#THIS IS THE FWB AU YOU GUYS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girlygguk · 7 months ago

Text

FIRST CLASS | JJK (m)

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

𓍯𓂃

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

WORDCOUNT 25k+

RATING 18+ MINORS DNI

GENRE smut, fluff, angst. university au, f2l

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

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

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

main masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jaykayyyyyy!!"

"Let's fucking gooo, Jeon!"

"Good shit tonight, JK!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ride with you?"

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

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?" You try again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why are you fucking apologizing?"

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

"I don't know."

Dirty fucking liar, his subconscious snickers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

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

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

Fun is good. Feelings are not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2 years prior—circa. your 19th birthday

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't fucking say—"

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Welp, there goes your ride home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay, Min?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's off limits."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing. You feel nothing. What the fucking fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

"What the fuck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook is fucking fuming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bite it."

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

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

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

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

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

It happens in the blink of an eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I hate you."

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

A trembly shake of his head, "No—"

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

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

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

Don’t be fucking stupid, your subconscious snarls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do exactly that.

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

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

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

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

Your head hits the pavement hard, bouncing slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ow, fuck." You groan weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You groan while Jungkook just signals his understanding.

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

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

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

That was six days ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You haven’t seen Mingyu since that night.

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

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

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

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

During that conversation, he told you he loved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallowed, nodding slightly. "Okay."

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

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

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

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

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

"Wha-huh?"

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

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

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

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

"No," he croaks.

You blink, "No?"

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

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

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

Well, you definitely misread the room there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, your dad is kind of a DILF—"

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

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

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

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

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

No strenuous activities.

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

Avoid physical exertion.

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

Make sure you rest.

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

Fuck it, you've had enough rest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen, eyes hooded.

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

"Do you want to take a nap?"

You blink at him.

"I'm sorry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You almost scream when he stops.

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

"Say that again."

"Say wha—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you wanna fuck them?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oka—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is." He manages to choke out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh no. Fuck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallows. "I know."

"Do you-are you clean?"

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

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

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

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

"Ohh, yeah—"

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

"Hey, that was for a fundraiser—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel complete.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhm."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

END.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

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

6K notes · View notes

lovieku · 3 months ago

Text

MOTHERFUCKIN’ TRAIN WRECK! ⋆ 정국

when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

୨ৎ from the grande series

pairing: fuckboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: fwb au

warnings: based on this ask, small smutty moments (cunnilingus, fingering, tiny boob play), angst, fluffi maybe idk, whipped and jelly koo, ft. namjoon!!!, oblivious oc, deep down she feels it too but jk is simply too much of a simp so it doesn’t look like it at first, he’s also so petty and sassy, jokes about ending it if oc doesn’t give him a chance </3, he’s just a little shit, peep the lyrics from boyfriend hehe, oh btw happy ending!!!

word count: 18k

a/n: wowww i’m so sorry for this pile of nonsense, it’s so bad i vomited a little in my mouth. i hate every single thing about it but i didn’t wanna leave you guys starved. i love u sm and thank u for the support, but u’re allowed to leave hate asks for what u’re about to read rn ❤️ also i’m SO SORRY for being unable to write a jungkook who isn’t a simp

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive

────୨ৎ────

Jeongguk was only supposed to clean you up. That’s what he calls it when his angelic face finds its place between your spread legs, sinful eyes locking with yours, paired with a smirk you can hardly ever survive.

After all, he’s a man of simple devices. Why bother fetching a towel when he can use his own mouth? When he can let his tongue lap at your juices, slurp every last trace, have an excuse to taste you again, and again, and again?

It’s barely even effective as a way to clean you up, of drying the slick mess that sticks to your inner thighs from cumming three times under his merciless doings— you both know that. Then, how does he expect you not to break a fourth when he runs his wet muscle so torturously along your slit, getting ever more soaked?

Jeongguk is not really trying to end the night. He’s drawing it out. He already had you unraveling in phases— first on his fingers, then all over his cupid lips, ending with you convulsating just another time around his thick length.

It was rough, left purplish marks of his harsh hold digging into your sides, a faint trace of a forbidden hickey just under your collarbones, where you can easily hide it.

In all fairness, he couldn’t help it.

It was you who provoked him. You always do, getting under his skin, teasing him about his skills, downgrading them with playful indifference and nothing more than a meh, as Jeongguk rasps in your ear, clearly affected by your session of foreplay when asking, “Does this make you feel good?”

You’ll be sent straight to hell for lying like that, with seemingly no remorse, but you’re unable to resist the dangerous game and the familiar thrill that comes from it. Nothing compares to the dark wave that takes over his hooded eyes, his motions ever more intentional, almost overwhelming.

He moves to prove something to you, to show you there’s no one quite like him, even with all the guys in your phone, on your lips, inside your sheets.

Jeongguk is your fuckbuddy, and your friend on top of the rest. So, when he first laid his lips on yours, the bottom line plumper than his cupid’s bow, it had taken a great amount of alcohol to flow through both of your veins and blur the lines, let instinct take over.

From there, it was like you couldn’t help yourselves; the physical attraction was undeniable, it’s what brought you here in between the mess of his bed. If you ignore the silly crush you had on him during the first year of college, this was perfect.

Your fuckbuddy contract (Jeongguk hates calling you that, he prefers my friend who makes me cum a lot) includes a heavy emphasis on a no-strings-attached relationship, that can be interrupted whenever one of the two feels uncomfortable, and that should not come before your friendship. On top of all, you both are not exclusive. No commitment, no jealousy. You’re perfectly free of meeting other people, fucking other people. Unless you’re going to date one of those, of course. Then, bye-bye friend who makes me cum a lot.

These rules were established almost a year ago, after your hands couldn’t help themselves from roaming hastily all over his body, pulling him impossibly closer. It was the second time you allowed yourself to feel him, following the night when he initiated things under the clouded lights of a club.

You couldn’t help it. You had been thinking of that moment for weeks now, and when you were left alone with him in his dorm room, pulse racing, it’s all your thoughts were reduced to. Kiss him, kiss him, fuck him.

You felt guilty. A friend shouldn’t be thinking of another friend like you were about Jeongguk. Especially after you promised yourself you wouldn’t let your buried crush resurface and ruin what you had built— even if the memory of that infatuation is honestly just laughable now (you would never think of dating him, pft).

But Jeongguk, ever the gentlest when it comes to you, assured you it was okay to feel as you did, because he felt it too. And was dying to touch you again. His words, not yours.

It’s only sexual. A casual, sexual relationship. Two friends who happen to find each other irresistible.

So when he reacts with a flash of competitiveness at the mere suggestion he might not be the best you’ve ever had, it’s… weird, the feeling that overcomes you. You acknowledge it for a split second, as if you’re searching to name that something inside you stirring, but before you can, it seems to make you fall apart immediately, your grip tighter, back arched, moans high-pitched.

He basks in his silent victory, in the factual demonstration that he in fact can’t be compared to all your other guys.

Except, there’s actually no other guys.

Back when this friends-with-benefits arrangement first started, you were occasionally fooling around with an older guy from campus named Mingyu. Jeongguk knew him, given that they’re in the same photography class. He was also aware of your casual fling with him. And yet, Jeongguk still kissed you. Actually, did so much more than just that.

Either way, the line has always been clear: he has no right to question who you spend time with and what you engage in, Jeongguk isn’t a saint either.

You love him, you truly do. With time, he has become one of your closest friends, and you honestly can’t see yourself getting through college without him.

But there’s no denying the fuckboy allegations, the ones that are constantly thrown at him all around campus. He is a fuckboy. It must be his easy charm, flirting as natural as breathing, tripping out his tongue with seemingly not much thought. At some point, the majority of the girls in your campus got to have their moment with Jeongguk, either because of mindless teasing or one night stands, occasionally turning into casual arrangements.

You have accepted it as part of who he is. You know his fuckboy habits haven’t magically changed when you two started fucking. He doesn’t really spend much time talking about it with you, occasionally mentioning his doings every now and then, but you don’t need to know; his friends and the people whispering in hallways and lecture halls fill in the blanks.

That is exactly why you’ve let Jeongguk believe that your sexual life is equally as busy, floods of boys from your inbox to your sheets, as if you aren’t too much of a hopeless romantic to even think of anything that isn’t exclusively monogamous.

But this isn’t the case. Jeongguk isn’t yours, you aren’t his. It’s just about sex, and you’ve accepted that. You don’t want anything more from him. You tell yourself the only reason you’re not seeing anyone else is that the idea of it makes you uneasy. That you’re more than satisfied with Jeongguk being your friend-turned-into-fuckbuddy, and you don’t need other ones.

Jeongguk is more than enough. Oh, he is.

“Fuck, Gguk. You’re gonna make me cum— Ah, shit— again.”

Your head is thrown back in his pillow, legs weakly tightening around his head nestled so close to your core, and it’s clear his goal has completely shifted from getting you clean and neat when the tip of his tongue moves to flicker on your sensitive nub, relentlessly abusing it with casual kissing and sucking.

He opens his mouth to take more of you, his wet muscle tracing your slit and teasing your entrance for— sadly —the shortest second, and the way he hums approvingly against you brings you even closer to the breaking point.

You’re a fragile mess, overstimulated from the previous orgasms but desperate to chase yet another climax, his hands roaming up to find your breast only spurring you further.

Jeongguk knows you by now, and is aware of all the subtle gestures that make you come undone under him. He knows just what to do to push you over the edge, and when to do it exactly.

You’re a sucker for dirty talk and praise, and occasionally, when the ideal situation comes, you love being degraded. It’s a side of you that only ever arises during sex, mind hazed and irrational, the delirious need for release clouding all your usually composed senses.

At first, he teased you for it. Not because he’s not as much of a fan as you are of talking during sex, but because he never pictured you to be the loud type. And you truly are.

Jeongguk pinches your nipples in hopes of you getting the message and lowering your volume, but it only makes you whine higher, your moans surely not going unnoticed by the other students in the dorm.

It can only be worse when he decides to speak against you, his voice a low, almost unintelligible growl, “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good. All mine, fuck. Want to taste your cum once again, c’mon babe. Give it to me.”

And you, always obliging and well-behaved, let go for a fourth time, hips furiously rutting against his face, his words making your surroundings spin, the way his nose would brush your sensitive nub having your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your gasp is strained when he retreats with one last wet stripe between your puffy lips, sealing the orgasm with a kiss on your clit, and when he finds your face again there’s a cockish grin spreading across his, chin coated with your juices.

He immediately meets your mouth then, sharing your own taste, and you both moan shamelessly at the action.

Jeongguk collapses next to you, his body warm and relaxed, pulling you closer by your waist and almost making you straddle him with the force of his hold. He sighs into your hair, kissing the root of it, “You did amazing for me, pretty girl.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine at the praise and the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. It’s ridiculous.

With your cheek pressed against his chest, you glance up at him through your lashes and a lazy smile threatens to take over your face, but your playful pout is more prominent, almost convincing, “I’m never letting you do that trick on me again. Next time, I’m just going to take a shower like a normal person.”

The laugh he lets out is rich and unguarded, his chest rumbling under your ear, and it makes you pull away with a mock glare, brows knitted together as you swat at his toned stomach, “Don’t laugh. I hated that.”

His dark eyes soften as they dance with amusement, the corners crinkling, and he hums, going along with your blatant lie from the way your lips struggle to contain a grin, “Oh, absolutely. You were screaming in horror, couldn’t stand it.”

“Whatever,” you mutter incoherently, standing up to escape from the inevitable loss. The slick between your thighs reminds you of why you need that shower in the first place, causing you to awkwardly wobble your way to his bathroom.

Jeongguk watches you with a lopsided smirk, stretched out on the bed, his brown hair a messy halo on the pillow, and it completes the concept he goes perfectly with, the one of a devil dressed up as an angel, even more when his voice drips with faux desperation, “Hey, come back. I need my cuddles.”

“You’ll live,” you toss back before pulling the door shut behind you and stepping into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water stings at first, then soothes you, sliding down your skin.

Jeongguk already knows the outcome of what he’s about to do isn’t going to turn in his favor, but he tries his luck regardless, standing up hastily and limply making his way to his bathroom door.

He only knocks twice, then puts on his best begging voice, talking loud enough to be heard over the shower, “Toots?”

“No!”

A scoff filters through the steamy air, followed by the unmistakable creak of the door handle as he steps inside. He’s relentless, voices his thoughts with the kind of logic only he would find convincing, “C’mon, we’ll save water!”

You stand with your back to him, his body wash traveling down your skin in soap bubbles, the scent filling the air, and you let your shoulders shrug. You don’t turn around. Number one, because you’ll give in. Number two, because you can hear the pout on his lips, and that’s the reason for number one.

You try your best to sound annoyed, “Jeongguk, just leave. You don’t even pay for it.”

“Our poor earth pays for it,” he quips, stepping further into the cramped space, body still bare, and that’s maybe a number three for you, “Because you wanna be so unfair to your best friend and leave him out in the cold.”

“You’re not my best friend.”

His gasp is dramatic, you even hear it echo through the tiny room, and you fight hard to contain the giggle locked inside you, but it escapes in the shape of a snort, which you quickly try to conceal by clearing your throat. You even further go with the lie, “You heard me.”

“Unbelievable. I’m kicking you out the second you’re done here,” he tries his best menacing tone, the threat barely harsh and effective, closing the door behind his back with an exaggerated thump, followed by unintelligible grumbling.

You take your sweet time in his now steamy bathroom. You shampoo twice, deliberately squeezing out a generous amount of his own fancy product in your palm, making sure the squeak of the bottle is heard through the door so he knows you’re helping yourself. His high-quality hair dryer blasts warm air over your damp hair until it’s only mildly wet. And you even rummage around his cabinet, indulging in his collection of expensive skincare creams. These little luxuries are exactly why you never pass a single occasion to shower over at his dorm room.

And the second you’re done in there, he doesn’t kick you out like he threatened. It takes a moment for him to move his attention from his phone to your figure, wrapped around in his fluffy robe, and he doesn’t even try to keep up the menacing act. Still spread on his ruined bed, his furrowed brows relax, and his lips break into a grin. He scans your face, then giggles, “You’ve got a massive pimple on your forehead.”

“Fuck you. I’m taking one of your hoodies.”

“It’s called borrowing,” even in the midst of checking out your freshly-washed naked body, now being stripped from his bathrobe, he’s still committed to the game of banter you two always play.

“It’s not if I’m not giving it back,” you counter, voice muffled by the fabric of one of his many black sweatshirts you’re already pulling over your head, quickly shuffling into your jeans, helping them up with some small hops that make him grin.

He doesn’t seem bothered by your comeback, too used to losing his own clothes to your closet; rather, he watches you move with what seems like hurry around his dimly lit room. He shifts higher, letting the sheets slip to reveal his still bare, and slightly sweaty torso, “Wanna hang out together at the party tomorrow?”

”Hmm, I’ll just see you there,” you don’t pay him much attention, using your phone camera as a mirror to wipe away any smudged mascara under your eyes. “I’ve already got a partner, actually.”

Jeongguk fully sits up now, vision a little blurry from the hasty and sudden movement, phone forgotten, “A partner?”

The way you casually let a smile tug at your lips while talking about a man is new, “Yeah. A guy from my English class asked me to go with him. He’s pretty cute.”

You’re too busy shoving your belongings in your bag and mentally cataloging every single item to notice the expression your best friend is currently sporting, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. Tank top, makeup, laptop… where the fuck is— oh, here. Lip balm. What else?

Jeongguk thinks you’re forgetting something deathly important. A fucking explanation, maybe? He’s known you to occasionally fool around with random guys, but he thought it was just that. Occasional and random. When did it get to having a partner? That sounds silly. Or maybe a little too formal, a little too real. What the fuck does having a partner even entail?

You’re blissfully unaware of the stubborn storm taking over Jeongguk’s thoughts, especially because you’re not exactly sparing him a second glance, moving with single-minded focus, hurrying to leave. Because apparently it’s so bad to want to spend the night with your best friend. Share a bed, watch a movie, talk gossip (it’s been so long since you’ve updated him the way only you can about the latest campus stories, ugh). Amazing, yes, that’s totally fine with Jeongguk.

And he does manage to sound unbothered, “What’s his name?”

“Namjoon.”

Jeongguk focuses on your slim fingers slipping your lip balm into the front pocket of your bag, syllabes leaving his lips in a slow mumble, “Ah, Namjoon. I know him. I guess.”

Fucking Kim Namjoon. Of course he knows him. 6 feet tall, polite, model student Kim Namjoon. Shit. Great choice. No, really, he’s the perfect catch.

“Hm? Well, I think he’s very nice. And hot as fuck.”

He grimaces, “Gross.”

“You’re one to talk,” pulling the hood over your head, you finally meet his eyes. You’re completely oblivious to the thoughts gnawing at him, so you think his disappointment is only caused by your next words, “I should get going now.”

“What? You’re not staying over for dinner?” The way he looks up at you with doe, puppy-dog eyes almost makes you trip on your own resolution, but you only ruffle his hair from your stance next to his bed, hoping the small action is enough to satisfy your hunger. Not for dinner.

“Nah, sorry Gguk. Gotta get up early for English class.”

He scoffs, moving stubbornly from your soothing touch, “Sure. English class with Joohyuk.”

“…Namjoon.”

“Right, that’s what I said. Namsun.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-laughing, “No, it’s Namjoon.”

“Namgi.”

“Namjoon.”

“Whatever, don’t care.” The words have barely any space to roll out through his pout, and along with his petty little slip-ups it’s the most childish act you’ve seen him pull so far. To be completely honest, he seems to break a new record every other day.

You fight the urge to roll your gaze at the ceiling, finding it impossible to deal with pouty, hungry and cuddle-starved Jeongguk. You sigh, muttering, “Insufferable.”

“Give me a kiss, brat.”

The teasing comes so naturally that for a second you don’t ponder on the demand being something a normal friend wouldn’t exactly ask. But it isn’t one you’ll deny.

You bend down to meet him as easily as he let the request out, muttering a playful Oh, I’m the brat now? before brushing his pushed lips with yours in a sweet, short kiss, enough to draw a soft sigh from both of you. You hum against it, voice warm with something that contradicts your words entirely, “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Sure,” rolling your eyes, you grant his cocky figure that little win, too tired to put up a fight, even if you almost rethink it when he confidently leans back against the pillows, smirking up at you. You decide to cut it short, it’s for the best, throwing your bag over your shoulder as well as one last look at him, before readying yourself for the walk of shame through his frat.

────୨ৎ────

Namjoon is, by all standards, the perfect guy. He’s genuine, smiles sweetly with his dimples showing and his eyes crinkling into crescents that make him seem both wise and youthful.

Careful, even protective over you, making sure you’re comfortable. With your drink, with your seat, with your conversation.

Almost too attentive, which should calm your nerves, but instead you feel yourself unable to fully let go. Open up to him like he’s doing with you, like you think you want to do.

You’re not sure. You can’t feel that mysterious spark everybody talks about. That spark Jeongguk admitted he’s never felt with anyone so far, no matter the number of girls he’s been with. The one he’s confessed he’s desperate to feel. The one you hope he can find.

Wait, why are you thinking about Jeongguk?

Said boy has yet to acknowledge you, standing across from you in the crowded living room of your mutual friend’s house. Each weekend, the same ritual brings you back here, whenever Taehyung’s parents head off for one of their rich-people, luxurious trips. The space is familiar, a backdrop to countless parties, all too often ending in someone’s drunken confessions and stolen kisses that’d become the talk of campus until the next party came around.

As tradition would want, with the clock ticking its way past midnight, you’d be drunk out of your mind already. Tonight, however, you’re not even sure you want to be here.

Namjoon is keeping close tabs on your drinks, monitoring each glass you reach for, and you know he means well; ordinarily, you’d find it sweet, endearing even. But it only seems to heighten your anxiety now. It just reminds you of how out of place this whole thing feels. You want to drown your awkwardness in a wave of liquid courage, and the irony isn’t lost on you: the very reason why you’re nervous is keeping you from numbing it.

