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byuntrash101 · 1 year ago

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sharing is caring?

hongjoong x f!reader x mingi smut | mdni 5.2k of course hongjoong cares about his friends but when mingi gets too close to his girl it’s time to remind him sharing is not always caring. nsfw tags under the cut

dom possessive bf!joong, sub simp!mingi, exhibitionism, voyeurism, joong has a point to prove, fingering (f), oral (f), squirting, multiple orgasms (f), a dash of spit kink, unprotected sex (don't), nipple play, praising (f), hair pulling (m), slight degradation (mingi is called desperate and a dog), masturbation (m), dry humping, some mxm but not really (just trust me), leg humping, slight edging, cumming untouched, cum play, cum eating

a/n: idk what happened. i was horny okay? (what's new ?lol) and im not even sorry for the absolute filth that follows.

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Hongjoong, Mingi and yourself have been in the studio for hours now, it was well past into the night but neither of you were complaining. You were way too focussed on producing this song to even feel the effect of fatigue tensing the muscles of your neck and laying heavy on your eyes.

You were all too focussed. Well, you were definitely the one that was the most focused right now. Because as you bent over the mixing board to point out on the screen the section that seemed to require more work, you accidentally found yourself crowding Mingi’s personal space. Of course, you made nothing of it. Mingi was your friend, you’ve been physically close to him dozens of times, it didn’t mean anything in particular. But Mingi has had different feelings about you for a while. Maybe even ever since you started dating Hongjoong and right now the only thing he could see was that the loose fitted tank top you were wearing hung slightly around your chest which resulted in your breasts being on display, in close proximity and right at his eye level.

Subconsciously his eyes were attracted to the exposed skin and he had to bite his bottom lip to repress a small gasp of surprise. He innocently pulled back on the beanie that was falling low on his forehead and his eyes just to be able to look a little better. He didn’t even need to turn his head, only look slightly to the side and he could see everything: the black lace bra you were wearing, the crease between your breasts. He could smell your delicate perfume. Hell, you were so close he could even feel your body warmth radiating on his face. Or maybe the warmth he felt was actually from his own boiling blood rushing to his face… and to his groin.

Hongjoong that was slightly leaning on his office chair saw the whole scene unfold as he peered at the both of you through his large silver framed glasses. Inexplicable anger started to seep into his blood when he saw his friend eyeing you in that way. Hongjoong knew you were beautiful, there was no possible way not to look at you. But he still didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

“Don’t you think so?” you added when neither of the men you were directly addressing responded.

Mingi only shifted uncomfortably when you stood back straight, oddly averting your eyes and Hongjoong only nodded absentmindedly. You figured they were just too tired to continue and as you were opening your mouth to suggest you should go to sleep and continue later, Hongjoong spoke up.

“Why don’t you go in the recording booth to sample some of the voice lines and we can all decide which one sounds better?” He suggested and you lit up.

“Great idea” you said, grabbing the music sheets and disappearing behind the door of the soundproof recording booth to reappear through the small window. You slipped on the headset, adjusted the mic stand and spread out the music sheets while Mingi and Hongjoong looked at you silently. You gave two thumbs up when you were ready.

“Okay great” Your boyfriend’s voice resonated in the headset. “Let’s start with the first one” you nodded and soon after heard the music cue.

Both of the men in the small space right next door were strangely quiet. Mingi couldn’t stop shifting on his chair as he tried to find a position that would conceal his hard on. Trying to concentrate on your voice coming through the speakers and not the way you smelled or the slutty lingerie your were wearing under such unsuspecting clothes or your beautiful and perfect fucking tits shoved right into his face, both his hands laying over them and palming them as he buried his face between. Fuck he was getting harder.

“What do you think?” Hongjoong asked him as you were still singing through the speakers.

Right there Mingi realized he hadn’t been paying any attention to what was going on around him. His mind was poisoned by the images he was so vividly picturing: you slipping off the flimsy tank top and taking his hands to lay over the bra, asking him to play with your tits, begging him to take off the lace that was keeping you from feeling his hands on your nude skin. Or you spread out onto the mixing table with Mingi’s face buried between your thighs, getting to finally taste you and hear you as he made you feel good, feeling your pussy throb under his tongue smearing your wetness all over his face. That was what Mingi was paying attention to, not the song. Definitely not the song.

But he needed to find something to say before he looked suspicious so he went another route. A route that wasn’t directly about the song but still close enough to pass.

“I think she’s a good addition to the team. Look at how far we’ve come with this song already? Of course we still have to run it by Eden but I mean it’s pretty much done.”

“No” Hongjoong started, already his tone was a lot less neutral, tipping towards the cold end of the spectrum. And Mingi bit his lip thinking his friend was going to ask him to be more specific about the voice samples he wasn’t listening to but how wrong he was...

“I mean physically what do you think?” Hongjoong’s tone was now as glacial as could be as he did his best to dissimulate the burning rage that was hiding behind the biting cold tone.

The words didn’t make any sense in Mingi’s mind. So he turned to his friend trying to find on his face a hint that could help him make the sentence he just heard make sense. But he only found Hongjoong looking right at him, dead serious, an unfamiliar darkness about his aura.

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded and utterly confused.

“You wanna fuck my girlfriend?"

This time around Mingi heard correctly, that he was sure of. But he was still just as confused about the whole ordeal. ��What the fuck are you on ab-”

“I saw you practically drooling all over her tits earlier” Hongjoong interrupted him, piercing eyes peering at his friend over his rectangular glasses. Now Mingi was shifting in his seat again.

Fuck… he saw that.

Mingi started to stammer to whip up a reasonable excuse but his pressured mind couldn’t come up with anything worthwhile. Of course! Because there was no reasonable excuse. Truth was he gave in to his primal instinct and couldn’t look away.

But very fortunately for him that’s when you emerged from the recording booth.

“So what are we thinking? Clearly my delivery wasn’t the best for the second option but cut me some slack and just imagine Jongho, okay?” you said, your exhaustion seeping through your words in the form of exasperation, completely oblivious of the heavy air that was stretching between the two friends.

Mingi jumped on the occasion to escape the humid tension that was raising the hairs on his nape.

“I need to make a call” he abruptly said as he stood up and hurriedly left the studio. You sighed slowly coming to term with the idea that sadly, you won’t be able to finish the song tonight.

“What’s his deal?”

***

Mingi didn’t need long. He just needed a couple of minutes to gather his thoughts, that's all. He thought as he rushed to the bathroom and locked the door right behind him, even though you three were the only ones left here.

“What the fuck were you thinking” he whispered to his reflexion pointing an accusing finger at the mirror above the sink. "Of course he noticed!" He slipped his white beanie off and settled it on the edge of the sink. He splashed his face a couple times with water in an attempt to clear his mind. But even the cold water wasn't enough to soothe the aching hard on that was currently pressing tight onto the cold ceramic of the bathroom sink.

Mingi looked at himself for a second, pondering.

"Fuck it!" He concluded before shoving his hand down his loose-fitting sweats and pulling his rock hard cock out.

"I just need to cum real quick" he said to himself in an almost apologetic tone. Almost bargaining with himself.

He spat in his open palm and dragged the warm liquid to his cockhead with a lowly sigh of relief that made his Adam's apple vibrate in his throat.

"God- fuck-" he breathed out. Mingi didn't even need to focus on anything in particular to get himself there. He just closed his eyes and images of you came running forth.

He saw himself ripping your tank top and bra off in one movement freeing your beautiful tits and groping them right in front of his friend. He saw you sinking to your knees pulling his sweatpants down and taking him into your mouth. Your lips perfectly stretching around his large cock.

He spat in his hand again picturing the wetness and tightness of your throat instead of his balled fist. Loud and lewd noises erupted from the act, squelching wet sounds coupled with heavy sighs and strangled moans he struggled to keep behind his teeth.

"F-fuckkk" he whined a little more high pitched than anticipated. He picked up the pace, pressing his thumb on his tip to squeeze the precum out as he felt himself twitch.

If Hongjoong only knew how right he was. Mingi did want to fuck his girlfriend. He wanted to fuck you so bad. How he would have loved to stuff you full of his cock right then and there. Bending you over the armchair and snaking his big hand into your hair making you look up at your boyfriend while he just watched helplessly as Mingi claimed you, pounding into you mercilessly, splitting you open on his cock, your pretty face contorted into blissful agony because of him. For him. Only him.

He let your name roll off his hot tongue a hundred times in muffled and secret pants and moans until the pleasure was unbearable, uncontainable and spilled over the edge of Mingi’s sinful mind. And he was spraying his warm cum all over his fist and the bathroom sink in a last broken complaint of your name, his other hand tightly gripping the edge of the sink as if his large and ample thighs were going to give out.

He looked at his mess in the sink and took a couple of deep breaths. That should be enough to get his mind out of the gutter… Right?

***

“What’s his deal?” you said nodding to the door. Your boyfriend only shrugged nonchalantly while you settled the music sheets on the mixing board, shoulders flat and defeated.

“You look tired baby” Hongjoong added with a warm smile ignoring your question about Mingi. He didn't want to talk about him right now. “Cm’here” he said patting his lap invitingly. You accepted the offer and settled yourself comfortably in Hongjoong’s lap, letting your back rest against his chest. He took advantage of the position to sneak in kisses to the base of your nape and nuzzling his nose in your neck. And before you knew it his hands had snaked around your waist and lightly stroked your inner thighs. The light touches lifted goosebumps on your bare skin, thanks to the skirt you chose to wear today.

Soon enough you had completely fallen into your boyfriend’s embrace. You were so relaxed now that you forgot about everything else and you didn’t even realize how his legs came over yours to spread them nice and wide. But you did feel when his sneaky hands slipped under your skirt and stroked the thin fabric of your black lace underwear. You jolted but Hongjoong’s legs around yours kept you in position.

“Joongie” you started to whine when he applied more pressure to your sensitive area.

“Shhh” he soothed you with more kisses. “Let me help you unwind” he said softly in your ear.

“But what if Mingi comes back?”

Hongjoong didn’t answer that, only smirking against your nape and sliding your underwear to the side. That’s enough of an answer for you, and even more so when Hongjoong dipped his finger to your entrance while his other hand sneaked under your loose tank top and under your bra to cup your breast. You could only let a moan slither through your teeth when Hongjoong gathered your wetness in slow circles over your opening to drag it back to your clit.

“I barely even touched you and you’re already this wet?” Hongjoong noticed as you complained with another little whine. “My naughty girl~”he sang. “I bet that’s exactly what you were waiting for, huh? My hands all over your pretty little pussy.”

He started to draw circles on the erect nub inevitably making your little cunt create a big mess under your skirt. As he picked up the pace he started to pull a little harder at your nipple making you moan just a little louder than you anticipated, making you clap your hand over your traitorous mouth.

“Be careful baby. We want to be able to hear when Mingi comes back” you felt heat rush to your neck at the idea of getting caught in this position. That’s when Hongjoong pushed his index and middle finger past your entrance. You moaned again against your fingers, eyebrows digging a crease in your forehead as you tried to remain as silent as possible. Maybe you could muffle your voice but the same thing couldn’t be said about the squelching noises your boyfriend was dragging out of your sopping wet cunt. Long strings of arousal linking his fingers and your heat every time he pulled out to play with your painfully sensitive clit.

Your high was nearing and as the pleasure rose you slowly forgot about your whereabouts so when you heard footsteps coming your way from the hall you stiffened in your boyfriend’s lap. Instinctively trying to close your legs. But Hongjoong’s strong thighs kept you exactly like you were.

“J-Joongie…hmph…M-Min-gi” you struggled to say as Hongjoong kept on teasing your clit and nipple.

Your eyes darted over to the door when you heard the recognizable clatter of the handle, your heartbeat started to raise and you struggled to close your legs.

“Stay put baby.” Hongjoong breathed against the shell of your ear. Which made you stop. “I want you stay exactly like this”

You can’t describe the overwhelming shame that took over you when you saw the door being pushed open and you were met with Mingi.

It only took mere milliseconds for Mingi’s eyes to dart from your flushed face and half lidded eyes to the suspicious movements under your skirt and to Hongjoong’s smug little smile.

Mingi’s cheeks instantly became scarlet red as he turned his head around to look away. But even if he couldn't see anymore he could still hear the sound of your cunt being stretched open by Hongjoong’s fingers as well as your soft muffled moans. And even though he just jacked off in the bathroom he still felt his pants becoming tighter once again.

“You can look” Hongjoong started. “I’ll allow it. So you can see she only belongs to me”

Mingi barely wrapped his mind around the words but nonetheless he slowly looked in your direction again. Instantly he felt blood rush to his lower half again, reaching full hardness in a matter of seconds but how could he not? When you sounded and looked so divine and adorable at the same time. Even behind your hands clamped over half your face, muffling your sounds and wet eyes looking back at him occasionally fluttering close and open when he guessed Hongjoong was expertly teasing you. How could he not when he saw your skirt being lifted up and being let down at such a rapid pace accompanied with those wet and lewd sounds that were erupting from between your legs. The sinful acts only concealed by the damn piece of fabric.

It took Mingi everything he had to not just whip his cock out right then and there and stroke himself again. Instead his stupidly hard cock laid uselessly in his pants leaking precum in his underwear.

“I bet you want to see what’s going on under there, huh?” Hongjoong taunted, as Mingi stared obtusely between your thighs, with his mouth agape and his cock poking through his sweatpants.

Mingi already came this far and maybe lust was clouding his judgment and desire was getting the best of him but he nodded slowly peeling his eyes off the cursed skirt to look at his friend’s devious little smirk playing on his lips.

“I’ll let you if you get on your knees and-”

In a split second Mingi found himself kneeling in front of the both of you, interrupting Hongjoong.

“You’re really that much of a simp for my girlfriend? Have some dignity, bro” Your boyfriend spat. But Mingi barely registered the insult he was entranced by the way your skirt was lifting and falling. He'll have time to mourn his lost dignity tomorrow. Tonight he did not intend on letting his chance slip away.

“Come closer” Hongjoong commanded and Mingi crawled to you until his face was way too close for comfort. At this close distance Mingi heard the sounds of your wet cunt being abused as clear as day as loud as bells. He even wished he could record them to play them forever but if he wants to relive this moment he will only be able to count on his memory, maybe that was why he was so attentive. He wanted to remember every detail. He took a deep breath inhaling your scent that was now floating to his nose. You smelled divine, the right amount of sweet and sinful. The perfect cocktail. Strong but oh so feminine. A fragrance that went straight to his head to burn his last two functioning brain cells.

“Now promise after tonight you won’t ever look at my girl ever again” Mingi didn’t need to hear it twice. He immediately followed with the request.

“I promise I won’t look at y/n ever again” Mingi hurriedly said, almost choking on his saliva. Truth be told, in this instant he would have agreed to virtually anything, he would have eaten the off white beanie right then and there if he was asked to. He’ll think about the consequences tomorrow.

“Okay baby, lift up your skirt” Hongjoong said his tone changing radically, as stern as he was when addressing Mingi he was now soft and gentle with you.

“But Joongie” you whined right before a moan beat to the punch another complaint as your boyfriend slipped his fingers out of your heat to circle your clit once more.

“Come on baby, be a good girl and do as you’re told” he said before shoving his fingers back in earning another muffled moan. “Show your pretty little pussy to our guest.”

Slowly but surely your hands left your face to wrap your fingers around the hem of your skirt at both your sides. Mingi couldn't believe his eyes as he looked up at your flushed face looking right back into his eyes as you carefully lifted up your skirt. His eyes darted straight down to your core. His hard cock immediately jumped inside his sweatpants, his eyes grew twice as big and his mouth started to water. There was nothing that was more beautiful in the world he thought as he slipped the beanie off his head, setting it carelessly on the ground beside him.

The way your perfect little cunt accepted Hongjoong’s fingers, clamping around them every time he pulled them out to circle your clit a couple of times before pushing them back in again, your little cunt emjoying the attention and twitching under Mingi’s scrutinizing gaze.

You felt the thrill of being watched as you looked at Mingi, eyeing you like a famished man. His hair disheveled and his cheeks pink. It made your core tingle with a brand new source of arousal and you wiggled your toes in lustful shame.

“Fuck” Mingi said under his breath making you moan a little louder as you watched him being entranced by you.

The thrill rocketed you to your high and you started to squirm and clench around Hongjoong’s fingers. He knew exactly what it meant.

“P-please Joongie. Can I-” you panted as your fists tensed up around the hem of the skirt but never letting your hold falter making sure Mingi saw every part of you. Normally Hongjoong liked to tease you but this time he wanted to reward you for being such a good and obedient girl. And moreover he wanted to give his friend a good show of how only he could make you feel this good.

“Look carefully” he whispered, addressing his friend kneeling between your legs, eyes perfectly leveled with your pussy. “Cum baby” he said, his hot lips pressed to your ear. And you immediately let go. Letting your walls grip Hongjoong’s fingers urging them to reach further as you twitched uncontrollably, your cum flowing out of you in quick spurts. Soaking the carpeted floor. Mingi’s jaw dropped to the ground as he watched the precious nectar being wasted on the carpet. His throat suddenly feeling as dry and the saharan desert, licking his chapped lips instinctively at the fleeting and forbidden thought of connecting his lips to your core to have a taste of you.

Hongjoong accompanied you gently as you rode off your high, your back arched into his chest. Hongjoong pulled his fingers until only his first knuckle was still inside and spread his fingers apart, stretching you open beautifully for Mingi to look at how your walls fluttered around nothing, your orgasm prolonging as your chest rose and fell rapidly, your moans slowly dying off.

“Look at how pretty she is just for me” Hongjoong added, spreading his fingers even wider, as you whined again but still holding the hem of the skirt up with purpose. This way Mingi could even see your cervix pulsing, he could almost hear it demanding cum. Demanding to be fucked full of cum and knocked up right then and there, holding Mingi as witness.

“Fuck” was the only thing Mingi could enunciate truth be told his brain was completely fried and he didn't have the wits to come up with anything more clever.

You couldn’t help but squirm again as Mingi leaned in to have a better view at your most private parts, his nose was now only a couple of inches away from your cunt and he couldn't help but to take a big whiff of you. Your essence absolutely bewitched him… he just couldn't help but to wonder how you tasted.

“You did so good baby” Hongjoong soothed immediately as he slipped his fingers out bringing them to his mouth. Mingi followed his friend's tongue wrap around his digits and lap up the precious liquid coating them as he instinctively swiped his tongue on his bottom lip, his hard and leaking cock slowly forming a pool of precum in his sweatpants.

“How do you think she tastes?” Hongjoong taunted his friend again.

“Fucking delicious” Mingi sighed his dick twiching at the thought of your wetness coating his tongue.

“Trust me whatever you're imagining. It’s better. ” Hongjoong said, holding his saliva and cum coated fingers to your lips which you welcome into your mouth. “How do you taste baby?” he asked, smirking at his friends looking with the most desperate of eyes at how you licked off his fingers clean.

“So good Joongie” you replied before he popped his fingers out of your mouth with a lewd sound.

Mingi watched as he swallowed thickly just as you did so, echoing the sound with his own mouth as if this way he would get a taste.

“Baby you’re so hot I got so fucking hard for you” Hongjoong whispered in your neck and pressed a couple of wet kisses to the shell of your ear and jerked his hips into you poking his cock on your ass.

You didn’t need anything more to busy your hand and freeing Hongjoong’s cock from the uncomfortable restrains.

“Sit on my cock baby” he urged, with all of that teasing he also got pretty worked up.

When your boyfriend’s cock rubbed on your folds you jolted your hips in anticipation. Before aligning him with you and slowly sinking your hips on his. Mingi held his breath at how your pussy perfectly fitted around him, perfectly expanded to have him whole inside you until you bottomed out with a whiny and breathy moan.

“Good girl” he said, wrapping both his hands under your thighs and thrusting up into you. The first couple of strokes were slow, mainly to warm you up to him but also to let Mingi have a good look at his cock splitting you open.

“Joongie~~” you cried as you let Hongjoong take control. “Fuck it feels so good” you let your head rolls back onto his shoulder

“Yeah? You like that?” he said as he sped up.

“Fuck yeah I love it. I love your cock” you declared.

Mingi couldn't believe his eyes or his ears as a matter of fact. To hear you say such sinful things, hearing you make these unholy noises. Getting to see your cunt clench around his friend's dick. There was not a trace of doubt in Mingi’s mind. You were made just for his cock. Perfectly molded just for him.

“Who’s cock do you love baby?” Hongjoong asked through gritted teeth, maintaining the deadly pace between pants and groans.

“Yours!! Your cock!! Kim Hongjoong’s cock!!!!” you replied hurriedly, almost instinctively. Your mind is only filled with thoughts of your boyfriend.

“Hear that?” Hongjoong asked, almost laughing as if his friend's misery entertained him. Mingi didn’t even need to look at him; he could hear the shit eating grin from a mile away. He was annoyed at that but he was even more annoyed at the way he couldn’t look away, he couldn’t help himself.

“Fuckkk” Mingi moaned when your shin accidentally brushed over his clothed crotch. He felt pityfull for it but he couldn't help it. He wrapped both his hands around your calf and started to hump your leg. The last strand of sanity out the window as he mindlessly humped your leg like a dog.

“You’re that desperate huh? That’s fucking laughable. you're really like a dog” Hongjoong laughed again. “Pathetic.” But Mingi didn’t even hear. He was too focussed on looking at your cunt swallowing Hongjoong’s dick and spit it back out covered in your glistening juices, said juices pooling on Hongjoong’s pants and staining them.

Fucked you looked so fucking delicious, and your leg felt so good on his miserably hard cock he couldn’t stop the high pitched moans from leaving his lips and being set free in the small studio, joining yours and Hongjoong’s in a sinful trio. Undoubtedly the most beautiful and harmonious song ever produced within these four soundproof walls.

“Are you close baby?” Hongjoong asked between pants, his hips never faltering, fucking up into you and rearranging your guts.

“Yessss” you cried. “so– so c-close”

“You need a little help to get there?”

Mingi’s ears perked up.

“Yes” you replied, shyly, getting an idea of what that implied.

“Mingi?” Hongjoong asked and instantly Mingi wrapped his mouth around your clit. You threw your head back, your moans morphing into literal screams of bliss. Mingi had been so starved of your taste ever since you started dating Hongjoong. He found himself wondering how you tasted like and he was not about to keep that an eternal mystery. He closed his lips around your nub sucking at it like a starved man. Twirling his tongue on the bud, even dipping deep down at your entrance, he didn’t mind one bit if he felt his tongue dragged along the cock of his friend as Hongjoong rammed into your tight cunt, all he wanted was to taste your juices that pooled the sides to drag them up to your clit.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum” you announced, your hand instinctively finding Mingi’s locks of hair and pulling at it. Making him groan against your folds, his hips snapping against your legs as he grunted louder and louder by the second.

“Cum, baby. Let him taste how much you love me” Hongjoong groaned as he felt you grip tighter around him, your hungry cunt urging him to deliver his warm load. Demanding to be filled to the brim.

“Fuck baby I’m cumming. Gonna fuck you full of my cum” Hongjoong warned.

“Y-yes please fill me up!! pleasepleaseplease” you started to mumble, your words all jumbled up in a desperate and lust induced plea.

“Fucking take it” Hongjoong said giving a particularly sharp thrust into you, his tip going up to kiss your cervix and delivering his huge and warm load right into your womb as you also let go of the burning coil in your guts, your walls spasmming around Hongjoong’s cock and your clit throbbing under Mingi’s tongue. Once more your cum gushed out of you like a waterfall and soaking Mingi’s face. Hongjoong’s relentless thrusts pulling the white cum out until it perfectly mixed with yours, the bitter taste of his friend’s load coating his tongue and making Mingi dizzy on your and Hongjoong’s love

“Fuckkk” Mingi groaned as his hips became less precise, creaming himself with his cum, the warm seed spreading into his boxer and seeping through the sweatpants to form a visible dark gray stain. His dick uncontrollably twitching inside his pants as he moaned face flushed against your folds, his tongue continuously lapping up your cunt and around Hongjoong’s cock until both the men came to a stop.

When Hongjoong pulled out, Mingi let go of your leg to plunge his face between your thighs, lapping up the cum dripping out of your fluttering and shapeless little hole and swallowing it in big gulps. Dragging his tongue to your over sensitive clit, not caring for your overstimulated body until you pulled him by the hair off your exhausted puffy cunt.

“Stop~~” you whined breathlessly which snapped Mingi out of his trance as he looked up at you with fucked out eyes, lips swollen and his face made shiny with both your releases.

“There!” Hongjoong said. “You got what you wanted. Now don't go and forget your promise.”

Mingi groaned… he almost did forget about that. This opportunity might never happen again but he will always have the memory of this night in the studio and your taste on his tongue he thought, licking his lips.

“Fine”

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

taglist: @doom-fics @seonghwasslytherin @marirose25 @tinyznnie @minnies-duo @woohwababes @notevenheretbh1 @yourbeomiebear @lucidliving1205 @yourfatherlucifer @meljoongiee

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supernova41st · 4 months ago

Text

Sweet n’ Sour 👛 (pt.2)

Tf2 x “nice”Reader

A/n: Here’s pt.1 if you don’t know what this fic is abt, ik I said I was going to do my own fic after the last one I made but I couldn’t think of anything sooo I’m just doing this. I might do a ‘tf2 x Snooki!Reader’ cuz I just started watching jersey shore and I love it (also you could tell I put my whole heart and ass into snipers section)

warnings: Slut shaming, Reader and Sniper banging, enemies to lovers, hatefuck (sorry this one’s wild)

Pyro

Pyro quickly took a liking to you because of your girly nature, he loved your style

He’s only ever been on your good side, painting nails reading magazines gossiping etc.

He’s such a girls man. No, not a ladies man, a girls man

“Holy fuck! Snooki got arrested”

“Mm mffmm mmm?”

*from jersey shore??

“Yes from jersey shore!!”

Of course you two are duos on the battlefield, skipping happily around the blu teams base as it burns down

Def owns one of those heart friendship necklaces

About him being a girls man, he always makes sure you look good on the battlefield

Loves picking out outfits with you and always carries around something he knows you’ll forget

“Shit! I forgot to put on lipgloss..”

“Mmm mmphm mm?”

*here, cherry bomb right?

“gasp Omg I love you so much 💕”

You and Pyro would have the loving best friend relationship, kissing each others cheek and shit

Doing makeup on mask>>>>

Imagine the fake lashes along w the blush 😭 he loves it

lol put big anime girl eyes on him pls

“You’re fucking chewing right now P.”

“mmm mm!!!”

*thank you!!

Sniper

He hated you when he first saw you omg. Sniper is introverted cuz he got bullied and school, so now he automatically thinks any girl with even a slightly feminine style is bitchy

To be fair you were.. to him

Srry but he got annoyed with you so fast, it started a hefty rivalry between you and snipes

“Where’s princess prissy?”

“Uhm I know you’re not talking about me, at least I actually go down there to fight unlike you in the sidelines.”

It’s always something with you guys istg

He has to admit (but won’t) , he loves watching you destroy the enemy team the way you do from afar. Blood and guts getting in your hair and pretty face. Whenever you catch him staring at you you always give him the finger, makes him chuckle despite how much he ‘hates’ you

Sometimes he has to leave more than piss in his jars

He still kept the enemy streak but it was just to hide his feelings

The mercs get so sick of your guys’s attitude, they practically begged Miss Pauling to send you and sniper off to a mission so they can get a break. She obliged

“Yeah I’m not working with him, sorry! I’d rather go back to juvie than go sleep in his musty van.”

“Bonzy, wouldn’t want to smell your bloody strong perfume all over me van ya whore.”

“I’d rather smell like strong perfume than someone who hangs around piss jars and has coffee breath!!”

Miss Pauling immediately understood why the mercs wanted you guys to go away. And so she forced you to stay in his ‘musty van’ for a week so that you both can go assassinate god knows who. Safe to say it wasn’t an easy trip.

“Ay, I’m gonna go hunt for dinner, you comin’?

“Why the fuck would I wanna go with you?? Bye.”

damn, you didn’t have to end him like that 😭

You felt something when this bitch came back with a 14ft alligator, dragging it by the tail back to the van. You bit your lip staring at him as he wiped the sweat from his forehead

You asked him to hook up, you tried to be subtle but it just turned out uneasy to say the least

“Hey I liked the way you um.. dragged that crocodile back there”

“Chuckle it was a alligator, Sheila”

“Of course you know the difference..”

You blushed, along with him, laughing awkwardly, biting your pink painted thumbnail while he scratched the back of his neck

Cut to you guys waking up naked in his bed all sweaty

Hate fucking or not, now instead of the mercs being annoyed of you hating each other too much, they hate how much you love each other

“Cmon guys not in the goddamn break room..”

“Sorry, I just love his black coffee breath”

“And I love the smell of the perfume I got ya”

“God I fucking hate it when you use Australian slang..”

You still did your thing in the break room

Spy

He has so much hate in his heart for you, and it shows

The difference between him and sniper is that he doesn’t like ANYTHING about you, especially the way you fight

Sure it surprised him when you showed off how you fought, but he didn’t take a liking to it

While trying to sneak up on an enemy sniper, you immediately bashed their head in with your pink hammer. He glared at you so hard

“😐”

“What shitface?? Say something. I got impatient you were taking too long.”

This guy wants nothing to do with you, if you get assigned to a mission together he’ll have his way to sneak out of it.

In the expiration date short you wrote

Fuck you <3

On the paper he handed to everyone along with a drawing of a middle finger for the bucket thing he did

How did he know it was you? You made the hand look exactly like yours, acrylic nails and all.

You and scout started giggling like school girls

“..would anyone else like to insult me??”

soldier slowly raising his hand

Posting on your story in the middle of a battle is such a good way to mess with him, just doing the peace sign while he stays frustrated in the background

‘This old fuck really expects me to kill this big bitch alone 😹😹 Lol he fucking wishes, anyways I’m prob gonna get in trouble bcuz of this but IDRC 💜 #ellieandmasonhouse’

He wants to kill you so bad, sadly you’re one of the most useful mercs on the team. But if you weren’t he’d be so down to kill you

#Spotify #x reader #tf2 x reader #pyro x reader #sniper x reader #sniper smut #spy x reader #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 pyro

172 notes · View notes

xomakara · 8 months ago

Text

Perfume

SUMMARY | Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Jungwoo all get a bit too jealous of each other when you have sex with them individually. PAIRING | DoJaeJung/Reader GENRE | smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, wall sex, foursome, dirty talk, praising, jealousy, voyeurism RATING | Mature LENGTH | 8,652 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | I hoped this turned out okay hahahaha. I feel like my writing has gone downhill lately lol Tags - @sleepyvic, @marvelahsobx, @ahgazen @wayvaxis

“Fuck, Y/N…” Jaehyun moaned out as you rocked against him. His hands were at your waist, watching the sway of your breasts, the sensual look on your face as you kept up the rhythm that drove him crazy.

