon Jungkook got you that Versace dress like it was nothing. You yelled and shrieked at him through the entire checkout and earned some nasty glances from the saleswomen, but he didn’t mind. He could take a hit from you. If a simple swipe of his card meant he’d see that look more often, then yes, Jungkook was willing to sell his soul for you.

“Are you even listening?” He doesn’t notice the corners of his lips slipping up until you tug him out of his daze. The apples of his cheeks show as quick as they die down.

“Yeah,” Jungkook groans and sits up straight. “I hear you. You’re just not making any sense, babe.”

Jungkook often finds several ways to make you roll your eyes and tighten your jaw, though he rarely makes you fume with steam blowing out of your ears.

Today is one of the days where he makes you fume with steam. He can tell by the way you avoid his eye in the hopes you won’t go all feral on him. Or how your glossed lips pettily press together, the Dior Addict lip oil one step away in your lip-combo routine from cussing him out until your voice goes hoarse.

You huff quietly, clearly holding back. “How am I not making sense? You’re not listening to a word I say.”

“I listen. You just have a hard time understanding me.”

It’s a thing you guys do, the finger-point thing. And it is something you do a lot. It’s a thing where either of you hopes that the other backs up when you point for long enough. A healthy relationship doesn’t work like that, is what Seulgi told you during your last session. As if you didn’t already know. But old habits are hard to get rid of, and certainly when it comes to you two, where someone else has to lose in order to win.

You didn’t think of her words as useful and made sure to voice the complaints about your newly found couple’s therapist the entire ride back home. Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure what to do with your critical feedback. The entire session, he was just waiting for Seulgi to hand him that step-by-step handbook to a successful marriage, which he hoped was attached to her clipboard. But he knew she wouldn’t have made it so easy for you even if she had it. Not with the amount of money he pays her per session. Because if we’re going to be honest, then no, Jungkook didn’t get Seulgi either. But he was willing to learn from her and understand her. Unlike you, who just sat there and might as well have filed and groomed your nails while you were at it.

Maybe you’re scared of whatever is yet to come, he ponders. Maybe you think you’re better off than whatever the future has planned out for you and Jungkook. He doesn’t know, and he can’t figure you out either.

full version, date of release july 6th 2023.

taglist: @codeinebelle @cxcotin @hrts4kook

please send me an ask to be added to the list.

#jungkook #jungkook teaser #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jjk #koocycle

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personasintro · 1 year ago

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Mutual Help | #31

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

The October cold air hits Jungkook's cheeks like a slap to his face, nor does he need it judging by the beating heart that hammers harshly in his chest. He can't remember the last time he was this nervous, probably on their first date as he wanted everything to go perfect and smoothly. And it went, beyond his expectations actually. However, he's not sure about this time because he has no idea how today will end.

And he's just minutes from finding it.

With each step he takes inside the restaurant, he feels like he could throw up onto the luxurious polished floor. For now, he tries to swallow down the lump that sits uncomfortably in his throat as a waitress welcomes him. The words about his reservation leave his mouth automatically, he barely puts any mind in what he's saying other than mentioning his name and the fact he made a reservation for tonight. The waitress smiles at him, completely oblivious to his racing heart and mind as she guides him through the restaurant. She says something to him but he doesn't pay any attention to her, he can't because his eyes are focused elsewhere until they stop on her.

The waitress shows him his seat, informing them something about her coming back in a few minutes when they'll decide on their order. But Jungkook barely acknowledges her, slowly sitting down as if the seat should burn him while his eyes don't leave Kiko.

He can't believe his own eyes. Not just because she's gorgeous like she's always been, or that her hair is shorter than he has ever seen on her. But her sitting in front of him, on the other side of the circled square table after two months of trying to meet up with her is certainly something different. It seems like her visiting her family in Japan has benefited her. The other times he's seen her, like at Seokjin's wedding or the camping trip, there was something in her eyes that he knew was wrong. And he got that answer.

It was guilt all along.

However, she smiles brightly at the waitress and thanks her with a bow, her whole face beaming from the natural glow that she's holding. At first, for someone not knowing her so well, someone would've thought that she doesn't feel as nervous or guilty anymore. Jungkook knows better though. Thus, her eyes flickering to him from the opposite side of the table and the sudden change in them tells him otherwise. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, giving him a weak and somehow shaky smile in return.

She's nervous.

Just like Jungkook that feels like his hands are already so sweaty that he ends up wiping them against the black slacks he's wearing.

"You're early," Jungkook starts, voice surprisingly confident but soft at the same time.

He wanted to make sure he's earlier than Kiko, just to have enough time to prepare himself for something he's been thinking and preparing for months. And maybe chug a glass of wine before she arrives to ease up his nerves and the possible outcome of tonight's night, because he doesn't know what to expect. But nothing could prepare him for tonight.

Attentive as always, he picked out one of the best restaurants — the one they used to come for dinner dates because the food is delicious. Jungkook thought that maybe picking up a familiar place would bring at least some kind of comfort. Although, he's not sure about that because none of that is on his mind right now.

"Yes," Kiko chuckles, the soft sound coming out shakily as she's looking at Jungkook.

He can tell she spent more time on her makeup than usual, the eyeliner making her eyes bigger and if he leaned closer, he'd see the soft peach eyeshadow coating her lids. There's no point of denying that she's beautiful, whether she wears makeup or not.

"I was nervous, actually I still am," she admits, and Jungkook mentally agrees with her because yes, he feels the same and can relate to that. "You came early too."

"I'm nervous too," he admits, lips lifting up in a slight grin as she smiles at him, letting out a faint giggle. "But I think you can already tell."

Of course, she can. Jungkook is not the only one who knows her, she knows him too. They weren't dating just for fun.

"This reminds me of our first date," she says, briefly laughing at the memory that seems so long ago but still very clear to both of them.

Jungkook joins her, remembering that time he finally had the guts to ask her out only for him to be a nervous wreck. They were holding hands for ten seconds before their hands got too sweaty, their anxiety acting up. But it wasn't awkward or embarrassing at all, they laughed it off and it was quite cute. The whole evening ended up much better than Jungkook thought.

He treated her to a nice dinner and then they went to a park, walked around while they were surrounded by nature and the moon glistening in the sky. He even got to kiss her when he drove her home. Well, it wasn't their first kiss but it still counts because by the end of the night, they both agreed on going on another date. This time as a boyfriend and a girlfriend.

"I don't think I've ever been that nervous on a date." she laughs, shaking her head.

"We were more anxious than we should've been." Jungkook agrees, taking into account how their date ended after all. There was no reason to be that nervous.

"Sorry," Kiko suddenly blurts out, shoulders sulking as if she just remembered something. She glances up from her lap and stares at him with that guilty look.

Jungkook's brows pinch together, growing worried and mostly confused by the sudden apology.

"Why am I bringing up our first date? That's so stupid," she scolds herself, huffing out an angered breath. "You're dating Y/N."

At the mention of your name, Jungkook's eyes widen and he realizes that Kiko doesn't know. The only people who know are Jimin and Taehyung, they are not exactly the type to blurt our other people's business, especially if it's you and him. They're curious, too curious for their own good and invested in your lives (which intensified when they found out the two of you 'are dating') but they wouldn't go around and speak about your lives to random people.

"About that... we're not dating anymore," Jungkook clarifies, tasting a weird taste in his mouth at the lie. Fuck, he hates lying but now it's not the time to come clear.

He wouldn't go on dinner with his ex-girlfriend if he was dating someone else. He's not that kind of an asshole. If he had a girlfriend, he wouldn't care to win Kiko back or try to save whatever their relationship is right now. Even if he maybe needed some kind of closure, he wouldn't meet up with his ex-girlfriend while he has a girlfriend waiting for him.

"We broke up."

Kiko's eyebrows shoot up at the information before they twist in somewhere between pity and guilt. But she doesn't say 'I'm sorry' or anything close to it because she knows how stupid that would sound. As much as Jungkook is a gentleman, she's not such a bitch to steal someone else's guy.

Sure, she didn't know that the two of you 'broke up' but knowing what the real purpose of this meetup is, she probably knew there is something else behind this. Jungkook wouldn't just ask her out for dinner, something that almost seems more intimate and romantic than lunch (at such a nice restaurant) or anything else. Yet, she still seems surprised to hear it.

She did confess that she still loves him. Jungkook is the one who has to think about other things too, and deal with them. She's looking for answers too.

"Why?" Is the word that leaves her mouth, instead of apology because both of them know how stupid that would sound.

But she still would feel sorry if the reason behind your break up is her. She never meant to come between your relationship. Jungkook was the one who kept insisting and pushing Kiko to answer his questions on the camping trip.

"We agreed that we're better as best friends." Jungkook answers, saying the same thing he said to the guys back in the club.

It seems like the most reasonable reason to say, especially when you and Jungkook are still best friends and completely fine. They'd question it if you said something else.

Kiko is not stupid. She may not be the full reason for your breakup, but she surely knows Jungkook isn't over her yet when he wanted to meet up and find the answer to the question; What now?

Their conversation is interrupted by the waitress, politely asking them about their orders but they haven't even checked the menu since they've sat down. Jungkook orders a steak, the first thing that comes to his mind and the only rational choice since he knows they have it on their regular menu. Kiko orders the same, knowing grins spreading on their lips. Jungkook orders wine, asking Kiko about her preference even though he knows she prefers white wine. Just like he predicted, the same answer rolls off her tongue before the waitress nods and leaves to get their order ready.

Kiko opens her mouth, ready to say something, ready to question the biggest question mark of tonight and Jungkook sees that, noticing her nervously rubbing her hands in her lap even from the opposite side.

"Let's eat first, okay? Then we can talk about... more serious stuff." Jungkook offers, not prepared to talk about that right now.

At least he wants to enjoy the food, he tries to tell himself. He just really wants to talk to her casually, acting as if nothing's wrong even if it's just for a moment.

"Yeah, sure." she smiles, trying to mask the way she sighs in relief but Jungkook notices, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

"You visited your family in Japan, right? How was it?"

He starts the conversation, feeling himself relax a little bit.

"Great, I needed that. It helped me a lot, I went there to think..." She starts nervously biting her bottom lip as Jungkook notices what she's aiming at, but he ignores it. "I was there for about... two months I think? I took a few weeks off and then worked from home. I'm incredibly lucky that my job allows me that, although my boss wasn't very happy about it. But I missed Korea. Japan is my home but I've built so much more here."

Jungkook nods in understatement. He feels the same way with Busan. This is one of the reasons why he fell in love with her. She's an easy person to talk to and they're both similar, understanding each other.

"How are your parents?" he asks with interest, remembering the lovely people that treated him so nicely when he went to Japan with Kiko.

Unfortunately, he didn't get to see them as often as Kiko got Jungkook's parents but it's only understandable, considering the distance. Busan is always closer than Japan. But it doesn't mean Kiko's parents aren't lovely either. If he ever thought about the future, he knew they would be amazing in-laws.

"Great," she smiles at the thought of her parents, almost wanting to say something but she closes her mouth and gives him a weak chuckle. "They're great. What," she hesitates, "What about your parents? How are they?"

She's careful about the topic of Jungkook's parents, knowing they've always loved her but who knows what they think about her right now.

"I went to visit them in August," Jungkook answers, mentally making a note to visit them as soon as possible.

Looking at it now, the nearest possible visit to his hometown will be on Christmas. Which is in two months, so it's not that far away but still, he'd be glad to visit them before that too. Unfortunately, this season is busy for him as he has scheduled weddings and photoshoots.

"They're doing great too. Mom's sad she doesn't get to see me more often but, yeah, that's nothing new." he breathes out a chuckle and Kiko joins, knowing how much Jungkook's mom loves her children.

She hesitates again, the question muffled and Jungkook has to lean slightly towards her to hear her better. "Did they, did they ask about me?"

Jungkook notices her face flushing with embarrassment and she avoids Jungkook's eyes for a moment, before she gets the courage to look at him again. He sucks in breath, tongue glazing over his dry bottom lip before he opens his mouth.

"Yeah, they did," he answers carefully, "They didn't know we broke up, so I had to tell them."

"They didn't know? Why?" she asks, growing bolder as curiosity is slowly replacing embarrassment.

He coughs, shifting on his spot. "I, uh, I didn't want them to know because I had a hard time admitting that it's over. I guess I was trying to persuade myself that it's not over yet. If I told them the truth at the very beginning, my mom would ask just too many questions and I didn't exactly feel like explaining to her why we broke up, since I didn't even know."

