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awrkive · 5 months ago

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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.�� You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!"

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that!

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away.

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him.

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com.

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless.

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk.

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes.

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you.

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either.

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you.

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost.

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed.

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck! Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

#fic: nb #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x you #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook

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chosok-amo · 6 days ago

Text

LITTLE LOOSE TO SAVE THOUSAND, g. suguru

☆ sum. your roommate ’bout to show you have to make easy-money and become rich in one night, wonder how? no? have no idea? probably not. but geto has lots of lamps hanging around his head and he’s about to show you how easy it is to make money, psst. . . you may not be able to walk after— but you don’t know, yet.

warning. non-sorcerer au, roomate-geto, sqūirting, exhibitionism, anāl, spanking, praises, dirty talk, pet-names, fingēring, dōuble-penetration, degrāding, name-calling, geto is dirty mannnn.

sitting in the kitchen, a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of you, you held chopsticks in one hand and your phone in the other, scrolling endlessly through job listings, searching for another side gig to earn extra money. apparently, everything seems to revolve around money these days.

you sighed, setting your phone down on the table—not too roughly, though; you couldn’t afford a replacement if it broke, especially with your student loans hanging over you.

a chuckle made you look up, and there stood your roommate, suguru geto— a medical student at your university, clearly amused by the frustrated look on your face.

you frowned as geto walked over to the fridge, bending down to grab a bottle of water. only then did you really take in his appearance—he was wearing nothing but a pair of snug, black calvin klein boxers that hugged his muscular, toned body— toned cock, a fucking huge one.

you shifted your gaze to the window to avoid staring, but when he moved closer and took a seat across from you at the small, round dining table, it was impossible to ignore his presence. scowling, you poked at your now almost-cold chicken noodle soup with your chopsticks and muttered, “you’re not funny, you know that, right?”

geto just smirked, unbothered by your irritation. he was well-known around campus for his striking looks, his intelligence, and his impressive physique. everyone knew him not only for his kindness and calm nature but also because he was best friends with another popular figure, gojo satoru. yet, there was another side to geto that added to his reputation—he was a live streamer, and not just any streamer, he is a fucking porn star.

geto ran a successful channel that catered to an adult audience, where he would occasionally show off that sculpted body and let people get a taste of his rich, honeyed voice. he had a loyal fanbase willing to pay for the privilege of watching him, and his popularity only seemed to grow each day.

people paid good money to watch him become a whimpering, trembling mess, undone by pleasure until he was left breathless. they’d pay to see him moan and shiver, eyes rolling back as choked sounds escaped his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled for air.

to see his, massive, veiny cock; how it’s twitching and throbbing around another veiny, muscle hand of his. geto is sooo beautiful when he drowns in pleasure, you almost want to see it to yourself.

they paid to see him in that state—to see sweat and tears glisten on his flushed cheeks, his face turning that deep, crushed-cherry red. his toned chest would rise and fall in desperate gasps, every inhale and exhale a battle to steady himself. it was intoxicating for his viewers to witness the way he fell apart on camera, giving them every last bit of him.

and you? you were one of the few who could hear it all through the thin walls you shared, every broken sound slipping through. he never even bothered with soundproofing his studio, claiming he just wanted to “help you out a little,” in case you ever wanted to listen in.

he was utterly shameless.

you were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of geto's smooth, velvet voice. a chuckle escaped his lips, a teasing smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. he took a sip from the bottle of water he was holding in his hand, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his jaw flexed with each swallow, only adding to the smugness in his expression.

“what’s with the attitude?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. you knew he was enjoying this; he liked it when you were riled up. it was a game to him, a way to get under your skin, maybe under you.

you scoffed, crossing your arms as you shot him a glare. “i don’t have an attitude,” you bit back, though your narrowed eyes and scowl made it clear you weren’t exactly in a friendly mood. even though you denied it, your glare only seemed to fuel his amusement, his smirk growing wider as he watched you struggle not to react.

there was a brief moment of silence, the only sound filling the air was the gentle bubbling of your chicken noodle soup and the soft slurping coming from geto as he took another sip of his water. his eyes never left your face, a playful glint in his violet irises as he studied you, taking in your every move.

“you’re really grumpy when you’re looking for a new job, you know that?” he said, his words were casual, as if he was commenting on the weather.

you rolled your eyes, letting out an exasperated huff. “well, not everyone can make money as easily as you,” you muttered, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

his words were so casual, so nonchalant, as if he were pointing out the color of the sky, and that only irked you more, like you want nothing but slap his beautiful face, thinking maybe, just maybe. . . he will let out a pleasure moan like you after heard. meanwhile, he kept studying you with that amused, knowing look in his violet eyes, as though your frustration was his favorite form of entertainment.

geto’s smirk widened, clearly finding your reaction amusing. he took another sip of his water before responding, his voice low and smooth.

“hmm,” he hum, eyes glinting with mischief. he leaned back in his chair, casually draping his toned arms over the back of it, completely at ease in his near-naked state. his muscles flexed subtly with each movement, drawing your gaze no matter how hard you tried to resist.

“i could help you, you know?” he said, his tone almost sweet. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at you with a deceptively innocent expression, batting his lashes at you.

“that is, if you’re interested in making some easy money. there is a catch, though.”

you scowled, trying to focus on your soup instead of his physique— his chest, his glisten abs, the growing bulge underneath the black, stretch fabric, in general, just him. but it was difficult to ignore the way the muscles in his arms and chest flexed with even the slightest movement.

it was infuriating how effortlessly attractive he was, and how nonchalantly he seemed to show it off. he knew the effect he had on people, and he was clearly enjoying the reaction it drew out of you.

geto leaned back in his chair again, looking at you with a knowing smile. his arms were still raised, showing off his well-defined biceps and triceps, like a lion flaunting its strength.

“the catch is,” he said, pausing for a moment as he took a sip of his water, “it’s a little bit more. . . hands-on, shall we say?”

his words left a lot up to interpretation, and he was clearly enjoying how you were trying to decipher what he was suggesting. his expression was a mixture of mischief and amusement, as if he was watching an interesting social experiment unfold before him.

“but, if you're interested,” he added, his tone turning almost suggestive, “i could introduce you to my side gig.” he licked his lips, tongue darting across his lower lip in an almost sensual way, before taking another sip of his water.

and for a moment, just a beat, you wonder how his tongue feels licking your dripping cunt.

you raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep your expression as indifferent as possible, even though his suggestive tone and the lewd imagination was starting to get to you. humming softly, you leaned back a bit, feigning complete nonchalance.

“yeah? who, yourself?” you replied, voice smooth and dismissive, as if his little game had no effect on you. but the way he licked his lips—slow, deliberate—had your heartbeat picking up and your thighs flushing against one another, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

geto’s violet eyes narrowed, a sly smile playing on his lips. he leaned forward, his chair scraping slightly against the ground as he moved closer to you. the distance between you two felt like it had suddenly shrunk, and you caught a whiff of his cologne—spicy, musky, and distinctly masculine.

“oh sweetheart,” he purred, his voice dripping with honey-sweet condescension, “it’s a bit more involved than that.” he paused again, savoring the moment, his eyes locked on yours. he lifted his hand and ran his fingers down his neck, tracing the lines of his defined collarbone, before resting his hand lightly on his chest.

geto leaned back once more, his casual smirk widening as he took another sip of his water. his eyes never left your face, though, and you could see the challenge in them. he was trying to test you, to see if he could break you, to see if you were as indifferent as you were trying to appear.

he licked his lips once more, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path across his lower lip. his gaze dropped to your neck for a moment, taking in your visible gulp before his eyes flicked down to your breast, a little nipples peeking through your baby tee. cute.

