#THE WHOLE GOING THROUGH THE AMUSEMENT PART

[chvoswxtch]

epilogue

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you and frank start a new chapter together.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, the world flooding from my tears bc this is the final chapter, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i'm not going to get emo in this section (there will be a separate post for that when i've processed my feelings about this ending), but i want to say again from the bottom of my heart to all of y'all, thank you. this is for you.

[previous chapter] | [series masterlist]

One year later.

Stepping through the familiar threshold, a light breeze enters behind you, bringing with it a crisp chill of autumn and the lingering smell of impending rain. There’s a soft clink when you toss your keys into the small emerald green ceramic bowl on the side table in the foyer. Slipping your long  gray wool coat off your shoulders, you can smell freshly brewed coffee wafting in the air, and there’s a murmur coming from the kitchen of two distinct voices you’d recognize anywhere.

A tiny smile graces your lips catching snippets of the conversation, and you shake your head with a light chuckle, hanging up your coat on the hook by the front door before making your way down the hallway adjacent to the spacious living room.

“This could be a huge bust. I mean, it’s five years worth of intel, and there’s a small window of opportunity here-“

Leaning against the entryway of the kitchen, you cross your arms over your chest and clear your throat.

“Dinah.”

Both heads of dark hair suddenly turn in your direction. Upon seeing you, Dinah straightens up, a fleeting expression on her face resembling that of a child getting caught doing something they’re not supposed to. Arching one of your brows, you barely suppress an amused smile that briefly tugs at the corner of your lips.

“My husband is retired.”

Dinah’s lips part to speak, and then she abruptly closes them. Her brown eyes flicker over towards Frank sitting across from her at the dining table, silently asking him for back up. Catching her eye, Frank gives a subtle shake of his head, bringing his mug of coffee up to his lips with one hand, and making a gesture of surrender with the other, attempting to hide his smirk.

“You heard the woman.”

Dinah gives him a pointed, exasperated look and purses her lips at his lack of cooperation.

“I’m just asking for a consult-“

“You got the whole goddamn CIA under your belt, ask one of them. You want a consult ‘bout a remodel, you let me know.”

Frank sets the mug of coffee down on the table, shrugging his broad shoulders covered in worn dark green flannel. Dinah faintly narrows her eyes at him, letting out a deep exhale through her nose. 

“Fine.”

As she stands, the chair scrapes against the hardwood, and she looks down at him in subtle defiance with an arch of her dark brow as she buttons the middle button on her navy blue blazer.

“I’m thinking about redoing my kitchen. Let me know when you’ve got time in that busy schedule of yours, Castle.”

A deep rumble of laughter sounds in Frank’s chest at the dripping sass in her voice, and his eyes crinkle in amusement as he gives her a faint nod.

“See what I can do.”

Shaking her head, she rolls her eyes and turns around to leave the kitchen, her heeled boots clicking against the hardwood floor. When she reaches you, she pauses and gives you a light smile, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently.

“Good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Hearing the front door open and shut, your eyes drift over towards Frank, narrowing your eyes with a look of faux accusation. Frank’s hand pauses midway in bringing his mug up to his lips, and his dark brows furrow as his face scrunches slightly. 

“What?”

Arching one of your dark brows, you bite back a smile as Frank sets the mug back down and leans back in the chair, the wood creaking under his weight, bunching up his shoulders and loosely gesturing with his large hands in a show of defense of his innocence.

“She called me-”

“Mhm.”

Frank pursed his lips in lighthearted annoyance, scrunching up his face adorably, and you finally broke. Your laughter filled the kitchen, and he shook his head and rolled his eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip before he turned to look at you again, his dark eyes wandering over your figure.

“You ever not gonna be a pain in my ass?”

“Nope.”

Grinning, you walked over towards where he was sitting, and a grin stretched across his own lips as he reached out immediately to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his lap to straddle him.

“S’pose I signed up for that, yeah?”

Frank nuzzled his large nose against your neck, and the coarse dark hair of his beard brushed against your skin, tickling and sending a shiver down your spine as you laughed.

“Legally.”

Leaning back slightly, you gazed at him adoringly, bringing your hand up to brush back some of the loose dark curls that were laying against his forehead, carding your fingers through his grown out hair. Your hand slowly slipped down his temple, caressing the full beard covering his cheeks and the lower half of his face, a smirk spreading across your lips.

“You know, this whole…hipster thing is really working for me.”

Frank blew out a puff of air through his lips, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in moderate annoyance. Pursing his full lips, he looked at you, his warm brown eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

“Yeah? Think I should go full man bun?”

A deep laugh escaped you at the dryness of his voice, shaking your head as you ran both of your hands through his soft hair from the thick roots down to the loose curls at the base of his neck. Leaning in, you brushed your lips against his gently.

“I like it just the way it is.”

Frank’s large hands splay against your back as he pulls you further against his firm chest, but before he can kiss you, suddenly you perk up and lean back.

“Oh! I have something for you.”

Patting his chest, you untangle yourself from Frank’s arms and get off his lap, slipping down the hall. Frank’s dark brows knit in confusion, glancing down at his lap where you just were and then flickering his gaze towards the entryway of the kitchen you’d just disappeared down, craning his neck as he listened to your footsteps.

“I’d rather have what you were just about to give me.”

Hearing his grumble from the kitchen, your laugh echoes from down the hall, and as you reappear in the kitchen, you can’t contain your grin seeing him sitting in the wooden chair and pouting like a petulant child. Shaking your head slowly, you resumed your position on his lap, placing a soft kiss to his large nose.

“Hey, the role of the impatient one in this relationship is already filled, thank you very much.”

“Has been since the beginning.”

Rolling your eyes at Frank’s sassy remark, you smile as you pull your hand out from behind your back, holding out a small velvet black box in your hand. Frank glances down at it, his face contorting in an expression of pure puzzlement. He glances between it, the ring on your finger, and the band on his own left hand before looking at you, arching one of his dark brows.

“You know we’re already married, right?”

“Just shut up and open it.”

Rolling his own eyes in return, Frank grabs the small box in one of his large hands, keeping one of his arms wrapped around your waist. Flipping it open with his thumb, you watch in amusement as the temperate confusion previously on his face shifts into pure convoluted perplexity. Frank stares down at the little T-shaped plastic device displayed upright in the slit of the velvet square.

“Oh…wow. That’s…this is…it’s a…really nice-“

Frank blinks a few times, eventually lifting his head to look at you in a mixture of apology and uncertainty.

“-sweetheart I got no idea what the hell this goddamn thing is.”

Letting out an amused laugh, your lips spread into a soft smile as you brush his curls back with your fingers. 

“My IUD.”

Frank blinks a few times, his face a blank canvas. There isn’t a shred of recognition in his eyes.

“My intrauterine device.”

His dark brows raise up his forehead slightly, glancing between the small plastic device and you, eyeing you curiously as he speaks hesitantly.

“And…you’re givin’ me this…because…?”

Realizing that Frank genuinely has no idea what the significance of the small thing he’s holding is, you decide to take mercy on him.

“Frank, it’s my birth control device.”

Frank’s rugged features are twisted up in confusion as he repeats your words slowly.

“Your…birth control…device?”

“Modern medicine has come a long way, big guy. Birth control isn’t just pills. It’s also that.”

When you point to the small box in his hand, his dark eyes flicker down between it, your patient gaze, and the tiny plastic device again.

“And it’s…in this box.”

You can see the gears turning in Frank’s head, piecing the new information together. Nodding, a smile leisurely spreads across your lips as you suppress your laughter.

“Which means it’s not inside of me.”

All of a sudden, it was like a light bulb went off, and you could see Frank’s eyes light up with understanding.

“Wait, you mean-“

Hearing the hesitant hope and excitement in his voice felt like a fist tightening around your heart, squeezing it in a vice. 

The idea was still new. Over the past year, you’d seen that desire steadily building in him. Whenever the two of you went somewhere, the sound of a child’s laughter would grasp his attention and hold it captive. At first, you thought the look in his eyes was lingering grief, reminiscing on that sound in his memory that had come from his own lost children once upon a time. 

But in the last few months, you’d come to realize that the emotion in his gaze wasn’t just nostalgia, it was also longing. You saw the way his eyes softened as he stood at the sink, watching the neighborhood kids playing in the street out the window, his eyes faintly crinkled as a tiny smile graced his lips when he didn’t think you were looking. All the kids in the neighborhood were drawn to him, and he was all too eager to fix a bike chain, or demonstrate a perfect football spiral.

The interactions granted you a glimpse of what Frank had been like as a father, and it sent a crack through your own chest that he’d been robbed of something he was so good at, something he should’ve had more time to do. You could see that it was something he wanted, but you could also see the hesitance. You didn’t know how to bring it up. Frank was happy, and he’d found a semblance of peace in this new life, but that void of loss would always be there. That pain would never truly go away.

You wanted Frank to know that it was okay, that it wasn’t wrong to want to try again. You wanted him to know that moving forward didn’t have to mean forgetting. You’d eased him into the idea of visiting the cemetery, something he hadn’t done in years, and you’d held his hand tightly as he placed three sets of flowers on the headstones, encouraging him to talk to them, to get out all the words he never got to say. 

You’d hung up the worn photograph of Maria and the kids he’d been carrying around for the last few years, the only one he had left, in the living room so he could see them everyday instead of hiding them away in his memory. You wanted Frank to know that they had a place in your shared home, that they were still a part of his new life, even if they weren’t physically here. That he could talk about them, share fond stories of them, and include them.

“We don’t have to start trying right away, but-”

“The hell we don’t.”

Frank grabbed your hips with renewed vigor and stood up, setting you down on the edge of the dining table he’d built himself. A bubble of surprised laughter erupted from you, but was quickly cut off by Frank’s lips as he kissed you deeply, slotting himself between your parted thighs as his calloused hands hiked your skirt upwards. When his thumbs hooked into the sides of your panties, brushing the pad along the skin of your hips, you shifted them upwards to assist him in slipping them down.

Your fingers swiftly sought out the buttons of his flannel, popping each of them with growing urgency, shoving the worn green fabric off his broad shoulders and down his arms. While you reached for his belt buckle, Frank untucked your blouse, tugging it up your waist and over your head, carelessly tossing it onto the hardwood. Your heels slipped off your feet, falling to the floor with a soft thud, and the sound of his zipper being undone echoed in the kitchen as Frank pushed his hips forward against your welcoming hand, cupping your breast and squeezing as his lips latched onto the juncture of your neck.

Feeling the blunt head of his cock nudging at your slick entrance, you pressed your palm against his firm, warm chest and panted breathlessly.

“Frank.”

Pulling his head back slightly, his warm brown eyes darted back and forth between your own, dropping to your lips before looking at you with hooded lids.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Letting out a soft breath, you brought your hand up to cup his bearded cheek, biting down on your bottom lip gently as you gazed into his eyes and spoke softly.

“If…if you’re not ready-”

Frank gave a faint shake of his head and dipped down to kiss you tenderly, murmuring against your lips.

“I’m ready.”

Pushing his hips forward, Frank filled you in one swift thrust, and your head dipped back as your mouth hung open, your eyes fluttering shut at the euphoric sensation of being so full. Frank let out a quiet grunt as your tight warmth enveloped him, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you firmly to his chest, slipping his other hand in your hair to cradle the back of your head as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, you grabbed onto the back of his neck, slipping your fingers into the loose dark curls as you brought your legs up to lock around his waist. Frank nuzzled your neck reverently, flexing his hips forward, thrusting in slow and deep strokes. Letting out a desperate moan, your lips brushed against Frank’s bearded cheek, seeking out his kiss, and he turned his head to capture your mouth passionately, gliding his tongue along the seam of your lips and seeking entry.

He swallowed every noise of pleasure you spilled into his mouth, sensually caressing your tongue with his own the same way his hands caressed your body in dedicated worship. The wooden table creaked as Frank pushed you to lay flat on your back, bending to press his chest flush to yours, grabbing your wrists gently to guide them upwards and pin them above your head. He interlaced his fingers with yours and squeezed your hands, pressing his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply down into your eyes, his warm breath caressing your lips as he panted.

“Frank-”

“I know.”

Your eyes fluttered shut and your back arched as he nuzzled his nose against your throat, trailing warm open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck, dripping praises and sweet nothings into your ear like honey. You gripped onto his large hands, using them as an anchor to his moment, tightening your legs around his waist to eliminate any space between you.

As your breathing got quicker and more shallow, and your moans grew in volume and pitch, Frank increased his pace in tandem, grunting into your ear. Feeling the tremble in your thighs and the contraction of your tight walls signaling your impending release, he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear.

“I love you.”

You never got tired of hearing those three words in his deep gravelly voice. All at once, they made you shatter into a million little pieces, and your body seized up as an intense wave of gratification crashed over you, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs. Your eyes rolled and you writhed beneath him as your prayer of his name echoed in the kitchen, repeating those same three words back to him over and over and over again.

Frank was right there behind you, his hips stuttering as his rhythm faltered, letting out a guttural groan and holding his hips still against your own as the seed of a new beginning was planted deep within you. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, both of you panting heavily as you clung to each other tightly. Frank felt a buzzing bliss spread throughout his body, reveling in keeping himself buried within your comforting snug warmth, but he also felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

Hope.

»»———　　———««

Laying in bed with the sheets draped over your naked figure, your head was propped up on your elbow, and you watched as Frank stood in front of the sink in the bathroom and brushed his teeth. Your eyes wandered over his body slowly, taking in his tan skin littered with various faded scars. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t known how many were still healing internally, but you could see it now. There was a lightness to him, in the way he carried himself now, brick by brick of trauma and grief slowly being lifted from his shoulders. 

Frank didn’t have nightmares anymore. Attending Curtis’ Veterans group had given him the space to divulge the things he didn’t know how to say to you. As hard as you tried, there were just certain things he’d been through you couldn’t fully understand to offer comfort, but they could. He still had his moody moments, and that familiar brooding expression would shroud his features, but it wasn’t as hardened as before. That impenetrable steel guard had been slowly dismantled over time, and now it was nonexistent. You knew that broken man was still in there, still healing from wounds you couldn’t see, and maybe he always would be. There would always be that jagged piece of him that had donned a bloodstained, bullet filled white skull and waged a one man war on a world that had taken everything from him, but the curvy edges were softening to fit somewhere. 

It was such an interesting dichotomy, that Frank could be so familiar to the stoic broody bodyguard you met two years ago and yet so different as the loving husband that built you a dining table with his bare hands on his day off because you couldn’t find one you liked.

Shutting out the light in the bathroom, Frank turned to walk into your shared bedroom, and he raised one of his dark brows when he caught you staring at him.

“What?”

Lifting your gaze from the tantalizing view of his gray sweatpants draped low across his bare hips, you looked up at him with a faint smirk, lifting one of your own brows.

“I can’t admire my husband?”

Frank’s lips always split into a goofy grin hearing you call him that. In two short strides, he was crawling onto the bed, climbing on top of you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he leaned down to nip at your bottom lip playfully.

“You keep lookin’ at me like that, you’re gonna be pregnant by sunrise.”

Letting out a soft laugh, you leaned up to brush your lips against his teasingly with a grin.

“Promise?”

Frank gave you a wide, tooth-bearing smile as he leaned in and captured your lips in a soft and sweet kiss, letting out a deep exhale of content through his nose. After a moment, he pulled back slowly, caressing your face tenderly with his knuckles before he brushed your hair back and cupped your cheek. For a minute, he just stared down at you, taking you in like it was the first time he’d ever seen you.

“Thank you.”

A soft furrow nestled between your brows, and you placed your hand on top of his gently.

“For what?”

“Givin’ me a second chance.”

Frank’s voice was so soft and quiet, full of genuine gratitude and admiration, and it tugged at your heartstrings. Gently grabbing your left hand, he gazed down at the ring on your finger, and slowly lifted your hand to press a soft kiss to it.

“I don’t…I don’t know how much of this I deserve, and I don’t know what I did to…to get here after…ya’know. I just…I wasn’t plannin’ on makin’ it this far, or makin’ it here ever. And I don’t know why you didn’t give up on me, God knows I gave you many reasons to, but you didn’t. And I…I don’t know if I've ever thanked you for that. I mean…all of this…I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

The vulnerable honesty in Frank’s voice had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You understood the deeper meaning behind his words. He didn’t just mean here in this bed with you. Frank hadn’t cared about living since the day he lost everything. Everyday that followed, he’d been prepared to join his family. From the day you first met him, and even the night everything went down with Billy, he had been ready. You couldn’t even bear to think about a world that Frank Castle didn’t exist in.

Frank gently brushed a stray tear away from your cheek that had slipped, gazing down at you with nothing but pure and honest adoration and commitment. To you, to your marriage, and to this next chapter of your life together. By some cosmic force or grace of a merciful deity, he’d been granted a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste a second of it. He was all in.

“Thank you, for all of it. For bein’ patient with me, seein’ me, puttin’ my ass in check when I need it.”

Both of you shared a small laugh, and Frank gently brushed the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Thank you for lovin’ me the way you do.”

Staring up into the warm brown eyes of this magnetic force of a man you were lucky enough to love, and to be loved by, you gently cupped his bearded cheek and brought him down for a reverent kiss, allowing your lips to linger before slowly opening your eyes to look at him, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

“It’s my job, baby.”

tags:@thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[anniebeemine]

I’d love to see dad Spencer finding out his teen daughter has a boyfriend and reader is just like “this is normal babe” and he’s just so that dad who doesn’t want his little girl to grow up

Spencer wasn’t sure when it had happened. One day, his daughter Eliza was running around the backyard, obsessed with dinosaurs and space, and the next, she was texting non-stop, staying up late on the phone, and hanging out with friends. She was growing up fast—too fast for his liking—and now, at sixteen, she’d hit him with something he was entirely unprepared for.

“So...I have a boyfriend,” Eliza said casually, looking down at her phone while sitting at the kitchen table.

Spencer nearly dropped his mug of coffee.

“What?” His voice came out sharper than he intended, and Eliza’s head snapped up to meet his wide-eyed stare. She bit her lip nervously, but her expression was mostly amused, like she had expected this kind of reaction.

“I said, I have a boyfriend, Dad,” she repeated, more slowly, as if that might make the shock easier to absorb. “His name’s Ethan, we’ve been texting for a couple weeks and...we’re going to a movie this weekend.”

Spencer felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. A boyfriend? His little girl had a boyfriend? This wasn’t supposed to happen, not yet. Not ever, if he had his way.

You, standing by the stove and flipping pancakes, glanced over at the scene unfolding. You were smiling softly, clearly not surprised by Eliza’s news, and you gave Spencer a knowing look as he struggled to find words.

Spencer had noticed the changes, of course. How could he not? Over the last few weeks, Eliza had been giggling at her phone more than usual, texting away with a grin that made him wonder what was so funny. She’d been asking to stay out an extra thirty minutes before he picked her up from her friend's house, her voice casual but always a little too hopeful. And then there was the way she was suddenly excited to go to school—something that used to take a lot more convincing, especially for early mornings.

But Spencer had brushed it off at the time, chalking it up to normal teenage behavior. Maybe she was just hanging out with her friends more. Maybe her classes had gotten more interesting. He hadn’t connected the dots.

Now, as she casually mentioned having a boyfriend, it hit him like a freight train.

He should have paid more attention.

He stood there, still holding his coffee, realizing that all those little signs had been pointing to this moment. The giggling, the extra time with her friends, the sudden enthusiasm for school—it all made sense now. Ethan.

“Eliza, when exactly did this start?” Spencer asked, trying to sound calm but knowing he wasn’t pulling it off.

Eliza shrugged, still scrolling through her phone. “A few weeks ago. It’s not that serious, Dad.”

Not that serious? His daughter had a boyfriend, and she was acting like it was just another Tuesday.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but you gave him a gentle nudge before he could start spiraling again. You’d been watching the whole thing unfold, a soft smile on your face as you watched your husband try to process this new chapter of parenthood.

“Spence,” you said gently, catching his attention, “it’s normal, you know.”

“Normal?” Spencer repeated, his voice incredulous as he turned to you. “Our daughter—our little girl—has a boyfriend, and that’s normal?”

You laughed softly, walking over to him and resting a hand on his arm. “Yes, it’s normal, babe. She’s a teenager. This was bound to happen at some point.”

“I wasn’t ready for this,” he mumbled, still staring at Eliza like she had just told him she was moving to another country. He thought back to all those little moments he hadn’t fully paid attention to—the way she’d been giggling at her phone, how she always seemed to be in a good mood after school. The puzzle pieces were coming together now.

Eliza, for her part, rolled her eyes but smiled, clearly amused by her dad’s overreaction. “Dad, relax. It’s not a big deal. Ethan’s nice.”

Spencer opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strangled, “Nice?”

You squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you meet him before jumping to any conclusions?”

Spencer was already shaking his head. “I don’t need to meet him. I know boys his age and they-"

“Spence,” you interrupted, shooting him a look. “Eliza’s smart. She’ll be fine. And besides, you trust her, right?”

Eliza gave him a hopeful smile. “Yeah, Dad. You trust me, don’t you?”

He hesitated. Of course, he trusted her—she was the most brilliant, thoughtful person he knew. But the idea of her being out there with a boyfriend, navigating relationships and the teenage world, it was overwhelming. She was still his little girl.

But he could see the way her eyes were watching him, waiting for his approval, and he couldn’t be the dad that held her back from growing up. With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake the tension out of his shoulders.

“I...I trust you, Eliza,” he said finally, though he still looked like he was struggling to come to terms with it. “But, uh...maybe I should meet this Ethan kid before your date.”

Eliza grinned, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Of course, Dad. I’ll make sure he’s ready for the interrogation.”

Spencer groaned, looking at you for support, and you just laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “See? Not so bad.”