When it first happened, the first weeks after Kiko broke up with him all of a sudden, Jungkook's mom used to call him to check up on him. She's not calling him every day, knowing very well that he's got his own personal life now but when Jungkook failed to call her or even text her for two whole weeks, she grew worried and called him until he picked up. He remembers that his excuse was saying that he's sick, when his mom could tell something's wrong by listening to his weak and heartbroken voice.

"So... they don't know about..." she stops, biting onto her lip harshly.

The guilt and embarrassment is clear on her face, something that Jungkook notices right away. He's not the only one who's having a hard time talking about this, it's just a reminder of what she had done. And Jungkook knows what she's trying to ask, it's not that hard to guess.

"No," he answers, "You know they could never hate you, not even if I told them the truth. But I don't want them to know, I don't want them to look at you differently."

It's an incredibly huge and brave thing to do, but that only shows Jungkook's kindness because yet again, he thinks about others first before himself. Kiko broke up with him, she wasn't the one insisting on getting back together because from her point of view, she doesn't deserve him. But judging from what Jungkook heard from her or could see, she still loves him. If they both love each other, there's a chance they can get past this.

"Thank you," she whispers, her eyes suddenly growing big as she tries to blink away the tears that threaten to spill.

Jungkook almost reaches for her, wanting to comfort her but she chuckles at herself and shakes her head. "See? I don't deserve you. You're too good, Kookie."

He smiles at the nickname, "How about we enjoy that dinner, hm? No more serious talking until we're full." he offers, giving her another smile which almost makes her burst in tears as she slowly nods.

The waitress from before is already walking towards their table, a bottle of wine in her hands as they both allow themselves to relax a little bit.

They bring the food shortly after, reminding Jungkook one of the perks of eating in this restaurant – fast service. Him and Kiko chitchat through the food, the conversation surprisingly flowing naturally and comfortably as they sip on the white wine.

The rest of the dinner goes over Jungkook's expectations, shockingly there's not an ounce of nervousness inside him. Maybe a little uncertainty of what tonight can bring to him but there's one thing he's certain about. His wild mind and thoughts completely shut off as he and Kiko talked so freely, like nothing had changed between them. He had found himself being comfortable, even joked a few times and earned a couple of giggles from the woman on the opposite side of the table. The sound had brought him back to the time when everything was perfect for both of them, as a couple.

Once their dessert is already eaten, the empty plates being taken away from the waitress, they know it's the right time to get to the root of tonight's purpose. And just like that, there's uncertainty and maybe even discomfort lingering in the air as he sees Kiko shifting in her spot. He doesn't like that.

"I don't want to sugarcoat anything," he starts, putting down the glass of sparkling water he ordered since he drove here with a car and doesn't want to risk drinking more than he is allowed. He has never done that and doesn't plan on doing.

He watches her giving him a brief nod of understatement, anxiously looking at her nude nails which Jungkook recognizes as another sign of her being nervous. He knows that if they weren't in a restaurant, she would pick on her nails too.

"You know why I asked you to meet up," he sighs, trying to speak carefully as she listens to him. "I wanted to see how this night would go, if anything is worth saving..." Their relationship.

"And I guess, I wanted to see how I feel about you even after... you told me," he says, flickering his eyes to meet hers as she looks like she's ten seconds from crying. "We didn't have that much time and space to talk."

She stays quiet, slowly nodding along his words not interrupting what he has to say. She knows he has to get it off his chest and it's only fair for her to listen to him.

"Do you love me, Kik?" he asks suddenly, surprising her as her eyes widen and she straightens up slightly.

"Yes," She doesn't miss a beat to answer. "I know I screwed up, I hurt you so much and I'll never forgive myself. And I thought you'd never want to see me again, I thought you'd hate me."

"I told you I could never hate you," he says quietly, "No matter how much you've hurt me."

"But you should," she says, her voice hardening as she frowns. "You should hate me. Just tell me one thing. You didn't break up with Y/N because of me, right?"

It surprises how guilty she sounds, even his eyebrows shoot up a bit at the question as he nibbles on his bottom lip. Technically, you "broke up" because of her but realistically, you've never dated in the first place. Things got messy ever since he figured out that she didn't break up with him because she wanted space. The whole thing was supposed to be easy – he wanted to know if she still loves him and if she saw you with him, that would be his answer. But the whole thing blew up into something completely different and big, something that hurt him ten times worse than the actual breakup.

"I told you," he mutters, "We're better as best friends. There are no hard feelings."

"That's hard to believe," she chuckles, looking down at her lap shyly. "You both seemed happy together."

Jungkook almost chokes on his spit, wanting her to assure her that it wasn't like that. Yes, you both enjoyed time spent together but it wasn't like that. It's not what she's implying. He keeps his mouth sealed, not wanting to expose the real reason behind the two of you 'being happy together'. It's not the right time anyway. He'll tell her eventually, plus, he's not the one who cheated.

"I was happy with you too."

She widens her eyes, letting out a cough. "I know," she admits, "I never planned on telling you. I wanted to spare you the pain but you kept insisting..."

"So it's my fault?" he shoots, cursing at himself when he sees the shock on her face mixed with hurt and guilt.

"No, of course not," she shakes her head, looking like she's in pain. "It's all my fault, I know that."

"That's not what I meant," He's the one who shakes his head. "Look, I'm not gonna lie. This dinner made me realize that things aren't that bad between us, we can still talk and it feels like nothing changed. You're still the woman I fell in love with, I guess it's obvious I still love you. I wouldn't have gone through all of this if I didn't."

She can't help but smile at the mention of him still loving her. She doesn't deserve him, she knows but her heart is screaming at her for fighting for him.

"I love you too." she whispers as Jungkook's heart jumps at that. It hits differently when she says it so openly, instead of answering his question with a simple 'yes'.

"But I can't forget what you've done," His voice shivers, "But I can forgive slowly."

"What do you mean?" she asks cautiously, her breath catching in her throat as she sees him taking a breath, staring right back into her eyes.

"I want you back," he confesses, her mouth opening as her eyes water with tears. "And I believe we can get through this."

"I'll do anything you need me to." she says, wanting nothing else than to reach towards him. She holds herself, watching his doe eyes flickering between her eyes and the table.

"Time," he breathes out, "I need time."

The muted music carries itself around the closed club, much softer than it'll be playing in twenty minutes before a bunch of people with a purpose to get drunk and have fun will be allowed to come in. You can't help but feel a little uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach because you don't know what to expect.

"I don't like this."

Your best friend's voice resounds, not really helping with your inner battle with an uneasy feeling.

"I know," you roll your eyes, "You told me like hundreds of times by now." you mutter, raising a brow at him as he stares at you from the other side of the bar, sitting on one of the stools while watching you.

Realizing that he's not really helping, he sighs and slouches his shoulders. "No, I mean... Do you think this is really a good idea?"

"What other option do I have, Jungkook?" you ask, almost annoyingly even though you know he is only worried and cares about you.

It happened only recently that you've made your decision to work a part-time job in a club in Itaewon. If somebody told you you'll spend some of your weekends working behind a bar in a club, you'd most likely laugh in their face and tell them that's not going to happen. Well, it did. Inconveniently, your car started to show the consequences of its old age. Not only had it started taking tools on you financially, the engine stopped working and you'd spend a few minutes in front of the company's building trying to start it. Then you had to buy new brakes because the old ones have not worked properly and there are still a bunch of things that need to be replaced. The middle aged mechanic who's been in charge of your car in the car service you've entrusted your precious old car into has told you, it's probably best to look for a better car because this one will just cost you money.

"I could always lend you some money." he tries, ignoring the glare you're giving him.

You know Jungkook has some saved up money but you can't let him do that. What if his new car breaks down all of a sudden? What would he do then? Jungkook doesn't really think about possible consequences and scenarios that can happen. He's so determined to lend you his money that he doesn't think about himself, and you can't let that happen.

"It's just for a few months, anyway," you wave your hand at him, ignoring his attempt of changing your mind even though he knows you've decided.

You're standing behind a bar, aren't you? It's already done, but you could still back out.

The funniest thing is how you got into this job and the person who helped you to get this job is the least person you ever thought would help you. It's actually pretty random too.

It was one of those days when your car wouldn't work, so you just sat inside your car with a completely annoyed and pissed expression. All you wanted was to get home, get out of your work clothes and take a nice shower. The last person you expected to be knocking on your window is none other than Min Yoongi himself, grinning at you or maybe even laughing at your desperate expression.

"What do you want?" you grumble annoyingly once the car's window is rolled down.

He has the audacity to lean his arms against your rolled down window, almost sticking his head into your car as you want to sneer at the close proximity.

"You in trouble, grumpy?" He even has the audacity to laugh, cackling at your sore expression.

Of course he knows about your trouble with your car. He has spent a good week grinning whenever he walked up to his car, seeing you struggling to start the engine while passing by yours. It's only now he stopped by.

"Why are you asking such a dumb question? Of course, I'm in trouble. My car is not working and you know that, so please spare me the--"

"Jesus, okay, calm down you maniac," he stops you, straightening himself and giving you some space to breathe. "Get that fat ass out of your car, I'm gonna help you start the engine."

"How are you gonna do that?" you speak, narrowing your eyes as he looks at you dumbfoundedly.

"Using jumper cables, of course." he deadpans, and fuck, you hate the look he gives you. Like you're dumb, you hate when people do that. Or naturally looking down on you because you're a woman.

"I know what that is, thanks." you snap, opening the door so you can step out of your car.

"Really? Why haven't you used it then?" he raises a brow at you.

"Because I don't have those cables?" you react by raising your voice. He's getting on your nerves again.

Still, everyone is already home. You and Yoongi had to stay behind and work overtime again.

"Then you should've asked someone for help." he snaps, annoyed by your attitude. It's the same thing with you two. Both too stubborn and annoyed at each other to stand back and keep your mouth shut.

"Someone? Who? You?" you laugh bitterly, knowing he had a fair share of fun while watching you struggle with your car.

"I'm helping you, aren't I?" he shoots back, walking to the white Toyota that's parked just a few parking places from yours.

You watch him unlock the car, sitting into it as he drives and parks it in front of your car. He walks out, pulling out the jumper cables out of the truck. It looks weird, seeing him in his shirt and blazer while holding those cables.

"Do you even know how to do this?" you ask, hugging yourself with your jacket as the end of September's breeze runs chills. Yoongi's pink cheeks are proof that you're not the only one getting cold.

You watch him opening his car hood as he does the same to yours before he raises a brow at you. Well, he certainly knows what to do with those cables but you still had to ask. You've never seen him doing such a thing (of course you didn't, you don't actually spend time with him outside of work) and even in work, he's known as being lazy. Still gets the job done though, but you never tell him that.

"I'm not completely useless," he grumbles at you.

The irritated part of you wants to snap back, not giving him that satisfaction of you being quiet but that's exactly what you must do. He's the only help you've got right now. It's already late and dark outside for you to be sitting in a car in an almost empty parking lot.

"Now shut up and turn on your flashlight, I can't see shit in this darkness." he grumbles as usual, shooting you a glare as you fume at his words.

Patience, Y/N. He's the only one who can help you.

So, keeping your mouth shut, you pull out your phone and turn on the flashlight while he starts ordering you around. You're sure he's doing that to piss you off even more but you ignore it, changing the angle of the flashlight every five seconds with clenched teeth as he keeps nagging you.

Your car started after that, but the same thing happened a few more times leaving you completely helpless and you can't believe it, but you complained to Yoongi during the lunch break. He seemed completely unimpressed with your issue, sipping on his iced Americano like you were talking about the weather instead of your actual problem.

And you were sure he didn't even listen to your single word, praying when you'll finally shut up until he opened his mouth and surprisingly, nothing bitter came out of it.

"My brother owns a club and he's looking for someone to work behind a bar."

You stare at him with an open mouth, ready to cuss him out for interrupting you in the middle of your sentence but you pause yourself. He has a brother? And he owns a club? Why does it feel like everyone owns something? Jungkook's friend Seokjin, owns a restaurant and Jungkook's brother owns a coffee shop.

"Behind a bar?" It's funny how your voice is quiet and timid, assuring that you've heard your co-worker right.

"Yeah, I mean... it's not exactly a dream job but he pays well. I could ask him, you know... if you're interested." he mumbles the last part, almost looking regretful that he even started in the first place.

You're intrigued. You're not going to lie, you started looking for a part-time job but most of them weren't going well with your working schedule. You need something where you'll be able to work during weekends only.

"I've never mixed a drink. I don't know how to do any of that stuff." you admit, hating that you sound stupid in front of him but it's true. Apart from the failed drinks you were trying to mix for your friends which unfortunately, ended up unsuccessfully. You remember Jimin's cringed expression and Taehyung looking like he's just seconds from throwing up very clearly.

"He'll teach you everything you need to know. He needs a little help behind the bar," he shrugs, "And I'm sure he'll be able to adjust to your working schedule too."