“but if you’re up for it,” he continued, his tone teasing, “i could show you just how hands-on it can be.”

and in a beat. . .

geto had you naked, looking all pretty and flustered on his lap, fingers slowly teasing your little bud with precise strokes— thighs spread wide open for the world to see with your back kissing his broad chest, intertwine with his soft skin.

you freeze up momentarily, taken aback by the sudden intimacy and exposure. your heart races as you glance around the room, hoping no one outside these walls might stumble upon this bizarre situation. the warmth of geto’s body against yours and the gentle pressure of his fingers make it hard to think straight.

“uh, hi... everyone,” you manage to stammer out, trying to sound casual despite the awkwardness. “i guess i’m here now.”

your gaze flickers between the camera lens and geto’s face, searching for any sign of mockery or exploitation. but all you see is his usual calm demeanor, albeit with a hint of excitement. it’s disconcerting yet strangely reassuring.

as he mentions donations influencing their actions, a mix of trepidation and curiosity swirls inside you. what exactly does he have planned? and should you care, given the financial benefits?

“there there, relax,” geto murmurs into your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin as he pulls you closer against his bare chest. “it’s just us and our lovely audience. nothing to worry about,” he chuckles softly, clearly amused by your nervousness.

his fingers continue their slow, teasing dance across your slick folds, sending shivers through your body despite the growing unease. “you’re doing great, by the way. sooo natural in front of the camera already,” he praises, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

“our viewers are going to love you.”

on the screen, the donation counter begins to climb rapidly as curious minds tune in, eager to witness this unexpected twist of the new star. geto grins wickedly, relishing the attention.

the live chat starts to fill with messages, some requesting specific acts, others simply expressing their enthusiasm for the new addition to geto’s streams. the atmosphere in the room shifts, becoming more electric and charged with anticipation.

“looks like we’ve got some early requests coming in, let’s see...” geto purrs, scrolling through the increasingly lewd suggestions flooding the chat. “it seems our viewers have quite the imagination.”

he selects a particularly generous donation from someone requesting a deep kiss, smirking as he turns his attention back to you through the screen in front. “well, looks like we have our first task. shall we oblige?”

without waiting for a response, geto leans in close— drawing his fingers from your dripping cunt, mindlessly smearing your juice on your cheek the way he pushes your head to the side, lips brushing against yours in a feather-light caress before capturing them fully. his tongue teases the seam of your mouth, coaxing you to part your lips and grant him entry.

his other hand makes a home on your stomach to keep you pressed over his chest— fingertips leaving trails of fire on your sensitive skin, and the kiss deepens, becoming more heated and passionate as geto pours all his focus into this intimate act.

the initial shock fades into a strange sort of numbness as geto’s lips claim yours, his skilled tongue exploring the depths of your mouth. it’s both thrilling and terrifying, the intensity of the kiss overwhelming your senses.

despite the chaos swirling in your mind, you find yourself responding instinctively, meeting his passion with a tentative eagerness of your own. your hands come up to grip the muscles of his arm on your stomach, fingers barely curling into the soft flesh as if anchoring yourself to reality.

when geto finally breaks the kiss, leaving you panting and dazed, you notice the audience eagerly devouring every second of this private display. a wave of self-consciousness washes over you, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the lingering heat of his touch and the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“mmm,” you hum, satisfied— eyes down to his glistening lips before meeting his hungry irises.

geto is a veryyyy good kisser.

“my my,” geto purrs, a low, sultry tone rumbling through his chest and into your body pressed so intimately against his. “color me impressed,” geto praises lowly once he pulled away from your messy kiss, his fingers lightly brushing across your jawline, smearing your juices over the path.

the contrast between that innocent gesture versus how your slick fluids shone across your cheek has him chuckling under his breath. geto was tempted to lick it clean but held himself back for later.

“the chat loves you already, don’t they?” geto points out playfully as he turned the angle to show off you completely sprawled across his lap in nothing. the circles around your nipples was evident and the sheer number of requests wanting to watch him toy with them, pinch and pull only added to his perverse glee.

“ah, yes,” geto says with a smirk, noticing your gaze drifting down to his hand still resting on your stomach. “’m quite fond of touching you myself, these little beauties need some attention,” he remarks, his voice laced with amusement and arousal. geto’s fingers drift lower, tracing the curves of your breasts before pinching and rolling your hardened nipples between thumb and forefinger. he tugs gently, watching with a smirk as you gasp and arch into his touch.

his thumb grazes over the swell of your breast, circling the hardened nipple before giving it a light pinch. “mmm, you’re so responsive.”

he leans in to whisper huskily in your ear, “our viewers seem to agree. they’re begging for more.” geto glances at the screen, where the donation counter continues to rise and the chat fills with pleas for him to explore your body further.

with a wicked grin, he slides his hand lower, fingers trailing down your quivering belly and dipping into your wet slit for the second time. “shall we give them a show?” he asks, stroking your sensitive folds with deliberate slowness, building the tension within you.

a soft whimper escapes your parted lips as geto’s fingers tease your most intimate area, the each delicate strokes igniting sparks of pleasure throughout your cunt. your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, more contact with his skilled digits.

the combination of his skilled touch and the voyeuristic thrill of performing for an unseen audience sends waves of heat coursing through your veins.

the sensation of his calloused palm cupping your breast, the subtle pinch and tug on your nipple, sends jolts of electricity coursing through your veins. your back arches, pressing your chest further into his touch as you let out a breathy moan.

when geto whispers in your ear, promising to give the audience a show, a flush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. the thought of performing for strangers, of letting them bear witness to your most private moments, is both mortifying and exhilarating.

geto’s knowing smile and the way his eyes gleam with mischief only fuel the desire burning within you. you feel powerless yet exhilarated, surrendering to the moment and the talented hands guiding you towards ecstasy.

“yes,” you manage to whimper, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart— heavy with desire. “show ‘em. . .”

along the way geto continues to tease your most sensitive areas, you can’t help but imagine the faces behind those screens, the fantasies they must be conjuring based on the live spectacle unfolding before them. the thought adds a layer of eroticism to the experience, making you acutely aware of your naked vulnerability.

geto lets out a pleased hum at your eager affirmation, fingers continuing their sensual exploration of your wet folds. he rubs slow, firm circles over your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your legs tremble and your hips jerk reflexively against his hand.

“that’s it, baby,” he coos, voice dripping with seduction as he watches your reactions closely. “let them see how much you enjoy this.”

as if to prove his point, geto slides two fingers inside your clenching heat, pumping them slowly while his thumb keeps up its relentless stimulation of your swollen nub. he curls his fingers, searching for that spot deep within that always seemed to send you over the edge.

at the same time, geto captures your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing your mewls of pleasure as he tastes the sweetness of your arousal.

your head falls back against geto’s shoulder as he claims your mouth, the dual sensations of his fingers plunging deep within your core and his thumb rubbing insistently over your clit becoming almost too much to bear. you moan into the kiss, the vibrations echoing through your chest as your inner walls begin to flutter and clench around his invading digits.

geto’s words of encouragement only add to the intensity, the knowledge that you’re putting on a show for an unseen audience heightening the thrill. you can’t help but imagine the lewd thoughts racing through their minds as they watch you lose control, the filthy fantasies they must be conjuring based on the live feed.

as geto hits that sweet spot inside you, your entire body seizes up, back arching sharply as a powerful orgasm rips through you. “mmm— sugu, fuck.”

geto grins wickedly as he feels your pussy clamping down on his fingers, your cries of ecstasy filling the air. he doesn’t let up, continuing to pump and twist his digits within your spasming channel, drawing out your little climax for the viewing audience.

“look at her, she’s cumming all over my fingers,” he announces, voice rough with arousal as he brings the slick digits to his mouth, sucking them clean. “she tastes divine.”

he turns his focus back to you, purple eyes blazing with hunger as he takes in your flushed face and heaving chest. geto slides one hand up to cup your chin, tilting your head back as he leans in for another dominating kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

“my, aren’t you just the prettiest thing when you’re all worked up?” geto purrs, breaking the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline and down the column of your throat. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as if savoring your scent.