Namjoon makes you way too aware of yourself. You wish your first proper hang out wasn’t at a filthy frat party, the blasting music causing you both to lean into each other to make conversation. The proximity makes your palms disgustingly clammy, and you hope he doesn’t reach for your hand.

You also think this isn’t the type of scenario that best suits Namjoon. You would have loved to be with him somewhere softer, with less noise and more light, talking over coffee instead of loud techno, his poetic speech lulling you into infatuation. Maybe then, this would have gone like you had imagined it might. Like you wanted it to go, just to prove something to yourself. You’re still not sure what exactly.

But this house — this party — is a natural habitat for people like Jeongguk. It’s a playground he navigates with ease, his charisma amplified by the darkened rooms and faint cigarette smoke that seems to follow him, just like everyone around him. They exist solely to orbit his mood.

It’s as he saunters back inside after yet another smoke break that you spot him again, his focus entirely on whatever girl is currently at his side. With Namjoon leaving to grab a drink for the two of you to share, you take the short moment to be a shameless creep and study your friend’s movements from the other side of the room.

You can’t help but feel a sting of irritation. Jeongguk is fully aware you’re here. You’d texted him earlier, just something casual to say you’d arrived, maybe even expecting him to meet you or give you a quick wave. Instead, there’d been no reply.

Just like the TikToks you’d sent last night, after you told him you wouldn’t be staying over at his, that also went ignored. You didn’t think too much of it, figured it was probably one of his petty acts. You aren’t any better: it’s not like you’ll go up to him to say hi, not after he ignored you. Those videos were funny, too. He’s the one missing out.

But now, your eyes squinted to try and get the best possible view on each detail of the scene in front of you, what you notice is nothing about him and everything about who he’s currently spending the time he could have used to acknowledge you with.

It’s not just whatever girl. It’s Haeun.

You haven’t seen them hanging out together in what feels like months, and frankly, you’re thrown. Maybe that’s also the reason why he suddenly had no time for you. You scoff.

You’re just confused, really. Jeongguk didn’t mention a thing about her, and it’s not like he’s ever kept his hookups or flings a secret. But Haeun was never just that. She was the one he seemed almost ready to get in his first serious relationship with, the one girl you thought could make him forget all about his usual habits.

When Jeongguk had first started hanging out with Haeun, he’d seemed uncharacteristically interested. You naturally found yourself rooting for him, hoping he’d take a leap and start something real after many failed attempts.

At that point, your casual arrangement with him had been going on for a while, but you knew it wasn’t built to last. You’d expected it to end sooner rather than later, and you were okay with that. You just wanted him to be happy with himself and his choices.

But on the night he was supposed to take Haeun out on a date, the one that could have changed everything, it’s like a magic vacuum turned on and sucked all his progress away. He’d shown up in front of your door instead. No explanations, no details about what had happened; he didn’t want to talk. He only wanted to be near you and sink into silence.

That night you laid next to him, his head on you, hair sprawled out on your stomach, and said absolutely nothing.

Since then, he hadn’t mentioned Haeun at all, and you’d assumed it was over. The right side of your brain was irrationally glad for that, greedily geeking at the prospect of still getting to keep Jeongguk close in ways that go over a simple friendship. In ways that have you thanking God for not taking your friend’s sex skills away from you; in ways that have your nose scrunching whenever he leaves small, delicate pecks on the side of your neck as you watch a movie cuddled in his embrace. If he had decided to go on that date, you would be denied all of this luxury.

The left side of your brain is a little less greedy, a little more rational. The half of your mind responsible for keeping some logic instilled in you even thought it could have been a good thing for Jeongguk to experience a different side of relationships.

You’ve always sensed there to be deeper reasons beneath Jeongguk’s carefree front. You’ve watched him jump from girl to girl, dip in and out of flings with seemingly no thought, as if he’s not trying to bury issues he should find a different answer for, to avoid whatever insecurities he’s run too far away from to face.

He’s never had to spell it out for you. You never pressed him on the topic either. And you think he’s grateful for it, for your silence that offers him the stability he won’t admit he needs, for simply staying and understanding. For allowing him to be vulnerable.

You wish you could give him more than that quiet comfort. Wonder if you should try your luck and push him to see that he does deserve something real— more than the distractions he uses to keep his fears at bay.

Jeongguk would make an incredible boyfriend. He always spots the small details, the slight changes in your mood, and he picks them up before you can even notice yourself, caring in a silent way that doesn't go unnoticed. Not by you.

It’s easy to imagine him being the kind of partner who’d cater to his girl’s needs effortlessly, even in quiet, even if hidden. You know he could be that person if he could just let anyone in beyond sex. When he’ll find the one, it’ll be clear it’s all he was made for.

Right now though, if anyone were to ask you that, you’d advise them to just go and look for another one, because he’s a little, lying piece of shit. You’re just a tad bit upset about it, if your crossed arms and furrowed brows are anything to go by.

You don’t understand why he’s now there, standing next to the girl he himself stood up, the one he looked ready to fix everything for, and then wasn’t. Leaning in close as if nothing had ever happened.

Why couldn’t he tell you, at least give you a heads-up if he was reconnecting with her? You know it shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, but the fact that he’s hiding it stings. Are you overthinking this?

When he lifts his head from her ear and scans the room, his eyes landing right on yours for a brief second just to look away, you don’t think you are. His attention shifts back to Haeun as if he hadn’t seen you at all. What the fuck?

You question what’s the point of having eyes to see when you are now forced to witness Jeongguk leaving the room with Haeun hanging her draggy weight on his arm, his smile cockish as he helps her up by her waist, fingers digging dangerously close to the curve of her perfectly shaped peach.

Their chemistry is undeniable, hands finding skin with unpracticed ease. It must be the way Jeongguk can effortlessly work his charm with any girl he deems attractive enough to fuck, his smirk and the way he lets his nose scrunch almost timidly, as if you can’t see right through him, making women potty in his sculpted hands.

The prospect of your best friend getting laid by the girl he was almost ready to change it all for should make you happy. Smile, at least.

Instead, you frown, mindlessly taking long sips from the straw in your glass and letting it stir your too watered-down cocktail that lacks any real flavor. You don’t even try to find answers as to how another drink landed right on the counter you rest your back on, but you’re glad for it.

You’re more upset at the fact that he decided not to tell you anything. You would have helped him through it, supported him, advised him on what to do, how to move in such a situation. But even if he didn’t need any of this, you would have appreciated just knowing. From him.

The ways in which the two of you are intertwined right at this moment don’t exactly allow him to completely leave you unaware of his actions. It’s not fair.

But then, are you even supposed to feel like this in the first place? Is only sex supposed to have this impact on you? Is even the smallest cell in his brain producing a thought that might take him back to you, and could it compare to a third of what you think and feel?

Does he not get that tingly sensation with you, ‘cause he’s used to it? ‘Cause you’re nothing too different nor special from all the choice he has laid at his feet, nothing out of the usual routine?

A gentle hand on your arm jolts you out of your thoughts. The touch is delicate, but the way it pulls you from your spiral is rough, making you stumble on the already wobbly stool you’re sitting on. When you look to your side, Namjoon meets you with a warm smile.

You hadn’t even noticed him being back next to you, and you figure that’s probably how that drink found its way in your hands. You’re a deer caught in headlights as you look at him, then down at the almost empty glass, then back at the boy. Your eyes widen impossibly more, and you struggle with finding a louder volume to your voice, almost fading with the music, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to finish this all by myself.”

You remember him saying he’d get a drink for the two of you to share before leaving you with your haunting thoughts. He just laughs in a way that should soothe your nerves, but it doesn’t, “It’s okay. You look like you needed it. I’m getting another one for me and catching up with some of my friends over there. I’ll be back in a bit, alright?”

“Yeah, totally. No problem,” your words roll out your tongue in a slurred hurry, face already turning to the opposite side of the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re agreeing on. You just feel Namjoon slip away from the seat next to yours again.

The brief interaction was enough for Jeongguk to have time to completely disappear from your strict observing, and just like the boy who should have had your undivided attention tonight, he equally slips away. From your vision, from the party. And from you. He’s with Haeun now, after all. And you’re alone.

Being truthful, Jeongguk is once again slipping away from his problems only. He doesn’t know how he ended up with Haeun by his side, but when he found your big, confused eyes in the midst of what should have been his escape for the night, he thinks he could name a few reasons.

It’s suffocating, the grip you have on him. He can almost feel one of your slim, delicate hands around his throat. He’s a dirty little sadist, of course he enjoys the pain. But he shouldn’t, so he runs from it until his back hits the wall, and the hold only gets tighter.

There’s nothing to do but face the truth. And you’re in front of him, eyes lost and inviting him to tell you. What should be easy for him to say, what he owes you. But the words get stuck in his throat, right where you’re pressing, and he feels like he might stop breathing.

He could die like this, with your narrowed orbs pitying him, and he badly wishes you would call him a coward. The hold is just enough to hurt him, not to make him lose his senses; if anything, it only makes his head spin around the one thought he wants to avoid. You.

With the quickest distraction he could get his hands on, he keeps adding to it: Haeun clinging to his side, he steps out the packed room to light the nth cigarette, the smoke clouding his vision and making the image of you fade from behind his eyelids. You release your hand from him and disappear. He almost whines. He misses you already. But the faint ache is a reminder.

Instead, in front of him is the only girl he should have truly avoided. Haeun is another reminder. Not because she looks similar to you, you’re way prettier. You’re beautiful.

No, it’s just because he remembers Haeun being his first victim, using her to bury something stronger growing inside him. But it didn’t work then, and it doesn’t work now.

She’s the only girl he tried his luck with to avoid his now unavoidable feelings for you. Then, he physically couldn’t touch another woman beside you. So he started flirting with more cigarettes and alcohol. Maybe some joints then and there.

Jeongguk would love to know why he prefers destroying himself rather than just be the confident man he lets everyone else think he is, go up to you and be honest, like you make it so easy for him to be. The fact that it almost slipped out of him more than a couple times scares him.

It shouldn’t. He wants to fall into that soothing caress, but could he even handle the possibility of you simply, and rightfully if you deemed it the correct choice, rejecting him?

The answer is no. He can’t afford losing your touch on him, your lashes fluttering when you look up at him, your fingers tracing secret maps on his back. He wonders if you’re outlining the safest ways for him to escape from the maze he himself created, of which he forgot the exit to.

With Haeun pressing herself to his side, he thinks he’d rather stay trapped there at this point. A maze built by lies, letting you believe he’s fucking other girls on the side when he feels sickened just by the thought of it, his hand now coming up to push the girl back to a safe distance. Built by insecurities, preferring having you think that you’re simply one of the many he has when he firmly believes you’re the only one that the universe has especially assigned him to.

It’s making him lose his mind, while you live unaware, free from the truth. He’s sure in the stretch that went from yesterday, when you told him about your fucking partner, and tonight, seeing you so close to said partner’s face, your dress custom-made by the hands of every angel populating heaven, Jeongguk developed some kind of clinical illness. The flame of jealousy in his toned tummy has eaten him whole.

And he feels slightly ashamed of himself knowing this is how he found himself circling back to his first poor attempt at running away from you, in the form of a short girl, her eyes now questioning him just like yours had done earlier. Haeun furrows her brows, “Are you seriously doing this again?”

Jeongguk sighs, glancing away to take a long drag from his cigarette that fills his lungs and almost aches. He avoids the eye contact that would be needed for a conversation like the one he’s forced to have — one that wouldn’t have occured in the first place if he could just be a normal person — instead he looks back to the room through the glass doors, “I’m sorry, Hae. I�� I can’t do this—“

“Yo, Gguk. You need to come with me now. ___ is throwing up in the bathroom.”

It’s Taehyung sliding the glass door open with more force than what he usually puts, and right now nobody would tell he’s the same one always advising his friends to be delicate with it. The look on his face is panicked and it quickly reflects in Jeongguk’s eyes, flickering between his friend and Haeun.

Next, his reflexes are quicker. He steps inside the house, skipping past Taehyung and the flood of college students dancing their Friday away to Usher and seemingly not caring about the urgency written all over his expression.

He makes it to the bathroom where people have started to crowd around as if lining up to an unmissable show, and he doesn’t care if his pushes are too rough as he makes his way through.

You’re quite literally hugging the toilet, your face one with the lid as a few girls try and help you with your hair. The moment they see Jeongguk, it’s like they know he’s the one that you need, that he’s finally here and you’re in good hands. He shoots them a quick nod as they step aside and then, he’s immediately crouching next to you, gently gathering your long locks into his fist.

He moves some stray strands behind your ears while you keep letting it all out, and as much as his broad back is enough to hide you from watchful eyes, he can still hear murmurs from onlookers.

It’s as Jeongguk is debating whether he should cuss them out or keep his attention on you that Taehyung comes to promptly clear the crowd, closing the bathroom door behind him only after making sure his friend doesn’t need any more help.

Jeongguk appreciates the gesture, knowing how overwhelmed you can get in these scenarios with too many people around. Although, no matter how calm he appears for your sake, his heart races even as you seem to settle and sit on the tiled floor, your back resting against the cool wall.

You gulp down a few times, squeezing your eyes to try and ground yourself, the way you can feel Jeongguk’s hand hold the side of your leg, his thumb delicately brushing the inside of your thigh, definitely helping.

“Toots,” he whispers, face close to your own, “Hey, doll. You’re okay now, hm? What happened?” His voice is low, slow, almost scared of flowing past his lips.

When you open your eyes he’s directly in front of you, squatting down to stay on your level, and his brows are drawn high in worry.

You sniff, your voice still rough from the scratching on your throat, “Fucking— Jimin. I met him in the kitchen and we mixed too much shit together—“

“Weren’t you with Kim Namjoon?” Jeongguk interrupts you, both his tone and the way his eyebrows now dip inquisitive.

You shrug, looking down at your fingers fidgeting, “Dunno. Why the fuck am I still not sober,” the way you tone the question doesn’t make it sound like one, and you end up giggling at yourself, hiccuping in the process.

Jeongguk sighs, unconsciously tightening his hold around your leg, his fingers digging and making you whimper subtly. He notices, soothing the skin only to take both his hands to scoop you up by your armpits, lifting both your bodies on your feet.

You yelp, throwing your weight on him with another one of your senseless chuckles, looking up at his bothered face through your lashes. He straightens your posture with wide palms on your waist, throwing one of your arms around his shoulders and causing you to step out of the small room on your tiptoes. He grumbles, “I’m taking you back to the dorm now. And we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“Talk about what?”

“Namjoon.”

You stay quiet as the both of you, your body snug against his, walk through the party and out the house to reach Jeongguk’s car. Your thoughts are sluggish, failing to grasp why he’d even want to talk about Namjoon. Isn’t he just a nice guy? You’re more concerned with Jeongguk’s seemingly irked tone and the distressed way his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

A soft, involuntary whine escapes you when you think you might be the reason for that, shuffling yourself closer into his warmth, but the contact is brief as he gently settles you into the passenger seat and clicks the belt, then he closes your door and circles the car to the driver’s side.

Awkward. The only sound that can be heard is the soft hum of the engine, beside the fuzzy buzz in your ears. You feel laughter bubbling up in your chest but you hold it there, turning to study Jeongguk’s side profile. Inhaling, you start, “Can you— can I put on—”

“No.”

Your smile falters, “What? C’mon, give me the aux.”

“The last thing I want right now is to listen to those songs.”

Any previous tipsy instinct that made you want to laugh at the situation fade with his words and the way his grip on the steering wheel says more than what he’s letting on. You’re hazy, but his clenched jaw and laser focus on the road make you sit up straighter, adjusting your slouched posture and the skirt of your dress with it, pulling it further down your thighs.

The tension coming off him feels so heavy that it leads to irrational, childish tears pricking your eyes, and you sound defeated when you whisper, “Are you mad at me?”

He brakes a little too hard at the red light, and you both lurch slightly forward. Jeongguk seems to realize just now that he’s unfairly taking his anger out on you, and the way you let out the question in the smallest voice makes his heart speed up, turning to you with apprehension, “No, toots. No, why would I be? I’m mad at that fucker.”

“He was just talking with some of his—”

“He left you alone. He was supposed to take care of you. Not let you get fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk sounds final, his tone allowing no more condoning nor excuses for the tall guy now left behind you, back at the party. But you don’t seem to focus too much on the meaning of his words, rather you bask in the consequences of them. He’s not upset with you!

That spurs you to contradict him further, this time on the accusation he threw at you, but it’s less than credible when you say it through a sheepish smile that unconsciously made its way on your lips at the protective edge to his tone, “I’m not fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk only sighs, but you can see him visibly relax, shoulders going down and leaning against the back of his seat, right hand coming to pat your bare knee with a small smile on his pierced lips.

You share a look that fully sobers you up only to get you high all over again off his doe eyes, the artificial lights dotting a universe of their own in those orbs, undiscovered galaxies and planets inviting you to move there, even with no water, no oxygen, no way of surviving.

When the soft hue of the red light reflecting on the side of your face morphs to green, he moves his attention back on the road, taking his hand with it to shift gears. Then, he concedes, “Put on the playlist.”

You blink, a little taken aback by his sudden shift in mood, but just as quickly you recover. Your brain seems to be able to focus on one thing at a time either way, so you don’t ponder on your insides collectively moving at the way he looked at you and instead reach for the aux cord, fingers tapping on your phone screen absentmindedly, with a conscience of their own.

Music interrupts the quiet, and you can’t help but join, “The night we met I knew I, needed you so. And if I had the chance I’d, never let you go. Sing with me!”

Jeongguk breaks into a grin, no matter how much he fights it, “You’re so fucking wasted.”

“So won’t you say you love me? I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make ‘em turn their heads every place we go, so won’t you please,” Be My Baby by The Ronettes fills the previous silent tension, which you seemingly already forgot everything about, using Jeongguk’s free hand as your own personal microphone, folding it in a fist between your palms.

Jeongguk would never say it out loud, especially now, after he only pretended he had to be begged to put it on, that he’s actually grown attached to this playlist. Started as a little mishap and turned into something that got under his skin, much like you have.

Its creation came about from a comically embarrassing moment that gave you ammunition to tease him for weeks. Although, he’s glad for it when he reflects deep enough: the whole episode helped shape the bond between you two, adding to its foundation.

He still doesn’t know how you managed to slip so sneakily into his dorm that evening, but what’s sure is that he wasn’t expecting you, taking the time of his life in his bathroom, fresh out of the shower. Simply following his usual routine, one that you wouldn’t have exactly considered usual since you only ever knew him as an avid Drake listener, he hummed along to Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling in Love flowing softly from his phone speaker.

It wasn’t just that, of course, because then he started styling his wet hair in an exaggerated pompadour and fully got into character, strutting dramatic poses in front of the mirror and even practicing Elvis’s iconic curl of the lip. If his soul was by any chance watching over the scene, you’d hoped he’d agree with you that Jeongguk was truly giving Austin Butler a run for his money.

The private show sadly ended when he caught sight of you in the foggy glass, your lips sealed shut to try and hold your delighted laughter, but it got ripped out of you in the form of an obnoxious snort the moment his eyes went wide in horror and his face crimson in shame.

It was hell for a few weeks after that. You didn’t let him off so easily, teasing him for being a secret softie with a love for old-school romance under all the layers of his tough fuckboy image that only ever seemed to handle trappy beats.

When you jokingly suggested he might as well get fully into the act and start calling you toots or something, he didn’t back down from the tease, scoffing at you with narrowed eyes. Somewhere along the way, the dry, sardonic tone with which he first used that pet name on you stuck, and it became less of a joke, more of an endearing way to refer to you, and only you.

Before either of you could second-guess it, the playlist was born. You two crafted it together in fits of laughter and late-night texts, with Jeongguk suggesting songs from his secret stash and you contributing the ones you grew up on.