You stare at your co-worker, recognizing the way he's avoiding eye contact as he keeps sipping on his Americano while staring at the busy streets of Seoul. Your lips curl into a grin, your hand draping over his shoulder as he tenses and gives you a glare, silently asking why the hell are you touching him.

"Min Yoongi, are you helping me?" you ask, not able to hide the grin and amusement in your voice as he doesn't waste a second, scoffing at you.

"No," he disagrees, but what could you expect from him, right? "I'm just tired of listening to you complaining, I'm sure my ears are bleeding at this point."

You clench your teeth, rolling your eyes at him. "I don't know, working at a club seems dangerous."

"That's why there's security there." he deadpans, causing you to scowl.

"And I'm a woman. Working in a club where there are a bunch of drunk idiots all the time seems kinda dangerous." you point out, voice harsh but you try to control yourself since you're not alone in the breakroom.

"Don't flatter yourself," he says, looking you up and down as you scoff. "My brother cares about the safety of his customers and employees. It's not that bad as it sounds." he decides to say, almost as if he has the need to have his brother's back even though you've never specifically said something about him or his working ethic.

You purse your lips for a moment, staring at the view with Yoongi by your side. He is an annoying co-worker and sometimes, you're sure he hates your guts and loves making your days at work miserable with his snarky remarks. But you're sure he wouldn't be offering you a job at his brother's club, someone who's close to him. And it's very rare to see him speaking to you about something so freely and casually, and that's how you know he's honest.

"Okay, can you give me his number?"

And here you are. After coming here for a couple of days, trying to learn how to mix a proper drink (just the simple ones since the difficult drinks are Mark's responsibility). A guy who's close to your age with a nice and friendly smile.

You don't know what you expected when you were about to meet Yoongi's brother for the first time, but you definitely didn't expect someone so friendly and well-mannered. The opposite of his younger brother who happens to be your co-worker too. Deep down, you know he's not that bad of a type guy and it's just his personality that's shitty. Some part of you thought his brother would secretly hate you. That's what siblings do, right? Having each other's back by hating the same person.

Yejun is in his mid thirties, very polite and professional and there's only a little resemblance between him and his annoying younger brother. He's been nothing but polite and very flexible when it comes to your working schedule. So far, you won't be working every weekend and the pay is really good, Yoongi was right about that one.

Actually, he was right about most of the stuff. The place is secure and Yejun made sure to tell you that if someone is being persistent and rude, just tell one of the security guys and they'll have that person kicked out. That definitely settled your nerves.

"What if something happens to you?" Jungkook asks, the doe eyes staring at you with a sudden alarm at the thought of you being hurt by one of the drunken males.

He's not stupid, he knows what working in a bar involves and he definitely knows how drunk men often think about women way out of their league. Men can be real pigs. It doesn't matter that your working attire consists of light blue jeans and a simple tight white shirt with a tiny club's logo on the right side.

"There are security men in every corner, I'm safe here. Plus, I'll be behind a bar all the time with Mark," you say, pointing towards the mentioned man who's talking with one of the bouncers.

Jungkook follows your vision, frown settled on his face as he doesn't look to be too convinced.

"And the break room is just right next to the bar where one of the security guys will be standing all night."

It seems like you're trying to convince him, but the truth is you're trying to convince yourself too. You're nervous after all, not knowing what to expect.

"What if someone follows you outside?" he exclaims, trying to prove a point as you roll your eyes at him. Again.

"Jesus, Jeon," you groan, "You're not helping."

He looks guilty, shrugging before he mumbles; "I'm just trying to prove a point."

Yeah, well there was a reason why you haven't told him about this before it was hundred percent sure and you signed a contract.

"Our cars are parked behind the club, no one has access to that parking lot, just the staff."

He frowns, you see the wheels turning inside his head and how much he tries to keep his mouth shut. He wants to say something else but knows he's no help, especially when tonight is your first day and you're already nervous as it is.

"But how was the dinner?" you ask, trying to change the topic and well, you're curious how that ended.

Ever since Jungkook came into the club to check on you, he never uttered a single word about it and started to voice out his worry about your new part-time job instead. Maybe it was his way of distracting himself or distancing this conversation, although there is no reason to. He'd tell you eventually.

Even when you called him this morning, he sounded so freaking nervous and as much as he tried to hide it by trying to act and sound cool, you know him better than that. He's been preparing for that dinner for weeks, checking his phone in fear Kiko would cancel it. Even though you had usually hung out during weekends, since the two of you work during the week, you could easily see him trying to distract himself by thinking about her or the dinner.

"It was... good. Better than I thought it would be." he answers honestly, shifting on his spot.

Well, he definitely made sure to look good on that dinner. He came here straight from it, wearing button-up and black slacks, replacing his all black and loose outfits with much more elegant appearance. His hair is styled nicely, parted in the middle while he's hiding the undercut beneath it. It's a change from the constant man bun or a bucket hat he's been wearing often these days.

"What does that mean?" you ask, flickering your eyes to his while there's a little knowing feeling inside of you.

First of all, he doesn't look miserable. If the dinner went wrong, he wouldn't be sitting here so casually. And then as soon as he registers your question, a sheepish grin settles on his lips while there's a slight shimmer in his eyes and then you know.

"That I got what I wanted?" he asks unsurely, dodging answering your question directly as you raise a brow at him.

You're sure you look dumbfounded, the look you're giving him dares him to say it directly and he looks almost alarmed. Still, you're controlling yourself because you know how much this means to him. Although, there is a pinch of hope inside you hoping he'll tell you otherwise.

"Which is?" you murmur, already knowing what his answer is but how can you glare at him for listening to his heart? Especially when he smiles, genuinely smiling with happiness that you haven't seen in him for a while.

He sighs, raising his brow as if it's not obvious but then he takes a deep breath and beams; "Kiko."

Unfortunately, you can't quite share the happiness with him, even though he's your best friend and you support him. Is that wrong of you? You can't help it, you just can't support a relationship and a woman that cheated on him when he gave her everything. He was ready to ask her to move in for fucks sake. He had been so serious about their relationship, wanting to take another step and she crushed his heart just like that. And that's not even the worst part. She cheated. She freaking cheated on one of the best men walking on this planet.

And even the stiff smile you give him, murmuring 'congratulations' doesn't go unnoticed by him and his shoulder slouch a little, letting out a defeated sigh.

"Please, don't look at me like that." he pleads, hand rubbing his forehead with a tiny distress.

"Like what?" you ask innocently, feeling bad for having that kind of reaction. But you can't control it! It's not your fault you'd jump at her and slap her face for hurting your best friend. It's all on her.

"Like you're disappointed in me."

That one hurt. Your eyes flash with guilt and sadness before you let out a sigh, leaning yourself against the bar and closer to him.

"It's your life, Kook," you remind him, "Whatever makes you happy." you smile, but Jungkook's brows furrow in a slight frown when he recognizes your smile as forced.

"I don't want you to hate her, she regrets it, you know. And we're taking it slow." he tells you softly, pleadingly staring at you while you let out a snort.

"I don't hate her." Yes, you do. But you can't tell him that, that would break him.

"I don't want to be put into a position to choose between you two."

"You don't have to. I'm your best friend and she's your girlfriend," Fuck, even that word tastes bitter in your mouth. "You didn't have to choose in the first place. It's been her all along."

"But I still want my best friend. You're important to me, Y/N," he says, sounding serious and genuine. "I just... I don't want you to hate her because one day, you'll probably see her again and I don't want you guys to have some... I don't know, tension between you two." he tries to explain.

It makes sense. You feel bad for reacting the way you do but again, you can't control it. You can't fake your emotions and opinion about their relationship or Kiko, Jungkook knows very well what you think about this. You're not about to say you hate her and don't want him to be with her, because she'll ruin him. And if it's not going to be her, it's going to be the fact she cheated on him. You still control yourself as best as you can, thinking about Jungkook's feelings knowing what he's trying to say with his.

He doesn't want you to hate each other because like he said, eventually your paths will cross whether you like it or not. She's a part of Jungkook's life and you're too.

"Look, I'm not gonna pretend I like her because I know she hurt you. And maybe you're over it, or trying to be... but I'm not. But it's also not my relationship or any of my business. I just hope she won't hurt you again. I really wish you to be happy." you tell him honestly, seeing him giving you a soft and appreciative smile.

"You're the best," he says with a smile, "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

You smile back at him, this one a tiny bit more honest when you see the happiness dancing in his eyes. This is what he wanted after all, you both got what you wanted from your deal. And you should be happy...

Somehow, you still don't feel content because so much has happened. Things you both haven't expected like her hurting him for the second time, breaking his heart again and you have to remind yourself that this is what he wants. No matter how many times you find it wrong in so many ways (getting back to an ex who cheated), it's Jungkook's decision. You're just looking out for him, the same way he does for you right now. Sitting on the bar stool with sparkling water in front of him because he had driven here, making sure he's here to support you on your first day.

You just hope he'll be there for you on other days too. You just got him back, you're not quite ready for him to focus on Kiko all over again. Maybe it's a selfish or just natural reaction of a best friend that missed him.

And when Mark calls out to you, informing you the club is opening in five minutes, Jungkook is there to assure you that you'll do great and he's right there.

And maybe, just maybe, this time it'll be different. And just like Jungkook hoped to win Kiko back, you hope nothing will change and you won't lose him again.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #personasintro

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headkiss · 2 years ago

Text

single thread (pt. 2)

part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: spider-man!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after the kiss, that string between you and steve seems to get thinner, shorter. you find out some things about him, too.

word count: 7.6k

warnings: spiderman!steve au, a little angst, fluff, injuries (most likely some inaccurate descriptions of them), idiots!!!!

a/n: part two is hereeee!!! thank u guys for all the love on the first one, i hope u guys continue to enjoy this one :,)

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

If it’s even possible, Steve thinks about you more after the kiss.

Kisses don’t usually feel like that. At least, he doesn’t think they do because he can’t remember what any other kiss felt like. You were enough to erase any that happened before you came along.

It was the best kiss he’s ever had and he never should’ve done it. Being friends with you was one thing, but letting his feelings get involved… there’s no turning back from that.

He’s sure that if he said any of this to Robin she'd call him a dingus and tell him to ask you out, but he can’t do it. He can’t.

You wouldn’t know what you’d be getting yourself into. That is, if you’d even want him at all. The injuries he comes home with—more so than what you’ve patched up yourself—the things he’s had to do, all of it.

You’re too soft, too good, for him to weigh you down with it.

He likes you so much, he knows he does. He likes you so much that he doesn’t want to do anything that could end up with you getting hurt or being unhappy. If that means only being your friend, he’ll do it.

He meant it when he said he never hated you, that much is obvious. And he meant it when he kissed you, the way he felt. He felt brave then, he makes himself brave everytime he puts on his suit, but he’s afraid of this. Of being with you fully, letting you know the truth.

It's been days, maybe a week, since he kissed you and neither of you have brought it up. Steve’s been trying to figure out what to say, how to tell you he’s not sorry for kissing you but he can’t do it again.

Today, he’s decided he’s gonna try. He taps his knuckles against your door, all too familiar of an action by now.

“Just a second!” You call. Even just hearing your voice, Steve knows it’ll be hard to have this conversation and sound like he means it.

You open the door, hair pulled away from your face, “hi, Steve.”

“Hey.”

You’re opening the door wider and stepping aside to let him in before he even asks.

Steve’s eyes are as soft as ever, his smile shy, almost nervous. Looking at him, you still can't believe he kissed you, that he opened up with just a few words.

Never hated you.

“Everything okay?” You ask him. It’s early in the afternoon, and if Steve’s knocking on your door, it’s usually late. You wonder why it’s different this time.

“Yeah. Yep. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” nerves bubble in your stomach.

“I kissed you,” the words come out in a rush, like he had to force them out, to bring it up.

“You did.”

“I’m sorry that I haven’t said anything about it. I just, um, needed to think about what to say.”

He sounds more serious than he has with you in a while. Since you started bringing him meals and he started to let you in. You twist your hands in front of you.

“I never said anything, either.”

He shakes his head. “I’m really glad to know you, okay? I just think, maybe, being friends works for us, right? And I don’t want to mess that up, so…”

“So we don’t kiss again.” You hope your voice doesn’t show your disappointment.

You like Steve an embarrassing amount, and when he kissed you, your heart expanded in your chest. A balloon filling up with air until, inevitably, it’d pop. Now, he’s letting you down easy and he’s being so gentle about it that it makes you wanna cry even more.

Damn him for being such a good guy.

“Is that okay?”

“Steve, we’re friends. Don’t worry about it. We’re good, promise.”