“and you smell incredible,” he murmurs, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. geto’s hands roam over your body, mapping out every curve and dip, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“but i think our audience wants more,” he reminds you, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze through the screen. you gasp as geto pulls away from your neck, his husky praise and the lingering heat of his lips making you ache for more. the sight of him licking his fingers clean, savoring the evidence of your pleasure, sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through you.

there’s a mischievous glint in his amber eyes, a promise of debauchery to come. “she’s such a slut, eh? already cum a minute after i finger fuck her,” he talks to the audience, pretty little smug covering his face.

his words, spoken directly to the camera, make your cheeks burn with embarrassment and arousal. the idea of being reduced to nothing more than a sexual object for these strangers’ entertainment is both humiliating and intensely erotic.

you squirm under geto’s roaming touch, skin prickling with goosebumps as he explores every inch of you. his teasing comments and the predatory gleam in his eyes leave no doubt about what he intends to do next.

geto smirks at the viewer's reaction to calling you a ‘slut’, clearly enjoying the power dynamic between you two and the effect it has on the audience.

“looks like someone likes watching me defile you,” he taunts, trailing a finger down your chest to circle your pert nipple, giving it a playful tweak. “shall i keep going, or have we got a winner for who blows their load first?”

his words are provocative, aimed directly at the camera, as if daring anyone to challenge him or try to outdo him in this twisted game of sexual tit-for-tat. the cocky confidence in his tone is intoxicating, making you feel small and vulnerable beneath his dominant gaze.

as he speaks, geto’s other hand roams lower, fingertips dancing across your belly before slipping between your thighs once more.

his fingers dance over your slick folds once more, gathering more of your essence before trailing upwards to circle your puckered rosebud. “and then, maybe, i’ll take this tight little hole next,” he teases, applying gentle pressure, “just to show everyone how versatile you are.”

geto’s words are laced with lust, and the thought of submitting to such intense degradation in front of a live audience has you panting and squirming in anticipation. the notion that these strangers are witnessing your utter submission, your complete loss of control, only heightens the eroticism of the situation.

“oh— suguru,” a choked moan escapes your lips as geto’s fingers tease your sensitive flesh, the prospect of being taken in such a filthy way sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. you can feel your own arousal coating his digits, easing the path as he circles your virgin entrance.

the humiliation of being spoken about so crudely, of having your most intimate acts broadcast for the world to see, is almost too much to bear. yet there’s something undeniably thrilling about surrendering to geto completely, letting him use your body however he sees fit while an audience looks on.

your nipples harden into stiff peaks, aching for his touch as you writhe helplessly against him. you know he can feel how wet you are— practically dripping down to his thighs— how desperately your body craves more of his ministrations.

geto chuckles darkly at your helpless moans, clearly relishing the power he holds over you in this moment. he continues to torment your rosebud, pressing and circling the sensitive bud until you’re writhing and mewling like a needy kitten.

“such a good girl, getting so excited over the idea of taking my cock in your tight ass,” he praises, his voice low and seductive. “i wonder... should i give the folks at home a preview?”

without waiting for a response, geto guides the tip of his middle finger past your resistant ring muscle, sinking slowly into your clenching heat. he pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, before beginning to push in deeper.

“shit, feels so good wrapped around me,” geto groans softly as he sinks his finger deeper into your tight rear passage, relishing the way your muscles grip him like a vice. he starts to thrust in and out, gradually increasing the pace as he works you open.

“watch her stretch around my finger,” he instructs the camera, his voice thick with lust. “she’s so fucking tight, but i bet she’d take my cock even better.”

geto’s free hand reaches up to fondle your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers as he continues to finger-fuck your ass. the dual sensations of his probing digit and the stimulation to your sensitive nipple send sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves.

a high-pitched whine tears from your throat as geto’s finger pushes deeper, stretching your anal walls to accommodate the intrusion. the burning sensation is intense, but not unpleasant, and you find yourself arching back against him, seeking more of that delicious friction.

“ahh, s-suguru! not there, fuck—” you cry out, your voice trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure. the feeling of being so thoroughly penetrated, of having your most private area exposed and used for the amusement of others, is overwhelming.

geto’s filthy talk only adds to your arousal, the knowledge that he’s watching you suffer (or enjoy) this degrading act for the benefit of his online fans making you feel like a cheap whore. and yet, you can’t deny the thrill that courses through you at the thought of being seen in such a compromising position.

geto’s eyes gleam with sadistic glee as he watches you squirm and whimper under his touch. he loves seeing you brought to the brink of discomfort, knowing that it’s all part of the twisted game he’s playing with you.

“shhh, don't worry, baby,” he coos, his voice dripping with false concern. “i’m just getting you ready for my big cock. you’ll love every inch of it buried deep inside you.”

with that promise, geto begins to pump his finger faster, driving it in and out of your stretched asshole with ruthless efficiency. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your breathless cries and the hum of the webcam.

“look at her, guys,” he addresses the camera, his gaze never leaving your flushed face through the screen of his computer.

geto’s free hand snakes around to the front of your body, seeking out your throbbing clit. he finds the swollen nub easily, rubbing firm circles around it as he continues to finger your ass.

“doesn’t she look pretty like this?” he asks the audience, his voice a low purr. “all spread out and filled, taking everything i give her like a good slut.”

he presses a second finger alongside the first, scissoring them apart to stretch you further. the burn intensifies, but so does the pleasure, and you find yourself rocking back onto his hand, chasing both.

“fuck, watch her beg for it,” geto growls, his thumb now rubbing rough circles over your clit. “she’s loving this, aren’t you, whore? loving being used for everyone to see?”

your mind reels as geto’s fingers plunge deeper, the double penetration sending waves of intense pleasure crashing through your body. you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of climax, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around his invading digits.

“fuck, fuckkk,” you wail, no longer caring about the lewdness of your words, head thrown back to his shoulder blade. “deeper. . . please.”

the admission slips out before you can stop it, and you flush with shame, realizing the whole world must have heard your desperate plea. but the humiliation only fuels your desire, making you grind back against geto’s hand with renewed urgency.

“fuck, just like that,” he encourages, his fingers curling to hit that sweet spot inside you. “ride my hand, slut. show these perverts what a greedy little cumslut you are. let ’em watch as i prepare your sweet little ass for my cock, yeah?”

geto smirks wickedly at your submission, pleased by how easily you succumb to his dominance. he picks up the pace, fingering you harder and faster as he watches you lose control.

“that’s it, come undone for me,” he urges, his voice husky with lust. “let go, you dirty little cumwhore. i want to see you squirt all over my hand while you plead for my cock. are you a squirter, baby?”

his fingers move in tandem with his thumb, stroking your clit and prodding, pumping his fingers at your g-spot relentlessly. the combination proves too much, and with a keening wail, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, threatening to overwhelm you entirely.

spasms rip through your sex, your juices gushing out to soak geto’s fingers and palm.

your entire body seizes up as the intense climax rips through you, every nerve ending alight with electric pleasure. you thrash wildly, unable to contain the convulsions that wrack your frame as wave after wave of euphoria washes over you.

“ah, fuuck!” you scream, the sound torn from your throat by the sheer force of your release.

your hips buck erratically, grinding your soaked pussy against geto’s hands as if trying to milk every last drop of pleasure from the intense orgasm. your inner walls clamp down hard on his fingers, milking them for all they’re worth as you ride out the aftershocks.

“ah, there there, we’ve got a squirter, everyone,” geto grin to the camera, slapping your cunt while you lean against his chest, panting heavily, body quivering with residual pleasure.

geto chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying the sight of you coming undone so spectacularly. he keeps his fingers buried deep inside you, letting you grind against them as you float down from your high.