It quickly became the soundtrack to many of your aimless car rides, something that neither of you acknowledged outright but silently cherished. Sometimes, you’d get so carried away and slip into the roles of a ‘60s couple, playfully reciting cheesy lines back and forth.

No matter how much Jeongguk pretends he hates it to save what’s left of his bad boy reputation, he really doesn’t. Not even a little bit. Even the way he rolls his eyes and groans isn’t enough to hide the spark in his eyes when you sing along.

He feels worse than a pubescent teenager when he lets his guard slip to hear you hum words he can only imagine are just for him, meant in the way he wants. You swing side by side and smile up at him with dimples digging long slits into your cheeks, and he has to act as if it makes him feel completely normal and not like he’s going to crash his car any second.

Each lyric that spills from your mouth feels like it’s tying him down, even with your sweet voice a little unsteady, thanks to whatever is still left from the night’s drinks. You’re so not aware of what it does to him.

Your eyes are on the road, but Jeongguk’s linger on you, his fingers unconsciously tapping the steering wheel to the tune.

“I’d save every day like a treasure, and then, again, I would spend them with you.”

Jeongguk purposefully veers off onto streets he doesn’t need to take, buying himself a few extra minutes with you, but you don’t notice and he pretends to not know either. Would never admit it’s because he wants to hear you sing a little more, and that this ongoing joke between the two of you might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

“But there never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them. Hold on, this one’s a little lower. I’ll find my note, wait,” you’re mostly talking to yourself, cheek pressed to the cool glass of the window, but you glance at Jeongguk as if seeking for approval, clearing your throat, “I’ve looked around enough to know that you’re the one I want to go through time with.”

Just as Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce fades out, Jeongguk pulls into the campus parking lot, turning the engine off and cutting the music with it. None of you move right away, accepting the stillness in the car.

You don’t accept the silence, though, letting your mind speak a thought that has been nagging at you, “Can you fuck me here? Right now?”

The way you voice the request would make anybody who didn’t understand English think you’d just asked for something as mundane as a glass of water, your eyes unfaltering, a small smile on your waiting lips, voice barely slicing through the quiet. It’s almost as if you don’t know it’s the kind of thing that could derail Jeongguk’s entire thought process.

Jeongguk lightly chokes on his own breath, giving a few coughs before turning to you, his tattooed hand messing his hair further, “Jesus Christ, ___. You know I can’t.”

You tilt your head, considering him, as if this is a serious debate rather than drunken rambling, “Why not?”

Jeongguk can only sigh. He takes in your disheveled state and notices the way your exposed skin prickles with the cold, reaching for the leather jacket he carelessly threw on the backseats before heading to the party, having had no idea you’d be the one wearing it by the end of the night.

He wraps it gently around your shoulders, moving sticky, stray strands of hair from your face, “You’re so drunk. Look at you.”

“I told you I’m not,” you protest weakly, but your confidence falters when his fingers ghost over your face.

“There’s vomit in your hair,” he shuts you bluntly, tone softer than the honest words.

“Oh,” your stubbornness doesn’t work this time, and you’re mortified as you glance down at your lap, where his fingers fall to mindlessly play with the zip of his bomber jacket, brushing your tummy in the process. Your voice doesn’t sound so sure now, especially when each subtle graze sends small shocks through you, “That’s disgusting.”

The soft chuckle he lets out has you stealing a look upward, and when you catch his expression your slowed down brain can only come to the conclusion that maybe he doesn’t find you all that disgusting: he sports a rare, wide curve of his bunny smile, eyes crinkling when that same fondness finds its way onto your lips. You can’t help what they do next, a mind of their own as you rest them on his own mouth, the tip of his nose tickling your cheek.

It’s the faintest of kisses, and it’s delicate, fleeting, over far too soon, but you’re the one to pull back first no matter how much longer you need it to be, “That was probably disgusting too.”

As you rest your back on the seat again, his eyes are still closed, and they flutter open as slowly as a smile stretches on his mouth when he meets you. You’re giving him a look he doesn’t deserve, one he shouldn’t lean into.

His voice is a whisper, and it fans over your face, still close to his, “Not at all.”

Gleaming eyes scan every angle of you, as if trying to find anything that’ll hold him back from what he really wants to do. But, of course, his need only grows when he lets his gaze wander down, then up again.

He glances to the side with a gulp, moving his body back to reach for the car door handle, “You think you can walk or should I carry you?”

“Carry me, please,” you mumble, not even pondering on the first option, and the moment the sound leaves your lips he’s out and reaching for your side, opening your door and scooping you up like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The walk to his dorm is a blur, with you dozing off in his warmth and being lulled by the hums escaping him and reverberating through his chest, melodies of the earlier songs playing against your ear.

You regain awareness when a splash of warm water cascades over your now naked body, the sensation startling enough to make your lashes flutter against your damp cheeks. The water runs over your face, washing away the remnants of the night, the drowsy yet oddly light sensation taking over you causing a giggle to echo against the walls.

You’re still too disoriented to process the tenderness with which Jeongguk’s hand moves, brushing through your soaked strands of hair and moving them from where they flattened on your face, combing through the sticky locks.

With half-open eyes, you’re met with the sight of him in front of you, standing close enough without needing to step into the small space with you, his brows furrowed as he works the shampoo through your hair. It’s a soothing, slow motion, the one he massages your scalp with, and it only melts you further into sweet slumber.

If it weren’t for one of his hands resting tightly on your hip, grounding you as the scent of the shampoo mingles with the steam curling around you, you would have gladly swayed into his palm, letting your weak body fall into his strong one.

You sniff, leaning into his care, voice small and oddly sincere, “I’m sorry for,” hiccup, “taking you away from Haeun. You two seem close again.”

Jeongguk stills for a moment, his fingers pausing in your hair before resuming their soft motions. He pretends he didn’t hear, and you pretend you never talked in the first place when he guides you to steady yourself as your knees wobble, “Hey, stand still. You’ll get shampoo in your eyes. Close them.”

You obey, letting your eyelids drop shut as you feel his hand gently tilt your head under the spray, his touch as tender as the words he isn’t saying.

If you weren’t a victim of both sleepiness and alcohol at this very moment, your thoughts would be racing each other like eager contenders in the Overthinker Marathon, each one fighting tooth and nail for the gold medal. They’d be dissecting every little detail of the night— the way Jeongguk had ignored you, his lingering hand on Haeun’s waist, only to be there the second you needed him, the girl from earlier not even worth mentioning.

Instead, your every thinking cell has taken a rare vacation, lounging together on an imaginary green field, clinking glasses filled with leftover cocktails from earlier, lazily watching clouds drift by.

Although there’s one cell in particular, too tipsy to sit still. It hops around gleefully, urging your lips to move before the Thinking Cell General can intervene. The way it jumps up and down, up and down, makes you giggle as you blurt out, “I don’t know if it’s the water, but I’m very wet.”

The silence that follows is thick, punctuated only by the sound of water cascading down your back. Jeongguk freezes as if the words have physically reached out and yanked him into stunned stillness. He can only let his throat bob in a visible swallow and look away, warning you in a strained mutter, “___. This is your last warning. Stop teasing me.”

You whine, pathetically wiggling your weak and pliant body in his hold to seek for some kind of reaction, but he doesn’t budge. He’s uncharacteristically focused on his tasks, ensuring every trace of shampoo rinses from your hair, rather than your hardened nipples bouncing with your stubborn movements.

But you recognise the way his jaw clenches so tight it must hurt, how he refuses to let his gaze wander lower where the steam of water outlines your form. His restraint is razor-thin, yet he holds it tightly, breathing only slightly uneven.

You’re not deterred by his warning; you never are. It’s the tiny tracks in his resolve that keep you pressing forward, voice laced with a vulnerability that makes his hand twitch against your scalp, “Just… I just need your fingers. Please.”

Jeongguk exhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he angles the spray to wash the last suds away, hyper-focused on the practical task as though it’s a lifeline to his dwindling self-control.

But you’re persistent. You reach behind you, fingers messily finding the knob to twist the water off, and with the spray halting you’re left only with the hum of the bathroom fan and the faint drip of water.

Your other hand finds his, guiding his wide palm to rest on your lower stomach, just above where your want is written in every inch of your body. You whisper, plead clear in your tone, ”You know I want this. Won’t ever regret it. I’m conscious enough to be sure of that.”

Jeongguk huffs, his chest rising and falling as he stares down at you, fingers flexing slightly against your skin. He closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as if accepting defeat. He can’t win this battle.

The brown-haired boy steps into the shower, the small space shrinking even further with the addition of his broader frame, forcing you to back up against the wall. Fully dressed, water clings to his fabric, and the contrast of his damp clothes against your bare, exposed skin makes you irrationally wetter.

Jeongguk keeps silent, and at this point you don’t care how desperate you look, pushing yourself against him and getting his clothes wetter in the process. It pushes him to initiate a torturous path along your skin, using his middle finger to trace a journey from your chest, savoring the way your breath hitches, down to your warm core.

The droplets of water he collects on the way are used to spread your puffy lips and press right on your sensitive nub, making you gasp. You’re a trembling mess from the simple motion, and he has to use his free hand to steady you against the wall.

Your breasts aren’t left without being taken care of, because the moment he begins circling motions on your clit that have you seeing stars, he lowers his head to envelop one of your tits in his ravenous mouth, teeth teasing it punitively, all while looking up at you with sliced, sinful eyes.

He’s greedy, and you can’t believe he managed to hide it so well until now. But his resolve crumbles the more he revels in the way you fall apart for him, and he loses control on your chest. The sensation is sharp, delicious, and the contrast between the harshness of his bite and the softness of his tongue has you whimpering.

You’re ashamedly aware of how close you already are, his digits picking a fast speed that urges you to let go and coat him in your juices. He knows, simply from the way you let your mouth fall agape and release loud moans in the steamy air, pushing your nipples further in his swollen lips.

When he inserts one finger in your warm hole, you jolt in his secure hold, eyebrows shot upwards in the shock of your sudden orgasm, one that hits you all too harshly. It drags on deliciously, Jeongguk never wanting it to end, the slurping sound of his sucking on your tits making your surrounding spin, along with his thumb accompanying the way his single digits thrusts into you.

He only stops when you unconsciously run from his doings, slim hand wrapping weakly around his wrist, and he retreats with one last wet stripe along the curve of your boob, promptly collecting your taste from his fingers, and he thoroughly hums around them, eyes closed and cheeks hollowed.

You think you could come again from the sight alone. Panting, you smile through your ragged breaths, “Fuck. Thanks.”

Five minutes later, no one would bet you’re the same girl that begged him for his fingers and came in record time around them. Now, you sit serenely on the toilet lid, wrapped up in Jeongguk’s warmest hoodie. The oversized fabric swallows your frame, knees tucked under it as you hug them close to your chest. You look as innocent as ever.

Jeongguk stands in front of you, meticulously brushing through your damp hair with practiced gentleness, each stroke of the comb a soothing lullaby. You rest your chin lazily on your folded arms, eyes closed, the edges of sleep blurring your thoughts.

You let out a contented sigh before murmuring, words unfiltered, “You’d make the perfect boyfriend. You always take care of me. And kiss me when I need it.”

The motions of the brush stop for a fraction of a second before resuming, and what you hear next is Jeongguk’s throat clearing, his voice low and almost shaky, “That sounds so very wrong, toots.”

“What do you mean?” You don’t open your eyes as you ask the question, the warmth of his presence and the excuse of the last traces of alcohol still flowing in your tired body making you bolder than usual.

“You want me to be your boyfriend?”

“In another life, maybe. Yes,” you don’t waste time replying, words carrying a dreamy quality, “I mean, would be cool.”

“Cool?” He chuckles, but it’s the kind that’s half-exasperation and half-something else entirely, voice strained with an edge of desperation too, “God, I don’t even know why I’m still putting up with you.”

You only nuzzle closer into the borrowed hoodie, giving voice to your next thought, your thinking cells now hosting a 60s themed party, “Be my, be my baby. My one and only baby.”

The sound of your singing fades under the whirring roar of the hairdryer, and Jeongguk is quietly thankful for the way it drowns your sweet hums completely, fearing if he hears another one of those tipsy love confessions leaving your lips he might drop to his knees, undone by something he knows he can’t claim.

You rest your head against his stomach, full weight leaning on his standing figure, his long digits pulling through your strands. If you’d look up at your best friend for even one fleeting second, you’d probably laugh at the concentration on his expression, his only goal drying your hair enough to not have you waking up with a headache the following day.

You sniffle and snuggle impossibly closer to him, the heat radiating from his tummy and the white noise lulling you further into drowsiness, every careful motion of his hand coaxing you closer to sleep.

When your phone pings from the bathroom counter, the sudden buzz makes you jolt slightly. You lift your head sluggishly and gesture toward the phone, mouthing up to Jeongguk, “Pass it.”

He hands it to you without turning off the hairdryer, keeping an eye on your sleepy movements. You blink at the bright light for a moment before your expression shifts, eyes widening.

You’re completely jolted awake at the only notification on your home screen: it's Namjoon.

You tap Jeongguk’s stomach with the heel of your hand— softly at first, then with increasing urgency. The repeated motion forces him to stop the device and place it on the counter as he looks down at you, trying to peek at the screen, “What?”

You hiccup and sniff before blurting out, “Namjoon. He texted me”

The boy that was just now carefully drying your hair scoffs, arms crossed over his chest, “What does that asshole want?”

The response to the rhetorical question doesn’t come, either because you decide to ignore it purposefully or unconsciously: you look totally engulfed by the words on your otherwise empty chat with Namjoon, and Jeongguk can’t help but subtly lean his body lower to read the same texts you’re going through.

Kim Namjoon [4:26 a.m.]: Hey. Sorry for texting late, I heard from someone you threw up back at the party. I’m so sorry. I completely lost sight of you in that mess. Are you feeling any better? Very sorry again.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: It’s totally okay if you don’t want to hear from me again. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to make it up to you.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: I’d really like to take you out on a date. Would you let me?

Jeongguk kisses his teeth irkedly, “Why the fuck does he text like Prince William? Fucking English major,” and he truly tried his best to sound unaffected, but the words leave his mouth before he even knows he’s thinking of them.

Luckily, you don’t seem to notice, reading the message aloud like you can’t quite believe it yourself, “He said he’d like to go on a date with me. Like, he asked me on a date. And said he would like it. To go on a date—”

“Yes, we got it.”

“He doesn’t hate me, Gguk!” Once again, his petty comments go unnoticed as your face lights up, eyes crinkling with joy as you practically beam up at him.

Jeongguk wants to be annoyed, but he simply can’t when he’s met with all the stars in the universe right in your glossy, tired eyes. He swallows hard and forces a soft chuckle, “No, he doesn’t, toots. Anyone would be crazy to hate you.”

The grin on your lips only widens, nose scrunching adorably as you let your cheek sheepishly brush against your shoulder, “Oh my god, Gguk. I’m going on a date with him! Heh.”

“That’s nice,” he says, picking up the hairdryer again before your words can settle too heavily in the space between you. “I’m not finished with your hair, though. Stay still.”

The device roars to life once more, its noise filling the room and covering your excited giggles. Jeongguk keeps brushing through your hair with steady motions, his face impassive, but he feels something tighten, heavy and unyielding in his chest.

He tells himself the noise is a blessing, a shield from the silence he wouldn’t know how else to fill—or from the sound of his own voice, betraying him in ways he can’t afford.

────୨ৎ────

“I’ll miss the sex when Namjoon will ask me to be his girlfriend.”

In the quiet of the library, your sudden whisper startles Jeongguk. The chair screeches under him and it gains the both of you a few annoyed looks. He nods in apology at their way, moving closer to the table again, and he has to blink a few times before he can even meet your eyes. The scattered pens all over the white surface looked more interesting either way.

“When he— his— what?” He feels pathetic for being unable to even form a senseful sentence, but there’s no absolute way he blames his brain for that. It’s his heart, stuttering along with the barely intelligible question.

It cracks at the middle the more your grin splits your face in half, nose scrunching adorably, and he may be a horrible friend but he can’t bring himself to return your irony, nor the masked excitement under it.

If he were handed pen and paper and asked to write about how he feels right at this moment, he wouldn’t put down a single thing. Not because there isn’t anything to say. He fears your innocent teasing has done something catastrophic, snapping that one damned string that connected his brain to his heart, and the two aren’t communicating. Jeongguk is in the middle of two angered parents, fighting and on the brink of divorce. That’s what he gets for being a total pussy.

You shrug, frowning slightly when all you’re faced with is his blank expression, eyes unresponsive and detachedly looking elsewhere, but you keep yours on him, studying even the small movements, “I mean, he’s a nice guy. I think he’s serious about getting to know me.”

The word serious causes an involuntary twitch of his head, tilting almost imperceptibly to the side, and he sounds way too defensive, “And are you?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his unexpected reaction, you return to your previous mindless doodling, keeping your voice low, “Well, he’s cute. Let’s see where this thing goes.”

“What about me?”

The question catches the both of you off guard. Your pencil halts as you glance at him through the corner of your eye, and even if you can’t see him clearly, the way his dark orbs widen is almost comical that you would laugh in any other situation. But now, the air is oddly tense and it makes your nose scrunch in awkwardness.

He breaks it with a chuckle, a subtle tremor in it that luckily goes unnoticed by you but that will probably keep him up at night for the next five years, and he lightly shoves your shoulder in an effort at feigning ease, “You really wanna pass on this dick?”

“God, you’re gross,” the annoyed roll of your eyes has Jeongguk releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding; it’s odd, but that’s just who he is.

The second you return to weightless banter, he’s back in his element. He can smirk, tease and deflect— these are tools he’s mastered over the months. But the thought of stripping naked for your eyes to see, and not in the sexual way you two engage in almost every night, terrifies him.

The waters are safe for what seems a fraction of a second before you pull him down in the deep, dark seas again, this dynamic between you foreign. While it is a simple, innocent question, your deceptive tone triggers unfamiliarity within him, “Besides, how’s it going with you and Haeun?”

“Huh? Oh. Haeun, yes,” his attempt at buying himself extra time is laughable, especially when Mr. Brain is now yelling at Ms. Heart for always wanting to get in the way of things he can handle alone, “Wonderfully. We— She— Huh, kissed me.”

Ms. Heart is furious. She has no other choice but to reach in her purse and slap the divorce papers on the dinner table, the glasses clinking against the plates, and Jeongguk flinches. Brain is speechless, clueless on how to react.

You only seem slightly taken aback, eyebrows raising in mild surprise, “Really? That’s nice.”

Jeongguk is equally clueless, subtly squeezing his eyes shut as if hoping to wake up somewhere else entirely, maybe in an ideal world where Kim Namjoon doesn’t exist and Mr. Brain and Ms. Heart are happily married.

Instead, he’s still in the library, and you’re still sitting next to him, scribbling on your English textbook. He frowns, getting pitiably lost in the view of your side profile, “Yeah, nice. Huh, when’s your date?”

When you glance up at him, you seem to be realizing just how odd it is for the two of you to spend this much time talking about your respective hook ups, and you cringe slightly at the unusual formality, wishing Jeongguk would just tease you like he usually does when you tell him about your untruthful and made up sexual adventures.

You purse your lips in thought, “Tomorrow, actually.”

“Oh. He’s going fast.”

“I like that.”

“I know you do.”

No matter the effort you put into trying to hide your amusement, a snort escapes you, and you quickly look away to recover from the childish grin spreading on your lips. You shake your head, closing the book in front of you, “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Jeongguk only smirks in an oddly proud way, nodding at your flustered state when he realizes he successfully managed yet again to shift the conversation from topics he doesn’t want to hear or talk about. He shrugs, “You just said that.”

“And I’ll say it again.”

“Whatever,” a small chuckle follows the dismissal, his hand coming to brush through his fluffy hair, getting too long for his liking, “I really wanted to see you tomorrow.”