“It feels bad,” Spencer muttered, though his heart was slowly warming to the idea. “Can’t she stay ten forever?”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Nope. But she’ll always be your little girl.”

And even though Spencer wasn’t entirely ready, he knew you were right. He watched Eliza happily texting away, already excited for her movie date, and couldn’t help but smile. He might not like it, but he’d be there to support her every step of the way, even if it meant meeting her first boyfriend with a million questions lined up.

Spencer nodded, though the reality was still sinking in. His little girl was no longer just the dinosaur-obsessed kid running through the backyard. She was becoming her own person, with her own life and experiences. And while he wasn’t quite ready for all the changes, he knew he’d be there for her, through every giggle and every milestone, even if it meant meeting Ethan and doing “the dad thing” with a nervous smile.

For now, though, he’d take a deep breath and try not to panic—too much.

[writingrock]

before he leaves [1]

pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.

notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable

Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 

“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 

Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.

It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”

“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.

“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 

“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”

You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.

He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”

You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.

“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Does he really have to go?

“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.

“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.

Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.

“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.

“I love you too,” he replies.

You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.

“Text me updates!”

“I will!”

“And when you’re on the plane—”

“I know!”

“And call me when you get to the hotel!”

“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.

Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 

Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.

You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.

You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.

As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.

Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 

“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 

He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 

For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 

He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.

You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.

He knows his hero partner will yell at him.

But how could he resist his beautiful wife?

You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.

“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.

“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.

What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.

“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.

“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.

“He’s going to kill you.”

Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.

Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.

He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 

Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.

“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 

You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 

“Eijiro.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.

Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.

You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.

Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 

Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 

You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.

“Five more minutes.” 

Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.

But this is also the very late pro-hero.

“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.

He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.

The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.

“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.

You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.

He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.

He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.

“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”

Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.

Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”

His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.

Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”

Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.

“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.

You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.

Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.

“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 

“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”

It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 

You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.

As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.

His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”

He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.

You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.

Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.

Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 

a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

[toruily1]

jerking megumi off.

0.8k

MDNI

standing behind megumi, completely bare from the tips of your toes up to your flushed red neck, letting him guide your hand up and down his cock, teaching you how to please him the way he likes.

he's equally as red, his whole body burning up from embarrassment at the thought of someone seeing him in such a state. if it was anyone else, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea.

but its you, and he'd do anything for you.

so when you came to him with wide eyes and a shaky voice, asking him if he’d teach you to get him off he couldn’t help but say yes, his cock stirring in his pants at the thought of your hand on him, squeezing and—

“a little tighter” he mumbles squeezing your hand. “you’re not gonna hurt me”

you stand on your tippy toes, looking over his shoulder as you tighten the grip you have on him, moving your hand up and down his length.

from this angle you can see everything. from his abs down to his V line and the thatch of black hair that leads towards his heavy cock, sitting firmly in the palm of your hand.

“w-what else?” you question, and the corners of megumi's lips tug up into a small grin at how you sound even more

you chose to ignore the amusement you hear in his tone when he replies, “use your thumb and play with the tip— it’s sensitive”

you can see his fat purplish tip and the string of his sticky white pre that drips from the tip.

at that, your thumb comes up and begins rubbing at the head, smearing the sticky pre down the length of his shaft. megumi sucks in a breath and for a second you think you’ve done something wrong— hurt him somehow and you’re about to let go, but when your eyes flick up towards his face you realize it’s anything but.

you can tell he's into it now, his eyes are hooded, lips parted slightly as moans out for you.

“yeah baby fuckkk— just like that,” he groans, letting his head fall back to lean on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets you take the reins. the hand on top of yours falls to his side, as you pick up the pace, hand squeezing him just a little tighter.

your thumb moves away from his tip, wanting to take your time, knowing that wasn’t something you could do if he came too fast and from how loud he was getting it was clear he was getting close. he lets out a shudder as the intense pleasure begins to fade slightly, breathing slowing down.

it doesn’t take you long to find a steady pace, hand jerking up and down, every so often applying pressure to his tip that leaves him groaning as bursts of pleasure shoots through him.

he’s practicing leaking pre, leaving your hand sticky with his arousal, making the glide of your hand easier.

after megumi gets his breathing back to normal he takes your hand in his once again.

“I like to have my balls played with.”

his hand guides your further down to his sac and you instantly take it into your hand, squeezing and toying with each of his heavy balls.

megumi moans, his body tensing as he attempts to hold himself back, not wanting to cum too soon. It was a futile attempt, especially with you standing so close to him, your scent radiating off of you and clouding his senses.

the feeling of your body pressed against his, your hard nipples rubbing against his back as you squeeze your legs together, desperately searching for friction to your aching clit as you watch megumi get closer and closer to the edge.

the sounds he's making going straight to your core.

megumi reaches behind him, pushing your legs apart just enough to allow his hand to slip through, calloused fingers instantly finding your sticky clit.

“mmm megu'—” you whine, legs bucking beneath you as he rubs your clit. you don’t even realize your hand has stopped moving, simply holding him in your hand.

“keep goin” he commands, bucking up into your hand and you instantly start to stroke his length once again, going back up to focus on the tip.

“m’close” he murmurs quietly, you feel his dick twitch in your hand. the hand playing with his balls squeeze just a bit tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to have him letting out a long groan, deep and broken when it’s paired with a squeeze to his tip.

“shitttt” that’s all the warning you get before megumi is going rigid against you as thick spurts of cum shoot from his tip, landing on the floor in front of him. your hand continues to stroke him through his orgasm, moving up and down slowly until his hand wraps itself around your wrist, stopping your movements.

[inawickedlittletown]

Just Let Me Adore You (BuckTommy) - 1/4

Summary: What if…instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role.

Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2

Words: 3.6k

Notes: Title from Adore You by Harry Styles

Read on Ao3

-

Part One

-

“Tommy! Hey, man, what are you doing here?” Chim called out. 

Buck followed his line of sight. He didn’t know the man standing up on the loft, hands resting on the railing, already in uniform. He also didn’t understand why Bobby was coming up behind him still in jeans and a button down. Neither of them said a word, but the guy — Tommy — offered them a nod. 

“Hey, who is that?” Buck asked as he and Chim made it into the locker room. 

“Tommy? He used to work here, transferred to the 217 a few years ago right before you started. Come to think of it, I guess you replaced him,” Chim said. 

“And now he’s back?” 

Chim shrugged his shoulders and Buck settled for getting out of his street clothes and into his uniform quickly. Eddie ran in looking confused too. After the week they’d had they had all been looking forward to things going back to normal. No heists, no police raiding their homes, and no more questions from detectives. 

They made it up just in time to join Hen and a few of the others. Bobby had them gather around the table with Tommy standing somewhere behind him. It seemed it was more than just Chim that knew him going by the fist bumps and high fives and nods and smiles exchanged. Buck couldn’t keep his eyes from straying towards Tommy because there was something so absolutely captivating and Buck couldn’t put his finger on it other than to acknowledge that yes Tommy was one of the most beautiful men that Buck had ever seen. 

And then, Bobby told them he was being investigated. He was suspended pending the investigation and Tommy Kinard was taking over as Captain for the time being. Bobby seemed resigned more than anything and behind him Tommy just stood silently as they all tried to argue that Bobby shouldn’t be investigated for something he’d more than atoned for. Buck was the one that walked Bobby out to his car. 

“It’s okay, Buck,” Bobby said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if this is the way it goes this is the way it goes.” 

“Is there anything I can do? Anything any of us can do?” 

Bobby smiled at him. He pat his shoulder. “Not at the moment. Just gotta wait and see.” 

“How are you this calm?” 

“I always knew it was a possibility. You should get back in there. New Captain and all.” 

Buck grabbed Bobby’s arm. “Wait, who is that guy?” 

“Tommy? He’s good people. It was going to be Chim, but Tommy was available and the Chief decided Tommy could do it. Not permanently—”

“Because you’ll be back in no time,” Buck said. 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “We don’t know that. For now he’s your Captain, don’t make things any harder than they need to be.” 

“Sure. Sure.” 

“I mean it, Buck.” 

He headed back in and found Chim, Hen, Eddie, and their new interim Captain in the kitchen. 

His eyes found Tommy and it was hard to look away, especially when he was smiling. His teeth were just so white and the skin on the edges of his eyes crinkled. His jaw was defined, sharp as can be and his chin had a cleft. He was captivating. 

“Buck, come over here and meet Tommy,” Chim called out, motioning for him. “Tommy, this is Buck.” 

“Buckley,” Tommy said. “Your name isn’t Buck Buckley is it?” 

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. Buck was struck by Tommy’s gaze. His eyes were blue and piercing, it was as if he were looking right through Buck to his very soul. 

“Uh, Evan,” Buck said. 

“Evan,” Tommy said and he said it like it was important, like Buck was important.

—

Tommy wasn’t happy about the placement. It felt like a punishment, especially for someone like him. Of course, it was better than the alternative. He was grounded. No flying for him. Captain Reid had given him a choice and as dumb as the whole situation was, he supposed that being at the 118 as acting Captain was better than having to sit out on air support calls at the 217 and watching everyone else get to climb into the helicopters and go up leaving him to respond with the ground crew. He’d see the judgment from some and the pity from others. So, no thank you. 

Of course, going back to the 118 meant that he’d be facing his past and that…well, that could go wrong if Tommy let it. 

The timing had just happened to work out and though Tommy wasn’t privy to why Captain Nash was getting investigated, he just knew that it would blow over. There was no way they had anything on him that would lose the man his job. The short time that Tommy had worked with him, he’d been impressed and if it hadn’t been for the opportunity to get back in the air, he would have stuck around. Maybe he would have even managed to tell them all the truth. Or maybe, he never would have built up the nerve. 

The moment he stepped into the 118 again it felt like going back in time. His bag was slung over his shoulder as he walked past the trucks and he found Captain Nash regarding the trucks. He looked mostly resigned. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Tommy said. “Can I ask what happened?” 

“I wanted to tell them myself. It’s my past catching up with me. I always knew it could be a possibility,” Bobby said. “I’m sure you heard about the bank heist we almost got framed for?” 

Tommy chuckled, bemused. “What? No. I didn’t.”

He’d been a little too busy dealing with his own shit to pay attention to something like that. 

Bobby chuckled in response. “It was a long week,” he said.

“The Chief didn’t say much,” Tommy said. 

“Well, we had a call to a bank and afterwards money and diamonds were missing. Someone put the cash on the truck, so they looked into all of us pretty deeply. They found stuff about my transfer and here we are.” 

“I’m sure this will all get cleared up,” Tommy said. “There have been worse people that managed to keep their jobs in the LAFD.” 

He could tell that Bobby wasn’t convinced as he walked past him to the familiar locker room. Tommy had loved this place once, had thought that he’d found where he belonged. Of course, it had also meant compromising who he really was. He’d been so deep in that closet, but it was entirely about self-preservation. Leaving the 118 as much as it had been about flying, had been about being ready to embrace who he was. It had been about telling the truth. 

Returning to the 118 felt like falling backwards. Back into the lies. Back into the closet. Back into the mindset that he had to build up a wall to keep himself safe. Except that…he could choose differently. He didn’t need to lie. He was the Captain, they didn’t need to know anything about his personal life. If they asked, Tommy wouldn’t lie. He wasn’t going backwards. 

He met back up with Bobby at the loft. It still looked the same as when he’d left. 

“Circumstances aside, how do you feel about being back here?” Bobby asked. “I know this wasn’t your first choice.” 

“It was my only choice,” Tommy said. “I’m excited to work with Chimney and Hen again. Timing worked out, I guess. Who would they have gotten the position otherwise?” 

“Chim,” Bobby said. “But once the Chief mentioned you might be up for it, I figured that worked just as well. You know this house and you know the job.” 

Tommy ducked his head. “And I’m rooting for you to be back as soon as possible,” Tommy added. 

“There’s that, too.” 

“Chim would have made a good Captain,” Tommy said. 

“Yes. I just don’t think he would have liked it.” 

He could tell that Bobby hadn’t been told why Tommy was available, and Tommy didn’t offer the information. He wondered if Bobby would be alright with him taking his spot if he knew? Somehow, he did think that Bobby would be on his side. Hell, even Captain Reid was on his side even if his hands were tied. He thought that Bobby was about to ask, but Bobby was too professional to ask even if he did look curious. 

Bobby took him through a few things back in his office — the office Tommy would be taking over. He was warned about the paperwork, but Tommy already did more than his share of paperwork back at the 217. 

It had never been a goal of his to make it to Captain. He wondered if giving Sal a call as the acting Captain of the 118 might be warranted. He’d wanted it so badly back then and now it was Tommy in the position even if temporary. Sal might get a laugh out of that. He could send Gerrard a postcard too with just two words on it “Fuck-You”. Tommy never said he couldn’t be petty. All things considered, it was nice to think of doing things like that, but Tommy wouldn’t. He and Sal had lost touch a while back a little bit on purpose and Tommy hoped to never have to see Gerrard ever again. 

By the time that they heard the A-shift getting in, Tommy was as prepared as could be. He wouldn’t live up to what Bobby was as a Captain, but he would try his best and rely on having good people working under him. If nothing else, Tommy had time and experience on his hands and he was a damn good firefighter. A pilot too. 

What Tommy was not expecting was the gorgeous man walking in with Howie. So maybe, it’d be a little more complicated than he’d expected. 

-

So maybe he checked out a guy every once in a while. Buck was appreciative of the human form and sometimes those forms were male. It was normal. Completely and absolutely normal and everyone did that right? He had never really thought about it, but could easily admit to himself that Tommy Kinard was a beautiful man. 

Throughout that first shift with Captain Kinard in command, Buck might have let his eyes linger on the man more than should be normal, he just couldn’t help himself. It didn’t help that Tommy was competent too. No one could ever replace Bobby, but he could admit that Tommy knew what he was doing. Within a few calls, he seemed to know who worked well together and who did what best. He was creative, too, and open to suggestions. 

The one weird thing was that Tommy insisted on calling him Evan. Not in a condescending way or anything, but just because that’s the name that he felt like using. Stranger still was how much Buck liked it, it was why he didn’t correct him, not even when Chim made a face at him.

“Evan, get the jaws,” Tommy ordered. “Hen, how’s it looking in there?” 

The car accident wasn’t major, luckily. The girl inside couldn’t have been more than seventeen and she’d been panicking ever since the shock wore off. 

Buck returned with the jaws just in time to see Tommy lean to speak to the girl from the passenger side. His voice was calm and reassuring. It was so smooth and was it bad that Buck wanted to just listen to him speak forever? Could he narrate every book that Buck wanted to read? Or start a podcast? 

“Buck, what’s the hold up?” Hen asked. 

He blinked and rushed forward. “Sorry.” 

He thought he saw Tommy quirk an eyebrow. 

With help from Eddie, he got the door open and removed. Hen did a more thorough check up and Tommy stayed nearby. The girl seemed awed by him and Buck didn’t blame her one bit. 

A couple rushed towards them, escorted by Athena. 

“Amelia!” the woman shouted.

“Parents,” Athena said. Before any of them could move, Tommy got to them. 

“Your daughter is fine,” Tommy told them. “Just give my paramedic time to check her over. We don’t even think she’ll need to go to the hospital.”

On their way back to the station, they started discussing their dinner options. Buck was sure that if a few of them — not Eddie — got into the kitchen they could come up with enough edible food. Nothing on par with Bobby’s cooking but edible, Buck had picked up enough over the years. Tommy didn’t seem to trust that. 

“Maybe we’ll attempt that another day,” Tommy said to Evan.  

“Pizza it is,” Chim said. “You know, Cap is the one usually doing the cooking. You don’t want to give it whirl, Tommy?” 

Tommy laughed. Hen joined in. 

“If you want to get food poisoning.” 

“You can’t cook?” Buck asked. “Can’t be worse than Eddie.” 

“Hey, I can microwave stuff,” Eddie said. 

They all burst into laughter. 

When they got back to the station, Buck somehow found himself on his own with Tommy. Chim had been tasked with ordering the food and Hen had gone with him to make sure he got it right. Eddie was already on the phone with Shannon which was the norm for him since they’d reconnected. Buck thought that Eddie was looking a lot happier, as complicated as it all seemed to be. 

“How do you think I’m doing on my first day?” 

“Uh…you want my opinion?” Buck asked. “I’m…I mean you’re doing good. You cl-clearly know what you’re doing.” 

Tommy stared at him and then gave a nod. “Thanks, Evan.” 

Buck didn’t want him to walk away. He still knew very little about Tommy. Just that he’d transferred out of the 118 right before Buck arrived as a probie and now he was back to his old house. He’d also been a firefighter longer than any of them, going by how he’d talked about Chim’s first day as a probie. 

“Hey, so how come you left the 118?” Buck asked. 

“It was time. And I wanted to get back in the air,” Tommy said. 

Buck lost a step, but caught up to Tommy’s strides. “Wait, the air? So you’re air support? Like planes? Or helicopters?” 

“Both. But mostly helicopters,” Tommy confirmed. 

It only made Tommy that much hotter. And wait…since when did Buck think that men were hot? Maybe not like in general, but Tommy was…if you had eyes there was no way to miss that he was hot. 

“You were the one Chim called that time at that fire. Saved Eddie’s life…well, Eddie and the kid he was rescuing.” 

“Yeah,” Tommy said with a chuckle. 

“That’s really cool. So why — why give that up to come and boss us around?” 

At that, Tommy lost the smile. The crinkles around his eyes went away, replaced by frown lines on his forehead. 

“I should go fill out some reports,” Tommy said and walked away. 

“Touchy subject, I guess,” Buck said and watched as Tommy walked away from him, unable to tear his eyes from his back and yes, maybe checking him out just a little. Was it his fault that Tommy’s ass filled out his uniform really well? 

—

They really were a family. It wasn’t shocking to him, but it still left him feeling more than a little jealous because this is the thing that Tommy had always wanted. He’d thought he would find it in the Army and then he thought he would find that as a firefighter, and then his expectations had been lower when he transferred to Harbor and as much as he liked it there, it wasn’t a family. They were co-workers and some were friendlier than others, but it was nothing like whatever was happening at the 118. 

He watched them banter throughout the day, and as welcoming as they were, he didn’t quite fit. They had inside jokes and a way of communicating that made their work quick and efficient. Tommy wasn’t supposed to be their friend, that kept him outside of it too. He didn’t know how Bobby had managed to balance it all. 

“Tommy, you joining us?” Hen asked. “You know we all eat together around here.” 

Tommy let out a breath. “I’ll be right there.” 

“How are you holding up?” Hen asked, always perceptive. “Being the Captain?” 

“I have a good team. It’s not too bad,” Tommy said. “Different, I guess. I haven’t been on this many ground calls in a while.” 

She asked him about Harbor and as long as Tommy didn’t have to talk about the events of a week ago, he could discuss it. He could see Evan and Eddie listening in, but other than Chim, no one chimed in. 

After dinner they had a call out to an attempted suicide. He stood back and watched as Hen and Chim worked to get the guy out of the car he’d landed on after jumping off a building. His gaze then found Evan. 

Evan who was helping with the gurney and talking to the owner of the car. Evan who was capable and well meaning and who had been his replacement when he transferred. It would have been easier if Evan was less interesting and less adorable. He was straight, though, and there had been mention of a girlfriend. Tommy had crushed on enough straight guys to know how it went, but there was just something about Evan. Maybe it was the happy-go-lucky attitude, or how confident he was out on calls. Or maybe it was just how good he looked while wearing turnouts. 

By the time their shift ended, Tommy had been cajoled into joining them out for a drink. Eddie turned them down because he had a date with his wife. He almost expected Evan to excuse himself too in favor of spending time with his girlfriend, but instead he was happy to have an excuse not to go home. 

“You don’t have a home,” Chim said. 

Tommy looked between them. 

“Just because I’m staying with Maddie, doesn’t mean I don’t have a home,” Evan threw back. Turning to Tommy, he said, “I’ve started searching for my own place. It’s just hard.” 

Hen didn’t comment, but she shook her head and pat Evan’s arm. Tommy found all of it curious. 

At the bar, Tommy found himself in the booth with Evan to his left and as the night went on he felt like Evan had gotten closer and closer to him. He didn’t mind, liked the line of his warmth, and liked how every time Evan moved, he brushed up against him. It was dangerous, though, and Tommy couldn’t let this infatuation grow. 

“So, Tommy, you seeing anyone?” Hen asked. 

Tommy shook his head. “Not at the moment,” he said and this was his moment. It was presented to him perfectly. He just needed to say it. 

It was the time to tell them he dated men and that to be entirely clear they were first dates or hookups because Tommy was not luckily enough to find someone that wanted something deeper with him. Everytime he tried…well, Tommy just wasn’t lucky enough to find someone that fit. 

On apps they were all interested because of what he looked like and then he took the time to set up a date and then he was disappointed because those guys wanted to sleep with him and weren’t actually interested in getting to know him. Half the time they didn’t even want to go on a date as much as meet up for a romp in the sheets. The same thing happened at bars. He’d be approached, sure, but nothing ever actually went anywhere. Tommy was actually getting sick of trying. 

“Really?” Evan said. “But you’re so…I mean, who wouldn’t want to date you.” 

And then, Evan reached over and felt up his arm. His fingers lingered and Tommy glanced down at Evan’s hand and then back at Evan. Evan went pink and he dropped his hand to his lap as if he’d had no control over his hand. He coughed. 

“Sorry.” 

“That’s precisely why,” Tommy said. “Seems all anyone sees is the muscles.” 

“Their loss,” Evan said, staring at him. “You are definitely more than just brawn.” 

When he met Hen’s eyes, she looked like she was squinting at him. Tommy decided it was time he get their next round. He was surprised when Evan bumped his shoulder a moment later. 