“now that’s what i call a money shot,” he remarks to the camera, holding up his drenched hand for all to see. “this slut really knows how to make a mess, doesn’t she?”

withdrawing his fingers slowly, he brings them to his mouth, making a show of licking your essence off each digit. “mmm, delicious. but i think our viewers deserve a real treat.”

in one smooth motion, geto stand and spins you around and bends you over the desk, kicking your legs apart. the cold surface against your heated skin makes you gasp. “arch your back, baby.”

your breath hitches as geto positions you over the desk, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your cunt. you instinctively arch your back, presenting yourself to him as instructed, your thighs trembling slightly from the aftermath of your intense orgasm.

your legs tremble, presenting your dripping cunt to geto. the cool wood of the desk and the ac feels stark against your sensitive flesh, heightening your awareness of your vulnerability.

“sugu,” you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for anymore— more humiliation, more pain, more pleasure? all you know is that you crave whatever geto has planned next.

behind you, you hear the rustle of fabric, followed by the unmistakable sound of geto freeing his erection. the anticipation is agonizing, your body aching with need even as fear coils in your stomach at the prospect of taking his massive cock.

geto is fucking huge.

“hurry,” you breathe, looking back at him over your shoulder with pleading eyes.

geto’s lips curve into a cruel smirk as he takes in the sight of you presented so wantonly before him. he runs a hand up your spine, nails digging in just enough to leave faint red marks on your skin.

his eyes darkened with lust the moment his big, veiny hand found a place on your ass, grasping the plushy meat eagerly before giving you a mean slap. slap, slap, slap, until it is angry in red. the sight of your splayed form, ass in the air with his hand visibly printed, dripping wet and ready for him.

his thick cock juts out proudly, the tip already glistening with pre-cum, bobbing menacingly between his thighs. he grips the base, giving himself a few slow strokes, coating his length in pre-cum.

“patience, darling,” he purrs, trailing a finger down your spine to rest between your shoulder blades. “we don’t want to rush this. not when the perverts are so eager to see me fuck you.”

with a firm grip on his cock, he notches the bulbous head at your entrance, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. “sshh, breathe,” he commands softly, voice hush and the vibration of his chest when he leans down to give your shoulder a kiss making you softly groan. “you can take it. just relax and let me in.”

slowly, inexorably, he begins to push forward, stretching your opening wider than ever before. geto sheaths himself to the hilt, burying his length inside you with a low groan. the tight squeeze of your cunt envelops him, and for a moment, he simply savors the feeling, letting you adjust to his size; his head is thrown back, and eyes closed as he is too, adjusting to the feeling of your warm cunt around his cock. “fuckkk,” a low whisper could be heard.

geto is good at fucking, his cock has been through a bunch of cunt, but never quite like yours. god, you feel heaven.

the sensation of geto pushing into you is overwhelming, his thickness stretching your walls wide to accommodate him. you grit your teeth, biting back a moan as he buries himself fully within you, filling you completely.

each vein and ridge of his engorged shaft is a brand against your sensitive walls, marking you as his. the fullness is intoxicating, leaving you dizzy with pleasure and desire.

you know geto is big, but fuck.

“oh god... sugu...” you whimper, your body trembling under the weight of his domination. your hands curl into fists, knuckles white as you fight back the urge to push back against him.

but despite the discomfort, despite the pain, there’s no denying the pleasure that courses through you with him just treasure the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock. your cunt climates around him, gripping tightly as if trying to keep him inside you forever.

geto lets out a guttural groan as he bottoms out inside you, relishing the way your hot, slick walls clutch at his throbbing cock. he stays still for a moment, savoring the exquisite feeling of being buried to the hilt in your willing body.

with a satisfied grunt, geto starts moving, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm designed to drag out both his pleasure and yours. each thrust is deep and measured, the heavy swing of his balls slapping lewdly against your clit.

he reaches around to grasp your throat with one hand, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp and arch your back further, presenting yourself even more enticingly. his other hand finds your breast, roughly palming the soft mound before pinching your nipple between thumb and forefinger, tear a high-pitched squeal from you.

“that’s it, good, good,” he growls, his voice muffled slightly by his gritted teeth. “take my cock like a good little cumslut,” he added, drawing another softly gasp after gasp.

“fuck, pussy feels amazing wrapped around my cock like this,” geto grunts, picking up speed as he pounds into you relentlessly. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, and you can feel every inch of his massive cock dragging against your inner walls.

he releases your throat to slide a hand down your belly, fingers dipping into your dripping slit to circle your clit. “gonna make you cum on my cock, then fill this tight cunt with my seed,” he promises, his voice rough with lust.

geto’s grip move to your hip, tightens as he drives into you harder, the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and your needy whimpers. he leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he captures your earlobe between his teeth, nibbling and sucking. “do you like that, baby?”

geto’s words send shivers down your spine, his filthy promises igniting a fire within you. each brutal thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through your body, your cunt clenching greedily around his pistoning cock.

the dual sensations of his fingers teasing your clit and his teeth grazing your earlobe are almost too much to bear. you can’t help but buck wildly against him, desperate for more friction, more stimulation.

“uh, mmm,” you cry out, your voice low and breathless, barely a word as there your mind goes somewhere.

geto’s grip on your hip is bruising, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fucks you with reckless abandon. the desk rattles ominously beneath you, the wood creaking in protest at the force of his thrusts.

geto’s lips twist into a cruel smile at your inability to speak coherently, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. “cat got your tongue?” he taunts playfully, giving your clit a sharp pinch. “don’t worry, i’ll fuck some sense into you soon enough.”

he picks up the pace, hammering into you with ruthless intensity. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes obscenely through the room, mixing with your garbled moans and pleas for more. sweat beads on his brow as he chases his own pleasure, lost in the primal act of claiming what’s his.

“look at you,” he pants, admiring how your body yields so perfectly to his desires. “taking my cock like you were made for it.”

“hng,” you let out a high-pitched wail as geto continues to pound mercilessly into you, each thrust sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. your mind is foggy, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

all you can focus on is the feeling of geto’s thick cock splitting you open, the delicious stretch of your walls around his girthy length. your legs tremble uncontrollably, threatening to give out from under you as he relentlessly fucks you into the desk.

your fingers scrabble desperately at the surface, searching for purchase as geto’s powerful thrusts rock your entire frame. droplets of sweat trickle down your face, mingling with the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations.

“ahh, f-fuuck!”

geto’s eyes gleam with wicked delight as he pulls you upright, forcing you to face the camera head-on. he keeps a firm grip on your arms with one arm, holding you steady as he presses close behind you.

“there we go,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck possessively. “let them all see what a desperate little slut you are for me.” his free hand drifts down your body, fingers dancing teasingly across your slick folds.

you can feel the heat of his gaze on you through the screen, drinking in your debauched appearance— hair mussed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from biting back your cries. he licks a slow stripe up the column of your neck, tasting the salt of your sweat.

“you look so beautiful like this,” he murmured only for you to hear.

he holds you firmly in place, your back pressed against his chest as he keeps you positioned in front of the camera. your face is flushed, eyes glazed over with lust, and mouth hanging open in a silent scream— the perfect picture of a woman thoroughly ravaged by her dominant roommate.

“everyone, doesn’t she look adorable when she’s stuffed full of cock?” geto purrs into your ear, loud enough for the audiences to hear, his warm breath making you shiver. his free hand reaches around to cup your breast, kneading the soft flesh as he continues to fondle you for the audience’s viewing pleasure.

“tell them how much you love taking my cock, baby,” he commands, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. “be a good girl and tell those perverts.”

he applies pressure to your nipple, twisting and tugging on them mercilessly, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

geto’s words send another wave of shame and arousal washing over you, your face burning hot as you realize just how exposed and vulnerable you are right now. the knowledge that hundreds, maybe thousands of people are watching you in this state— completely owned and used by your roommate— only heightens your desperation.

you whimper pathetically, unable to form coherent words as geto continues to torment your sensitive nipple. your whole body quakes with the effort of staying upright, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment.

“good. . . feel so good, your cock inside me,” you manage to stammer out, the word torn from your throat on a ragged breath. “i love... i love your cock...” tears spill down your cheeks as geto’s relentless stimulation pushes you closer and closer to the edge. the humiliation of being so exposed, so vulnerable, only serves to heighten your arousal.