Once again, Jeongguk is way too honest, way too easily. Ms. Heart is marching hastily with Mr. Brain walking close behind, trying to make sense of the situation and pushing her to reconsider her actions, but it’s no use: she’s tired, and sick of being walked over, again and again.

He doesn’t like the underlying meaning behind that, and wishes Mr. Brain would grow a pair and just swoon her back into love again. Jeongguk doesn’t like the genuine surprise etched across your face either, or, well, he doesn’t like the effect it has on him: it’s almost unbearable to accept that the blush dusting your cheeks, the one you’re probably unaware of, is caused by his unfiltered honesty. Because sincere bluntness isn’t exactly something he tries to show. Then, why does it spill out of him uncontrollably? Why— why do you look so beautiful like this?

“Hm,” your smile is small, but your dimple betrays it, Jeongguk’s whole resolve cracking with the way you sound dangerously decisive, “Too bad. You’re late.”

Jeongguk shouldn’t overthink this. You’re simply engaging in the usual dynamic, teasing him like always, no reason for his palms to sweat. He shouldn’t panic over the way nothing about what you said feels simple, nor usual, and your tone carries more than what you both want the words to mean.

He doesn’t know if it’s a warning or a test—or worse, the truth. Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe Brain just misinterpreted the comment, too distracted by its constant squabble with Heart, both of them ignoring Jeongguk, who is still sitting at the cluttered kitchen table with his plate half-full, surrounded by a mess of inky emotions he doesn’t have the courage to clean up.

The sound of forks clinking against plates grates against his ears, drowning out the hurried excuses spilling from your mouth, the ones you’re babbling and making up along the way of gathering your things and standing up from the round table, shouldering your bag in the same hurry you left his room with before the next time he saw you was nose to nose with Namjoon.

You huff, giving a small, tight lipped smile that should be meaningless, but to Jeongguk it isn’t, “I’ll go now. See you around?”

“Huh, sure. Let me know how it goes with Namsun.”

You roll your eyes at the playful attempt, his grin just as empty, “Right. Bye Gguk.”

You’re off the hallway before he can add anything else. Not that he would have been able to. Your bag swings with your big steps, slim hands coming to absently tug your plaid skirt lower, and Jeongguk thinks and thinks.

He realizes he really doesn’t want to know how your little date goes. Would rather shoot himself rather than hearing you talk about another guy taking you out to dinner, stealing you from him and sealing the end to whatever the two of you have.

His options are narrowed. He either commits in front of you and forever changes the trajectory of your life or does something about Namjoon. But why does the option of ending his life sound much easier than stepping up to big, buff Namjoon, infatuated with the same girl he likes?

Oh.

The admission jolts him. It’s a physical reaction that causes his chair to shriek again under his movements, but this time he’s not polite enough to apologize for it. He must look crazy, wide eyes burning holes into his hands planted steadily on the table in front of him.

The girl he likes. You’re the girl he likes.

And every signal is there. The spark he sought for now lights a nervous feeling in his stomach, its fireworks interrupting Brain and Heart’s incessant arguing.

Does he look stupid not doing anything for the girl he likes? Not fighting for the girl he’s been falling for all this time?

────୨ৎ────

It should be easy. It is easy.

Jeongguk can’t let the sleepless night spent reciting lines to his ceiling go to waste. He’s sure not even theater kids could match his determination. And as he marches across campus toward the gym, where the squeak of sneakers and the echo of grunts will lead him to the person needed to put the plan into action, he reviews step by step what he’s told himself to do. It’s a well-rehearsed script, each word, every calculated expression—he’s gone over it a hundred times, accounting for every reaction.

Step one, be casual. Friendly, even. Approach Namjoon like there’s nothing calculated about this interaction—no ulterior motives, no scheme brewing beneath the surface. Just a casual catch-up between two guys.

“What’s up, Kim,” when Jeongguk spots the slightly taller boy exercising at a steady walking pace on the treadmill, he immediately hops onto the free one beside him.

Namjoon startles slightly, then smiles with those stupid, charming dimples of his, and it’s one that Jeongguk would probably only give if forced, “Hey, Jeongguk. Long time no see.”

The brown-haired boy nods, setting the speed and quickly catching up to Namjoon. He keeps his tone deliberately cool, even borderline disinterested, “You been good?”

On his left, your almost-boyfriend shrugs, jogging along, “Yeah, just studying, man. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” he hasn’t cracked open a book in weeks, and that study session from yesterday was just an excuse to be with you. But he can’t afford to let his thoughts linger on you too long or he’ll lose focus. He needs focus. “You catch that last game?”

Step two, pretend to care about what Namjoon is saying and then proceed with the acting skills only to suddenly remember something totally random he wanted to mention.

“Fuck, don’t remind me. I was so sure we would win,” the sweating man sounds way too affected by the recent football match, and Jeongguk fears if he asks one more question for the sake of pretending he’ll never get to the actual point.

So, he goes straight to it, “Yeah, it was rough. Oh, by the way. You know ___, right?”

The simple mention of your name causes a small stutter in Namjoon’s step, but he recovers with the stupid smile from earlier, only this time it’s wider, “Of course I know her. Why do you ask?”

Step three, just be honest. He just has to lay it all out. Be straightforward. Tell him the truth about how he’s felt for so long and what this whole thing with you is doing to him. It’s not a confrontation—it’s a conversation. Jeongguk will politely explain that he’s liked you for a while now, that he’s been in your life long before Namjoon, and, as a courtesy, he’d appreciate it if he would step back from pursuing you.

Civil. Calm. Totally chill. There’s absolutely nothing to get worked up over.

"You really don't know? Have no idea?" Jeongguk asks, his voice dropping, tone more pointed than he intended.

Namjoon slows his treadmill slightly, glancing over with furrowed brows and a faintly amused smile. “No, man. Enlighten me.”

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.”

What. The. Fuck.

That wasn’t the plan. Not even close to the plan.

────୨ৎ────

You feel stupid.

Wrapped around in your warmest coat, you still shiver. It could be the way your legs are exposed under your wool dress, high black boots reaching just beneath your knees. But there’s something else to the chill, making you shake in fading jitters. The excitement of the evening you told yourself you were looking forward to morphs into anxiety, and the passing looks of people mean more than they should as minutes tick and tick; they seem to glance at you for too long, their looks heavy with what you can only imagine is judgment.

A young girl swaddled in small but striking details from head to toe — delicate earrings that catch the light, a scarf knotted perfectly at the neck, polished nails clutching the strap of an expensive-looking bag, hair done up in a neat slicked bun — glancing nervously at her surroundings can only mean one thing: she’s been stood up.

Namjoon was supposed to meet you in front of the cozy cafè just outside the campus, its warm tones and surely even warmer ambience so very inviting. Maybe you’d go in, order a steaming hot chocolate for yourself, and chalk this up as a lesson learned. But instead, you chose to wait outside, shifting on your tiptoes every so often, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the first man to ask you out in what felt like ages.

You feel as though you’ll be forever destined to wait more when thirty minutes go by and Namjoon is nowhere to be seen.

You frown, swaying on your heels. What you feel is not disappointment— not at first. But that only causes you to feel worse about yourself when you realize you’re almost relieved the tall man hasn’t shown up, and he’s not here to turn fears into even scarier realities. The date would have given a concrete meaning to your actions, and the thought stirs something not exactly pleasant within you.

The scratch at the back of your mind grows harder to ignore, and no matter how much you try to shake it off, your subconscious finds ways back to it when your hand instinctively dives into the depths of the expensive purse you had specially chosen for this occasion. A purse meant to complement your carefully selected dark ensemble— an effort that now feels entirely wasted. You spent so much time getting ready for something you’re not ready for at all.

Pulling out your phone, your thumb scrolls to Jeongguk’s number with a natural automatism, typing before you even register why he’s the first person you feel the need to tell.

You [9:39 p.m.]: hi

You [9:39 p.m.]: namjoon stood me up lol

The typing bubbles appear faster than you anticipated, and as you watch them dance across the screen, you burrow deeper into the fragile warmth of your jacket, the tip of your nose numb from the cold.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: Whattttttt????

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: He’s such an asshooooooole

Your first instinct is to snort at his reaction, a childish grin tugging at your lips, but it turns into a scowl when the more you reread the text, the more it sounds weird. He usually never texts like a six-year-old using his mom’s iPad.

You [9:40 p.m.]: yes he is

You [9:40 p.m.]: why are u textin so weird btw lol

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: Wym weirddd

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: I’m totally normal

You [9:41 p.m.]: wtv

You [9:42 p.m.]: u still wanna hang out?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Yes please

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Want me to pick u up

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Where are u rn

The head tilt is unconscious, but you feel it click in place. You’ve mentioned how Jeongguk is caring, how he can read your needs like no one else and caters to them quietly, but he’s never this pliant, this malleable. You like him because it’s hard to get him to bend (and you’d rather die than let Jeongguk know about this).

You [9:43 p.m.]: is ok

You [9:43 p.m.]: i’ll just walk

You [9:43 p.m.]: be there in 10

The walk usually takes you less than 10 minutes, but before meeting him, you decide to head back to your dorm and change out of these stupid fancy clothes you picked out for the date.

You keep your head low as you walk through the hallways, the full glam you put on impossible to miss as it sparkles under the fluorescent lights, just as your boots' heels echo through the corridors.

Taking off the dress and heels feels like peeling away the embarrassment of rejection, the weight of disappointment settling in as you realize you couldn’t prove to yourself that you could do it, that you can do it, take the leap and let something serious into your life.

You question whether you're even cut out for it when the guy who seemed perfect ended up proving the opposite.

Now, back in more comfortable clothes — Jeongguk's black hoodie from the other day and baggy sweatpants — you feel a little more like yourself. Scared of emotions, scared of commitment, no matter how many hours of your day are spent daydreaming about it.

The second you click the door of your room open, it’s like you can smell a weird shift in the air. And you do, literally sniff, scanning your surroundings for any hint of something burning or out of place.

But it’s not about the dorm in its physical state, no— it’s the odd silence that you’re met with, the people you’re used to sharing the space with now uncharacteristically careful with their volume.

“Oh my god, ___,” that is probably why you’re visibly startled by the sudden voice coming from your side, Iseul looking like containing excitement is the hardest task she’s ever been asked to deal with, just like the few other girls behind her, all practically vibrating, “You’re finally here.”

You furrow your brows, chuckling confusedly at the unusuality of it all— well, it’s not like you don’t get along with these people. It’s just that you’ve never gone over meaningless jokes and talks about the state of the dorm, plus you’ve never exactly been the center of attention like this. It feels off, and it reflects in your uncertain tone, “I am?”

“I’m so happy for you,” Binna chimes in next, grabbing your shoulders with way more enthusiasm than the level of your relationship with her would normally allow, and the way all of their heads nod along that it feels like a coordinated performance is starting to scare you.

“You’re… happy for—”

“I’ve always known you and Jeongguk were perfect for each other,” the affection dripping from Binna’s voice sickens you, maybe even more than the words she’s speaking.

Huh?

You swear you feel your heart skip a long beat before you mask it with an obnoxious, nervous laugh, only growing more when none of them crack a smile or react, “Me and— okay, is this a fucking joke?”

“C’mon, ___,” Iseul says, her sweet voice doing nothing to calm your tension, and if anything it only heightens it, “You don’t need to hide anymore, Jeongguk told Namjoon that you’re his girlfriend.”

Oh. So this must be a fucking joke.

And you can’t stand it.

You barely manage to shake off their relentless curiosity, the entire dorm suddenly buzzing with an interest in you after years of peaceful and civil indifference, and it only overwhelms you to the brim.

Fury boils in your chest as you step out of the building, the cold air failing to cool the anger that flares up within you. With every step, your frustration grows, and you hastily type on your phone as you make your way toward the one person that’s responsible for your temper.

You [10:07 p.m.]: what the actual fuck jeongguk

The response comes so quickly, almost as if he were waiting for you to type it, and you scoff in disbelief. In that moment, you feel a twisted sense of understanding with serial killers. It makes you question how much control you actually have over yourself.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:07 p.m.]: What’s up?

You [10:07 p.m.]: why’s the whole dorm asking me how's it like to be your gf?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: Eeehhhh???

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: That’s so weird

You’re actually gonna fuck this man up.

You [10:09 p.m.]: jeon jeongguk.

You [10:09 p.m.]: they’re saying you told namjoon i’m your girlfriend.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:09 p.m.]: Don’t use my full name and the period please 🥺

You [10:10 p.m.]: i’ll fucking kill you.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:10 p.m.]: You’re so hot when you’re like this

You [10:10 p.m.]: shut the hell up.

The banging on his door comes shortly after, and Jeongguk doesn’t even flinch. He knows it’s you, and frankly he was even expecting your arrival to be louder, hit him a little harder than it does. And when he lets you in, you storm in his space with no room for oxygen, door closing behind you but unable to contain the volume of your rage private.

“Can you explain why the whole campus thinks we’re dating? ‘Cause you’re not my boyfriend, and I’m not your girlfriend, and this is not fucking funny.”

But Jeongguk evidently does find it funny, chuckling under his hand coming to cover his mouth while the other one lifts to show you the bright screen of his cracked phone, “Really? The uni Instagram page is shipping us.”

“Shipping us?” You snatch the device from his hands, eyes widening as you scroll through the amount of stories posted in the last hour, everyone and their mother feeling entitled to weigh in on your nonexistent relationship. You whine, a hand resting at your forehead in disbelief, “Oh my god, this is ridiculous.”

“What, are you ashamed of me?” Jeongguk asks casually, walking back and sitting on the bed with a soft thud, his whole demeanor relaxed with a nonchalance that makes your left eye twitch.

You scoff, unwilling to grasp how this is even an actual thing happening to you, tossing the phone back at him, “A little bit, yeah. You think this is a fucking joke, huh? I’m now apparently dating the uni’s most popular fuckboy.”

The damned boy in front of you leans on his forearms, pouting just for show, “Hey, that’s mean. I’m no fuckboy.”

Bag thrown to the ground with a violence that it does not deserve, you start pacing back and forth in his room, letting out a borderline insane laugh, not knowing whether to scream or cry, “Yes, you are. You went through every single girl in this building.”

“Do you really think of me like that?”

The sudden sincerity that you think you spot in his tone makes you halt your steps, body turning to him as he sits straight again, his head tilting slightly.

You sigh, frustration mounting, and you throw your head back at the ceiling for any signal from the universe that this is indeed a joke, a bad, huge joke on you, “Jeongguk. Please.”

Silence fills the room next, but it doesn’t make it any easier to think nor does it quite register in your brain, mind racing with jumbled and chaotic thoughts, barely coming through as coherent words, getting intertwined with one another.

But the more you walk from one side of the room to the other, the more you’re almost able to untangle the mess, just enough to start processing what’s happening.

Then, a nuclear bomb wipes it all out, Jeongguk’s words the missile, his quiet tone the explosion, “I don’t want you to see nobody else.”

“What the fuck?”

The aftermath of the destruction is not only loud, ears ringing with a shrieking alarm going off, your figure stiff with shock, but you feel its heat burning your whole body in consuming flames that threaten to swallow you whole if you don’t let them take over, rise, flood every nerve until all you can feel is the rage boiling in your veins when you practically scream at him, ”What the hell does that even mean? You're being selfish!”

“Am I?” Jeongguk asks calm, calculated, gaze locked on yours as if daring you to challenge him further. His tone is maddeningly measured even as he pushes himself off the bed and closes the distance between you.

It’s like he’s planned this— attack after attack designed to destabilize you completely. Not only did he thrust you into the spotlight without warning, claiming you for the whole campus to see as if you’re worth nothing more than a stupid prank and a few laughs.

But now he talks with a grace that belies the chaos he’s stirred, as if his words are just another fact, something as simple as the weather, “I haven’t been seeing anybody since this summer. Since we started using no condom.”

Your pupils tremble with something far more complex than just anger, though you refuse to give it a name. He’s practically towering over you, his stance purposeful, making you feel small; as if the intensity of his gaze is not enough that it makes you falter, as if the humiliation he’s putting you through isn’t either. Head shaking, your voice does too, “That’s— not true. You’re a fucking liar. You— What about Haeun?

“Nothing even happened with her.”

The speed of his denial sets you off, an incredulous scoff breaking free as you roll your tongue against the inside of your cheek—a habit you’d picked up from witnessing his easy tempers, “Then why did you tell me you kissed?”

“Because—” Jeongguk hesitates, and the pause is so out of character that it almost gives you whiplash. The boy who always has something to say suddenly seems unsure. His hand flexes at his side, a nervous tick you hadn’t noticed before, and he exhales as if the words are fighting their way out of him, “‘Cause— I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Your voice cracks on the word, a laugh bubbling out of you that’s sharp and fractured, borderline unhinged. It cuts through the room like broken glass, and his expression tightens, jaw clenching. But he doesn’t interrupt.

“Jealous,” you repeat, louder this time, your incredulous tone thick with rage. “You’re telling me you made up that bullshit because you were jealous?”

He doesn’t respond, and it pushes you closer to your limit, on the verge of exploding. You don’t know how you find it within you, but with a long exhale and a quick prayer up at the ceiling, you meet his gaze in an almost patronizing manner, “Jeongguk, we are not exclusive. I thought that was well implied. You don’t get to act like this. You don’t get to be jealous.”

Nodding along to your words, Jeongguk’s brows draw together, his expression somewhere between anxious and defensive. There’s something in his eyes, something close to fear, but fear of what, you can’t quite place.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than yours, as though he’s trying to keep it from breaking, “I know. We both agreed to that, yes. We’re both allowed to see other people.”

The words feel rehearsed, like he’s repeated them to himself a hundred times. But with the silence stretching, it’s clear he’s struggling to say more. His lips press together briefly, and his gaze flicks to yours, searching. It’s as though he’s waiting — no, hoping — you’ll interject, offer something to fill the space.

You don’t. You hold firm, tilting your head slightly, your confusion evident. Your wide, questioning eyes, so big, so honest, pull the truth from him in a way you don’t intend, and he exhales like it’s been forced out of him.

“But I don’t want you to.”

The sheer audacity of his words hits you like a slap, the kind that stings more because of its unexpectedness. You snort, although there’s nothing particularly amusing about your heart cracking at the middle, but you manage to keep it from resounding in your words, "That’s so fucking mean. Do you even hear yourself? You get to fuck whoever you want, and I’m kept hostage? And now—now everybody thinks we’re dating!"

"That’s good," he says, simple, unflinching.

You blink, disbelief coursing through you as your lips part in a strangled gasp. "What?" The word is half a whisper, half a shout, and it escapes before you can temper it, "You’re so selfish. I fucking hate you.”

The emotion is foreign from what you’re used to showing him, softness in quiet ways, affection in silent gestures. But now, it’s all loud rage, the opposite of love spilling out of you in volatile waves. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, itching for release, something, anything to make him feel the way you’re being forced to feel, to cut through the weight of his seemingly impassive expression showing only the barest twitch in his brows, a crack too small to satisfy your anger.

It isn’t enough. You need more.

Your palms find his chest, shoving him with the force of every burning feeling inside you. “You’re stupid,” you spit, watching him take the push without exactly budging, like he’s made of stone. It only stokes your frustration further, your hands pushing again, harder this time. “And dumb.”

Jeongguk doesn’t step back, doesn’t fight you. He stands there, his chest steady, absorbing your hits without a word. His lack of resistance only makes the storm inside you rage harder, and the tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over.

You scramble for more, anything to turn the reality of what you truly feel into the illusion of anger, “And— and— Why the fuck are you silent! Say something!” You aim another punch at his chest, but it’s impossibly weaker, the exhaustion showing in your useless attempts at getting at him.

You sniff, and you know you lost against his indifference, your voice wavering feeling like a confession you didn’t mean to make. “Asshole. You’re being so mean. You’re making me cry.”