You let out a moan as you continued to ride him, your hands on his hard chest feeling every defined muscle underneath. Your nails lightly dug into his skin, drawing blood that mixed with sweat from your bodies. You could hear his breaths getting shorter and shorter.

He was close, he was so close.

You didn’t even care about hearing the guys knocking on Jaehyun’s bedroom door, didn’t even hear Johnny shouting for the both of you to cover up before knocking the door down.

You were feeling good, so very fucking good.

“Jae, please…” You panted, feeling his hands grasp your breast harder. “Please… I want to feel you come in me… Please…”

Your cries were loud enough to be heard outside the room, but you couldn’t care if the others heard you. It felt like it was only you and Jaehyun, no one else mattered. Nothing mattered except the two of you being connected by sex.

Finally, he groaned, giving a final thrust before he came inside of you. You collapsed onto his body, kissing him softly as you rested your head against his shoulder. He held you tight, breathing heavily. He pulled the sheets over the both of you, in preparation of the guys storming their way into the room.

But they never did.

The next thing you knew, you fell asleep, tangled together on Jaehyun’s bed.

When you woke up, you found yourself still on Jaehyun’s bed, your head resting on his pillow. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you closer. The sunlight peeking through the window told you it was well past noon already.

Looking up, you saw him smiling at you sleepily, just staring at you for what seemed like forever. You reached out to cup his cheek, running your thumb across his cheekbone slowly. His smile widened when you traced the contours of his lips. He grabbed onto your hand, gently stroking it, holding your hand there as he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. A small smile graced his lips again as he leaned in, kissing you gently.

And then, he pulled away.

That familiar glint appeared in his eyes once more.

It always returned whenever he looked at you. That soft look of yearning and love.

His fingers ran up and down your arm, stopping on your wrist. With a soft sigh, you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his, not caring who or what would walk in. After all, the light from the window was blinding anyway.

Jaehyun pulled back slightly, bringing your hand to his mouth, biting your palm softly. You giggled quietly as he ran his tongue along your skin. "Mmm...you smell sweet, Y/N... like strawberries."

A soft smile spread across your lips as you intertwined your fingers with his. He slowly pushed you to your back, taking the time to nibble on your earlobe, letting out little hums that made you squirm under him. He kissed your neck, lingering there before moving to trail soft kisses down your collar bone. "Princess, your perfume makes me want to eat you up. Your scent is intoxicating."

You let out a little gasp as his fingers dipped between your legs, teasing your clit. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning. "Jaehyun...again?"

"Yes, again," he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Again and again..."

You breathed in his scent, the heavenly smells of his cologne and the strawberry scented perfume you used created a mix that was impossible to describe. His breath was warm against your skin, his touch hot.

Every touch from him was intoxicating. Every word spoken from his mouth was heavenly.

There was no doubt that you'd smell like him after this. You'd be left with his scent lingering all over you. It would be impossible not to be addicted to him. You'd crave him constantly.

He moved lower, kissing and sucking at each of your collar bones. When he finally moved further down, you let out a moan of pleasure, wanting nothing more than for him to take you. Just fuck you until you screamed out his name. Until you begged for him to do it again and again. You wanted it, needed it, wanted everything that he had to offer.

As he slipped two fingers inside of you, you felt your walls tighten around them, aching for him to push deeper inside of you. His other hand cupped your cheek, pushing you to open your eyes and look at him. Your pupils dilated at the sight of him. He stared deep into your eyes, making you feel special. Making you feel like you were the most important person in the world to him.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly. You nodded. "Good. Because I'm going to make you feel so damn good..."

He parted your legs wider, making sure that your pussy was fully exposed for him. His fingers rubbed your sensitive flesh, circling your clit before brushing your inner walls.

You closed your eyes, whimpering. God, how badly you wanted him to enter you. To fill you up completely.

"I'm going to have my way with you..." He whispered against your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. His teeth gently nipped at your bottom lip before sucking on it, driving you wild. Withdrawing his fingers, he flipped you over so that you were on all fours, the sun's rays now hitting your back. "My naughty princess..."

Slowly, he trailed his fingers down your spine, grazing the sensitive skin as he went. His fingers dug into your hips, spreading your ass cheeks apart for him.

A small moan escaped your throat, pushing your ass higher into the air, inviting him in. You arched your back, exposing your clit to him. Your mind was a blank slate, his touches having an effect on you. There was no thought, no memories, just sensation. Pure, unadulterated sensation.

His hands were at your hips, guiding you, keeping you steady as he rubbed himself against your dripping wet entrance. And then, he slid himself inside of you, filling you completely. You let out a gasp, wanting more. More of his cock, more of his touch, more of his warmth surrounding you.

With every inch he slid into you, you wanted more. You felt his hands move down your sides, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucked you slow and deep. You let out another gasp as he picked up the pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip, his other hand squeezing your breast. You could feel the building pressure in your lower stomach, wanting release. "Jaehyun...oh god…"

He slowed down, withdrawing almost completely out of you. Before pushing back in.

You cried out, the sudden change in speed sending waves of pleasure through your body. He sped up, faster and faster, making you cry out louder and louder. He picked up the pace yet again, leaning down, letting his lips brush against the back of your neck. Having him take you from behind was heavenly. Everything from his slow movements, to the way he gripped your hips, was heaven sent.

"Baby..." He whispered, panting. "You feel amazing..."

He leaned in, grabbing both of your breasts as he continued to pump in and out of you, rubbing his own body against yours, the both of you connected. Your hair was now hanging loose, falling onto your shoulders. Your lips were open, your breath coming in short gasps. You tilted your head back, wanting him to kiss you.

His lips met yours as he increased the pace, slamming himself into you harder. Each thrust caused a loud groan to escape his lips.

Everything about this was pure ecstasy. Every single second was heaven. It was unlike anything you ever experienced. His touch was divine. The sound of his breathing, the taste of his lips, the weight of his body on top of you, it was indescribable. It was beyond words.

You felt complete. You felt whole.

"Fuck, Jae." You moaned. "I love you so much..."

"Say it again..." He moaned, kissing your neck as he picked up the pace. "Just say it again..."

You tightened your muscles around him, tightening the bond between you. "I love you...I love you so much, Jaehyun..."

"Oh god, I love you too, Y/N..." Jaehyun's grip on your hips got tighter as he began to pound into you, his hips working up and down at a frantic pace. His other hand wrapped around your breast, pinching your nipple. You moaned loudly, bucking your hips against him, meeting his thrusts. "So damn much..."

It took mere seconds for him to lose control. His orgasm racked his entire body as he filled you up with his cum, filling you up with something that made your heart soar. His body trembled as he rested his forehead on your back, letting out a soft moan. He placed gentle kisses on your back, caressing your skin. He wrapped his arms around you, snuggling you against him, kissing your neck tenderly. "I love you, Y/N...so goddamn much."

You woke up hours later, still wrapped in Jaehyun's arms. His face was buried in your neck, inhaling deeply, enjoying your scent. Smelling it with his nose, his tongue lightly lapping at your skin. "Mmmm...baby...smells so good."

You let out a quiet laugh, running your fingers through his messy hair. "Did I ever mention that I love you?"

His laughter rumbled in his chest. "You kept saying it so many times while we were fucking last night..."

"I know...but that doesn't mean I can't say it again." You giggled, shaking your head. "Especially since we're awake right now."

He raised his head, smirking at you. "Mhmm...I'll admit...it does feel good." He moved his lips to yours, planting soft kisses against your soft lips.

"Now, if only you'd stay here...in this bed..." You purred, trailing your fingers up his muscular thighs.

"Not gonna happen, Princess." He smiled, biting down gently on your lower lip. “I think the guys are waiting for us…”

“I know… But… Can we stay like this? Just for a little longer…?” You asked, almost whining, wishing he wouldn’t take his lips off yours.

“And hear Doyoung and Jungwoo complaining my ears off?” He teased. “Babe, I would kill to have sex with you all day and night long but I don't want to incur the wrath of Doyoung and Jungwoo."

"Oh, boo hoo." You frowned, before nipping at his lower lip. "But I can’t help it if I’m so horny for you.”

A low growl escaped Jaehyun's throat as he pinned you to the mattress. You laughed, moving your legs further apart to give him easier access to you.

After taking his fill of your body, he kissed his way back up your neck. When he reached your ear, he whispered, “If you keep doing that, I’ll just have to have you again right now.”

You moaned loudly, pushing your hips against his. He chuckled against your ear, trailing kisses down your jawline. When he finally broke away from you, he smiled lazily, gazing down at you lovingly. “Come on, Princess. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

You groaned. “Fine, but don’t blame me if I end up fucking the other two later.”

He grinned. “We'll see. Now get up.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you rose to your feet, grabbing his hand to pull him along with you. After freshening up, you opened the door to see Johnny with an exasperated look.

“Y/N, go take care of Doyoung or something.” Johnny muttered, running a hand through his hair. “The man has been depressed that you locked yourself up with Jaehyun and getting your brains fucked out all day.”

Jaehyun gave you a look. “See? I knew this was gonna happen.”

“Can’t help it that I was feeling horny and you were the only one home.” You kissed Jaehyun's cheek, making Johnny roll his eyes at you and let out a fake gag.

“Gross.” Johnny frowned. “I’d say get a room but you two just came out of it. Go deal with your other lover. I can’t deal with it.”

“Okay, okay.” You laughed, giving Jaehyun a farewell kiss before he departed with Johnny.

You found Doyoung sulking on the couch, flipping through the channels mindlessly. Looking at him, you couldn't help but laugh, seeing how uncomfortable he looked sitting there like that.

“Doyoung,” you plopped on the couch next to him, lacing your fingers with his. “Are you alright? You haven’t said a word since I got here.”

His eyes flashed towards you briefly before returning to the TV screen, shaking his head slightly.

“Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?” You asked carefully, afraid that maybe your constant need for sex with Jaehyun wasn’t appealing to the others anymore.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I mean, yeah, it is annoying, but I get it, really.” He sighed. “We both know how you get when you’re alone with him. It’s bound to drive you nuts eventually. But…”

“But?” You prompted, curious as to where this was going.

“I want you to want me too, Y/N.” He blurted out suddenly. “Just as much as you want Jaehyun and Jungwoo.”

Your eyes widened. “What? Of course I want you. Why would you ever doubt that?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe because we haven’t had sex in a while and it seems like when you do have sex, it’s only with Jaehyun or Jungwoo. I feel a bit left out.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung.” You frowned, placing your head on his shoulder. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have gone all crazy with Jaehyun today. I guess we kind of forgot to consider everyone else.”

He squeezed your fingers, his thumb rubbing against your knuckle softly. He leaned his head towards yours, catching your lips with his.

For a moment, the world melted away and there was only you and Doyoung, cuddling on the couch, each other's arms keeping you warm as you shared passionate kisses. You closed your eyes as he drew your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking softly. You hummed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His hands ran up and down your sides, stopping at your hip. He placed gentle kisses along your jawline, dragging his teeth lightly against your skin. Your heart was pounding rapidly as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping at your collar bone. You were practically squirming on the couch from the growing desire to have him. To have him in you.

“Can we…” You started breathlessly.

“Back to my new place?” Doyoung suggested, his voice all sensual and suggestive. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you there since I moved in.”

“Hell yes.” You answered quickly, pulling him off the couch. He stumbled slightly, laughing at your enthusiastic reaction. You watched as he gathered his things and you sent out a quick text to both Jaehyun and Jungwoo that you were heading to Doyoung’s apartment to have some alone time.

It took less than five minutes to reach Doyoung’s building, which said alot considering that you couldn’t keep your hands off him on the ride there. By the time you entered the elevator, you could barely hold yourself together. When the doors opened, Doyoung grabbed your hand and dragged you inside, closing the door firmly behind him.

He released your hand, looking straight at you. You tried to calm yourself, but you failed miserably, trembling uncontrollably as his eyes caressed every inch of your face.

“Why am I so nervous?” You mumbled. “We’ve done this plenty of times…”

Doyoung laughed, leaning down to capture your lips in another deep kiss. When he finally broke away from you, he looked at you intently. “Do you want me, Y/N?”

His question caught you completely off guard. How could he even ask such a question? Of course you wanted him. Every part of you craved his touch. But why did he have to ask? Wasn’t it obvious?

“Of course I want you, you gorgeous man.” You let out a breathless laugh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pushed your body against his, meeting his lips with yours. You kissed him passionately, reveling in the fact that he was here with you.

Finally alone.

“Let’s go.” Doyoung whispered hoarsely, breaking away from you, leading you to his bedroom. Once inside, he turned to face you, pinning you against the wall. His hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He murmured, trailing his nose along your jawline, smelling the faint scent of your perfume. “You smell so good…”

His tongue darted out to lick your lower lip, capturing it between his lips. You whimpered, pressing your chest tighter against his. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply.

God, you were intoxicating.

“You smell like strawberries.” He mumbled against your hair. “God, I’ve missed this smell. This smell always makes me want to eat you up.”

Before you could respond, he pulled away, sliding down your body until he was kneeling between your legs. With one hand, he unbuttoned your blouse, slowly undoing each button, kissing his way up your stomach until he reached your exposed breasts. The touch of his lips on your nipples made you shudder in anticipation.

“You taste amazing. So sweet.” He whispered against your skin, letting his fingers graze across your cleavage, causing goosebumps to break out across your body.

“God, I’ve missed you so much, Y/N.” He sighed, nibbling at your neck, drawing tiny circles on your skin. “I dream of you naked and writhing under me, begging me to make love to you. I miss how soft your skin feels against mine. And I miss hearing you moan my name as I enter you.”

He placed feather light kisses along your collarbone, tracing his fingers over your collarbone, moving slowly downwards.

“Mmmh…Doyoung.” You moaned, arching your back as he lowered his head, flicking his tongue against your nipple. A wave of pleasure rolled through your body as he gently sucked on your breast, teasing it with his tongue.

With his free hand, he pushed your shirt off your shoulders, leaving you completely exposed. You reached out to grasp his shoulders, squeezing them, to balance your legs before they gave out.

He laughed quietly, cupping your cheeks in his hands, staring into your eyes.

“Relax, baby.” He crooned softly. “I’ll be taking my sweet time tonight.”

“Promise?” You breathed. “Because god, Doyoung, I want you so badly.”

“I promise.” He whispered huskily, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips before slipping off his shirt.

Sex with Doyoung was different from sex with Jaehyun or Jungwoo. With Jaehyun, it was all rough and heavy and wild. With Jungwoo, it was all tender and sweet. Sex with Doyoung was somewhere in between those two extremes. Hot, hard, rough, yet also soft and slow. He always made sure that he went slow enough for you to savor every single moment of the experience, almost as if he were doing it just for you.

His lips traced a trail down your torso, stopping right above your lace panties.

“I see Jaehyun’s scent is still lingering on your skin.” He commented, tracing circles on your inner thigh with his index finger. “I guess I have to work extra hard to erase it. So you can have my scent all over you. Only you.”

His words sent shivers down your spine, causing your pussy to clench tightly.

“Y/N…” He whispered against your skin, biting down softly. “Please tell me what you want. What you need. Tell me how bad you want it. I won’t stop unless you tell me to. I want to hear it from you.”

You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second, desperate for him to touch you. Needing him to give you exactly what you needed. You cupped the back of his head, guiding his mouth to your pussy, feeling the sharp intake of air when his lips touched you.

“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his hands coming to rest on your ass, holding you firmly against him. “Show me how much you want it. Beg me. Say the words.”

“Doyoung…please…” You whimpered, pushing your hips towards his mouth. “I need you…I need you so fucking bad…”

You felt him push your panties to the side, exposing your dripping wet pussy to his hungry gaze. His tongue swept across your slit, causing a pleasurable ache to spread throughout your entire body.

“Ah!” You let out, your fingers gripping onto his hair as he licked and teased you mercilessly. “Oh god, Doyoung…don’t tease me…”

He chuckled softly, running his tongue along your slit, teasing you by not diving straight into your waiting pussy.

“Oh god…please…I need it…I need it so bad…” You moaned loudly, thrusting your hips against his mouth, making his tongue flick faster against your clit. “Doyoung…fuck…yes…yes…”

“Say my name again.” He groaned against your sensitive flesh, dipping his fingers inside you.

“Y-Yes, Doyoung…oh god…ah!” You cried out, the sensation of his fingers entering you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You began thrashing your hips against his mouth, grinding your clit against his tongue, trying to get more of his magic tongue inside you.

“Fuuuck…so wet…” He muttered, still teasing you, his fingers never going beyond the first knuckle. You bucked your hips against his hand harder, trying to find something deeper inside you.

Trying to find release.

But he wasn’t having any of that. Instead, he removed his hand from you, kissing his way up your body, nibbling on your earlobe.

“Don’t tease me, Doyoung. Please…just fuck me already.” You whined. “You know I need it. I’m dying here.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Want me to give it to you hard and fast? Or do you want me to take my time? Do you want me to tease you a little bit longer? Let you enjoy every single moment?”

“You can do whatever you want, you know that.” You replied. “Just please, Doyoung…give me what I need. I’m so fucking close.”

The devilish smirk that appeared on his face only fueled your desire further. Your heart started pounding wildly in your chest as you waited anxiously for him to give you what you desired most. You closed your eyes, imagining his thick cock plunging inside you. Imagine how tight your pussy would be around him, how it would burn when he sunk deeper and deeper inside you. You could practically feel him, taste him, smell him…you could imagine everything.

His hands at your waist, he lifted you up against the wall, pressing you harder against it, grinding himself against your soaked pussy. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

Your hands moved to grip his ass, squeezing it tightly.

He pulled away slightly, nibbling at your neck. “Tell me how much you want it, Y/N. Tell me how badly you need it.”

“God, Doyoung…I need it…I need you…please don’t make me wait any longer.” You begged. “Just give me what I need. Give me what I crave.”

“Anything for you, baby.” He breathed, lining his erection at your core. He slid into you slowly, filling you inch by inch. You moaned in pleasure, wrapping your arms around his neck, locking your legs around his waist, grinding against him, wanting him deeper inside you.

Even though you knew that Doyoung was as horny as you, the pace of his movements were slow, deliberate, making you focus on every single sensation. It was such an incredible feeling to know that he wanted to make sure you enjoyed every single moment. That he took his time with you because he wanted you to fully enjoy it.

His hips pushed forward once again, filling you even deeper with every stroke. Each movement caused waves of pleasure to roll through your body, taking you higher and higher with every inch that he sank into you.

Your lips met his, your breasts pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, your thighs tightening around his waist.

“I love you.” You murmured, gazing down at his beautiful face. “You know that, right?”

“Say it again.” He whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you, Doyoung.” You repeated, pressing another kiss against his lips.

“I love you too, baby.” He whispered back, nibbling on your lower lip. “I know you love Jaehyun and Jungwoo as well, but thank you for loving me too.”

Your smile grew wider as you gazed at his gorgeous face, your fingers playing with his soft black hair. The softness of his voice made you go weak in the knees. His dark brown eyes sparkled brightly with emotion. As if he was really thankful for you being with him.

That thought made your heart swell with happiness.

As if reading your mind, he tightened his hold on you, giving you a gentle squeeze before thrusting his hips forwards again.

Every single move he made, every single thrust he made, each time he ground against you and kissed you, he was showing you how grateful he was for you. How lucky he was to have you.

How much he loves you.

“Did you have fun with Doyoung-hyung last night?” Jungwoo asked, staring at you intently as you sat next to him on the couch, drinking your morning coffee. You had just come back to your apartment where you found Jungwoo pouting on your couch.

You raised an eyebrow, raising your cup to your lips, preparing to take a sip. “Why? Are you jealous?”

Jungwoo smirked, resting his chin on your shoulder. “No.”

“You wish.” You rolled your eyes, giving him a playful shove. “Don’t even deny it.”

“He told me he loves you.” He said casually. “And that you love him.”

“Uh huh. And?”

“Don’t you love me too, babe?” He questioned , giving you a small pout. “Can’t I have someone to wake up with and drink coffee with? Can’t I have someone who wants to cuddle with me and watch TV all day long? Don’t I deserve some affection and love as well? Why are you ignoring me?”

“Jungwoo, we just had sex a few days ago.” You rolled your eyes at him, a small smile on your lips. "How am I ignoring you?"

“Uh huh. But you didn’t tell me that you loved me.” He frowned. “I want to know. Are you sleeping with someone else or not?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his puppy dog eyes. You placed your cup on the table, turning to wrap your arms around his neck. “You know who I’m sleeping with. Stop being jealous, my big puppy.”

“Babe, seriously. I just want to know if you love me. I’m needy like that.” He pouted, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I need attention and love.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “I can’t believe out of you, Doyoung and Jaehyun, that you’re the biggest baby.”

“I’ll fight them both to have you.” He grumbled. “I’ll pretend to have a broken leg just so you’ll stay with me.”

“Stop being ridiculous.” You laughed, moving away from him. “If you really want to know, yes, I love you. I love all of you guys.”

“Really?” Jungwoo exclaimed. “Really? You love us all? Not just Doyoung?”

“Yes.” You nodded, smiling widely at him. “You, Jaehyun and Doyoung mean the world to me.”

Jungwoo smiled happily, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much.”

“You��re welcome. Now stop being so clingy and needy.” You chuckled, giving him a playful push. “Go to the practice rooms with the others. I’ll be fine.”

“But…but…” He mumbled, looking up at you.

“Come on, babe. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can find me in bed.” You grinned, grabbing his wrist, tugging him towards the door. “Or am I sleeping alone tonight?”

“Haha. No. I wouldn’t let that happen.” He replied, chuckling.

You grinned at him, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. “Good. Now get out there and have fun.”

“Y/N, seriously. I love you.” He declared, giving you one last lingering kiss before exiting the room.

You sighed contently, sitting down on the couch, sipping your coffee while watching him leave the room. Then you took a look around your apartment. Everything seemed so empty without the guys around. Just silence.

You pulled out your phone and saw the text from Doyoung wondering if you had gotten home safely and that he was going to head to the practice rooms. Another text message popped up, this time from Jaehyun, asking you how the date went and saying that he missed you. A final text message was from Jungwoo, telling you that he’d call you later during his break.

You smiled as you finished reading their messages.

You finished the last of your coffee, setting the cup aside before standing up and stretching.

It felt good to be home after such a long day. And it also felt nice knowing that all three of them were thinking about you.

You wandered into your bedroom to grab your towel so that you could go and take a shower. Once you were done, you dressed in your sweats, slipped your feet into your slippers, and made your way to the kitchen. After placing a bagel on the counter, you headed towards the living room to turn on the television, hoping that something good would be on today.

Suddenly, the sound of your front door opening startled you, causing you to jump and drop the remote onto the floor.

You spun around quickly, seeing Jungwoo walk through the door. “You're supposed to be at practice." You stated.

"I was gonna go," Jungwoo made his way to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. "But then I realized that it's not really important to be there. I would rather be here with you."

"Uh huh." You rolled your eyes, a smile on your lips. "And what would Doyoung and Jaehyun say if you skipped practice?"

Jungwoo hummed thoughtfully. "I guess they'd ask why I'm skipping practice. Then I'd tell them that I want to spend more time with you."

You looked up at him curiously, feeling warm all over. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to yours. "Is my Jungwoo still jealous?"

"Always." He winked.

"Ah." You grinned, lips close to his. "So instead of practice..."

Jungwoo responded by closing the distance between the two of you, giving you a long, deep kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

You moaned softly as his tongue slid along your lips, pressing kisses to your mouth, leaving behind tingles everywhere. Your hands ran through his hair, holding onto his thick strands.

He smelled good. Ridiculously good. Like fresh air and sunshine. Or maybe it was just his natural scent mixed with the fresh fragrance of soap and shampoo that he used. Whatever it was, it drove you wild.

You broke the kiss, panting lightly, letting out a moan when you felt his hands running along your back, down your spine. "Jungwoo, you smell so good."

"Yeah?" He hummed in response, kissing you passionately once again. "Baby, you always smell good. It makes me wanna eat you up."

"What is up with you and others always wanting to eat me up?" You laughed softly, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"I love food." He giggled. "Just saying. Plus you taste good."

"Mmmm...I better taste good." You laughed, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Trust me, babe. You do." He groaned, tugging at your sweater, trying to pull it off of your body. "God, I can't wait to feel your naked skin pressed against mine."

You leaned in to bite his bottom lip, hearing him moan. That sent shivers throughout your body, making you feel weak in the knees.

His fingers reached under your sweater, touching bare skin, causing you to let out a gasp. His other hand rubbed up and down your back, slowly working its way down your spine. All you wanted to do was crawl onto his lap, lose yourself in his touch and let him explore every inch of your body.

Your whole body trembled as you felt his fingertips run along your bare stomach. Then, he slowly moved his hand up, lifting your sweater higher, exposing more of your skin. Your breathing hitched, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the emotions that surged through your body.

His lips returned to yours, nibbling on your bottom lip gently, pushing your sweater up a bit further. He pulled away from you, breathing heavily, almost like he was out of breath.

"Oh shit." He muttered. "I'm so turned on right now."

"Yeah?" You breathed out, a smile on your lips. "Me too."

"You want to fuck?" He whispered, grabbing your wrist, tugging you towards the sofa.

You laughed loudly. "Was there a reason to ask? You know I'd never turn you down."

"Damn straight." He grinned, sitting on the sofa and pulling you towards him. You stood between his spread legs, his hands still delving under your sweater, brushing against bare skin.

You arched your back, moaning softly when his fingers ran across your skin. You reached for the hem of your sweater and pulled it up over your head, throwing it somewhere in your living room. You unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts, nipples erect and hard. You watched Jungwoo's eyes grow wider with each second, biting down on your lower lip as you watched him lick his lips. He grabbed hold of your hips, pulling you forward, his hands sliding your sweats and panties down your thighs, leaving you completely naked.

"Jesus." He murmured, taking a moment to admire your naked body. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. His eyes were glued to your breasts, watching them rise and fall with each rapid breath you took.

Then, he leaned in to place soft kisses on your breast, circling your nipple with his tongue. You whimpered quietly, biting down on your lip. His teeth grazed against your nipple, causing goosebumps to form all over your body.

"Jungwoo..." You groaned, arching your back even further. "Jungwoo, please..."

His tongue moved up to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. His teeth clamped down gently, drawing a small cry from you. His tongue flicked back and forth across your nipple, causing you to buck your hips forward, rubbing against his erection.

Jungwoo sat up, still licking and sucking on your breasts. He placed his palms on your ass, lifting you up, until you were straddling him. He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you tightly against him, grinding against your wetness.

You felt him grow hard beneath you and reached out to unbutton his pants, needing to feel him inside of you. You helped him shimmy out of his pants, kicking them aside.

"You know I can’t be the only one naked, right?” You straddled him and slipped your hands up his shirt. You felt him tighten his grip on your ass, pulling you closer to him. “Take your shirt off, babe.”

Jungwoo reached for the hem of his shirt, raising it above his head. His hair fell freely, giving him an even sexier appearance. His lips met yours in another searing kiss, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like honey and berries. You couldn't get enough of him.

"Ahhh..." You moaned, breaking away from the kiss, shaking your head. "God, Jungwoo."

He delved his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply. "God, you smell so good. Like strawberries. God damn, I want to bury my face in your neck and inhale you."

"God, you always do this to me." You chuckled, planting small kisses along his jawline, your hand grasping his cock firmly.

"Mmm, baby, are you trying to kill me?" He groaned, holding his head up. "I swear I'll die if you keep doing that."

"So you'll die once you're in me?" You teased him, running your fingers down the length of his shaft, eliciting a groan from him.

"Yes." He nodded, kissing you tenderly on the lips. "Every single fucking time."

"I'll have to remember that." You laughed, sitting back on his lap, allowing him to enter you slowly. He filled you completely, your bodies pressed together, skin touching skin. His hands left your ass, gripping your waist, holding you against him. You moved with him, letting him control the pace. Every thrust sent pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to moan in pleasure.

"Baby..." He groaned, rocking against you, pushing deeper inside of you. "Ah, fuck!"

"Do you like it?" You asked, your breasts pushed up against his face. "Tell me."

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, giving it gentle bites with his teeth. You gasped, bucking your hips against him, causing his hands to tighten their grip on your waist.

You rocked against him harder, watching his facial expressions change as you pleasured him. The look of pure bliss on his face made you want to ride him faster, but he slowed his movements, urging you to continue.

He kissed your shoulder, trailing kisses down your neck, leaving you gasping in pleasure. His tongue dipped below your earlobe, causing chills to ripple through your body. Your hands grasped his hair, holding him tighter against you, reveling in the feelings flowing through your body.

When he moved his lips to your collarbone, gently nibbling on your flesh, you moaned loudly, riding him harder, desperate to come.

"Fuck, Jungwoo, fuck..." You cried out, clutching his head to you, digging your nails into his scalp.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Like a fucking angel, you know that?"

"Mmhm." You agreed, gasping as his teeth sank into your skin.

He held you close to him, keeping the same rhythm, driving you crazy. You moaned loudly, his name falling from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, thrusting inside of you, sending pleasure streaking through your body.

"Come on, baby." He urged you. "Let go. Come with me."

He picked up speed, stroking inside of you faster, bringing you closer to the edge. You moaned his name, tilting your head back, your hair cascading down your shoulders. With one final push, Jungwoo buried himself inside of you, thrusting as deep as he could, you screaming his name as you came.

You cried out Jungwoo's name again and again, shuddering uncontrollably as waves of pleasure swept through your body. You opened your eyes to see Jungwoo staring down at you, smiling softly. You smiled back, caressing his cheek.

"I love you, Jungwoo." You said, burying your face in his chest. "Thank you."

He leaned in to give you a soft kiss. "I love you, baby."

A few days later

You peeked your head into the practice room, the nearest back-up dancer jumping slightly in surprise before giving you a small greeting. You sneakily made your way towards the couch where NCT's manager was sitting, carefully placing your belongings down next to you.

"Oppa," you leaned towards him. "How long have they been practicing?"

"About an hour or so." He looked over at the three members still practicing. "You haven't heard the song yet, right? Why don't you stay and watch?"

"You sure?" You asked. "I don't want to be a bother."

He laughed. "I'm sure the guys will be happy when they see you."

You smiled softly, settling back on the couch. When Haechan told you that Doyoung, Jaehyun and Jungwoo were forming a unit, you knew, oh you definitely knew, that no matter what the song was, they would exude their sensual charms.