“Wanted to help you carry,” Evan said, but he looked like it was actually more than that. 

“What is it, Evan?” 

Evan shifted on his feet. “I just…I wanted to say that I get it. Not, uh, not being seen for more than one aspect of who you are. I only met you today and I’m…I mean, you’re impressive.” 

“Impressive, huh?” Tommy asked, looking at him, askance. 

Evan was…was he blushing? Because the pink on his cheeks was definitely more than a result of the beers he’d drunk. 

“You fly helicopters,” Evan responded and seemed on the verge of listing other things, except the bartender arrived with the four beers he’d asked for. 

Tommy could have carried them on his own, but he let Evan grab two of them. When they got back in the booth, he tried to keep some space between them, but it didn’t matter for long. 

“Buck, you haven’t talked about Ali lately,” Hen said and it felt pointed even if Hen wasn’t looking at him. 

Evan leaned back. “She’s in Seattle for a few days,” he informed them. “Not much to say when I haven’t seen her in a while.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

Looking at Evan, Tommy couldn’t tell if that bothered him or not. He did see Hen and Chim share a look that Evan missed. Was there a story there? If there was, no one was willing to tell him.

[spiribia]

re: that animatic, the synopsis for my early teen OCs was roughly as follows

- world where most children are sent from a very young age to an institution to be trained to be soldiers (I did zero meaningful worldbuilding work in this space). The academy fosters a highly competitive environment where many of the children injure or eliminate one another in wars of dominance, cohering into pack structures through alliances. This is allowed to happen because it 'weeds out the weak ones.'

- protagonist, atriel, was infamous for her ruthlessness. She co-headed a pack with her boyfriend. During one raid, she murdered the nigh-pacifist brother of a nigh-pacifist peer named Helen.

- Helen retaliated by ambushing Atriel and stabbing out her eye

- In an unrelated incident of violence enacted in revenge for one of atriel's numerous prior actions, atriel's entire pack was wiped out. The only survivor, she laid low and went into hiding. which she found incredibly debasing, but became too much of a coward by her understanding to do anything about

- for a few years, the only person atriel was in contact with was lex, another packless 'loner' by choice (considered formidable and left alone by the others)

- atriel is contacted by helen. Helen extends an invite to join her party on a mission after the academy-wide urban legend of a circle in the woods where 6 individuals could invoke otherworldly power into their bodies. This is rumored to be incredibly risky, dubiously true, and involves running away from the academy, which would brand them as defectors.

- atriel refuses to join at first, especially considering the person who is hosting this business probably hates her guts, but lex, who was also invited, sways atriel on board with the proposal of individual power and the assertion that atriel's relevance and standing in the academy is already forfeit from her years of hiding herself away, anyway. The only way she can redeem herself in the eyes of the academy, she thinks, is to return a hero with legendary power.

- the teens steal a bus and go out on a long road trip. Helen and Atriel get along civilly, though initially Atriel finds the whole business of being under Helen's leadership incredibly humiliating (she considers Helen and her motley pack too soft. Lex agrees, but considers them a means to an end), which Helen registers and derives amusement from

- Atriel begins to realize how much of the world actually exists outside of the academy. one sunset, the kids see immense fish swimming across the sky over their bus

- the kids invoke the divine and each inherit a part of its body into their bodies. Atriel becomes the thing's claws, and gains access to powerful telekinetic slashes. Lex becomes the thing's brain, and gains a kind of future and past and interdimensional vision, though the brain-wielder always ends up dying in the myth's histories, because the human body cannot handle it. Helen becomes the thing's heart. She can't discern any abilities from this, to her disappointment.

- Lex's strength rapidly wanes from being the brain, and she passes away. In her last days, she muses that she has gone soft. The kids hold a makeshift funeral for her.

- because the ritual was not closed off properly, a threatening surfeit of magic accumulates to point of eruption. Helen realizes her power as the heart is to cycle magic through her body. Therefore, she can absorb this surfeit, but will probably die. She bids the rest of the crew to escape in the bus as far as they can go. Atriel is surprised to find that she is incredibly distressed at the prospect of Helen dying, and the other kids have to hold her back from stopping it.

- the de facto leader of what remains as the bus drives away, Atriel decides she won't be going home at all, and she and the remaining kids continue down the road into the unknown

[demonologistfucker]

Hey… hey…. Hoyo…. You didn’t have to gut me this hard with Aventurine

[thespineoftherighteous]

whenever the foxes go out to eat together they tell the waitress that it's Kevin's birthday because Dan wants free dessert. every single time.

[papercorgiworld]

“I dare you to steal his clothes.”

Mattheo, Enzo, Blaise and Theo

Luna dares you to steal his clothes while he’s showering. I mean what can possibly go wrong… *wink wink*

Warning: smut, making out and the guys are fully naked

Mattheo and Theo picture source: https://pin.it/4GWiiih

I’m back with more low quality, cheap smut. Feedback is rewarded with my love, like even a small typo, just please let me know.

I wrote a part 2 for Mattheo and Theo: The day after the dare. Also wrote “I dare you to steal his clothes” for Draco and Tom.

You were sitting in the slytherin common room. It was late and the party was dying down but your friends refused to go to their dorms.

“Truth or dare?” Luna asks as she tries to focus on you but she’s clearly too drunk to manage that.

“Dare.”

Luna tries to get her brain to come up with a good dare, something fun. It is then that she sees a certain slytherin holding a towel and heading for the bathroom.

Mattheo Riddle

“I dare you to steal Mattheo’s clothes while he’s showering.” You groan, you preferred to stay as far away from him as possible, but then again if you were sneaky enough he would probably never figure out it was you.

You had managed to sneak in without making any noise. You were relieved there was only one person in the bathroom. You tiptoed towards the pile of clothing and just as you were reaching for it you noticed that the water had stopped running.

“Accio.” Is all you heard before being pulled backwards straight into Mattheo. His strong arms immediately wrapped around you and pushed you against his still wet body.

“You were dared to do this, weren’t you?” Mattheo whispers in your ears, his voice is calm and amused. You swallow and lick your lips in an attempt to calm yourself. “Yes.” You murmur as you try to wiggle your way out of his arms, but he just tightens his grip more. The water droplets on his body are sinking into the fabric of your shirt.

You sigh. “Just let me go. And like, lend me your tie or something so they know I tried. I don’t want them to think I chickened out.” Mattheo leans in closer to your neck, his warm breath on your skin makes your whole body heat up. “Riddle.” You wanna complain but it comes out desperate.

“I have a better idea.” Mattheo says right before he spins you around. Your back clashes with a wall as he pushes you against it with his whole body. His amused smirk gives you mixed feelings of worry and desire. “Just the tie is fine.” You protest as his face inches towards you. You fear that if Mattheo actually kisses you, you will lose all sanity and he will have you begging in no time.

You can feel his hardening member between your legs. A not so subtle reminder that he’s naked. Mattheo’s hand lingers on your leg gently making his way up under your skirt. Your body tenses under his touch. “You can always leave. Or you can stay and maybe I’ll let you walk away with my clothes.”

As you consider your options he watches your face and slowly leans into you, his pleased grin never faltering. After a moment of quiet sexual tension Mattheo grabs your ass and lifts you up without warning. A soft noise leaves your lips and Mattheo sees your parted lips as an open invitation. His mouth is on yours and his tongue immediately starts exploring.

His hard cock teases your pussy through your panties. Out of desperation you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, searching for more sensation. He breaks the kiss and admires your flustered face. “Look at you. Always acting like you're better than me and now I’ll have you calling me daddy in no time.” His arrogance turns you on as much as it infuriates you.

Mattheo grabs your chin to angle your face right, leaving your neck exposed. He starts kissing and nibbling at your sensitive spot, while his hips rock into yours. Your fingers entangle in his beautiful dark curls but only for a moment. You are not an easy prey.

You tugg his hair so he pulls away from your neck. “Not happening, Riddle.” His arrogant smug face starts cracking and he clenches his jaw. “You’re pretty entertaining, but I’ll not be calling you daddy.” You say trying to sound brave while you unwrap your legs. With dark eyes he lets you slip out of his hands so you land on your feet. “No tie for you, you’ll fail your dare.” You smile at his attempt to persuade you.

“Don’t worry about me Riddle, worry about the little fella between your legs.” You take a step and reluctantly he lets you walk away. Now that there’s some distance between you two your eyes fall on his hard thick member and you bite your lip, slightly impressed by his size. When you’re near the door Mattheo can’t help but try one more time. “My roommates are going to be out for a few more hours, just so you know, in case you change your mind.” You lick your lips as you're holding the door. “Sorry pretty boy, it’s going to be you and your hand tonight.”

As you close the door behind you Mattheo looks around clearly frustrated that he got played like this. An annoyed huff leaves his lips. You had already caught his eye but now you were definitely on his radar. He urgently needs another shower to cool down.

Meanwhile you walked back to your friends still shaking from all the things Mattheo had you feeling. When they see you walk in they stop talking and stare. “Yeah, it didn’t go as planned.” You say with a soft voice and a flustered face. Suddenly Luna points, clearly still out of it. “Is that a hickey?” Your eyes widen as your hand covers your neck. “Oh. My. God.” Pansy’s dramatic voice draws even more attention, while Hermoine eyes show flashes of pure panic.

Enzo Berkshire

“I dare you to steal Lorenzo’s clothes while he’s showering.” Your eyes widen and you blush. You wondered if Luna dared you to do this because she had somehow figured out you had a crush on the Slytherin.

Either way you were currently standing in front of the bathroom door. You quietly open the door and tiptoe inside, while scanning for his clothes. However, Enzo already noticed you before you managed to spot his clothes. “Did they dare you to join me in the shower? Because you are more than welcome, darling.” You turn around with red cheeks and see Enzo with a bright smirk.

But honestly your eyes don’t linger on his face for very long. They immediately drop down to his very naked body and his dick. “Enjoying the show?” He asks and you quickly turn around. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice.” You stammer, making Enzo chuckle. “If you stare for as long as you did, you’ve definitely noticed everything.” He emphasizes the last word. “I was dared to steal your clothes.” You confess, hoping he won’t think you’re some pervy girl.

“That’s just boring. I dare you to join me for a shower, I will help you wash.” You feel your whole body heat up. “You can’t just dare me, I can still pick ‘truth’.” You hear him walk towards you, but you don’t dare to turn around assuming he’s still naked. “You’re right. So, truth then: did you like what you saw?” Your mouth falls open and suddenly you feel his breath on your neck. His eyes carefully watching your red face.

“You are unbelievable!” You try and take a step to put some distance between you two, but he wraps his arm around you. “Unbelievably hot? Handsome? Long? Big?” He teases you while his face nestles in his hair. “You know if you’re not going to tell me then you’re going to have to shower with me.”

***

“So strange, it’s been an hour and (y/n) still hasn’t come back.” Luna asks with a very confused tone. Hermoine smiles, having her suspicions. “Maybe she just got a little distracted while trying to steal Lorenzo’s clothes.”

Blaise Zabini

“I dare you to steal Zabini’s clothes while he’s showering.” You swallow. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Convincing drunk Luna was impossible. So here you were sneaking around in the Slytherin boys bathroom gathering Blaise’s scattered clothes like some weirdo. You had finally collected every piece and tiptoed your way to the door. However, you were still only halfway when you were spotted.

“Hey, hey, what do you think you’re doing, little smooth criminal?” You hear Zabini shout as you're holding all of his clothes. “Nothing.” You instinctively answer. He wants to say something but is distracted when he sees your eyes scan down his body. “Princes, my eyes are up here.” You let out a nervous laugh as you glue your eyes to his. It has never been so difficult to not look at something.

You don’t dare to take your eyes off his face as he walks towards you. When he stops right in front of you you feel like you’re turning into pudding. He slowly leans in, his eyes never leaving yours. Then suddenly he pulls out a towel from behind you and wraps it around his waist. You sigh relieved that you can let your eyes wander again.

“Can I have my clothes back, little thief?” He asks with an adorable smile plastered on his face. “No, I’m stealing them for a dare.” You explain like you now have every right to steal his clothes. He tilts his head, not satisfied with your excuse. “I really need them.” You urge and you earn yourself a baffled expression from him. “So do I.”

“Clothes are overrated. You can go naked.” Blaise quirks an eyebrow. “I mean you have your towel.” You gesture to his slutty low hanging towel and when he looks down you head for the door. Unfortunately, you don’t get very far as he grabs a hold of your wrist. You stumble and fall into him, making you drop some of the clothes you were holding and causing his towel to loosen and fall down. As soon as you notice that his rather large member is revealed again you glue your eyes back to his. “Your towel.” He’s so amused with your flustered face that it really doesn’t bother him anymore.

His lips catch yours by surprise, but it doesn’t take long for you to relax into the kiss. Things heat up quickly. Your hands snake around his neck and he starts exploring your entire body, squeezing and cupping your breasts while gripping your ass and pulling you into his hips. You never stop touching each other as he walks you towards the shower. “I’m going to have to steal your clothes.” He explains as he pulls your shirt over your head. “Understandable.” Is all you say.

After more than an hour you return to your friends. “Did you take a shower?” Hermoine questions when she notices you walk in with wet hair. “Who cares! Did you get his clothes?” Luna screams in excitement about the dare. “Damn, I forgot about that.” You sigh and Luna looks confused. “Then what have you been doing all this time?” “Me.” You hear Blaise say as he passes you and your friends on his way to his room. You glare but his smile doesn't fade.

Theodore Nott

“I dare you to steal Nott’s clothes while he’s showering.” You roll your eyes as soon as you hear his name. All of your friends were convinced that you had a thing for him and you definitely admired his looks but you just couldn’t stand his smug face.

“Run in, grab his clothes and run out. Easy.” You whispered to yourself before slamming the door open with zero tact and running in. He of course immediately notices you. You spot a pile of clothes on the other side of the room and sprint towards it. When he realizes what you’re up to he steps out of the shower and heads towards the door.

You quickly hug the pile of clothes against your chest and turn around with the intention of running out, but there’s a flaw in your plan. Well, more like a very naked Theo leaning against the door. “I’m assuming you were dared to do this?” He raises an eyebrow. “Duh, why else would I be running around stealing clothes?” You were annoyed with his question and he was annoyed with your answer.

As you walk towards him it’s harder for you to ignore his massive cock, like its size is almost bothering you. No wonder his ego is so massive, just like his dick. He licks his lips as he watches you stare at him for a second too long to go unnoticed. When you look up and see his smirk, you sigh. “Just let me pass, Nott.” He shakes his head. “You come running in here, try to steal my clothes and expect me to let you walk out. You really aren’t that bright.” You narrow your eyes at him. “But you’re pretty, so maybe we can arrange something.”

The only thing between you two is the pile of clothes that you’re holding against your chest. Theo tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Come on, if you get on your knees for me I’ll let you walk out of here with my clothes.” You consider your options, but he makes choosing easier by leaning in and kissing you roughly. He bites your lips and you open your mouth while simultaneously dropping his clothes. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you press yourself against him. He eagerly embraces your lust and lets himself lean against a wall.

Your hands roam his naked chest and slowly you make your way to his already harding member. When you finally wrap your hand around his thick cock he lets out a soft moan. Even though his eyes are shut he knows you're smiling against his lips. You start pumping his dick and stroking his tip. Theo's breaths become messy. He hates that you know how much you turn him on, but he can’t help himself. More than once, has he spent his time daydreaming about you going down on him and now your lips were slowly making their way down from his neck to his chest to…

“You’re already leaking cum for me.” You taunt him and he looks down at you. Fuck, seeing you on your knees holding his cock. It does things to him. “But if you think something is going to happen, then you aren’t very bright, Theo.” With those words you jump up and grab his clothes, running like your life depends on it.

Panting you reach your friends and hold Theo’s clothes up in victory. Luna cheers excitedly. Some time passes and you’ve all decided to play one last round, when suddenly Theo walks in wearing nothing but a towel and if looks could fuck, then.. you know, definitely fucked. The lust in his eyes was dangerously attractive. His eyes never leave yours as he gathers his clothes laying next to you. “I’ll get you for this.” He says with a husky voice and licks his lips. Hermoine frowns and laughs nervously. “Why do I get the feeling this is about more than just stealing clothes?” Your heart starts racing as you watch Theo walk away, you might have gotten yourself in trouble.

[pennyellee]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E 

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

.

.

.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

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Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

[senseichaos]

"PATHETIC"

SUMMARY: Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air. It was that simple. But sometimes you like to be bad. (In which Alastor broadcasts your moans live as a punishment)

GENRE: PWP, Smut, small amount of angst, a lil fluff

WARNINGS: Psychopathic Alastor, sadism, masochism, bratty reader, unprotected sex (don't!), collar, handcuffs, chains, degradation, exhibitionism, implied aftercare, humiliation, finger sucking, dub-con/non-con depending on how you see it, orgasm denial, leash, praise, let me know if there are any more!

PART 2 (aftercare)

NOT PROOF READ (YET)

____

Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air, it was that simple.

But you do it anyway. Out of pure bratty desires you defy Alastor because.. why not? What's the worst that could happen? Actually.. there is a lot of 'worst' that could in fact happen but I mean, he's not all bad.. is he?

With a small grin on your face you lay your hand against the door swiftly, knocking loudly to make sure you are alerting Alastor of a visitor. The anxiety you feel when you do this is far too real, from the clammy fingers to the feeling that this whole idea is a horrible mistake. You almost feel as if you could fall to the floor beneath you.

Yet it's so exhilarating.

"I'm afraid I'm busy!" You hear Alastor holler from beyond the door, his slightly fake kind tone obvious. He hates it when people interrupt his work. You almost giggle, feeling an odd nervous giddiness going through yourself at the prospect of opening this door.

With a sharp intake of breath, you swing open the door and close it softly behind yourself. Though behind him you can see Alastor pinch the space between his eyebrows with an annoyed smile.

He turns his head to look over at you, giving you an annoyed smile that makes you bite your lower lip.

"What is it you need, dear?" Alastor asks, adjusting one of the nobs on the recording equipment in front of him. "I am very sure I said I was busy," He sighs, looking over at you again with even more annoyance visible on his face.

"I just wanted to hangout,"

Alastor stands, horns growing with his annoyance as he takes a warning step towards you. You take a meek step back and gulp down a nervous glob of saliva.

"So you come into my studio, interrupting my broadcast-" he turns shifts into his full demon form as he moves towards you, until his face is completely in front of your face. An angry smile on his features. "All because you wanted to hang out?" He pulls you closer by a metal collar of his energy, his nose against your own as his hand clutch tightly onto the chain.

"What a bad pet you are.." He says darkly, pulling you harshly so you choke and fall to the ground on your hands and knees. For a couple moments he just pulls you with the leash, walking you towards the chair until he sits on it. He swivels it around to look at you, your own large and nervous ones looking into his.

He pushes your head up to look straight at him by the toe of his shoe, the coldness making your skin burn. You can't help but lean even closer towards him, so the toe of his show just barely digs into the skin there.

"Fawn, you were just here for my attention, weren't you?"

You consider lying to him, making yourself out to be more of a brat and possibly get a worse outcome than you're already gonna get.. but from the position you're in it's probably a bad idea. So with a sharp gulp and a blush across your cheeks you nod, biting your lower lip. Alastor grins, leaning down and taking his foot from your chin.

His gaze is rather soft, almost adoring as he tugs you closer by your chain leash. Slowly and intimately he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pointing finger making you look into his lidded eyes. With a burst of passion you suck onto his thumb, swirling your tongue against the red claw as he watches with amused eyes.

"My lovely fawn, perhaps you just need to be reminded who owns you," He purrs, pulling his thumb from your mouth (much to your dismay). With a sharp motion Alastor tangles his fingers into your hair, manhandling you face first into his desk so your ass faces him. You cry out at this movement, the roughness of his movements contrasting wildly to the care he gave you just moments before.

"Lovely. I'm afraid this punishment is not going to be pleasant, but you must learn from your mistakes," Alastor sighs, and with a swift motion of his hands bounding your wrists with cuffs of his magic. He keeps them bound onto the table so you are unable to move, causing a pain to go through your wrists when you flinch at Alastor's movements. Roughly, he pulls down your skirt and discards it across the room, leaving you bare besides from your thin pink panties.

"What a pretty color, they must be a favorite pair of yours.." you blush, trying to tilt your head to see him behind you; only for the collar to keep you from doing so. You feel his claws drag up the sides of your thighs until they meet the fabric of your panties, clawing rather dangerously at it.

"Yeah, i-i wore them for you.." You whimper with a stutter, wiggling your but at him to appear enticing. He chuckles, hooking his pointer fingers into your panties at each side.

"How lovely,"

With a harsh pull, he rips either side of your panties in half. You gasp at this, trying to stand up only for the cuffs around your hands and the collar around your neck to tighten. This causes you to bruise and cry out in pain.

"Alastor! I liked that pair.." You complain, kicking your legs in a sort of tantrum that Alastor tuts. With a sudden thrash Alastor aggressively pulls at your chain leash, making your head move up with a strain that is horribly painful.

"Bad fawns don't get treated with propriety, my dear," Alastor explains, twisting his hand so the chain slowly wraps around his hand. You can see his shadow loom closer and closer over your own figure.

"And bad fawns especially don't get any foreplay.."

What? No foreplay? He can't be serious..

Let's just say.. Alastor is rather large in the nether regions. And he knows this. Every single time you've ever fornicated he'd always done foreplay- just to open you up enough that you wouldn't be in horrid paid every time he stuck his cock in you. You can already feel the pain inside of you and he hasn't even pushed his tip to you.

"Alastor, no- I can't.."

"Don't forget my fawn.." He hooks his fingers into your hair again, forcing you to tilt your head as he whispers into your ear. His horns are larger than earlier, and his entire build in general is a lot more.. demonic.

"You wanted this.."