That’s what finally breaks him. Only the tears slipping rapidly from your eyes get his resolve to crumble. His hands are on you instantly, gripping your shoulders gently but firmly, refusing to let you squirm away. You slap at them weakly, but his touch is steady, his fingers brushing strands of hair from your face, cupping your chin to tilt it up toward him.

“Toots, no. Hey, hey,” he whispers, his tone soft in a way that disarms you completely. His thumb swipes at a stray tear, but your face turns away, evading him like it’s your only line of defense. He doesn’t back down, “Stop crying. Hey, look at me. Will you?”

“Stop calling me that!” You finally snap, jerking your face away again. The tears are spilling faster now, no matter how much you want to fight them, no matter how much you want to cling to the fury. “I hate you. You’re fucking all the girls in this college, and I’m only fucking you, because— because—”

“God,” Jeongguk groans, exasperation dripping from his tone. You’re about to hurl another half-formed insult or maybe even take a swing at him again, aiming low, but his next words stop you cold.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” His tone is quieter now, more deliberate, the vulnerability in it cutting sharper than anything else he’s said. “I like you. I broke the rule.”

You’re sure your heart will fail you today. It misses at least four beats, and it steals the oxygen from your lungs, along with the color from your face.

You stammer, eyes widening as your pulse picks up again and pounds in your ears. “Don’t—don’t say shit like that. I swear to God, I’ll actually fuck you up. Stop—lying to me.”

“What the fuck, ___? I’m not lying to you,” Jeongguk’s voice attempts to be steady but it can’t hide the desperation, as if he’s holding on by a thread. “Why would I?”

The question is simple.

Why would Jeongguk lie to you? Does he have a reason to fake this?

The world seems to tilt, the ground beneath you shifting in some irreparable way.

You should feel scared. You should feel repulsed at the thought of commitment, the weight of his words pressing against you like a cage. But you don’t.

Instead, your eyes dart between his, searching for cracks in his sincerity, like a frantic spectator watching a tennis match, every glance like a volley in the game of something bigger than either of you. The matchpoint sends a thrill through your chest, something overwhelming and terrifying but not unwelcome.

Jeongguk watches you closely, feeling the weight of the silence between you stretch on longer than he can handle. He knows he’s the one that should break it, knows the truth he’s holding inside has to be spoken now.

It’s now or never. He can’t keep pretending—this isn’t just some casual thing to him, and he’s not ready to let it slip away without a fight. You’ve become everything he didn’t know he needed, and yet here he is, paralyzed by the fear of rejection, of being vulnerable, of watching the one thing he wants most slip right through his fingers.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? If he doesn’t speak up now, he’ll lose everything. His fear has no place in this moment anymore.

It’s a long exhale before his voice drops in soft honey, shaking with the weight of the truth, “Look. I know it’s hard to trust me. You’ve seen me fuck up multiple times over this stuff. But I want to stop this cycle. I want to allow myself something good,” his eyes search for any signal that he should stop talking, but in yours he finds every reason for him not to, “And you’re everything good that life will ever concede me. I can't… I can't let you go. I can't lose you.”

"Jeongguk…" His name slips from your lips like a prayer you've been too afraid to speak aloud until now. But you see it— he’s ready to find every solution, even if it means confronting the fear that has held him back for so long.

“I like you so much it’s killing me,” he admits, voice low and raw, every syllable cracking with vulnerability.

It’s a slow realization, like a tide that comes in quietly, softly. You’ve felt its caress for so long, and now that it embraces you wholly, you feel your heart expand, filling with the same warmth, the same longing.

The words you wish you could say are caught in your throat. You look up at him, eyes wide, trying to comprehend, to take in what he’s offering. You’re almost afraid to ask, as if the answer will shatter something you’ve worked so hard to protect, “You like me?”

“I lose my fucking mind when it comes to you.” His confession is a rush of honesty that sweeps through you, his eyes not leaving yours, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks.

The world feels like it’s slowing down. There’s so much you’ve been holding back, but you don’t know how to make the words fit, how to make them sound right.

Jeongguk takes a small step back, his voice quieter but still heavy with emotion. “It’s okay if you wanna end it here,” he murmurs, his words barely above a whisper, like he’s bracing for the worst. “At least it wasn’t because you got with some other stupid guy.”

You shake your head, the thought of losing him too painful to bear. “Stop—” You let out a frustrated sigh, hands curling into fists at your sides. “God, you’re so dumb. This could have been so much easier if you’d told me sooner.”

He looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

You feel your chest tighten, the truth slipping out before you can stop it. “I like you too,” you admit, the words finally leaving your lips hastly, like they were just waiting for the right moment. “I agreed to the date because I thought you were still… fucking around.”

His face softens, and there’s a flash of relief in his eyes. “I wasn’t. Haven’t been in so long.”

“...No Haeun?”

“Hell no. I don’t want no kiss if it isn’t from you.”

You laugh, a low sound that fills the air between you. “Cheesy fucker,” you tease, but there’s a warmth in your chest now, a feeling you can’t ignore. “Well, if you want to know, I wasn’t seeing anybody either. Namjoon asked me out randomly, but I haven’t been with anyone else since… this started.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, everything is quiet. He looks at you like he’s just heard something he never expected to hear. “Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Jeongguk steps closer to you, his hands reaching for you, voice thick, “I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant to make you cry. It’s breaking my heart.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, gently wiping away the remnants of the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with both regret and tenderness. “It’s okay,” you say softly. “I’m sorry for yelling all that stuff at you. I don’t hate you. I…”

Before you can finish, his lips crash against yours, and all the confusion, all the fears, prove themselves to be worth this moment.

They dissolve into something real, the kiss trying to make up for lost time, for all the things left unsaid.

When you pull away, your foreheads resting together, Jeongguk’s voice is quiet but determined. “Come here, baby. You’re mine.”

“Prove it.”

6K notes · View notes

tonycries · 1 year ago

Text

Brooklyn Baby - G.S.

Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.

Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)

A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves*

Art by @_3aem on X.

Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.

You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances.

And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did.

You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles.

Whatever, part of the job anyway.

It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex?

Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances?

“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you.

If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow.

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”

You were not jealous.

Suguru knew you were jealous.

Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?

He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him.

That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears.

The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?

Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.

“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?

He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson.

Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.

The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”

“Oh?”

“Wanna help me with it?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles.

Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room.

“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.

It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt.

“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously.

“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.”

In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”

“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.

He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.

Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over.

“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers.

You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings.

Suguru was definitely losing his sanity.

Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.

He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers.

Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”

He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist.

“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly.

“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”

Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close.

His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.

God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.

Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones.

Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.

“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.

You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.

“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.

Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.

Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs.

His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases.

Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him.

You have no idea what you do to him.

Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive.

“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display.

You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you.

He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.

Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers?

Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.

Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.

“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.

You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.

Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.

He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside.

Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.

Shit, he was really feeling it today.

Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief.

You were, too.

If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.

“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off.

“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.

He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out.

Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock.

“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.

“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.”

“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”

“Yes.”

At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for.

“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds.

It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt.

He just can’t get enough.

He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size.

“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”

“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans.

Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder.

Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.

“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings.

He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base.

His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.

You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe.

He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart.

“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.

Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear.

Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”

Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.

As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.

“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.

He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.”

Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good.

The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band.

Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.

Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.

In this moment it felt like just you two in this world.

You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else.

Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point.

“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer.

“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips.

“Be mine.”

And that’s all Suguru ever wanted.

With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his.

Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.

As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.

Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail.

Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.

“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.

The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes.

Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-”

“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.

“Ah- um-”

“You-”

Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.

“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time.

Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”

“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice.

Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.

“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces.

‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.

Blinding lights.

Deafening screams.

Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.

But he only wanted to fuck you.

A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jjk #geto suguru #tonywrites

7K notes · View notes

rpwprpwprpwprw · 19 days ago

Text

jeon jungkook fanfics: weekly recommendations edition 💌

hey this is my… new long… very long.. list of recently readings! let me know what you guys think cause this took forever to organize 😭 💋 (also is the letters too small?

jungkook masterlist

🌟 swipe right by @ppersonna (genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers | completed)

summary: after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

my review

🌟 stuck with you by @aajjks (genre: crack, 18+) | ongoing (?)

summary: Imagine being stuck in a room with a walking nightmare who really wants to fuck you.

my review

🌟 what’s your name again? by @solarhysm (smut, oneshot) | completed

summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.

my review

🌟 teach me how to love by @kookooluvr (genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments) | pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers | ongoing

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

my review

🌟 webbed heartstrings by @focusonkayjay (genre/Tags: spiderman/ campus heartthrob! jungkook, college student! reader, friends (but not exactly) to lovers, i think they're in a situationship, spiderman au, spiderkook au, angst, fluff) | ongoing

my review

🌟 fuck me up by @jungkoode (genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut with plot, fuck buddies) | ongoing

summary: When your search for affordable NYC housing leads you to apartment 6B, you think you've hit the jackpot. That is, until you realize your new roommate is the guy from that one wild night on January - the one who ruined you for anyone else. Now you're stuck sharing walls with the living embodiment of your worst mistake, and the sexual tension is thick enough to choke on. Between his emotional damage and your trust issues, this arrangement is a disaster waiting to happen. But hey, at least the hate sex is phenomenal.

my review: my review my review

🌟 letting fear run the show by @focusonkayjay (genre/tags: fuckbuddy! jungkook, secret friends with benefits to lovers, angst, fluff, smut) | completed

my review:

🌟 playing the part by @goldenchimmy (genre: smut) | older!jk x reader, age gap | completed

summary: needing money for college, you come across an ad for a female escort. You didn't expect the person posting the ad to be a rich, older man.

my review

🌟 mutt by @letsbangts (genre: smut, angst, friends with benefits au) | fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk | completed

summary: when you realize you can’t teach an old dog new tricks

🌟 answer your phone by @letsbangts (genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au) | fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk | completed

summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

🌟 the jorts by @gukslut (genre: Established Relationship/fluff/smut) | completed

my review

🌟 back and forth by @gukslut (genre: smut/fluff) | completed

my review

🌟 the speedo by @gukslut (genre: fluff/smut) | completed

summary: JK has fallen in love. Too bad the object of his affections thinks he’s a fuckboy who gets blowjobs in women’s locker rooms. How did Jungkook convince his future wife to give him a chance when none of his usual tricks work?

my review

🌟 freak - quency by @gukslut (genre: Smut/fluff, Sub!JK, Rockstar!JK AU, PWP) | completed

🌟 beyond the job by @kooggukk (genre: ?) | girl dad!jk x reader | ongoing

summary: babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

🌟 vampire boy by @smartkookiee (genre: smut/supernatural) | vampire!Jungkook x human!Reader | ongoing

summary: So your boyfriend is a vampire…It’s actually not too different than having a human boyfriend. He is kind and caring and genuinely loves you. He’s just a touch afraid of garlic and he’s kind of cold. Other than that everything is the same and you couldn’t ask for anyone better. You cannot imagine spending your life with anyone else, except… it would be only your life going on. which wasn’t a problem… right

my review

🌟 true love by @lovieku (fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l) | tattoo artist!jk x reader | ongoing?

summary: when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

my review

🌟 get him back by @inthelow (genre: fake relationships trope, kinda growing up womanhood thing, female rage (a LOT of female rage), funny but cringe in the same way, a lot of drama - in a comedy way but also very shitty things - a lot of bad jokes and some angst ) | f!producer/writer reader x idol!jungkook | ongoing

summary: after a hard breakup with who you thought would be the one, the only thing in your mind was a sad playlist of Taylor Swift songs and red wine. But, what happens when your neighbour- who is done of hearing you cry at 2 am in the morning - puts the idea in your head of getting your ex back? but with a good and sweet revenge… of course everything will be easier if you didn’t have any feelings for your ex and if your neighbour wasn’t a superstar idol who doesn’t have a problem at pretending to be your boyfriend to piss off that ex - who also happens to be his ex best friend -. What a mess, right?

my review

🌟 motive by @luvismenu (genre: smut, written) | brother's best friend , e2l , childhood friends

suqmmary: jungkook is your brother’s best friend, someone you’ve grown up with. the two of you have a knack for clashing, always throwing attitude and finding ways to piss each other off. yet, there’s a connection neither of you can ignore.

my review

🌟 sthings attached (to my heart) by @jungkoode (genre: smut, superhero, spider-man au) | spiderkook x reader | ongoing

summary: You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

my review

1K notes · View notes

fushiguro-megloomy · 2 months ago

Text

strawberry wine

[part 2] pairing: modern au!viktor x artist!reader prompt: “if somebody were to kiss me, i’d want that person to be you” tags: you're jayces childhood bff, no use of y/n, alcohol, heavy kissing, drunk kissing, basically just a bunch of buildup towards a smutty fwb part two???, viktor being a menace wc: 4k notes: AU where nobody is sick or dying yay! also i think i managed to keep this pretty gn!reader but any future parts will be afab/fem art is from pinterest, dividers from chachachannah & webc00re

You never meant for things to get this far. You told yourself it was just a little fun, harmless and fleeting—nothing more. You had a career to focus on, friendships in the balance. But now, here you are, pacing the living room carpet thin, your cuticles raw from nervous chewing, and your thoughts spiraling into places you swore they’d never go.

It feels juvenile, almost laughable, like some smitten teenager waiting by the phone and sneaking kisses in shadowed corners. You were supposed to be above this, weren’t you? I mean, as a grown adult you should know how to keep it casual, uncomplicated.

But nothing about this is simple anymore. Not the friendship. Not the secrets. And certainly not the way your heart betrays you every time his name crosses your mind.

It definitely wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Moving back to the city hadn’t been on the bingo card for this year, but here you were. Your life had been tucked away in the quiet of rural landscapes, where your art had room to breathe—endless skies, rolling hills, and the kind of solitude that made inspiration flow without any distractions. But your career had expanded, and with that expansion came the relentless pressure of galleries, art buyers, and a future that demanded more from you than that peaceful escape ever could.

So, the city had called you back. Concrete towers, crowded streets, the city offered more. Shows. Opportunities. Jayce. The only thing about this cold, steel jungle that still felt like home. Jayce—your childhood friend, your constant in a world that had never stopped changing. Thrown together since you were practically in diapers, he was the one piece of your old life that had somehow survived the years and distance between you two. And now, after what felt like an eternity, here he was, sprawled across your tiny couch, looking too comfortable for someone who was just supposed to be a guest. The apartment was a bit small, as city apartments tended to be—packed between towering neighbors—but Jayce’s presence was the only thing about it that felt remotely like home.

"You know," he said, half-lounging. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

You didn’t look up from your canvas, your brush already dipping into the paints like second nature. “Who?”

“Viktor”

You paused, only long enough for your brush to hover midair before you flicked your gaze in his direction. “Ah, yes. The famous business partner.”

Jayce’s grin didn’t falter, but there was something softer behind it now. “Yeah, something like that. But seriously, he’s a good guy. Brilliant, actually. You two would get along.”

You didn’t reply at first. Instead, you let the brush finish its arc, eyes back on your work, moving with the rhythm of a familiar task. “mhm” you murmured, distracted by the way the strokes of paint were bleeding together. “If he’s anything like you, how bad can it be?”

But Jayce, of course, wasn’t done. His voice took on that soft tone he reserved for moments when he really wanted to get his point across. “I’m serious, okay? I want you two to meet. You both mean a lot to me, and I think you’ll really hit it off.”

You didn’t look up, but you felt a weight behind his words, pushing against you with silent pressure. “Yeah? I’m sure it’ll happen, then.”

Jayce’s eyes lit up, a flash of triumph in them, like he’d just won some small but important battle. “You’ll see. I’m telling you—when you meet him, you’ll click. I know it.”

You leaned back in your chair, releasing a slow exhale, the kind that said everything without saying anything at all. A nonchalant nod was all you offered, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of saying more. “Fine. Fine. I’ll meet him. But don’t make a whole thing out of it.”

Jayce chuckled, and there was an odd note of relief in the sound, like he’d just been granted some unspoken permission. “No big deal, I swear. But you’ll see. You two are more alike than you think.”

When you finally did meet Viktor, Jayce was practically vibrating, his energy as unsubtle as ever. It had been after one of your gallery openings, a night you’d half-dragged yourself through on fumes and politeness. Your heels had barely cleared the threshold of his apartment before the faintest twinge of suspicion began to creep in—something about the way he hovered, grinning like a man with a secret.

“You deserve a good meal after tonight,” Jayce had said, ushering you in with the kind of charm that usually preceded one of his schemes. “Thought you’d want to celebrate somewhere that doesn’t reek of overpriced wine and small talk.”

You rolled your eyes but let yourself be corralled, the promise of food outweighing the odd note in his voice. His large apartment, at least, was familiar territory: warm, cluttered with bits of tech and sentimental junk from years past, the faint scent of whatever candles he refused to admit he hoarded lingering in the air.

And then you heard it—the low murmur of another voice, sharp-edged and vaguely amused, drifting from the kitchen.

Jayce froze, his grin faltering for a split second before it reappeared, brighter than ever. “Oh, right,” he said, far too casually. “Viktor’s here.”

You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. “You conveniently forgot to mention that part.”

“Come on,” he pushed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the source of the voice. “It’s no big deal. Just dinner. You’ll like him, I promise.”

And there he was, perched by the kitchen counter with a faintly perplexed look on his face. He was slimmer than you’d expected, pale and sharp-featured, with hair that looked like it hadn’t met a comb in days. His amber eyes flicked up to meet yours, narrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that had just been placed in front of him.

“Ah,” he said, his accent lilting and crisp, “so this is the infamous artist.”

You shot a glare at Jayce, who was already heading for the stove with the kind of forced cheer that made it painfully clear he’d orchestrated the whole thing. “You owe me for this,” you muttered under your breath, stepping further into the kitchen.

Viktor’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk appearing. “And here I thought I was being ambushed. Seems we’re both victims of his enthusiasm.”

Jayce turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, his expression utterly unrepentant. “You’ll thank me later.”

The dinner was simple but undeniably good—Jayce’s doing, of course. The man couldn’t let anyone step into his apartment without insisting they be properly fed, and tonight was no exception. Roast chicken, buttery vegetables with rice, warm bread that filled the space with its yeasty aroma—it was the kind of meal that made you feel at home even when you weren’t.

Conversation flowed easily around the table, mostly carried by Jayce, but Viktor wasn’t exactly quiet, either. He had a way of chiming in at just the right moment, his dry humor landing squarely between Jayce’s more exuberant anecdotes and your own occasional contributions.

“You mean to tell me,” Viktor said at one point, leaning back slightly in his chair, “that Jayce still hasn’t learned to cook rice without burning it? After all these years?”

Jayce, halfway through explaining some disastrous culinary attempt from his youth, turned to glare at him. “Excuse me, this rice was cooked perfectly.”

“It was fine,” you agreed, though the memory of a slightly crunchy bite or two made your lips twitch in amusement.

Viktor’s amber eyes sparkled as he gestured broadly. “Oh, fine! A glowing review, truly. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Jayce groaned, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” Viktor said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here I am. Invited to dinner. Again.”

Jayce just rolled his eyes and went back to his story, leaving you to glance at Viktor with a small smile. He caught it, of course, and gave a little shrug as if to say, what can you do? For all his sharp humor, he was easy to talk to, his wit balanced by an underlying warmth that kept him from coming off as too cutting.

Which was why you were only mildly surprised when the spoon incident happened.

Dinner was winding down, Jayce had disappeared into the kitchen to fuss over coffee, leaving you and Viktor to handle the cleanup.

He moved with a surprising ease, balancing a stack of plates in one hand, his cane steady in the other. It was a casual sort of competence, as though he’d long since adapted to whatever limitations life had handed him. You hadn’t thought much of it, impressed by how naturally he maneuvered, until the soft clatter of a spoon hitting the floor broke the quiet rhythm of tidying.

“Ah,” Viktor said, glancing down at the rogue utensil with a faint frown as he set down the plate stack. “Of course.”