You shifted in your seat, watching as Doyoung's sweet voice rang through the room, followed by Jaehyun's masculine tone and then finally Jungwoo's silky voice. You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip when you heard the lyrics that expressed leaving perfume behind on a lover so that they could not forget them. And who wouldn't love that? It sounded incredibly sexy and intimate, exactly how you pictured the lyrics.

You couldn't help but take a deep breath while you watched your boys dance. They certainly had the moves, so many different ones to suit each member. After a few minutes, you found yourself humming along with them. Your eyelids started to feel heavy, making you wish you had a pillow to rest your head on.

"Alright, guys." The manager announced, snapping you out of your trance. "That's enough for today. If I keep you guys any longer, someone will get angry."

You rolled your eyes playfully, standing up from the couch as you watched him walk out of the room with the dancers. "Oppa!"

Jaehyun enveloped you in a hug when he heard your voice. "Where've you been hiding yourself?"

You giggled. "Sitting here with your manager while you practiced."

"What did you think?" Doyoung asked, threading his fingers through yours. "Are we okay?"

You bit your lip. "I loved it." You squeezed his hand. "I can't wait to hear it live."

Jungwoo laughed. "You really enjoyed watching us practice?"

"I enjoyed all the aspects." You said, looking at all three of them. "Your voices, your dancing, everything. But what I really enjoyed..."

"Hmm?" They asked, eyeing you curiously.

"The lyrics." You smiled teasingly at them. "Makes me think that you all haven't really left your scents behind, if you catch my drift."

"Oh?" Jaehyun asked, his lips awfully close to yours. "Is that so?"

You bit your bottom lip. "I guess that means you have more work to do..."

"On you?" Doyoung asked, running his finger down your arm.

"I mean...your practice..." You clarified, laughing nervously.

Jaehyun grinned wickedly, slowly walking towards you. He brushed his thumb against your lower lip, catching it between his thumb and index finger, tugging lightly. "What are you saying, baby?"

You couldn't help but suck on his thumb, tasting its sweetness on your tongue. "If you leave your scent behind for me..."

"How?" He breathed, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. "Shall I give you a sample?"

"Please..." You breathed, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

Jungwoo let out a laugh, tugging on your hand. "Why don't we all go home and figure out how to leave our scents behind for her."

You let out a quiet gasp as he led you out of the practice room, dragging Jaehyun and Doyoung with him. It took but minutes to reconvene to your apartment since your apartment was only a few minutes walk from the company.

Once you were all inside the living room, sitting on the couches, Doyoung grabbed your hips, pulling you onto his lap. "So how are we leaving our scents behind for you, Y/N?"

You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder. "Surprise me. Let's see what happens tonight."

Jaehyun stared at the spot where you'd been sitting just moments ago, licking his lips hungrily. "Don't worry, baby."

You grinned, getting up from his lap and plopping down on Jaehyun's lap. He threw his arms around you, cradling you against his chest. "We'll make sure to give you something worth remembering."

Jaehyun lifted you in his arms and made his way to your bedroom, the other two following closely behind.

"My bed, your bed, it doesn't matter which one." You winked. "As long as we're together, it's all the same. Now leave your scents on me so that I don't ever forget you."

Jaehyun threw you on the bed before crawling on top of you. "We'll leave them on your wrist, your collarbone, wherever you like."

You pulled him down for a kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours, tasting every inch of your mouth, his hand coming up to run through your hair. He broke away, tracing the outline of your face with his fingers.

"I'll leave them everywhere." He promised. "Everywhere you want."

Jungwoo sat down next to you, cupping your face gently. "Whatever you need, whatever you desire, we'll provide."

"Anything you want." Doyoung repeated. "It's all about you, after all."

Jaehyun placed his lips against yours once again, whispering against your mouth. "I hope you're ready for us, Y/N. We won't disappoint you."

The three boys nodded before getting up from the bed. All you could do was watch them silently, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as anticipation surged through your veins.

"Remember," Doyoung called over his shoulder, pulling his shirt off. "No inhibitions, nothing holds us back. We'll leave our scents all over you, our fingerprints all over you. Every little piece of us will be imprinted on your skin, making sure that no one else has you but us."

Jaehyun ran his hands over his abs, his muscles flexing underneath his touch. "And the scent of our sweat will linger in your sheets, permeating the fabric, leaving behind the most intimate smell. Nothing will make you forget us like that."

"Then why are we wasting time?" Jungwoo asked, unbuckling his belt. "We should start marking our territory now, before you have a chance to forget us."

With that, they quickly stripped off their clothes, completely naked, standing there with only their confidence for protection. Jungwoo's long fingers removed your clothes, throwing them aside as he made his way down your body, kissing you along the way. He crawled back up, kissing you hard.

Doyoung trailed hot kisses down your neck, biting your neck softly, sucking it gently before moving up to lick the sensitive skin under your ear.

Jaehyun lowered himself between your legs, trailing kisses from your thighs to your pussy, flicking your clit with his tongue, nibbling on it lightly.

You let out a low moan, moaning his name as he licked your folds. He lapped up your juices before diving into your depths, swirling his tongue around your clit, taking it between his teeth, drawing out a sharp cry from you.

Jungwoo worked his magic on your nipples, gently pinching them between his fingers, sending a bolt of electricity straight to your core.

Doyoung continued to kiss down your neck, reaching your collarbone, gently biting your flesh.

You felt the heat rise within you, ready to explode, and you tightened your legs around Jaehyun's head, bucking against his tongue, wanting more.

"Jaehyun...oh god." You moaned, tugging at his hair.

"Not yet, baby." He moaned. "Stay still. Let me show you what I'm going to do to you."

You bit your bottom lip, trying to control yourself. "Please. Jaehyun, please..."

"Just relax, baby." He whispered. "Let us drive you crazy. Just close your eyes and let go."

With that, Jaehyun took his fingers and slid them inside of you, stretching you wide, loosening you up for him. He rubbed his fingers over your clit, stroking it gently, causing you to let out another moan.

Jaehyun breathed against your inner thigh. "We're gonna make this last as long as possible."

He didn't waste any time, working his tongue in and out of you, using his fingers on your clit, stimulating you until you were practically begging for release.

"Tell me how much you want it, baby." He whispered. "Say the words."

You whimpered. "Fuck me. Please fuck me."

"Do you want us, Y/N?" Jungwoo asked. "Are you ready for us to leave our scents on you?"

"Do you want us to fill all your holes?" Doyoung added. "Fill you up with all our cum?"

"Fuck yes." You cried, shaking your head frantically. "Fuck yes."

Jaehyun laid on the bed as you crawled on top of him, lowering yourself down on him. His thick cock slipped inside of you, filling you up completely. You sighed happily, closing your eyes as you began to ride him, feeling him growing even harder inside of you.

"Oh fuck yeah." You moaned. "Jaehyun, fuckkkk."

He wrapped his arms around you, locking you to him as you moved on top of him, your breasts bouncing against his chest.

"Look at you riding me." He moaned, gripping your ass tightly. "Feels good, doesn't it? Feels real good, babe."

You shook your head, raising yourself up and sliding back down on him. "Too fucking good."

Doyoung let out a groan as he watched you bounce on Jaehyun. He was stroking his own cock and when you gestured to him, he happily obliged, guiding his dick to your ass, gently pushing it inside of you. You let out a loud moan as Doyoung slowly pushed himself into you, moving in and out of you in perfect rhythm with Jaehyun.

"Baby, don't forget me." Jungwoo muttered, his dick against your cheek. "I need to feel your mouth on me."

You leaned forward, placing your hands on his thighs, giving him access to your mouth, allowing him to push his dick into your mouth, letting you slide your lips up and down his shaft, feeling him grow even harder as you gave him pleasure.

"You're so turned on, aren't you babe?" Jungwoo asked, your head bobbing up and down on his dick. "You're sucking me so good and I'm sure both Doyoung and Jaehyun is giving your ass and pussy a good pounding. So fucking hot."

You hummed around his dick, trying to keep pace with the other two as they fucked you senseless. You loved being used like this by these three men. They knew exactly what they were doing and each man had their own special way of making you come. Each time was better than the last.

"I love how loud you get when you come, baby." Doyoung whispered against your ear, rubbing your clit with his thumb. "That sound drives me insane."

Jaehyun grunted, his hands cupping your breasts roughly, squeezing your nipples between his fingers. "Come for us, Y/N. Come all over us. Let us know that we're making you feel good."

"Let go, baby." Jungwoo urged, gripping your head against his cock.

"Shit, let's all just come together." Doyoung gasped, pressing against you hard. "Fuck."

Your moans became louder, echoing in the small apartment, mixed with the sounds of sex and moans. The four of you moved in unison, groaning as you came together. Your eyes rolled back into your head as a loud cry escaped your throat, signaling your orgasm.

Jungwoo's dick popped out of your mouth, his semen coating your body. Both Jaehyun and Doyoung emptied themselves into your pussy and ass, simultaneously filling you to the brim.

Doyoung collapsed tirelessly on the bed next to Jaehyun, completely spent.

"That was amazing." You panted, lying on top of Jaehyun, his arms tightening his hold on you. "You guys really did a number on my body. Fuck, I can't believe how full I am right now."

"Fuck, I'm completely exhausted." Doyoung let out as the others laughed.

"You look exhausted." Jaehyun chuckled, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face. "Why don't we all shower and then head to bed?"

"Yeah, a shower would probably help." Jungwoo agreed. "And maybe, just maybe, we can have round 2 in the shower."

You laughed loudly, resting your head against Jaehyun's chest. "I think I'd like that."

#nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct dojaejung #nct doyoung #nct jaehyun #nct jungwoo #doyoung #jaehyun #jungwoo #dojaejung #doyoung smut #jungwoo smut #jaehyun x reader

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cloveroctobers · 4 months ago

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MONOPOLY — Armando Aretas [September Prompts] 🩶

A/N: I guess I’m remaining in my Armando writing bag but this was a request from: @dasaniswrlddd & this is mostly a Drabble small work that was also inspired by my boys who’s EP you should check the rest out after reading. It’s only fitting 😉 & you’re welcome!

S/N: the request included Armando dating an older woman, he’s twenty-eight so maybe the reader is thirty-eight? Forty’s? or as old as you are if you’re a older reader lol + mentions of a certain character from the film, “Rebel Ridge,” IYKYK 😉 + a little 🌶️ in there somewhere!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: ¹³⁾ frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise + ²⁰⁾ rich vanilla perfume.

SYNOPSIS: Armando’s not as good at hiding his feelings for you.

<- read my previous September anthology prompt here.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

when Armando was informed that you got hurt out in Italy, he made it his mission to get on the next flight. AMMO was working on a case that would require them to fly out there by the end of the week so he just went earlier, despite the knowing look detective Mike sent his way.

He knows his son became fond of you quickly once they worked with your team, although Armando tried to hide it, it became obvious to Mike. Watching Armando analyze every move you made with admiration and how you commanded orders within your own team. When your team got involved that meant it was more than serious and Secada always made your team the last option if AMMO needed back up. Things tended to get reckless in the moment but you always made sure to clean up well.

Over the last few years you haven’t been getting your hands as dirty, something Armando overheard you sharing with Secada and Detective Lowrey, having your team do most of the work while you supervised but that didn’t mean you forgot everything that you’ve learned. Which is why you have a dagger jammed up right against Armando’s throat, bag of frozen peas dropped to both of your feet as you had Armando pressed up against the wall of the villa out in Collesano.

“Armando,” you stated, “did you really think it was the best idea to sneak up on me?”

He lowers his raised hands, “that wasn’t really my intent.”

“Find that hard to believe.”

“…so you don’t trust me now?” He questioned while peering at you underneath his eyelashes and brimmed hat.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

Armando exhales at this. He doesn’t take it personal since it was someone on your team that ended up being a rat in the first place. Setting you up to be killed while also murdering one of your members you were closest to in cold blood and the way the rest of your team was ambushed, was the ultimate betrayal so he understood where this was coming from.

“Then why am I not dead yet?” His low voice inquires.

You smirked as you lowered the dagger, “the night is still young.”

Armando can’t help but to roll his eyes as you step back from him but he can’t help but to reach forward and pinch your chin, turning your face to the side as he viewed the damage done to your face first. He feels his jaw tighten at the long scar that traveled from the bottom of your ear to the curve of your jaw. It was the beginning of the symbol of an Italian gang here, blade pulled just right to begin the markings of an, “X,” in cursive but they didn’t get to finish the job.

Yet this would scar in more ways than one.

“Be a doll and grab those peas for me?” Your attempt to bring Armando’s attention elsewhere was noted as his eyes flicked back to yours for a moment, silently telling you that he wanted details and he was going to get them from your mouth instead of Secada’s and Mike’s.

He lowers himself, eyes locked on yours still as he reaches for the frozen bag, “where?”

You take the peas and place them underneath your shirt, where Armando gets a peek of your ribcage wrapped in a white bandage. He exhaled at that, relieved that you actually went to the hospital to get checked out. He knew how much you dreaded those visits.

You’re leaning against the island for support, as you take most of the pressure from standing upright and shift to your right—where there’s no bruising on that side of your ribs. “So…what brings you to Collesano? Did you finally decide that you needed a change of scenery from Miami and Mexico City?”

Armando gives you a deadpan glance as he fires back, “I never would have pictured Italy as a place to live low for you. Tell me, when did you buy this property?”

You scoff, stiffly shifting to grab that hard liquor that’s waiting in the square glass for you. Throwing it back with clenched eyes you respond, “Maybe I’m borrowing it.”

“From who?” Armando crossed his arms, “Terry?” He almost spits out the man’s name, which makes you quirk up a brow.

You start, “I’m not…doing this with you tonight so if you came here to brood or whatever—I’m not here for it.”

Armando stepped to you then, “I came here to be with you, no bullshit. Got here as fast as I could. Something the other guy isn’t even here doing.”

Sighing you dip your head as Armando has his heated stare locked only on you, “…while I appreciate that…I can take care of myself, thank you. I’m grown.”

“That you are,” Armando unapologetically scans his eyes over your frame before settling comfortably back on your face, “but there’s nothing wrong with letting someone in from time to time.”

“You should take your own advice, Aretas.” You huffed, as you searched his eyes, making him blink his own stare away as he rubbed at his beard in annoyance.

He was aware of what you were getting at. You’ve been around to see his interactions with Detective Mike Lowrey, even worked with him and Marcus previously when you first got your team together. Mike was certainly a ladies man and was damn good at his job…a little sloppy at times but as well as you knew Mike, you genuinely believed if he knew about Armando, he would have made an effort to be there even if it was painfully awkward. That was a conversation that was just as old as Armando’s opinion on “the other guy,” you were legally married to.

That’s right, you were technically spoken for.

To keep it simple it was a MACP thing really and a story for a different time!

“Yeah well clearly the both of us have the patience.” He states, his gaze going back to the scar on your face, “I’ll be back.”

Sarcastically you say, “aw but you just got here!”

Armando snorts as he starts backing away, “don’t worry mami, I’m not goin’ too far but try not to miss me too much.”

He winks.

“Oh, Please.” You scoff, turning to pour yourself another shot.

When Armando returns, it really wasn’t that long as you just managed to sit yourself up at the high chair by the island counter. That was a a job within itself thanks to your bruised ribs and you knew you could have easily picked one of the many couches in this villa, preferably the two seat sofa that’s right by the open window next to the kitchen but of course you liked to be difficult.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you feel Armando’s hands dig into your tense shoulders from behind. He gets a light whiff of your vanilla perfume, it’s usually potent—rich—enough that it lingers in the air whenever you’re near. Right now it’s faint but it still makes him want to trail his nose up the slope of your neck.

“Hey,” he begins, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

Looking over your shoulder, the exhaustion has settled on your face and in that moment it almost shocks Armando that you don’t put up a fight. He holds onto your hand as you take your time getting down from the chair, a firm but gentle hold goes around your waist as he leads the way to the full bath he managed to find on the first level of the home.

The water is steaming and just what you needed. Armando was always onto you and knew the moment he caught sight of you tonight, he no problem providing. You manage to peel your clothes off and Armando’s concern is all over his face once he gets to see the black, blue, and purple bruises with your back turned to him. Those weren’t the only ones on your beautiful body but the ones on your ribs were the most upsetting.

He regains his composure, springing forward to help lower you into the water, head going right back against the pillow along the tub. Your eyes are closed and he almost coached you to sleep, running the pad of his thumb against the apple of your cheek. He was falling deep and he only had himself to blame if you ever broke his heart.

Part of him believes you won’t.

This has been going on long enough for Armando to have faith in whatever this was. Even when he was locked up, your connection never seemed to falter. Call him a fool but Armando was certain he’s never felt this kind of a way about anybody before you.

He’ll cater to you and sure you’ll give him a hard time, initially finding it all fun and dangerous games at first but that all shifted pretty quickly although in Armando’s mind, it felt like forever for you to admit your truth.

That you were feeling him more than you wanted to too. Which is why you allowed him to stay with you, help you bathe and briefly come to terms with what all transpired, even if you tried to block it out.

Even when you laid on top of him afterwards in one of the foreign bedrooms, he didn’t let go of you as you listened to the thud of his heartbeat and he took on the weight of you, all of it because he loved you—even if you didn’t want to hear him say it.

You felt it then and even more now that he came all this way for you.

The both of you wouldn’t be getting any sleep due to past traumas but that was left in the dark of the room. There’s buzzing that fills the heavy silence, you reach out clicking on the phone to silence it before flipping it back over.

“That could be important.” Armando mumbled.

‘Could be your husband,’ He thinks to himself.

You sniff, shifting to rest your chin onto the back of your hand, “Nothing else is important right now.”

“Yeah?” Armando quizzes, tucking his own chin to look at you, heart beating even harder now underneath your hands.

Wincing you lean forward, lips hovering over his, “Yeah.”

That was all the confirmation Armando needed as he moves to cradle your head and quickly places his lips right on yours. There’s a sigh of relief that escaped your lips as you both go into a battle trying to take the lead, which makes you laugh and a usual faint dimple appear on one side of Armando’s cheek. It’s when his tongue touches yours and he gets a nice grip on your ass with both hands that the humor fizzles away.

Armando’s attentive as you slowly take your place on top, hands gripping your hips against the silk night slip that you’re in now. “You sure you should be—

He starts but one move, has his hold digging into your hips, his head thrown back while biting down on his bottom lip. A laugh escapes your lips and Armando has to peek at you while he soaks in the real feel of you, your hair is a curtain around your face shape and the smirk on your face picks at his ego but he can’t complain and say he isn’t fond of this position.

“What was that?” You tease, “Don’t worry about me baby, I got you.”

Armando has to remind himself to breathe and you haven’t moved yet. His suddenly damp hands slip against the material of your nightwear, but he had to watch as he slides it back. That image alone makes a grunt spill from his lips and that’s enough to let you continue but Armando is always ready for your games.

When you separate just enough, he gains leverage himself, angling his own hips upwards while choosing to guide your hips downwards this time, erupting a pretty noise from your mouth. It’s his turn to smirk up at you, when you snap your attention back to his eyes while you fall over. Your elbows are beside his head now since sitting upright wouldn’t work at this time and especially with Armando’s own move he just pulled.

“Hi.” He smiles at you.

You scowl, “pendejo.”

That scowl releases when he places a lingering kiss right above where your new scar is. Gently he flips you both over and gazed at you so lovingly that some might say it was too much to bear.

It’s a pecking fight between your lips while Armando is on his knees but you can fight dirty when you want to and that gets him to move against you. Rocking you into the bed and loving you properly just like you knew he could.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

Continue with my September anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #Armando Aretas #armando aretas lowrey #armando aretas x reader #jacob scipio #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #September prompts #requests #queued

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sungbeam · 2 months ago

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𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — part two

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear. also it's not as intense lol), comedy, suspense/mystery, swearing (a lot... sorry 😭), drinking, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of chronic illness, mentions of rituals and pentagrams, self induced soulmates? 🤔 but ofc 😂, kissing, mentions of blood, very small amount of violence (like one scene), what is a mfking slow burn like who needs to take their time w falling in love i sure don't 🤷🏻‍♂️, one allusion to death

▷ part word count. 18.5k out of 34.8k / read part one here

a/n: HI IF UR STILL HERE THEN YAY 😭 PLS DONT READ THIS WITHOUT HAVING READ THE FIRST PART. ALSO, ENJOY!

PART IV: THE SPELL

THERE WERE ONLY SO many ways to make a boy squirm. On top of that, there were only so many ways to make a demon boy squirm. Halfling status was of no consequence to certain observations of patterns involving the laws of attraction.

Case in point: Ji Changmin's dilemma.

“You look a little lost, man,” Hyunjae chortled into his friend's ear to bypass the bone-rattling volume of the house music.

Shuhua's friend Yangyang had thrown quite the rager in his shared house with his roommates. There was probably about a hundred people shoved into the first floor of the house, with some littered across the lawn outside and the backyard, too. The five of you had arrived as a unit and donated a few cases of beer to help the hosts out, but proceeded to grab your own drinks, disperse, and mingle.

Changmin coughed as he blinked furiously out of whatever daze he'd been in. His neck and ears had turned a brilliant shade of vermilion, but the dim lighting was his savior tonight. Oh, to have the shadows on one's side. “What?” he stammered.

Hyunjae's smile widened at his flustered reaction. “I'm sure Yn can introduce you to whoever her friend is.”

The roaring in Changmin's ears dulled considerably. “What?” he repeated, but this time, the word had an upward intonation at the end. Now he was confused.

He glanced back to where you were standing further into the living room. Who?

Oh.

Changmin hadn't even noticed you'd been talking to another person. His focus had been… elsewhere. Not that said focus was anywhere inappropriate in the name of Friendship—of course, the burn in his throat was the alcohol and the tightness in his chest was the soul-bond. That was all. He hadn't been considering the dress hugging your figure or the way your smile brightened your face—no, really it was the entire fucking room. He didn't want to linger on the thought of that torturous car ride over either, with his body pressed against your side and your perfume so sweet in his lungs. Was it possible to replace the very air he breathed with it?

Essentially: he was not faring well tonight. What had gotten into him? He'd attended plenty of parties with you before, and he hadn't been this strung up before.

Or maybe he had… he wasn't so sure of a lot of things at this moment. He wasn't supposed to be able to get tipsy on this human alcohol.

Only a week had passed since the soul bond was forged between you and him, too. Though he knew it was supposed to be an emotional and metaphysical link, he was certain it had nothing to do in terms of creating things that were never there in the first place.

Hyunjae grinned at him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Come on! We should go introduce ourselves.”

For a moment, Changmin cringed at the thought of him appearing beside you with all the swagger he knew he lacked. He took a deep inhale and glanced back over at you… something in his mind flipped like a switch. “You know what? Sounds like a plan,” he said to Hyunjae, plastering a typical dimpled smile on his face.

The two of them maneuvered their way over to your position. As he gained proximity, the tightening in his chest gradually loosened, a rope slackening. Despite the loosening, it didn't mean the weight had gone away. The weight filled him with something comforting like his heart and lungs weren't alone in his ribcage.

He kept his eyes glued to you as he and Hyunjae neared.

You must have felt his gaze because you turned around to meet his eyes soon enough. There was a dilation in those pretty eyes and a smile that reached them.

“What have you been up to?” Changmin shouted to you over the music as he sidled up beside you. Your shoulders brushed against one another and he fought the urge to pull your form to his.

“Nothing much,” you chirped back, sharing his grin. You gestured to your talking companion. “This is Leona, by the way! She's a friend of Indigo's.”

Changmin finally pulled his eyes away from you. Leona, as you had introduced, was not someone he recognized. He didn't know many of Indigo's friends, but she smiled at him widely. “Nice to meet you!” she said.

“Nice to meet you, too. I'm Changmin,” he nodded back.

“And I'm Hyunjae,” his friend chimed in, raising a hand in greeting. “Did you come with Indigo then?”

Leona nodded her head. “I did! She went to go find Juyeon, so I'm not sure where they are now, but Yn found me wandering and we've been chatting since.” She flicked her attention back over to Changmin, and he cocked his head at the sight of something peculiar. He could have sworn there was a flash of electric blue in her eyes.

“Are you a student here?” he asked. He couldn't have imagined the blue, could he? But if she was a friend of Indigo's, then there was a good chance he hadn't.

“No, I'm from out east by Blue Brook,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm just in town for a couple of days visiting with my, uh, sisters.”

No, Changmin was certain now. Leona was a member of Indigo's coven. Blue Brook was where Indigo was from, and it was well-known amongst the supernatural community in this state as a witch's county. There were probably a dozen or so covens in that one area, but Indigo's was one of the largest. And if Leona was a witch, that meant…

Leona arched her brows at him expectantly. Demon? she mouthed.

Changmin stiffened beside you, and your head whipped over to him when you read her lips, too.

You swiftly turned to Hyunjae. “Hey! I'd love a drink, Jae. Let's go get one!”

Hyunjae's eyes widened as you snatched up his wrist and started hauling him in the direction of the kitchen. “Wha—hello? Bye, I guess?” he laughed in disbelief, sending a wink at Changmin through it.

Changmin pressed his lips together. He knew why you had taken Hyunjae away, but that didn't mean he liked it. Should it not be his wrist you were holding?

“She knows?” Leona's voice tore him out of whatever jealous stupor he was in. That cloud had returned to his head, the tightening to his chest.

He held his hand to his brow. “Yes,” he sighed. “Is there a reason you needed to make it so obvious?”

She shrugged innocently. “He didn't notice.”

“He could've.”

Leona wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, loosen up. I forget that folks outside of heavily concentrated paranormal centers are so uptight about their identities. It's your heritage, for goddess's sake.”

“You mean you forget that you're privileged enough to live in a highly concentrated paranormal area,” he nearly snarled back at her. Adrenaline rushed into his veins with an uncontrollable velocity and bite. He wouldn't have gotten so worked up about this normally, but he already accepted that tonight was likely going to be filled with the irregular. “If you said it even louder than a whisper, that could've put you, me, and her in danger.”

Especially with some lunatic running around targeting demons with energy-draining curses, he couldn't be too safe.

The witch made a face. “I guess I know why Indigo's no fun now, too. No wonder you're friends…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes found someone behind Changmin.

Changmin peered back over his shoulder and locked eyes with a familiar face in the crowd. Indigo's dark eyes widened considerably at the sight of him before she began shoving her way through partygoers to reach him. He raised his arm up like a flag to signal where he floated in the ocean of people.

The crowd quite literally spit the poor thing out and she had to grapple onto his arm. “Where'd she go?” she exhaled out, head on a swivel.

“She's right—” Not here…? The place where Leona had been right beside him was vacated, as if she hadn't been there at all. Why did she run from Indigo?

“Changmin.” There was a desperate strain behind Indigo's voice as she wrestled his collar with her hands and dragged him down to look her right in the eyes to ensure he was listening. “Leona has been releasing empitachynsia synthios in the party. I don't know exactly where, but I found one broken flask of it on the second floor with Juyo.”

Empitachynsia synthios? In the Old Language most covens grew up learning, that term translated directly to ‘acceleration of emotion.’ Based on the vague knowledge Changmin boasted on potions, empitachynsia synthios was a potent liquid that turned into vapor when exposed to oxygen, affecting those who inhaled it by escalating their emotions to alarming proportions.

Changmin's eyes went as big as Indigo's. “She fucking drugged the party with an airborne stimulant?”

“Just the second floor,” Indigo corrected with a grimace, but she released the vice grip on his shirt collar. “I managed to convince Juyeon that it was someone's dropped perfume bottle, but I left him with Lee Minho on the porch to clear his airways.”

Changmin's head swam. Lee Minho—black cat spirit—okay, then Juyeon was fine. He dragged his hands through his hair with a groan. “Hell, if I had known, I wouldn't have turned away from her like that. Sorry, Indigo.”

“No, no, it's my fault for letting her come at all,” she dismissed with an anxious flick of her wrist, then flexed her fingers to crack her knuckles. “She's been acting strangely for the past few days and I should have taken it more seriously, but I thought it was because she needed to relax a bit.”

He exhaled through his nose and braced his hands onto his waist. “Yeah, she's got a loose mouth though, that's for sure.”

“Good goddess, what'd she say?”

“Let's just say that Hyunjae could've found out who I am.”

Indigo's face ashened to a horrified shade. “Shit. I'm so sorry about her. This is turning out to be more and more of a disaster.”

You can say that again, Changmin thought, but he wasn’t about to put the blame on Indigo for something that was her coven sister’s doing. Though, he couldn’t imagine what manner of thought convinced Leona to release such a strong, and potentially dangerous, potion into a house full of young adults. It didn’t matter that some were horny or hammered—all that mattered was that there would be consequences to this, and it wouldn’t even be their faults.

Indigo recruited his help to locate the runaway witch and Changmin was swift to agree. There were only so many places in this house that Leona could have run off to, but the problem was the amount of people here.

As he and Indigo hunted, he couldn’t help but linger upon the effects of empitachynsia synthios that he was aware about—its presence in the air must have been the reason for his own unrestrained thoughts earlier, both in regards to you and Leona. He convinced himself that that was the reason, not the bond or any feelings of his, but the artificial intensification of whatever miniscule feelings that lingered. The potion could not work from nothing—that wasn’t how magic worked—but he could stomach confessing to a little bit of the feelings from earlier.

This, however, should have not been his main concern. If he had even gotten a little bit of the potion in his system, then what about you? Were you feeling alright? Were Hyunjae and Shuhua unaffected? Hyunjae hadn’t acted differently from his usual self; he hadn’t had much to drink either—that applied to you, too.

Changmin could only come to a shaky conclusion that even if all of you had inhaled a drop of empitachynsia synthios, the dose was not strong enough to have any noticeable effect on your emotions.

It was some divine fortune or providence that, not even ten minutes later, Indigo reported that one of her friends had gotten a hold of Leona in one of the rooms upstairs. With all of the panic that had plagued the two of them, Changmin and Indigo agreed to take their separate ways for the night and to be grateful for a swiftly concluded catastrophe.

The remaining adrenaline left in his system fueled him in his search for you and Hyunjae, wherever the two of you had ended up. The bond had squeezed his chest cavity all throughout the past ten minutes when he was away. His senses led him toward the kitchen, whose crowd was hardly any better than out in the living room. He couldn’t quite differentiate the pounding of blood in his ears from the heavy bass in the house speakers; he could hardly hear himself think. But his eyes found yours and Hyunjae’s forms squished together in one corner of the kitchen, and there was no need for him to think anymore.