“i... i l-love it,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need. “i love takin’ your cock, suguru. it feels so good inside me...”

as if to emphasize your point, your hips twitch involuntarily, seeking reconnection with the thick shaft still throbbing with need mere inches away. your hands come up to clutch at geto’s wrists, nails digging into his skin as you try to anchor yourself amidst the storm of sensation.

“p-please, sugu... i need... i need to cum...” you beg, your voice cracking with desperation.

geto chuckles darkly at your pitiful begging, clearly relishing the power he holds over you. “need to cum, huh? well, who am i to deny such a desperate plea from a dirty girl?”

he spins you around to face him, one hand gripping your chin as the other wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body. his amber eyes bore into yours, glinting with sadistic intent.

“but first, i think it’s time for a little show.“ with that, he lifts you effortlessly back to his chair, spreading your thighs wide apart after planting you in his lap once again with your back against his hard, sweaty chest. the camera zooms in, capturing every intimate detail of your soaked, swollen sex.

geto sinks to the chair, one arm around your waist while the other letting the fingers dancing around your trembling thigh before kissing your cunt, spread the lips open, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “let’s give these pervs something to really jerk off to, shall we?” and that, everyone can see your cunt clenches, unclenches around nothing.

geto smirks as he reads through the barrage of comments flooding in, many of them praising his rough treatment of you and demanding more. he clicks on a few particularly enthusiastic ones, letting the crude messages wash over you.

geto lets out a low, appreciative hum, clearly enjoying the attention and validation from his online fans. his fingers continue their maddening exploration of your most sensitive areas, dipping and circling around your entrance without ever quite breaching you.

“oh my, looks like the chat is absolutely ravenous for more,” geto says with a smirk, leaning in close to the screen to glance at the flood of comments scrolling past. “it seems a lot of our viewers have very... specific requests for our little live show.”

his eyes flicker over the text, a devious smile growing wider on his face. “well, well, well. looks like someone wants to see me fuck your ass next,” he teases, giving your cheek a playful pinch. “how about that, baby? ready to let me split you open from both ends?”

the suggestion sends a jolt of trepidation mixed with forbidden excitement through your body. the thought of geto’s massive cock invading your most private, taboo hole is undeniably filthy—and terrifyingly arousing.

your stomach churns with a mix of dread and anticipation at the idea of geto claiming your virgin asshole. the thought alone is enough to make your pussy clench and gush, soaking his fingers as they tease your entrance. despite the terror, there’s an undeniable thrill building within you, a dark desire to surrender to his dominance and submit to whatever depraved acts he might demand.

“but..” you whimper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “sugu. . . i- never,” the words taste bitter on your tongue, but you can’t deny the hunger driving them. your body is already preparing itself for the brutal invasion, muscles fluttering and relaxing in anticipation.

geto’s fingers press harder against your rim, probing gently at the tight ring of muscle. a pink color spread underneath your skin, a bashfulness kissing your face, and your gaze darted from the camera.

geto laughs cruelly at your shy admission, clearly delighted by the prospect of being the first to claim such a naughty part of you. “never been touched back here, huh?” he muses, rubbing teasing circles around your clenched pucker. “well, i guess it’s lucky you’ve got me to pop your anal cherry then.”

the crowd in the chat goes wild at this revelation, dozens upon dozens of users flooding the screen with lewd encouragement and explicit demands. geto grins as he reads through some of the top replies aloud:

“someone wants me to stretch out your slutty little ass real good,” he drawls, applying pressure until the tip of his finger breaches your resistant ring. “make you scream for my cock.”

he works the digit deeper, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking knuckle-deep into your tight heat. he presses two fingers against your puckered hole, applying gentle yet insistent pressure. “but don’t worry, baby,” he coos, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “i’ll take good care of your tight little ass. just relax and trust me.”

geto glances up at the camera, a wicked gleam in his eye as he addresses the audience. “seems our girl here is a total anal virgin. can you believe it? she’s never had anything inside her pretty little ass.”

he gives your cheek a patronizing pat. “but don’t worry dirty girl, i’ll make sure to break you in nice and slow.” his lips leave a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder despite his filthy words and mean ministrations.

the sensation of geto’s fingers penetrating your untouched hole is overwhelming, sending waves of intense pleasure-pain coursing through your body. you bite your lip to stifle a moan, not wanting to encourage him further, but it’s no use— a strangled gasp escapes your throat as he pushes deeper, stretching you open inch by excruciating inch.

despite the discomfort, there’s an undeniable thrill building within you, a dark satisfaction in knowing you’re experiencing something so taboo and forbidden for the first time. geto’s words only add fuel to the fire, his taunts and promises of breaking you in igniting a hunger deep within your core.

“u-no, mmm,” you manage to choke out, shaking your head frantically even as your hips instinctively buck against his probing fingers. “please, sugu... i don’t know if i can...”

the sensation of geto’s fingers violating your untouched hole sends waves of discomfort and arousal coursing through your veins. each gentle prod and push stretches the tight ring of muscle, making your breath hitch and your body tremble. despite the pain, there’s an undeniable thrill building within you, a dark pleasure in submitting to his control and surrendering your most private parts to his use.

“a-anal...” you whimper, the word feeling foreign and dirty on your tongue.

your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment as you confess your inexperience to the world. the knowledge that hundreds of viewers are watching, vicariously experiencing your degradation, only heightens your mortification. and yet, there’s a twisted part of you that craves their approval, their lurid fascination with your defilement.

geto watches intently as you squirm and tremble beneath his touch, your reactions only spurring him on. he crooks his fingers slightly, searching for that sweet spot deep inside that will make you lose all control.

“shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he coos, his tone a soothing balm despite the brutality of his actions. “just breathe through it. you’re doing so well.”

as he speaks, geto begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your stretched hole, gradually picking up speed. the wet sounds of his penetration fill the room, mingling with your ragged breathing and the constant chatter of the live stream.

“look at that,” he purrs, addressing the camera once more. “our little anal virgin is taking it so well. she’s practically begging for more.”

geto’s fingers plunge deeper, curling to rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. your body responds instinctively, clenching and unclenching around the invading digits as pleasure starts to override the initial discomfort.

“see how she’s trembling?” he continues, his voice low and husky with lust. “her tight little ass is loving every second of this. and just listen to those sweet noises she’s making...”

he leans in closer, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “i think our girl is starting to enjoy being claimed, don’t you?”

the camera zooms in on your flushed face, capturing every twitch and shudder as geto’s fingers work their magic. the live chat erupts with lewd comments and cheering, urging him on as he takes you further into the depths of anal pleasure.

your mind reels as geto’s fingers continue their relentless assault on your virgin hole, the sound of your own desperate whimpers filling the air. the pleasure is intense, bordering on painful, but you can’t bring yourself to stop him. somehow, the depravity of it all only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more even as your brain screams in protest.

“sugu’, please...” you beg, but the words lack conviction. your hips roll involuntarily, meeting each thrust of his fingers as they plunder your depths. the sensation of being filled, of having something finally breach the last barrier of your innocence, is overwhelming.

geto’s praise only fuels the fire within you, his words painting a vivid picture of your submission and the twisted desires it satisfies.

“such a needy little thing,” geto praises, continuing his relentless pace. his thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud as his fingers curl inside you. “begging for more, aren’t you? dirty girl.”

as if to emphasize his point, he slides a third finger into your clutching heat, stretching you even wider. the added girth has you crying out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you struggle to accommodate the intrusion.

“oh, look at that,” geto coos, his eyes locked on where your body meets his. “she’s trying so hard to take it all. such a good little anal slut for me.”

tears prick at the corners of your eyes as geto’s fingers stretch you to your limits, the burning ache in your rectum intensifying with each brutal thrust. your body feels like it’s being torn apart, the pleasure and pain blending into an all-consuming agony that leaves you breathless and helpless.