You paused mid-step, glancing between him and the spoon. “Need a hand?”

He tilted his head, his expression a little too innocent. “If it’s not too much trouble. You know, the leg and all...”

“Oh, for—” Jayce’s voice floated from the kitchen, half-annoyed but not quite committed to intervening.

You sighed, setting down the napkins you’d been folding. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got it.”

But just as you crouched down, Viktor shifted. A casual tap of his cane sent the spoon skittering across the floor, its metallic clink faintly echoing as it landed farther away.

You froze, staring at the spoon in disbelief, then turned your gaze to him slowly. “You’re kidding.”

Viktor’s lips twitched, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. “What?”

“You just—”

“What?” he repeated, wider-eyed this time, his free hand gesturing vaguely toward his cane. “I’m handicapped.”

Jayce reappeared in the doorway, a coffee pot in hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face. “Viktor.”

“What?” Viktor said again, his voice laced with mock indignation. “I am!”

Jayce muttered something unintelligible as he poured coffee, his focus shifting between you and Viktor like he couldn’t decide which one of you deserved his scolding more. Meanwhile, you straightened, crossing your arms as a grin tugged at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you said, stepping across the room to retrieve the spoon—again.

“Very generous,” Viktor agreed, his tone breezy. “Honestly, it’s quite inspiring. Jayce, you should take notes.”

Jayce groaned, setting the coffee pot down with a little too much force. “You’re both ridiculous.”

But you were already laughing, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. As you returned the spoon to the table with a pointed look, Viktor gave you a small, almost triumphant smile. And maybe, you could see what Jayce meant when he’d said you’d get along.

The first time you realized you might feel more than just friendship for Viktor was when you noticed the way your sketches had started to change.

It had been weeks—maybe even a couple of months—since that dinner with Jayce, when you had awkwardly danced around each other, getting to know one another. The initial weirdness had faded into easy companionship, and you found yourself spending more time with Viktor than you expected. You hadn’t quite noticed it happening, but somewhere along the line, you’d become an unintentional trio. Jayce had been bursting with barely-contained glee at how easily the two of you seemed to get along, and it made your chest warm, knowing how much that mattered to him. It felt... right, this newfound ease between the three of you, a quiet sort of harmony that made you smile more than you expected.

But as the days passed, something shifted without you realizing it. You were at home one evening, flipping through your sketchbook, the soft pastel dust smudging the edges of the pages as your fingers moved. The forms you’d drawn were abstract models, capturing shapes and shadows in a fluid, organic way. It wasn’t anything new—nothing that stood out. But then, you stopped.

There, in the shadows of the page, you saw it.

The subtle arch of a jawline. The curve of lips that you knew too well. Even the moles, small and almost unremarkable, but there they were—on the page, right beneath your fingertips. You blinked and flipped to another sketch, only to see it again. A line here, a shadow there. It wasn’t him exactly, but it was.

To the untrained eye, maybe it wouldn’t have been obvious. Hell, maybe even to you on any other day, it might’ve gone unnoticed. But now, in the quiet of your studio, the shapes were almost unmistakable. The soft angle of his nose, the way his eyes looked when he was thinking too hard, the way his smile would pull up on one side when he was being particularly smug.

You frowned, setting the sketchbook down, your hands hovering above it as if it had betrayed you. Was this some kind of coincidence? Or was it something more, something you had been avoiding realizing? You’d never consciously set out to draw him, but there he was, tucked into the lines and curves of your art like an uninvited guest you hadn’t known you were entertaining.

It was ridiculous, you told yourself. Of course it was just... coincidence. But even as you tried to convince yourself, there was a small, unspoken truth sitting in your chest, heavy and undeniable, and the first time you realized Viktor might see you as more than just a friend was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it hit you all the same.

He mentioned a piece you’d shown him, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve been doing something different lately. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a change. It’s...” His gaze flickered to yours, then dropped back to the floor, but the brief flash in his eyes sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. “...more. More than what you usually show.”

The words themselves were harmless, even complimentary, but it was the way they hung between you that made something inside you stir—something you couldn’t name, not yet. You didn’t think much of it at first, but the way his eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary made your breath catch. The way the corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile, not teasing, but... fond.

It was a simple thing. A fleeting moment. And yet, it lingered in your mind as you retreated to your apartment, your thoughts whirling with the possibility that Viktor—your friend, the one you had so casually laughed and bantered with for months—might be seeing you differently, too.

The shift was subtle, but it was there. And it unsettled you more than you cared to admit.

Everything came to a boiling point one night at your apartment. You’d ventured into town earlier that day, mostly for a change of scenery, and happened upon a small farmers market. You couldn’t resist grabbing a few bottles of strawberry wine, its sweetness and fruity undertones practically calling your name. Jayce had scoffed at it when you got back, claiming it was too sugary to have any real punch. “There’s no way I’ll even get drunk off this,” he’d muttered with a dismissive wave.

An hour later, he was sprawled out on your pullout, snoring softly with a stupid grin plastered across his face. You and Viktor stood nearby, both trying—and failing—to suppress your amusement at how quickly Jayce had succumbed to the wine’s effects. For all his size, Jayce was a surprising lightweight.

“I swear, every time,” you said, laughing quietly.

Viktor, leaning against the doorway, gave a soft chuckle. “Some people just don’t know when to stop.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the slumbering man. “Guess we let him sleep it off.”

“Let him have his beauty rest,” Viktor teased, his voice light as he nodded toward the bottles. “We can always finish it ourselves.”

So you did, winding up on the roof with the cold night air around you. The worn-out couch up there had seen better days, but it was still enough to settle into and talk, a simple quiet comfort settling over you both. The soft glow of string lights and the silvered moonlight made the world feel like it was wrapped in a quiet hush despite the never ending sounds of the city. You both settled into the couch, the cushions sinking in the middle, which pushed you just a little closer to Viktor than you'd anticipated.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was easy, like you had spent years in it. You noticed how close you were sitting now��your thighs pressed together, and when you passed the bottle of wine, your fingers brushed his. A small spark of awareness ran through you each time, and you tried to ignore it, feeling your face warm despite the cool air.

The wine was sweet, fruity, and a little stronger than you expected, especially when you found yourself reaching for another sip and another, the soft buzz in your head gradually growing stronger.

By the time the bottle was halfway gone, you were both leaning more heavily into the couch, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how little wine was apparently needed to bring Jayce to the brink of passing out. You felt... lighter. Almost giddy, as if the laughter that came so easily was spilling out along with the alcohol. And Viktor, sitting just beside you, didn’t seem to be immune to it either. His face was flushed in the soft light, his lips curling into an easy smile.

“You know,” you said, leaning back and feeling the warmth of the couch soak into your bones, “I don’t do this enough. I’m so... wrapped up in work and life and... I just forget to relax.”

Viktor tilted his head, eyes slightly narrowed as he watched you. “Relaxing can be overrated,” he said with a smirk, the words a little slower than they’d been earlier. He took another drink from the bottle, his thumb brushing against the glass in an unconscious rhythm. When he passed it to you, your fingers brushed once again, and you lingered just a bit longer than necessary.

“Well, maybe for you,” you chuckled. “But, for me, it’s like... it's like a luxury, I guess. You know? I don’t remember the last time I just sat with someone and... and didn’t feel like I had to be somewhere or do something.”

“You eh–... don’t have to worry about that here,” Viktor said quietly, his voice light, with that usual teasing edge. But something was different in his tone, something that made the words feel heavier than they should have been. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air seemed to shift, the quiet between you stretching into something almost… charged.

You took another sip, your hand a little unsteady now. The whole situation felt absurd—awkward, even, yet strangely intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. Your gaze drifted toward his lips without thinking. It was brief, but enough to send a flutter through your stomach, and suddenly, your mind couldn’t focus on anything but that soft, confident curve of his mouth. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was something else entirely, but you couldn’t seem to think straight anymore.

Viktor shifted closer again, and the couch beneath you groaned as it sank with the weight of it. The space between you closed, and you could feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours shoulder to shoulder, like the alcohol spreading through you, making your pulse quicken.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His presence was a solid thing beside you. His eyes were locked on yours, studying, but still so calm. You could feel the punch of his gaze on you, like it was seeping through your skin, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t just the wine now—you could feel it all over, heat blooming beneath your skin, making you fidget slightly.

“Sometimes… you get caught up in what you’re doing, and you forget about everything else,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your nerves were tightening your chest. “I’ve been focused on my career and—god, I’ve probably been a little… I don’t know, closed off.” You laughed lightly, but it was nervous, unsure of where this was even coming from. But suddenly all your senses were barraged by him, his smell, his eyes.

“I just—I haven’t thought about it. Relationships, I mean. Not in a long time. I don’t know if I’m even ready for anything like that. Not now, not with everything I’m doing.” You trailed off, self-conscious, suddenly feeling like you were saying too much, rambling without stopping. The words seemed to just slip out of you, tumbling over each other.

You took another shaky breath, your heart thudding in your chest as you tried to make yourself stop, but you couldn’t. It was like you were helpless.

“And, I mean, if anybody were to kiss me…” You faltered, realizing too late just how much you were giving away. Your pulse quickened, your thoughts jumbled as your mouth just kept moving. “I would want that person to be you.”

The air between you thickened, the silence stretching long and heavy. Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous rhythm that drowned out everything else. You waited for him to say something, to break the tension that was suffocating you. But there was nothing. Just the weight of his gaze on you, steady and searching.

When you finally dared to glance at him Viktor's expression was unreadable. One thick eyebrow was cocked slightly, and his mouth hung open just enough to suggest he was about to say something, but didn't. He was so close but somehow the distance between you felt infinite.

You opened your mouth to say something, to fill the silence, but before you could speak, his hand moved, his fingers brushing against your jaw in the gentlest touch. The sudden warmth of his palm made your breath catch, and before you could even fully process it, he was pulling you in. His lips met yours, soft at first, as though testing the waters, as if the moment itself was delicate. But that softness didn't last, between the buzz of alcohol, the closeness, the heat between you—it all blurred together. The kiss deepened, quickly turning urgent, hungry. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the bottle slipped from your grasp, its clang against the concrete floor echoing in the quiet of the rooftop

You didn't care. You were too lost in the feeling of him against you, his lips moving against yours with a desperate kind of need. The kiss grew messier– clumsy, teeth scraping, tongues tangling. You could taste the faint sweetness of wine on him, the mix of flavors making everything feel dizzying overwhelming.

You found yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge your bodies together, desperate for the contact, for whatever it was that had been building between you two for so long.

The next day was a harsh slap of hangover reality. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, and every time you glanced at Viktor across the room, your stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with the booze.

Jayce, of course, was none the wiser. He chatted away over breakfast like nothing had changed, blissfully unaware of the shift that had unraveled everything you thought you’d had under control. And you? You were wholly committed to keeping it that way. It was a one-time thing, you told yourself. Just a fleeting, drunken thing—something you could both quietly bury and move on from.

At least, that was the plan.

Until it happened again. And then again.

Now it feels like a thread being pulled tighter and tighter, until you’re not sure if you’re going to unravel completely or snap under the weight.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. But here you are. And you don’t know how to stop.

©lilsworks 2024

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor #arcane #viktor x you #arcane x you #arcane fanfic #viktor fanfic #fwb #friends with benifits #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor #arcane fic #viktor fic #arcane x reader #lils work #mine #strawberry wine

2K notes · View notes

gucciforasushirestaurant · 4 months ago

Text

Like You Mean It | H.S

summary: you're tired of only ever meeting trash men, but your best friend and roommate harry shows you that there are still good guys out there, and what it really means to be a giver.

word count: 5.3k

reading time: 22 min

content warning ⚠️: housemate/bff!harry au, nonfamous!harry, friends to lovers, shitty men (not harry), smut, fluff, fingering, penetration (p in v), very light D/s dynamics (if you squint), softdom!harry, dirty talk, nicknames (baby, babe), very light degradation/humiliation kink (if you squint)

a/n: i saw a text post that said “girl don’t text that man. make yourself cum and forget about him.”(solid advice lol) and then this happened. also not to be an astrology girlie but he’s an aquarius with libra placements….this man is the perfect fwb.

“Harry, can I get a man's perspective on something?” you ask, turning to Harry next to you on the couch. You had begged Harry out of his room for a movie night as a ruse, but your nose had been buried deep in your phone the whole night. Re-reading and overanalyzing old text messages between you and the object of your anxiety.

You don’t often go to Harry for help with men, but his advice on other areas of your life is always sound, and you respect his opinion.

“If you’re asking me for help, he’s not worth your time.” He sighs, not looking away from the movie, hugging a pillow to his chest.

“I’m serious, I need your help.” you whine, tugging on his sleeve. He turns and looks at your dramatic pout, “Please.”

“Alright, I’ll bite.” He huffs. “What is it?”

“As a man, do you prefer texting or like a call? Or maybe FaceTime?”

Harry barks out a laugh at the ridiculous question, before looking over at you, and realizing your dead serious. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, tossing his head back against the couch. “I mean I’m more of a talker, and I like seeing who I’m talking to, so I prefer FaceTime. But I guess it depends on the girl and how long I’ve been talking to them. What our situation is, and stuff. Which one of your boy toys are we talking about?” he asks.

“Cameron.” you grimace.

Cameron is admittedly your least favorite of the boys on your roster, but your most tenured member. And the one Harry hates most. In the beginning you thought it could be something real. He was sweet and did a decent job at wooing you. That is until - in Harry’s eyes - he coerced you into a friends with benefits arrangement. Harry could tell that you liked him, and to see him treat you as terribly as he did, got Harry’s blood boiling. You deserved better, that much you both could understand. What Harry couldn't understand however was why you would even consider speaking to him again after the last time you were in contact.

Instead of saying what he truly thought, or giving you a hard time, he just pinched the space between his brow with an exasperated sigh.

“I know, I know,” you grumble.

“How long has it been since you’ve heard from him?”

“A while. But he reached out recently and - ”

“I thought you were done with him.” he deadpans, eyes glued to yours.

“I was, but we got coffee last week and he apologized.”

“Coffee?” Harry groans in disgust at the low effort. He pauses the movie, and turns to you, “Don’t text him. Don’t call him. Go back in there,” he says pointing down the hallway towards your room. “Make yourself come, and forget about him. For your sake and mine.”

“Harry!” you laugh, hitting him with a throw pillow.

“You think I’m joking, but I’m serious.” he concedes with a chuckle, “You don’t even like him.”

“I like him enough.”

“He’s a terrible fuck.”

“He…gets the job done.” you defend voice cracking.

“Everytime he leaves, there's suddenly a consistent buzz coming from your bedroom.” He scoffs. You go to defend yourself with heat rising to your face. You stammer a bit but not quite getting words out before he continues, “I’m a grown man, I know what a vibrator sounds like.” He smirks, and you giggle covering your face.

“Jesus.” you laugh, “Look, I’ve tried your way already…and it’s not doing the trick.” you pout, “So tell me, how pathetic would I be if I were to reach out to him.”

“I don’t think you’d be pathetic, love.” he soothes

“Then why are you so against me texting him?”

Because you deserve better! Why can’t you see that? He thinks, These guys don’t deserve you. If I were them I’d -

“Harry?” you ask, snapping him out of his thoughts. It’s in the glow of the television, and the small light on the side table that Harry is able to admire your adorable pout and curious eyes. He’s always had a little crush on you throughout the entirety of your friendship. One he knew you could feel and was reciprocated. There were a few drunken confessions of your attraction for one another that were joked about the following morning. Then there was the holiday kiss . One New Year for ‘good luck’. But there was also a promise. A pinky promise, to never risk the friendship you had. To keep things platonic. It was a promise that was becoming more and more difficult for both of you to keep.

When you two agreed to move in under the same roof for economic reasons, you knew it would be an adjustment, with both of you having been living on your own for years. But you were excited. Living alone could get lonely and overwhelming. So having your best friend of years, under the same roof and splitting responsibilities felt like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders.

But being in such close proximity meant that it was becoming harder to keep your promise. Especially when things just felt so domestic with the two of you. Cooking dinner together, movie nights, cuddling together on the couch. It was hard for both of you not to let your minds wander to a reality where you were more than just friends.

But you were friends, and as long as that boundary was there, there was nothing stopping either of you from being young, wild and free. So there were parties, and one night stands, and situationships. All in an attempt to distract you both from the truth. Because no matter how pretty the girls were that Harry brought home, no matter how sweet and kind they were. The only face he saw when they were splayed out in his bed…was your.

And after a very awkward Sunday morning breakfast with one of your one night stands meeting Harry, you stopped bringing guys home all together. Opting for spending weekends away. A change Harry didn’t like, and lectured you over. “It’s not safe. You don’t know these guys. At least if you bring them here, I’m here if you need me.” he’d argued. All that did was keep you from seeing anyone for a while. Which is how you ended up even considering talking to Camreon again.

“Look” Harry finally says, turning his body towards you, “if you’re that sexually frustrated I’ll… help you out.”

You tilt your head, letting out a nervous giggle, waiting for his real response. But it never comes, he just…smirks at you.

“Oh,” you whisper, heart beating against your ribs. “You’re serious.” Harry nods, biting his lip. The offer was…promising, and the way Harry looked at you was intriguing. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you butterflies. That the last month or so things haven’t felt different between you two, something less than romantic, but certainly more than platonic. It was messing with your head for sure. But you were friends. Regardless of how fit you thought he was, you didn’t have the right to blow up your over decade long friendship just because you were horny. You clear your throat blinking up at him, shaking your head,“Thanks for the offer, Har but -”

“Yeah no…you’re right. It’s - dumb idea.” He stammers, “I do think you just need to let off some steam, and then you’ll forget about him.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

He sees you deflate a bit at his words, and he realizes you didn’t expect him to give up so easily. So he tries again a little more directly “And not to be that guy but I’ve been told I’m pretty talented, and if making you come keeps you from making a repeated mistake then I’ll take one for the team.”

“Gee, thanks.” you scoff.

“I just mean. You’re my friend, and I’m trying to be a helping hand.” he says sweetly before the smirk returns, “And tongue.” He laughs, and you roll your eyes. “And on a serious note, you’re too special of a woman to have to deal with mediocre sex from a guy that clearly - and I’m sorry to say - couldn’t give two shits about your Love. If you need to…get your rocks off, why not with someone you trust? With someone that actually cares about you?” Harry says sweetly.

“Really?” you ask, and he nods, “And if we cross this line, it won't ruin our friendship.”

“Cross my heart.” He says drawing an ‘x’ over his chest.

“What about Taylor?” you ask, thinking of the pretty blonde that you’ve caught making breakfast in your kitchen a few times. You're trying to give him an out. But he doesn’t take it.

“Out of the picture.” he smiles, “Has been for a while.” He admits, and before you get a chance to offer your condolences, he asks “So what do you say?”

“Okay.”

“Alright.” he smirks, “Come here.” He says softly, reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You scoot closer to him on the couch, your knees touching his thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat as his other hand rests on your cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb.

He leans in slowly, his breath fanning across your face, his lips inches away from yours. His emerald eyes dart from yours down to your lips, back to your eyes.

“You’re sure?” he asks. You nod your head slowly, eyes glued to his lips as he speaks. You watch as they curve up into a seductive smirk, “Words, baby. Want to hear you say it.” He coaches.

He wants to hear you say it because the truth is, he can’t believe this is finally happening. He gets why you both agreed to not cross this boundary for so long. For the sake of your amazing friendship. But being this close to you now, seeing the look in your eye, the want and anticipation. Feeling the way he lit up touching you. It all seemed so silly. Why deny yourselves the pleasure of giving in to such chemistry, when life was so short?

“I’m sure.” you whisper, “Are you?”