Hyunjae noticed Changmin first and tore his attention away from his phone where both you and he had been hunched over watching clips of cats on Instagram. “Hey, done so soon?” he posed the question with a teasing lilt in his voice.

The teasing, though no fault of Hyunjae’s, made Changmin’s eye twitch. Even the suspicion that Changmin was interested in Leona left him with a sour tongue and clenched throat. “Indigo came by,” he said with little inflection to signal the end to that conversation. He inclined his chin to you, who had yet to raise your head. “Oy, Y—”

Your head lolled slightly onto Hyunjae’s conveniently-located shoulder, and the shift in angle revealed to your two friends that you had, in fact, fallen asleep.

Changmin and Hyunjae shared a fond laugh between themselves, glancing at one another in silent agreement. The former quickly pulled out his phone to snap a picture of you unawares, saving it to the group photo album of drunk mishaps.

“How much did she drink?” Changmin lowered his voice, even if the music didn’t give a shit whether you were asleep or not.

Hyunjae screwed up his face into something like unserious exasperation. “I dunno what she was thinking, man. We were talking and she drank waaay too much of the flavored soju. You know how that stuff tastes and goes down like juice.”

Changmin bobbed his hand knowingly. “I think I’m done for the night, to be honest,” he sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “I can take Yn home. Have you seen Shuhua around?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” Hyunjae slipped his phone into his pocket and carefully swapped places with Changmin. “She came by with Yuqi to get refills of some cocktail and said that a few of them were playing Speed downstairs. I’ll probably go join them. Have you seen Juyeon?”

The weight of your head settled comfortably into the crook of Changmin’s shoulder, and he couldn’t help but gently ghost his fingers over your nose to brush the hair out of your eyes. “Huh? Oh yeah, he’s with Indigo and Lee Minho.”

Hyunjae stared between you and Changmin for a pregnant second, but nodded afterward. “Got it. Well, get home safe, man.”

Changmin clasped his free hand with Hyunjae’s. “Same to you.”

When it was only you and Changmin, your living and breathing pillow considered his current position. He did intend on escorting you home—you grew drowsy when you drank a little too much, and as Hyunjae asserted, it was the flavored soju’s fault; but he was loath to wake you from such a peaceful-looking nap. He twisted his head in a way to peer down at your face, your cheek squished against the muscle of his shoulder and your lip gloss leaving a shiny smudge on his shirt sleeve.

He exhaled a careful breath, then gently gave your shoulder a shake. “Rise ‘n’ shine,” he sang. The grin on his face was remarkably large and unsuppressable as you stirred with a small whine.

“There’s a new picture in the drunk folder, isn’t there?” You glowered while lifting your head up and blinking to adjust your vision. You squinted your eyes at him. “You’re not Hyunjae.”

“Is that so disappointing?” He hoped his voice didn’t betray the miniscule shard of bitterness that just pricked his chest. He reached over and helped you with an errant strand of hair; there was no need for him to sulk when he was the one with you now. (Hell, did he think like this all the time or was the potion still in his system?)

You still couldn’t open your eyes much and you yawned. “No, of course not. What time is it?”

“It’s nearly half past midnight.”

“Not bad,” you said. You yawned again, gingerly dabbing at the corners of your eyes when they began to mist. “I think I drank more than I planned to.”

Changmin chuckled, “Yeah, I figured. C’mon—I’ll take you home.”

The pair of you departed out through a side door in the kitchen, a rather convenient exit that helped you evade wading through the living room crowd to get to the front door. The alleyway on the side of the house was illuminated only by a single light above the kitchen door to accompany the trash bins.

You stumbled alongside Changmin with your wits not having returned yet.

His hand bumped against yours. “Can you walk?” he laughed, glancing over at you.

“If I said no, would you carry me?”

Perchance his pulse jumped. “Sure.”

There was nothing, to him in that moment, more lovely than the way you lit up like the fucking sun. Even the shadows in the alley washed away briefly in awe of your elation—an elation he elicited. “Really?”

His cheeks dimpled and a laugh, breathy but giddy, tumbled out of his mouth. “Yeah. Hop on.”

Thus, Changmin found himself strolling along a deserted sidewalk with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms draped loosely over his shoulders. You had your head tucked into the warmth of his neck as you focused on trying to arrange an Uber to come pick the two of you up at the nearest 7-Eleven; Changmin fought every instinct in him to be still, including his heartbeat. There would be no hiding, even if you were drunk and less observant. Something about your weight on his back eased the ache in his chest at the front.

The night had a bearable chill to it. He rather enjoyed the silence encapsulating you and him, and the shadows clinging to his heels as if they were his guardian. Every so often, he would step into the glow of an amber circle of light and watch your entwined silhouettes cascade across the sidewalk.

“How’s the Uber situation coming along, sweetheart?”

He held his breath until you answered. “Almost,” you murmured in a small voice, focused. The white light of your phone screen streamed up the underside of his jawline from where you held it and also clung to him. “Done!”

He smiled and refrained from turning his head; that would be a dangerous thing to do with your mouth quite literally against his throat. “Good job. When will they be there?”

“I scheduled it for 1:30,” you replied matter-of-factly. You turned your phone off to ease the light shining up into his face, and settled your head against his shoulder in a more comfortable position. “Minnie?”

Ba-bump. “Yeah, Yn.”

“I remember why I drank more than I intended to earlier.” At his quiet prompting, you continued, “Hyunjae was asking about you. It was… he was kind of skirting around it, but he was kind of saying that we’ve been acting weird lately. He mentioned something about you and Leona—I think he saw that she mouthed the word ‘demon’ to you. So I got a little worried and thought if I got a bit tipsy, he’d change the subject.”

Changmin’s steps faltered, but he recovered neatly. A lump seemed to have lodged itself in his throat and it was no longer because he could feel your breath against his pulse. “Is that right,” he muttered, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He had been so careful, too, and all it took was one, little word to shatter his efforts. “Thanks for getting drunk then,” he jested in an effort to lighten his own mood.

“Maybe he doesn’t actually know,” you said to him quietly. “It took you at least two tries to get me to believe you, and Hyunjae’s more of a skeptic than I am.”

But Changmin simply couldn’t be too sure. Of course, what you said held ground, but paranoia was often a pebble in his shoe. “Don’t… don’t worry too much about it, okay? I’ll figure it out as we go.”

“I’m here for you, too.” You lifted one of your hands to give his head a pat. “Well, I’ve always been here for you, but now that I know your secret, you don’t have to hold onto it alone.”

He couldn’t fathom how mere words could warm him from the inside out as if you had taken a handful of whatever sunshine you radiated and placed it in his core. When you had asked him that day why supernaturals were forced to hide their identities from humans, he didn’t linger on the idea of his words sticking with you. He supposed he had underestimated you in that way—you were his friend, and you cared about him as much as he cared about you. Of course you would take those words to heart.

And perhaps that was what eased his anxieties about Hyunjae for the time being. He and Hyunjae were as good of friends as you and him; giving him the benefit of the doubt was what felt right.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

You hummed. “I’ll protect you, Minnie. Hyunjae—well, I guess it should be Leona, huh? Leona can catch my hands.”

Changmin’s joyful laugh echoed against the nearby houses. “Oh, you’re too cute.”

He felt your sigh even more than he heard it. “You’re always laughing at me,” you sulked. “I’m trying to be sincere here. Hey, that rhymed.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He was not super sorry; the grin wouldn't leave his face. “Thank you, Yn. Really.”

By the time you and Changmin raided the 7-Eleven, caught your Uber, and returned to your apartment complex, it was swiftly approaching two in the morning. Your knees no longer wobbled like those of a newborn giraffe, so you walked beside Changmin to your apartment unit. The hallway, alight with its typical blinding fluorescents, was appropriately deserted and effectively made even the smallest of whispers ricochet like the acoustics in an arena.

Changmin had walked this path to your apartment door dozens upon dozens of times before, and though the scenery and the smell hadn’t changed a bit, the feeling that nestled itself into the very fibers of his being had. The ache in his chest, the inconsistent thrumming of his heartbeat, and his headspace had all changed.

Your keys rattled with a tinny sound as you isolated your apartment key from the others. You shoved the carved metal inside the locking mechanism, then sent him a sidelong glance. “Wanna come in for a bit?”

His mouth went dry and it was difficult to pull his lips into the shape of the words that he didn’t want to say. “You should sleep. We should both get some sleep.”

He liked to think he imagined the slow blink of your eyes and the way your eyelashes brushed over the fleeting disappointment in them. “You’re right,” you sighed good-naturedly. You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as a thought occurred to you. “I do have to be up in a few hours; I almost forgot.”

“Why’s that?” he chuckled, and the image of your feet propped up on your desk as you finished a last minute reading for one of your classes painted itself in his mind’s eye.

“Ah, uhm, Chan’s driving me up to see my parents and his sister.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished you could reel them back into your throat.

Changmin’s expression shuddered as the carefully constructed bubble that had formed around his reality tonight burst. The brightness of the hallway lights were suddenly stifling, and he feared what exactly lurked behind its artifice. It reminded him so starkly of your childhood friend—the cordial and warmth he put on as a show a stark contrast to a foreign murkiness that lurked below the surface of the water. There were only so many ways to make Ji Changmin squirm.

He managed a smile to reassure you. You didn’t have to censor yourself on his account, and he wished to know how you filled your days anyway. “Oh, that’s cool of him. Hope you guys have a nice trip home tomorrow,” he said, then brought his arm around your shoulders to bring you into a partial hug before he could talk himself out of it.

You reciprocated the action, but with both of your arms, slotting your bodies against one another so you were two hearts and one body for a second. “Thanks,” you murmured into his shirt. “And thanks for taking care of me. I should be the one taking care of you.”

Changmin pressed his cheek to the side of your head, his arms locking around your waist. The hidden implications behind your words weren’t lost on him, which was why he had told you that he would be good about the soul-bonding thing; about taking care of himself, so that you weren’t forced to in the name of your own privacy and safety.

He was the hazard out of the two of you, after all.

“You do,” he assured you. “You do take care of me.” By continuing to be normal with him, by continuing to treat him as you had always done, he could rest easy at night knowing that he still had a place in your life despite being who he was.

Love was felt in his chest where you belonged—you had made the bones of his ribcage your home, kept his lungs from collapsing, and rested your head against his heart at night. The bond had inadvertently made him two halves of a whole, and he could no longer bear to be without the other half.

There was too much negative space, you thought, as you laid in bed that night (morning). The ceiling was a rather interesting thing to look at with its imperfect, popcorned edges and the dark masses lying in the bottom of the lights, the dead carcasses of foolish insects who couldn’t help themselves.

In particular, there was a distinct lack of someone else. It was strange how fast another’s presence could grow on you, but how could that be when the two of you had already been friends for a couple years? When had spending time with Changmin become essential to easing an unseen ache in your chest?

When you were in the 7-Eleven earlier tonight, Changmin had filled you in on what had really happened at the house party. The idea of a witch being in your midst, releasing a perfumed potion that could escalate someone’s emotions was a frightening prospect. How many other times had you been in similar situations and none the wiser?

And if that potion had worked its way into your system or Hyunjae’s or Juyeon’s or Shuhua’s, then how did it affect Changmin?

A mental image flashed in your head. The first time one possessed another’s body would almost always feel akin to a dream. You were looking at yourself from an outside perspective at the party, your head tucked toward your chest as you slouched over Hyunjae’s shoulder. The body you were seeing through had laughed with him—subconsciously, you knew, exactly which laugh belonged to whom. But when he had pulled out his phone to snap a picture, that was the moment it came together.

When you woke up on Changmin’s shoulder at the party, you couldn’t be too sure that it was a dream; it had felt too real. Your physical body had yanked your astral form back into its vessel right before your eyes opened.

You lifted your hand up to your face in the dark and graced your fingers over the path Changmin’s had when he brushed the hair out of your sleeping face.

That same hand fell onto your sternum, the hard bone at the very center where you imagined your soul to rest deep within. You wished you could wrap your hand around the line that connected you to him, because then, maybe you could cling to it… and maybe it would make more sense as to how your mind ended up in his body tonight.

PART V: THE DIABOLICAL

TRUTHFULLY, 8AM was too early to be pondering moral dilemmas. Options as to how you would tell Changmin about your out-of-body experience flipped through your mind like a deck of flashcards. You were a hypocrite. You were a massive, clown-faced hypocrite whose thumbs hovered over her keyboard as you debated on how best to start the text message:

Option 1: Heeeey, you know how I gave you shit about possessing my body without permission? Well… we're even now.

Option 2: Guess what lol I might be going insane but I might have had a dream that wasn't a dream about possessing your body.

Or, last and certainly least, option 3: I'm pretty sure I'm interpreting your gestures wrong because I have feelings for you. Also, did I mention that I possessed you during my nap last night?

When you were drunk last night, you couldn't be so certain. (Saying this was if sleeping for less than three hours would've helped clarify your memory any better. Drunkenness and sleep deprivation were more alike as states of brain rot than one might think.) Nonetheless, you determined that you were in the wrong—not because you possessed him; that was an accident. You were in the wrong because you had contemplated murder for Changmin doing the same thing to you.

The question was: how? How were you able to take your soul and jump physical bodies? Changmin said this bond was largely for the benefit of the demon, but he also mentioned that the only reason his experience occurred was because he was exhausted.

If control was the baseline of demonic magic, and Changmin was under the influence of a powerful emotional stimulant, would that justify how you were able to pull it off?

(And if he really was under the influence, did that mean you were getting your hopes up about your feelings being reciprocated? Option 3 was looking less and less attractive.)

You chewed on your bottom lip meditatively as the driver's side door opened to your left.

Chan sighed as he dragged his seatbelt over his chest. “I can't believe I forgot to get gas last night,” he said, cranking the engine. “I could've sworn I did.”

“Maybe you just imagined it,” you teased quietly. When you peered over at him, you couldn't help the frown tugging down at the corners of your lips.

The eye bags and puffiness weren't exactly subtle on him. You could acknowledge that it was rather early for both of you to be up and at 'em, but it was essential to hit the road early since the drive was almost three hours.

Chan gave his head a rough shake in the same manner as a wet dog would. “Guess so,” he said before a yawn cut him off.

“Are you sure you're okay to drive?” You plucked one of the paper cups in the cupholders and handed it to him.

He gratefully accepted the cheap gas station coffee and took slow, measured gulps of the scalding liquid. “I think I should be fine. You should rest; you didn't get a lot of sleep last night, right?”

As he began pulling the car out of the quaint lights of the gas station proper, you adjusted your sitting position. “Chan,” you mused, “you look worse than I do right now. Were you up late last night, too?”

“Maybe a little later than usual… I was just—y’know, preparing some things for today.” He nudged his blinker on and craned his neck to check for oncoming traffic. When it was safe, he pulled out onto the road.

At this point in the morning, there weren't many cars accompanying the two of you on your journey north. The sky was a blanched blue further enfeebled by the pale autumn sunshine. You would instinctively settle in to watch the passing scenery—mountain ranges, pastures, and the like—but you continued to keep one eye on your driver this time around.

“Preparing things,” you repeated softly, turning your phone off having long given up on deciding on a text message to Changmin. “Are you—are you okay? Is everything okay?”

He liked to fuss over you, but you weren't ignorant to his own struggle. Chan was the one who faced adversity, not you—at least, in your mind. Sure, you faced your own troubles, but it hurt you to see him hurt. The two of you hadn't been as close recently, which was no fault of yours or his; people drifted apart sometimes. That was the way of life, but it didn't mean your care for the other waned even the slightest.

Chan physically loosened up his tense muscles. “Yeah, of course. I promise that I'm fine.”

Your eyes shot wide open as they tracked a trickle of something dark and viscous seeping down from his nose and into the cradle of his Cupid's bow. “Oh my god.”

Your friend's eyes flitted off the road for a second. “What?” He brought a hand up to his mouth and pulled it away. “Shit,” he muttered and gritted his teeth. The blood had dribbled into his mouth now to stain the white of his smile a gory crimson.

“I think you need to pull over,” you fretted as you tore through the center console for tissues.

Chan clutched the ball of tissues in one hand and held it up to his nose. “I'm fine, Yn—”

“Pull over. Now.” There was enough force behind your voice to make him twitch, but you suspected that the slight tremor wasn't unnoticeable either. Just how much had he been overexerting himself lately? “I'm driving.”

He didn't have a choice. Defeat clung to the tails of his exhaustion, digging the grooves of his eye bags deeper. Chan didn't argue as he pulled off to the side of the road.

You didn't have to pretend to be even a little angry—you were frustrated, yes, but only because he was clearly not in the state to drive for three hours. It was irresponsible and stupid, you wanted to say to him.

But after swapping seats and glancing over at him in the passenger seat, you opened your mouth with no voice to use. Chan couldn't meet your eyes as he kept the bloody wad of tissue to his nose. You didn't have the heart to reprimand him, and he sure as Hell didn't need that from you.

You reined in your concern and resumed the drive.

Changmin wondered if texting you was too desperate. Before one judged him too harshly, there once was a time when he didn't think about interactions like this as if they were rocket science. There was a time when he could text you with ease and without stress.

That was no longer the case.

“Please tell me you didn't spend the entire morning on your phone. That's a horrible example for the kids, you know.”

Changmin had known Aunt Jenna and her husband Kian were outside the door before they could pull out their house keys. His two cousins, who were reading and napping, respectively, on the rug scrambled to their feet with screeches of welcome to their parents. Changmin pretended their pitch didn't nearly destroy his eardrums. “No,” he protested, “we finished their homework really fast, so we were just chilling.”

“Yeah, eomma. We were just chilling!” parroted the youngest of the two—Dae—as he clung to his father's arm like a jungle gym.

Kian gave a laugh as he waddled into the kitchen with his hands full of groceries and a kid. The second child, Julia, wrapped around her limbs around his ankle; hence the waddling.

“Just chilling,” Jenna deadpanned, unimpressed. She swiped the bags from Kian and set them on the kitchen counter, peering over at her nephew. “Well, were they good?”

Changmin dimpled, nodding. “Yup. I think they deserve ice cream.”

“Oppa gave permission!” Julia hooted.

“I've got it,” Kian mused, squeezing past his wife in the narrow kitchen space. “Kids, go grab your jackets and we'll go down to the store.” He glanced between Jenna and Changmin. “We'll give you two some space.”

As soon as the front door slammed shut and the sounds of eager children disappeared down the hall, Jenna joined Changmin in the living room. Today was the day Changmin promised his aunt he would watch her kids. Rather than being out the entire day, Jenna and Kian promised to be back once they'd completed their long list of errands. Changmin didn't mind watching his cousins for the past few hours; they were, over all, decently well-behaved. (Plus, it was easy to bribe them with the promise of ice cream for good behavior.)

Jenna hiked up one leg beneath her as she claimed the opposite end of the couch from him. “How are you? Has it fully faded?”

Ah, there was no beating around the bush then. He sucked in a breath, but nodded. “I'm pretty sure, yeah. I haven't felt anything for at least a week.” It was strange to go from a period of sporadic headaches to none at all. It was like waiting for a dormant volcano to suddenly awaken; would the curse strike again and how soon?

How did he even come to be cursed? Now that was the question of the hour.

“Good, good. I don't… I can't sense it from you anymore,” she said, nibbling on her fingernail. “You had me worried there, Changmin-ah. How's your friend? Her name's Yn, right?”

A smile crawled onto his face. “You and Mom are always so bad with names.”

“I got it right, though,” she pointed out, but didn't deny his accusation.

“Yeah, she's doing alright.” He licked his lips and became contemplative. At least, he was pretty sure you were doing alright. The memories of last night came rushing back at him in a dizzying whirlwind of laughter, thrills, and warmth; the undeniable wholeness in his chest, your lips at his pulse. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “I'm trying to focus my efforts on the curse situation now though,” he said after clearing his throat. “I think that should take priority.”

Jenna gave a grave nod. “I'm inclined to agree.”

“Right. I reached out to that one guy you told me about.”

“Oh, the prince? Did he answer?”

Changmin hummed an affirmative. “You said he's a… demon prince. What circle is he from and how the Hell was he let out?”

Out of all the years Changmin knew his Aunt Jenna, it never ceased to amaze him that she was friends with a duchess of Hell. She was more of a social butterfly than his mother, but the extrovert quality didn't necessarily grant one the keys to class mobility and intermingling. Demon pride ran as dense as concrete most of the time, so it was a wonder that Jenna kept in touch with her highborn friend even after moving to the human world.

Jenna squinted one eye. “Ah,” she drawled, “pretty sure he's only second prince. His older brother's inheriting the throne to the third circle.”

Damn. A prince to the third circle, huh? Changmin chewed his bottom lip and his knee began bouncing up and down fervently. He was aware that there were plenty of the supernatural among him on campus, but he didn't go out of his way to interact with them. There had been a party here and there, but he couldn't get away with too much since his closest friends were all human.

“Well,” he continued from earlier, “he replied to my text and agreed to meet with me.” The task had been surprisingly easy. He imagined demon princes, or demon mobility in general, to be unbearably arrogant with each boasting an ego the size of the moon; however, this prince didn't treat Changmin any differently than if he were a classmate with a mutual friend. It was… nerve-racking.

“That's great! The hard part is over.”

Changmin made a face. “I really don't think that was the hard part.”

She flicked her wrist flippantly. “Nonsense. He'll be just as anxious to uncover the culprit as you are.” Jenna cocked her head to the side in thought. “And, well, who knows? Maybe he knows how to break a soul-bond.”

Changmin cradled his hopes for this interaction close to his chest as the day went on. He was supposed to meet this guy in the early afternoon at one of the music studios by campus—apparently, he practically lived there. Word through the hellfire was essentially that this prince was barely seen at his apartment, in class, or outside for that matter.

Suffice to say that Changmin hadn't a fucking clue what he was walking into.

He chained up his bicycle just outside the studio building with his phone's GPS open in one hand and the other absentmindedly rubbing at his chest. (It had been tight all day; you must really be at home, hours away from where he was.)

He glanced up at the unassuming brownstone facade towering above him. This was supposedly the place. The numbers 1117 were tacked onto the side for the building's street address, and Changmin triple checked that it coincided with the address sent to him.

When he was satisfied, he strode over to the front door and let himself in.

The interior of the building was a labyrinth of its own with white plaster walls that looked the same down every corridor. The building designer had left a small mercy, however, in the form of a large directory in the lobby with arrows directing the weary wanderer down a certain path depending on their desired studio number.

Changmin located the number and followed the signs. Before long, he stood before a sleek, black door with A8 emblazoned on its surface. He inhaled deeply, then knocked.

A long moment passed.

Changmin drummed his fingers against the seam of his pants and glanced up and down the empty hallway. Did he get the wrong room?

As if the demon prince could hear his thoughts (Changmin wouldn't be surprised if he could), the door opened. A light brunet poked his head out into the hallway, his eyes large like a doe's and paired with a rather warm smile. “Ji Changmin, I presume?”

Changmin cleared his throat, awkwardly bending himself at the waist in a hasty bow. “Yep, that's me.”

“Not here, not here,” Prince Kim Hongjoong of the Third Circle hushed with a grimace. He flicked his hand in the air, widening the opening to flag him inside. “You really don't need to bow to me, man.”

Oh. There wasn't anything Changmin could think to say except to mutter out an apology under his breath. He ducked into the dimly lit studio, and Hongjoong shut the door behind him. The studio itself was larger than Changmin expected with a small couch shoved into a corner, an expansive mixing desk with a couple monitors, a mini fridge tucked beneath, and a recording booth that spanned the entire back half of the room.

A demon's vision, even a halfling's, didn't worsen or get better with more light, but Hongjoong still turned it up. “Sit, sit,” Hongjoong insisted, gesturing to the couch in the corner. He took his own perch upon the office chair by the mixing desk.

Changmin stiffly lowered himself onto the edge of the couch and placed his bag by his feet. He placed his hands on either of his knees. “Ah, thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” he said.

Hongjoong nodded. “Sure!” That smile was both beautiful and sharp; Changmin couldn't put his finger on it, but it was the epitome of demonic royalty. Hongjoong's expression sobered slightly. “But when you said something about the curse going around lately, I did think that it would be best to talk about it as soon as possible.”

“Right, same here. Were you inflicted by it at any point?” Changmin decided that Hongjoong didn't look any worse for wear, but not everything could simply be observed upon the surface.

“I was lucky,” he replied, shrugging. “Probably because I don't go out much, but I can't be too sure. What about you?”

Changmin dipped his head once. “My aunt says I was, and I had been feeling more exhausted than usual and had random headaches. It's faded by now—but that's because I'm half-blooded.”

Hongjoong nodded his head in understanding. “Okay, glad to hear you're not doing too bad now and the curse was able to fade for you” —he paused, massaging his jawline, before turning to his laptop on the mixing table— “that clears something up for me, at least. Here—I’ve been putting together a document with my findings.”

Changmin stood from his seat and leaned over the desk to see the screen. It seemed that despite Hongjoong's lack of touching grass, the prince did get down to business. He wondered if all princes of Hell were so attentive to their species’ needs; cynicism though told Changmin that they weren't.

“Basically, with your testimony, it seems that whatever curse was performed was intended to only affect those of demonic heritage.” Hongjoong scrolled down to one portion of the document to add in this new nuance. He then worked his way down to a section where there were three images pasted side by side on the screen. Changmin recognized that they were books, but he couldn't identify their titles or purposes. “Which then narrows the curse's point of origin.”

Two images were deleted. The one left was a tome fitted with a dark colored cover. Deep purple veins seemed to scar the black and its edges were torn and crumpled like decaying flesh. There were letters engraved into the front—Changmin squinted to read them: nem focta diabolica. It was an old dialect, more similar to Latin than the more modern dialects used in Hell.

“‘For diabolical deeds?’” he murmured. His eyebrows creased. “That's the Book of the Diabolical?”

Hongjoong hummed, “Yes. You've never seen it?”

“Not until now,” he said while shaking his head. A shiver rattled down his spine and he braced his hand on the desk by the laptop. The Book of the Diabolical was one of the several forbidden cursed magic tomes that existed throughout the realms. Each tome was stuffed full of curses written to specifically target a species. The often lethal effects and methods of use were why most originals were banned and locked away. “But you said that my testimonial is what confirms that this was only targeted toward demons. Could we not have assumed that based on reports of who have been affected?” The reports had only noted a pattern of demon victims. If anybody else was affected, word would have likely been spread.

“Yes and no,” the prince replied. “We can make a judgment call based on reports, but your experience specifically is what gives us cause. If your mild symptoms are due to your half non-demoness, then we can now conclude that the curse is only supposed to work on demons.”

Changmin straightened as his mind went to work, putting together the pieces. “So now we just need to find out who is in possession of the Book of the Diabolical.”

A solemn nod. “I thought it would be easier to track down, but there's been nothing through my contacts about recent acquisitions. We know there are copies of the book that exist, too. It's just… ah, frustrating.” Hongjoong combed a hand through his dirty blond strands, a muscle twitching in his jaw at the thought.

It must have been another layer of aggravating to be a prince and have no control over the situation. Changmin truly could only imagine. “Do we know exactly which spell was used? I know it's energy-stealing, but the nature of it could lead us toward an answer.”

Hongjoong leaned back into his chair as Changmin settled his back against the edge of the table. “I do,” the prince said. “I consulted my circle's chief authority on magic and she mentioned that it was a spell that took energy in order to transfer it to another living being. The spell is also able to locate demonic entities without knowing them personally, so any demons within a certain radius of the spell would be cursed.”

At his own utterance, Hongjoong lurched into an upright position. “So we need to determine where the curse was performed!”

Changmin jolted slightly at his sudden exclamation. “How do we do that? Is it like checking for radiation poisoning?”

“Kind of. We'd just need a sample to match.”

“I'd offer my blood, but I'm not sure how potent the magic is any—”

There weren't many ways to describe what happened simply because Changmin himself couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

One moment, he could breathe perfectly fine; the next, he'd doubled over, desperately clawing at his chest as every ounce of air left his body and refused to come back. Black spotted his vision, narrowing his sight into a tunnel as his knees slammed against the ground.

His blood thundered in his ears as the pain in his chest seized his body whole. Someone had taken a knife and carved their way down the center of his chest.

Then, as quickly as it'd come, it was gone.

Sweat dripped down the sides of his face as Changmin greedily inhaled air into his lungs. Hongjoong was right in front of him, his arm hoisting his body into an upright position. He was murmuring something, but the sound was muffled… little by little, the pain and the blood in his ears dwindled to nothing but a terrifying dream.

Changmin grabbed at his chest as if he could feel the strained pull deep down where soul lived—where you lived—

His eyes shot wide open. “Yn.” The stabbing sensation that pierced his chest now was no longer physical agony but pure, unbridled fear.

He fumbled around for his phone and Hongjoong grabbed it from where it had fallen onto the floor. Worry creased the prince's brows. “Are you okay, Changmin? Who's Yn?”

“My—my soul—” Changmin dialed your number, half blinded by the sweat and tears blurring his vision.

Hongjoong seemed to understand. “Something happened to her?”

“I don't—I don't know.” All he could think about was the fact that you were with Chan and that he was afraid.

You and Chan arrived at your parents’ house just before the clock hit noon. Your childhood home was much like it was when you left and visited every break: half-dead azalea bushes and a rusted wind chime hanging over the porch; hallways and a stairway adorned with the occasional family picture and portrait from over the years; and the smell that clung to the walls, and when bottled up, would be called “home.” It had been where you and Chan spent so many of your formative years together running, playing, crying, and living.

Lunch was eaten at home, and while you stayed to help your parents out with a few errands, Chan went ahead to the nearby hospital to see his sister.

You followed behind him nearly an hour after he'd left, your stomach full and your hands buried beneath a basket of treats that your parents put together for Chaeyoung. Flowers had been considered, but then your dad reminded your mom that flowers could not be eaten, and that had marked the end of that conversation.

The room the nurse's station directed your toward was down a lengthy hall of clean white. You'd consumed media before—books, shows, movies—where a character had a distinct aversion to hospitals because it reminded them of a lost loved one or a moment of distinct pain and weakness. Whenever you passed by the open doors or closed curtains of these rooms, you couldn't help but wonder how many of these people thought the same.

At the end of the hall, you stopped before a closed door whose accompanying window was sealed off with closed blinds. You couldn't tell by squinting through the slits if Chan and Chaeyoung were inside, but there was a little whiteboard off to the side with “Lee Chaeyoung :)” written in dry erase marker.

You lifted your fist up to the door, gently knocking upon its surface. When there wasn't an answer, you took the gamble to let yourself in.