You don't want this anymore.

Tantalizing slow, Alastor drags his claws up your spine, taking in every shiver and whimper that you give him in turn. How dominating he feels, it's like nothing else to him he can tear as many people's souls to shreds but nothing will be the same as fucking you to pliancy. He can do horrid things to you, and you still come back for more.

He loves that in you, in his own way.

You feel his tip just barely twitch against your entrance, one hand holding your chain and his staff whilst the other presses harshly against your thigh. Wait. Why is he holding his staff.. that doesn't make any sense unless-

Fuck. He can't be serious, can he?

"Salutations dear listeners, ever so sorry for my break. But I have a treat just for you!" He says, his voice strong with the confidence of a person who has done this millions of times before. Shivering you let out a small whimper, he's really going to do this, isn't he? He's going to fuck you on air. You want to disappear. This is humiliating! This is.. humiliating. He can't be serious! You though he was better than this..

Shows you to think more of the radio demon.

In a swift movement you scream out, Alastor's entire length being shoved into you with a single thrust. You see stars of red, the area around you glowing a green that makes your head just slightly throb in pain. With another harsh thrust Alastor pulls in your leash, forcing you to look out the window.

He leans down and growls condescendingly.

"Watch the entirety of the pride ring as they hear me break you," he says and you cry out. He is. He is breaking you from the inside out, you can feel every thrust of his cock through your entire body with a painful wave. You can hardly see anymore. Everything is blurred with a wall of tears that fall down your cheeks.

"Fuck!" You cry in a distressful pleasure. You hate that this feels good. Why do you want him to break you? Why do you want him to fuck you from the inside out until all you can do is sit there and listen to him speak. You hate that you love this.

"That's it, little fawn. Let me break your whorish body.." He laughs, the hold on your chain leash making you lose a very small amount of air. You try to clutch at something, anything to ground you, but all you can feel is the warm chains bounding you to the desk beneath you, the chains bounding you to this terrible pleasure.

You can't describe it. Every thrust of his cock makes you moan, in an ashamed yet purely entangled tone. You can hear the passion in your voice as Alastor digs his claws so hard into you you bleed. Yet you can definitely hear the pain in your voice when the tip of his cock just barely hits your cervix.

"Such a pathetic thing, letting me take you like this.. you didn't even put up a fight,"

You see red, a weird loving anger.

"I fucking HATE you.."

Alastor laughs, and you can practically smell that shit-eating grin on his face.

"No," he thrusts "You," he thrusts "Dont~" he thrusts, punctuating his words and his teasing tone. You claw at the chains, wishing to rip their bounds so you can spit in his stupid beautiful face. Fuck. You can't stop this pleasure.

With every thrust comes another build of an orgasm inside of you, every thrust making that knot pull tighter and tighter. He isn't even doing anything to pleasure you, either- you just love this in a way you can't describe.

"Don't orgasm without my permission, dear," Alastor cackles, biting his lower lip "Or else..!" He teases, giving you a particularly harsh thrust as to solidify his words. You nod softly with a whimper, your neck aching from the way he's handling your leash.

You clench particularly hard, feeling that orgasm begging to be released.

"Alastor! Please let me cum.." You whimper, biting your lower lip as it trembles very slightly. He hums for a moment, as if to mock your display of obedience before clicking his tongue and leaning down.

"Beg for it," he says simply, thrusting even quicker making the urgency inside of you real. Crying, you babble for a moment, the pleasure inside of you becoming to much.

"Fuck! Please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll listen to everything you say, please! Please..." You don't think you've felt more desperate your whole entire time in hell, which is even more pathetic, really. The most desperate you've felt isn't for your life, money, or soul. It's to come on the cock of a psychopathic sadist.

"Lovely. Come for me, my dear,"

You let go with an obnoxious wail, walls clenching around Alastor so tightly you could have sworn he grunted. It's like your whole body let go, your legs give out, your shoulders relax, and your eyes roll back.

"Good fawn, how good,"

With one last thrust, Alastor buries his cock deeply inside of you, emptying his seed to the point where your stomach begins to bloat. One thing you've learnt about Alastor, when he cums, he cums a lot.

"Now then," Alastor declares after a short moment, pulling his cock from your hole and stuffing it back into his pants. "Let's get you cleaned up!" Alastor says brightly, clicking his fingers so the bounds on your neck and hands release. Though this only makes your centre of gravity shift in such a way you almost fall to the ground, if it weren't for Alastor catching you and holding you bridal style. Holding you. This is a rare occurrence indeed.

"Thank you dear listeners and I'll see you next time! Perhaps you may even get another treat, Ha ha!"

Alastor turns back to you, looking at you deep in the eyes as his sclera turn a deep black.

"Will they, my dear..?"

You gulp, shrinking in his arms.

"No, Alastor,"

He turns back to normal, giving you an adoring look as he twirls on his foot, taking you from the room.

"Lovely, now let's get a bath running!"

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MEET THE FAMILY : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Stark!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men & MCU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After your dad, Tony Stark, finds out you’re dating Logan, he insists the whole Avengers team meet him. Nervous but with Logan by your side, you head to the compound, with Wade tagging along. The Avengers are curious and a little skeptical, especially Tony, but Logan holds his own during dinner. He impresses the team with his confidence and clear care for you, even earning Tony’s reluctant approval by the end of the night. Despite the initial tension, Logan becomes a part of your chaotic family, and everyone accepts him.

Part 2

THE COMPOUND WAS QUIET. Too quiet. You'd been on edge ever since Happy had called you that morning, voice full of that awkward yet endearing nervousness he always got when delivering bad—or rather, inconvenient—news.

“Your dad knows.”

Three words that had set your entire day into a downward spiral of anxiety. Of course, Tony would find out. He had eyes and ears everywhere, despite you trying to keep things on the down low. And now, he had apparently told everyone.

Your boyfriend, Logan, sat beside you on the drive to the Avengers compound, eyes fixed on the road, completely unfazed. He was never one to be easily rattled. He hadn’t even batted an eye when you mentioned the entire Avengers team was going to be waiting to meet him. If anything, he just lit a cigar and shrugged, saying, "Not the first time I've been sized up by a bunch of superheroes."

Logan was like that. Unbothered. Calm in the face of impending chaos.

Unlike you.

You let out a deep sigh, clutching the steering wheel a bit tighter. "You know, we could just make a U-turn right now," you muttered, hoping, praying he’d take you up on the offer.

Logan chuckled, the low rumble soothing and maddening all at once. "Nah, darlin'. We’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?"

"Logan, it's my dad. My dad, who, mind you, is Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Overprotective father extraordinaire. I love him, but he’s going to grill you."

He smirked, one of those self-assured, slightly cocky looks that made your heart skip. "I’ve been through worse, trust me."

You were about to respond when a voice suddenly piped up from the backseat, startling you both.

“Hey, so what’s for dinner? I hope it’s not shawarma. I had that yesterday, and let me tell you, intestinal distress doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Wade?!”

The red-suited mercenary, Wade Wilson—aka Deadpool—grinned as he popped his head between the seats. "Who else? You thought I’d miss a chance to meet the Avengers again? Besides, I’ve got a bet with myself to see which of them cracks first. My money’s on Banner. Big guy’s got a short fuse."

You groaned. “Wade, you weren’t even invited.”

"Yeah, but you love me," Wade said with a wink. "Plus, I’m the one who introduced you two lovebirds, so technically, I’m responsible for all of this.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of amusement there. He had a weird, chaotic friendship with Wade that baffled you at times. Still, Wade had been the one to introduce you to Logan in the first place. After one of those typical Wade escapades where you'd found yourself smack dab in the middle of a multiverse-saving mission, Logan had swooped in, gruff and full of snark, but undeniably magnetic. You'd been hooked ever since.

"Alright, just... please don't say anything weird when we get there. This is already going to be awkward enough as it is."

Wade gave you a salute. "Scout's honor, kiddo."

~

When you arrived at the compound, Logan strode beside you, a protective yet calm presence. Wade, naturally, flanked the other side, completely unfazed by the prospect of facing a room full of Earth's mightiest heroes.

As you entered the living area, the first to greet you was not your father, but Morgan Stark, Tony’s precocious little daughter, who ran up to you with a big grin on her face.

"Hey, Morgs," you greeted, bending down to hug her.

Her eyes immediately shifted to Logan, who watched the interaction with a faint smile. "Is this him?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

You nodded, a little nervous. "Yup. Morgan, this is Logan."

Morgan looked up at him with wide eyes, studying him. Logan crouched down to her level, his usually gruff demeanor softening just a bit. “You must be Morgan. Your sister talks about you all the time."

Morgan beamed. "You’re tall."

Logan chuckled. “And you’re smart.”

Morgan grinned and then, in typical kid fashion, dashed off, satisfied with her judgment. "I like him!" she called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

One down.

Then the rest of the team filtered in—Tony, Pepper, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and even Rhodey. They all sized Logan up in their own way.

Tony, of course, was the first to speak.

"So," he said, voice casual but his eyes sharp, "this is the guy?"

Logan straightened up, meeting Tony's gaze with that signature, unflinching confidence. "Yup."

Tony took a moment, probably running a full background check in his mind before nodding. “Alright. Dinner’s almost ready, but first, I think the team’s got some questions.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a polite smile. “Logan, right? How’d you two meet?”

Before you could respond, Wade butted in.

“Oh, it’s a great story!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. “So, picture this—alternate dimensions, worlds colliding, typical Tuesday stuff. I’m getting my ass handed to me by some bad guys—”

“I don’t remember it that way,” you interjected.

“Shh, let me have this moment. Anyway, I call in Logan here for backup, because duh, claws and healing factor, and then boom, sparks fly between these two.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked between you and Logan. "Sparks?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but Wade was too quick. "Like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Or maybe that was an explosion—I can't remember."

Logan sighed, clearly used to Wade's antics by now. “We met on a mission. Wade was being a pain in the ass, as usual. Your girl here held her own, and I liked that."

Your face heated up at Logan’s praise. You noticed Natasha and Steve exchanging a look. Clint leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, lips quirking up slightly as if he was already sizing Logan up.

“Multiverse missions, huh?" Clint finally said. "That must’ve been fun.”

Logan smirked, locking eyes with Clint, both men now in some sort of unspoken stare-off. “Fun's one way to put it.”

Clint didn’t break eye contact but gave a slow, approving nod. “So you’re used to the crazy life. Good.”

Thor, ever the enthusiastic one, stepped forward next, looking Logan up and down. "Ah, a fellow warrior, no doubt!" He clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, earning a slight grunt from him. “Tell me, Logan, have you faced a frost giant before? Or perhaps a horde of dark elves?”

Logan gave a half-shrug, completely unfazed by Thor’s boisterous personality. “Haven’t seen those specifically, but I’ve fought my fair share of things with claws, teeth, and bad attitudes.”

Thor laughed heartily, clearly impressed. "Then we shall have many stories to exchange!"

Bruce, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up. "So, uh... any anger management issues we should be aware of?" He asked it cautiously, but you could see the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Wade snorted. "Banner, you're one to talk."

Logan just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Let’s just say I know how to handle myself.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpened. "I’ve heard about you. Wolverine, right? Healing factor, claws, indestructible skeleton."

Logan nodded once. "That’s me."

She studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, approving nod. “Impressive.”

Tony, though silent for most of the interaction, was still sizing Logan up. You could feel the weight of your dad’s expectations hanging over the room. He wasn’t one to just roll over and let things be.

“So, Logan,” Tony said, leaning back with a scrutinizing look. “You’ve been around a long time. Done a lot, I assume. How exactly do you plan on handling my daughter?”

Logan didn’t flinch under Tony’s gaze. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “She can handle herself just fine, Stark. But if you're asking if I’ve got her back? Always.”

The room went quiet for a beat. Even Wade had paused from whatever chaotic inner monologue he had going. The weight of Logan’s words, his seriousness, seemed to sink into everyone.

Tony’s eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time that night, his expression softened. A flicker of something—acceptance, maybe—passed across his face.

“Well,” Tony said, standing up and smoothing his shirt. “In that case, I suppose we should eat.”

As everyone began to move toward the dining room, you felt Logan’s hand slide into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, relieved to see a small smile playing on his lips.

“They like you,” you whispered.

Logan shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes. “More importantly, they love you.”

You leaned into him slightly as you both followed the rest of the Avengers. And as for Logan? He had passed the test.

~

As the group settled into the dining room, the mood shifted slightly—less tense, more familial. The Avengers took their seats around the long table, conversations gradually picking up, but you couldn’t shake the subtle glances they kept throwing Logan’s way. It was clear they were still sizing him up in their own way.

Logan, for his part, remained calm. He was good at reading a room, better at letting things roll off his back. You’d noticed that about him early on—he had this way of commanding a space just by being in it, without the need for flashy words or grand gestures. Even so, you could tell by the way his hand remained close to yours that he was paying attention to every little detail. Watching, listening, judging.

Morgan was seated next to Tony, happily talking to Pepper about something she’d done at school that week, her occasional glance toward Logan full of childlike curiosity and approval. To her, Logan wasn’t an intimidating figure. He was your boyfriend—nothing more, nothing less. The simplicity of it warmed your heart.

Dinner was served, and Wade, who had somehow managed to squeeze in between Natasha and Clint, immediately started in on a loud, entirely unprompted story about a mission in Madripoor that no one really asked for.

“So there I was, pinned down by a mob of highly trained ninja assassins—yes, they exist, Steve—and I’m about to go down for the count when Logan here comes in with the whole snikt, snikt thing,” Wade mimed Logan’s claws extending with dramatic flair, “and saves my beautiful behind from a fate worse than death: losing my taco night.”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Right, because that’s clearly the priority in a life-or-death situation.”

“Exactly!” Wade pointed enthusiastically, as if Steve had just made his point for him. “This guy gets it.”

Natasha leaned back, smirking as she cut into her food. “So, Logan saved your life, and that’s how the two of you met?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not exactly. Logan and I didn’t really meet officially until a little later. Wade just… happened to be there. Per usual.”

“Per usual, my dear?” Wade gasped dramatically. “You wound me. You wouldn’t have even met this tall drink of Canadian water if it weren’t for me!”

Logan gave a quiet grunt of amusement, though he didn’t say anything. Instead, he caught your eye, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Wade continued his rambling story.

Thor, who had been listening intently to Wade’s increasingly exaggerated tale, turned to Logan, looking genuinely intrigued. “So, Wolverine, your claws—are they forged of enchanted metal, much like Mjölnir?”

Logan paused, mid-chew, and raised an eyebrow at the Asgardian. “Not exactly. Adamantium. Strongest metal on Earth. Had it grafted to my skeleton a long time ago.”

Thor nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Ah, I see! A most noble addition. I myself am well-acquainted with weaponry of such caliber. Though I must admit,” he leaned in slightly, “I would be most curious to see them in action.”

Logan gave a low chuckle. “Maybe after dessert.”

As the conversation drifted on, Logan slowly began to settle in. Steve asked him a few more questions about his past—carefully avoiding anything too personal or traumatic—and Clint, always the quiet observer, seemed to be assessing Logan from across the table, eyes sharp but not unkind.

Tony, meanwhile, hadn’t said much since dinner started. He watched everything, listened to everyone, but remained quiet, only offering the occasional comment or quip. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was still processing. As much as Tony trusted your judgment, the whole “overprotective dad” thing didn’t exactly disappear overnight.

“So,” Tony finally spoke up, setting his fork down as the rest of the table quieted. “You’ve been through a lot. War, battles, more than most people could handle in one lifetime. And yet, here you are.”

Logan glanced at him, not quite sure where this was going, but he nodded. “Yeah. Seen more than my share.”

Tony leaned forward, elbows on the table, and his gaze sharpened, narrowing slightly as if he was putting Logan through one last test. “My daughter’s important to me— really important. You say you’ve got her back, and I respect that. But if you’re sticking around… you’re gonna need to know one thing.”

The room stilled. Even Wade had gone quiet, which was a rare feat. Logan met Tony’s stare head-on, not a trace of intimidation or hesitation in his gaze.

“What’s that?” Logan asked evenly.

Tony exhaled, his expression softening—just a fraction. “This family? We’ve been through hell. Lost people we cared about. We’ve had our world flipped upside down more times than I can count. And the thing is… when you’re in, you’re in. No half-measures. No walking away when things get tough. You stick it out. You fight for the people who matter.”

Logan didn’t blink. His gaze shifted briefly to you, then back to Tony. “That’s how I’ve always lived.”

Tony nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. There was a weight to that moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever final test Tony had in mind, it seemed Logan had passed.

Pepper, sensing the shift, smiled softly and placed a hand on Tony’s arm, quietly grounding him. “Dinner was wonderful,” she said warmly, breaking the tension. “I think we’ve had enough grilling for one night.”

Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You’ve survived the inquisition. Impressive.”

Logan shrugged. “Didn’t seem all that bad.”

Rhodey laughed. “You’re lucky. The last guy that showed up to date one of Stark’s kids? He didn’t make it past the appetizers.”

Tony snorted, shooting Rhodey a playful glare. “That’s because that guy showed up in a muscle car blaring AC/DC and quoting Shakespeare.”

“I thought you liked AC/DC?” you teased.

“I do. Not when it’s a first impression.”

Morgan, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, suddenly piped up. “Are you staying here tonight?” she asked innocently, looking up at Logan.

Logan blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh…”

“Morgan,” Pepper began, her tone gentle but with that motherly undertone of “not now.”

“What? If he’s dating my sister, maybe he should stay!”

Wade, sensing an opportunity to cause more chaos, grinned beneath his mask. “Oh, I second that motion, mini-Stark! Logan here can bunk with me. I’ll show him my extensive collection of ‘80s action movies. It’ll be like a slumber party, only with more explosions.”

Clint nearly spit out his drink, trying to stifle his laughter, and even Natasha cracked a rare smile.

Logan, who had been stoic and composed throughout the entire evening, just shook his head. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

You burst out laughing, and as you glanced around the table, you saw that, little by little, Logan was beginning to fit in with the Avengers’ chaotic dynamic. Sure, there were still guarded looks and unspoken tests, but your family—both blood and found—was starting to accept him in their own way.

As dessert was served and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt Logan’s hand rest on your knee under the table, a small, reassuring touch that grounded you. You leaned into him slightly, smiling to yourself. Maybe this whole thing hadn’t been as bad as you’d feared.

By the time the evening began winding down, Logan was in the middle of an animated conversation with Thor about battle strategies, Wade was loudly recounting yet another exaggerated mission story to anyone who’d listen, and Morgan had fallen asleep in Pepper’s arms.

Tony, now more relaxed, leaned over to you as the others chatted around the table. “So… Logan,” he said quietly.

You glanced at him, unsure of what was coming next. “Yeah?”

Tony gave a small, reluctant smile. “I still think you could’ve given me a heads-up earlier, but… he’s alright. I guess.”

You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his. “Told you so.”

Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

As the night wrapped up and the team slowly began to disperse, you and Logan lingered by the door. Tony walked up to Logan, offering his hand.

“Take care of her,” Tony said, his tone steady but genuine.

Logan gripped Tony’s hand firmly, meeting his gaze once more. “Always.”

With that final exchange, you left the compound with Logan by your side, Wade tagging along (of course). And as you drove away, your hand resting in Logan’s, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Your family had met him. He’d met them. And while it hadn’t been perfect, it was the first step in blending the two worlds you cared so deeply about. In the end, Logan wasn’t just a part of your life anymore.

He was a part of theirs.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

If you want to be added to the Logan tag list, let me know!

[bro-atz]

the better man

in which: your roommate and your college friend both have feelings for you.

pair: college student!san/college student!afab!reader/college student!mingyu

word count: 14.8k

content: slight angst, a lot of drama, nicknames (cutie, baby), slow burn at the beginning, smut (obvi), jealousy, competition, cat vs dog, three different smut scenes omg, slightly drunk make out sessions, oral sex, (filthy as fuck) threesome, double penetration, safe sex, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: thank you @k-hotchoisan for helping me with the development of this entire fic! ilysm <3 also ik this fic is long as fuck but i couldn't help myself... two of my ults in the same fic? you bet your ass i'm going to make a whole kdrama! so grab your popcorn, sit back, and enjoy this insane ride (with the slowest burn of all time)

another world masterlist

YOU have had so many people tell you that you should never live with your friends because it'll ruin the friendship, but you and your best friend moving in together was honestly one of the best decisions you had ever made in your entire life.

San was the perfect roommate for you. The two of you balanced each other out well, and he was always super protective of you, which was nice because if you were ever in a situation where you needed rescuing, San was right there. The greatest part was that he didn't have feelings for you.

What you didn't know was that San had some feelings for you, but he chose to ignore them.

And one of the greatest things about San was that he always stayed up late if you were out with friends. He always made sure you came home safe. After all, roommates are supposed to be there for each other, right?

"Sannie, I'm home!" your voice echoed through the apartment. After hearing the words leave your mouth, you giggled, then said out loud, "Sannie sounds like honey..."

San, who was sitting at the kitchen countertop, looked up from his laptop, then looked at the time blinking on the stove clock. Two in the morning wasn't bad at all considering how drunk you were. San got up from the barstool and made his way over to you, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched, with slight amusement, you struggle to take your strappy heels off.

"Someone had a good night," he commented, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You went to look up at him, but you lost your balance and nearly fell over. Luckily, your roommate was there to catch you and help you keep your balance while you took off the other heel with a huge sigh of relief— your heels were killing you.

"I had a great night," you corrected him while stumbling through the threshold and into the living room. "Our club meeting was boring as hell, so I suggested we go to a bar and get a couple of drinks... One thing led to another, and I totally won at darts!"

"Really? You didn't take someone's eye out?" San couldn't help but snort 

"You underestimate me, my dear friend."