You mean it. It’s okay, he can’t help the way he feels and even if it’s not what you’d been hoping for, it’s not his fault you got your hopes up. You’d rather be his friend than be nothing at all.

You can squish your crush down, tuck it away and pretend like it doesn’t exist. You can do it because you were doing it before. It’s fine. It has to be.

Steve feels relief wash over him, though it mingles with some sort of worry that even in doing what he thinks is better, he’s still managing to hurt you. Either way, he’s said the words and his decision’s been made.

He can tell you’re biting at the inside of your cheek, a habit of yours he’s noticed. He knows you do it when you’re nervous or upset and his jaw tenses. He steps over to you and hugs you.

Steve rarely hugs you. There was that time when you cooked for him, and that was it. The rarity of the action tells you he means it, it matters. He’s so gentle when he does this time, his arms folding around your shoulders and his chin perching itself on top of your head.

You fall into his hold easily. You think you always will. Your arms go around his waist, cheek pressed against his shirt’s collar. You don’t think you’ve ever hugged a friend like this before.

So softly, quietly. Both of you breathing each other in and hoping the other doesn’t notice, wondering who’s gonna break away first.

Steve tilts his chin to press a kiss against your hair, his lips still against you when he mumbles, “thank you for understanding, honey.”

The pet name reassures you. Nothing has to be different, and you can be okay with that.

“Thanks for being honest. And I’m really glad to know you, too, by the way.”

Reluctantly, you pull back first, looking down at your feet as you do, too scared that your feelings are written all over your face.

“I’ll see you, yeah?” He still sounds nervous, cautious.

“We do live across the hall from each other, so…”

He huffs, it’s a barely-there laugh, but you’ll take it.

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Steve.”

When he leaves and shuts the door behind him, you fall onto your couch, head in your hands and mumbling about how stupid you are, how hopeless.

Steve’s senses can pick up the sound of your voice, the sound of your footsteps, he can pick out some words. Like ‘dummy’ and ‘idiot.’

He mouths the words ‘I’m sorry’ at your door.

He thinks, If whatever he encounters while patrolling tonight doesn’t, Robin’s gonna fucking kill him.

Things were awkward for a bit after that. Not enough to make you want to avoid him, though. He’s not someone you can let go of like that. He’s under your skin and he has no idea.

You’re standing outside his door with the dinner you’ve made him once again. You thought that maybe this would help make things feel normal again. Routine and friendly.

He opens the door quickly after you knock, shaking his head with a smile at the dish in your hands. “I told you, you don’t have to cook for me.”

“I told you I like doing it,” you hand him his food, and despite his protesting, he takes it easily.

Steve was relieved to hear you knocking at his door, relieved to see you with those same strands of hair falling around your face, the same shy smile you wear every time you deliver food.

“Do you wanna stay?” He asks.

“I have to go close at work.”

Steve nods. He knows where he’ll be patrolling tonight, at least.

“Okay. Thanks again.”

“It’s no big deal.”

Maybe not to you, but it is to him. Steve doesn’t want you wasting money or energy on him, but he can’t lie and say that it doesn’t feel nice to have someone care about him the way you do. To have someone actually want to take care of him, even in small ways.

He has Robin, of course he does, but it isn’t the same. He’s not sure his feelings for any person have ever been like his feelings for you.

He wants to do something for you for once, and when you go to turn around and leave, he stops you, “hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you let me cook for you sometime? Let me do it for you for once?”

You feel warm, your heart growing in your chest. “I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow work for you?”

“Tomorrow’s great.”

“Okay,” Steve has no idea what he’ll make, and he’ll definitely have to go grocery shopping, probably—reluctantly—call Robin for advice. That doesn’t stop him from feeling a buzz in his chest ‘cause he’ll get to see you. For longer than a couple of minutes this time.

This time, when you turn around, Steve lets you.

Your shift that night is slow and uneventful. Thankfully, so is your walk home. Even after weeks, you’re checking over your shoulder every so often, glancing up at the buildings in search of a superhero you’ve met once. One who probably meets people like you every day, who probably doesn’t even remember you.

Tomorrow comes quickly, and suddenly, you’re worrying about what to wear. Then, after making a mess of your closet, you’re standing in the hallway knocking on Steve’s door all over again.

For once, he didn’t hear you coming, too focused on making sure everything looked right, that he didn’t seem as nervous as he is. When you knock, he hides the cookbook he’d bought that morning in a cupboard before letting you in.

There’s a strand of hair falling over his forehead. That’s what you notice when you first see him. You stop yourself from reaching up and pushing it back.

“Hey, come in,” he moves aside and shuts the door behind you when you walk in.

“Smells good.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!” You aren’t lying, but you would if you had to. If his cooking was awful, you’d probably have two servings to make him feel good about it.

He’s set up plates at the stools by his island in his kitchen. When he notices you looking there he speaks up, “sorry. I don’t have an actual table.”

You shake your head, “don’t be. Neither do I. You know, ‘cause we live in the same apartments.”

“Right, yeah.”

He gestures for you to sit down, and you do. He brings the food over, putting some on both of your plates before sitting down beside you. His knee brushes yours.

He waits for you to take a bite first, searching your face for a reaction.

“Steve, this is really good.”

He makes a mental reminder to thank Robin for the cookbook recommendation later. Right now, he focuses on the brush of his leg against yours, on the way you laugh softly at his jokes, the way your cardigan falls off your shoulder.

Steve’s eyes are on you so much that you swear you can feel it. You don’t even think he realizes that he’s staring, that he’s leaving a blazing trail wherever his eyes go.

When you look at him, you find his gaze easily, eyes meeting, saying things you couldn’t say out loud. You can't help but feel like this is more than just two friends hanging out. If it was, you probably would’ve gotten take out, and you probably wouldn’t be fighting hard to keep your eyes off of his lips. Especially when he talks.

Not a date, you remind yourself. Just friends.

Steve’s an idiot for thinking he can keep himself at a certain distance from you. He’s an idiot for ignoring his feelings and thinking that because he said you should be friends, they’d go away. It’s clear that they won’t.

He forces his eyes away from you and back down to his food, filling the tension with the first question that comes to mind.

“So, where do you work?” He already knows the answer. He’s jumped across buildings to make sure you get there safe and done the same for your walks home.

“Oh, just this small bookstore. It’s pretty quiet, but I like it there.”

“You like to read, then?” He knows this answer too. There’s a very full bookshelf in your living room.

You nod, finishing your bite of food before replying, “love it. Sometimes, when we have extra stock that isn’t selling, my boss lets me take books home for free.”

He can hear the honesty in your voice, the excitement you get when talking about something that makes you happy. He likes the sound more than he should.

Steve’s about to ask you something else when it happens; the hairs on his neck and arms standing, the goosebumps trailing across his skin, the ringing in his ears. Something’s wrong.

You can see the shift in him. His shoulders tensing, his eyebrows scrunching. You have to say his name three times before he hears you.

“Steve?”

His head snaps over to you, “hm?”

“Is everything okay? I lost you just then.”

“It’s fine,” he drops his fork onto his plate, his hands balled into fists. “I just forgot that I have to do something.”

“What?”

“I have to go. I’m so sorry, you can stay, finish your food. But I really have to go, okay?”

The last thing he wants to do is leave you, but he has to.

“Steve, are you sure everything’s okay?” You put a hand on his shoulder but he flinches away.

“It’s alright. I gotta go,” he stands and snatches his backpack on his way out the door, “I’m sorry, honey.”

And he’s gone.

You don’t finish your food. You’re stuck staring at the door after Steve leaves. It’s obvious that there's something he isn’t telling you, and you wish it didn’t bug you so much.

By the time you’re able to snap out of it, the food’s grown cold. No, you don’t eat it, but you try to occupy yourself by cleaning up the best you can without snooping through his stuff. You take as long as you can, hoping that maybe he'll come back at some point.

He doesn't.

The short walk back to your place is almost robotic, your mind in a haze, legs moving on auto-pilot.

You’ve always known that Steve hasn’t told you very much about his life. It's been clear in the way he distanced himself from you for so long, in how he likes to ask more questions, let you talk more. Still, you worry that it’s bigger than you ever thought.

You worry that out of all the seemingly impossible things you’ve wondered about what could be happening to him when seeing him injured, one of them is true.

It's worse because you like him so much. You care more than you ever should for someone that you don’t know all that well. You think you knew him best when he kissed you, when he wasn’t talking with his voice at all.

It was unguarded, like something had snapped, frayed enough to let his feelings seep through. You’d like to know him like that again. Just friends.

You sigh and head to your room to change out of the outfit you’d spent so much time choosing. Then, you do your skincare. Your apartment is completely silent, but your head is a roaring mess of noise. You finish up in minutes, though you feel like it's been longer.

It’s too early for you to go to bed, and you know you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you tried, so you head to your living room and sit on the couch, your knees tucked up to your chest.

You grab the remote and switch on the news, needing something to fill up the silence, to drown out your thoughts.

The headline on the bottom of the screen is what you notice first. The mention of Spider-man.

You rest your chin on your knees and stare at the screen, the rushed footage of that red and blue suit swinging across buildings. The screaming in your head of SteveSteveSteve fades to whispers.

You remember the sound of those webs that hold him up, the air that rushed through your hair and against your skin when he swung you home. You remember the feeling of his suit under your hands and the way the white eyes of his mask were expressive despite being fake.

It feels wrong to think about Spider-man as often as you do while wanting to be around Steve so much. It’s just curiosity, you tell yourself. He saved me and I can’t forget about it.

You’ve been subconsciously searching for him all over the place. Your walks home, the front pages of papers at newsstands. You look for his face—mask, really—and you don’t always realize what you're doing.

Still, when the segment about the hero ends, Steve floods back into your mind. Just like he always does.

He’s growing all over you, vines of ivy stringing across your being just a bit more every time you see him. You’ve never really felt that way, never had someone that you wanted to let so close. It hasn’t been long, but he knows you better than most people do.

You huff and get up to grab one of your books. You hope that the words on pages you use to escape so often will work the same way this time.

It’s late when Steve gets home, completely dark, completely quiet.

He climbs in through his window and showers like always when he finishes a patrol. He hates how he had been hoping to see you when he walked into his kitchen.

Instead, he sees that you cleaned up a lot of the dishes, that you were kind enough to do that even when he left the way he did. It sends a ping of something he has to ignore to his heart, a squeeze, an ache.

He doesn’t know how he’ll explain himself to you, because he doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the truth, either.

It’s completely fucked. He’s fucked.

Steve never really explained himself, and you sort of just accepted that. He’s not obligated to share every bit of his life with you, as much as you want him to. You want to be the person he’s completely himself with.

It’s selfish, and it’s absolutely not going to happen.

Things go back to normal. Well, as normal as they have been since the kiss. Rather than making him dinner, you and Steve take turns and have a meal together once a week. He’s finally convinced you to stop buying extra food just for him.

He’s even made a habit of visiting you at work when things aren’t too busy, and with every passing day, any lingering upset or concerns you had about his hasty exit that day seem to melt away.

He’s human, he has secrets, and you can only hope that they aren’t anything that’s hurting him.

The way that you seem to let things go unanswered with him make your feelings clear. You more than like him, you want to plant yourself on him the way he has on you, to be something to him.

Steve’s been trying again and again to keep himself away from you in a sense. To be platonic and be okay with that, but he’s smart enough to know that the hold you have over him is so much more.

He has no idea how you don’t see it all over him, but he figures it might be for the best. If he can’t hide it, at least you can be blind to it.

Today’s another quiet day at the bookstore. Business seems to be slowing more and more in the independent shop, and though you love the quiet, you’d hate to lose the place. The smell of the books and their pages, the section of used books with enough character to fill the space.

The first eventful part of your day so far has been the phone ringing, and you pick it up quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hey, honey,” it’s Steve, just like you’d hoped. “You busy?”

“Not at all.”

“Hungry?”

Somehow, his voice sounds even better over the phone. The crackle of it in the speakers, the way that it’s all you have to focus on since you can’t see him at the moment. It has a bigger presence.

“I could eat,” you say.

“That’s great, ‘cause I already ordered the food.”

“Steeeve.”

He can almost hear the smile in your voice, and if he shuts his eyes tight enough, he can see it, too. The shyness behind it, the way your shoulder will lift to your cheek. It’s cute.

“You don’t mind if I stop by, do you?” He asks, like it’s even a question.

“You’d show up no matter what I said.”

“But…”

“You know I don’t mind. You’ll be my first customer of the day!”

“What an honor,” there’s silence for a moment, and you can hear each other breathing on the other line. “I’ll see you in a few, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

The phone’s hung up with a click.