Either the hospital was generous this time, you thought to yourself, or Chaeyoung just got really lucky. The room was spacious for a single person, but there was only room for one bed. Shoving a second in here would have been cruel and unusual punishment. The television hoisted onto the opposite wall from the bed was playing an old episode of Friends at low volume, a comfortable white noise for the sleeping form tucked into bed.

You carefully tread over to the bedside where you saw Chan's backpack left on the chair. You set the basket as quietly as possible onto the nightstand, your eyes flickering over to Chaeyoung to ensure you didn't wake her.

Just as you were moving Chan's backpack off the chair, a book slipped out from the open zipper.

“Shit,” you whispered, barely catching it before it slapped against the linoleum. You'd seen a lot of books before, but this one… you peered at it with a small frown. It was incredibly worn at the edges and the cover design seemed to be something like human veins but in the color of a deep violet. There were words scrawled at the center, but you couldn't get a good look at them before you heard Chaeyoung stir from the bed next to you.

You shoved the book into Chan's bag and set the backpack down, simultaneously dropping your butt into the chair. “I woke you up, huh?” you winced.

Chaeyoung smiled sheepishly at you. Even with the nasal cannula and the formless hospital gown, she was beautiful. Though her skin was more blanched than usual, it didn't take away from the utter warmth she radiated in this sterile environment. In that way, she and her brother were so similar. “Hi, Yn-ie,” she mused. “And no, I was just pretending to be asleep.”

“Well, that's not very nice then. Were you planning to let me watch you sleep this whole time?” you teased back at her. Your lips pulled into a fond smile. “How are you feeling? Any better today, unnie?”

She lifted her hand up onto the railing of the bed and you gently clasped it with your own. Throughout the years, she had come to be almost like your own older sister figure, in a way. “I'm a little tired, but it doesn't hurt a lot, so don't worry. A little coughing here and there, but nothing a bit of water won't fix.”

You wished you could believe her.

“But enough about me. What's going on with you? Are you seeing anyone yet?”

You choked on your own breathing air, pulling a grin out of Chaeyoung. You had to let go of her hand in order to thump your own chest. “You sound like my mom,” you retorted as heat crawled up the back of your neck.

Chaeyoung made a movement akin to a shrug. “I'm bored; sue me… so are you?”

The silence in the room was enough to speak volumes. The way your mind immediately flashed to a particular demonic friend of yours made the tightness in your chest hum gladly. You rubbed the spot with the heel of your palm absentmindedly.

“Oh, well you have to tell me about them now,” Chaeyoung gushed, squeezing your hand. “You can't even deny it—your eyes just went so soft, Yn.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. How were you supposed to tell her that they were only feelings? The urge to tell her about the knot around your ribs was suddenly too great; it was like looking into Shuhua's eyes and denying everything to her. “He's,” you stammered, “we're friends.”

“That's usually how it begins,” she chimed in.

You fixed her with a look. “And he's…” How did one say “everything” without saying everything?

Chaeyoung grinned, knowingly. “I know you'll just deny it, but it's—” Her words broke off with a violent cough.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you scrambled off your chair to reach for the tissues on the nightstand. Her coughing fit raged on without a moment of mercy, not even to let her breathe air. Each one grated on you for your stupidity, for letting her waste her energy on coaxing an answer out of you.

She took the tissues gratefully, shoving them against her mouth as she hacked up globs of crimson red to stain the paper and sheets.

You began searching for water. Maybe medication. Anything that might soothe her for a second.

The door bursted open, and Chan and an older man with a white coat hurried into the room. You ducked out of the way as another nurse barreled in after them. The doctor and the nurse converged on Chaeyoung's bed and you held your hands close together by your chest as you stood next to Chan in the doorway.

“They heard her heart monitor skyrocket from the nurse's station,” Chan said quietly with his eyes on his sister's bed. His eye bags had not gotten better as the day dragged on, but you had been foolish to think for a second that this trip would make him feel any better. His hand gently warmed the place between your shoulder blades. “Come on. Let's give them the room.”

You and Chan ended up in the hallway just outside the door. Your back was pressed against the wall facing the window while Chan practically paced a hole into the floor.

Just a minute ago, he'd seemed almost resigned. But the energy around him had become frantic, frazzled. You grew wary and nervous simply by watching him, your fingers cracking knuckles and tugging at loose strands on your shirt sleeves.

He tore his hands through his hair for what felt like the fiftieth time, and you stepped forward. “Chan—Chan, please just sit down. You're going to tire yourself out like this.”

“Yn, I can't,” he said, and the tremble in his voice was unmistakable.

You grabbed his hands away from his head to force him to look at you, to stay still. “She's going to be okay.”

His eyes glittered with mourning. The jewels that welled up in his eyes poured down the slopes of his cheeks. “She's not,” he rasped, shaking his head. “They said she's getting worse and—and I—I don't know what to do anymore.”

There was a heavy pang in your chest, but you forced both you and Chan to the side of the hallway closer to some of the chairs left out. He balked, stopping in his tracks. “Yn, I don't know how to save her. I've tried everything.”

You squeezed his hands and your eyes began to sting. “I know you have,” you breathed out. “I know you have and I am so sorry.”

“I don't know, I don't know,” he sobbed. He hung his head. “It's my fault. I should've tried harder—I could've done better—”

“Chan,” you cut in, “why in the world would you blame yourself? You've done so much for her; Chaeyoung would never blame you for this, not ever.”

Chan lifted his head and you were so certain there was a glint of purple in his eyes, but there were so many tears it could've only been a trick of the light. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Anything.”

His fingers curled with yours and you believed that he was finally squeezing you back—that he was finally leaning on you. “Can you promise me that you're not chained to him?”

What?

You hardly registered what he just asked you when you keeled over. A searing pain ripped through your body and twisted around your sternum. It was as if someone had wrapped their hands around that central bone and was trying to tear it out of you. Your heart and lungs seized all at once—you couldn't breathe.

Oh my god—you couldn't—breathe—

Air rushed into your lungs all at once, and you found yourself grappling onto the sides of a chair. Chan was saying something to you—they were words, but words you couldn't hear correctly. …so sorry… can't… you… like me.

Your center of gravity tilted violently on its axis and leaned toward the ground. As blood pumped violently back into your skull, you could feel the cold embrace of unconsciousness pull you closer.

A pair of hands grasped yours again, and you felt something cool pressed into your hold. A cup? Water?

“Yn? Yn, can you hear me? I'm gonna call a doctor—”

“No, no,” you waved the comment away with a weak hand. Your vision gradually cleared along with the fog in your head. You groaned quietly, bringing the paper cup to your mouth and poured it down your throat. Your chest heaved with labored breaths and you slumped into the chair you were draped in. “I'm fine now.”

Chan's face was twisted into deep worry as he leaned over you. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Yn, I can't lose you, too. That looked and sounded awful. What even happened?”

You closed your eyes. “I… I'm not sure.” It was like that one time you had nausea while Changmin was possessing you. But that wasn't nausea; whatever the Hell that had been, it was closer to your heart being clawed out than a measly migraine. “Would you mind just, uhm, getting me more water, please?”

“Yeah, of course. I'll get you a proper bottle from the vending machine.”

“Thanks, Channie.” You blindly patted his hand, and heard the sound of his footsteps soften as he hurried away.

You brought your hand up to your chest and let the warmth of your palm soothe the ache that haunted you. What was all that? There was no way that could have been a heart attack. You hadn't felt it in the heart.

“Shit,” you huffed as your phone vibrated in your back pocket. With a slight grunt, you managed to maneuver your hand beneath your body to answer the call. “Hello?”

A heavy breath filled your ears. “Oh Hell… are you okay?”

Déjà vu, much? You pulled the phone away from your ear to see the caller ID. “Changmin? How did you” —the pieces clicked together in your mind and you straightened in your seat— “oh my god, you felt that?”

“Are you okay?” he repeated instead with more strength.

“Yes, yeah,” you exhaled. The pain was slowly receding to the edges of your memory and breathing gradually became nature again. “Did you feel it, too, then? Are you alright?” The though of him enduring that pain at the same time as you—your heart might as well have fallen straight into the pit of your stomach.

You definitely weren't mistaken when you heard a sniffle from that side. “I'm alright,” Changmin said softly. “I just—I needed to hear—I needed to make sure you were okay.”

A smile pulled so strongly at your mouth that the corners curled downwards. “Well I'm okay now. I promise.”

“When are you coming home? I… I need to see you.”

Your free arm wrapped around your stomach and wished it was his. Unconsciously, your eyes raised from the glossy floor to the presence coming back down the hall with a water bottle in his hand. (Was it survival instinct that had you looking at him in a light you never once considered before?) “Soon,” you promised with all the tenderness in the world. “Wait for me?”

“For however long I need to.”

PART VI: THE CURSED

Nightfall swaddled the world in its embrace when Chan pulled his car into the parking lot at your apartment complex. The headlights sliced through like twin blades across the sidewalk to blind the bushes lining the building’s perimeter. Sleep hadn’t claimed you at any point during the drive back down to the university, and you could feel the dryness begin to sting at the corners of your eyes.

You grabbed your bag from between your legs as Chan let the engine thrum beneath you. “Thanks,” you said quietly.

“Yeah,” he muttered back, dragging a hand down his face.

The drive hadn’t been much better. If someone asked you to point to the exact moment you were aware of the rift between you and Chan, you wouldn’t be able to tell them. There was a cloud of uncertainty, dark and stormy, that now blocked the radiance you were used to.

You glanced out of the window with your palm ghosting over your chest and you locked eyes with a figure loitering by the entrance to your apartment complex. The jump in your heartbeat was confirmation enough of who it was.

Fingers grazed over your shoulder—you shifted away, something you had never done before. A meekness took over your counterpart’s face. “There’s nothing I could say, is there?”

“You’ve never brought this up to me before,” you countered. At some point between Chaeyoung’s hospital room and the apartment parking lot, you figured out what Chan had asked you and who he was referring to. ‘Chained’ was an interesting word choice; you foolishly decided not to dwindle on it too long while you were within five feet of him.

It was a lot to think about. The chasm that gradually stretched between you had never existed before, and it cracked through the bridge that was your history with him. Your immediate thought was that the bridge was worth saving, but whenever you leaned over to grab the flayed ends, there was something in the dark that snapped at your fingers.

“He’s… Yn, he’s not who you think he is.”

You shoved the car door open. “I’ll make that judgment for myself. Good night.” Without another word, you stole into the night and let the door’s slam echo in the quiet.

As you made your way across the sidewalk to Changmin, there was an undeniable skip in that reliable rhythm called a heartbeat. The more you closed the distance between you, the less your chest ached and tugged. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered the sound of tires dragging over gravel and lights fading away, but if it wasn’t in your direct view, you didn’t quite care.

Changmin didn’t look hurt, at least from the outside. His dimpled smile graced his features as he took a few steps to meet you.

“Hey—” Your mouth muffled against the fabric on his shoulder as his arms scooped around you and pulled your body flush against him. An emotion bubbled up in your chest, then your throat, as you relaxed into him. The ache was gone, but he was here. You slowly brought your arms up around his middle and allowed the unspeakable to simmer.

You heard a small sound by where his face was tucked into your neck, and when the realization hit you, you could only laugh. “Are you sniffing me?” you snickered.

“You smell nice,” he sulked.

You patted his back. “So not only are we leashed, but you have also adopted the characteristics of a dog—”

“I’m letting go now.”

“Noo, don’t let go. I’m sorry,” you said and locked your arms around him. You both knew he could break out of your hold at any point, but in your arms, he remained. “Are you okay? You wanted to see me right when I got back.”

A breath was released against your skin, and it was so similar to the brushes of wind that he demonstrated early on as a physical manifestation of his power. “I needed to see you,” he corrected. “I needed to see that you were okay.”

The top-left quadrant of your ribcage fluttered. “I… yeah that was scary, wasn’t it?” you whispered. The phantom pain ignited within your breast for a moment, and you screwed your eyes shut. How could a single touch cause such physical agony? You were careening toward the truth you had been avoiding for hours now. You were peering into a dark chasm with no end to the bottom, but the longer you delayed, the longer it would continue to instill that fear and anxiety within you.

You cupped the back of his head with your palm, brushing your thumb through the strands of hair. “We need to talk.”

He hummed. “We do.” Changmin straightened and while one of his arms lingered about the curve of your waist, the other lifted toward your face. Before he could touch you, he stopped himself and pulled the hand back down to his pocket. “Are you tired? We could talk about this tomorrow?”

The thought of tomorrow morning’s lecture, but leaving the seat beside Shuhua empty, made your stomach sink. Your nod was reluctant. “I guess so… thank you for coming though. It was sweet—good. It was really good to see you. I—”

That hand from just a moment ago reappeared to cup the underside of your jaw and drew you over to kiss you.

(Under oath, Changmin would have admitted that there was a part of him that had been craving to kiss you since that day in his apartment when he confessed that murder from your lips was damningly divine; but if you were to ask him now, he would have said he simply didn’t want to say good night yet.)

You weren’t out of your wits enough to be completely slow as to what was happening. His touch was hesitant and bereft of the full strength he wished to impart. The brush of his lips against yours was fleeting and he was pulling away all too soon.

Cheater. You grabbed a handful of his hoodie in your fist and yanked him back over to you. You’re not getting away with that.

He stumbled in surprise, slapping his palm against the wall over your head. That arm was looping back around you in an instant, and your chests pressed together as if connected by opposite poles of a magnet. He was better this time around—sloppier, more fervent. His fingers dug into the meat of your waist, his mouth bruising against yours.

You wondered if a few minutes spent devouring the air between each other was enough to carve the other’s name into your mouths permanently.

His mouth glistened in the low light when you pulled away to relieve your lungs. Changmin’s eyes were hooded, pupils dilated to the black of deep space: consuming, but wondrous. “Another thing to talk about tomorrow then?” he exhaled out against your skin.

You nodded—that was a given—and you watched his eyelashes flutter as he leaned in again. Something deeply satisfied purred in the recesses of your center, somewhere only one’s soul might dwell. (Love was felt in your chest where he belonged, after all.) You breathed him in as he kissed you once more. It wouldn’t matter if the invisible string that tethered you to him eventually faded because your souls were far too comfortable with each other to ever let go.

The sun hung midway between the sky's precipice and the horizon, washing the world beneath it in a whimsical filter of gold. While Mondays were usually a lighter load for you, today happened to be the one you stacked all of your academic appointments onto. It wasn't until about three in the afternoon that you were able to see Changmin again.

You stepped out of your department advisor's building with your hand raised to shield your eyes. Waiting for you at the curbside and straddling his bicycle was the other half of your soul bond.

“You like guys with bikes?” Changmin grinned, half laughing as he nodded to you.

You threw your head back and couldn't fight the smile off your face. “You pick up all your girls like this?”

“That would be a yes, 'cause I only have one girl and I don't have a car.”

Your laugh bounced off the nearby walls and made Changmin's cheeks hurt from how wide he smiled. You made your way over to him, and he curled his hand around your waist, thumb rubbing into your hip bone. “Hi,” he mused.

“Hi.” Nothing had been said between the two of you since last night besides wishes of good sleep and to perhaps see one another in your dreams. (If dreams were considered a weakness to demons, it was safe to say that Changmin didn't give a damn.) You licked your lips. “So where do you wanna talk? Because we do have to talk about some things.”

“I know. Juyeon said he won't be home, so I thought we could go back and talk, and maybe… watch a movie, if that's cool.”

You snorted. “You kiss a guy once and he suddenly gets game.”

His eyebrows went sky high as he handed you his helmet to strap on. “Actually,” he scoffed, “we kissed at least f—”

“Ah!” You pressed your pointer finger to his lips, fixing him with a pointed look and ignoring the warmth in your cheeks. “That's semantics. Is this even safe, by the way?” you asked, gesturing to the back of his bike where he had a small rack installed over the back wheel.

“Yeah, you just need to hold on tight.”

You threw one leg over the middle and braced your feet over the two bars jutting out from either side of the back wheel. Your arms came around his nearly nonexistent waist, the side of your head resting against his backpack. “You just want me to hug you.”

Changmin laughed from the front. “You said it, not me!”

Who said sharing a bike was romantic? Certainly not you, but there was plenty of fluttering in your stomach that made you think otherwise. You didn't keep your face against him for long, and lifted it up to feel the wind across your cheeks and through your hair.

It was strange to think of him as a demon when you had known him longest as a good friend. There was nothing remotely unhuman about him, but what made someone a human? Was it physical traits or lack of magic ability? Was it the realm we hailed from or was it simply… prejudice and stereotype?

Whenever you thought back to that fateful night, you couldn't believe you'd harbored even an ounce of fear for him. A part of you thought he'd pulled all those stops to make you scared, but the other part knew that maybe they were necessary out of his own alarm.

When you arrived at his apartment complex, he locked up his bike in the room in the lobby. The two of you worked your way up to his floor, a light conversation bubbling between you about what movie you should watch after you filled each other in. Speaking about anything regarding the supernatural out in the open like this was not ideal.

“—it’s really not even that scary,” Changmin insisted as he fished around his bag for his keys.

You crossed your arms over your chest, unconvinced. “I know you've got a thing for Chucky, but—”

His mouth fell agape as he managed to grab his keys and shimmy open the lock on the door. “I do not have a thing for Chucky. That's just disgusting and perverted. I thought you were better than—oh. Shit.”

You were about to ask him what was wrong when you followed him in through the door. Seated on the couch was Juyeon, Shuhua, and Hyunjae, two of whom had their arms crossed and their faces fitted with matching masks of suspicion.

“Hi guys,” you greeted awkwardly and nudged the door closed. What were they talking about without you and Changmin?

“We’ve been expecting you—ow! We agreed that I was going to greet them,” Hyunjae hissed to Shuhua who had dealt a brutal blow to his ribs with her elbow. “Also, your elbow is so fucking bony—”

Shuhua harrumphed, sitting up straight with her chin inclined. “We’ve been expecting you. Juyeon purposely lied to Changmin so we could confront the two of you.”

You and Changmin exchanged nervous glances. Your counterpart then swiftly turned toward his roommate with an expression of betrayal. “You lied to me?”

Juyeon went doe-eyed. “I’m sorry, Changminnie—they made me!”

Hyunjae’s cough was annoyingly loud, and he thumped his fist against his palm like a gavel. What was this—court? “Ahem. We all agreed that we needed to catch you guys in the act and to hold an intervention. I tried” —he dragged out the word ‘tried’ as if he’d nearly died in the Sahara Desert while doing it— “to confront Yn about it at the house party, but then you went and got yourself drunk.”

Oh. You performed a mental rewind all the way back to last Saturday. Oh no.

You and Changmin gravitated toward one another’s side. “What exactly,” Changmin drawled with narrowed eyes, “are you holding an intervention about?”

“Guys, please. We’re not fucking stupid,” Shuhua huffed. “We know you’ve been sneaking around together. And whether you’re actually dating or just hooking up—”

You choked on your own spit.

“—we need to know if you’re committing friendcest.”

You had to hold back both a laugh and a tremendous sigh. This was about fuckass friendcest, not Changmin’s demonhood. You opened your mouth to relieve your friends of their concern when Changmin beat you to the punchline.

“We’re not sneaking around for that reason,” he said, his eyes flickering over to you. You felt the back of his hand graze yours, and you blinked at him. While it was true that the original reason you started sneaking around was not because of mutual attraction, there was a tablespoon of truth to that now. If last night hadn’t happened before this conversation, it would have been a lot harder for you to answer their questions, and if you had talked about the kiss before…

There was conflict across Changmin’s face as he warred with himself on how to properly put yours and his hunt into words that they would understand. There was undoubtedly a build-up of years’ worth of guilt mounting in him to put pressure on his reveal of the truth, but it was clear that he was still not ready for that conversation yet.

You stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “He’s lying. We have been dating,” you declared. It was an innocent white lie that was somewhat truthful. “We” —you cleared your throat as every pair of eyes darted over to you, including Changmin’s— “wanted to try it out. We only really have gone out a couple times though, and it hasn’t been long since it started. We’re sorry we hid it from you guys.”

Changmin’s eyes gleamed with gratitude as his fingers braided with yours and he cupped around your bound hands with his free one.

A beat of silence passed as the other half of your friend group exchanged glances with one another. Had they expected you to deny it?

At last, Shuhua broke out into an almost pouty smile. “I wish you guys didn’t hide it from us, but if you’re happy…”

“We hid it because we weren’t sure yet and didn’t want it to affect the group’s dynamics,” Changmin chimed in. He squeezed your hand at his side. “I mean, I’m happy.” He glanced over at you, cheeks dimpled. “You?”

You smiled back, nodding. “Very.”

Juyeon sniffled and clasped a palm over his mouth. “Ugh, this is so romantic. You guys look so happy together. I need to tell Eric and Indigo about this.”

“Man,” Hyunjae feigned exasperation, but even he couldn’t hide the large grin on his face, “I really thought this was gonna be more dramatic. Glad you guys really were just sneaking around and dating and stuff, and not like, hiding a body or anything.”

You and Changmin looked at each other again and produced similar sounds bordering on a suspicious level of nervousness. “Yeah… definitely nothing like that.”

The other three were, unfortunately, sharper than you liked to give them credit for. “Wait, what do you mean—”

“Bye now!” Changmin whisked you out of the apartment unit with a slam of the front door. Yours and his giggles wrapped around one another as you left, leaving your dumbfounded friends high and dry.

When you and Changmin had escaped to the end of the hallway by the stairs, you finally released the breath you had been holding. Keeping Changmin's secret was one thing, but lying to your friends was another. What you claimed back there wasn't a total lie, but in this case, perhaps ignorance was bliss. You didn't doubt your friends would be supportive of Changmin's heritage, but if it was something he wanted to continue to keep undisclosed, then that was his prerogative and it was not your truth to reveal.

Yours and Changmin's hands remained intertwined as you made your way back down to the lobby. Since his apartment was clearly occupied, you would need to find somewhere else to speak privately. The answer came in the form of a park nearby, who's trails and pathways were rather vacant at this time of day.

Changmin locked his bike and helmet up at the park's entrance before his hand found yours again. “We are dating now, right?”

You snorted. “That's the first thing on the agenda?”

“Well, yes,” he beamed boyishly at you, swinging your hands between your bodies. “Are you saying that what you told them back there was really a lie?”

“I mean, no,” you stammered. Heat prickled beneath the surface of your skin and you fought to avoid his direct gaze, so knowing. “We are dating, if you're okay with it.”

“Sure.”

“Sure?” you squawked. Such indignation in that pretty boy smile of his. Your expression flattened into a deadpan. “I suppose I do have something to confess before we put a label on it.”

Changmin smiled to himself. “This is the moment you tell me you're a serial killer, isn't it?”

“You're really sick in the head,” you joked back. “But no, I mean that… well—hear me out: that night at the party when I was asleep? I may or may not have possessed your body.”

Changmin halted so abruptly that you were almost yanked back into his body from your linked hands. “What?”

You squeaked out a nervous laugh. “It's not, y'know, that big of a deal. It was only for a few seconds, and it really could have just been déjà vu or something.”

“No. No, it makes sense.” He shook his head, then pressed the black of his knuckles to his pursed lips, eyebrows creased together in a pensive stare. “My mind wasn't the most stable, so I wouldn't have been able to stop you from coming across the soul bond. It's just an interesting notion to consider; I've never heard of a case like this before.”

“Ah.” You were glad he wasn't bringing up the utter irony of the situation. “Maybe you can ask Aunt Jenna, and I bet most demons don't regularly come across that potion very often.”

Changmin cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “That's true. There is something that I've been meaning to tell you though. I don't know if you remember the random headaches I used to get” —you hummed your acknowledgement— “but it was apparently because I, and other demons in this area, were inflicted by a curse.”

Your face shuddered. A curse? How long had he been holding onto this?

His mouth set into a line. “I didn't want to worry you, but my being half human pretty much saved my life. It was… something from the Book of the Diabolical—a curse that stole energy from one being to transfer to another.”

The Book of the Diabolical rang a distant bell in your head. “That's really scary,” you murmured.

“I—I know,” he said, taking you by your arms, “but I'm working with another demon on campus to solve it. It shouldn't affect you at all because they've only been targeting demons, but—”

“That's incredibly worrying for you to say—”

He exhaled, “I know, I know. I can take care of myself though, especially now that I have this other demon to help.” Changmin's grip on your body tightened, but not to an uncomfortable degree. His possession of your gaze was even more secure; there was an urgency within him that compelled you. “I'm telling you this now because… because I can't stomach the thought of you getting hurt, and I need you to promise me to be careful.”

You brought your hand up to cover the back of one of his. “But you said this curse only affects demons,” you whispered.

“Yes, but” —he cut himself off, tearing his eyes away for a moment. He bit his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. “I just have a very, very bad feeling about something.”

“Then tell me what it is,” you pushed. There was no way you could safeguard yourself if you didn't know what he was worried about.

Changmin considered you for a moment, then in a low voice, said, “It's about Lee Chan. I know you're friends with him, but I just can't put my finger on how he's connected to all of this.” Your eyes fell away from his, and his heart stuttered in his chest. His palm was gentle as he ran his thumb over your cheek. “Please. Please just be careful, sweetheart.” Please believe me.

At last, you nodded and slowly raised your head up to meet his eyes once more. “Okay,” you said, “I promise.”

There was a beat of hesitation in his heartbeat again—he couldn't bear to be without his other half.

Your conversation with Changmin was severed short when he received a call from his demonic friend—a Kim Hongjoong—about an update regarding the curse's residual essence. He biked you to your apartment complex first, walking you to your door. He left soon after, but not before bestowing a lingering kiss to your brow, the words between the stressed lines of his eyes imploring.

You promised to call him tonight, and you shouldered your way into your apartment. Your heart had not ceased to stop rattling in its confines since Changmin admitted his wariness about Chan. You didn't know why you didn't immediately agree with him then and tell him about your thoughts from the hospital day, but your thoughts whipped around in your mind, trapped in a violent rip current.

The reason you had looked away from him earlier was not because you doubted him, but because you feared those whispers of suspicion were quickly becoming your reality. It was a grave accusation to name Chan specifically, and to even suspect him having a hand in recent diabolical deeds, but you couldn't deny that your view of him was morphing into something else.

It wasn't right, you thought. Lee Chan was the sun—bright and warm. He wouldn't hurt a fly. Right?

You fumbled for the lights in your darkened apartment. It was strange that your roommates weren't home; usually they would have been. You suppressed a yawn as you failed to find the light switch for some reason. Had you been this tired all day? Your eyelids were growing heavier and heavier by the second…

“Shit,” you muttered as your foot hit something solid on the floor. Your fingers caught the switch and light flooded into the room.

A gasp tore out of your throat. By your foot laid the body of one of your roommates, her limbs splayed sporadically, but her chest still rising and falling with breath. (Asleep?) You lifted your head, and a dooming chill fell over you as you realized that the body on the couch was your second roommate; and there—the third's hand poked out from behind the kitchen counter.

There was another aspect to survival instinct. It launched into effect as soon as you spotted a figure emerge from your periphery.

You whipped around and reached for the door handle, but to no avail. A strong arm caged around your middle and slapped over your mouth. Whatever was on his hands—dry, chalky—dragged a cough from your throat. Though your heart pounded in merciless rhythm, it seemed only to work to your detriment.

“Can't let you do that,” said the voice behind you, gruffly. It was familiar.

The world grew darker… dimmer… your body's thrashing slowed. You screamed and attempted to flail around, desperate to get free. Why the Hell was your body getting weaker? Why—why were you tired—

Just before you surrendered to unconsciousness, the epiphany slammed into you like a truck. The worst part was it was way too fucking late.

If desperate people found faith, then Lee Chan was admittedly the most desperate of them all. Most people—humans, it should be clarified—found faith with the established religions of the world. There were truly far too many to count, but desperate and depressed ten year old boys were more resourceful than others gave them credit for.

The problem was that Chan was a creature made whole by the love imparted onto him by you and his older sister, as well as the neglect and hatred sown by his parents. It made for a dynamic persona—a soul torn asunder by the people he yearned for most. He wished his parents could have cared more, then perhaps he wouldn't have cared so much.

(Though, if they had cared even an inch more than they had, he wouldn't have traded their lives for Chaeyoung's in the first place… maybe he would have still done it, but he might have regretted it, at least.)

Wasn't there a definable point when a hero became a villain? No, he didn't like thinking of himself in those terms. “Protagonist” and “antagonist” were far too restricting. It was similar to the stigma surrounding the forbidden tome of curses in his possession; why was it forbidden if it was so very useful?

The only thing was that it lacked the spell he seemed to need most right now: a spell to convince you of the pure evil you had bound your soul to. Whether it was inadvertent or purposeful, Chan would do you a favor: by severing the demonic soul bond, he could save you—his beloved little sister. He could save you and protect you from an ill-begotten fate.

But even as he settled your unconscious body over the summoning circle sketched in confident, chalk strokes, he racked his brain for any possible reason why you were bound. To what end was your bargain with Changmin? Were you so desperate as to strike a doomed deal with a half-demon? He considered your face with a frown; even in sleep, your browser were furrowed with stress. He needed to get a move on.

The Book of the Diabolical laid open atop your desk where he had pushed it into the corner. The entirety of your room was rearranged in order to give him a wide berth to work—bed shoved to the far reaches, drawers and file boxes relegated to the closet. The middle of the room featured your body over his summoning circle, rounded out with burned phlox candles who's scent suffocated the room in its bitterness.

Chan hunched over the book and consulted the line of curse he had tabbed with a sea otter sticky note. Over the past several years of his life, he dedicated himself to learning how to decode the old dialect of this tome in order to use it to its full reaches. “Asmantha's star for summoning, check. Burned phlox, mhm. Conscious blood of the victim…” his voice trailed off as he caught miniscule movement from the corner of his eye. “You're awake already? What a weak spell.”

Your body stilled. “Chan…?”

“Just another minute,” he promised and reached into his backpack down by his feet. He withdrew a slim paring knife he had brought with him from his apartment. “This'll all be over soon.”

His eyes scanned over the lines of directions. Without looking back at you, he said, “I also wouldn't do that if I were you.”

You froze with your fingertips centimeters away from the edge of the summoning circle. If your nail had so much as crossed the line, your body would have been rendered paralyzed. It wasn't a pleasant feeling—Chan knew from experience—but it was a necessary evil.

“What are you doing to me? What is all this?” you queried, your voice as small as a mouse's.

He could feel your eyes go to the paring knife in his grip, and the thought occurred to him that it was troubling you. Chan turned around then with a reassuring smile, only to be met by your eyes, so round with fear. Oh. “Yn, this is for your own good,” he crooned sweetly with all the boyishness that you were used to. “I'm just doing you a favor. I know demon bonds are really hard to get rid of. They're nasty things, but I have a way to do it with minimal damage.”