You flopped into the smack-dab-middle of the sofa, San following you shortly thereafter into the living room. He at first remained standing, only to sit when you patted the empty space next to you. You hummed softly as you brought your limbs back together and rested your head on your roommate's insanely broad shoulders while he wrapped his arm over your shoulders. It was almost second nature at that point; San was so used to you being an affectionate drunk that he automatically prepared himself for you to cuddle into him.

"You're definitely going to have a hangover tomorrow," San said softly as he rested his hand on your forehead.

"Of course I will... But you'll be here to take care of me, so I'll be fine," you murmured while closing your eyes.

San couldn't help but smile. He rested his head on top of yours and listened to the sound of your peaceful breathing, thinking you were asleep. However, you were just resting your eyes, because seconds later, you were moving your head from his shoulder. You stared blankly at your roommate, your eyes running over all of his features. San looked at you with mild concern the longer you stared.

"What? Do you need to throw up?" he asked.

"No, that's not..." you trailed off.

You lowered your gaze and noticed a stray piece of lint on his chest. You picked the lint off then smoothed out his shirt, your hand brushing along his defined chest a couple times. Mindlessly, you rested your hand on his chest. Your hands were a little too numb from the alcohol swarming your system, so you (luckily) couldn't feel San's heart rate elevating.

"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" you asked as you began to draw lazy patterns along his chest.

"Every time you drink," San responded with a slightly annoyed sigh; he didn't like when you called him pretty. He didn't need a more masculine term or anything, but there was something about the word that icked him out.

"You're so much cuter up close... Like a cuddly bear... Or a Maine Coon..."

"A Maine Coon?"

"You're like a kitty cat, but you're so big... So you're a Maine Coon... You're my Maine Coon."

San's heart completely skipped a beat when you said he was yours. He was used to you saying things like that when you were sober, but this drunk version of those words were a little different this time around. The way you were looking at him, the softness in your voice— it brought the feelings he had buried for you right up to the surface.

"You definitely need to get some sleep," San chuckled awkwardly, trying to deflect whatever the hell was going on between the two of you.

"I know, I should... But I want to stay like this a little bit longer," you admitted while resting your head on his shoulder once again. "You're so soft and warm... Like a big cat."

"Really? I had no idea. It's like you didn't just say that," he replied sarcastically, making you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.

"Don't make fun of me, Sannie."

"Okay, I'll stop. But seriously, I think you should go to bed now."

"Not yet. I still wanna cuddle."

Slumping his head in defeat, San let you settle into him a little more. With his free hand, he instinctively brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, his fingers lingering on the edge of your ear for a second too long. Subtly, he moved his hand away and rested it on the curve of your waist— horrible idea on his part— his fingers grazing the slightly exposed skin from your shirt riding up a little too much.

Every single movement from him made you feel even hotter than before. Your fingers and toes tingled, although you couldn't tell if it was him or the alcohol, but something definitely stirred within you. Your heart thrummed against your chest as the confidence from the alcohol started to speak for you.

"San," you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he responded in the same register.

"Don't hate me for this, okay?"

San didn't even have time to question you. You brushed your lips against his with a feather light touch, your eyes fluttering open as you looked into his eyes. They were wide with shock, but they were also sparkly and beautiful. So you closed your eyes again and pressed your lips against his again and again and again, each kiss getting more intense than the last one.

San's mind went blank. His body moved on instinct. He pulled you closer and tangled his fingers in your hair as he deepened the kiss, the two of you holding onto each other for dear life because the world was spinning too fast.

You parted, breathless and slightly dizzy, but you felt great, nay, wonderful. Honestly, you were addicted, and there was nothing else you wanted to do that night but kiss San.

So you did. All night.

YOU woke up the next morning groggily and feeling like the world would explode if you did so much as breathe. Your head was throbbing— thank you, hangover— and regret filled every single cell of your body because that morning, you woke up to see San sleeping in bed with you.

Nothing happened the night before. Well, other than the kissing, nothing happened, and you knew that nothing happened because for one thing, you and San were still fully clothed, and you also started sobering up while you were kissing San that night and remembered everything. You remembered the way he held your waist, the way his fingers slid up your top, the feeling you got when he stopped kissing your lips and moved to your neck, the way he made you feel so...

So wanted. So sexy.

You sat up and held your pounding head, the arm San had resting on your waist slipping out of place, making him grunt slightly. His face, so relaxed and serene before, changed when he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned slightly. His eyes fluttered open, and you immediately averted your eyes while trying to figure out how you were going to play the situation because the events of the night before were definitely going to ruin your friendship with him, and you wanted anything but that.

So you decided to play dumb.

"Morning," San's low, groggy morning voice sent tingles down your spine.

"M-Morning," you squeaked out despite clearing your throat before talking and playing the blackout card. "Uh, what are you doing here?"

"I think you invited me," he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbow. "Well, you dragged me in here, actually."

"O-Oh... I... I don't remember..."

"I figured as much."

Huh?

"You were pretty drunk and giddy... Shit, maybe I shouldn't have kissed you," San's face paled slightly when he realized the gravity of his actions.

"W-We kissed?" you badly wanted to reassure him that the kiss was consensual, that you didn't regret kissing him— because he was an amazing kisser and you regretted ruining your friendship more than anything— but you still had to play fucking stupid.

"We made out... A lot."

"San, I'm so sorry," you spoke carefully to validate his actions. "I was really drunk, and you know how I get affectionate when I'm drunk, so don't feel bad. Also, I don't feel violated, so you're okay."

"You sure? Because I definitely fucked up—"

"It's okay. I promise."

You hoped that your definitive statement would be enough for him to take and run with, and after a moment of silent contemplation, San nodded his head. He sat up and kept his head bowed, and your heart stung a little. It was like watching a guilty cat, so you couldn't help but pet his head like he was a fucking cat.

"W-What're you doing?" San asked, the man lifting his head to reveal the pink blush that had spread across his face.

"I guess I'm petting you," you couldn't help but laugh. "There, there."

"Please tell me you remember some of last night."

"W-What do you mean?"

"You called me a Maine Coon."

It took everything in you to not burst out laughing because you totally remembered saying that— and you stood by your word.

"I kinda remember saying that..." you admitted slowly.

You were able to laugh when San chuckled, the tension leaving your chest. You were so relieved that San was acting like his normal self, that he didn't seem bothered by the fact that you didn't remember the night before.

San was extremely bothered. He wished you remembered because, goddammit, last night was so fucking amazing, and he wished he could take your relationship a little further.

"I'm gonna go make breakfast," San announced as he got off the bed, leaving your hand midair because you were still petting him. "Do you want any?"

"No. I think I'm going to sleep until my head stops hurting, but thanks," you faked a yawn.

"Alright. Get some rest."

With that, San closed the door. You laid back down in bed and covered yourself with the duvet, guilt gnawing at you like anything. You had to lie to your roommate just to preserve your fucking friendship. You sighed deeply and sadly as you stared at the ceiling.

You ended up turning in your bed to go back to bed because you really did want to sleep the headache off. Your eyes landed on the empty space next to you then trailed over to the pillow San was sleeping on. Tentatively, you brought the pillow to your chest and buried your face in it, taking in San's natural scent.

You instantly regretted it. He smelled amazing. So amazing, in fact, that your entire body reacted to it.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself as you felt your arousal pool in your panties.

You shouldn't have done it, but you reached down in between your legs, and while you let San's scent surround you, you pleasured yourself.

No wonder people said to not live with your friends.

YOU didn't mean to avoid San for several days after the incident. You just got really busy with club activities. You were on the e-board, and since festival season was coming up, you had your hands full with a lot of the planning— literally.

"Shit, shit, shit," you cursed as the pile of flyers in your hands started to waver out of place.

And, of course, all the flyers flew from your hands, the papers scattered on the ground in the hallway. You uttered several profanities under your breath as you started to collect all the flyers.

"Hey— Woah, what happened here?" a familiar voice rang out behind you.

You turned around and sighed loudly, conveying your annoyance to your tall friend.

"Mingyu, help me out with these, will you?" you asked him.

Nodding, he crouched down and began helping you pick up the flyers. After you got all of them, you ended up forcing him (technically, he would've helped you regardless) to help you carry them to the club room.

"I would ask you how you dropped everything in the first place, but I get it because I've done it before," Mingyu chuckled and attempted to fill the silence between the two of you with some sort of conversation.

"I just don't understand why we can't have our own printer in our club room," you grumbled.

"At least with the print center, they'll fold the brochures, staple packets, and turn the pages into a bound booklet for us."

"...Okay fine. Then I wish our club room was closer to the print center. I still don't get why our room is at the far end of the floor."

"At least we're on the same floor—"

"Okay! I get it! Stop justifying everything and let me complain!" you cut him off before he could explain the other side.

Mingyu laughed loudly and kept his lips zipped until you got to the club room. Hopping up on the table, he watched you organize the flyers on the table— he would've helped, but the organizing was definitely more of a one person job.

"Hey, I have a question for you," he started.

You hummed in response while keeping busy with your task.

"Are you okay?"

"What do you mean? Of course I am."

"No, like, you seem a little off lately."

"What are you talking about, Gyu?"

"Did something happen at home? Between you and your roommate? Because I haven't heard you talk about him for a while."

You froze. You didn't want to freeze because you didn't want Mingyu to know shit about anything between you and San and especially because you didn't want anyone knowing what happened between you and San.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Mingyu leaned towards you. "Talk to me about it."

"Everything is fine," you said after clearing your throat and resuming your organizing task.

"Yeah, right," Mingyu said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "I thought we were friends and that you could share any of your problems with me, but I guess you don't see me as a friend..."

You knew Mingyu was intentionally trying to guilt trip you and get you to spill on the events that happened several nights before, but you weren't going to fall for his tricks. Not at all.

"Buddy," you grabbed Mingyu's cheeks with one hand. "You are my friend, but I'm not telling you shit because nothing happened. Got it?"

"Then why are you acting all suspicious? You're totally hiding something," Mingyu mumbled through his lips since you were still squeezing his cheeks.

Letting go of his cheeks, you exhaled deeply, planted both palms of your hands on the table and looked him dead in the eyes before lying your ass off. "Look, I got really drunk one night, and I said some things to him that I shouldn't have said. He said it's fine, but I still feel bad. Okay?"

"Damn, okay, you don't have to be so aggressive about it," Mingyu finally backed off.

"Sorry, but it's just been... It's been bothering me."

Everything that happened with San really was bothering the shit out of you— you kept thinking about San in very sexual manners before going to bed every single fucking night, but there was no way in hell you were going to tell anyone that you wanted to fuck your roommate.

"You should talk about it with someone. You know I'm always here to listen," he said softly while placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"Thanks, Mingyu. I appreciate it."

Finally, he let the topic go, and you got back to finishing your organization project. After everything was set in place, you and Mingyu ended up leaving the club room together. The entire walk down the long hallway and to the elevators as well as the elevator ride to the building lobby consisted of Mingyu teasing you and making you laugh, your worries about San melting away.

When you exited the building, you nearly tripped over your own two feet, Mingyu catching you.

"You're clumsy as fuck, aren't you? First the flyers, now this," Mingyu teased as he got you back to your feet.

"Shut up, I'm just tired."

Still, to make sure you weren't going to fall again, Mingyu had his arm over your shoulder. Even after you reached the last stair, he still had his arm around you.

The sun was setting by the time you left the building that day, so when you looked ahead and saw a figure before you, the figure looked absolutely stunning and breathtaking surrounded by the orange and red hues of the setting sun. It wasn't until you got closer to the figure did you realize who it was.

"San—" you were about to ask him what he was doing there, but you forgot that he always walked you home from campus that day because he had a class around the same time as your club meeting. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Not really," he shook his head.

You watched him open his mouth to say something, only to stop.

Why was that guy's arm over your shoulder?

"Oh, Mingyu, this is my roommate, San. San, this is Mingyu. He's the treasurer," you introduced the two to each other, suddenly realizing that this is the first time they're meeting each other.

"Nice to finally meet you," Mingyu dropped his hand from your shoulder and held it out for San to shake.

Finally?

"Nice to meet you, too," San suppressed the urge to furrow his eyebrows in confusion and instead plastered a picturesque smile onto his face.

"Alright, well, thanks for the help, Gyu," you waved to him as you left his side and walked towards San. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," Mingyu waved back. "Get home safe, you two!"

When you got to San's side, you felt him wrap his arm around your shoulder. He did that all the time, but this time around, you felt electricity jolt through your body. The last time you touched him was when you were incredibly drunk, and the touch you had been craving every single night since then was finally there, nearly sending you spiraling.

"Hey, I have a question for you," San snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"What did he mean when he said finally?"

"Oh, that." You felt yourself return to normal when you explained, "I talk about you all the time to the other club members."

"What?" San was a little taken aback. "What do you tell them?"

"I mean just like normal roommate things like us watching movies, or you making food for me or the other way around. Normal roommate things."

San nodded, accepting your explanation. To keep the horny thoughts away, you continued rambling about the members of the club to San on your way home, his arm eventually slipping from your shoulder. And you continued talking to him normally when you got home. He didn't bring up the fact that it had been a while since you talked, and you didn't point it out either, so everything was falling back into place.

Normalcy. Finally.

Or so you thought. You couldn't stop thinking about the way San had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you spent another night regretting your sinful thoughts over your roommate.

SAN didn't like Mingyu from the moment he met him. He had no reason to not like him, but there was something about the way he was with you that rubbed San the wrong way. Maybe it was because Mingyu had his arm around you so familiarly and because you never ever told him about Mingyu until the night San met him.

He also didn't like how much time you were spending with Mingyu. He knew that you had club activities, that you were preparing for the festival and that you and Mingyu would be working together a lot, but he still hated it. It wasn't like San was your boyfriend or anything, so it shouldn't have bothered him how close you were getting with Mingyu. But Mingyu would carry you home after you had one too many drinks, and seeing the way Mingyu would touch you so familiarly made his blood boil just a tiny bit.

He especially hated it because everything had changed between the two of you after the night you got drunk and kissed him. He felt like it was his fault, that he shouldn't have kissed you when you were drunk even though you reassured him that it was okay and that you didn't remember. There shouldn't have been a reason for you to be avoiding him, but that's just how it felt for him lately.

One night, Mingyu brought you home again after you went drinking with the club, irritating San slightly. You stumbled into the apartment, leaving San with the taller man at the entrance to your apartment.

"Thanks for dropping her off," San said politely but curtly, trying to get Mingyu to leave.

"Oh, will we see you at the festival tomorrow?" Mingyu asked.

"Yeah."

Honestly, San wanted to be petty and say that he might not be able to, but he didn't want to risk you overhearing and telling him that he must come and tell Mingyu that he would definitely be there. At least with a simple 'yeah', San could get out of it if he really wanted to.

"Cool. See you later, then," Mingyu said with a smile before waving and leaving.

The fake smile on San's face dropped immediately the second the door closed. With a heavy sigh, he trudged over to the living room to see you lying on the couch face up, your arms outstretched for him.

"Sannie!" you giggled. "Come here."

San couldn't help but listen to you when you called him like that. He approached the couch but remained standing, making you frown. You sat up and pursed your lips, your cutesy act making San lose his goddamn mind.

"Are you mad at me?" you asked while sulking.

"No, I'm not," San replied and shook his head.

"Then gimme a hug!"

You knelt on the couch and hugged your roommate, San's arms delaying slightly when he hugged you back. You rubbed your face into his chest before letting out a happy sigh as you rested your head on his pillow of a chest.

"You're so comfy..." you murmured. "And you're so pretty... Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"

"Every time you drink," San rolled his eyes.

You leaned away from him— he was being short with you, and he knew that you knew that.

"Tell me what's wrong," you said as you cupped his cheek.

San grabbed your wrist lightly and moved your hand from his face. He would've entertained you a little more, but based on the developments of his relationship with you over the past couple of weeks, he was losing his patience rapidly.

"Nothing. You need to sleep," San replied.

"No, it's not nothing. Tell me."

San still refused to tell you anything. His patience completely wore out when you started chanting "tell me" over and over again to the point that he hoisted you over his shoulder, walked you to your room, dropped you on your bed, and turned off the lights before closing the door.

He wasn't going to make the mistake of indulging you while you were drunk out of your mind again.

Before he could get more than a few steps from your door, you opened it and stood in the threshold.

"San," you said, your voice wavering. "Why are you being mean to me?"

Well fuck. San never wanted to be the reason you fucking cried.

"I'm not— I'm sorry," San apologized sincerely to you.

Even though he apologized, tears started rolling down your face. San fully panicked and hugged you before you could start sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him back when he leaned back and cupped your face to dry your tears with his thumbs.

"Don't cry," San said softly. "You just need to sleep."

"Then don't dump me on the bed next time," you said while frowning.

San's thumb got a little too close to your eye, making you unintentionally wink at him, but the way your rosy cheek lifted slightly when you closed your eye made San's heart thump harder in his chest. Something so simple was enough to make him yearn for you even though you were right there in his arms.

"Sannie," your soft voice rang in his ear. "Can I tell you something?"

"What?"

"I know I'm tipsy, but I know that I'm not drunk enough to do anything I'll regret."

"What are you talking about?"

"I remember that night. I just didn't want to say anything to you because... I was afraid of what me kissing you would do to our friendship."

San was completely taken aback. So you were avoiding him— not because of what he did, but because of what you did.

"...Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I don't want you to hate me for doing this again."

You cupped his cheeks then brought his face to yours, your lips meeting his. San didn't know what to do at first— he did not want a repeat of what happened weeks ago, but he craved you so damn much that he needed you more than anything.

San wrapped his arms around you and carried you back into your room while still kissing you. He then laid you down on the bed— super gently this time— before laying right next to you, his lips meeting yours feverishly over and over again.

YOU ran out of the apartment the next morning. Even though San was sleeping right by your side, and you should've talked things through with him, you were really fucking late— drinking the night before an important event was such a horrible idea. Since you couldn't talk about it just yet, you decided you would send him a text so that he would know that you wanted to.

Technically speaking, you and San did talk about it that night in between kisses, but it was more like surface level shit instead of figuring out what the relationship between the two of you was at that point and what it could look like in the future. And, just like the last time, you didn't have sex with him. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't bummed.

"There you are! Took you long enough," Mingyu immediately started teasing you the second you ran up to your booth at the festival.

"Why didn't you cut me off while drinking last night?" you slapped his arm. "I'm hungover as fuck..."

"As long as you don't throw up on anyone, you'll be fine."

Immediately, you and your club members got to work setting everything up for your booth, your hangover quickly subsiding as your adrenaline pumped. You were so invested in the chaos of the festival that you didn't realize you completely forgot to text San.

Thankfully, you got some downtime when the president of the club told you to take a lunch break. You quickly left the booth and went off in search of a (different) food stall to grab your lunch from— your club was doing a food booth, and you wanted to eat anything but that.

"Hey, wait up!" you heard Mingyu holler from behind.

"You're on lunch break too?"

"Yep. Let's eat together," Mingyu said cheerfully as he grabbed your arm and whisked you into the crowd.

It was extremely crowded when you and Mingyu got to the food stalls, and you nearly lost sight of each other a couple times. So, Mingyu held your hand, and he waded through the crowd quickly. The two of you were able to get your food so quickly, in fact, that you had time to sit and eat comfortably and get to explore the rest of the festival before returning back to your booth.

"How's your hangover now?" Mingyu asked as the two of you sat on the grass to eat your food.

"Gone, but I think we were just so busy that I got over it," you admitted while laughing.

"Good, but I got you this just in case."

From his pocket, Mingyu produced a tiny container of painkillers, and he handed you the water bottle that he purchased along with his food.

"Oh, wow! Thank you!" you said happily as you accepted the items from him.

"Don't take it now— you need to eat something first."

"I know, Gyu, you don't need to lecture me."

"Just making sure."

You and Mingyu smiled at each other before digging into your lunches. You talked about God knows what, and as the conversation continued, Mingyu kept finding ways to make you laugh, your heart fluttering more and more with every joke he threw your way.

"Hey, can I try some of yours? You can try mine," Mingyu said after there was a tiny lull in the conversation.

"Oh, sure."

You were going to hand him your lunch so that he could try it himself, but instead he opened his mouth— he wanted you to feed him?

"Mingyu, just take my lunch," you said with a sigh.

"No. I want you to feed me," he refused.

"Really?"

"Come on, I got you painkillers and water. The least you could do is feed me."

"This feels like an extortion," you mumbled as you held out your fork.

Mingyu happily chomped down on the fork, the dumb smile on his face making you smile as well. While he chewed, he held out his food for you to take a bite, and you did. You did happily.

After finishing your food (and taking the God-sent painkillers), you and Mingyu still had some time to spare before you had to be back at your booth. The two of you walked alongside each other as you observed your peers booths, your hands brushing against each other every so often.

It wasn't until half way through your walk did Mingyu get frustrated with how frequently his hand brushed yours. He ended up wordlessly holding your hand as you continued through the festival. Thank God you can't feel someone's heartbeat while holding their hand, otherwise Mingyu definitely would've felt your heart racing.

"I have a question for you," Mingyu said softly.

"What is it?"

"What are you doing after the festival is over?"

Your heart nearly fell out of your chest when you realized that you completely forgot about San, that you completely forgot to text him. You bit your lower lip and responded, "Just going home..."

"Then, would it be alright if I asked you to hang out with me after the festival?"

Your mind was reeling. On one hand, you needed to talk to San about what happened, but on the other, you were having so much fun with Mingyu, and you wanted to continue the fun.

"I promise, I won't bite," Mingyu added, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Unless you want me to."

With a laugh, you shoved Mingyu away, the two of you continuing to laugh as you returned to your club's booth.