In the time it takes Steve to walk (swing, but you don’t know that) over, you walk around and tidy up anything that’s out of place. You do this every time he calls to ask if it’s alright that he visits, trying to make the minutes go by faster.

You’re straightening books on the front display table when the bell above the door jingles, and soon after, a wide hand covering your eyes.

“Guess who.”

“Hmmm, let me think. Spider-man?”

You’re clearly joking, but Steve’s stunned. If you listen close enough, you can hear his sharp intake of breath at your reply. She doesn’t know, he convinces himself. She doesn’t know, shake it off.

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

Steve takes his hand away from your face and sets the paper takeout bag on the front counter next to the register, the bag crinkling as he opens it.

“Mmm,” you hum, looking at the spread of what he’s brought you. “You’re the best.”

He likes being called the best by you, and he likes the feeling he gets when he hears it. Like he’s someone important, someone good.

“Yeah, well. I’ve gotta make up for all of the meals you’ve made me.”

He always says that, and you always tell him the same things. “You don’t owe me anything, Steve.”

He absolutely does. He owes you so much. For the food you’ve made him, for patching him up and never pushing the subject, for being the person you are and bringing out the person he hasn’t been in a long, long time.

He won’t tell you that, though, so he just shakes his head. “Dig in.”

You do, and so does he, the white, cardboard containers spread across the counter. You talk between bites of food, the easy kind of conversation that isn’t very common, especially for someone like you.

You don’t have people, really. Steve is the someone you do have.

He asks you about the book you have sitting on the counter, and he listens to everything you say like he really cares. You bond over the poor water pressure in your showers, and you laugh at Steve’s impression of your landlord. It’s your favorite kind of lunch break.

Your shifts usually feel slow, but when Steve shows up, time flies by. Before you know it, you’re stacking the empty boxes and tossing them in the garbage.

“Thanks for the food, Steve.”

“‘Course.” He’s about to say something else when it happens again.

The tingling over his skin, the goosebumps spreading all over, his hairs standing up. He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, forgetting that you’re there to see him do it, focusing on his senses and where he has to go.

“Steve?”

Shit. He has to leave again. At least he made it through the meal this time. That’s something.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Perfect, yeah. Just, um, a headache.”

You don’t look convinced, but like you so often do, you drop it. Steve doesn’t know why you let him get away with so much, and he feels awful for it. He’ll tell you one day, maybe, when it’s safe. Just not today.

“I have some water, here,” you go to grab it but he stops you.

“That’s okay, honey. I think I’ll just head home.”

“Okay.”

“Have a good rest of your shift, okay?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

He grabs his backpack and heads out the door. You wait for him to be a few steps away and then you peek out the door, eyes following his figure on the sidewalk.

You see him break into a run before turning into an alleyway. You’re confused all over again.

Steve really wasn’t expecting it to be so bad this time, especially considering the fact that the sun’s still up.

He’d changed into his suit in that alley you saw him run into, hiding behind a dumpster and swinging off as quick as he could when he was done. He should’ve guessed it’d be serious by how strong his senses came on. Should’ve seen it coming.

He was a little busy thinking about you.

But then he saw what was going on and forced himself to focus. There was a group, maybe five, six people, who'd made some sort of enhanced weapons using electricity, and his superpowers, as great as they are, don’t protect him from the shocks those things could cause.

Not to mention how outnumbered he was. He knew this one could take a while. First, he focused on getting anyone in danger out of there, clearing the area until it was just him, the people with the weapons, and news reporters stupid enough to stay on scene.

He had to be smart for this one, so he used heights to his advantage, staying above them all while tracking them quickly. Steve also made sure they didn’t start heading in the direction of the bookstore, your bookstore.

The first two were easy to get, the ones that fell behind their group. Steve was able to web them up without getting too close.

It gets tougher after that. The others seem smarter, strategic, and he had to be better than them to make it stop. He takes a second to hide from them, closing his eyes and really letting his senses do the work.

When he opens his eyes again, things move in a blur.

He’s flipping and ducking, narrowly avoiding their shots, running harder than he has in a while. It’s the type of day that’ll leave him sore in the morning, he knows that for sure. Before he really processes it, there’s only two guys left to catch.

There’s a wake of broken and burning things behind them, but Steve can’t stop to fix anything until this is taken care of, so he doesn’t even look back.

Just as he tries to web one of them, they shoot at him, and the electric current collides with his web, sending a shock up his arm. A zap so quick, he couldn’t see it coming. He’s distracted from it, his hand shaky and it makes things harder.

After some swinging and punching, he manages to get one guy. In the midst of it, he’s lost the other one. At least, until he feels a spark of pain in his side. The electricity was focused enough to leave a welt on his skin, one he can already feel developing.

He’s too late to avoid the second hit when he spots the guy, ducked behind a dumpster, peeking out like a sniper. The same side is hit, and he knows another mark will prove that.

Steve has to rush around the corner to get out of sight and recover for a moment, a hand—shaking and sweaty in his glove—coming to hover over the burn marks on his suit.

“Fuck,” he breathes. The pain is sharp and hot, the kind that doesn’t go away until it’s taken care of. “Okay. Get the guy, and go. It’s fine.”

He grunts when he stands straight again, another noise escaping him when he shoots a web and swings around the corner back to the alley. The last guy is still by the dumpster, and Steve lets go of his web and lands close enough to knock him off balance.

The guy must panic, because he pulls the trigger on Steve and manages to nick his side a third time. From this close, the current is only amplified. Steve’s knocked to the side, but he manages to stay upright.

Get him, and go home. Do it. He has to push himself, and it has to be enough to finish the job. When he realizes that he’s closer to the bookstore than he was before, he clenches his fists and punches the man hard enough that he falls to the ground.

Steve webs his there, and then he slumps against the wall of the alleyway, his side burning, his breathing short. He has to get home.

He breathes out a deep breath and stands, shooting his first web and gritting his teeth as he goes up with it. He swings by news anchors and finds it in himself to mumble, “fucking idiots,” at them.

By the time he gets inside his apartment via the window, it’s dark outside, and he doesn’t know how long he spent wrangling that group. He’s a mess of panting and sweating, his suit scorched and his skin an ugly color.

He takes a cool shower and throws on a thin shirt and the first pair of sweatpants he finds. He has to sit on his bed for a solid ten minutes to make sure he doesn’t pass out the next time he stands.

But when he does get up, he heads to his door like the absolute idiot he is. He heads into the hall to find you.

You stand up quick enough to get a head rush when he knocks on your door. You know it’s him, that’s not the question going through your head. No, you’re wondering if he’s okay.

Your heart’s already racing when you open the door. It gets quicker when you see him.

“Steve?” Your eyes flicker all over his face, searching for blood or bruising. Anything at all. “You okay?”

Steve’s eyes are bloodshot, his forehead damp with sweat and the droplets of water falling from his hair. Even so, all he tells you is: “I just wanted to make sure you-” his face scrunches, he pants between his words “-you got home okay.”

“I’m good. I’m alright,” you say, though it’s obvious since you’re standing right in front of him. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.” He holds up his arm in a weak thumbs up and winces with the movement. You aren’t fooled in the slightest.

“No, you’re not. Get inside and let me help you.”

“Honey-”

You grab his hand gently, your fingers wrapped around his. You can feel him shaking as you tug him inside and shut the door. “Come on.”

He doesn’t really have it in him to argue with you, and as much as he shouldn’t, he wants to be around you, to hurt less because of your comfort and your soft touch.

Steve lets you lead him into your bathroom once more, watches as you bend down to grab the first-aid kit from the cabinet under your sink. He still has the bandages you gave him, and he’s lucky he won’t need them now since he’s not bleeding. He didn’t bring them with him.

You guide him to stand in front of the counter where the light is best and reach for his face, your hands holding his cheeks and tilting him down to you. His hands grasp your wrists, like an instinct.

There’s guilt in his eyes that you try to ignore. A frown tugs between your brows, at the corners of your lips.

“You look a little pale. What happened?”

“I can’t- I can’t tell you that right now.”

You push his hair away from his forehead before pulling your hands away. You bite the inside of your cheek and nod. You’re more worried about him right now; you can worry about whatever happened later.

Steve goes to lean against the counter. He grunts when his back hits it, his hand covering his side in reflex. You catch it.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Wha-”

“You’re hurt, Steve. I can tell. Let me see it.”

“I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that and let me see. Please.”

He blows out a slow breath and reaches for the hem of his shirt, because he knows you won’t let it go until he shows you. Taking his shirt off is uncomfortable, and he makes quiet sounds to prove it. He keeps his eyes cast onto the floor when he tosses his shirt aside.

You look down slowly, your eyes passing down his neck and chest first, then lingering on his stomach for a second too long. You’d never expect him to be built the way he is, lines of muscle under his skin.

You can’t focus on that for long, not when you notice the three welts on his side. There’s already bruising, shades of purple and green spreading, outlined in redness.

You swear you can feel something crack in your chest, the sadness that seeps into your eyes in the form of tears along your waterline. “Oh my god.”

He hates the way your voice sounds, the way your expression shows how worried you are for him. He hates that someone like you is so concerned about him.

“It looks worse than it is.”

“Steve.”

You kneel on the tiles in front of him to get a closer look. Your hands hover over the marks, too afraid to touch him, too afraid to hurt him even more.

Steve’s shaky hands grab yours, squeezing your fingers like he’s reminding you he’s okay, he’s alive enough to do that. You don’t look at his face, but he can’t look away from yours.

“What can I do to help?” You ask.

“You’re doing more than enough,” he says quietly, his voice a low hum in the air. “They’ll go away.”

Who could possibly be hurting him? This boy with soft eyes and a kindness even the highest of walls couldn’t keep hidden.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

You lean forward and peck the skin of his stomach, just beside the bruises. You’re not thinking about the consequences when you do it, you’re only thinking about how much pain he must keep hidden from everyone. About how much you’d do to make it go away.

Steve doesn’t know whether to cry or kiss you stupid for it. He settles on tugging you up to stand with his grip on your hands and leaning his forehead against yours. He’s not thinking about the consequences, either.

“Don’t you dare be sorry. Not you.”

“You’re hurting.”

“And you have nothing to do with that. If anything, you do the opposite.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to stop any tears from escaping.

“Will you stay for a bit?”

No, there’s absolutely no thinking about the consequences when you’re this close, when your hands are in his. There’s no thinking when Steve agrees.

“Yeah, honey. I’ll stay.”

You nod and breathe in, catching the scent of his body wash, and pull away. You have to force yourself to let go of him and move out of his way so he can put his shirt back on.

Steve has to stop himself from reaching for you when you step away. Instead, he tries not to wince again when he picks up his shirt and pulls it on.

He follows you out into the living room, sits beside you on the couch and leaves distance between you. He observes you as you pick out a movie to put on, thanks you when you toss him a blanket.

He feels warm all over at the way you seem to take care of him without thinking. It spreads from his chest and expands and expands and expands until it’s everywhere from his head to his toes.

Somehow, you end up with Steve’s head in your lap.

The inches separating you and him on the couch grew shorter and shorter as you spoke until your thighs touched. You both acted like you didn’t notice.

Then, the further you got into the movie, the quieter you both became. So quiet that you hadn’t noticed how tired Steve was until you felt his head drop against your shoulder. You were barely able to smile at the action before he jerked himself upright.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re tired.”

“You must be, too.”

You shake your head, “not really. You should lay down.”

“I can just go,” he said, like that’s what you’d prefer.

“I’ve got a comfy lap, promise.”

Steve blames his tiredness and the haze of it all for agreeing and laying on his side, his cheek against the top of your thigh.

He’d never say it out loud, but he does feel really comfortable in the moment. He almost forgets about the bruising on his side. It takes a lot for him not to wrap his arms around you then.

“You can sleep if you want to,” you say, noticing the way his eyes blink heavily.

“Then you’ll be stuck here.”

That wouldn’t be so bad, you think. “I’ll go to bed when I want to. I’ll be sneaky, you won’t even notice.”

“As long as you wake me up if you have to.”

“Sure I will.”

Steve knows you absolutely won’t—he knows you’d rather fall asleep where you’re sitting and risk a sore neck than disturb him, because that’s who you are—but he doesn’t call you on it. Instead, he shuts his eyes and lets the comfort of your apartment, of you, put him to sleep.

You look down at him after a bit, and you notice his even breaths, the pout on his mouth as he sleeps. Softly, you run your fingers through his hair, pulling apart the tangles gently.

Without thinking, you keep doing it until the movie ends. You still aren’t tired, and you really don’t want to wake him up, so you grab your remote and switch it to the news.

They’re talking about Spider-man, you realize. They talk about him a lot.