“Oh, I’m positive.” he purrs, before leaning forward finally bringing his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on yours. Immediately, the kiss feels different than anything you’ve shared in the past. What starts off as a soft sweet pecks, familiarizes yourselves with one another, quickly evolves into a hurried frenzy. Tongues swirling, teeth clicking, and with Harry’s hand having come down to rest on your neck, thumb caressing your jugular possessively your head was spinning. You gasp into the kiss, trying to catch your breath but all you could do was breathe in more of Harry. It’s when he nipped at your bottom lip licking at the skin after, that you have a moment of clarity. Pulling away slowly you, run your hand through the hairs at the nape of his neck making him look up at you.

“You okay?” he asks, worry etched into his features.

“If we’re going to do this,” you begin, “ I have one condition.”

“Okay.” he prompts

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” you whisper, voice shakily.

“Planned on it, Love.” He smiles, bringing you back into the kiss, lifting you up onto his lap to straddle him. You drape your arms around his shoulders and lean forward bringing your lips back down to his. Any nerves you’d had earlier slip away with each swipe of his tongue into your mouth, and grind off your hips down onto his hardening cock. He moans into your mouth as you grind your hips into his, and you couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss.

He sounds so pretty, you thought.

He lets out another groan, as his hands roam up your thighs to your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you as close to him as he could. He pulls his lips away from yours in favor of kissing down your neck. His lips roam up and down trying to find your favorite spot, and when he does, you let out a lewd moan, pulling at his hair. He groans into your neck and continues sucking and nibbling. He licks a stirp up your neck, dragging your earlobe into his ear sucking at it. Before he pulls away looking at you with a proud grin on his face, watching you.

“Why’d you stop?” you pout, leaning your forehead against his.

“I’m not fucking you on the couch.” He chuckles and you giggle. “Your bedroom or mine?” he asks as he untucks your lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Wherever you’d feel most comfortable.”

You didn’t have to think for more than a moment before answering. “Is it okay if we go to yours?” you ask nervously. If you were going to get the Harry Styles special, you wanted the whole experience.

“Of course.” he smiles, giving you a quick peck, “Hold onto me.” he instructs and you hook your arms and legs around him as he stands up and makes his way down the short hallway to his bedroom. He leans in and kisses your cheek

It is a little strange, how natural it all feels. How your lips seemed to slot perfectly with his, how he grabs your ass so dominantly in his hands, how you instinctually nuzzle into his neck, sucking just below his ear like he did for you. It’s as if this whole thing, your dynamic, was sitting there all along, just waiting to come to the surface.

He kicks his bedroom door open, kicking it back closed once inside. Breathy swears falling from his lips as you suck on a spot just below his ear. He sets you down on your feet as you pull away from his neck, bringing your lips back to his. Your hands move from around his shoulders to the elastic of his sweats. You pull at the strings keeping the material around his hips. But Harry stops you, pulling away from the kiss, holding your wrists in his hands.

“Hey, hey.” he coos, tilting your head up to look at him. “This is about you. Remember?”

“Right.” you sigh, “Sorry.” It was a force of habit. Focusing on pleasing your partner, without much thought of your own pleasure.

“It’s okay.” he smiles softly, “Don’t worry about me. Just let me take care of you.” He lifts your hands to his lips kissing each of the back of your hands, “Okay?” you nod and he places a quick peck to your lips, “Get up on the bed, for me.” There was something in his voice, a tone you’ve never heard before nor could you pin down, but it already had your stomach doing somersaults.

You crawl your way up the bed, laying down amongst the mountain of pillows and it suddenly hits you what you’ve agreed to. Did you have some nerves about the possibility of ruining your longtime friendship? Of course. But the primary feeling was anticipation. You’ve heard Harry take many women to heaven in this very room, in this very bed through the thin walls of your apartment, dozens of times. And now as you lay in his sheets… It's your turn.

He watches from the foot of the bed as you settle into his bed, admiring the sight of you there. You're quick to remove your shirt, but you keep your bottoms and bra on. You watch as he strips himself of his band t-shirt, and sweats admiring his tattooed littered chest and arms. Your eyes follow the trail of hair from his navel to the growing tent in his boxer briefs. He notices you admiring, watching as his muscles contract as he moves up the bed to you, a smirk plastered to his lip.

“Eyes up here.” he jokes, and you snort out a chuckle, as he hovers above you with elbows on either side of your head. You bring your arms, sound his shoulders, pulling him down on you, enjoying the weight of him on top of you.

“Shut up.” you smile, kissing him. You try to lead the kiss, but eventually give in to Harry, allowing him to choose the pace, too distracted and consumed by the feelings of his hands roaming your body. As he teases your mouth open with his tongue, you nibble at his bottom lip wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. You both moan as the tip of his clothed cock catches onto your clothed pussy. Your pussy throbs at the sensation and you roll your hips up into his, begging for some friction. But Harry holds your hip in the softness of his mattress. He pulls away, caressing your cheek, running a thumb along your kiss bitten lips.

“Let me take my time. Want you to enjoy this. I’m going to give you what you need. I promise.”

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, “Okay.” you sigh

“Just relax.” he leans down, kissing your lips, “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah - of course.”

“Good.” Harry smiles, his dimpled smile, before continuing your kiss, hungrily kissing your lips, down to your neck. Kissing and sucking trying to find your most sensitive spot. When he does, he nibbles and sucks, groaning into you as he feels you relax in his arms, with each swipe of his tongue on your neck. His hand reaches behind you, fiddling with the hooks of your bra. “Can I take this off?” he rasps.

“Mhmm, yeah.” you rush out, helping him shimmy your arms out of the annoying barrier. Before you get the chance to pull him back down to you chest to chest, Harry pauses, looking from your chest to your eyes.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous” he whispers, a hand cupping one of your breasts, pinching the pebbled skin of your nipple. He dips his head down, drawing the other nipple into his mouth sucking on the nub, before releasing it with a pop. You couldn’t help the lewd moan that escaped your lips. It’s needy and breathy and if it were anyone else above you, you’d maybe be embarrassed with just how desperate you sound. But the way Harry is worshiping you, and moaning into your chest, you knew he was enjoying this just as much.

He works his way up from your breasts back to your neck, sucking and kissing anywhere his lips could reach. You wrap your hands around his shoulders pulling him in, for a deep kiss, until you feel his fingers tangle into the loose strings of your flimsy lounge shorts.

“What about these?” he asks against your lips. “Can I take ‘em off?”

“Please.” you gasp into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss the best you could, you lift your hips, as you help him get the shorts down your legs.

With nothing but the thin material of your underwear between you. You could really get a feel of Harry now as he grinded his hips into yours. He was thick, and just as hard as you were wet. After a few nudges of his cock against your pussy, Harry snakes a hand between the two of you, rubbing you through the thin cotton of your panties in small circles.

“Mmhm.” you moan, rolling your hips into his hand.

“This okay?” he huffs, leaning his forehead on yours.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling him back down to your face for a kiss. “More.”

Harry smirked at you teasingly, but obliged. Sliding your panties to the side, his thick warm fingers making contact with your clit.

“Oh, fuck.” you huff.

Harry usually likes to tease. He tells the girls in his bed to be patient, to be good girls and wait for the inevitable earth shattering pleasure he’s sure to spring on them. But you're not just some girl in his bed. You’re…you. And he’s never not given you whatever it is you wanted. Because as far as Harry is concerned, you deserve the world. And the truth is, even if you didn’t realize it, you have him wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.

“That feel okay?” Harry asks, rubbing you in tight circles. He dips his fingers further down your folds, collecting the wetness at your entrance to wet your clit. He rubs at your pussy, up and down, until you start bucking against his hand.

“Mmhm” you nod, “so good.” you whimper.

It’s beginning to become harder to focus. All you feel is Harry. His fingers, between your legs. His tongue massages yours. His breath fanning across your face, when he rests his forehead on yours. His hardening cock pressing into your thigh. His weight on top of you. He was completely consuming your senses.

His fingers dip down, teasing at your entrance drawing out a deep groan from you as your grip on his shoulders tighten.

“What’s got you so wet? Huh?” he smirks into the kiss, as he teases your entrance. Your cheeks warm to his teasing tone.

“You.” you whine, “Feels so good, Harry.”

“Yeah?” he smirks, “And this?” He coos, as he slowly, finally, slides a long finger inside. “This feel good, too?”

“Oh, god.” you whimper, arching your back into the mattress, gripping at his shoulders.

Harry kisses your check, pulling back admiring how sweet you looked as his finger worked you open, pumping in and out of you.

“Look at me.” he coos, curling his finger inside to that spongy spot inside of you. “Let me see you baby. Look at me.” He repeats, sweetly kissing your cheek. Slowly, and with all the focus you can muster, you peel your eyes open to look at Harry. “Good girl,” Harry praises, “you’re doing so good, Love.” Your breath hitches at his words as you feel your pussy tighten around his fingers. “You gonna come on my hand? Already?” He smirks.

His light teasing, mixed with the pet names, only has you barling closer to the edge. You're so, very close and the way you're looking up at Harry all blissed out has him ready to bust in his boxers.

“Har-”

He can sense the frustration. See how close you were, but not quite. He needed to see you come for him.

“What is it baby?” he coos, kissing your cheek.

“More. Harry,” you whine, “Please, please plea-” you whine, through a pout.

“Shhh….Okay. You can have,” Harry slowly inserts a second finger, while his thumb circled your clit, “anything you want.”

“Fuc-” Your moan gets cut off with a kiss, as Harry continues to work his fingers in and out of you.

“There you go. Better?”

“Ye- yes. Oh my god.” you whine.

Harry continues working his fingers in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit as you could feel your orgasm barrelling closer.

“Come on,” Harry encourages, “come on my hand. Come for me.” he pants, through a kiss, fingers curling, maintaining their pace inside of you.

“Shit!” you moan out, coming apart on his hand.

“There you go. Good girl.” he praises, kissing you anywhere his lips can reach. You whimper, a shiver shooting through your body as your orgasm shook through you. “Shhh, I got you. I got you.” he coos, slowing his fingers to a stop. He withdraws his fingers from your center, eyes remaining on yours as he sucked his fingers clean, moaning around the digits.

“You taste good.” he smirks, before leaning down, burying himself in your neck, sucking on the spot just below your ear. He pulls away, looking you in the eye admiring your fucked out state. He plants a kiss on each of your cheeks, and then kisses you deeply nipping at your lip.

“You did so good.” Harry huffs into your mouth. You rake your fingers through his hair, still reeling from your orgasm, trying to use Harry to bring yourself back down to earth. “You’re pretty when you come.” he smiles down at you, kissing your lips, “Do you need a minute?”

“No.” you mumble kissing his lips, “Just fuck me please.” Harry nods into the kiss, reaching into his nightstand for a condom. He’s quick to get rid of his bottoms and slip on the condom.

“Harry.” you plead, rolling your hips up into his, as he slid his cock up and down your slit. He taps the head of his cock on your clit twice.

“Shhh, relax. I got you.” He coos stroking your cheek with one hand as he runs his cock more deliberately up and down your slit with the other. Harry kisses the corners of your mouth, and then places a kiss to your lips. He looks at you, eyes aflame with lust. He leans his forehead against yours, his breath fanning across your face, as he slowly pushes inside. You gasp, grab his shoulders, dig your nails into his skin. Harry hisses, tucking his face into your neck as he slowly worked you open with his cock, little by little thrusting in and out until he was fully settled inside.

“Fuck, babe.” he sighs. He stays still for a moment, deep inside of you relishing in the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him.

“Oh my god.” you gasp as swears fall from Harry’s lips above you. You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling lightly at his curls, drawing out more groans from him. “Move.” you whine, rutting your hips up into his. “Please, Harry.”

He slowly begins to grind his hips down into yours, pulling back only slightly before driving back in, allowing you to feel every inch of him. “Fuck, you feel so good baby.” He praises. He’s quick to find a decent pace, his arms bracketing your head, forehead leaned against yours as he pounded into you with deep strokes.

“Har- oh my god.” you moan, your pants of pleasure, fanning across Harry’s face, eyes screwed shut.

“Look at me.” he rasps, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Please. Need to see you.” He moans. And he does. He needs it. You can hear it in his voice, and feel it in the way he caresses your hip. He must be closer to you. He needed to see you, all of you.

So you grant his wish, peeling your eyes open and looking at him. And your pussy clenches at the sight of him. You don’t remember why you’d close your eyes in the first place. He was beautiful, like this. All kiss bitten lips, and flushed cheeks, curls glued to his brow and lust filled eyes. You threaded your fingers in his curls, brushing his curls away from his eyes.

“You feel so good.” you gasp.

Harry smirks, twirling his hips, “So do you.” You pull at his curls, a loud moan rips from your throat, as a particularly hard thrusts hits your g-spot. Harry’s eyes flash with a new kind of focus, and lust as he hits it again.

“‘S that it? ‘S that your spot, babe?” he huffs. You nod frantically, eyes glued to his lust filled ones as he continued pumping into you. “I want you to come for me again. I want to feel you. Please,” he pleads, “Need it.”

“Oh god!” you cry out. The more he talked the closer you could feel yourself approaching your peak. “Harry -” you

“Breathe through it, Love.” He instructs, keeping his rhythmic pace. As he grinds his hips down into yours, he demonstrates a breath, taking a deep breath in and out. You follow suit, feeling the heat pool in the bit of your stomach warm, as your orgasm grows closer and closer.

“Harry - oh my god.” “I know, I know.” He gasps, “Let go, Baby.” And you do. Just like that, you coming around Harry’s cock, tightening around him as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “There you go,” he coos, dropping a kiss to your forehead, before tucking himself back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “Good girl. Fuck baby.”

Harry’s thrusts become sloppy as he struggles to hold himself up above you, feeling his own climax quickly approaching. “I’m gonna come baby.” Harry pants.

“Please.” you whimper, holding his face in his hands. You bring your lips up to his, moaning into the kiss, “I want you to.”

“Fuck.” He huffs, and with a few more deep strokes, Harry comes apart above you.

He grinds his hips to a stop, burying himself into your neck, kissing your shoulder, as you run your nails up and down his back, trying to catch your breath.

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the weight of him on top of you, and Harry enjoying your hand in his hair. Once he heard your breath slow, he slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead, and rolling off of you.

“I’ll be right back.” he smiles.

“Okay.” you whisper with a sweet smile.

Harry drags his boxer briefs up his legs, looking back at you with a smile before he’s out the door.

“Shit.” you giggle, looking up at the ceiling. You look over at the clock on his nightstand, and smirk. Nearly an hour and a half has passed. I really got the Harry Experience ™ you muse, to yourself.

Sitting up in bed, you scan the messy bedroom floor to find your clothes. Before you get a chase to put your bra back on, Harry is back with bottles of water, some snacks and a towel.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, He sets down the two bottles of water, snacks on his nightstand.

“Getting dressed.”

“What for?” he pouts, crawling into his bed, lifting his sheets for you to follow, “Come back here.” you allow him to pull you back into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“I don’t want to overextend my stay.” you whisper

“You’re not. Let me hold you for a bit. Not done taking care of you.”

He kisses the crown of your head, and it feels almost too intimate, but still you relax in his arms, letting out a deep breath, allowing the gentle motion of his hand stroking your back to calm you.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah.”

“Promise me that we’ll still be friends.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. A little too long for your liking before he finally speaks.

“I don’t think I can do that.” Harry says, and there's a slight panic at his words until you look up at him and see he’s smirking down at you.

“I got you pussy whipped that quick, Styles?” you joke, poking at his side, and he laughs.

“Maybe.” he smirks, before looking at you earnestly, “Or maybe hearing you moan my name made me realize it’s something I've wanted for a long time.”

“Oh.” you sigh.

“Or maybe I’m just selfish, and I don’t like the idea of anyone else seeing you that way. Especially if they aren’t going to treat you right.”

“And you want to treat me right?” you smile

“I do.” He says firmly, “Give me a chance. Just one date. A real one. Ideally one where we stay clothed, and vertical.” he smirks. “And if you don’t want to pursue anything, then…I’m happy to stay friends. But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t try.”

You look at him, trying to find a hint of dishonesty, but you couldn’t find it.

“Okay, Styles. One date.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you smile, snuggling back into his chest.

Everything between you two has changed. That’s for sure. But maybe it’s for the better. And maybe this is just the beginning.

a/n: imagine harry as your fwb *deep sigh*

✨masterlist✨| ✨yap & request box✨

2K notes · View notes

mommynott · 3 months ago

Note

i need need NEED showersex w theo scene pweaseeeeeeeeee

i luv ur writing btw actually in luv

Shower sex with Theo is a literal NEEEEEED so I get it

You’re so sweet thank you sm anon 💋💋💋

Okaaaaay let’s get into some steamy shower fun with Theo 👀

Showering in Cum

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Just some steamy shower fun between friends with benefits

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, college au, fwb!theo, dom!theo, shower sex, rough sex, spanking, degrading, dirty talk, facial, PIV, dom&sub

—Plap plap plap- Your soapy breasts were pressed up against the glass shower door, Theo holding your wrists behind your back as he thrusted into you with great force. Warm water trickles down your marked-up body. This was already round two for the night. “Can’t get enough of me, can you, Tesoro?”

Groaning roughly through his words, his eyes were glued down to your wet ass that jiggled against him. His free hand had a good grip on your hips while he fucked you. —Smack! Theodore’s heavy hand falls onto your ass cheek, the steamy water making it sting even more, but fuck you lived for pain and pleasure. “When I ask you a question… you answer me, slut—“ The assertiveness was prominent in Theo’s tone but fuck. You were a babbling mess of bliss.

“S-sorry, daddy— Fuck! It feels so good!-Mmm” You stumbled over your own words, resting your cheek against the glass as you felt Theo ram inside of your leaking cunt even harder than before. His cock twitching at the pet name you gave him. But this wasn’t new for you guys. Not at all. Friends with benefits has been going on for months now… and lately? You two haven’t been able to keep your hands off of one another.

Theo took his hand that was digging into the flesh of your hip and reached over to grab one of your tits, giving it a firm squeeze. But only for a split second before he swiftly grabbed the shower head, bringing it between your legs “Feels good, huh?— Show me how fuckin, good it feels, Bella.” The sensation of the jetting water on your clit was making your knees weak. “T-Theo…Gods—I…please don’t stop! Fuck— that feels so fucking good!”

Seeing your reaction, Theo smirked, his grip tightened around your two wrists behind your back just as he started pounding his cock deeper and faster. Feeling your rapid pulse from your veins. Surely they’d be bruised tomorrow. “Who fucks you this good, hm? Who Tesoro? Say my fuckin’ name….No one compares to how I fuck you huh?” He was taunting you but, hell, it was true. No one fucked you like Theodore Nott did.

“You—fuck! T-Theo- Theo- Theo!” A euphoric scream guttered from your lungs, your juices squirting out so heavily that it shoved his cock right out of your clenched walls. Theodore quickly spun you around, his strong hand wrapping around your throat while he lowered you to your knees. “I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face.” He growled, pumping his cock right over you as you stuck your tongue out, surely a sight to see for the Italian.

Taking your hands, you pressed your tits together, showing off all of your sex appeal for him. “Cazzo— You’re so fuckin’ hot-“ Theo groaned loudly, stroking his length that was covered in your sweet wetness even faster before his sticky white cum spilled all over your face and tongue. A little bit of it falling onto your breasts. Theo took his pointer finger, scooping up some of his seed, and held it to your swollen lips. “Open.”

Through his heavy breathes, you parted your mouth open, sucking his cum right off of his finger. Theo’s gaze darkening down into yours. “Such a good fucking girl.” He mumbled before lifting you to your feet. Immediately taking some water in his palms and carefully cleaning up your face. Grabbing the soap and slowly massaging it down your tired body. Softly smacking random little kisses down your neck from time to time. Wanting to take care of you after all of the intense, rough sex the two of you had today.