You didn't have time to think about anything after that. Your booth got insanely busy and it stayed at that level for hours— even after the sun completely set, your booth was packed with people. You were so busy, in fact, you didn't even realize your roommate was right in front of you until he grabbed your hand.

"Did you forget what I look like or something?" San asked jokingly.

"Oh my God, San! When did you get here?"

"I've been at the festival for a bit now. Do you have time to talk?"

Under the guise of a bathroom break, you and San went to an isolated end of the festival. You stood across from each other, the awkwardness heavy in the air. San was scratching the back of his neck while you crossed your arms over your chest— it was a chilly night, and you didn't have a jacket.

"You ran out this morning," San finally started.

"Yeah, sorry. I was running late, and then I wanted to text you, but our booth got super busy," you explained. "You saw what it was like in there."

"Yeah, I figured you'd be busy since you were busy this week planning. Nice work on the booth, by the way."

"Thanks, we worked hard."

"I know."

The conversation lulled. You didn't know how to bring up the events of the night before, and San didn't say anything either, so the awkwardness only got heavier. The wind ended up filling your conversation, and it also sent a shiver down your spine.

"Did you not bring a jacket?" San asked as he watched you shiver and rub your arm to warm up.

"No, I ran out that quickly," you said, your teeth chattering.

With a small smile on his face, San took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth from his body clung to the jacket, and it ended up warming you up faster.

"Thanks, San, but won't you get cold?"

"I was planning on heading home after talking to you, anyway... I guess we didn't really talk, did we?" San realized sheepishly.

"Yeah... Not really..."

God, it was even hard for you to get the words out. Maybe you needed some liquid courage before you had the conversation with him.

 "We, uh... We can talk when you get home."

"Alright. Get home safe, San," you nodded.

The two of you waved goodbye before San left, leaving you to return to the festival. After wearing San's jacket properly, you took a couple steps forward, only to see Mingyu standing before you.

"That was a pretty long bathroom break, don't you think?" he joked.

"Yeah, sorry. How long has it been?"

"Not that long. I was just messing with you."

"Gyu!" you let out a relieved laugh— you needed that after the tension between you and San earlier. "Cut it out. Let's get back to the booth."

You and Mingyu returned to the booth, and your club wrapped up business shortly thereafter. The booth breakdown and cleaning took a lot less time than anyone expected, so as soon as everyone was done, the entire club announced that you all would be going drinking. Before you could decline the invitation, you were whisked away to the local bar near campus.

Yet again, you forgot to text San. You wanted to tell him that you'd be home late, but every time you pulled out your phone to text him, someone distracted you. Everyone was trying to get you to drink heavily, but you only needed a light buzz to help you start this conversation with San, and if you were over the top drunk, there was no way in hell you were going to be able to have a sane conversation with him.

"Hey," Mingyu prodded your arm as he saw you chewing on your lower lip nervously. "You're not drinking as much as you normally do. Is everything okay? Is it the hangover?"

"N-No— well, maybe... I just don't want to drink too much tonight is all," you admitted to him.

"Wow, if only you were this responsible all the time, then we wouldn't have to worry about an insanely drunk version of you."

"Shut up!" 

You pushed Mingyu away while laughing, the man barely budging. If anything, he leaned in even closer to you and whispered in your ear, "I honestly want to get out of here. Come with me if you want to leave, too."

With that, Mingyu stood up. He turned back to look at you for a split second and held his hand for you to take, which you did. You both bid adieu to the rest of your drunken friends before leaving the bar.

As you walked into the night, Mingyu leaned closer to you and reminded you gently, "You still never told me your answer."

"To what?"

"Come hang out with me tonight. I promise I'll make it worth your time."

YOU couldn't help but notice that Mingyu had a really nice place. You were honestly a little shocked at how refined his taste was, only for him to tell you that the place came fully furnished. Even then, he was joking around with you, making you feel comfortable and welcome in his home.

You ended up sitting on his couch while he rustled through the kitchen. Wielding two glasses of water, Mingyu joined you on the couch. You took one of the glasses from him and nursed your water while Mingyu let out a groan of exhaustion, his head hitting the sofa cushion behind him.

"Thank God we're finally done," he said loudly. "That festival took everything out of me."

"Same," you agreed. "I never want to do this again!"

"You know we have to do this again next year, right?"

"Fuck!"

Mingyu laughed loudly, and his laugh was so contagious that you couldn't help but laugh as well. You set the water glass down and got a little more comfortable on his couch while turning to face him.

"You looked really cute in the apron, by the way," he commented.

"What, that old thing? Really?"

"Honestly, you could make anything cute since you yourself are very cute."

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You looked away shyly— even though his lines were so cheesy, you still loved the compliments, especially from him.

"I don't think you've ever called me cute before, Mingyu," you tried joking around with him. "What's gotten into you for you to say that so openly?"

"Hmm, it could be the alcohol, but I only had one beer..." he pondered. "I think I just wanted you to know. I don't think you hear it enough."

"Shut up," you giggled. "I hear it plenty."

"Are you sure? Because you're acting like you're hearing it for the first time," he teased.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"...Still, I want you to hear it. You're really cute."

"Stop it, Mingyu," you laughed.

"No, I need you to know that I think you're really cute."

Mingyu's fingers— you didn't even realize his hand was on your thigh— started rubbing light circles through the fabric of your pants. Your entire body flushed with excitement and desire. You started leaning towards him.

"I'm literally wearing leggings and the world's rattiest shirt because I didn't want to ruin any of my nice shirts."

"I told you, you can make anything cute because you're so cute."

"Yeah? You think I'm cute?"

"Yeah, I think you're super cute."

Mingyu moved his hand from your thigh to your ear, his fingers brushing your hair away before he ran his thumb along the ridge of your ear. Your ear felt like it was on fire when he did that, and heat surged through your body when you realized he was leaning in to kiss you. You met his kiss, your lips pressing against each other softly.

You couldn't help but giggle when he left another gentle peck on your lips because he was being so gentle, so careful with you.

"God, you're so cute," Mingyu breathed out when he heard you giggle.

His lips met yours a little more passionately. You reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled him a little closer before resting your hands on the back of his neck. The kisses only got more intense when his fingers moved from your ears to your hair, one hand holding the back of your head while the other held your waist. His fingers danced along the curve of your hip, and his hand messed up your hair further the more impatient he got with his kisses. His urgency made you giggle happily yet again, making him smile against your lips.

Mingyu ended up pulling you onto his lap, your knees on either side of him as you straddled him. Your giggles finally died down, but you kept smiling the more you kissed him because he was doing all the right things. He ran his hands from your thighs to your ass, up your back, and then back down along the curve of your waist. You were wearing the ugliest shirt known to mankind, but he really made you feel so cute and attractive in that moment.

Neither of you could seem to get enough of each other. His hands were starting to hold and squeeze your thighs, ass, and waist, while his breathing started hitching every so often the more passionately you kissed him. It certainly did not help when you cupped his face and kissed him while intentionally brushing your fingers along his ear.

"Nngh," Mingyu let out the tiniest noise that normally would've made you laugh, but you wanted him so badly at that point that the noise turned you on. "I... I want you."

"Good, because I want you too."

He exhaled happily, and finally, he started taking off your clothes. He took off your jacket and tossed it aside haphazardly. When he went to take your shirt off, he accidentally hooked his fingers in one of the holes and ripped right through your shirt.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry—"

"Gyu, I told you this was the rattiest shirt on Earth. I was going to throw it out anyway."

"So then you wouldn't mind if I did this..."

He grabbed your shirt at the collar, and with his sheer strength (not that he needed much of it because the shirt was seriously so worn down), he tore the shirt down the middle. You bit your lower lip, his simple action turning you on way more. He helped you get the shirt off before continuing to kiss you.

The articles of clothing came off one by one, Mingyu taking his sweet time with you because he wanted to relish every single moment. He had remained seated on the couch, and you were still straddling him. Before he could grab a condom, you got off the couch and sunk to your knees, his eyes widening. He suppressed a groan when you held his insanely massive cock, only for the groan to escape the second he felt your tongue lick the pre-cum off the tip of his cock. 

"Mmm, fuck, yes... Just like that," Mingyu groaned when you took him into your mouth slowly.

You couldn't take all of him just yet— you were still getting used to his size. You would go down on his cock, then resurface for air every time you got the tiniest bit further down. Mingyu was losing his mind the more you sucked his cock like that, his hands itching to run through your hair. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he throat fucked you, and he seemed to pick up on that when you felt him hold the back of your head.

"God, you feel— Oh! Oh, yes, cutie... You feel so fucking amazing," Mingyu said while choking back his moans.

Mingyu calling you cutie made you want to do more for him. So, you hollowed out your cheeks and slurped, making him fling his head back into the sofa cushions and grit his teeth as his eyelids fluttered. His hold on your head got looser the more he lost his sanity, and just before he came, you stopped.

"How could you?" Mingyu gasped, his voice high from the euphoria.

"I need you inside me, Gyu," you said as you stood up. "I don't think I can wait any longer."

"Alright, cutie. C'mere," Mingyu held out one hand for you while his other hand successfully fished a condom from his wallet.

As soon as he rolled the condom on, you straddled him again. You spread your folds and held his cock to line it up with your entrance before sinking onto his cock slowly. The second he was the slightest bit inside you, you held his shoulders and gripped tightly— you knew he was going to stretch you out, but you still weren't prepared for his size.

"Gyu," your voice wavered. "You're so fucking big..."

"I'm sorry, cutie. Does it hurt?" he asked, the tiniest hint of worry in his voice.

"A little bit..."

"Then let me distract you."

He held your face and kissed you softly, the pain immediately melting away the more you focused on the sweetness of his kisses. When your hold on him got lighter, he guided your waist downwards, making you sink further onto his cock.

"Just like that," he whispered. "You're doing so well."

When the entirety of his huge cock was inside you— you couldn't believe that he actually fit— you felt like he had filled you up. You felt like you were actually stuffed with him inside you.

"Good job, cutie," Mingyu praised as he kissed your temple. "Do you think you can start moving?"

You nodded. With Mingyu's hands guiding you, you started bouncing lightly on his lap, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls warming you up immensely. You felt his hips roll up into yours every so often, making the sensation of him inside you all the more better. But, you were still moving a little too slowly for both you and him, which you figured out when you felt a hot sigh on your neck.

"Lean forward for me, cutie. I'm going to help you out."

You did as he said, and immediately, you started moving faster. You cried out when his hands lifted and slammed your ass, the feeling of his cock nearly reaching your cervix and the insane speed he was moving you at compared to your slower one from earlier making white flood your vision. You couldn't even warn him— you came so fast when he sat you down on his cock just hard enough for him to actually hit your cervix. You buried your face in his neck and cried as your orgasm took control over you, your arms and thighs shaking.

You thought Mingyu was going to tease you, but instead, he flipped you onto your back and pinned you on the couch, his cock still inside you. His cock throbbed inside you, and you realized that when you clenched around his cock when you came, you nearly sent him to heaven and back with how tight you were. You were still moaning and screaming his name as he repeatedly rammed his cock into you, and you clawed at his back unknowingly as the pleasure consumed the two of you. His jaw was tense, and sweat rolled down his face and bare body as he fucked you hard. He was grunting and holding back moans as he fucked you, the sound of the couch squeezing drowning out his own little sounds.

Both hands on your waist, Mingyu fucked you wildly. You clung to his arms, your nails digging into his skin as he continued to be so rough with you. It wasn't until he hovered over you and had his hands planted firmly on either side of your head did his pace finally slow down. Your hands moved from his arms to the back of his neck, and you brought him closer to you to kiss him.

"Fuck," he gasped, cutting off your kiss. "I'm— Shit! Fuck!"

Mingyu's head fell into the crook of your neck as he came hard, the condom inside you filling up entirely. He remained inside you as he regulated his breathing, his thick chest rubbing against your nipples as inhaled. The friction on your nipples made you moan slightly, catching Mingyu's attention immediately.

"What, do you want me to give your breasts some attention too?" he joked.

"Shut up— Hnngh! Oh!"

Your back arched when he laid alongside you and held your breast. He twisted and toyed with your nipple, and when he finally pulled out, he lowered himself so he could suck on your now sore nipple.

"Gyu," you sighed out, the pleasure from him playing with your breasts starting to get to your head.

"Yes, cutie?"

"...Do you have another condom?"

Mingyu looked up at your flushed face, a huge grin spreading across his.

"God, you're so fucking cute! Of course I do."

"Then let's go again."

YOU woke up the next morning to see a singular text from your roommate. Usually, he would spam you to make sure you were okay, so the singular text really freaked you out.

"Gyu, I gotta get home. I totally forgot to tell my roommate I was going to spend the night here," you told the sleeping man next to you as you shook him awake.

"Cutie, this is so not cute of you," Mingyu grumbled.

"Seriously. I gotta go home."

"Then go..."

"I can't— you ripped my shirt last night."

Mingyu's eyes completely opened, and he laughed. He sat up and stretched while saying, "I totally forgot about that. Alright, I'll get up and give you a shirt."

And that's how you ended up wearing San's jacket and Mingyu's shirt home.

The second you got home, you walked into the apartment to see a very pissed San on the couch. When he heard you enter the living room, he stood up and walked towards you, the intensity of his actions making you take a couple steps back until your back was pressed against the wall.

"What the fuck happened to you last night?" San asked, his voice the scariest you'd ever heard it get.

"I—"

"You have no idea how fucking worried I was!"

At that point, you were fed up by the way San was talking to you, so you shot back, "You only sent me one text last night, and I'm sorry I missed it, but if you were so worried then you could've spammed me or called me like you normally do! Why are you being so pissy with me?!"

"I didn't want to bombard you because— We still haven't talked about anything, and I didn't want to overwhelm you!" San reasoned out but still with a booming voice.

"Why?!"

"You didn't text me in the morning, let alone tell me you were leaving the apartment, you didn't text me last night after the festival ended, and you didn't even text me that you were coming home this morning! I didn't know if you were mad at me or something!"

"Well, I'm not!"

"So then why didn't you text or call?!"

You went silent. There was nothing wrong with you sleeping with Mingyu, but you felt insanely guilty regardless. You looked down at your feet and heard San exhale deeply. He did his best to calm himself down before tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Where were you last—"

San cut himself off. You looked at him with wide eyes as he peeled his jacket off you to reveal Mingyu's shirt.

"You... You weren't wearing this last night... Whose shirt is this?" San asked quietly.

"Mingyu's," you answered in a pathetic voice.

"W-Why are you wearing his shirt?"

"Because he— I ripped mine," you quickly amended your words. "And I spent the night there..."

"Did... Uh... Did you sleep with him?"

There was no way in hell you were going to be able to lie to San.

"...Yes."

The guilt just piled on you. You didn't owe San a thing, and you weren't in a relationship with him or anything. All you did was kiss him, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like you were cheating on him or something.

"Take it off. Right now."

"Come on, San, it's just a shirt—"

"Take. It. Off."

"Okay, geez, since it bothers you so much, then I will. Let me just go to my room—"

You tried to brush past him, but he stopped you before you could. He wordlessly began taking the shirt off you himself— when he said right now, he really meant right now.

"What the fuck, San? Why are you—"

This time, to get you to shut up, San pulled the shirt off you and kissed you, your brain melting immediately. He held your body tightly, firmly, pressing his chest against you and you into the wall. Your fingers found the roots of his hair and tugged lightly as he made out with you so intensely that you thought your legs were going to give out.

"San— Ah! Mmm, San, wait," you tried to get him to stop when you felt him grope your ass.

"What? What is it? What am I waiting for now?" San asked with slight annoyance, his thin patience ready to snap.

"I just think I should shower..." you whispered. "Before we go further..."

San let your words sink in, and after a moment of letting them process, San let you go and moved out of the way.

When you went to take your shower, you didn't know what to expect. You had never seen San act that way before with anyone, and he wasn't the type to get jealous, so seeing the jealousy in his eyes made your body tremble. Honestly, after sleeping with Mingyu the night before, you thought that maybe you shouldn't do anything with San, but considering fucking San was all you could dream about since the first time you kissed him weeks ago, you couldn't deny yourself the opportunity— especially when it was being offered to you on a silver plate.

You emerged from the shower, and before you could even step foot in your room, you heard San pipe up from his room, "Don't bother. Come here."

Clad in your towel, you shuffled to San's room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed when you entered. You watched as his eyes scanned you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, your body flushing with heat the more he stared at you like you were a piece of meat.

"Come. Sit here," San said while patting the space next to him after a moment of silence passed

"Can't I dry off first...?"

"I'll help you dry off. Come here."

You felt your face get hot. Maybe it was the tone he was taking— he wasn't being curt with you like he was before, but he wasn't being his normal self either. His voice was slightly deeper, more sensual, hotter, and the glint in his eyes made you want to melt before him.

You sat down on the bed next to him, his hand immediately moving to rest on the bed and right behind you, but he had yet to touch you. He inched closer to you, and your body tensed in anticipation, but he was still not touching you, and the slower he moved, the more insane it drove you.

"Tell me something," he whispered, his breath flitting past your cheek. "Do you want to talk now or later?"

"I, um," you gulped nervously, unsure of what to do because you knew that you should talk to him, but the way he was turning you on was too much for you to bear, and you desperately wanted him.

"I need to know..."

"...Later. I need you now."

Finally, San touched you when he wrapped his hand around your neck lightly and brought you in, his lips enveloping yours almost immediately. He was kissing you hungrily, like he could eat you up, and when he pressed his fingers into your neck slightly every so often, it just added to the euphoria. You moaned into the kisses, your hands grabbing at his sweater and pulling him closer.

The towel wrapped around your body slipped when you grabbed at the man more. The second the towel fell, San's hand found your breast, and he began kneading it with his large palm. You could barely focus on kissing him when you felt his fingers rub against your nipples repeatedly, the sensation turning you on faster.

"And," San breathed out in between kisses. "You're okay with doing this?"

"San, I'm more than okay with this," you sighed out.

San pinned you down on his bed and knelt above you. You watched through hazy eyes as he stripped down to nothing. You'd seen his chest and abs plenty of times because he had a horrible habit of wandering around the apartment shirtless, but what you weren't expecting was his thick cock. At first you didn't think his cock was that long, but when he started stroking it, you stood corrected.

Leaning over to his nightstand, San grabbed a condom and tore it open before tossing it on your chest.

"Put it on for me," he instructed (rather kindly).

You sat up and placed the condom on the tip of his cock. Then, using your mouth, you rolled the condom on. San was definitely not expecting you to do that, and when he saw you do that while looking up at him with big eyes, his entire body reacted.

Grabbing your arms, San pinned you on his bed once again, his one hand holding your wrists above your head. He left wet, sloppy kisses along your neck, collarbones, and breasts while simultaneously rubbing his cock along your folds. Every time the tip of his cock rubbed against your clit, your toes curled, and your back arched, pushing your body closer to his.

"Sannie," you panted, using your nickname for him. "Stop teasing me."

"Mmm, I think you can wait," San hummed. "You made me wait all night, after all."

San was fucking punishing you by edging you, and it was driving you in-fucking-sane. You couldn't do anything with your hands because he had them trapped above your head, and your legs were stuck because his knees were trapping your legs. The only thing you could do was writhe below him, your hips rolling towards his cock and trying desperately to get him inside you.

You wanted to scream at him when he moved his cock away, but you didn't because you felt two of his thick fingers enter you rashly. He fingered you quickly and roughly, the sounds of your pussy squelching along with your erotic moans filling up the room. Tears started filling up your eyes when he curled his fingers inside you as if he was looking for your G-spot. The second he did find it, your body convulsed. You let out a choking cry as you came, your arousal covering his hand and his sheets.

"Ah, there we go," San murmured. "You feel good?"

You whimpered and nodded as you were unable to formulate words.

"I'll make you feel a whole lot better now, baby."

Baby. That was the first time that word had ever left the man's mouth in the time you knew him, and it sent your heart on a sprint. The second the word settled on you, San's cock was raring to go. He rubbed the tip against your folds one final time before pushing it through, his cock spreading you painfully wide.

"Oh, fuck! San— It hurts!" you cried as you tried to free your hands from his grasp.

"Sorry, sorry," San apologized and immediately pulled out.

San finally let go of your wrists, allowing you to hold onto his forearms. He watched you visibly relax before kissing your cheek and saying, "I'm going to go again. I need you to breathe and relax for me, okay?"

You bit your lower lip and nodded. San brushed your hair out of your face and let you prepare for a second longer before placing himself at your entrance. The second you exhaled, San entered you again, and this time, it didn't hurt so bad. That being said, tears still slipped out of your eyes when you felt him fill you up slowly but surely.

"Good job, baby," he whispered and kissed the tears off your cheek.

You froze for a split second— you definitely had déjà vu when he said that, but he didn't give you time to sit and ponder because he started moving. You ended up wrapping your legs around his slim waist and your arms over his broad shoulders as he fucked you at a rough but steady pace.

"You're so fucking tight," San bit out. "Just like I imagined."

The way San's hips rolled into yours made you feel all sorts of ways. He was there, and he was inside you, but you felt like you couldn't get enough of him. You pulled him down and kissed him while he fucked you steadily, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you made out with him roughly. He sucked on your lower lip and tugged upwards, making your heart flutter a little more for him.

You couldn't help but feel disappointed when he pulled out, only for the slight disappointment to immediately vanish when you heard him say, "Turn around for me, baby. I want to see you on your hands and knees."

Trembling— you didn't realize that San's cock would completely demolish your body until you tried to move— you managed to get on your hands and knees. You felt San's hand grab your ass and squeeze it. The second he did, you arched your back, making the man chuckle.

"You liked that, huh?" San teased.

You for sure thought San was going to smack your ass after that, but instead, he grabbed the other cheek and did the same thing, both of his hands gripping your ass. He kneaded your ass until he himself lost his patience. He quickly shoved his cock into you— it didn't hurt now that you were used to his size— and immediately held onto your waist.