“Today, a group of criminals with illegally enhanced weapons were taken down by none other than our city’s masked hero, Spider-man.”

The anchor talks in that classic news lady voice, one that would usually have you turning down the volume, but where Spider-man’s involved, you’re inclined to listen.

“We have some witness clips here, where you can see him in action.”

The screen switches to show a video that was taken on a bystander’s phone, the footage shaky, the witness dumb enough to stand there and film rather than run.

You can see Spider-man fighting someone, can see the quick flashes of webbing as well as the opponent’s weapon shooting. You can see how quick he is, the way his reflexes work. You think about what it was like to see it with your own eyes.

Then, it cuts to a new video, where he seems to be swinging away from the scene, but towards the camera. The anchor says something that makes your ears ring.

“It looks like there are some burn marks on his suit where Spider-man was hit. Three on his side, I’m being told.”

Three marks. On his side.

It has to be a coincidence that Steve showed up to your door after the whole Spider-man thing had happened with the exact same injuries, right?

Then, what if it isn’t? What if this is why he’s been getting hurt all this time?

You think about every interaction with Steve you’ve had. The day you met, when he carried your boxes without breaking a sweat. The way he tried so hard to isolate himself from you, the lack of details he shares about his life. The injuries he’s come to you with, the scars you’ve noticed but haven’t mentioned.

And most recently, the way he’s left in a hurry after zoning out for a minute.

You think your heartbeat might be loud enough to wake Steve up.

Steve.

You look down at his face, at the delicate skin under his eyes, at the way his eyelashes rest there in his sleep. You look down at this boy, asleep in your lap, and realize that he’s carrying all that weight by himself.

If you’re right about this, about him being Spider-man, you think he deserves even more than what you give him. More than the dinners and the company, more than the friendship. He deserves to be hugged, to be told how strong he is.

Fuck, you need to thank him, if you’re right. Because he’s the one who saved you, the one who brought you home and made sure you got inside, the one who reminded you to take care of your wrist.

Holy shit. That realization makes your head spin.

“Who are you, Steve?” You whisper. He can’t hear you, he’s fast asleep, but you ask anyway.

When you finally manage to lift his head from your lap and get up, shutting off the TV as you do, you head to your bedroom. You lay on your back on top of your sheets and stare at the ceiling.

You don’t sleep very much that night.

Cooking has become something to do to keep you busy, to take your mind off things. So, when you’re sure you’re not getting any more sleep, it feels natural to head to the kitchen and start making breakfast.

You move about your small kitchen as quietly as you can, the presence of the boy asleep on your couch something hard to ignore. The boy you’re pretty sure is Spider-man, the boy you more than like.

Despite Steve’s enhanced hearing, he doesn’t wake up due to any noise. No, for the first time in a long time, he blinks his eyes open slowly and lets the sunlight seeping through the window get him up. He stretches before standing up from your couch.

There’s a stiff ache in his side, which isn’t surprising, but it still has him cursing under his breath at the reminder of yesterday.

His voice makes you peek over your shoulder at him. “Good morning.”

Steve rubs his eyes and looks over at you standing by the stove. He has to rub them again to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

He walks over and leans against the counter next to where you cook. “Hi. Thanks for letting me stay.”

You give him a quick smile, a sunbeam.

You’ve decided to try and act normal with him, act like you don’t know this huge piece of information. He deserves the space to tell you in his own time. That is, if he’ll ever tell you at all.

“Yeah. You feel okay?”

“Bit sore. It’ll go away.”

“I doubt my cheap couch helped with that.”

“It helped.”

He sounds so sure about that, like it was the best sleep he could’ve gotten.

“Are you hungry?” You ask. You’ve already cooked enough for him, too.

“I don’t want to overstay or anything.”

“Steve, I’m offering. I’d like it if you stayed for breakfast.”

His stomach growls before he’s able to reply. You both laugh softly, you amused, him embarrassed. “Guess that’s a yes.”

Steve acts the same as he usually does as you eat, keeping conversations steered towards you, pretending like there aren’t bruises under his shirt as you speak. He seems to forget the powers that he has, the persona that’s a kept secret.

He wants to thank you over and over, to apologize to you over and over, to tell you all of the things he swore he couldn’t feel for you. He wants to tell you so much, but he’s scared—not nearly as brave as he is when he has his mask on—and he can’t get anything out.

Steve just wishes he could put into words exactly what you do for him, how unfair he knows it is to ask of you, how much it means that you help him regardless.

Instead of doing any of that, he eats the food you cook and shares more smiles with you than he does with anyone.

You watch as he takes his empty plate and rinses it off for you, the way his t-shirt is a bit tighter across his upper back, the set of his shoulders. Those shoulders that carry so much all by himself.

You’re frowning before you can help it. Not because he hasn’t told you, you can understand that, but because he must be so convinced that he’s better off doing it all alone.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You cook too many meals for me.” He lingers by your door, rocking on his feet like he’s not sure where to go.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Steve’s expression shifts in the smallest way when you ask. He can’t wrap his head around someone caring about him—besides Robin—to ask so often.

“I’m okay.”

Before you can really think about it you walk up to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You squeeze him as tight as you can while being mindful not to hurt him. Your face is tucked into the side of his neck, and he can feel your lips on his skin.

His arms seem to move before he’s aware of it, hugging you back around your waist, squeezing you just as tight. He needed this, he thinks, and somehow, you knew he did.

“I really care about you, Steve.”

He rests his chin on your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, shutting his eyes to try and capture how it feels to be held by you, to hold you.

“Me too, honey.”

/ᐠ(๏‸��)ᐟ\

thank u for reading!! if u enjoyed, please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think!!! it helps more than you’d think <3

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frostiwars · 4 months ago

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let's pretend i live on the west coast and it's still DAY 5: AU!!

do you think we're gay in every universe?

in which i turn insane and draw 5 different drawings for one prompt. and as a result, the rendering is a lot rougher, but oh well! i hope the designs are fun enough!!

GORE WARNING!!!!! and design ramblings under the cut

Role Swap: i referenced hanyuu from higurashi for king metata because, while dedede has no idea about how to properly dress in traditional voidborn-based royalty attire (because his parents never taught him), metata wears EVEN MORE traditional garb, fancified, and a tiara rather than a crown cap. instead of hiding his wings in his cape, he hides them in his silk scarf. i didn’t even have to change his hime cut. he’s still cocky and arrogant but less traumatized so he’s less serious and more haughty. also his bow tying his hakama is shaped like an M haha. meanwhile, knight dede is far more armored, aiming for bulk over dps, and of course his armor has his classic triangular patterning all over the place. instead of the jaw scar, his eyes are clawed over. i wonder how that happened...

Species Swap: voidborn dedede is shorty mcshort short, even shorter than regular meta. he’s so short he doesn’t even wear hakama cuz he’d just trip over them, so he sticks with just a kimono and obi (once again adding to the androgyny common in most voidborn designs). his geta are less bulky as well. it’s not seen fully because his wings are out but his cloak goes all the way to his ankles instead of his knees. additionally, his wings have a blue gradient that matches the new color of his robe. his hammer is more embellished, like if galaxia was a giant mallet instead of a sword. and to keep with the ‘circular’ feeling for the hair common to my puffball gijinkas, i gave him kinda croissanty hair. meanwhile, avian meta has eschewed much of his armor for the sake of piercing and aerodynamics. he’s much lighter and his sleeves flow out to make room for the wings he can spawn on his arms. and of course his hair is slicked back and feathery like Coo and Vul. even his mask has a few more spikes to imitate bird talons.

dedede is a negatively-to-neutrally charged voidborn. i talked with my sibling @clutzicone-dts and they suggested denial as a birth emotion. i also like @moonmacabre01's idea of using regret. very fitting for a redeemable character

Gender Swap: normal dedede wears his garb in a feminine fashion, wearing the kimono over the hakama, so fem dedede does it in reverse, tucking the kimono inside the hakama. different sandals again, and wearing just the crown while eschewing the cap, mostly so i can have her long flowing braids more visible. at least she has a top knot to resemble the pom pom tho. meta meanwhile is largely unchanged physically (duh, voidborns don't have physical sex) with outfit adjustments. she keeps some design aspects from her younger days to distinguish her from normal meta while still seeming in character. tassels on the shoulder pads, and a hood on the cape instead of the frill. plus her lower body armor is longer and more decorated to give the illusion of a skirt without actually being one and i gave her low double buns to keep the round hair shape without just leaving it as a bowl cut

Mirror Versions: i have a whole ass complicated headcanon for the mirror dimension. i think it would be best described that, in this gijinkaverse, the mirror dimension is less an alternate universe and more an alternate timeline that went wrong at a very specific point. it's led to shadow dedede being much more... in tune, let's say, with the dark matter blade within his heart. and dameta isn't very pleased about that. after all, the two never got the chance to reconcile over Meta Knight's Revenge before things went to shit in that world. so they have a very complicated, somewhat tragic relationship. but i can talk about that more another time. let's just say that all of this is why i made certain slight changes to the two's designs. but i also gave dameta striped legs because stripes are for evil people

Bad Ending:

no spoilers. feel free to theorize about it. i'm sure there are plenty of clues to let you figure it out on your own.

#my art #fanart #art #digital art #kirby #king dedede #meta knight #dark matter swordsman #shadow dedede #dark meta knight #metadede #mtddweek2024

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lxveuntold · 1 year ago

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passionate | hhj (m)

summary: your greatest rival might actually be exactly right for you.

pairing: hyunjin x fem reader

genre: mafia!au, enemies to lovers, smut

word count: 6k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: profanity; smoking; explicit violence; vague/brief mention of systemic corruption; bantering; graphic sexual content; fingering; face sitting; unprotected penetrative sex; creampie

author’s note: i’ve wanted to write red-haired hyunjin for soooo long. hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

The airplane has not left the hangar yet. Good.

The three men surrounding the plane are clearly not happy to see your black SUV pulling across their runway. Especially the tall redhead.

Good.

Chris rolls the car to a smooth stop. The passive-aggressive hostilities start as soon as you both step out of it.

“It must be really serious if you came all the way out here to see me personally, Y/N,” says Hwang Hyunjin, the red-headed ringleader of the little trio. If you didn’t know better, you would think he sounds more amused than wary.

You take one last drag off your cigarette, sigh the smoke into the breeze, crush the butt on the concrete with the toe of your shoe. Your bodyguard stands to the side, hands folded neatly in front of him, calm and silent.

“You’re the one flying out of the country in the middle of the night, Hwang,” you say, practically spitting his name from your mouth.

“I’m not—”

You cut off whatever bullshit he’s about to spew with a wave of your hand. “One of your idiots intercepted one of my shipments the other day,” you say, cutting to the chase.

The idiot in question — a dark-haired young man with soulless dark eyes — does not look to Hyunjin for his reaction. The third man — blond and freckled — does not take his eyes off you, either. They are not worried, which means their boss already knew about this. Maybe even ordered it himself.

Fucking jackass.

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. “So it was an hour or two late, who gives a shit? You got it eventually, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, minus two cases of ammo. I’m going to need those back.”

His lips twitch. “Hm, now you’ve lost me. I don’t know anything about that.”

“Is that so?” You crack your neck on both sides. “I suggest you keep the fuck up, Hwang.”

Chris moves, grabbing and firing his gun with practiced speed and precision. The dark-haired man grunts and falls hard to his knees, courtesy of the new hole in his right leg.

The idiot blond reaches for his own gun to return fire, but he is too slow, and Hyunjin brings his arm up to stop him. His refusal to let his man retaliate tugs at something inside you. The look on his face, the murderous glare he gives his own man…

You shake your head, refusing to let those thoughts linger.

“You have until seven A.M. to give my shit back,” you say, slipping back into the passenger’s seat of your car, “or else Chris is blowing up your fucking plane.”

---

It is six fifty-six in the morning when the doorbell rings. Chris, already fully dressed, opens the door to reveal your one and only red-haired pain-in-the-ass.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks straight away.

Chris answers with a question of his own: “Where’s her stolen ammo?”

Hyunjin scoffs, eyes crawling critically over the shorter man. “I’m not giving shit to a lackey. Move.”

“It’s fine, Chris, let him in,” you call out, tying your robe shut as you come hurrying down the staircase. The bottom of your silky robe sweeps across the floor.

Chris has barely stepped aside before Hyunjin is pushing past him, knocking his arm into the other man’s shoulder. Chris calmly shuts the door and puts himself between it and your unwanted yet expected guest.

Hyunjin is not paying him any attention anymore, however. His eyes are now raking over your slightly disheveled form, and there is an annoying smirk playing on his lips.

“Tell me something, Y/N,” he starts. “Do you still keep your gun strapped while you’re wearing that?”