You eyed him warily from your side of the line. “You mean a soul bond?”

Chan barked out a laugh. “Is that what he called it? Fucking disgusting,” he spat. Every molecule in his body boiled with anger—for you, of course. How dare Changmin fool you into some romantic vision of such a treacherous, vile thing? “I don't expect you to understand right now, especially if he's gotten into your head, but I'm going to help you.”

“Help me? I don't need any help—”

“You’ll thank me later,” he interjected with a click of his tongue. He nodded his head toward you. “Now hold out your hand. I just need a little bit of blood, and we'll be done.”

You scrambled backward on your hands. “What? No.”

Annoyance twitched in his jaw, but his chest twisted with something heavier. You were so far gone… if he didn't act now, it would be too late. “I'll come in there myself if I have to,” he replied and rose to his feet.

Wild, unbridled fear flashed across your face as your head swiveled around. You were trapped between a knife and the circle bounds, prey meeting predator.

Chan stepped into the summoning circle, brimming with determination. The spell's incantation swam fresh in the forefront of his mind, locked and loaded upon his tongue for the proper moment. His thumb ran over the flat side of the blade and he stalked over the chalk markings. “I only need a little,” he reassured you.

“Don't do this,” you sputtered, “please! You don't have to break the bond.”

Your words only spurred him on. Chan lunged for your ankle, and you rolled out of the way, the crown of your head narrowly missing the edge of the circle. It was to your slight advantage that he had drawn the thing so fucking large, but it only gave the lion more room to play with his food.

Rich purple fractured across his irises and you could no longer dismiss it as just a trick of the light. Stupid. You had been so fucking stupid.

He pounced again. The breath flew out of your lungs as you hit the ground, your hand grasping his knife wrist where it was poised above your cheek. Your entire body shook as you held him back. “Stop,” you cried. “Why are you doing this? Chan, we're friends.”

“That's exactly why,” he grunted and used his body weight and gravity to inch the blade down further.

Pure adrenaline was all that kept your limbs from failing. Sweat collected between the grooves of your palms and fingers, your heart racing at two hundred beats a second. Every ounce of energy went toward survival. “I don't” —you heaved at his wrist to get it to move away— “understand.”

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. Tears had welled up in the linings, trickling down onto your face. Agony contorted his own, flushed, as he exerted every exhausted bone in his body. He'd used so much of his energy lately. “I can't have you end up like me,” he said through gritted teeth. “And if I can't save noona, I can still save you.”

He slammed the knife down.

Your head jerked out of the way, just as the tip of the blade crunched into the wood floor.

Before you could tumble out of the way, he snatched the front of your throat with his free hand and pinned you in place. Your hands whipped up to your neck, desperately clawing at his fingers and knuckles, your airways narrowing. Blood from his hand trickled down from your angry marks, a river of red flowing to stain your own skin.

“Please,” you choked out.

He didn't listen. You felt the bite of steel; blood, hot and thick, bubbled out of the cut and dripped down the side of your face onto the floor like a tear.

Chan kept his hand around your throat. His eyes, drowning in his own sorrow, never left your face. You once knew his eyes, but the purple that corrupted them struck you with fear. “Utimana catenia ab eterno effodiant sycut sol ad auroramae. Abi, daemon. Abi, daemon!”

You never thought you'd ever feel that same searing pain from the hospital ever again, but this was much worse. A guttural scream tore out of your throat with more wind than volume. Someone had dug their way into your body and was ripping their way out. They buried their fingernails and were shredding your muscle, cracking your bones apart, and they wouldn't stop until they saw the cold light of day.

The physical sensation—it was no clean slice. When a rope was pulled under strain, every fiber unwound until it snapped. You couldn't breathe. Every fiber of your being, physical and metaphysical, clung onto the soul on the other end of the line.

The rope splintered. Only then did you lay still.

Air once again flooded into your lungs, but your chest ached and ached and ached. Your throat burned from your crying. Your head hit the ground beneath you and you pawed at your sternum. The negative space was so damn loud. He wasn't there—he wasn't there—

“Yn?” A shaky voice, small and childlike. Chan's face appeared above in your line of sight with worry written stark over his face. “He's gone now.”

He's gone now. A cough boiled up in your throat, and you turned your head to hack up the residual blood. It was as if something truly had broken in your body. An entire piece of you was missing.

When you remained silent, Chan dragged himself up to his feet. “You’ll be grateful one day, you know? I'll clean this up and leave you be—”

You didn't have the heart or strength to lift your head, but you heard what happened next.

Chan's breath caught, followed by sounds of growling protest. There was a foreign voice or two over by the doorway. Take him to the Third Circle. We'll deal with him later.

The heart in your chest, its beats weak, stuttered into a pitiful skip as if it could sense the other half of it approaching. A face appeared in your view, his eyes wet and blood seeping from his nose. “Yn?” he rasped, wiping the blood with the back of his hand.

His blond hair hung in his eyes as you peered up at him. Your body relaxed in the presence of the one it yearned for most.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking, as he dipped his head to touch his forehead to yours. I'm so sorry I'm late, so sorry I let him hurt you. You could feel his body shake with silent cries. “I am so fucking sorry.”

“He said you were gone,” you managed to croak with your hoarse voice. Your nose and eyes stung with oncoming tears, and as soon as the dam broke, you could not reverse it.

“I'm right here,” he assured you. His arms wrapped around your body and pulled you up toward his chest.

“It hurts.” You pressed a hand to your chest where the gaping chasm now sat. You didn't know how deep your soul laid within, bruised and battered. “Are you okay?”

Changmin loosened a wet chuckle from his mouth, holding the side of your face tenderly. “I should be asking you that. I was so scared—Hell—” Loss was a unique feeling. It was strange because you were right here in his arms, but no amount of proximity soothed the visceral throbbing in his chest. He once was whole, one part loved and the other part loving. But what was done, was done: the goal you and Changmin originally had in mind was accomplished, but neither of you were sure that you wanted it anymore.

The two figures you didn't recognize approached the summoning circle. One was a boy who looked human enough, but with eyes that seemed too sharp. The other beside him was a woman with gray hair, styled to coiffed perfection as a bed for the pair of curled black horns jutting out from the crown of her head.

You struggled into an upright position and leaned back against Changmin. “And” —you cleared the congestion in your throat— “you are?”

“Kim Hongjoong,” said the former with a sad tilt to his smile. He gestured to the woman. “My colleague, Amari.”

“Prince of Hell and Magika Supreme,” Changmin muttered into your ear.

Your eyes went wide. “Should I bow?”

Hongjoong waved his hands in front of him. “No need. Are you feeling alright though? Soul bonds are… they aren't the easiest things to live without once you've had one.”

“You know what it feels like?”

“Definitely not,” he said sheepishly. “But I can guess. Changmin collapsed when he felt his end was devastated. I, uhm, imagine that your experience was similar.” The prince lowered himself into a crouch to be eye level with the two of you. “Your friend—the one who did this to you.”

Your throat squeezed tight with the phantom of his hand around it. “Chan?” you stammered. “What's happened to him?”

“We've taken him into custody,” the Magika Supreme replied with a low voice and perfect posture. “Did you know that he had a copy of the Book of the Diabolical?”

There was that title again. You shook your head, but pointed in the direction of your desk. “That thing? I didn't know what it was until now. He—he had it when I was at the hospital with him yesterday.”

“Do you know how long he's had it in his possession?”

You were about to answer, when Changmin cut in. “With all due respect,” he swallowed, “Yn deserves her rest, not an interrogation.”

Hongjoong exchanged glances with Amari, then nodded and rose to his feet. “Fair enough. We'll help you clean up and be on our way—”

“Wait.” You didn't expect them to listen to you. “I need to know what happened. I don't—I still don't understand.” When had everything gone wrong for your friend? In your mind's eye, you could picture the canyon that spanned yours and Chan's relationship, the tattered bridge hanging listlessly over the gorge. You could not banish his words from your head: I can't let you end up like me. And if I can't save noona, I can still save you.

Hongjoong pressed his lips together. “Your friend has been using that book of curses for a very long time to steal energy and transfer it to his sister. Recently, your Changmin and many others fell victim to one of them.”

Your hand fell over where Changmin's rested across your middle. Could he feel the guilt sloshing in the pit of your stomach like turbulent waves?

“We believe he targeted demons specifically because of a deal he made with a demon in his past.” A shadow fell over the prince's face, and you read the grave sadness embedded there. “He must have held a grudge against our kind since that rotten deal.”

It made sense. As much as it caused bile to creep up your throat, the pieces were slipping into place. The pure, venomous loathing he directed toward Changmin and the soul bond—if he had experienced a demonic bargain before, he would not only be aware of the existence of the supernatural, but the nature of such soul-binding deals.

Chan had done it for Chaeyoung—that conclusion wrung you through the deepest pits of Hell and destroyed you. He'd done it to save her life, but it hadn't been enough.

“What's going to happen to her?” The bloody tissues and crude scratches of her coughing crushed into your mind. “She didn't ask for any of this.” They said she's getting worse.

The Magika Supreme was the one who answered. “The energy Lee Chan stole and imbued her with was corrupted, which is unfortunately why Miss Lee's condition is worsening.”

An idea manifested in your head and you shifted to sit up out of Changmin's hold. “Then can you—”

“Yn,” Changmin lamented, predicting where your mind had wandered.

“—save her? Could you save her? Is there any way?” Someone titled with Magika Supreme must have the power or authority to achieve something like this. Chan's love for his sister fundamentally fueled all of his actions. Every malicious deed he pulled, every incantation he uttered, had been with the intent to save Chaeyoung from a fate she could not control. You wished his desperation hadn't shoved him over the edge; you wished he never had reason to get to such a point.

Amari paused, but not because she was uncertain of the possibility. She passed a glance to her prince, then to Changmin, before returning to you. “Of course, there is always a way, but it would require something in return.”

“Name it.”

Changmin grappled onto your arm. “Yn, you're walking into another soul bond. Please, just think about this first,” he implored, forcing you to look him in his wide eyes, dark and entreating.

It was reckless, you knew, but Chaeyoung was dying. Her brother tried all his life to lead her from a fate she couldn't control, but it only doomed her more. Were you simply continuing the cycle or could you do something good for her?

“The difference between your friend's magic—” you and Changmin's attention flitted over to Hongjoong, “—and the Magika Supreme's is that the latter won't be using corrupt magic to steal corrupted energy.” Hongjoong's smile was something warm and reassuring. What an effortless prince he made. “Whatever healing magic she'll use will work without crippling Chaeyoung's health more. Though, I can't promise about side effects; nature is a difficult divinity to fight against.”

Right. You blindly curled your fingers with Changmin's and the touch eased the throbbing in your chest. “What would you ask for in return?”

“You would be called to testify against Chan in our court,” Hongjoong stated, but not unkindly. “Take your time to think about it. I'm sure Changmin has my number.”

In the blink of an eye, Hongjoong and Amari were before you one second, then gone without a trace. A light gust of wind brushed past your face as the only evidence of magic being used. Beneath you, your floors were rid of the summoning circle and candles; and the Book of the Diabolical had disappeared from your table.

You and Changmin took your time returning your room to its former state. Your roommates outside in the main living space had all woken up from their forced slumber, their minds blank of the events leading up to Chan's ambush.

The emptiness in your chest left none to be desired. You sat in bed with your head against Changmin's shoulder, his hand playing with yours while your other rubbed your chest absentmindedly. No matter how much pressure you put, the chasm remained. Staying close to Changmin though remained second nature.

“What're you thinking about?” he murmured into your hair.

You tilted your nose up to graze his pulse. “How I'm going to tell Chaeyoung about this. She deserves to know what happened to Chan, at least.”

Changmin gave a slow nod. “I agree.”

Your eyes flickered up to his. “You're okay with me telling her? I can leave you out of it.”

“No, that's okay. She doesn't really know me,” he chuckled, that dimple impressing into his cheek. His smile widened as you leaned over and pressed your lips to it. “Are you feeling alright though? After everything?”

There wasn't much you could express with your words at the moment. How did one describe the loss of a friend? And how did one string together the words to tell someone that they loved them, that they were both the remedy and reason for the pounding of your heart? You did not know either for the time being. “It’ll take some getting used to.”

“What? The hole in your soul?” He pressed his palm flat against the center of his chest to feel the distant beat of his heart, slow, solid, and steady.

“That, and not being able to possess you.”

Changmin squawked in indignation. “And you say I'm the creep?”

“You literally still are!”

Both yours and Changmin's laughter lit up the dark, one spurring on the other. Though, if the shadows truly claimed him, then he was the night to your day; the other half for your whole; the one. Even if this entanglement began as an accident, all of the love you held for him was fully intentional. You would keep it safe in your chest, where he would always belong.

[the cast of incantations will return... maybe?]

a/n: IMPORTANT!!! i would like to write a follow-up/sequel to not only continue the plotline, but to also get a chance to better explore minor character dynamics, subplots with loose ends, and the literal fallout of these events because leaving it here is VERY unsatisfying. it would fulfill my creative needs esp since this was written under an extreme time constraint, but i also won't feel inclined to unless u reblog TT so pls. reblog and lmk what u thought ! thank u so much for reading :')

#deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #bjnet #ji changmin x reader #dbn: boyz who bite #changmin x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #ji changmin oneshots #changmin oneshot #ji changmin drabbles #changmin drabble

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reallyhatethiswebsite · 4 months ago

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for @ultrakatua (she's to blame) Yurgir/Raphael ass eating lol

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. Perfectly serious.”

“You’re telling me to lick your asshole. Don’t you have a damn incubus for that?”

“Your lack of decorum, quite frankly, is a large part of why you’re being re-educated this way, Yurgir.”

“Re-educated. Right. Teach me then, where’s the decorum in eating your ass, Raphael?”

“Watch your tone. I can make amendments to your contract at any moment I choose, lest you forget.”

“As if I could fucking forget.”

“And for your information, this is your first lesson in humility. You may have ruled your fetid roost in Shar’s temple, but you are in my house now. It is time you learned exactly what that means.”

That was how the mighty Yurgir, once a feared hunter and powerful fiend, found himself on his knees in Raphael’s boudoir, the master of the house naked – every inch of ribbed cherry-red skin on display – as he bent over the arm of a chaise, hideously amused, waiting for Yurgir’s humiliation to begin.

The first tentative, reluctant lick of Yurgir’s huge, hot and rough and leathery tongue between Raphael’s fatty cheeks had the pampered cambion prince groaning. It wasn’t enough. Not enough pressure, not enough force. That big fiend really and clearly did not want to do this, and Raphael relished the thought (enough to chub up his cock even on a bad day) but he needed more. He shifted his feet, shifted his weight and position over the chaise, and pushed his ass firmly into Yurgir’s face. He smirked when the orthorn sputtered, grunted in surprise, but didn’t let his sadistic amusement carry in his voice.

“Is that truly the best you’ve got, captain? Maybe I’ll still send you to the pits as a lemure after all.”

“Shut. Up.” Growled Yurgir. He grabbed big handfuls of Raphael’s backside, digging his claws into the flesh. He spread those soft red cheeks, exposing Raphael’s puckered, twitching little crimson hole and his fat balls hanging below it. Raphael exhaled when his asshole touched cool air. Gasped when Yurgir leaned in and took a deep breath through his snout. “Perfumed even down here…but I can still smell your taint, trickster. Your musk. As much as you pretend this is for my punishment, I can taste how desperate you are to have your shithole tongue-fucked.”

“Get on with it,” Raphael hissed. He didn’t deny the accusation. Couldn’t. His cock was almost full-mast already. Yurgir rumbled a deep chuckle. His next lick was harder, broader. The curl of his tongue cupped and caressed the tight skin of Raphael’s scrotum, trailed up his perineum, flattened on the velvet of his asshole and stayed there for a moment. Raphael squirmed irritably, looking for friction. Yurgir did not give him any, instead sinking his claws deeper. Thin rivulets of scalding, fiendish blood trickled from the small wounds. The cambion seemed to like the pain. His tail, that he’d been keeping aloft, began to thump and sway. “Yes. Come on, beast. Give me more or I’ll have you vivisected and put on display in my foyer. You won’t be dead, either. Mmm…perhaps I’ll do that anyway…” The idea excited Raphael, if the throb of his cock and the bead of pearlescent precum peeking out from his glans was anything to judge.

“I’m sick of your voice,” snapped the orthorn. Squeezed harder, thinking about crushing Raphael’s pelvis to dust within his huge paws. Cambions were sturdy fuckers. It would take a lot of strength to turn them into pulp. A lot of violence. Yurgir’s massive, flaccid prick twitched with interest.

“Is that so?” Raphael turned his head to smile maliciously at Yurgir over his shoulder, alluringly obscured by the flutter of his wing, his cheeks flushed a darker red, eyes glittering with sadistic satisfaction. “Would you prefer a song instead?”

Never fucking mind. “Bastard,” snarled Yurgir, sharp and angry, but he went to work, because he couldn’t do anything else. If this poncy pissant put another song in his head, Yurgir would scoop his own brains out and stomp on them himself.

Fine, then. He’d done worse than lick a cambion’s asshole before.

Still holding Raphael’s cheeks, Yurgir licked the length of him again, leaving a trail of hot slobber. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of bursting Raphael’s balls between his tusks like overripe grapes, but the punishment wouldn’t be worth it – and there was always the chance the devil would enjoy that. Instead he focused on that wrinkled, pulsing hole, lapping at it like an oversized tiger licking flesh from the bone. He swirled the tip of his tongue around the wet rim of Raphael’s entrance, coaxing it to open. The devil exhaled shakily, spread his thighs apart a little further, pressed a hand into the cushion of the chaise to keep himself steady. Yet still, he did not stay quiet.

“That’s it. I had an inkling you were a dab hand at servicing, especially on your knees. It seems I was right. As I often am.”

Yurgir ignored him. He was beginning to understand how this cambion worked. Saying anything would only feed into his megalomania – the same way stuffing his face into Raphael’s taint was feeding his ego, his sexual sadism, but Yurgir knew you had to pick your battles. Much as it burned like sour acid in his throat, he had to give Raphael a modicum of respect. The man certainly knew how to get what he wanted. That didn’t mean Yurgir would give in gently, however. Gentle wasn’t in his nature. Without preamble, the moment he felt Raphael’s sphincter loosen, Yurgir forced the entire length and girth of his enormous tongue into the tight, hot cavern of the devil’s ass. The way it clenched around him, the earthy musky taste, wasn’t unpleasant at all, in truth.

“By the Hells!” Raphael cursed, his composure momentarily faltering as his body shuddered and stiffened, grappled with the sudden large intrusion. Yurgir grinned at the small victory, spit painting his fiendish lips. He felt Raphael’s asshole stretching to its limit around his tongue.

Good. He hoped it hurt.

He tongue-fucked Raphael ruthlessly, barely giving the cambion any time to breathe. In, out, lathing the rough texture of his slippery muscle all over the devil’s warm and spongey inner walls. He knew every time he licked over Raphael’s prostate because the devil would hiss, mutter in Infernal, rock his hips. He knew Raphael was desperately fisting his drooling cock because he could hear the slide of skin on skin over the obscene sounds of messy ass-to-mouth.

He knew he wanted to pull the devil’s fucking tail clean off his body because it kept whipping him as it thrashed. The next time it coiled by his ear, a serpent ready to strike, Yurgir snatched it in one paw and yanked. The sinewy tail stayed attached, but Raphael moaned, a husky, throaty sound belying the truth of his Hellish nature. Who’d have thought this prissy bastard liked receiving pain as much as he liked inflicting it. And he just kept fucking talking. As aroused by the sound of his own voice as the tongue in his ass.

“Truly you were the mightiest of your brood. A brutal, unflinching armageddon upon all you came across. And here you are, utterly at my mercy. Ah…and it is mercy, I assure you, for the things I could have done to you would put Asmodeus’ Inquisitors to shame. You should be thanking me for my boundless compassion, but we’ll work on that in the future. The only future you will ever know. Me. Raphael. I am your future.”

Yurgir knew these nonsensical words weren’t being spoke to him, but at him. In a final effort to shut him up, Yurgir pressed his face flush with Raphael’s dimpled backside and sucked hard on his quivering rim. The devil choked on his words, pulled in a harsh breath through his nose, grunting as he climaxed. His insides tightened on Yurgir’s tongue. The hand on his shaft pumped erratically. His wings flexed with pleasure. Ropes of cum splattered out of his cock, stained the chaise, dripped onto the floor. He didn’t seem to care. Yurgir pulled away the second he figured out that Raphael was cumming; dragged his tongue free as horribly as possible. He rose to his full height and sneered. Rubbed his aching jaw.

“Good enough for you?”

Raphael took his time collecting himself. Making Yurgir wait. The orthorn watched in mild disdain as Raphael suckled his own spend off his fingers, stretched luxuriously like a satisfied house cat. Blinked lazily, that damned tail swaying mockingly.

“Adequate, I suppose,” he said. Clicked his fingers and he was fully dressed again, immaculate, not a hair out of place. He glanced at Yurgir like he was a smear of dirt beneath his boot. “But your worshipping techniques and lack of fervor leave a lot to be desired. We’ll convene again tomorrow for another lesson. And I expect you to clean up this mess, by the way.”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x yurgir #yurgir #fanfic #cringe #bg3

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tryingtofindava · 1 year ago

Note

eyeless jack dating headcanons pls :)

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

He broke into your apartment with the intentions of harvesting your organs.

When he held the scalpel to your hip, and you began to stir awake. Mf froze.

Oh shit.

“What the fuck?”

Now bro only kills to eat, and when he does, he make sure it’s as painless for the victim as possible (unless he’s in a frenzy).

And That so called victim being awake? That just makes it 100x harder to get the task done.

And when you wake up to see a 6’6 man with an oddly terrifying blue mask holding a scalpel to your hip?

You (rightfully) freak tf out.

He’s not a sadist like some ppl… (cough Jeff Cough) So he probably awkwardly retreated back out to your window.

Anywayssss.

To the actual dating headcanons now.

You guys probably had a longgggggg ass slow burn. (not the only thing that’s long…)

The two of you definitely acted like a couple, before you were ACTUALLY a couple iykwim.

You find it so cool that your bfs a demon. He doesn’t really understand your excitement about it, since it’s literally a curse for him.

This boy is a walking furnace, he’s so cozy. So lots of winter cuddle sessions. Also perfect for when you on your period.

He purrs in his sleep. You can’t change my mind. You guys be cuddling on the couch all cute n’ shit and then there’s this soft buzzing sound… You crack open your eyes to look at him. His head on your lap as he naps.

“Babe… Are you purring?”

You asked with the biggest grin ever.

“…No.”

He likes when you read to him, he struggles to see (ik ik, he’s eyeless n shit, but I like to think he can still see, it’s js rlly rlly blurry or he has that heat vision where he can see body temps.) So when you can’t read to him, he just listens to audio books.

He’s a gentle giant towards you, y’all literally so cute. AND A GENTLEMAN🤭 he’s the whole damn package (minus the whole… cannibal eating ppl thing.)

He has animalistic like senses. So he can hear, and smell very well. So he can smell when you change your perfume or shampoo.

Imagine him leaning down to hug you (since you’re prob shorter than this tall ahh mf, nah seriously use the Hikaku sitatter site) and his face is buried in the crook of your neck. He’ll say shit like-

“Did you change you’re perfume to Miss Dior Eau De Parfum 30ml?”

“Wha-“

When he started getting comfortable taking his mask off around you, everytime he does you call him ‘Pretty boy’ 🤭.

HE WILL FOLD. Partially bcs he likes getting praised. Partially bcs he’s not a fan of the whole demon look.

His morning voice is literally so sexy help. Frothing at the mouth, on my knees barking.

Yk when you have like a sore head, and then you ask Google what’s up and Google’s all like ‘lol bitch you’re gonna die.’ You ask him about it obviously freaked out and he had to reassure your fine.

Walks in the rain at like 4am.

Every time he sees you, he’ll give you a quick forehead kiss.

Pls pls pls pls pls pls pls, I’m begging you. On my knees and begging for you to not look inside his mini fridge he has sitting in your storage room. Thank u.

He’s got some pretty gnarly things in there. Just be thankful he has the decency to not cross contaminate that shit with your food.

You guys slow dance in the kitchen to Mitski. He spins you around and all that cute shit.

He’s overprotective of you, and when you do get him to come out in public with you, he will growl at anyone that gets a little too close for his likings.

Wearing his hoodie<3. It just makes his dead heart happy.

SASSY MAN APOCALYPSE‼️💯💥

He may seem all quiet and sweet. But he’s sassy af. This. Dude. Has. Attitude.

When you’re telling him to do something in a tone, he’ll mouth you’re words with his hands.

When you guys are cuddling in your bed at night, he’ll randomly nibble on your neck to shoulder. He has sharp ass teeth so it’s a bit nippy, but he makes sure to be extra careful to not draw blood.

He smothers you when you’re under the weather. He’s literally so sweet omfg.

When you guys argue which is like 10% of the time, it takes awhile for him to get agitated. But even when he does he will NEVER raise his hands to you. Other than that he keeps calm.

He will though, get a bit mean, he probably doesn’t mean what he says it’s just a defence mechanism.

He makes it up to you with a cute little gift basket (he stole it.)

Y’all have probably kissed, and he still had the taste of blood in his mouth from eating someone’s kidneys<3

He can’t steal your organs but he can deffo rearrange them ;)

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

#creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x y/n #eyeless Jack headcanon #creepypasta reader #creepypasta headcanon #creepy pasta x reader hc #creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x you #eyeless jack headcanon

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years ago

Text

the weekend | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | fwb, sm*t, angst

⇢ WC: 13.8k

⇢ WARNINGS: alright boyz strap in bc it's a doozy lmao, protected s*x, multiple org*sms (m & f), or*l s*x (m receiving), face f*ck, f*ngering, rough s*x, face slapping, sp*nking, exh*bitionism, sir k*nk, t*tty f*ck, t*tty sucking (duh), body piercings (n*pples), age gap (reader is 23 and jk is like 30), infid*lity (reader is the other woman), ch*king, overst*mulation, sp*tting, man handling, finger s*cking, d*m jk, brief mentions of past add*ction, implied passing of a bby (mainly subtext w no details given), maybe unrequited love, maybe not (EVIL CACKLE), some dark thoughts discussed (nothing too graphic or detailed), fighting n yelling n crying yikes, all of these characters are v flawed (except for yul duh), cute bby moments!!, oc is v immature n naive n contradicts herself a lot, she maybe has a thing for older guys bc of that, some bl*od (just a scrape on the knee but ik bl*od can be triggering), this relationship is extremely toxic and not meant to be desired!!!, one homage to trixie mattel lmao

⇢ SUMMARY: every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

⇢ NOTES: so after months and months of planning this fic (i literally posted the teaser in JANUARY UM??), it's finally here. i think this is my fav thing i've written thus far and i worked v hard on this! would love to know ur thoughts, feedback is always appreciated!! ty @/taegularities for betaing!! (for whatever reason, this fic refuses to show up in tags n it sucks n nothing i do fixes it so i shall leave it be lol)

You can't tell what’s louder—the crunch of dewy, end-of-summer grass pricking the soft skin of your thighs like angry thorns, or the cracking of bones as your body thumps to the ground from your bedroom window.

“Ah-” the whine is quickly stifled by a sharp hiss as you remember your dad’s sleeping figure is just behind the wall next to you. “Ouch,” you whimper, praying that the crash hasn’t reached his watchful ears. Carefully, you climb to your feet, brushing the dirt off your bare legs. You spot a fresh crimson scrape on your knee.

Fucking great.

Finally, after days of longing and waiting, the weekend has arrived. Today, in particular, is a fantastic day. You were trying to look sexy, and blood isn't exactly the sexiest accessory. Bringing your wrist up to your nose, you inhale the candy-scented liquid you had doused yourself in before leaving.

Perfume still in check, thank fuck.

Goosebumps form on your skin as you take long, dutiful strides, cool night mist gliding through the thin material of your long silk shirt. You’ve committed this path to memory—out the window, usually in a more graceful manner, through the neighbor’s yard, and then straight down the sidewalk to the black Mercedes Benz waiting for you at the end of the road.

If you hadn’t done this a million and one times already, you might’ve missed the vehicle, so dark that it blends into the night seamlessly. You can’t help but wonder if that’s his goal entirely.

Still, the excitement of it all makes you walk a little faster.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you smile as you slide into his black leather passenger seat, leaning over the center console to give his cheek a gentle peck. Maybe you’ve overstepped a boundary and muddied the lines in the sand of your… relationship, but you can’t help yourself. Seeing Jungkook was always a treat, one you looked forward to every Friday night for the past five months.

“Hi,” he says impassively, eyes darting over your figure. A loose strand of hair dangles in front of his eyes, teasing you. “You’re wearing makeup?”

“Oh, um…” You’re at a loss for words; surprised he noticed such a slight change in your appearance. Although his perceptiveness was something you noted shortly after you began working for him, you can’t help but feel flustered. “Yeah, I… wanted to look nice tonight. Totally busted my ass climbing out the window,” you laugh.

“Did you get hurt?” His straight brows furrow slightly, silver piercing reflecting the moonlight.

“Just a scratch.” You lift your leg to show him the red mark on your knee. “Didn’t break anything, though, so that’s a plus.”

Wordlessly, Jungkook reaches over, popping open the glove compartment before you and pulling out the first aid kit he keeps there for emergencies. The scent of clean linen wafts over you from his daily cologne. His scent. Only his. You try your best to subdue the possessive smirk forming. “You should be more careful.”

“I’m okay.”

“Be more careful,” he commands, peering up at you with an icy gaze. “Got it?”

Whether it’s the seven-year age gap between the two of you or the tone of his voice, you know better than to argue. “Yes,” you wince as he rubs Neosporin onto the open wound. “Besides, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if my dad wasn’t so… overprotective.”

“Well,” he continues, sticking a pink Baby Shark bandaid to your skin before putting the box back, “as a father, I understand.”

“Yul is two, though,” you laugh, “I’m in my twenties.”

“Being in your early twenties hardly makes you an adult,” he mutters. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The need to protect your children always stays the same.”

“Poor Bunny,” you pout jokingly as you click your seatbelt on. “She’s going to be just like me when she’s older. Sneaking out of a window to see a boy because her daddy is a big grizzly bear.”

The comment has his nose twitching in irritation. “I’m done with this conversation, __.”

You freeze. Have you struck a nerve?

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you peep. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop.” His voice is flat, but your heart thumps. “It’s fine.”