San fucking you from behind was exhilarating to say the least. The way his waist made contact with your ass, and the way he held your waist while he railed you into tomorrow made you feel so fucking good. You felt so good, in fact, that your arms gave out on you, your chest pressing into the bed while your arms laid flat alongside you.

The sudden change in angle was too much for San. He buried his cock deep inside you with one final thrust, a groan emanating from his entire being as he came. When he thrust into you that time, though, he hit your cervix, making you cum as well. You cried loudly while San moaned deeply as the two of you came together, and after the high of the orgasm wore off, he pulled out and threw the condom away while you melted into a puddle on his bed.

"Fuck," you mumbled as you laid down on his bed, San laying down in front of you. "That was amazing..."

"Yeah? Good."

He kissed your forehead before wrapping his arms around you, your face meeting his slightly sweaty chest. Being surrounded in his sweat only made you realize that, dammit, you had to shower again.

"This time, when you shower," San started— he read your mind somehow. "I'll join you."

"The fuck?"

"Yeah. Let's save water, baby. Let's reduce our water bill."

"Fuck off," you said with a laugh before hugging him closer.

YOU didn't get to talk to San about what the hell your relationship was. You spent the rest of that day sleeping, and the day after, the two of you had classes— you weren't avoiding each other, but neither of you had the time to sit down and talk.

Plus, to make matters more complicated, Mingyu would flirt with you whenever he saw you. You didn't mind that he was flirting with you (because if San didn't want a relationship, then you could have one with Mingyu because you did like Mingyu too), but you felt a little weird that you were kind of leading him on.

"Hey, so, I was thinking," Mingyu leaned towards you and whispered. "After the club meeting..."

The whole club was in the club room discussing future events, and after the festival, there was an influx of members, so you and Mingyu resorted to standing on the side and leaning against the waist high cabinets. As he got closer to you, his hand slid towards your back, and he tiptoed his fingers along your spine.

"We should go back to my place."

He placed his palm flat against your back, and you nearly jumped out of your skin feeling his hot touch. Also, the fact that his lips were dangerously close to your ear made you extremely paranoid about the rest of the people in the room.

"Mingyu, can we not do this right now?" you asked through gritted teeth.

"Everyone's focused on the presentation, don't worry about it, cutie."

"Oh, then I think we should focus on the presentation, too."

You pushed Mingyu's face away, making the man chuckle and finally lean away from you. He leaned away, but his hand was still on your back, and his fingers began tracing patterns on your back. You couldn't focus on the meeting at all after that.

Before Mingyu got the chance to bring up the idea he had during the meeting, the e-board of your club announced that they all wanted to go drinking— how you and your club didn't have liver failure yet was beyond you— so the two of you were dragged to happy hour.

This time, you made sure to text San before you started drinking. You told him that you'd be out with your club and that you were at a popular restaurant on campus (someone managed to convince the president to go to a place where you could also get food).

san: look up

You looked up, and sitting at the bar with a friend was your roommate. He waved at you briefly before going back to his phone.

san: lmk when you're done with dinner san: we can head home together

You replied with the okay emoji, and he sent an emoji that made you laugh. You put your phone away happily knowing that you and San were at least okay.

"Who're you texting for you to be smiling like that?" Mingyu asked as he took the seat next to you.

"My roommate," you responded.

"Huh."

You looked over to see a slight look of displease on Mingyu's face before it suddenly vanished and got replaced by a sultry smile.

"So, after dinner tonight, why don't we go back to my place?" Mingyu picked up where you both left off.

"I don't— Oh..."

You were going to decline him, but when you felt his large hand cup your thigh and began rubbing it, you lost the words.

"What do you say, cutie?"

You didn't answer because you really didn't know what to say. Plus, his hand was nearing your crotch, and your brain was swimming with all of the dirty thoughts in the world, so there was no way for you to say anything coherent.

Mingyu seemed to be having the time of his life turning you on like that. He was still talking to the rest of the club members like normal and getting food and drinks while you were all sorts of hot and bothered. Your club mates thought you were getting drunk because every time they tried to talk to you, it took a while for you to respond, so they cut you off before you could even start drinking that night.

"Mingyu, please," you gasped and tried to push his hand away. "Not now."

"Alright, so later then," Mingyu finally let go of your thigh and winked at you.

Damn, he really was going to get his way, wasn't he?

Dinner was dragging on for a while, and you couldn't leave until you settled the bill, so you tried to see if you could talk to a club mate and tell them you'd pay them later, but they were so caught up in their own world that you couldn't talk to them.

Thankfully, San ended up approaching your table— he finished his dinner with his friend and was waiting for several minutes to see if you were done.

"Hey, you ready to go?" San asked you.

"Oh, uh—"

"Hey, San. How are you?" Mingyu interjected and talked to your roommate.

"Mingyu! I'm fine, how are you?"

"I'm good. So, listen... I'm taking her home tonight."

You froze. The chatter from your table slowly died down as the tension between San and Mingyu rose.

"Uh, I don't think so. We both agreed that we'd walk home together," San argued.

"Huh, because I remember making plans with her to go back to my place later tonight, so..."

Before the argument could actually start, you stood up and grabbed both men's arms and called out to the club, "Hey, let me know what Gyu and I owe, okay? We're heading out! Bye!"

You dragged the two outside and stood between them so that nothing could happen. Granted, you knew they wouldn't start swinging fists at each other because they weren't the type to do that, but it didn't hurt to be safe.

"I think you need to give us some answers, cutie," Mingyu said in a low tone that sent shivers down your spine.

"Okay, when we got to the restaurant, I texted San, and he told me that he was also there, so said we should head home together, but then you started coming onto me, and... Yeah..."

"So are you saying I shouldn't have come onto you?"

"No, I'm saying I—"

You were about to tell Mingyu that you needed him to fuck you, but you realized that San was standing right behind you, and you didn't need to deal with his wrath either.

"Oh," Mingyu smirked. "Got it."

Yeah, you were going to have to deal with San's wrath.

"You can't be serious right now—" San scoffed and rolled his eyes before you covered his mouth.

"Let's just go home, okay? We can talk about it later," you started pushing San in the direction of your apartment.

"I think we should all talk about it right now," Mingyu interjected as he grabbed your shoulder.

"Gyu, I'm tired—"

"If you think I'm going to just let you go without an explanation, you're crazy."

Next thing you knew, you were sitting in between a very annoyed Mingyu and a very annoyed San, the two of them glaring daggers at each other.

"I can't believe you're in my apartment," San said with a frown.

"It's not just your apartment, dude. It's her apartment too," Mingyu pointed out. "Besides, I was going to get here eventually."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Alright! Alright, calm down," you immediately put your hands on San's shoulders to calm him down, Mingyu eyeing you as you patted San's arms.

"Hey, remember when I asked you if anything was going on between you and your roommate a couple of weeks ago?" Mingyu asked you while poking your arm. "Did you lie to me?"

"No, I didn't— Nothing happened—"

"Nothing happened? You freaking kissed me—"

"San, shut up," you bit out and covered his mouth with your hand before he could go further.

"So you did lie to me?" Mingyu looked like a hurt puppy dog. "I thought we were friends."

"We are! I just— It was more complicated back then," you sighed.

"Yeah, right—"

"San, shut the fuck up! I'll explain," you slapped his mouth lightly.

"So what's the truth?"

"Okay, a couple of weeks ago, I was really drunk— Don't!" you stopped San before he could say something stupid about your drinking habits. "And I kissed him, but the next morning, I lied and told him I didn't remember anything. So, when I told you, Gyu, that nothing happened between San and I, it was just a continuation of that lie."

"Oh... Okay, that's fine," Mingyu smiled and leaned back.

"Huh?"

"Well, if you lied about not remembering, it means that you didn't want to kiss him, right?"

"No, that's not—"

"Dude, she lied about it to protect our friendship," San interrupted. "Not because she didn't want to kiss me."

"Okay, whatever you need to tell yourself, little guy."

"Excuse me?"

"Little guy. You know. 'Cuz you're short."

You buried your face in your hands when you felt San get off the couch and heard him yell, "You're just freakishly tall!"

"Which also means you're short!"

"Both of you sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!" you ordered the two of them.

Reluctantly, they both sat down, but the heavy tension remained. It only got worse when you heard San grumble under his breath but loud enough for both you and Mingyu to hear, "She made out with me twice, asshole."

"Okay, but that means nothing to me," Mingyu scoffed. "I slept with her."

"God..." you buried your face in your hands again.

"Yeah, I know," San rolled his eyes. "You're not special."

"What?"

If only the couch could swallow you whole.

"I said you're not special—"

"No, hold on— You slept with her too?" Mingyu asked in complete disbelief.

"Yeah, I did."

"Lord..." you groaned and buried your face further into your hands.

A silence swept over the apartment, and the tension got so thick, you could cut a butter knife into it. You truly thought both men were going to be done with you, think you're a slut, and tell you to get the fuck out of your own apartment. You sighed and placed your hands on your knees, and just as you were about to get up, Mingyu spoke.

"Okay, so, if that's the case... Cutie," the fact that Mingyu still called you by the nickname he gave you did not bode well for you. "Who fucked you better?"

"What?!"

"Who was better?" Mingyu asked again as if you couldn't hear him. "Me or your roommate?"

"I— I— Help," you stammered.

"She's not going to answer that because she shouldn't have to," San nearly spat at the other man.

"Oh, shut up. I know you wanna know, too."

San actually listened to Mingyu and shut up— he did want to know.

"Who?" San asked you in a tiny voice.

"God, what the fuck, you guys?! Just stop!" you finally put your foot down and got off the couch. "Can we just... Do this later?"

"See? She doesn't want to say because she knows I'm better," Mingyu leaned towards San now that you weren't in the middle to keep them apart from each other.

"Shut the fuck up. She's trying not to hurt your feelings, asshole," San leaned forward as well, both men ready to attack each other (although, to you, it looked like a cat and a dog fighting).

"Stop!" you pushed both men from each other again and sat between them once more. "Stop fighting—"

"Then tell us who is better."

"I— I don't— Ugh! Look, I don't remember, okay?" you said with a huff of frustration. "I don't know who is better, so just drop it."

Surprisingly, they dropped it— at least you thought they did. They moved closer to you, one man wrapping his arm around your waist, the other grabbing your arm and thigh, sandwiching you between them.

"Then, we'll just have to fuck you again."

"And you can tell us who's better after."

Before you even had time to process what either of them were saying, Mingyu grabbed your face and started kissing you. Refusing to lose, San took a different route. He sank off the couch and knelt in front of you. He held your knees and opened your legs up before rubbing circles on your clothed clit with his thumb. You couldn't help but moan when you felt San's touch, your entire body reacting to him.

San hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them off you, your panties still clinging to your waist. He resumed rubbing circles on your clit before bringing his face between your legs and licking a stripe over your panties. You tried to close your legs, but San's strength kept one leg in place while his shoulder blocked the other. He pulled your panties to the side before licking your cunt up and down, his tongue gliding through your folds. You ran your fingers through San's hair and pulled in attempt to get him to slow down, but with every tug, San only got more reckless.

"Cutie, pay attention to me, too," Mingyu whispered to you before his tongue dove into your mouth.

Mingyu took your other hand and put it over his crotch, making you feel exactly how hard he got. While you made out with him, you started massaging his cock through his pants, his breath hitching when you squeezed it just right. Truthfully, with the way San was eating you out, you didn't think you had the strength to even hold onto his hair, but you managed to both keep tugging on roots and pull Mingyu's cock out of his pants.

"Fuck," Mingyu mumbled before sharply inhaling. "Oh, God..."

He stopped kissing you and stood up, your eyes barely following him as San used that opportunity to suck sweetly on your clit. Mingyu stripped down and rubbed his insane cock a couple times while nearing your mouth.

"Suck this for me, won't you, cutie?"

You licked your lips before taking Mingyu's cockhead into your mouth, the man immediately shuddering the second he felt your lips. You heard him exhale through grit teeth as you took more of him in. He held the back of your head, but he didn't move you— he just kept his hand planted on you while you moved and occasionally gagged on his length.

San, meanwhile, decided to slip one of his fingers into your cunt, his tongue flicking your sore bud rapidly. He fingered you slowly at first, but every time he heard you slurp Mingyu's cock, he got faster. He added a second finger to the mix before shoving them in you roughly and rapidly, the knot in your stomach tightening at an exponential rate. It was when he added the third finger did you take Mingyu out of your mouth to cry loudly and cum all over San's fingers.

You didn't see it, but there was a slightly triumphant smile on San's face that immediately disappeared when Mingyu guided your head back to his cock. When he felt your hands on his pelvis, Mingyu started throat fucking you, your gagging sounds only getting louder. Saliva started to drip from the corners of your mouth the harder he fucked your mouth, and every so often, he would let you breathe, the thickest snail trail connecting his cock to your mouth.

The sight of you looking completely fucked out by Mingyu's cock was a little too much for him to handle. He let you go and watched you through darkened eyes as your chest moved heavily every time you breathed. Before he got the chance to touch you, though, San— who took off his own clothes— ran his hands up your shirt and bra and went for your breasts.

"How do you feel, baby?" San asked in a gentle voice.

"M-More, Sannie..." you whined.

"Okay, baby, I got you."

San helped you out of the rest of your clothes and tossed them aside while Mingyu sat back down on the couch and nudged your upper body away from him so that you were propping yourself up on your elbows. San brushed your hair out of your face and pet your hair before holding his own cock up to your mouth. He didn't even have to say anything— you opened your mouth automatically for him and started sucking.

"Good girl," San praised as he sighed with pleasure. "That's my baby."

Mingyu had rolled on a condom by this time and was already playing with your cunt when you started sucking San's cock. When he heard San praise you, Mingyu rubbed his cock along your folds before entering you slowly, his cock spreading you open. He groaned softly before bottoming out, making you moan on San's cock.

San's hips rolled towards you as he steadily got more impatient seeing Mingyu fucking you from behind. Mingyu was moving at a slower pace, but San could see that he wanted to go faster and that you wanted more based off the way you were gyrating your hips. He only got more irritated when he saw Mingyu hook his arm under your leg and pull it up and towards his chest. Your cunt was swallowing Mingyu's cock so perfectly, and if Mingyu jerked his hips up just right, his cock would bulge out slightly.

Not only was his cock bulging, but it was also going so deep inside you that you felt your high building again. You took San out of your mouth and turned to face Mingyu while whimpering for more.

"Gyu," you cried. "Harder, please—!"

Mingyu didn't need to be told twice. He rammed his hips into yours, little grunts leaving his chest with every thrust. You reached for his head and ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand grabbing the couch for stability. You were biting your lower lip hard— so hard, in fact, that you were about to make yourself bleed. You would've bled if San hadn't tilted your head towards him and kissed you. He sucked and nibbled on your lower lip while Mingyu continued to fuck you from behind.

The tension within you snapped, and you felt yourself squirting, but Mingyu just kept thrusting through the fluid, soaking you, him, and the couch up.

"Mingyu— Fuck! I'm cum— Ah! Cumming!" you cried while trying to push him away.

Finally, he pulled out, letting you finish in peace. Your entire body trembled as you squirted for what felt like an eternity, and it certainly did not help when Mingyu drove two of his thick fingers into you and fingered you roughly, getting you to cum again. You grabbed at his arm to get him to let up, but Mingyu was strong, and he wanted you to cum until you saw all the stars.

As soon as Mingyu's fingers left your body, San turned you around so that you were pinning Mingyu on the couch before rolling on his own condom. Your chest rubbed against Mingyu's while your ass was high in the air, and you buried your face in the nook of Mingyu's neck the second you felt San's thick cock rub between your asscheeks.

"How are you feeling, cutie?" Mingyu murmured as he ran his hands along your waist and back.

"Gyu— Oh! Oh, fuck!" you cried when San's cock entered you, making you unable to finish your thoughts.

You clung to Mingyu's shoulders as San rut into you, his hands pulling your waist into his cock as he fucked you. You cried out with every thrust, your cunt still recovering from Mingyu fucking you rough and making you cum hard. You were breathing hard and heavily as San's cock filled you up and spread you wide, and you gasped when you felt his hand make contact with your ass.

"Sannie— Oh! Good! Feels so good," you choked out when he spanked you again.

"I didn't know you liked things like that, cutie," Mingyu teased you.

You whined and nodded, your body lurching when San smacked your ass once more.

"What about this?" Mingyu asked as he ran his fingers down your face and to your lips. "Do you like things like this?"

Mingyu stuck his fingers in your mouth, and you immediately started sucking. He bit his lower lip and stared at you hungrily, your heart thumping at the sight. He took his fingers back and brought your head down to kiss him. Your tongue danced with his as he kissed you ferociously, his canine occasionally scratching your lips lightly.

San leaned forward as his thrusts sped up, making your back arch and your chest lower onto Mingyu's, your cries getting louder. The second his cock rubbed against your G-spot, you saw white, and you came, your legs shaking as you screamed in pleasure. San pulled out and spread your ass cheeks, letting you squirt all over the couch and Mingyu's, yours, and his legs.

"Oh.. My God..." you panted while looking back at San.

San chuckled and smoothed out your hair before leaving a fluttering kiss on your temple. The moment was very brief because next thing you knew, Mingyu had turned your attention back to him when he rubbed his cock against your clit then stuff himself inside you.

"Oh, cutie, you're not off the hook just yet," Mingyu tsked. "Don't you think I should get to cum too?"

"Yeah, he's got a point," San added as he prodded his own cock into your already full hole.

"Sannie, no, don't," you started panicking when you felt him start to push his way through. "You won't fit!"

"Just take a deep breath, baby. You can fit both of us," he promised you.

You listened to his soothing voice and inhaled. As you exhaled, San pushed his cock through. Sure, he fit, but you still screamed when you felt both men's big, throbbing cocks inside you. Tears filled your eyes and trickled down your face as San bottomed out, both men wincing at how tight you were with both of them inside.

"I bet you I can last longer," Mingyu challenged San.

"Keep dreaming," San shot back.

You would've smacked the two of them silly if you weren't absolutely losing your mind in that moment. You actually found the words to yell at them, but before you could get them out, the two of them started moving. You felt like your insides were going to get pulled out by the sheer force of their cocks rubbing inside you.

When Mingyu rammed his hips upwards, you felt his cock bulge in you, making you cry loudly; and when San snapped his waist against yours, you felt your arms and legs nearly give out. They were moving slowly, but they were moving so powerfully that you felt every single movement they made vibrate through your entire body.

You don't know who did it, but stars rapidly accumulated in your vision, and you clenched around both men as you came yet again. Your crying moans filled the room, and they were accompanied by both Mingyu and San groaning loudly. When you clenched around their cocks, neither one of them could hold back anymore. They shoved their cocks deep inside you and came loudly, the three of you moaning, groaning, and crying in pleasure.

San pulled out first, and his labored breathing died down when he filled up his condom entirely. Mingyu slipped his cock out shortly thereafter and sighed heavily as his body fully relaxed below you. 

"Look at you all fucked out, cutie," Mingyu chuckled as he cupped your face.

"Mmhmm," you mustered out while nuzzling your face into his large palm.

"Hey, now. Don't go making your decision just yet," San, after throwing out his condom, returned to the living room and helped you up to your feet.

You collapsed into San's chest and clung to him, his strong arms holding you up.

"I think she should make the decision now that it's fresh in her mind," Mingyu argued with San yet again.

"Stop," you mumbled. "Don't make me choose..."

"You kind of have to, baby," San whispered.

"Can't I just have both of you?" you whined.

Both Mingyu and San looked at each other with slight surprise.

"You couldn't handle us both this one time, so how are you going to handle both of us for the rest of your life?"

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[onlyswan]

summary: in which there is never enough time to be in love but jungkook is a 24/7 lover. (part one)

idol!jk x afab!reader / fluffy fluff with a dash of angst / word count: 3.6k

warnings/content: jungkook takes a day off and surprises oc <3 ; he's veryyy touchy; he gives oc's boobie a lil bite lol this guy ; s*xual innuendos; one (1) spank; oc comforts him :(; bam is home too!!; family is complete

→ in which masterlist!

note: smth short and sweet so i can recover from dreamboat loool missed my babies sm <3 as always reblog and/or feedback is very much appreciated! <3

p.s. i'm also redoing my iw taglist so pls comment/send an ask if you want to be (re)/added!

—

“baby? i’m home.”

you’re confident to say that you’d never mistake jungkook’s voice for anyone else’s. and on that note, you must be dreaming of him— the voice of an angel, the calloused palms cupping your cheeks… the audible and damp kisses delicately being peppered all over your face. everything feels so real. too real. just like how it used to be.

it hasn’t been long since you last saw him. you communicate and meet whenever it’s possible, no matter how short the time he is allowed to dedicate. still, you miss him all the time, everyday. you keep telling yourself it’s not that bad. time is passing by faster than you feared. but this whole set-up is foreign and daunting. and you miss him. you miss him all the time. that must be why you’re dreaming. 

when you open your eyes in the morning, you’ve come to expect nothing more than the view of the plain white ceiling, or the sunlight peeking from behind the curtains. 

so why are you gawking at jungkook’s face?

he smiles from ear-to-ear, bunny teeth and crinkles around his eyes— you can’t be mistaken. it’s him. it feels as though your heart has been shocked and revived. 

“jungkook!” you gasp.

you startle your own self when you abruptly throw your arms around him. he tries to hold you up, but you’re far too ecstatic for your own good, inexplicable joy thrumming in your veins and fireworks bursting in your ribcage. you squeal and jump up and down on the bed like a little kid on christmas morning; jungkook hugs you back tighter than he has ever done before, protecting you from the fall and crash.

“oh my god, you’re here! you’re here!”