“oh, fuuck!” you sob, almost scream, your voice cracking with desperation. the humiliation of being called a ‘slut’ only adds to your shame, but the way geto says it, with such reverence and adoration, makes you feel powerful in a way you never have before.

your hips jerk wildly, trying to meet his punishing rhythm even as your muscles strain to contain the invasion. the pressure builds at the base of your spine, coiling tighter and tighter until you’re certain you’ll snap in two. your body is about to fall forward, overwhelmed with his fingers stuffed in your little hole, but geto quick enough to hug your body, enveloped in the warm and secure embrace of his.

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you are good, pretty, sooo good,” he whispered a mantra in your ear, your ear only— thumb circling your stomach.

the live stream captures your writhing form, the sight of you lost in ecstasy sending the chat into a frenzy. viewers lavish praise upon you, some even placing bets on how long it’ll take before you reach your climax under geto’s skilled ministrations. but the man pulled his fingers out, “take a deep breath and pray baby, you’ll need that,” he whispered, and without further ado, his angry tip kissing your anal sex.

geto pauses for a moment, allowing you to catch your breath and steel yourself for what comes next. he reaches over to the bedside table, retrieving a bottle of lube from the drawer. you watch wide-eyed as he coats his impressive length generously, the clear fluid glistening obscenely in the dim light.

“i know it hurts, babygirl, but i promise it’ll feel so much better soon,” geto reassures as he positions himself between your spread cheeks. the head of his cock nudges insistently at your fluttering entrance, slick with pre-cum and primed for penetration.

with agonizing slowness, he begins to push inside, the thick crown breaching your sphincter with a muffled groan from both parties involved. inch by excruciating inch, he sinks deeper into your resisting flesh, pausing occasionally to let you adjust to the enormous size stretching you open.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” geto groans, his grip on your hips tightening possessively. he holds still for a moment, allowing you to acclimate to the intrusion before slowly withdrawing until just the tip remains nestled between your cheeks. then, with a sharp snap of his hips, he plunges back in, setting a brutal pace that has you seeing stars.

the pain is indescribable, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. it borders on unbearable, your body screaming in protest as it’s invaded so ruthlessly.

your vision blurs as the pain overwhelms you, tears streaming freely down your face. it feels like you’re being split in half, impaled on geto’s massive cock as he pounds into you mercilessly. your body is no longer your own, reduced to a vessel for his pleasure as he uses you like a cheap fleshlight.

and yet, beneath the agony, there’s a flicker of something else— a dark, twisted desire that thrills through your veins like poison. the degradation, the humiliation, the utter debasement of it all... it sets your soul ablaze with a perverse sense of euphoria.

“oh my-my god!” you hear yourself cry out, your voice ragged and desperate.

geto grunts in approval, his movements becoming even more forceful as he senses your reluctant surrender. he leans over you, his chest pressed against your back as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily.

“that’s it, thereee, fucking good,” he growls, nipping at your skin. his hands roam your body, squeezing and kneading your breasts roughly before sliding down to grasp your thighs, pushing your legs flush to your side. he uses them to pull you onto his cock with each thrust, driving himself impossibly deep.

“look at this ass, stretched out so beautifully around my cock,” geto pants, his gaze fixated on where your body meets his. “what a-fuuck a beautiful girl.”

the sound of flesh smacking against flesh fills the room, punctuated by your choked moans and geto’s animalistic grunts. the chair creaks ominously beneath you, straining to contain the frenzied activity. through the screen, geto, perfectly clear can see your glistening cunt and his cock ball deep inside your anal, a white ring around the base. his fingers bent your skin, hands grasping the flesh underneath your knees.

overwhelmed by sensation, you can barely process the words spilling from geto’s lips. his praise, his hunger, his complete and utter domination of your body—it all swirls together into a dizzying cocktail of pleasure and pain that threatens to consume you whole.

your mind goes blank, focused solely on the relentless pounding of his cock and the searing heat of his breath on your skin. you’re nothing more than a receptacle for his lust now, a mere conduit for his pleasure as he fucks you with ruthless abandon.

“suguuuuu, harder,” you manage to gasp out, your voice barely coherent. the thought of getting caught, of being exposed to the world as geto’s willing plaything, only serves to heighten your arousal. your body starts to quake, the coil of tension within you winding tighter and tighter.

geto chuckles darkly, pleased by your desperate plea. he complies eagerly, slamming into you with renewed vigor. the chair scrapes loudly across the floor as he picks up speed, the wooden frame creaking ominously under the force of his thrusts.

“oh, you want it rough, huh?” geto sneers, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “you like being used like a dirty little slut, don’t you?”

he punctuates his words with particularly harsh jabs of his hips, the blunt head of his cock dragging mercilessly against your sensitive inner walls. you can feel every ridge and vein, every throbbing inch of him claiming you as his own.

“fucking hell, you’re so close, aren’t you?” geto growls, his hot breath fanning over your neck.

yes, yes! you wanted to cum. you wanted to lose yourself completely, to forget everything except the raw, unfiltered pleasure coursing through your veins. you wanted to be used, to be fucked hard and fast until you saw stars.

“fuckkk,” you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. “wanna cum, gonna cum.”

your body writhes beneath geto, a silent plea for release. your mind is a whirlwind of sensations, each one sharper and more intense than the last. the pleasure is overwhelming, bordering on pain.

the sheer depravity of the situation sends you hurtling towards the brink of ecstasy. the knowledge that hundreds of strangers are watching you degrade yourself, submitting so shamelessly to geto’s sadistic whims, pushes you over the edge.

as he senses your impending climax, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. he redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with reckless abandon, chasing that sweet release.

geto’s grip on your under knees tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he senses your impending climax. he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “cum for me, babygirl. let go and make a mess for all these perverts to enjoy.”

his words are the final trigger you need. with a keening wail, you shatter, your orgasm ripping through you with the force of a tsunami.

“do it, cum for me,” he commands, his voice low and gravelly with lust. “let go, babygirl. show these perverts how a real slut squirts.”

his filthy words send you careening over the precipice. your entire body seizes up, convulsing violently as a torrent of pleasure crashes over you. wave after wave of ecstasy rips through your core, your pussy clenching rhythmically around the thick shaft buried deep inside you.

geto groans in satisfaction, feeling your walls flutter and milk his cock. he continues to pound into you, riding out your orgasm with brutal intensity, prolonging your pleasure for his own twisted amusement.

your mind is a blank slate, consumed entirely by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. your orgasm seems to last an eternity, each pulse of pleasure more intense than the last.

“ahhh,” you moan helplessly, your voice a high-pitched whine of ecstasy. tears of bliss stream down your face as you tremble and shake, lost in the maelstrom of your own climax. a span of your juice spurting the air, wetting the screen and camera as you squirt.

geto’s filthy encouragement only adds fuel to the fire, his crude words igniting a dark, shameful thrill within you. the knowledge that you’re making a spectacle of yourself, that you’re performing for an audience of voyeurs, sends a fresh wave of arousal crashing over you.

your body is a live wire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. you can feel geto’s cock throbbing inside you, his own release imminent.

the sight of you coming undone so spectacularly, the feel of your pussy clamping down on him like a vice—it’s too much for geto to resist. with a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and lets go.