All the excitement you feel suddenly morphs into an uncomfortable ache as you slump into your seat. It’s different than it was last weekend, positioned much closer to the dashboard than you would ever put it. There’s a claustrophobic sting in your chest as you realize someone else has been in this very spot.

You know they have, and you know who.

The deafening sound of the bulky silver band on his finger, tapping against the steering wheel as he begins driving to the hotel you frequent, is a sick reminder.

You swear there’s even a musky floral scent lingering in the air. Deeper and more mature than yours. It could be paranoia, or guilt, making you imagine things. Still, you hope your perfume finds its way into every fiber of his leather seats.

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks, interrupting any rational thought or doubt, luring you back into the vicious cycle.

“A bit stressful,” you sigh. “I applied for school today.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, pretty sure I messed up on the financial aid paperwork, though. It was super confusing; I didn’t understand any of it.”

“You should’ve brought it over. I could’ve helped you.”

Jungkook does have a master’s degree in finance. He could’ve been your Rosetta Stone, helping you decipher convoluted questions about taxes and deductions. However, you weren’t sure how he would’ve reacted to you pulling out your laptop post-sex, asking for assistance on something completely unrelated to your normal routine. “That’s not the type of thing we usually do when we’re together,” you shrug, “you know?”

Your response has him shifting in his spot, pierced bottom lip curling inwards like the words made him queasy. He was the one who encouraged you to go back to school in the first place. “I wouldn’t have minded,” Jungkook mumbles before quickly redirecting the dialogue, something he does whenever he’s frustrated or uncomfortable. “So, what’s the special occasion?”

“Huh?”

“What’s got you all dolled up?”

Oh, right. That special occasion. The one you’ve been anticipating since you were made aware of its existence.

“Happy three years sober!” You announce with a cheesy smile, throwing your arms up eagerly.

“Ah,” he huffs in recognition. His eyes are fixed on the road, but there’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. Success. It takes everything in you not to physically rejoice. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“What do you mean?” You ask with a pout. “How could I forget?”

“I don’t know.” Just like that, the flicker of happiness wisps away like a flame in the wind as his expression turns emotionless and stoic again. “It’s not really a big deal.”

You frown. Must he always be so… cold?

‘It’s okay to smile; you deserve it,’ is what you want to tell him. It's not your place, though. You opt for: “It’s a huge deal, Jungkook,” instead. Reaching over, you gently tuck the stray strand of hair behind his decorated ear.

A somber aura hangs around him like a dark, dreary rain cloud, and in moments like this, when it’s so visible, you just… need to touch him.

It’s stupid to think that you’re the special one; that you’ll be the girl to turn the rain into a rainbow and save him from himself, but you can’t refrain from trying.

“Did you celebrate?”

He shakes his head. “Went to work.”

You can tell from his outfit—a sleek black blazer resting neatly on top of an even darker button-up and tie. His long hair is slicked back, but gravity, and his ten-hour long shift took their toll, making the strands hang slack, short undercut peaking through. He looks so incredibly sexy. Maybe, you can comfort him in the only way you know how…

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo: 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you splurged on just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so is being with a man like Jungkook. When you finally get to have him the way you want, you’re incapable of rationality.

One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied…

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips. “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek in your hand and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear.

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in. His strong hand grips your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared, and his jaw is clenched painfully tight. He’s pissed.

You know you should apologize, or be a little shaken up, but the blinking of the turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted.

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple.

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth in. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically—his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug—but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel the entire life he’s built for himself.

Jungkook is an intelligent man, though. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a façade, and everything’s already been undone.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings.

The contact image would typically make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen makes you sick to your stomach.

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling you to shut up, before answering.

“Yes, Seulgi?”

“Your daughter would like to speak to you.”

Her voice makes you want to curl into yourself. Whenever you talk to Seulgi regarding Yul, you’re able to compartmentalize and detach that part of yourself from this one. The one that’s sleeping with her husband. Hearing her in this compromised setting makes you feel absolutely repulsive.

After some rustling and tiny sniffles, Yul answers. “Da-” She only manages a syllable before breaking into a cry-induced coughing fit. You cringe, poor Bunny. “Daddy!”

“What’s wrong with my baby?”

You don’t mean to giggle, especially when the little girl you’ve grown to love so much is clearly distressed, but the intimidating, grumpy, tattooed businessman beside you, talking in full-on pout, tickles your brain just right.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone!” Yul screeches in the most anguished, high-pitched tone.

“Bunny…” With the way his hands scrub down his face, you can tell the tears on the other end are physically affecting him. “Take a deep breath, please.”

There’s a shaky inhale, and a sad whine of an exhale as she tries to steady her respirations.

“Thank you, good job,” he affirms. “Yul, daddy is…” Dark pupils flicker over to you, his face scowled to match. He eyes you like you’re an annoying stain on his leather seat. A dirty little secret that’s keeping him from his daughter. The gesture sends a dagger through your chest. Usually, Jungkook tells his wife he’s working overtime, but he can’t bring himself to lie to his only daughter. “Busy.”

“B-B-But.” The wails have simmered down to a blubber. “Scared.”

“You have mommy, though, don’t you?” He counters exasperatedly, cogs turning at maximum speed to conjure up a solution. “And Ruru?”

Yul is a persistent girl. You’ve seen the two-and-a-half-year-old deadpan Jungkook with a ‘you can have them, then,’ when he tried to convince her that vegetables were delicious and totally not an abomination to tastebuds. “Jeon Ruru is scared, too.”

After a few months of dedication and trust building, Yul finally initiated you into her inner circle of squishmallows, all of which shared the surname, Jeon, followed by whatever random title her baby brain bestowed them. Jeon Ruru, a glass of strawberry milk, was her favorite. You coo in remembrance.

“What about Ado?” Jungkook suggests, exhausting all his options.

“Ado?” She peeps curiously, and you can almost see her doe eyes scanning the room for her runner-up, an avocado squishmallow you gifted her. “Ado’s sleepin’.”

“Can you go get him?”

There’s a long pause of contemplation before the pitter-patter of tiny feet on wood fills the speakers. “Jeon Ado!” She calls out, voice becoming distant as she runs to her bedroom, “daddy wantsa’ talk to you!” You make out a quiet ‘I’ll tuck you in’ when Seulgi helps her to bed. “Okay,” Yul huffs, breathless from her scurry down the long corridor, “he’s here.”

“Jeon Ado.” You rarely see this side of him, and it takes all of your strength to suppress the smile that’s creeping up. “Can you keep Yul safe while I’m away?” He even leans forward a bit, turning his ear towards the speaker as if he’s actually waiting for the stuffed avocado to answer, subconsciously playing along with his daughter despite being miles apart. The scene puts your overwhelmingly sweet perfume to shame. “Uh, Yul, he said yes. So can you sleep in your big girl bed tonight?”

Reluctantly, Yul grumbles in agreement.

“Alright baby, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Again, she answers with a little grunt and a yawn.

“I love you.”

“Love youuu!” She extends the vowel for emphasis.

“I love you more.”

There’s a beat of silence before the sleepy girl simply responds ‘yep,’ not even attempting to argue. He glances at you, this time with a wholesome smile, eyes warm with burning stars. It’s moments like this that keep you hooked, you think. Like always, the feeling is short-lived. When Seulgi mumbles a sweet goodnight to her daughter, their daughter, you’re reminded that you shouldn’t even be observing this domestic interaction.

“You know,” the man begins, turning his attention to his wife, “if you had given her a warm bottle, she would’ve gone down without a hitch.”

“Jungkook, she’s too old for a bottle.” And just like that, the fire between them ignites. You’ve never actually witnessed the pair fighting, only felt the uncomfortable heat between them in passing. “And she’s too old to be co-sleeping. She never had an issue sleeping alone beforehand.”

“Alright,” he asserts, “if Yul’s okay, then we’re done here.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” Despite his warning, she continues. “Getting her used to sleeping with you and then not being here?”

There were many things about having a daughter that Jungkook wasn’t prepared for.

It’s not that he didn’t do his research, and Yul certainly wasn’t an accident. He had wanted her more than anything. Especially after the…

Incident.

A baby-sized hole was left in Jungkook’s chest. Every day, it grew bigger and bigger until, eventually, that bitter emptiness would’ve swallowed him alive.

Jungkook needed Yul.

Still, there were certain things that parenting books and videos hadn’t warned him about, like the worry in his stomach whenever his daughter refuses her lunch, or the ache in his heart when he drops her off at daycare and she watches him leave through the window with a sad wave and tears rolling down her cheeks as if he’s just abandoned her forever. As if he or his wife aren’t going to pick her up in a mere four hours like they do every Tuesday and Thursday. His readings haven’t prepared him for the even stronger ache that consumes his entire body whenever he leaves for work too early and comes home too late, with barely any time to spend with his favorite person in the world.

Before Yul was even born, Jungkook and Seulgi had decided that co-sleeping was out of the question. Their room was for them, and he stood firm on that principle for a while. However, as time passed, their room became Seulgi’s, and the empty bedroom downstairs became his.

Jungkook couldn’t stand that room.

One night, after a particularly grueling shift, Jungkook trudges up the stairs for a late shower. Without finance talk or Yul’s babbles, he’s left to his own thoughts. Usually, under the scalding water, he wondered how his life turned out this way, or more so, why? This time, Jungkook wonders if there is even a reason to keep going at all.

He catches his reflection while brushing his teeth. His eyes are dark, cold, distant. Those same eyes belong to his daughter, but all he sees when looking into hers is love, innocence, and everything good in life.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for him.

Taking a detour to Yul’s room, Jungkook does his best to quietly tip-toe around squishmallows and discarded markers. Underneath the pink blanket is a little ball of fluffy black hair. She’s got her thumb in her mouth—a bad habit he and Seulgi had been trying to nip in the bud—with her chubby cheeks squished against her pillow. There were few things he hated more than waking her up, especially when she was sleeping so peacefully, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t stop himself.

Tiny, confused cries fill the room as Jungkook scoops her up.

“Shh,” he hushes, smoothing his palm over her onesie-clad back. “It’s just me.”

“Da- ddy?” Immediately, she relaxes at the familiar sound of his voice, words slurred as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes with a little fist before peering up at him with big marble eyes.

“How was daycare, Bunny?”

“Scared,” she whimpers, slumping into his chest for comfort. “Scaredy cat.”

“Scaredy cat?” Jungkook repeats, trying to make sense of the phrase. “Who’s a scaredy cat?”

“Jeon Yul.”

Typically, Jungkook finds it adorable when Yul refers to herself in the third person. The way she says it this time makes him frown. “Jeon Yul is not a scaredy cat. Jeon Yul is a baby, that’s all.” Realizing that she’d probably heard the unfavorable title at daycare, his chest tightens. With a heavy sigh, he rests his chin on top of her round head, swaying back and forth. Her hair smells like green apples from her baby soap. “Why were you scared, sweetheart?”

“No color…”

On his lunch break, Seulgi informed him that she was picking Yul up early. In an attempt to encourage her to engage with other children, the teacher took away Yul’s crayons, sending her into a full-blown tantrum. Jungkook knew his daughter well, a spitting image of him in every capacity. The crayons weren’t the problem; it was that crippling shyness that made her afraid of socializing with nearly anyone other than you and her parents.

Her back ripples with tiny hiccups as she recounts the events. Jungkook decides it’s best to change the subject, not wanting to upset his two-year-old anymore—especially this late at night.

“Guess what?”

Yul grunts an inquisitive noise.

“Daddy got you Baby Shark coloring books.”

Her wispy bedhead bounces as she glances side to side, inspecting her room for any sign of new Pinkfong merchandise. Jungkook was genuinely amazed at her ability to keep track of it all, considering how much he and his wife loved to spoil her rotten. However, the word ‘rotten’ doesn’t even come close to describing his baby. “Where?”

“In my car,” he laughs, slicking her choppy bangs out of her eyes. “We’ll color tomorrow., okay?”

“I like Baby Shark,” Yul says, completely ignoring his question. The teeniest, tiniest, most precious yawn slips out, two little front teeth on full display before her lips smack together sleepily. Truly living up to her nickname.

“I know you do.” He’s still rocking her gently, buying some time before she falls back into sleep’s arms and out of his. “I missed you so much today.”

“Why?”

As of late, ‘why’ seems to be Yul’s favorite word.

Why is the sky blue?

Why do vegetables taste yucky?

Why is daddy’s nose so big?

He’d be lying if he said that last, brutally honest question hadn’t caught him off guard when she first uttered it on his hip at the grocery store.

“Because I love you.” It’s the most effortless sentence he’s ever spoken. The most natural feeling he’s ever felt.

“Why?”

“Because,” his eye roll is disconnected from his growing smile, “you’re so cute!” If they weren’t enclosed by the four pink walls of Yul’s bedroom, Jungkook would be embarrassed at the squeakiness of his usual monotone voice. Leaning down, Jungkook blows a raspberry against her doughy cheek, a tried and true method of making her laugh. “Do you want to sleep in my room?”

It’s against his better judgment and the ground rules he had agreed to, but he just… really needs to spend time with her tonight. The small nod against his chest seals the deal. Before he gets to the door, Yul stops him with an exaggerated gasp.

“Daddy, Ruru!”

“Ruru?”

She grunts, frustrated at her father’s confusion, frantically pointing at her partner in crime, the strawberry milk squishmallow lying neatly underneath her comforter. Just how she left it.

“Yul,” Jungkook starts, taking a few steps backward and bending at the waist, allowing her to take the oversized stuffie into her arms. “Isn’t this Mimi?” As far as Jungkook knows, the pink milk carton with a face had always been Mimi; a name Yul had dubbed it since he brought it home a couple months back.

“Ruru,” she states affirmatively.

And ever since then, Yul’s been a co-sleeper.

Jungkook prided himself on knowing his daughter like the back of his tattooed hand. Whether it’s a sixth sense, some innate father’s instinct that the parenting videos mentioned, or his own attention to detail, he could read her like a book. However, sharing a bed with the tiny human taught him something he had been blissfully unaware of:

Yul sleeps wild.

More often than not, Jungkook was awoken by a tiny foot kicking his back, or by his own reflexes as he was somehow pushed to the very corner of the bed by his twenty-pound baby. There were even a few times when a harsh tug on his hair acted as an alarm clock. When he turned around to confront the culprit, however, she was fast asleep, arm slung over one of the many squishmallows that had worked their way into his room.

Having her with him was worth all bald spots and bruises, though. It’s bad, he knows it, and night by night, Yul becomes more attached. Getting her acclimated to daycare had been hell, to say the least. He knows co-sleeping has possibly made her more reluctant to socialize than she already was.

Still, Jungkook can’t help but wonder who’s more dependent on the other. When he thinks about it, undoubtedly, the answer is him. Because as long as he wakes up to a little foot in his back, a fist in his hair, and the smell of green apple baby soap, he has a reason to keep going.

“Don’t you think she deserves better?”

Her sharp words swipe through the air like a blade. Even you feel the cut, cautiously eyeing Jungkook. You can’t read his expression, but something about it makes you rub a comforting hand over his shoulder. He doesn’t react to your touch at all.

There’s a sullen pause before he finally answers. “I think Yul deserves everything.”

“Right… Goodnight, Jungkook.” She hangs up before he has the chance to respond. Seulgi always struck you as a level-headed person, albeit a bit aloof, but never unfair or cruel. You assume she’s just being spiteful, because anyone who knows Jungkook would never question his dedication to his daughter. That ugly, bitter, jealous side of you thinks maybe she just doesn’t know him the way you do.

“Are you okay?” You whisper as if approaching a wounded animal, ready to attack.

“On Fridays,” he starts, eyes shamefully dropping to his fidgeting hands. “Yul spends the day with my parents.”

His incessant need to defend his parenting makes your heart ache. “Hey, I-”

“She’s usually asleep by the time I leave work.”

“Kook,” you interrupt his rambling. “You don’t have to explain; I understand... I think you’re an amazing father.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook looks you directly in the eyes. His are glassy and gentle now, but the fingers that hook into your lace bra, right between the cups, are rough and abrasive. “C’mere,” he gruffs, pulling you over the center console until you’re uncomfortably sandwiched between his solid chest and the steering wheel. There’s no effort to make room for you; he doesn’t slide his seat back. He doesn’t compromise any of his space for you. You accept it, steadying yourself on his shoulders with a grunt.

Sometimes, you question what your presence in his life truly is. Are you an escape or a punching bag? Are you merely something he can sink his nails and teeth into when angry? Something he can break without consequence? The sound of thread ripping and buttons popping fills the car as he slides the silk off your shoulders, letting the delicate material fall to the floor without a care in the world.

“You wore this for me?” A fingertip lightly traces the petite swell of your breasts, barely bulging over the frilly black cups of your push-up. The sensation sets your skin ablaze.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “I wanted today to be special.”

“You care about me?” Moonlight cuts through the dewy window, beaming against the side of his face, highlighting the taut pull in his features. His question seems genuine, but the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Simply being here with him makes the entire foundation of your soul, all of your morals and beliefs, crumble to pieces. Against your better judgment, you’re still here.

Yearning. Trying. Fighting.

You swipe a thumb over his thick brows, trying to ease the angry crinkle that’s become a permanent fixture on his beautiful face. You comb through his hair. It’s a little knotted, a little crunchy from old gel.

The answer should be obvious, but you don’t think Jungkook could internalize love if it was right in front of him.

“I care about you,” you say truthfully, “a lot.”

The stars in his eyes gleam for a moment, glowing bright and vibrant, before they’re engulfed by the suffocating blackness of his pupils.

“You poor thing,” Jungkook tuts, trailing his fingers up your neck before grasping your jaw with a single hand. The baby fat of your cheeks mushes together from the force. “You're gonna let me do whatever I want to you, aren't you?”

The tone of his voice has your heart fluttering and your stomach churning with thick hot desire. Gripping his wrist with both hands, you moan out a ‘yes,’ unconsciously grinding down onto his slack-covered bulge. He’s barely touched you yet and your cunt is leaking, making a mess of your itty bitty thong and his work suit.

“Right, of course.” With the same hand holding you, Jungkook taps his index finger against your glossy pout, “open.” Just barely parting your lips, you let the thick digit slide between them. Immediately, he presses down against your tongue, trying to coax a gag out of you. “What if I want to fuck this pretty little mouth until you cry? How does that sound? Would you like that?”

Inhaling deeply, you nod. That sounds absolutely perfect.

“I don’t know if you can handle it, though,” he lulls, retracting his finger before plunging it back in, all the up to his inked knuckle. You squint in defiance. He’s teasing, but you can’t fight the tinge of anger in your chest. If there’s one thing you can do, it’s suck a mean dick. Looking him directly in the eyes, you swirl your tongue against his palm with ease, not choking once. You feel his cock twitch against the supple flesh of your inner thigh.

Unamused by your antics, Jungkook yanks his hand back angrily, making a string of saliva drip down your chin. Maybe a full face of makeup wasn’t the best idea. “Get in the backseat,” he orders huskily, wiping the damp skin on his blazer. Biting back a smirk, you climb off his lap and wriggle over the center console. You situate yourself on the cool leather, laying down and assuming face-fuck position.

The yellow glow of headlights swims across the ceiling as a passing car drifts down the misty highway. This is the first time in five months that you and Jungkook are out in the open, blissfully oblivious to the possibility of getting caught. It’s childish, but you hope someone sees. For a moment in time—in a wandering eye’s glimpse of reality—you’re his and he's yours.

“Couldn’t wait until we got to the hotel, huh?” Jungkook huffs when he opens the door. Giddily, you lean your head back over the edge of the seat, coming face to face with the tent in his pants. His hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt, desperate to bury himself inside of you. His favorite escape. “Well, since you want to act like a fucking whore-” his pants fall to his knees with a clang when he unbuttons them, “-I’ll treat you like one.”

“Please,” you whimper, noting the wet spot on his gray Calvin Kleins. Reaching up, you lightly drag your nails across it, teasingly pinching the head of his cock before he tugs his boxers down. A big greedy smile spreads across your face as his semi springs out.

The sight makes your lips part. It’s so pretty. Something about how the moonlight catches the glowy pink tip, peeking out from under his foreskin. The light accentuates every ridge and vein on his girthy shaft. So yummy it has you drooling-

Jungkook’s right. You’re a complete and utter whore.

“Is this what you wanted?” He peers down at you over his prominent nose, one hand clutching the roof of his Mercedes. The other wraps around his thick shaft, giving it a few languid pumps, getting himself fully erect for you. Teasingly, he taps the head against your plump lips. Unable to resist, you press a sweet peck and a kitten lick to his silky frenulum. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles, raising his delicious cock just beyond your reach. “You know better than that. Ask for permission.”

“Wanna suck it,” you pout, squirming impatiently. “Please?”

Suddenly, his heavy cock slaps your cheek with a wet thud.

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl.” The praise is contradicted by another light smack to your face, this time with an open palm. Taking the hint, you open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out in anticipation. Jungkook watches you intently with furrowed brows and a slack jaw as he feeds you the first few inches. As soon as the salty flavor of his arousal hits your tastebuds, you moan obnoxiously, back arching off the leather beneath you.

He starts slowly, using your breathing to guide his movements—pausing on the exhales and giving you a bit more on the inhales. He does this until the entirety of his length is shoved down your warm, wet mouth.

The hem of his black dress shirt flows over you, obstructing his view. He places it between his teeth with an annoyed groan, wanting to watch the swell in your neck as you swallow him like a snake. “You take it so well,” he grunts over the material, “the best I’ve ever had.”

Tears clinging to your lashes finally lose grip, trickling down your skin until they get lost in the thick, dark swoops of your dangling hair. For once, you mean something more to him than she does. It’s insignificant and shameful, but at least it's something.

“Are you okay, __?” Jungkook asks, sensing the shift as your soul splays before him like your half-naked body. Stepping back, he gives you some reprieve.

With red eyes and drool bubbling at the corners of your lips, you moan out an implied ‘yes.’ His confession has you on cloud nine.

“Do you remember the sign?”

Again, you hum.

“Can you show me?”

Lazily, you tap his outer thigh three times, a hard ‘stop’ symbol you had agreed upon months ago while hanging off the edge of a hotel bed, preparing for Jungkook to fuck your mouth for the very first time.

“Good girl,” he says before rutting his entire length into you again. He’s so deep that the soft skin of his scrotum nudges against the tip of your nose, and the dense patch of trimmed hair on his pubic bone tickles your chin. Reaching down, Jungkook grips your neck, reveling in the feeling of it stretching against his palm as he moves in and out steadily.

Eventually, he hunches over, hands wandering down and holding your temples for better leverage. Despite the harsh digs of his hips, his delicate fingers brush away a few strands of hair stuck to your damp cheeks. The sweet gesture makes you whimper around him in pure ecstasy, moving your head to meet his thrusts for extra stimulation, circling your flat tongue around the base.

The whistles of the midnight breeze and the murmur of passing cars fade, and all you hear is Jungkook. The melodic, venomous praises pouring out of him poison your mind with optimism. He takes one last plunge, so powerful it sends you sliding back against the seat. To steady yourself, you grip his legs, attempting to ease your triggered gag reflex. He holds you there, cock stuffed to the brim as he slams a hand against the black steel of his car, shirt falling from his teeth as he moans ardently. You gasp when he finally pulls out, leaking tip still connected to you by a bridge of spit and precum.

“Why-” Cough. “Why did you stop?”

Your question is met with only the sound of rustling fabric and the chime of his hanging belt buckle as he removes his suit jacket and throws it into the passenger seat. Grabbing you by the band of your lingerie, Jungkook hauls your frame closer.

He snaps your taut bra strap against your shoulder with a single finger. “Take this off.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter, still trying to catch your breath as you sit up at the waist and unclip your bra. A shiver runs down your spine as the cool night air licks your exposed chest. This time when you lie down, you’re positioned under his spread legs. He stands over you with such authority and dominance. The underside view of his hard cock looks absolutely menacing.

“These,” Jungkook’s large palms grab at your tits, jiggling them, “I wanna fuck ‘em.”

“There isn’t anything for you to fuck,” you giggle.

After years of insecurity, and crying over vengeful comments from dumb boys you had broken things off with, you finally came to terms with your appearance. Your tits are small, and that’s okay. Plus, the cute little nipple piercings you had gotten a while back were definitely a confidence booster. There wasn’t an ounce of self-hatred in your comment.

Jungkook doesn’t take it that way, though.

“Shut up.” With a huff, he steps back and hunches, reaching down to deliver a harsh swat to your cheek. It was a little rougher than usual, and you wince upon impact. Instantly, he soothes the skin with a gentle pet. “Your tits are… perfect.”

Perfect? Your cheeks and aching pussy heat up at the compliment.

Squeezing your chest, Jungkook brushes his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He pays extra attention to the silver barbells, decorated with little sparkly peaches at the ends. “These are new,” he notes, tugging on the jewelry. You let out a breathy moan, legs clenching together, inner thighs embarrassingly wet. “Sheesh,” he laughs, “someone’s sensitive.”

“Yeah… keep going.”

“I like them. They’re cute on you.”

Throughout your acquaintances, Jungkook was rarely this vocal. Maybe some praise sprinkled in here and there, but seldom anything substantial. Tonight, however, he’s been dishing out sweet talk like candy. You can’t pinpoint precisely what, but something’s changed.

Whatever it is, it fills you with awful, wishful hope.

Jungkook shuffles closer, teasing the teat of your pierced bud with his sticky tip. The dreamy sensation has your eyes rolling back into your skull. A glob of spit drops between the valley of your breasts before he spreads the wetness over your skin with his shaft. He has to use a death grip to force your tits into a soft plushness, perfect for him to slot himself into. Again, you feel that fucking ring embedding itself into your skin like a nasty tick.

Cautiously, he guides his pulsing cock between your constrained breasts. A beautiful symphony of groans lulls out as he throws his head back in pleasure, long locks dancing along his clammy neck.

“You like that?” You hum, taunting him. “Tell me how it feels.”

It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, eyes trained on your tits pillowing around him, focusing on the dewy sheen of your nipples and chest as his oozing cock spills onto your skin. “It feels-” his hips stutter, “-so fucking good.”

The way his teeth snarl around the hushed curse makes you smile, eyes closing as you relish in his pleasure. Maybe you’re too horny, or perhaps the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is making you crazy, but you wish you could live in this moment forever. Wallowing in the darkness, frozen in time with him. Yeah, you think, that would be wonderful.

“You can touch yourself,” he comments, spotting your clenched legs, desperate for some pressure.

“S’okay,” you mumble, reaching around to caress his balls. His thighs tremble a bit against your arms. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Can you-” he grunts, stomach clenching as he begins to feel that familiar pooling in the base of his thick shaft. “Hold them for me. I’ll take care of you after, just- let me cum.”

Obliging, you replace his hands with your own, squishing your tits together for him. The visual of you lying under him, complacent and willing, sends him spiraling. A guttural roar echoes throughout the empty road as he speeds up. “Tighter,” he orders; you listen. The saliva and precum are beginning to rub off, making the friction of his chaotic thrusts sting your skin. He notices, letting another string of spit fall from his mouth onto your flesh. “Be good and take it. I’m almost there.”

By now, Jungkook should know you’d endure any pain to be with him.

The darkest parts of your brain tell you he’s well aware of that fact.

After a few more humps and lulled words of encouragement, he’s bursting at the seams. Just before he blows, Jungkook steps back, tight fist jerking himself frantically as he spills his seed onto your chest. Your eyes dart from his angry cock to his fucked out expressions. The moonlight shines behind him like a glowing aura as he finishes with a scrunched nose and his tongue between his teeth. He looks angelic. You moan under him, flinching when a stray spurt lands on your chin.

Fucked out and dazed, he laughs softly, running a hand through his hair as his chest heaves. Collecting the liquid with his finger, he brings it to your giggling lips. The taste makes you hum as you lazily begin rubbing his cum all over your tits.

“Really?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “You’re already starting?”

“Starting what?” You pout, batting your lashes at him and circling your nipple lightly with the tip of your nail, trying your best to look oblivious and innocent. Well, as innocent as you possibly can while literally covered in sperm.

“Don’t play dumb. You know what you’re doing.”

See, in many ways, Jungkook is different from any other guy you’ve been with prior. For one, you didn’t meet via horny messages on Tinder at 1 a.m. For two, he’s older, meaning he’s much more intelligent and much more experienced. After years and years of honing in on his craft, he just knows how to fuck. Jungkook is one of the rare few penis-havers in the world who can orgasm back to back; no refractory period necessary. Truly a hidden gem.

To put it simply, the man is a fucking faucet—one that you can turn off and on whenever you want.

As if on cue, Jungkook twirls his inked finger, indicating for you to turn around. The other hand squeezes his cock just below the crown to cut off circulation, keeping himself erect. With that, your white converses are planted flat onto the sparse grass as you bend over the back seat, leaning your weight on your elbows.

It's like whiplash when Jungkook's aggressive persona drops, and he's running his hands all over your body. Up your thighs, over your back, down your arms. He blooms petal-soft kisses on your bare shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Can I go in like this? Or do you need some foreplay?”

“This is fine,” you murmur, jarred by his sudden tenderness. “Perfect, actually.”

With a hushed ‘alright,’ Jungkook reaches over you to rummage through the pocket of his discarded blazer. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as he pulls out a square foil packet. Condoms were an unwavering constant in your weekend escapades. Jungkook always wears condoms. Normally, that would be a great thing; however, in this situation, it’s like a stab to the heart…

Because if he’s adamant about using protection with you, then that means he’s still sleeping with her, doesn’t it? And it’s not like you can even ask or scold him about it. She’s his wife, after all. You’re the outsider.

Jungkook hooks his thumb into your panties and pulls them aside. Your glistening folds are on full display, waiting to get pounded mercilessly right on the side of the road. He shoves three digits into your mouth, letting your drool on them a bit before pressing them to your wet cunt. Opening your folds with his index and ring fingers, he lightly dips the middle inside you. He collects some arousal and spreads it to your clit in feathery flicking motions. You cry out, feeling the shocks of a blossoming orgasm.

“Already dripping, I see.” You can practically hear his cocky, satisfied grin as he stands straight and rolls the condom down his length. “Always so sensitive.”

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, “I always get like this with you.”

“I know you do.” Pulling a cheek to the side, Jungkook cards his sheathed tip through your entrance, making sure to nudge under your clitoral hood with every swipe. Lewd wet sounds ring in your ears as he tortures your hole relentlessly.

“Kook,” you huff, reaching back to dig your manicured, almond-shaped nails into his skin. “Just put it in!”

Suddenly, Jungkook slams your torso onto the leather. In one swift motion, he’s catching your wrists, pinning them both to your lower back with a single hand.