You come to a stop a few feet in front of him and hug your arms under your cleavage. “I’ll show you my strap if you brought me my shit,” you tell him.

He tilts his head and lets his sly smile take full form on his plump lips. Then he looks to the side, combs his fingers through his dyed hair and says, “Felix is waiting in the car with your missing ammo.”

“Stolen ammo,” you correct. “Tell him to leave it in the driveway.”

“What, afraid I’ve rigged it or something?”

“Can’t ever be too careful with you, Hwang.”

He takes a step closer, then another. Behind him, you see Chris shift his weight. You look straight into Hyunjin’s green eyes and wait for him to speak.

He leans in close and says, “You’re the one who opened fire last night, sweetheart.”

You lean in closer, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear as you whisper, “That’s exactly why I’m expecting a trap.”

“Minho is fine, by the way,” he adds, as if you cared. When you say nothing, he continues, “All that for a couple cases of ammo? You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

“Wouldn’t have happened if you’d stayed on your side of the goddamn city.” Dropping your voice lower, you breathe, “Leave my shit in the driveway, then get the fuck out of my house, Hyunjin.”

He turns his face, and you swear you can feel his grin just from his breath. “Fucking love it when you say my name,” he whispers, practically moaning. His soft lips brush across your cheek, but it isn’t quite a proper kiss. Your breath hangs suspended in your chest.

He pulls away and gestures for Chris to move. When he steps outside, Chris watches from the doorway until you eventually see Felix back the familiar, vibrant blue sports car down the driveway and pull off.

Finally, you relax your tense muscles. “Son of a bitch,” you sigh under your breath.

Chris steps outside to retrieve your goods.

---

Sunday brunches with Jisung are a sacred thing. You know that. He does not have to remind you of it every time you’re late, but he does anyway.

“Well, well, well,” he tuts. “I was starting to wonder if little miss workaholic remembered where she carved out the couple hours for her bestie in between the other hundred and sixty-eight hours of the week.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry,” you mutter, yanking your sunglasses off your face and dropping them onto the table.

“What took you so long this time?” he asks. Three quarters of his mimosa is gone. “Wait, don’t tell me. Work, of course. Drinks are on you today.”

You gesture for him to hand you his menu. “I said I’m sorry.”

He sighs. “No, I’m sorry, it’s fine. Really.” He stares across the restaurant where Chris is negotiating with a family to give up their table so he can have it. “Why doesn’t he ever sit with us?” Jisung asks.

“He’s working,” you say flatly, scanning the menu quickly, even though you are ninety-nine percent sure you will order the same thing as always.

“He’s not a service dog,” Jisung says.

“Did I say that? Have you ordered already?”

“Just my drink— Oh, here comes the waiter.”

The two of you put in your usual orders — including another drink for Jisung on you — and the waiter whisks away again.

“So what was your super duper important work business?”

“I just had to oversee something across town. Hwang and I have been discussing some new borders.”

Jisung hums. “Does that mean you two have been getting along?”

You snort. “I wouldn’t go that far. He’s still as insufferable as ever.”

“Are you sure there isn’t a different kind of tension between you two? Like, of the sexual variety, maybe?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not going to fuck him.”

“But there is tension?” Jisung presses, big brown eyes shining playfully.

“There’s tension alright, but not that kind.”

Jisung sighs. “Whatever you say, Y/N. Have you been dating anyone else lately? What about your broody friend over there? Ever hook up with him?”

You look over to Chris. Of course he was successful in securing the table with the best view of all the exits and all the people in the place. He always is.

You lean forward on the table and ask, “Why are you so interested in my love life today?”

“Because I get the feeling it’s in shambles,” Jisung states plainly.

“Wow, thanks.”

He gives you a tight smile. “Okay, maybe ‘shambles’ was harsh. What I should say is… nonexistent?”

“Wow. Thanks again, dick. You know what, I don’t think I have a couple hours to spare for you this week after all. I think I’d rather go back across town and argue with Hwang some more.”

Chris looks over at the sound of your harsh tone, but when he sees you and your friend smiling at each other, he goes back to surveying the rest of the building.

“Tell me I’m wrong!” Jisung says, laughing.

You roll your eyes and scratch at your wrist. “No, you’re not wrong,” you admit. “There’s just… no time for all that. Besides, you know getting involved with me isn’t the smartest thing in the world.”

“Safest thing, you mean,” he says, reaching across the table for your hand. “But it’s all right, babe. That’s exactly why someone like Hwang would be—”

“Don’t say it.”

He lets go of you, raising his hand innocently. “If you already know what I was going to say, maybe you’ve been thinking it, too.”

There’s really no point denying it and lying to your best friend. “Yeah, maybe,” you say, looking away.

“And that’s fine, Y/N. It’s okay to be attracted to him. It’s okay to act on that attraction. Even if your life is dangerous, you can still date someone. Especially someone with the same lifestyle who could end up being a good fit for you.”

He probably isn’t wrong about that, either. When Jisung is wise, he’s very wise.

You smile at him. “And give up Sunday brunches with you? No way.”

He snorts. “Did I say that? Although, if you did start dating someone — not gonna name names or anything, but hypothetically, maybe someone with red hair and a killer smile? — then maybe I’d be willing to cut back to every other Sunday. Just saying. I’d be willing to make that sacrifice for the sake of your love life.”

Sometimes you think you only have Jisung in this world, but with his support, maybe you could have more.

---

After hugging and bidding your dearest friend goodbye, Chris starts to steer you toward the car, but you decide the day is too nice to head straight home. After your little pep talk with Jisung, you’re in the mood to just enjoy.

But the enjoyment is over before it even begins.

Chris does not argue when you start walking down the sidewalk toward the shops, but he does hurry to shove you behind him when a white sedan with heavily tinted windows pulls up. The passenger window slides down just far enough to fit the barrel of a gun.

You hear the muted shot. Your bodyguard grunts at the impact but remains on his feet. There is not a second shot. The unfamiliar vehicle is already peeling down the street, illegally weaving through traffic to make its getaway and dodge any potential return-fire. You’re too worried about your dutiful bodyguard to even think of shooting back, though.

“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing Chris to spin him around. The hole in his shoulder is leaking crimson through his shirt. “Keep some pressure on that. I’m driving.”

Again, he does not argue.

At the hospital, you pull some strings to get him seen immediately. The bullet is extracted, the wound is cleaned and dressed, and Chris’s arm is put in a sling.

Before the PA leaves to send a prescription for a pain med off to the pharmacy, you slip her some money to keep this incident from being reported to the authorities. She’s new, so she hesitates to take it, almost too righteous for her own good. Eventually she caves. They all learn sooner or later it is always better not to fight you on these things.

---

Across town, Hyunjin is trembling with rage.

“Who the fuck did this?”

Both the blond and the dark-haired men stare ahead, somewhere past their boss.

“So help me god, speak up!” Hyunjin shouts.

The dark-haired man still refuses to meet his eyes. The blond steps forward, only to immediately be met with a resounding backhand to his cheek. His head swivels far around his neck, but he does not stumble.

“You fucking idiot,” Hyunjin fumes. He grabs the shorter man’s face, digs his fingers hard into the freckled cheeks. “I ought to put a bullet through your fucking skull for this. You don’t fucking touch her—”

“We didn’t—” Minho starts.

Nostrils flaring, Hyunjin grits coldly, “Oh, now you want to explain? Keep your fucking mouth shut or I’m shooting you in your good leg.”

He takes Minho’s ensuing silence for understanding and submission.

He turns back to Felix, intensifies his crushing grip on his pretty face and continues, “Don’t you ever cross the border and presume to carry out my will. Ever. You don’t touch her, you don’t speak to her, you don’t fucking look at her. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir, but we didn’t even—”

“AM I CLEAR?!”

“Yes, sir,” Felix repeats through his forcibly puckered lips.

Hyunjin pats the man’s face none too gently, effectively shoving him away in the process. Then he looks to Minho and says, “You, too. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

The leader of the trio smiles most unkindly. Felix tenses when Hyunjin suddenly snatches his arm, then gasps sharply when his ulna cracks. If he wants to go around shooting people, he’ll have to practice with his off hand now.

“Good,” Hyunjin spits, satisfied for now. He drops the blond man’s broken arm, shoves his shoulder hard. “Now get the fuck out of my sight. Both of you.”

After they are gone, Hyunjin waits a moment, listens, then proceeds to falter. His shoulders bow inward and he sighs shakily. There is a layer of sweat between his back and his shirt, and his heart feels like it’s about to burst from his chest.

Those two actually went to your side of town on a mission to hurt you. They actually could have shot you. They actually could have killed—

“God damnit,” Hyunjin whispers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

After a moment to compose himself and gather his thoughts, he heads out to cross the border himself.

---

Hyunjin expects someone different — someone new and probably temporary — to answer the door this time, but your minion is dutiful to a fault.

Even one-handed, even haggard-looking from a long day, Hyunjin knows the man will not hesitate to incapacitate him if he makes one wrong move.

Sure enough, bitter disdain hardens Chris’s eyes the moment he sees him.

Hyunjin raises his hands. “Listen, I’m sorry. I understand you want to maim me right now, but I’m here to apologize. I’m not even armed.” He opens his jacket, pats down his pockets, shows the other man his empty hands again. “Frisk me if you want. I’m just here to apologize.”

Chris regards him warily. After a long, tense pause, he steps aside to let the taller man in and close the door behind him. Hyunjin follows him into the kitchen and accepts the generous glass of wine he’s offered.

Once they both settle at the table, Hyunjin says, “First, I want you to know that I really am sorry for what happened today. I want you to know that attack was completely unauthorized. My men thought they were settling the score. I told them in no uncertain terms that they were not and their actions were totally unacceptable. Felix’s arm won’t be healing for a while.”

“You injured your own man?”

Both men look up at the sound of your voice.

Hyunjin gets to his feet. “Of course I did,” he says.

“For shooting a rival?” you ask, skeptical.

“For shooting at you.” He takes a slow step toward you. “If he’d actually hit you, Y/N… if he’d actually hurt you, I— fuck, I would’ve thrown him out of a goddamn window.”

You meet his unwavering gaze. He takes another slow step closer.

“Chris,” you say, “you should get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The man takes his cue. You meet his eyes, too, as he passes you. He gives you a small nod and leaves.

You take a breath and a step toward Hyunjin. “What would you have done if that bullet had killed me?” you ask.

Hyunjin visibly swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing hard. “I would’ve burned this stupid fucking city to the ground.”

Such a passionate statement. That’s what he is: passionate.

You wonder how much passion there would be if he kissed you right now.

He already knows what you’re going to do when you launch forward. He meets you with open arms and parted lips. You let out a tiny moan the instant your mouth crashes onto his, and he sighs as he pulls you flush against him by the small of your back.

The chair closest to you crashes to the floor when you kick it away. Hyunjin helps you onto the table, tongue fighting for dominance against yours, long fingers easily untying the sash on your robe. You have a similar goal in mind, shoving his jacket down his arms and hurrying to undo the buttons of his crisp white shirt to reveal the smooth muscles beneath. He opens the flaps of your robe just a second before you can do the same with his shirt.

His immediate reaction to your nearly-nude body is one of awe. His eyes rake up and down hungrily, his plush lips hang separated for a few seconds before he licks them slowly and clears his throat. “Hm. Unless there’s a knife hidden in those skimpy fucking panties, you’re not armed either,” he says.

“I’m going out on a limb here by thinking I’m not actually in danger with you.”

Hyunjin falters for a second at your vulnerability. His smile is much softer when he runs his hands up your bare thighs and says, “I’d never let anyone hurt you, Y/N. Least of all me. You have my word.”

You gulp and nod. “Take me. Please.”

The man does not tease you for sounding so soft and polite for once. He simply braces an arm against your back when you lift your hips off the table, then tugs your underwear down your legs with his other hand.

Once your pussy is exposed, Hyunjin sucks two fingers into his mouth, then brings them down to smear his spit against your folds. He does it again, sucks his fingers and brings them down, this time prodding those fingers into your opening to wet the inside, too. He curls his fingers a few times, too briefly connecting with that perfect spot before his fingers are gone again. The preparation is rushed, but you don’t mind, especially when he yanks his cock out of his pants and you see how hard it is for you already.

He tugs your bottom half closer to the edge of the table, then brings the ruddy head of his erection to your pussy and pushes in. The desperation and lack of foreplay is hot, but your body has yet to catch up to your brain, so the stretch stings more than it should, and you can’t help but hiss about when he tries to shove in another inch so soon.

After a few dry pushes and pulls, Hyunjin sighs and pulls all the way out.

“No, Hyunjin, what—” you whine, reaching for his hips.