“fuck, ’m cumming!“ he snarls, his hips stuttering erratically as he empties himself into your waiting hole. jet after jet of hot, thick seed floods your insides, painting your walls with his essence.

geto’s grip on your legs becomes almost bruising as he rides out his climax, his cock pulsing and twitching with each spurt. he grinds against you, ensuring every last drop is deposited deep within your battered ass.

geto stood tall, barely clothed, his still-hard cock in view, a smug sense of pride in his stance now that the camera was finally off. his gaze was fixed on his phone screen, scrolling through the latest comments from his audience with a small, satisfied smirk. a cigarette rested between his fingers, the faint glow casting shadows along his jawline.

meanwhile, you, now, lay sprawled out on his bed, a thin sheet draped over your still-trembling form as you tried to steady your breathing. the room was filled with the soft, lingering haze of smoke and the residual heat of the moment, your heart still racing as you attempted to regain your composure.

geto takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he reads through the deluge of comments flooding in. the praise and adoration from his fans never fails to boost his ego, and tonight was no exception.

he glances over at you, noticing your disheveled state and the way the sheet clings to your sweat-dampened skin. a wicked grin spreads across his face as he imagines the scene playing out in the minds of his viewers—the powerful, dominant man taking what he wants from a willing, if not desperate, partner.

getting bored with simply looking, geto sets his phone aside and saunters over to the bed. he looms over you, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he trails a finger down your cheek.

“not bad for a first timer, eh?” he teases, his tone laced with now amusement.

you let out a soft, tired hum, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at him. “did i do a good job?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, laced with a hint of playful innocence despite the exhaustion in your eyes.

geto chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with mischief as he takes another drag from his cigarette. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin as he speaks.

“oh, you did more than just a good job, sweetheart,” he purrs, his voice low and sultry. “you were absolutely exquisite. those moans, those screams... they’re going to haunt my dreams for weeks.”

he reaches out, tracing the curve of your jaw with his free hand before tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. there’s a hunger in his expression, a primal desire that sends a shiver down your spine.

“and the best part? knowing that all those perverts out there are jerking off to the memory of watching me claim you, watching you fall apart so beautifully for me.”

geto takes another deep drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing bright orange in the semi-darkness of the room. he flicks his ash into a nearby tray, his gaze never leaving yours as he studies your expression.

“you have no idea what you look like right now, do you?” he continues, his tone rough and husky, the tone that never fails to make chills race across your skin. “a flushed, messy, trembling mess, all because of me. and i love every bit of it.”

geto takes one last drag from his cigarette, the ember at the end burning brightly, before stubbing it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. he settles down beside you, his cock stand tall and his body radiating heat as he moves closer, draping one arm casually around your shoulders.

“speaking of those perverts out there,” he says, his tone still low and sultry, “they’re already begging for more.”

he picks up his phone back, scrolling through the latest comments from his fans, his smirk widening with each new lewd comment he reads.

geto scrolls through the endless comments on his phone, snickering at some of the dirtier ones. his eyes glance over at you as he reads, a smug, almost wicked grin on his face.

“wow, they really liked what they saw tonight, didn’t they?” he comments, his tone thick with amusement. he scrolls down a bit more, the screen casting a faint glow over his features, illuminating his perfect face in the shadows.

“they can’t get enough of you. they’re pleading for more, begging for a repeat performance. and how could they not?"

he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, a rare moment of tenderness breaking through his usual dominance. the gentle press of his lips against your forehead felt like a reward, a sign of his approval that filled you with a sense of pride and contentment.

at his words, you managed to lift your head slightly to peek at the chat, taking in the sea of emojis and the occasional message praising your performance. a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs, you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of accomplishment. you had pleased geto, and by extension, his loyal fanbase.

“that was good” you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. geto chuckled darkly as he scrolled through the chat, picking out some of the juiciest comments to share with you. “well, for starters, @sexyslayer89 says, ‘best fuck session ever! that dirty talk had me rock hard.’ and @cumhungrycutie remarks, ‘i wish i could squirt that much. so damn sexy.’”

he paused to smirk at you, clearly enjoying your blush at the explicit praise. “oh, and @suguruslut wants to know when you’ll be available for a threesome. apparently, she and her girlfriend are huge fans of yours.”

geto’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he continued reading aloud. “and this one’s my personal favorite: ‘@dickdrain3000 claims you’re the best cocksleeve he’s ever seen. he’s already planning his next visit.’”

taking a moment to scroll through the endless messages, geto chuckled, finding the right ones to read aloud. “look at this one— ‚best camgirl debut ever! she’s a natural.’ and here, ‘she’s got talent!’ they’re loving this, aren’t they?” he teased, flashing you a smirk before turning his attention back to the device in his hand.

“wow, looks like everyone loved seeing you take my cock like a champ,” geto said with a smirk, scrolling through the chat. “one user says, ‘damn, she took that dick so well! can’t wait to see more of her.’ another one says, ‘best stream ever, suguru! please have her come back soon!’”

he glanced at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “seems like you’ve got quite the fanbase now too. maybe we should make this a regular thing, hmm?”

geto set his phone aside and leaned in closer, his hand trailing teasingly along your side. “of course, we’d have to practice a lot more to keep our viewers satisfied. think you’re up for the challenge?”

you let out a soft moan as geto’s fingertips traced patterns along your sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. the idea of becoming a regular feature in geto’s streams, of having an entire fanbase eagerly awaiting your next appearance, sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

“mmm, i think Iicould get used to this,” you purred, arching into his touch. “practicing with you doesn’t seem like a chore at all.”

your eyes fluttered closed as geto’s hand drifted lower, skimming over your hip and coming to rest possessively on your thigh. the heat of his palm seeped into your skin, reigniting the embers of desire that had been smoldering since your explosive climax.

you look at his eyes before chuckling, “but you wish,” you mutter, giving his lips a peck before standing up. you take the rob that pools on the floor before slipping through the silk material.

geto watched you with darkened eyes as you stood up, the silk robe slipping over your naked body, the fabric caressing your curves in a way that made his mouth water. he couldn’t help but let out a deep, wanting moan, his eyes raking over your form as he leaned back against the headboard.

“you know, you look even more stunning in that robe,” he remarks, his voice a low rumble. “like a delicious little present, all wrapped up and ready for me to unwrap.”

he rises to his feet, towering over you with an air of confident dominance. his hands settle on your hips, fingers digging in gently as he pulls you flush against him.

his hands slide down to cup your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he grinds his hips against yours. you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach, hot and still hard and ready.

“hey,” he called out, his voice rough with annoyance, “where are you going?” he asks, his tone suggestive, his hot breath fanning over your face.

his hands squeeze a bit tighter, making it clear that he doesn’t intend to let you leave so easily. he leans down, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your shoulder.

“you know, you’re not getting very far,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice taking on a possessive edge. “especially not when you look like that, all wrapped up in my robe, smelling like me and looking absolutely delectable.”

you let out a soft, contented hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he continued to trail kisses along your skin. “i’m tired, you know,” you murmured, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his back. despite the exhaustion weighing on you, his possessive tone and the warmth radiating from him made it hard to resist.

nestling closer, you tilted your head to rest against his, savoring the comfort of his embrace. “you wore me out,” you added with a faint smile, giving in to the way his presence made you feel so anchored, so thoroughly his.

geto chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and reverberating against yours. he pulled you impossibly closer, his arms encircling you possessively.

“yeah, i know i did,” he replied, his voice taking on a proud, cocky edge. “but you were just too good to resist, weren’t you, baby?”

his fingers brushed against your cheek, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. he leaned in to nuzzle against your neck once more, his lips skimming over your skin, leaving a trail of hot, damp kisses down to your pulse point.

geto’s lips curved into a crooked smile, his chest rumbling with a low, satisfied chuckle. he pulled you a bit closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you— hard cock pressed against your stomach, holding you snugly against his firm, toned body.

“i’ll take that as a compliment, sweetheart,” he murmured into your hair, his voice taking on a cocky, self-assured tone. “i did work you pretty hard, didn’t i?” he chuckles, his hand trailing down your spine, fingers dancing over your skin.

you rolled your eyes with a soft hum, cupping his cheek as he continued nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing warm against your skin. “you act like you’re my boyfriend,” you murmured, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

geto chuckled at your remark, the sound deep and amused. he lifted his head to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

”oh, do i?” he teased, arching a brow at you in mock surprise. “is that what i’m acting like, huh? a doting, sappy boyfriend?”

he leaned in closer, pressing his mouth against your neck, again, his lips brushing against your pulse point as he nipped playfully. “guess i can’t help it, sweetheart. you bring out the boyfriend material in me.”

you let out an exaggerated tch, rolling your eyes as you gave him a playful shove. “ugh, you’re so cringe,” you muttered, a smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself. slipping out of his hold, you turned to make a break for the door, feigning an attempt to escape the teasing.

but before you could take another step, you felt his hand catch your wrist, and in one smooth motion, he pulled you back into his arms, holding you firmly against his chest.

geto laughed, a deep, hearty rumble, as you tried to escape his grasp. he wrapped an arm around your waist, effectively trapping you against his muscular frame. his other hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

his eyes glittered with a mix of mischief and something deeper, something darker and more primal.