“I’ll give you what you want just-” releasing the back of your neck, he spanks you so hard you recoil, “be patient.”

Despite his words, you wait no longer than a minute before he’s guiding his dreamy member right where you want it. Jungkook always gives in quickly. How could he not when you’re ass up, face down, and practically begging? As he sinks into you, and you feel that familiar burn from the initial stretch, your eyes roll back, mouth opening around a silent scream.

Usually, Jungkook likes to overwhelm you with his entire length all at once. There’s some hesitation this time as he slides in only halfway before stopping. Too much hesitation for your liking. You’re confident he’s testing you. Your assumption is verified when he speaks in that annoying, condescending voice.

“If you want it so bad, come get it.”

“You’re so,” breaking free from his grasp, you press your palms into the seat and lift yourself up with a grumble, “infuriating.”

He hums halfheartedly, head dropping to watch you work yourself onto him. Only a single stroke in, and he can already see you coating him in a shiny, milky dew. “So fucking wet…”

“Can’t help it,” you peep, taking him to the hilt and circling your hips, trying to savor the feeling. You’re no stranger to his cock; how good it makes you feel. You spend every Friday night bathing in that pleasure, forgoing parties and hangouts with your best friends for a romp in the five-star hotel sheets with Jungkook. Still, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to commit his touch to memory. Perhaps, despite your denial, you recognize that this is temporary. Deep down, you know that someday, all you’ll have left of him is a tragic echo. “I love the way you make me feel.”

“Me too,” he gasps, guiding your movements as his fingers dig into your hips. Clearly interpreting your admission differently than you had meant it. “Your pussy’s like heaven.”

High on praise and drunk on the sounds you’re coaxing out of him, you whine, dragging your cunt up every inch of his throbbing length before slamming back. Hopefully, the dense forest behind you is enough to insulate the pornographic wails ripping through you. Even if someone somewhere hears, you can’t bring yourself to give a damn. Not when heady pleasure and adrenaline course through your veins like blood.

Just when you’re about to collapse, arms giving out underneath you, Jungkook grabs you by the neck and holds you flush against his toned chest. “Don’t you run,” he chuckles. The low baritone rumble goes straight to your clit. His warm breath gusts over your skin, contrasting the chilly night air. “Don’t give up on me.”

He’s pounding into you now, choking you tighter than he ever has, but he pecks you so delicately. Lips barely ghosting over the shell of your ear. So gentle and tender. As tears stream down your cheeks for the second time tonight, you can’t help but feel there’s a hidden meaning behind his words.

“What’s wrong?” He smirks, tilting your face, wanting you to look him in the eye as you fall apart. The visual nearly makes you combust. His stringy hair is sticking to his cheeks, flushed from exertion. Even the tattoos littering the expanse of his neck are splotched pink and red. Twisting in his hold, you grab a fistful of his damp waves, fingers tickling his short undercut. “What do you want, baby?”

“Cum…”

“You wanna cum?”

“Please, please, please.” Weak whimpers punch out of you in tandem with his brutal thrusts.

“What do you say?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl,” he rewards you with a smack to your sensitive clit, “you can cum. I’ve got you.”

And with his permission, you’re cumming. Your legs shake violently as you’re overcome with blinding, electric gratification. If it wasn’t for Jungkook’s strong arms supporting you, you would’ve toppled face-first into the seat. He fucks you through the height of your orgasm; hips never ceasing, even when everything becomes so intense and sensitive that your body instinctively tries to push him away. He watches your face intently, reading your expressions to ensure he’s milked every last drop of your orgasm before he lets you fall onto the leather.

Even in your hazy state, you catch the breathy string of curses, a telltale sign of his own impending orgasm. “Fuck!” He groans, removing the condom to paint your ass and lower back in hot, white ropes.

It’s funny, really.

He refuses to cum with you or inside you, something so intimate and special, but he has no qualms cumming on you. It’s almost like he’s marking you, burning himself into your flesh. Consuming a piece of you every time your bodies come together as one.

And all the while, his mind is somewhere else as his body swallows you alive.

“Look at you,” Jungkook laughs, smoothing a palm up and down your spine, rubbing his semen into your skin the same way you had earlier. “I’ve made a mess out of you.”

That’s true in more ways than one…

Lost in post-nut clarity, your brain barely registers Jungkook maneuvering you both into the car. Closing the door behind him, he moves you onto his lap, your back pressed against his sweaty button-up. Peering down, you see his slacks and boxers still around his ankles, black dress shoes poking out underneath. You’re in only a thong and sneakers, and your makeup is definitely melted. The two of you must look like the biggest sluts ever.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook mutters, noticing your delirious giggles.

“Oh, nothing,” you hum, leaning into him. Habitually, he wraps both of his inked arms around your middle. You despise how incredibly natural and serendipitous it feels, almost like you’re meant to be in them.

God __, get your head out of the clouds and return to Earth.

Life isn’t a romance novel, and you’re not a child anymore. You shouldn’t see the world as quartz-colored and magical. The man is seven years older than you. He has a wife and child. Logistically, it could never, ever work…

But if soulmates exist as they do in the books, you wish on every falling star that Jungkook is yours.

“What are you thinking about?” You coo softly, turning your head to stare into the abyss of his infinite eyes.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he can’t resist lowering his sinful hand to your most private area, cupping your sex unabashedly. “I want more.”

“You always want more.”

“So do you,” he laughs, pointing out the way you grind into his touch. Nuzzling into your shoulder, he nips your skin and then soothes his tongue over it like an insincere apology. “Just one more time, okay?”

You nod, head leaning back on his shoulder as you succumb to his skilled fingers, rubbing your clit in tight circles. Jungkook pauses in contemplation before popping his glistening fingers into his mouth. When the taste hits his tongue, his face contorts. He even moans dreamily like you’re the most delicious dessert he’s experienced. The scene has your own brows furrowing, lips parting at just how hot and bothered he’s got you.

Sensually, he trails the wet pads down, ghosting over a nipple, teasing you on their treacherous journey to your waiting core. He slides them in your wet cunt seamlessly, curling right into your g-spot. They move in a dip and wave that drives you wild, a wet suction noise sounding in the enclosed space. Turned on by your purrs and mewls, Jungkook subtly ruts against you, his plumping cock sliding between your cheeks.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?” He tuts patronizingly. “Gonna cum around my fingers, sweetheart?”

“No…”

“No?”

“Wanna cum with you…”

He stops, realizing what you’re alluding to, before pulling his fingers out and tapping your clit gently. “There’s another condom in my pocket. Can you hand it to me?”

“We don’t need it.”

“Yes, we do. Don’t be foolish.”

“... I’m on the pill,” you suggest hesitantly. Once again, you’re nothing but stupid and irresponsible when it comes to Jungkook. You just want to be with him, that’s all.

“__,” he starts, voice shadowed with sternness, “give me the condom.”

Realizing he won’t budge, you do as he asks and fish it from his blazer, watching idly as he goes through all the steps—stroking himself to full mass, rolling on a barrier, and then positioning you between his spread legs as he guides you down onto his length with a hand on your hip.

Cyclical.

Like clockwork, your jaw drops, eyes screwing shut as you let him invade your space and infiltrate your mind. You don’t believe the two of you have ever tried this position before, but it feels so fucking good. His cock is so deep you can feel it in your fucking stomach. It’s obvious from his groaning and the aggressive spank he gives you that the unexplored angle is affecting him too.

Outside, light rain begins chiming against the steel roof of his car as you take the first shallow rise of your hips.

Scratch everything you’ve said about this not being a romance novel.

Distracted by the calming sound, you thoroughly miscalculate how much space you have in his sleek Mercedes Benz and bonk your head on the ceiling.

“Ow,” you wince with an embarrassed giggle.

Hissing at the impact, Jungkook clutches your head, massaging the area gently. “Are you okay?” His voice is muffled, and you can tell he’s trying his best not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” You shout playfully, slapping his knee.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” Chuckling, he moves your hair and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. “You’re cute, that's all.”

Cute? You swoon.

“Alright baby, keep going. Don’t stop,” Jungkook orders, the heel of his calloused palms pushing at your ass, encouraging you to bounce on his needy cock. A fucked-out sigh escapes him, head falling back for a split second before it jerks back up again, not wanting to miss the view of your perky cheeks rippling as they collide with his solid pelvis. “This position is so sexy.” Overwhelmed, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. He chokes you for a moment, plays with your tits, swats them, grabs your hips, and then finally settles on your clit, flicking it like a light switch.

“Jungkook!” You wail, knees knocking together as you brace yourself. Men you’ve dated in the past struggled to get you off. Sure, they made you feel good, but they couldn’t quite bring you to the edge. It only ever took Jungkook a matter of minutes to have you whimpering and shaking, begging for release. “I can’t take so much! I can’t!”

Ignoring your pleas, Jungkook pilots your right arm around his shoulder, sending you flush against his frame once more. Dipping his head, he sucks the closest nipple into his mouth. Caught off guard, you’re so overstimulated that your hips come to a grinding halt.

“Move,” he commands with his lips sealed around your piercing, sending dizzying vibrations to your sensitive bud.

“I can’t,” you whimper, back arching off his chest as you try to calm all five tingling senses.

“Yes, you can.”

“No…”

Jeon Jungkook was never one to take no for an answer.

Scooting further down the seat, his large hands clasp behind your knees. He lifts your legs until the heels of your white sneakers are on either side of the driver’s headrest. In this new position, he’s able to pound up into you freely, relentlessly beating into clenching walls. Hitting every single delicious spot inside of you. “Jungkook, please!”

“Please, what?” Honestly, you have no clue what you’re begging for. All you know is that his mushroom tip rigorously stimulating your g-spot is going to have you gushing at any moment. His guttural, sensual groaning does nothing to slow your approaching orgasm. “You want more?”

As if you weren’t already gasping for air, Jungkook raises your legs to your head, knees locked onto his inner elbows. His fingers intertwine behind your neck, thumbs pressing into the base of your throat as he folds you in half.

A full fucking nelson.

“Watch me fuck it.” With a stern grip, he forces your gaze to his thick shaft, sliding in and out of your sopping cunt. Your vision is watery, but you can clearly see just how turned on you are, creamy juices coating his entire shaft. “Open it, baby. Watch what I do to you.”

Reaching both hands under your thighs, you spread your lips, getting a better look at him completely destroying you.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” Jungkook grunts, speech slurred as his arousal lulls him into a delirious, catatonic state. “Tell me what you see, baby.”

“So pretty, Kook.” You’re simply playing into his dirty talk, but the sight of your bodies connecting, becoming one, is profoundly gorgeous. “So wet…”

“Yeah? Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

That sends him into a frenzy, thrusts becoming so punctuated and violent that his cock accidentally slips out.

“Put it back in, put it back in!” You chant, frantically shoving his length into you. The yelp you chortle out is accompanied by the sound of your hand smacking against the foggy car window as your climax engulfs you. “I love it!”

“I love yo-”

He quickly cuts himself off, but everything stops when the sentence fragment hits the air.

Is your brain playing sick, twisted jokes on you… or was he really just about to say he loved you?

Before you can even process what’s happening, your biological responses take over, sending through the most earth-shattering, world-bending, mind-boggling orgasm you’ve ever had. Everything goes blank. Your eyes cloud with splotches and stars. Your ears ring with static and white noise, blurring the sound of Jungkook cumming underneath you, and the pouring rain outside, splashing against concrete.

This time, he doesn’t pull out, just works through both of your orgasms with gentle ruts and vulnerable whimpers.

After you’ve both calmed down and your heaves have diminished to a slow, even pattern, he pulls out, crumpling the used condom into a loose napkin he found in the center console. Still on his lap and in his arms, you watch intently as Jungkook leans his head back, eyes closing as he inhales deeply. To you, he looks almost… peaceful.

The moon trickles in through the thin streams on the window, reflecting on his face like stained glass—something that was once so clear and pure now jaded with somber shades of blue. Sad, but still beautiful, you think.

Delicately, you trace a finger over the black ink decorating his skin. You sit silently for a while, basking in the comfortable aura, simply enjoying one another’s company, before you finally speak.

“Why this?” You peep, pointing to the dainty letters at the base of his neck.

“It’s my daughter’s name.” He counters playfully, the faintest hint of a smile on his pierced lips.

“Well, duh, I know that,” you roll your eyes with a giggle, “but why here?”

“Yul is like air to me.”

Humming in contemplation, you continue your journey over the endless swirls and loops. During sex, the first three buttons of his shirt popped open, exposing the canvas of his chest. You feel a thick, dark cloud loom over you when you reach a certain tattoo, the one that’s plagued your mind ever since you first saw it.

Another name is engraved right above his heart in the same delicate font as Yul’s:

Seol.

“Yul, please. Enough.” If Jungkook had a dollar for every time he's said that in the last twenty-two minutes, he’d be nearly as rich as his boss, sitting directly in front of him on a very important Zoom call. “Daddy is working.”

Jumping at the sudden inflection of his voice, the little girl on his lap pulls her tiny hand away. For the most part, Yul was well-behaved. However, working from home proved to be an obstacle that he and his clingy toddler have yet to overcome.

She’s interrupted his meeting three times already. First, cutting off his proposal with the Baby Shark theme song, blaring from her Pinkfong tablet that he’d forgotten to mute. Second, peeking above his desk with her space buns and doe eyes to show his colleagues the latest addition to her squishmallow collection. The last straw was when she squeezed his nose.

With watery eyes and warbled lips, Yul blinks at Jungkook, heartbroken and confused as to why he didn’t make that funny noise she loves so much. Quickly, her gaze averts to her chunky legs, swinging aimlessly as she attempts to hold back the tears.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Jungkook sighs, tacking on an apology before turning his screen off. “Bunny,” he lifts her chin with his index finger, another palm flat on her protruding tummy, “please, don’t cry. You’re not in trouble. Daddy just-”

The ring of a doorbell interrupts him.

“__?” Jungkook questions, baby at his hip as he stands in the doorway before you. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp. You weren’t expecting to see him.

Usually, you spoke to Seulgi. You’ve only ever seen Jungkook in passing, sparing quick greetings before he’s out the door. It worked in your favor, really, because for whatever reason, you felt extremely awkward around him.

Almost like that gross nervousness you get when you’re around someone you find so incredibly attractive it makes you uncomfortable…

Maybe it’s because he’s covered in tattoos and piercings. Maybe it’s because he’s a dad. Your group of fellow horny twenty-something-year-old friends have told you mythical stories and fantasies about older men. Freshly turned thirty-year-old men. Men like Jungkook. Dilfs. Something about that potent dad nut… Like, you know it works.

It’s inappropriate; you know it is. You’ve always tried your best to ignore the feral thoughts.

Today seems to be putting your mental strength to the test because Jungkook is dressed in baggy gray sweats, long dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. A few loose strands dangle devilishly in front of his eyes, taunting you.

“I-It’s 10… I’m supposed to be babysitting.”

“I’m working from home today. My wife didn’t tell you?”

With wide eyes and hot cheeks, you shake your head. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” you stutter, stepping back and preparing to make a mad dash to your hand-me-down Honda Civic. “I’ll just… be on my way then.”

“Actually.” An icy grip on your wrist stops you. “I could use some help. This one-” he nods his head towards Yul, stuck to him like velcro, “-is being a bit needy today.”

One look at her turns your flustered gape into a smile. The past month with her has been more difficult than you’d imagined. Yul was incredibly sweet and intuitive, but unbearably shy. Building a relationship with the girl was challenging, but you were determined to overcome it. “No way,” you frown animatedly, tickling her leg with the tip of your finger, “Yul would never.”

A giggle or two had been the goal. Instead, she buries her face into her father’s shoulder.

“Don’t take it personally,” Jungkook orders, noticing the defeated slump in your shoulders. “She’s always like this with new people.”

Seulgi had warned you that Yul would take a while to come around. Hopefully, it’ll happen organically. But for now, a little gift or two wouldn’t hurt your efforts, you supposed last night while running errands. Reaching into your purse, you pull out a bottle of non-toxic, baby-friendly nail polish. “Yul, look what I have!”

“Wow,” Jungkook plays along, gently nudging her head out of his neck. “Bunny, look!”

He calls her Bunny?

You’re in for it now.

Plump fingers wrap around the plastic, taking it out of your own with an awe-stricken stare. She holds it up right in front of Jungkook’s nose. “Pink.”

“Mhm, that’s right,” he confirms, pecking her temple. “Now, Daddy has to get back to work. Can you stay with __ for a bit?”

She looks at him, then at you, then at him again, then back at you, and finally, landing on the nail polish, giving her father a reluctant nod. You knew it would come in handy. Despite her agreeance, Yul still stretches the neck of his shirt with her tiny fists as she’s transferred into your arms.

Somehow, you managed to survive that painfully awkward encounter…

Only to be thrown into another one immediately after.

See, you’ve always known Yul was a daddy’s girl. On good days, the toddler would grab you by the hand and guide you around the house, giving you a tour of everything that belonged to her father. His shoes at the door. His coat on the hook. Even taking you into the bathroom to show you his shampoo bottle. But that fact was never more apparent than now, as Yul stands in the middle of the living room on the verge of tears.

“Daddy?”

“He’s working, sweetheart. Remember?” You coo on your knees in front of her. You’re quick to redirect her. “I like your shoes.”

The sniffles stop as she glances down at her white sneakers. “Mine…” she takes a hesitant step back, mistaking your compliment as an attempt to swindle her out of them.

“That’s right,” you laugh, “they’re so pretty, just like you.”

She blinks at you for a moment, and then begins stomping her little foot: heel first. When she’s finally able to kick off her left shoe, she bends all the way over, pressing her palms flat against the hardwood floor. It’s the most uncoordinated way you’ve ever seen anyone pick something up.

Without warning, Yul throws the shoe across the room. Well, that had been her intention, you assume. She had cocked her arm back too far and released too early, making it land behind her.

Oh no, she hates you.

With an excited grunt and a bounce, Yul points to the sneaker—its clear sole sparkling pink and purple.

“Oh,” you sigh in relief. “They light up?”

“Yesh.” Plopping right onto her butt, she takes the other one off, repeating the process. “Like this!” Her arms stretch out and she clenches her two little front teeth, executing the most stellar charade of a light you’ve ever seen.

It’s a small breakthrough, but you’ll take it.

Then you paint her nails, just like you said you would. She’s as patient as a toddler could be, but her tiny toe keeps curling under the tickle of the brush, making pink polish bleed outside of the lines.

“My goodness,” you groan, admiring the messy, albeit adorable, result. “You’re so cute! Wait until your dad sees you.”

Yul shrieks wildly, smacking both hands over her mouth as she hobbles to her feet. You watch with confused giggles as the milk-drunk baby stumbles down the corridor. You figure out where she's going too late.

Yul stands on her tippy toes, jumping to click open the door to Jungkook’s office with a loud creak.

“Yul!” You whisper-shout. “Don’t-”

“Daddy!” She calls, stepping a single foot into the room, showing off the fresh paint job. “So cute!”

Literally, your only job today was to keep Yul preoccupied while Jungkook worked, and you failed. Your breath catches in your throat, awaiting his response.

“So pretty,” he gasps, “now go play, baby. I’m almost done.”

A relieved exhale flies past your lips.

Something you’ve picked up on from years of babysitting is that little girls aren’t allowed to compliment themselves. They’re always told it’s rude or conceited. Jungkook does neither, and you find that so refreshing.

“Close the door, please,” he orders before she runs away, “gently.” Yul does her very best to shut the door quietly and then sprints back to you.

The next few hours go smoothly. You discovered that the green-hating toddler has an affinity for avocados after giving her a bite of your toast. “Mmm!” She had hummed, looking at you with wide eyes. With a full belly and squishmallow in hand, Yul went out like a light for her afternoon nap, giving you time to catch up on some reading.

“How was she?” You didn’t even hear him come out of his office, so the deep voice makes you jump, eyes tracking the sound. He’s leaning against a kitchen counter, one tattooed hand stuffed in his pocket and the other wrapped around a water bottle. It’s a thick one too, and his fingers still touch.

“Better,” you cough, “she’s sleeping now.”

He hums halfheartedly, dark irises boring into you as he takes a sip. Without Yul to soften the edges, Jungkook is… intimidating, to say the least. “What are you reading?”

“The Catcher in the Rye…” you peep, quickly closing it. “I know, it’s kinda lame.”

“No, not lame at all. Anyone who thinks that is lying to themselves… or is just being a contrarian.” He leans his elbows against the dark granite island, fingers crossing as he stares at you. You’re sitting idle across the room, but his presence looms over you. He has this way of making you feel like he’s in your head, listening to everything you’re thinking.

You pray he’s not. If he is, you'll definitely be fired.

“I can’t tell which one you are yet.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but the ‘yet’ makes you come clean, shifting in your spot on the leather couch. “... Both.”

“Right,” he smirks, tongue fiddling with his lip ring, almost like he’s taunting you. “That’s one of my favorite books, actually. I relate to it in many ways.”

Your fingers dance across the red cover, concealing hundreds of pages of isolation, emptiness, and the heavy dread of passing time. What an awful thing to relate to. Sometimes, when you get too engrossed in the text, glimmers of yourself bleed within the lines too.

“You’re an English major, right?”

“Oh, um, I’m not in school at the moment… I just read for fun.”

“Well, you have an Associate’s degree.” Him knowing that information about you makes you think he asked the previous question with the intention of baiting you into this conversation. “Why not get your Bachelor’s?”

“I don’t know. It’s… complicated.”

Why is he interrogating you? What does he want? For you to confess that the fear of becoming a full-fledged adult makes you not want to go back to college?

“Life is complicated. You’d be ridiculous to not go back.” The audacity should make you mad, but he speaks with so much authority that you’re dumbfounded. His head tilts, eyes squinting as they shift to the ceiling, debating something. His tongue clicks when he finally makes his decision. “Follow me; I have something I want to show you.”

With the curl of two thick fingers, Jungkook calls you to follow him down the hallway. You blink for a moment, gushing at the suggestive motion of his hand. Shaking your head at the evil, intrusive thought, you rise to your feet.

Just like a child, you have to skip to catch up to his long strides. Your gaze trails along white walls; there are pictures of him and Yul, Yul and Seulgi, but not a single one of them all together.

Now that you think about it, any affection you’ve ever seen in the household was reserved for Yul and Yul only. Seems like trouble in paradise…

You shouldn’t speculate.

The heavy wooden door creaks as Jungkook holds it open for you. You’re not sure what you expected his room to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. The rest of the house is pretty modern, consisting of sleek blacks, whites, and woods. Countertops designed with icy swirled marble. Everything has this cold, impersonal vibe, but this room is the total opposite. The walls are baby blue, decorated top to bottom with dreamy clouds. You spot a chubby yellow star peeking out from underneath one of them, adorned with a hand-painted smiley face. On his nightstand, there’s a pastel purple foldable record player. Standing behind it is a single vinyl: Beautiful Boy by John Lennon.

“Since you like to read,” Jungkook coughs, turning your attention to a sleek bookcase, stuffed to the brim with hundreds of titles you’ve never even heard of. “I figured you’d appreciate my collection.”

“Yeah, it’s…” The words trail off as you step forward. On a whim, your finger extends, tracing the delicate spine of a well-loved book. A low chuckle brings you back to reality; you peep, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you yank your hand away. “It’s… really cool.”

“You can borrow something if you’d like. Does anything catch your eye?” Plopping down onto the computer chair, Jungkook rummages through his desk drawer and pulls out a tiny black case. You didn’t even know he wore glasses, and when he nudges them comfily onto the bridge of his nose, you nearly melt. As if he could get any more attractive.

“N-No,” you stutter as he wheels closer. Even though you’re towering over him, you still feel so small in his presence. You pray to God he can’t sense how incredibly nervous he makes you. “Not really.”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, you know,” he hums, low and sly. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No!” You peep in shock. Is the man a fucking mindreader?

“Right.” Jungkook peers over the rim of his lenses, dark eyes glimmering in the whimsical glow of the room. “So __, what do you want to be?”

“A teacher,” you say, playing with your fingers.

“My wife wanted to be a teacher, too.” He shoots you the softest, gentlest smile. “She ended up doing business instead.”

“Why?” You ask, gnawing on your bottom lip. You don’t mean to pry, but this is the first time you’ve ever actually talked to him in a meaningful way. Something about him intrigues you, like a puzzle you’re determined to find all the pieces to.

“Ah, well,” he sighs, inked fingers scratching at the back of his neck. “We figured it’d be best for our family if we both pursued more lucrative career paths. I switched my major from English to finance.” You light up at the confession, the similarity putting you at ease. “I’m sorry if I was abrasive earlier,” he frowns, “I settled down young and had to sacrifice a lot, so I encourage you to go for something that fulfills you.” With his elbows on his knees, he leans closer to you. “I think you’d be a fantastic teacher. You take care of my daughter well.”

“Thank you,” you peep, cheeks heating up at the compliment. “I mean… you didn’t have Yul that young.” He tried to comfort you, so it’s only fair you do the same, right? “I think your late twenties are a great time to have children.”

Almost immediately, his face drops, eyes glazing over with something so raw. So… longing. You’ve never seen anything like it before. The corners of his nose twitch before he composes himself. “Yeah, I suppose they are.” His pink tongue toys with his lip ring, swiftly changing the subject. “You seem surprised.”

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting all this.”

“Expecting what?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh clumsily, “books.” You mentally curse yourself as soon as the answer comes out. Really, __? Books?

“What?” He starts, raising a brow at you. “You thought I couldn’t read?”

Thankfully, Jungkook takes your comment playfully.

“Maybe,” you respond in the same lighthearted manner, feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence, “I also didn’t expect your room to look like a little boy’s room.”

All of the cheerfulness in the air evaporates as Jungkook glares at you with a clenched jaw and flared nostrils. Cleary irate. You’ve triggered a landmine.

“Jungkook, I’m-”

“Stop talking.” He raises a hand, cutting you off before you finish the sentence. Turning his back to you, he wheels over to his desk. “You can leave. You’re done for the day.”

Looking back, you know why he was so upset that day. You had put the puzzle pieces together a while ago. You’re unsure of the details, and asking for them feels wrong. Silence feels wrong, too, though. Until now, you’ve never dared to speak up.

You have no idea how to navigate something of this magnitude, but you just want him to know that you’re here. That you’re trying.

Cautiously, with your hand still on the tattoo, you whisper: “He must’ve been so beautiful, Jungkook…”

The thumb that had been drawing soft shapes into your side comes to an eerie pause as he freezes under you. When you look at him, your heart shatters. His chin is caved in with little dents, eyes glazed over with so much emotion. You’ve never seen a human being look so broken.

“Get off me.”

You frown at the shift in his demeanor. “Why?”

Remaining tight-lipped, Jungkook physically removes you from his lap, dumping you onto the seat next to him.

“Why can’t we ever talk about anything serious?”

He remains quiet as he slides his underwear up, not sparing you a single glance. When he speaks, his tone is painfully detached. “Like what?”

“Like what you said,” you answer curtly.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Shaking his head with a cynical chuckle, he begins buttoning his pants, pretending you don’t exist. Like you’re not right beside him, falling to pieces.

Your eyes dart to the ceiling, lashes fluttering rapidly as you mull over what to say next. You guess now would be an appropriate time to ask him what you’ve wanted for weeks. Blinking does nothing to combat your unshed tears when you realize that his answer has the potential to destroy everything you’ve been dreaming about. Everything you’ve hoped for. “When are you going to leave her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous, Jungkook!” Shaking your head furiously, you feel the first hints of anger in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “I’m not! I see the way you look at me!”

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen? Huh?” Finally, he’s paying attention to you, just not in the way you hoped. His face is beet red as he leans closer. “Don’t tell me you actually thought we were going to end up together, __. Seriously? You’re my babysitter! You’re seven years younger than me! This isn’t some fucking fairytale; it’s life! There’s no such thing as happily-ever-afters—grow up and stop acting like a damn child!”

“No, Jungkook,” you croak, fully sobbing as you push an angry finger into his chest. “You’re the one who’s acting childish! I may not be the most mature person, but at least I know how to accept love!”

“So let’s say I divorce my wife, then what? Huh?” He seethes. “I get partial custody? I only see Yul on weekends? Every other week? She grows up in a broken home? I refuse to ruin my daughter’s life like that.”

You take a shaky breath, eyes shifting to the car floor, the air fresher on his mirror, the window. Anywhere but him. The way Jungkook explains your make-believe future together is nothing how you envisioned it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s just a fucking asshole. Neither thought process eases the pain.

“But you’re okay with ruining mine?”

For a moment, his features soften, and you see a glimmer of guilt wash over him. It fizzles out just as fast as it came. “You’re being dramatic.” Jungkook steps outside, tucking his shirt into his pants. “Get dressed.”

With jittery hands and blurry eyes, you grab your discarded lace bra, the one you had bought just for tonight, and slide it on your shoulders. When you pick your shirt up, you see that it’s ripped and tattered. Completely destroyed.

“Here,” Jungkook mumbles, tossing you his blazer as he watches you in the rearview.

Once you’re dressed, you awkwardly slide into the passenger seat. The scent of his cologne makes your head pound and your stomach flip.

“I want to go home.”

His lips part, preparing to persuade you otherwise. The hotel room he booked is ready and waiting, just as it is every Friday. He decides against it, simply murmuring an ‘okay’ before putting the keys in the ignition and starting the engine.

“Do you want to get something to eat before I drop you off?”

You just want your dad.

“I just want to go home.”

Other than the whoosh of splashing puddles and your soft sniffles, the ride to your house is painfully silent. Leaning your head against the window, you watch the moon. For miles and miles, it never changes. It’s stagnant, frozen in time, surrounded by nothing but endless blackness.

“Stop crying! I can’t stand it anymore!” Jungkook shouts, hitting the steering wheel with his open palm, finally growing uncomfortable from your non-stop tears. The sudden outburst makes you flinch. Sighing heavily, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Just… stop crying, please.”

You sink further into your seat, curling your lips into your mouth to suppress a sob.

“I’m not worth your tears, __.”

You feel nothing but relief when he finally turns onto your street, stopping all the way at the end, concealed by the night and the shadows of overhanging trees.

“Am I picking you up next Friday?” He asks just before you leave.

With raw cheeks and a scowl, you slam the door in his face.

Your feet are so heavy that the sidewalk sinks under you like quicksand. No matter how many steps you take, the comfort of your house seems out of reach. Too far gone. Confusion weighs on your shoulders. You should feel proud, empowered even, but that voice in the back of your mind smothers any sense of relief.

Deep down, you know this isn’t going to be the last weekend you spend with Jungkook.

#bts #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook angst #btshoneyhive

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