“yes, i’m here-” he laughs in amusement. “ow shit, settle down- wow, it’s so early. why are you so energetic-”

“i missed you!” you briefly pause for oxygen. “so much! i’m never letting go of you again!” 

“wow!” he makes a dramatic wheezing sound. “that much, baby? you missed me that much?” 

“that much!” 

you draw back with a pout, just enough so you can look at each other, nodding your head probably too fast— you’re almost dizzy. adrenaline tide calming into waves, you’re catching your breath.

are you certain that this is not your imagination playing tricks on you?

“you’re here…” you slowly say. it’s only registering to your whiplashed brain. there is barely any feeling in your arms as you touch his face, an attempt at separating wishful thinking and reality. “why are you here?”

“why else?” he grins toothily. “because you said you were missing me.” 

your attempt at forming words is rudely interrupted. he steals a kiss, this thief… hard and hungry, keeping you in place by his palm cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. 

he pulls away with a satisfied hum, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. “and because i was missing you more.” 

for a moment, you gaze at each other in silence. you’re still neck deep in disbelief and euphoria. that kiss took your breath away. under the circumstances, you shall yield and admit that he misses you more. he requests for developed photos of you when you come visit. that’s something you never imagined you’d have to do. 

he tries to tame your messy hair, smoothing it down until he’s holding your cheeks lovingly. “i mean, what else was i supposed to do? i miss waking up to this pretty face everyday.” 

you pucker your lips in response, demanding for a kiss. this earns a chuckle from him before he grants your wish. an unintelligible noise of joy escapes your mouth as you jump and hug him again. it is shortly followed by a yelp when he whisks you off the bed without warning, spinning you ‘round and ‘round… ‘round… and ‘round… and…

your laughter soon transforms into horror. 

“jungkook!” you scream with your eyes squeezed shut and your legs curled around his waist. “okay! stop it! i’m getting dizzy!” 

the crazy bastard keeps on giggling as if he doesn’t hear a thing. you always expect these reunions to be so emotional, but when jungkook is here, it feels as though he never left.  

“jungkook!” 

you hook your leg around his, causing the two of you to collapse on the soft mattress. you land on top of him with a whimper. you breathe out a sigh, relieved that the nausea-inducing ride is over.

“that was fun.” he speaks next to your ear; the sensation makes you squirm. 

“it was,” you push yourself up to search for more air, a little sweaty after yours and jungkook’s hyperness took control of your bodies. “for the first five seconds.” 

you’re now properly straddling him, ass on his crotch. it’s accidental, but nothing new. nay, comfortable. this level of proximity won’t feel like intimacy with somebody else. goddamn, you missed your boyfriend so much. 

a big, sleepy yawn zaps your attention from him. you cover your face with both hands, wandering into the darkness for a little while. you find that your mind is devoid of any thought. perhaps you’re more overwhelmed than you let on. 

“missed this view too…” he reveals amidst the haze, a distinct change in the tone of his voice. 

there they are— the butterflies in his stomach, slaves to you and only you. he breathes through his parted lips as he caresses your thighs with tenderness bleeding from his fingertips, your skin so smooth and soft in contrast to his calloused palms. his lips curve into a drunken smile when you graze his greedy hands, as though granting them permission, before they slip inside the magenta velvet of your night dress. the material bunches over his forearms as he reaches for your hips. it leaves almost nothing to the imagination (in his case: memory). his attention is stolen by your cotton panties. light taupe. decorated by white polka dots. 

“this one’s new.” he comments.

you peer down to figure out what he meant. right, he’s never seen this before. “surprise! you like it?”

“yes, it’s cute.” he toys with the little ribbon at the center of the waistband. “you rarely get this color.”

“thanks. i think my taste is changing.”

“really?”

“mhmm…” 

his hands venture up to your waist, kneading at the flesh and reacquainting with the feel of you. he’s been pissed off at the thought of forgetting what it feels like to touch you, knowing your body like the back of his hand. he hasn’t been away from you for extended periods of time since their last tour. that was years ago. 

for maximum comfort, he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “let’s move here.” he carries you with him, back comfortable leaning against the headboard, while you remain sitting pretty on his lap. “bam was sleeping on my side of the bed when i arrived.”

“huh…?” you blink. 

“you didn’t know?”

you shake your head innocently, a tad distracted by your eyes roaming his naked torso. he looks absolutely ravishing as ever. did something already change from the last time you saw him? 

“i tucked him into his bed last night.”

you visited bam at the training facility after work yesterday, but he kept trying to follow you as you were leaving. your fragile heart caved and you brought him home for the weekend. you texted jungkook about it but he didn’t respond; as much as that made you sad, you figured he was just tired or he used his phone time to talk to his family. 

you spent the whole night playing with bam and watching his favorite dog entertainment channel on youtube. the house wasn’t dead silent for once. you fell asleep together on the couch until you woke up at 2am and tucked him and yourself into your respective beds. it was easy to fall back to sleep after, but it felt weird that you didn’t need an audiobook or hours of calming sounds of nature. 

you’re not whining. there have been a lot of sunny and happy days. you have wonderful people in your life who act as your support system in their own unique ways, but jungkook and bam… they’re your family. you made your peace with no longer having one, but now that you’ve built your own, having to be apart from them makes your heart ache. 

“did he sneak in to sleep next to you? he does that now?” he makes a surprised face. “what’s this? i’m so jealous of him!”

a pinch in your heart. 

you try your best to conceal a frown, but your poor choice of words paints your disappointment. “you’re not-” you avoid his eyes. “staying the night?”

“yah, you don’t have to look so sad. i can stay, baby.”

“you can?” your face lights up. 

“for you, i’ll make it happen.” he cheeses, affectionately tapping the tip of your nose like it’s a button to make you smile. “i’m only working hard in there to earn more days off, you know that?”

that makes you frown.

“babe, don’t do that…” you whine, shaking his shoulders. “you don’t need to work so hard. only do what is required of you. i just want you to be healthy.”

“no… just let me.” he replies with finality. “i need… i need a reason. you’re the reason why i’m still hanging in there, and i don’t want to miss another anniversary.” 

he bats his eyelashes. 

“being your boyfriend is my favorite job in the whole world.”

and how are you supposed to argue with one of his most heart-fluttering, most wholesome lines yet? 

you sigh in defeat. “then you can rest when you’re with me.” 

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” 

you lean in to kiss him, but are interrupted when he yawns. your forehead ends up resting against his as you giggle uncontrollably at the unexpected and hilarious view of his open mouth. 

“sleepy?”

he bows his head in embarrassment, body vibrating with laughter. “i couldn’t sleep because i was so excited. i wanted to talk to you last night but i was so sure i’d spoil the surprise.” 

“of course you couldn’t.” you giggle, removing yourself from his lap while tugging at the collar of his shirt. “come here. let’s sleep some more.”

you lie down on the bed facing each other. jungkook moans in contentment as you engulf him in your embrace, nuzzling his face against your chest. he can smell your body wash, sweet and clean. that— that isn’t new. every muscle in his body decompresses. he needed this, needed you. desperately. tremendously. you pull the thick and warm blanket over yourselves and he melts. while he wishes he was taller, he knows he is still of considerable height. he’s been bulking up, getting stronger than before too. but he doesn’t give a fuck about those at the moment. he’s not even aware. his body fits perfectly with yours— that’s all he knows. oh… he’s melting. but it doesn’t feel like he’s being reduced. he has everything to gain. this is heaven on earth.

he opens his eyes into an awful squint, faced by your cleavage spilling out from the neckline of your night dress. there’s this urge he can’t ignore. it’s not spelt out in his mind, he rather feels like his body is having a fit. next thing he knows, he’s carefully sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of the swell of your boob. he stays still for a few seconds, and then pulls away once he deems himself satisfied. he wipes your skin with his thumb incase he left some saliva, innocent eyes peeking up at you huffing out a quiet laugh. 

“you sure that’s all you needed?”

“i’ll devour you later.” he smirks, blinking sluggishly. “i’m tired but just you wait. i’ll go all night!”

“not if i beat you to it…” you tease, having plans of your own. you want to make him feel good. you’ve been going insane thinking about it. “missed you.”

“alright then, let’s do it at the same time.” he says suggestively. 

“you know i have a hard time focusing when we do that.” you huff.

“eh, so? not me.” he chuckles. “i think you do a really great job, though?”

“…still! go easy on me a little bit so i can do better.”

“it’s not a competition, baby.” he squeezes your waist affectionately. “plus, i don’t think i’d be able to control myself once i get a taste.”

“jungkook!” you whine, growing flustered. 

he laughs out loud, giving your ass a quick spank that resounds through the walls of the bedroom. 

it becomes silent again after that.

the tip of your nails graze his scalp with repeated movements, more so for your amusement, but he is practically purring. you can’t imagine your arm being a comfortable pillow either, but he is doing great at making it appear so.

“i realized something.”

“what is it?”

“i really can’t live without you.” he confesses earnestly, then looks up at you with raised eyebrows. “don’t say anything. i know you’ll say something like ‘yes, you can!’”

“i was not. i liked hearing you say it.” you stifle a giggle. “but i’m not going anywhere. you know that.”

“i don’t doubt that.” he sighs with a heavy chest. “sometimes i just get a bit worried that you’d get tired of waiting.” 

this isn’t the first time in your relationship that he’s voicing out this fear, but the difference between then and now is stark. with the disconnection, there was a part of you that expected it to resurface. 

“babe,” you gently tilt up his face, locking your sincere and love-filled eyes with his. “we’re okay. i’ve loved you since i was 18. this? this is nothing. you’re a part of me, so you’re always with me. and i know you keep me with you too.”

you wear a brave face. you hope that he believes your words as much as you do, because no matter how many boulders the universe throws down your path, all you ever think about is how you and jungkook will surmount them. together. he is your partner after all.

“we’ll get through it like we always do, baby boy.”

jungkook nods and smiles, doe eyes glittering. you love making that happen. “sorry, i think i scared myself when i read stories on the internet.” 

“our story is different!”

the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“no, seriously-” he cackles, a little breathless.

“we’re one of a kind!” you keep the joke running. you want to keep making him laugh, even if it’s only for a few seconds longer. 

“we’ve gone through so much bullshit. not everyone would fight as hard as we did!” jungkook passionately agrees with the same intensity. “you’re right, we always make it work. we’ll get through it like we always do.”

“trust me,” you charmingly implore him. “when was i ever wrong?”

“never!” he immediately shakes his head. “…atleast not about the things that matter.”

“okay,” you shrug. “i’ll take it.”

“goodnight kiss, please.” he cutely pleads.

wild guess: he went home to be babied. not that you’re complaining. this is miles better than having to wrestle him over who gets to be the big spoon. you love giving love. when your heart stops beating, it would be great to celebrate how much you were loved, but you also wish to be remembered as a person who gave love until their last breath. 

“goodnight, my love.” you coo, well aware that the sun has risen. 

you plant a tender kiss on his forehead. the complaint bubbling in his throat is swallowed when you lean in closer to reach his lips. with his wish fulfilled, he flutters his eyes closed and snuggles as close to you as possible, real and proper rest finally within his grasp. he basks in your warmth and the tranquilizing silence— his breathing steady and his heart at its calmest. beautiful things enter his mind. you are the sun on the first spring day; the clouds that go with him no matter the distance; the waves that kiss the shore and never fail to come back. he heals in places he didn’t know he was hurting. 

“hold on, where is bam then?”

“his house. i gave him some treats then he slept again…” his voice comes out muffled. he sniffles jokingly. “the reaction was kind of underwhelming. i think he didn’t miss me as much.” 

“of course he’d choose that over a human.”

“i bribed him too early.” he laments.

“wait…” he feels you come to a still. “i think he’s coming.”

he opens his eyes and copies you in focusing on the familiar sound of bam’s paws clicking against the floor. the mattress quakes and he lifts his head to find the dog climbing over your bodies. 

he’s seriously a large and tall dog. 

“bam, what are you doing here?!” 

bam tilts his head and stares back at jungkook, tail wagging as his dad laughs and pets him on the head down to his back. 

“he’s so adorable.” you squeal quietly, joining in and scratching under his chin. “i love you, bam.” 

bam’s eyes switch to you. he slowly lowers his head, giving your hand a tentative lick as if to show appreciation but he’s also worried that it would prompt you to stop.

“he’s gotten real heavy, huh?”

“he’s got some big muscles like you.”

“of course! he got it from me.”

jungkook’s proud smile drops a little. it morphs into pure fondness once bam starts sniffing at him. he yelps and dramatically falls back, wiping his wet cheek with the back of his hand, but it’s game over once bam pants with excitement. bam chases his face to attack him with his love language. 

you watch the scene from the sidelines, laughing so hard that your sides are beginning to hurt. you wish you were recording. you wish that you never forget this. 

“okay, okay! you’re happy to see me! i see that now!” jungkook laughs, squeezing bam in a tight hug for a moment. 

the dog still refuses to relent, however. they almost look like they’re fighting to the death but the truth is they’re just smothering each other with affection. unbeknownst to them, you make a pained face when one of them accidentally hits your arm multiple times. nevermind, they were definitely both culprits. 

“____! save me!” your boyfriend cries out.

he bulldozes through bam and shoves himself into the tiny space he previously, and peacefully, occupied minutes before. he’s squeezing you so tight, nearly crushing you as he laughs with tears in his eyes. they affectionately call it his elmo laugh, the fans, which you adore just as much. 

you see it before you hear it. bam makes that face when he’s about to bark. your hush comes out at the same exact second as his barking. 

“this is so chaotic!” you try to project your voice louder than everybody else’s. 

jungkook’s laughs quieter but harder, if that makes any sense. 

you have an arm around jungkook that holds him taut and protected, while the other is busy with getting bam to settle down. you slide your palm across his fur in repeated motions, focusing on the spots that cause his eyes to flutter in relaxation.

“shhh, bam. it’s still too early. let daddy rest first. we can tire him out again later, okay?”

he settles on top of your bodies again. he has stopped moving around, but then he makes that face again, and you really love your healthy sense of hearing. 

“behave, bam-” you playfully squeeze his cheeks together before scratching under his chin. “my cutie bam. you can do that for me, right? you’re a good boy! i’m sure you understand.”

he abandons the urge to bark, suddenly fixing his position so you can also scratch at his chest. you almost snort at how funny he looked obeying you on accident because he is begging to be petted.

“that’s right. good job, bam.” you coo, sending him a pleased smile. “you’re so smart. you listen so well.” 

you whisper to jungkook. “it’s so cute when it looks like he really understands what i’m saying.”

“it’s the way you talk to him.” he answers quietly, placing tiny kisses along your collarbone. “you’re so sweet.” he almost forgot how good you are with bam. he just fell in love with you all over again. 

“but it’d be cooler if he does understand me.” you hum, moving your hand on bam’s head. he finally decides to flop down then. he rests his head over your waist, eyes seemingly inching closer to sleepiness. you sigh in relief. “go to sleep too, baby.”

jungkook breaks the silence a moment later.

“…did you mean me or bam?”

“you!” you chuckle. 

“oh-” he laughs at his own foolishness. his arm that is supposed to be hooked around your waist rests over bam’s body instead. he ruffles the dog’s fur softly. “let’s all go to sleep.”

you let out a yawn in response to that. you sniffle, murmuring tiredly. “i love you, baby… your surprise made me so happy. i’ll make it up to you too.”

“i love you more…”

jungkook lifts his head and finds that you have closed your eyes. your chest rises and falls in a calm rhythm. bam is closely following you into dreamland. 

heavens, what he wouldn’t give so he could stay here forever and never leave again. 

his eyes are heavy with exhaustion, hot with sleepy tears, but he fights his own body to stay awake. with all his might, he gazes in awe at the beauty of a life with you. he wants to always remember what is waiting for him at home.

[hanbinics]

pillow princess — m.s.

pairing ⟶ matthew sturniolo x !femreader

contents ⟶ smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it!!).

word count ⟶ 650

matt almost can’t believe the sight of you—just so fuckin' pretty like this.

you’re above him, seated on his lap with his cock nestled inside of you, but he can tell you’re not enjoying it as much as you usually would. your hips are lazy in their movement, and you’re not even allowing yourself to sink all the way down on him before you’re repeating the process, desperate little whines slipping through your parted lips. your eyes are damn near closed, a sleepy haze still wrapped like a blanket around you.

you’d woken up with a sticky cunt after some dream you’d tried to explain to your boyfriend. he doesn’t even remember the whole thing, just that he looked so good and you needed him right then and there, that you couldn’t go back to sleep without it.

of course, matt had been happy to oblige. he’d felt a gentle throbbing in his cock the second you were whining in his ear about how badly you needed him inside you, asking in that soft, sleepy voice while you pressed sweet, needy kisses to the warm skin of his neck.

now, though, he lays back with one tattooed arm resting behind his head while the other grips you gently, long fingers splayed across your abdomen and the place where your thigh meets your hip. his thumb is stroking lazy circles against your clit, but he’s not doing enough to really get you anywhere—he’d made sure of that.

when another needy whine drawls from your plushy lips, matt tuts softly. “nuh-uh, kid. don’t go whinin’ when this is your fault,” he insists, voice low but firm as you continue your lazy movements above him, breasts bouncing just enough that it makes him want to reach up and squeeze one.

but he doesn’t. instead he just watches you with amused blue eyes, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “how long you gonna do this for?” he asks you bluntly, watching the way your eyes open wider, gaze now sharper than it was before. your lips are settled into a soft pout and at the sight of the bratty expression, matt decides you’ve both had enough.

“yeah—alright, i got you. lift up f’me,” he instructs, appreciating the sight of subtle relief in your face as you climb off of him with the help of his firm grip on your hips.

an almost giddy smile rests on your mouth now as you lay back, greedy hands immediately coming up to rest on his broad shoulders as he climbs over you, one of his hands bracing itself beside your head and the other taking himself into his own grip so that he can tap the head of his cock against your eager pussy, blue eyes practically rolling into the back of his head.

“this what you needed, huh?” he mocks you, moving his hips forward just enough that he can slide between your folds—really feel how wet you are for him. “yeah—just needed me to do it f’you.”

you suck in a soft breath as you finally feel matt breach your awaiting hole, sinking into you slowly. he watches the way your face contorts into something desperate and satisfied, a small smirk taking over his mouth now.

“you better not cum ‘till i tell you, got it?” he huffs, breathing sharply through his nose as he pushes his hips into yours, setting that rhythm you like so much.

he snorts when you really start to get loud then, shaking his head. “such a fuckin’ pillow princess.” his tone is mean, almost cruel, as he delivers the nickname he’d given you long ago, but you know he loves it when you nod your head quickly in agreement, throwing your head back against the soft fabric and letting him take over—just the way you both like it.

©hanbinics

ღ divider by @/cafekitsune ღ

[sturnioz]

♯┆fully introducing. . . shy!matt .ᐟ

making you feel good is one of shy!matt's favourite things to do, whether that's using his tongue, fingers or cock — but he can't look at you when he does it.

matt's face is nuzzled in your neck as he lays on top of you, his warm breath fanning over your skin while he ruts his hips against yours, his cock pressing hard against the front of his sweatpants, the friction making you moan quietly.

frank ocean's 'nikes' plays softly from the speakers of his pc, filling the room with music, blending in with the sounds of pleasure that escape you from each roll of his hips.

his lips start to trail across your shoulder and collarbone, ringed hands gripping the hem of your shirt before quickly moving his head beneath the material, mouthing at your chest with pleased hums.

your back arches into his touch, happy to have gone braless when you feel his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth as his hand kneads the other — providing equal attention.

he's moving his lips south, trailing more kisses and light grazes of teeth down your stomach, and when you shirt slides from his head to reveal his fluffy hair and blue eyes, he's turning his head away.

"stop lookin' at me," he murmurs quietly as he sits on his knees between your parted legs, his hands smoothing up your thighs nervously. "stop. i — i can feel you lookin' at me."

"you're so cute," you say with a teasing tone, and you watch as matt's eyebrows knit together, shifting slightly. "matt, i'm..."

your words simmer, your gaze locked on matt as he settles on the bed, laying flat on his stomach and pulling the covers over him, obstructing him from your view.

you would find the lump beneath the covers amusing if it wasn't for your utter confusion, and you push yourself up to lean on your elbows, preparing to question him until you feel it.

he's staring at the wet patch on your underwear, his finger gently stroking over the damp material and he feels pleased when your legs twitch, and hears your gasp — the sound muffled from being under the covers.

matt keeps his thumb to your covered pussy as he rubs his face against your inner thighs, pressing kisses to the skin as he adjusts your legs on his shoulders, dragging you down closer to his face.

he keeps kissing your thighs for a moment until he suddenly turns his head, pressing his mouth to your pussy, his tongue pushing at the fabric.

he feels elevated when he hears you make a noise — a sharp intake of breathe before letting out a drawn out moan.

your thighs are squeezing around his head, and it takes matt a whole lot to not go through with the sudden urge of ripping the material in half. instead, he chooses to pull them to the side, revealing your glistening pussy.

he waits no time in putting his mouth back on you, dragging his tongue through your folds with gentle caresses before swirling around your clit and sucking, feeling your legs tremble at the sensation.

when his tongue prods at your hole, forcing its way inside, he's startled when he hears the rustle of the covers above his head — pausing all ministrations as he cautiously glances up, heat crawling up his neck and colouring his cheeks as he believes you're going expose him, but slowly begins to relax when he sees your hands, aiming for his hair.

"sorry," you mutter, rutting your hips against his face to entice him to continue. "needed to grab something. wanted to touch you."

"'s okay..." matt breathes out shakily before blowing cool air on your cunt, smiling shyly when he feels you shiver. "don't look, please. i can... i can make you feel good. i promise, okay? — just... don't look."

© sturnioz