“I know, but I’m tearing your pussy, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care, just want to feel you.”

Hyunjin swears under his breath and runs his thumbs back and forth across your spread knees. “Let’s slow down and do this right, hm? There’s no rush. I can stay all night, and I’ll still be here in the morning, if you want.”

As much as you hate to admit it, he’s right. There’s no need to hurry and let the sex be painful. Not when you have all the time in the world.

You nod. “Okay.”

He helps you off the table, stuffs his erection back into his pants as best he can and says, “Take me to the bedroom?”

Even as you oblige, taking his hand and leading him upstairs, you can’t help but tease, “This isn’t how I thought it would go. I really thought we’d hate-fuck in the kitchen for our first time.”

“Damn,” he laughs, “if only I wasn’t such a gentleman, huh.”

You laugh back. “Not my first choice of word to describe you, but I suppose you’re right.”

“Dare I ask what your first choice of word is?”

You pull him into your bedroom just to push his back against the nearest wall, fists balled into the flaps of his open shirt, eyes locked on his.

“Passionate,” you answer.

“Passionate,” he repeats, not exactly as a question, but testing the word. His hands rub your back through your robe, pressing you close to him again. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

He tips you backward, arms wrapped tight to keep you from falling. He trails wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and between your breasts. He nudges your robe aside with his nose to get to your nipple and roll his tongue against it in slow, deliberate circles. His touch is already doing wonders for getting you wet enough, but you get the feeling it will be a little while before he tries penetrating you again.

“Come here,” Hyunjin murmurs. He trades places with you, cradling the back of your head to keep it from knocking against the wall when your back hits it. “Can we take this all the way off?” he asks, tugging at your robe.

“Be my guest,” you whisper. The silk is barely hanging on to your body at this point anyway.

He peels it off your shoulders, letting it crumple to a heap on the floor. He exhales hard at the sight before him, eyes roaming over every bit of your naked body as if he didn’t just see most of it in the kitchen a moment ago.

He reaches down and cups you between your legs. You gasp at the heat of his hand trapping the heat of your most sensitive flesh. One of his fingers dips shallowly inside your hole. It feels a little wetter than before, but not by much. His other hand takes you by the hip.

“Sit on my face,” Hyunjin whispers. “Please sit on my face, I’m going to worship this fucking pussy.”

You swear you have a mini orgasm just from his words from the way your cunt clenches.

You grin from ear to ear and give his shoulders a little shove to get him moving toward the bed. He stumbles back a couple steps, and you do it again. He sits with a huff when the backs of his knees bend against the edge of your mattress, then smirks at you, waiting for your next move.

You hike a foot onto the bed beside his hip and tell him to: “Kiss it.”

Hyunjin looks to your crotch and smiles wider. He pulls you closer with one hand on your ass and bends forward to kiss your pussy with an open, eager mouth. The simple feeling of his pretty lips on you has your eyes fluttering and head tipping backward already.

He grabs your other ass cheek and tilts his face firmer between your legs, adding his tongue to his kisses to get you to moan for him, and it works. You moan and whimper with every flick of his tongue through your folds and around the hood of your sensitive clit. He has taken kiss it to devour it, and you are by no means complaining.

Soon, your knees are too weak to maintain this standing position, so you get Hyunjin to lie back so you can climb onto his face just as he wanted. There is hardly a break in his actions; he gets right back to eating you with the hottest fervor any partner has ever given you. He clearly knows how to use that tongue of his. It feels long and wide, licking everywhere at once. It feels strong, stroking your inner walls firmly.

He groans and sighs and whimpers along with every sweet noise you make, clearly enjoying himself every bit as much as you are. To hear someone as cool and calculated and dangerous and gorgeous as Hyunjin actually whimper so sweetly between your legs while eating you out is not something you ever thought you would experience, but now you’re not sure how you ever lived without it.

He wraps his soft lips around your clit and sucks hard. The noise and the sensation shoot straight through your nerves and you tremble hard above him, barely managing to keep your wits about you to keep from crushing his nose under your weight.

“Jesus, Hyunjin,” you say, head hanging from your neck, eyes shut tight. You lick your lips and whimper as he suckles your swollen bud as if it was your nipple. “You’re so good at this,” you breathe.

You expect him to comment on your rare compliment, but he only chuckles and continues his work of unraveling you. He sharpens his tongue and flicks it rapidly over your clit. He does it so well and so quickly that it pushes you over the edge rather unexpectedly, almost forcing your orgasm to surge through you.

“Oh fuck!” You slap your hand over your mouth and shiver through your high, riding his tongue with jerky, ungraceful motions of your hips to bring yourself back down from the waves of satisfaction. After what feels like five whole minutes, you slump off of him to the side and swallow hard, gulping for breath.

Hyunjin turns on his side with his head in his palm and grins at you. The lower half of his pretty face is glistening in your juices.

“You’re fucking hot when you come, Y/N,” he says. “Can’t believe it’s taken me this long to see your ‘O’ face.”

You laugh breathlessly and wipe your sweaty forehead. “Well, maybe I can come again on your cock.”

He rolls on top of you with a hum, still smiling. “Sweetheart, I would love for you to come again on my cock.”

His entry is much smoother now but still a tight, tight stretch. You gasp when his tip digs its way deep inside you, and he groans when he bottoms out to his aching balls.

“Holy shit, you just took it so well,” Hyunjin says, nuzzling his face into your neck rather sweetly. He holds his hips still against yours to give you a moment to adjust.

You exhale hard and will the walls of your cunt to relax around him just a little, but he still has you wound so tightly you almost feel like you could come just from a few thrusts of his long, thick cock.

It’s as if he can sense your thoughts. “Still so fucking tight from coming, aren’t you?” he whispers into your neck. His breath is hot and wet. So are his lips. “It’s alright, I’ll fuck you open nice and slow so you can feel every inch of what you do to me.”

He withdraws his hips until his heavy cock sits right at the edge of your hole, then pushes forward again. Your mouth falls open in a shuddering moan that he catches with a deep kiss. You clutch the back of his head, then the back of his neck, then his shoulders as he works up a rhythm with his gentle thrusts.

“Hyunjin,” you moan into his mouth.

He hums through another kiss, hand coming up to cup your chin so he can kiss you at the exact angles he wants. His other hand takes the back of your knee to hook your leg over his hip. His next thrust hits just a little deeper. It makes all the difference.

“God, that’s good,” Hyunjin groans lowly from his throat.

You wrap your other leg around him and hold on tight as he picks up the pace, composure cracking. He can’t help but seek more friction, and you smirk at the effect you have on him.

“Harder,” you urge him. “Hyunjin, harder, please.”

He lets out a tiny whimper, so much softer and sweeter than you ever imagined he could be capable of, especially paired with the way his hips buck harder and rougher into yours just as you asked.

He tilts his forehead against yours and stares at you with those hypnotic green eyes. His fiery hair falls into your eyes and onto your cheeks. His fingers dig into your cheeks for a second, then suddenly they are gone and in his mouth.

You watch in a daze as he brings those wet fingers down between your bodies to play with your swollen, sensitive clit. Your walls instantly clamp at the extra surge of pleasure, and he moans with you when he feels it. His other hand holds your hip to help steady you against his rough movements.

“Can’t… believe… I’m finally… fucking you,” he huffs between thrusts. His fingers draw clumsy circles against your clit, but it will be enough to get the job done so long as he keeps the pace.

You let a laugh slip. “Could’ve had this pussy sooner if you weren’t such an ass,” you say.

Hyunjin smirks down at you. He switches tactics with his fingers and presses his thumb to your clit instead. The figure-eights he draws into it are much smoother now.

“Don’t lie,” he says. “You liked the games.”

“Maybe a little,” you admit. “I liked seeing you in leather pants more, though.”

He swears under his breath and rotates his thumb faster against your slippery bud. His thrusts go from staggering to even and back again as his pleasure threshold approaches its limit.

“I’ll wear them every fucking day from now on if you want,” he says.

“Just to keep this pussy wrapped around you?”

“Mm—uh, fuck—whatever it takes to k-keep you on my arm.”

You shove your weight against him until he gives and rolls onto his back. He slips from you in the process, but you correct that by getting on top of him and sitting straight down on his wet cock. His eyes roll back in his pretty head over the rush of sensations in the span of a few seconds — surprise, disappointment, white hot bliss.

You lean down to press your lips to his ear. “Your dick is good, but I’m not a little trophy wife.”

Hyunjin grins up at you when you pull back. “Who said anything about being a wife?” he asks. He tries to thrust up into you. You press your hips down harder to keep him from moving too much. “I think you’re moving too fast for me, baby,” he says.

You bounce quickly on his lap, harder than you have ever ridden anyone, as if you have something to prove. His eyelids flutter again over the feeling of your velvety cunt sliding up and down and up and down along his throbbing length.

“Fast enough for you?” you ask, breathing hard through a smirk.

“Fucking— use it, Y/N,” Hyunjin pants, too lost in his pleasure now for any more smart ass remarks. “Use my dick to get yourself off. Fuck, you’re so fucking good.”

He tries to grab hold of your hips, but you take his wrists and guide them up above his head and press them into the pillow instead. You keep bouncing, swiveling your hips a little with every drop to make it extra good for both of you.

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you say, kissing his cheek rather tenderly, then licking the salt and tang of his sweat plus your lingering arousal off your lips. His face and neck and chest are flushed the lightest shade of pink from the sex.

You trail your lips down the side of his neck, shove your hand down to play with yourself while you ride him. Hyunjin looks down to watch you do it, biting his deliciously plump lip and moaning without shame. You love hearing him be so vocal for you rather than trying to suppress his noises.

You gift him with a moan of your own and lean back to get your feet under yourself to help with your movements. He moans louder at the change in view — your legs spread over his hips, pretty pussy on display for him as much as it can be with your hand in the way. Even without you pinning him down anymore, he keeps his hands right where they are on the pillow. Maybe you’ve fucked him boneless already.

“So fucking close,” you whimper, leaning your free hand on his leg behind you just to keep yourself upright. His hips rise to meet your drops and help your orgasm along. You can tell he’s not far off from his, either. His eyes have that glassy, fucked-out look in them.

“Me too,” he grunts. “You’re gonna have to pull off f-fast after you come, sweetheart, unless you — mm, shit — w-want me to come inside you.”

“Yes,” you say, completely out of your mind with lust. The thought of not having him inside you is too insane to bear right now. “Come in me, Hyunjin, please, please, need you to come.”

You expect him to remark on that. Something about knocking you up and you carrying a miniature version of himself inside you and being connected to him forever by your child… but he doesn’t say any of that.

“Come on me and I’ll come in you,” Hyunjin promises, smirking rather cockily for someone so fucked out.

He brings his hands to your hips again, and you let him this time. His grip is warm and firm and possibly the only thing keeping you grounded as another orgasm quakes through you, every bit as hard and fast as the first. You tremble hard over Hyunjin’s body, rocking shakily on his lap with the head of his cock pressed as hard to your gummy spot as you can get it, fingers flying over your clit to ride out every bit of ecstasy you can manage.

Hyunjin swears at the sight of your sweaty body convulsing over him, your head tipped back and perfect mouth parted in the sweetest moan he’s ever heard, your pussy clenching him repeatedly to coax out his own orgasm. He releases a heavy load of warm cum into you with a rumbling groan and a few more thrusts into your spent cunt to milk out every drop.

He gathers you in his arms when you collapse onto his heaving chest. His heartbeat is loud and erratic in your ear. Your breathing is loud and erratic to match.

“Fucking hell,” he swears under his breath, then swallows hard through his dry throat. “That was—”

“A long time coming?”

“—incredible.”

You giggle. “Right. That too.”

You lift off his softening cock and slump to the side. Hyunjin turns with you, keeping his arms wrapped loosely around you. You reach out and tuck some of his sweaty hair behind his ear.

“Was that everything you imagined?” you ask, voice soft and a little hoarse.

He sighs happily with a smile. "Even better,” he says. “Was it good for you?”

You pluck his bottom lip with your thumb. “Couldn’t you tell how much I loved it?”

“Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.”

You peck his lips once, then twice, then say, “You’re right, it was incredible.”

Hyunjin breaks into a wide, dimpled grin. “Say it again.”

“It was incredible.”

“No, the first part.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “You were right.”

“Thank you.”

He kisses you again, and the two of you settle into a comfortable, exhausted silence with his head tucked onto your chest and your chin resting on the top of his head. His breathing evens to the point where you think he must be asleep, but you speak up again anyway.

“Can’t believe you broke your man’s arm for me.”

Hyunjin takes a slow breath, inhaling deeply, exhaling quietly. “What can I say, sweetheart? I’m passionate like that.”

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