“oh no, you’re not going anywhere,” he murmured with a grin, his arms locking around you as he leaned down, voice low and teasing. “besides, i haven’t even gotten to the sappy part yet.”

his arm tightened around you, pressing you firmly against him, the expanse of his chest against your back. his lips grazed your ear, his voice low and sultry. “you said i was acting like a boyfriend, sweetheart. aren’t you going to let me show you how good of a boyfriend i can be?”

geto’s hand slowly crept down to your hip, pulling your body flush against his. he let his hands roam, tracing down your body with a possessive, greedy touch, as if he was determined to map out every inch of you with his fingertips.

as his lips brushed against your ear, he continued, his voice dropping even lower as he teased you.

“see, sweetheart, i was planning on whispering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how cute and irresistible you are.” his teeth grazed your earlobe before he moved downward, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck.

his hands roamed over your body, tracing patterns on the exposed skin of your shoulders, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “but you had to go and try to escape, didn’t you?”

you let out a soft hum, leaning into his touch for a moment before slowly turning around in his arms, pressing your back against his chest. feeling his warmth behind you, you took a step forward, guiding him toward the door while he still held onto you, refusing to let go.

“oh, i wouldn’t dream of escaping now,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder with a sly smile. each step you took brought you both closer to the doorway, his arms wrapped securely around you, following your lead as if he couldn’t bear to let you slip away. “just seeing if you’d keep up,” you murmured, daring him to match you stride for stride.

the feeling of your body against his chest sent a ripple of electricity through geto, stirring something primal and dominant within him. he tightened his arms, drawing you closer against him as you led him toward the doorway.

“little tease,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your neck with a smirk. “you know i wouldn’t dream of letting you go. not after tonight.”

he willingly followed your lead, his muscular frame pressing against your back as he allowed you to guide him. his hands continued to explore your body, mapping out every curve and contour, as if he could never get enough.

you let out a playful groan, feigning annoyance at the grown man practically glued to your back. “ugh, you’re so annoying,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you reached for his bedroom door. with a little smirk, you stepped into the family room, feeling his weight still pressing against you.

“you really are acting like a boyfriend right now, you know that?” you teased, glancing back at him as he kept his arms wrapped around you, a mischievous spark in his eyes. though you tried to sound exasperated, there was no hiding the warmth in your voice, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as he held you close.

before geto could even get a word out, a familiar voice cut through the room. “wow, suguru, you couldn’t even bother to put on pants after your little... steamy session?”

both you and geto whipped your heads toward the source of the voice, only to see gojo standing there, an all-too-satisfied grin plastered on his face, phone in hand. he tilted the screen just enough for you both to catch a glimpse—it was a page open to geto’s live stream from earlier, replaying a snapshot of the two of you caught in the act— of course, he watched the streaming.

a flush crept up your cheeks as you turned to geto, whose expression had shifted from smug confidence to stunned surprise. gojo let out a low chuckle, clearly amused at having caught the two of you. “and here i thought i’d just come over to borrow some sugar,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as he held up the phone for emphasis. “but it seems like i’ve stumbled onto... way more than i bargained for,” he trails off, looking down to geto’s still-hard cock in view.

gojo, geto’s best friend, was no stranger to you. he practically lived at the apartment, often popping in even when geto wasn’t home, as if he had his own invisible key. he had a habit of making himself comfortable—raiding the fridge, stretching out on the couch, or pestering you with his endless teasing whenever he saw you.

now, he stood there with that infuriatingly smug grin, clearly enjoying the way he’d caught you both off-guard. he raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and geto, clearly savoring every second of your embarrassment.

geto only hummed, unfazed, as he resumed pressing lazy kisses along your neck, his lips warm against your skin, completely ignoring gojo’s presence. he knew all too well that gojo watched his streams—and this wasn’t the first time his best friend had conveniently found a reason to drop by. after all, gojo didn’t even live in the same building, and borrowing sugar was the last thing he’d come for.

“figured you’d show up sooner or later, satoru,” geto drawled between kisses, his tone amused and unbothered, hands still holding you close. “couldn’t resist seeing her up close, could you?”

gojo smirked, stepping closer. “guess i wanted to see if it was just as good in person,” he quipped, eyes flicking between the two of you, clearly entertained by the situation.

gojo’s smirk deepened as he observed the scene before him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. it was no surprise to find geto and you in a compromising position—he knew his friend all too well.

he approached, his casual gait exuding arrogance as he drew closer. geto, ever unbothered, continued to press his lips to your skin, his hands still holding you possessively, completely unruffled by his best friend’s presence.

“well,” gojo said with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “looks like i picked the right time to pop in.”

geto only hummed in response, his kisses still lingering on your neck, his tone aloof and cocky. “yeah, go figure,” he replied, not even bothering to look up. “always had a knack for perfect timing, don’t you?”

gojo chuckled again, his eyes roaming over the sight of you, half-naked and pressed up against geto’s bare chest, the silk robe doing little to hide the evidence of your earlier activities.

geto pulled back slightly, his arm still snug around your waist, fingers splayed possessively on your hip. he looked at gojo with a knowing smirk, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

“bet you enjoyed the show, didn’t you?” he teased, voice low and taunting as he raised an eyebrow at gojo.

gojo shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “what can i say?” he replied, a playful tone in his voice. “it was damn entertaining. gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he met geto’s gaze. “can’t help but appreciate a good performance, especially when it’s got the star of your stream in it.”

he took another step closer, his eyes flickering over your form, taking in every inch with a devilish grin. “and she didn’t disappoint, that’s for damn sure.”

his talk figures just a beat, loam over you, looking down with dangerous glint, eyes sparkling like a blue flame before his eyes drifting down over your form, lingering on the silk robe that did little to conceal the marks on your skin.

“i gotta say,” he added, shifting his gaze to geto, a hint of tease in his voice. “you really did a number on her, didn’t you, man?”

geto’s chuckle was low and satisfied, a hint of pride in the sound as his fingers flexed against your hip, feeling the soft silk under his touch. his gaze drifted down to you, lingering on the marks he’d left—a visual reminder of just how completely you’d been his. a cocky grin played at his lips as he spoke.

“yeah, i did,” he confirmed, his tone dripping with self-assurance. he met gojo’s gaze, a smirk quirking at the corners of his mouth. “hard not to with a doll like this, you know?”

he gave your ass a gentle squeeze after gentle smack, his gaze sweeping over you with open admiration before flicking back to gojo. “can’t blame me.”

his arm around your waist tightened slightly, his hand possessively gripping your hip, as if he was silently staking his claim over you.

goto’s gaze drifts behind, down your form, taking in the way the silk of the robe clings to your skin, revealing more than it conceals, lift the edge of the robe to show your pretty ass to the cold air. his eyes settle on the marks and bruises that litter your body, evidence of his own rough possession and passion.

he spread the cheeks just a little before his fingers finding its way to your puckering hole, now a bit loose from the earlier physical contact. the ministration earning a moan from you, without thinking, having you clutch to gojo’s shirt and geto’s arm.

you are whimpering, whining a complaint, still too sensitive from his rough intimacy. but geto just smirk, eyes finding gojo’s, “a little loose to save thousand,” he said.

#suki ☆ #geto x reader #geto smut #geto #geto x y/n #geto x you #anime smut #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru

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