Okay but this was SO fun to write I’m thinking of doing a full shower sex fic now lmaooo

Hope you beauties liked this one! Love you bunches and as always, requests and asks are open💋

Divider linked in my masterlist🌙

2K notes · View notes

unfinishedslurs · 2 years ago

Text

“You know, I used to have a crush on you,” Steve says. Eddie has got to stop walking in on their conversations. Nancy has picked up on his bad mood, and Eddie can’t tell her it’s because her two ex-boyfriends are fucking.

Jonathan snorts. “Really?” he asks. He sounds like he might be high.

“Oh yeah,” Steve drawls. He’s definitely high. “I was, like, seventeen, and you held my hand and saved my life. Ruined me forever, dude.”

Forever. He wonders what a forever would look like for Steve and Jonathan. Steve’s six kids in a winnebago sounds so out of reach, but he’s sure they’d find a way. Jonathan seems like the kind of guy who’d be good at taking care of kids.

Eddie’s not. Eddie can’t even look at a child anymore without their mother pulling them away, which fucking sucks. He likes kids.

“Wait, when did I hold your hand?”

“When we were fighting the demogorgon! You don’t remember?”

“We were fighting a monster and you were having a gay crisis?” Jonathan cackles. “Seriously?”

“Hey, I didn’t know it was a gay crisis,” he defends. Eddie can practically see the red on his cheeks. “I thought it was like, a warriors bond or some shit. Brothers in arms. You made me feel the same way Tommy did, I thought we were best friends!”

“You had a crush on Tommy?”

“Jonathan, my guy. I was deep in the closet and we used to practice kiss. Of course I had a crush on him.”

“You used to what?”

“Practice kiss,” Steve repeats, “like, for girls. So we’d be good at it.”

Jonathan’s answering silence speaks volumes.

“Wait,” he says.

Jonathan makes a noise like he’s dying.

“Wait.”

“Steve,” Jonathan wheezes, “did you tell Tommy-”

“No!” Steve shouts. “No, man, he told me.”

They both erupt into the unbridled laughter of men who are blitzed out of their minds.

“Wait, I need to know,” Jonathan giggles. “Fuck, marry, kill. Me, Eddie, Tommy.”

Oh no. Oh no? God, please no. This is hell. He’s died and God is punishing his sodomy through increasingly mind breaking torture methods.

“Dude,” Steve says, “That’s not fair. I already married Tommy when I was like, five.”

“You what?”

“Yeah, we got, like, fuckin’ playground married and shit. Carol officiated. He gave me daisies.”

“Daisies,”Jonathan repeats, flabbergasted.

“Yeah! And then I learned what a faggot was,” Steve announces proudly.

Jonathan stops laughing.

“Oh,” he says slowly. God, they’ve got to be so incredibly high. Eddie wishes he could join them. “Right. That’s bad.”

“That’s bad,” Jonathan agrees. “But also this is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Why didn’t you tell me baby you was so cute? What happened?”

“Shut your damn mouth, Byers. I left my husband for you.”

“You left your husband for me,” he says, smug. “Wait, does that make me the other woman?”

“Jonathan,” Steve says, “you’ve always been the other woman.”

They collapse into more peels of laughter, and Eddie can’t take it anymore. He needs to move out.

As he leaves, Steve says, “Dude, you're other-womaning right now.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jonathan says, “cuza your crush on-”

Eddie speeds up, and whatever Jonathan was going to say is lost to the ringing in his ears.

stonathan fwb (steddie)

this one is inspired by this fic by fivecenturiesverse

“Nancy and I broke up.”

“Shit,” Steve says, somehow managing to sound surprised. As if he and Nancy weren’t teetering on the verge of something throughout spring break. “That sucks, man.”

“It…was a long time coming, I think,” Jonathan admits. There’s a soft thump, like Steve clapping Jonathan’s shoulder in solidarity.

They don’t say anything else, and Eddie almost leaves to go eavesdrop somewhere else when Jonathan speaks.

“Are you…going to do anything about that?”

“About what?” Steve asks, genuine confusion in his voice.

“Nancy.”

“Oh.” Steve doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Eddie braces himself to hear the truth. That he’s going to ask her out, ask to get married, ask her to have his six little nuggets and travel across the country together. “No.”

Eddie’s brain record scratches.

“Really?” Jonathan sounds rightfully skeptical.

“Yeah, I don’t…” he lets out a nervous laugh, and Eddie can picture him raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head. “There’s…someone else, and I can’t…she’s amazing. Nancy, I mean. She’s, like, this huge person in my mind, you know? I wanted to love her so much, and I convinced myself she loved me back because it was easier than admitting I was clinging onto something that wasn’t meant to be. I kind of put my whole future on her. Figured if I could love any girl, it’d be the perfect one right in front of me.” He laughs again, hollow. “She was right, to call it bullshit. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“If it helps, I think she really did love you,” Jonathan says, sounding fake as all hell.

Steve brushes him off. “No you don’t. It’s okay, it was never really real. Not like you guys. That…that really sucks, man.”

“It’s for the best, I think.” There’s a long pause. “You said…if you could love a girl, it would be Nancy.”

“…I did say that,” Steve says warily. Eddie has a feeling he really, really shouldn’t be listening to this, but he can’t bring himself to back away.

“Do you…are you…”

“If you’re going to be an asshole, I should tell you that I’ve been working out a lot since ‘83,” Steve interrupts.

“I noticed,” Jonathan mutters.

What.

“What?”

“I…nothing,” Steve sighs.

There’s another, longer pause, filled with tension that Jonathan decides to take an emotional jackhammer to. “Do you want to fuck me?”

What the fuck.

Oh, God, he’s going to have to save Jonathan Byers from his tragically straight crush. From their mutual tragically straight crush? …their mutual tragically straight crush, who admitted to not liking girls?

Something’s not adding up.

“What the fuck, Byers?” Steve sounds angry, and Eddie prepares to jump in. “What, you think just because I’m queer I automatically want to sleep with you?”

What.

“No!” Jonathan yelps. “No, that’s not it, it’s just…we’re both queer, and stuck here for the foreseeable future, and I’ve never been with a guy but I trust you.”

There’s a stunned silence.

“You’re queer.”

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, probably dying of mortification.

“You trust me?”

“Steve,” Jonathan says gently, and Eddie nearly bites through his tongue. “Of course I do.”

“You and Nancy just broke up,” Steve says, wavering. “And I can’t…there’s someone else. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You can say no. I just figured I’d ask.”

“Fuck,” Steve mutters. “You realize I’m just as in the dark here as you are, right? I’ve never been with a guy either.”

“We can find out together,” Jonathan says. “Only if you want to, though.”

A heavy silence, where Eddie has to bite his tongue to keep his cool.

“Fuck it. Why the hell not?”

Then Eddie has to leave for the sake of his own sanity. Not before he hears the wet smack of a kiss, though.

Eddie might be going insane.

It’s like everywhere he looks he sees signs of Steve and Jonathan’s… development. Steve leans forward to grab something and his eyes catch on a hickey under his collar. Jonathan sits a little too gingerly one day, and Eddie’s immediately caught up in a fiery inferno of jealousy that he’s not the one sore from whatever Steve did last night. He has to leave the room.

It gets even worse when Steve comes by DND wearing a shirt that is clearly Jonathan’s.

“What are you wearing?” Dustin demands before he can. It’s probably a good thing he did, Eddie might have just started biting him to stake a claim. Which is a useless thought, because Steve isn’t his to claim at all. Steve is Jonathan’s. And stake a claim he did.

He kind of wishes he could hate Jonathan, but he can’t. The guy’s just so sweet with his brother, and it’s obvious in the way he takes care of people that he’s a good guy. The kind of guy who deserves someone like Steve. Someone would have to be a crazy, fucked-up, jealous asshole to hate him.

Eddie is all of those things. He’s also great at lying to himself. If he doesn’t admit he hates Jonathan Byers, fellow freak, for sleeping with the most unfortunately spectacular jock imaginable, he never has to confront his own failure to keep to his code. The doctrine that Steve cheerfully set on fire and then stomped the ashes into dust. All without knowing it, the asshole.

He really can’t blame Jonathan. Eddie’s well aware that he’s made up some weird, one-sided rivalry in his head over Steve’s affections. It’s not his fault that one of them got the guy, and the other got to scream into his pillow at 2am.

Sure, they both said they were hung up on other people, but how long would that really last? He’s fairly sure Steve was lying about having feelings for someone. Eddie can’t help but watch him, and he’s never once seen a sign Steve was interested in any of the other men he hung out with.

Steve colors. “It’s Jonathan’s,” he says, picking at the band tee like he’s self-conscious about it. Which is ridiculous. He obviously knows he looks good in anything. “I…uh…spilled something on mine.”

From the way he talks, Eddie has a pretty good idea what exactly got on his shirt. He takes deep breaths, and tries not to chew through the table. He wishes Steve were in his band shirt instead. He’d look great in Judas Priest merch.

He tries not to picture him in a Corroded Coffin shirt. He fails.

#stonathan fwb au #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #jonathan byers #stranger things fanfic #rip post s1 steve who thought he thought of jonathan #aka a man who barely talked to him and then slept with his maybe-maybe-not-at-the-time gf #as his best friend #gay steve harrington #that one person who said eddie is hurting his own feelings by eavesdropping so true #king you could just stop being nosy #jealousy #apparently eddie lives with steve in this au now. interesting choice me #yes jonathan made a fmk of the guys steve has had a crush on. no eddie doesn't figure this out #he's very upset at (supposedly) being killed in fmk #sorry to all the people who asked me to tag them. idk how to do that #also i wasn't actually planning to write more of this but it came to me in a dream #daisies are still steve's favorite flower btw

2K notes · View notes

hiraethwrote · 6 months ago

Text

I'LL MAKE YOU MISS ME

♬ ₊˚. insp: i'll make you miss me - artemas

✧ pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader ✧ summary: if asked, both of you would probably just describe your relatioship as purely physical, seeing as he sleeps with anything that moves. but after one of your drunken nights together, things get heated and there might be something more hidden under the surface of your relation ✧ cw: [MDNI] non-curse au, college au, modern!sukuna, angst, arguing, situationship?, fwb kinda deal, cursing, suggestive content, talk and descriptions of sex, partying and drinking, toxic behavior, name calling, gaslighing, heavy denial, mention of weed, satoru cameo, slut shaming, reader is smaller than sukuna, one tiny 'go die' joke, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 11.4k (hehe)

It was always just supposed to be a fling. A string of meaningless hookups at best. He was after all, known around campus as the guy who went from one girl to the next only to get his dick wet.

All the teasing you’d endured, endless STD jokes from your friends and taunting about how you were just another one of his conquests. You’d only laughed it all off and told them “but that dick is worth it though,” with a playful glint in your eyes.

It was only meant to be fun. So why were you now standing in front of him with tear stained cheeks, chest rising and sinking as you tried to calm your breathing at nearly four a.m. in the morning?

Feeling so exposed wearing nothing but one of your oversized t-shirts and panties that you’d rushed to put on once the atmosphere had turned hostile, arms hugging tightly around yourself while he stared at you with an angry scowl, not mirroring an ounce of the hurt you were feeling.

You regretted ever opening your mouth to ask such an innocent question that had weighed down on your mind for the past two months; “so what’s the deal?”

Whatever it was that was going on between the two of you, it had all slowly shifted into a strange and alien territory. Like so many nights before, you and Sukuna had left yet another house party to head back to your dorm where he fucked you silly — like he always did. But that time he didn’t get dressed and leave the second it was over. No, he fell asleep… beside you… in your bed… one hand draped over your stomach. After that, he stayed the night after almost every sinful night spent together, though he was always gone by the time you woke up.

Though you thought it somewhat strange, that in itself wasn’t enough for you to wonder where it was you stood with him. It wasn’t until he stood outside your door on a random Wednesday, a bag of popcorn in one hand and a bottle of soda in the other, that it hit you just how absurd this whole thing had turned. He was so pissed off when he showed up for the surprise visit, something clearly bothering him, but god forbid he told you — you suspected something so mundane as a bad grade on his last exam or something.

Without much explanation, he just made his way into your dorm and got comfortable on your bed, where you eventually ended up just watching a movie with the bowl of snacks between you. And once the end credits started rolling, there was a noticeable lightness in him. He indulged in some small (and unusual) chatter before he said his goodbyes and left. He didn’t even stay for a quick fuck.

After that you started to notice that some of his stuff was scattered about your private space. One of his hoodies, a textbook he had barely cracked open, his phone charger permanently plugged in by your bed.

But it was the casual conversations that took place after sex that really had your gears churning about what the hell was actually going on. Secret words shared at the dead of night, introducing you to a side of Sukuna you had no idea even existed, though neither of you ever brought up said conversations the next time you saw each other.

This wasn’t what you expected from someone who was notorious for not maintaining any relationship with a girl besides getting in their pants — leading you to eventually be unable to hold your tongue.

And his entire body instantly froze up beside you when the question quietly slipped past your lips. Jumping out of the bed, he fell back to the tough exterior as he hurriedly put his clothes back on, all while he bombarded you with cruel comments, causing the tears to well up in your eyes momentarily.

“Save the tears, okay? It’s fucking pathetic,” he groaned as he pulled the jacket over his shoulders.

Just as the next sob was about to escape, you stopped yourself, feeling so humiliated. “I just wanted to know what’s going on-“

“Nothing,” he interrupted with a raised voice, causing you to flinch. “It’s just sex. God, you girls always get so clingy.”

“So you don’t think it’s weird for you to leave your stuff here?” You said carefully.

“God forbid a guy leaves a fucking charger without it meaning anything,” he took an intimidating step closer, and though you didn’t shrink in his presence, you became aware of the natural size difference between the two of you, especially when he presented himself so dominant. “It’s here cause it’s convenient, seeing as how willing you are to spread your legs at the tiniest drop of attention.”

So much for stifling your tears, when he brought them back so quickly with meaner words than he had ever thrown your way before.

His head fell backwards with a loud groan. “More god damn tears,” you barely heard him whisper.

And to think you’d covered for him. He had never asked you to, but every time your friends had come over to study in your dorm, you had instinctively hid any signs that he’d ever been there at all, because you just had a feeling he wanted whatever was happening between you to be a secret.

What was worse, was how it was never you who initiated any of your evenings together. It was always Sukuna who approached you at parties when he’d had enough drinking for one night, throwing a possessive arm over your shoulders. It was always him who sent you oh-so-chivalrous texts in the middle of the night, asking if you were up.

Every previous encounter soared through your mind, added on top of his merciless words, and something in you snapped.

“Fine!” You spat, followed by a loud sob. The sudden shift in your entire body didn’t go unnoticed by him, as you spotted the slight quirk in his eyebrow once you raised your voice. “Then get the fuck out.”

“What?” He asked in confusion, more of a hypothetical question in sheer shock.

“You heard me,” you said as you grabbed his hoodie from the floor, taking him by surprise when you threw it in his direction. “And take your clothes. And your charger, and your fucking books,” it escalated, hurling his textbook for his head. He barely flinched as you missed his face by an inch, crashing into the door with a bang. You grabbed one of the many packets of cigarettes he’d left throughout his time here. “And these.” The packet opened once it collided with his chest, scattering the cigarettes all over the floor. “Smoke them all up and I might not have to see your face again!”

A shallow scoff left him as he flashed you a taunting smirk which stung more than it should have. “You’re absolutely insane.” Just mere minutes ago he’d traced secret streaks along your bare skin, so gentle one could never have believed it was him the touch belonged to. He’d would definitely not admit to that now.

You stomped over to him, placing two firm hands on his chest and started to shove him towards the door. “Get out, Sukuna!” Your shove did little to make his feet move, but luckily he had willingly started to step back. “Get out!” You shouted again. “Get out. Get the fuck out!”

His hand twisted open the door knob, and he opened his mouth one last time. “Crazy slut,” he managed to say under his breath before he just slipped out the door.

You took one step out after him, still more on your heart. “And that moment when you find yourself missing me, bet your ass I’m not answering,” you shouted after him down the hall, only for him to flip you the finger over his shoulder before he turned the corner. All the feelings still consuming you, you slammed the door shut with all the force left in your body, not caring about the noise complaints you knew you would be receiving tomorrow.

Suddenly, your dorm felt a lot bigger, abandoned almost. The silence that filled the air was nothing but uncomfortable. And you knew it wasn’t over.

You could avoid Sukuna as much as you wanted, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop all the shit talk he would spread around campus. Soon enough you’d probably be known as the loosest bitch in a ten miles radius.

And still, what bothered you the most was just how hurt you were. Not a single atom in your body wanted to admit it, but a small part of you wanted him to just come back into the dorm and fill the void he had created by his gut wrenching departure.

“You can ask him, seeing as he’s your boyfriend,” your friend snickered, bringing you back to the conversation you had zoned out of long ago.

“Huh?”

“Sukuna,” your other friend said as they shared a slightly worrying look.

The grunt of disgust that expelled out of you had them raise their eyebrows in surprise. “What about him?”

“He is our most reliable source for weed. Thought you could get him to bring a stash to the party this weekend.” The frown pinching your eyebrows had been chronic the entire conversation.

“Not fucking happening.”

Uncomfortable silence fell over the three of you. It didn’t take a genius to see something had gone down between you and Sukuna, because you had never showed any signs of pure hatred towards the guy whenever he was playfully mentioned around you — but now you were acting as if he was just as insignificant as the dirt on your shoe. Neither of them had the guts to ask either, especially as the tension in your body grew tighter when all of you spotted him walk into the library with one of his friends.

As quickly as you’d spotted him, you shifted your head back to your computer, doing your very best to ignore him.

You hated the effect he had on you, having humiliated and insulted you beyond belief, and yet you were the one fighting to keep your eyes off of him. He probably wasn’t even aware that you were sitting anywhere near him at all.

Why did he have this power over you? What was it about him that had you pulled in so badly? There had been nothing of value in your relation that was worth clinging onto, had there?

No, there couldn’t be. You could go out tonight and find someone just as hot and just as cruel as him to rock your world for one night if you wanted to. So why were you still hung up on a certain pink haired idiot who had a different type of hate in is eyes? A guy who didn’t even care that you were secretly miserable after the fallout.

Or so you thought.

Sukuna didn’t understand it, but he had himself instantly searching for your familiar figure whenever he entered a room. Of course he was aware that you were sitting in the library as well, eyes shifting between your laptop screen, your textbook and your notes. He tried, to the best of his ability, to not glance in your direction, not wanting to give his friend anything to hassle him about.

What also surprised him, was how much he wished he’d catch you staring in his direction. But he was only left disappointed, an unfamiliar sting filling his body when you never spared him a single sliver of attention.

“So you’re going this weekend, right?”

“Hmm?” Sukuna asked, managing to snap his eyes to his friend before he noticed him staring in your direction. “Yeah, of course. You know me,” his cocky tone quickly finding its way back to his voice, accompanied by a smirk to match.

He kept his smirk plastered on display, even when his friend squinted slightly at him. “You alright there?” The faintest, reactive twitch occurred under Sukuna’s left eye at the friendly concern, but he thought he’d been lucky enough that his friend didn’t notice.

God, he hated you, he thought.

Never had his friends ever asked him if he was doing alright, simply because he never gave them a reason to. Sukuna wasn’t the type to confront his feelings, let alone talk to anyone about anything. So if something was bothering him, he always put on a carefree face, like nothing in the world could ever faze him.

And then you came along, with your sharp tongue and crude lips that served him exactly the things he deserved to hear, never holding back.

You had been like a breath of fresh air, catching him completely by surprise. Yeah, at first he had approached you solely for sex, having caught his eye across the room at some drunken house party some time back, looking so incredibly sexy he just knew he was going to end the night between your legs one way or another. With time, when you turned out to be a lot tougher then you looked, he found himself lured in until eventually he felt an unfamiliar sense of comfort — he never admitted that though, not to himself or anyone else.

It wasn’t just the fact that you retaliated with snappy comebacks when they were called for, but it was more importantly the empathy you had in your eyes whenever you looked at him. He wasn’t used to being looked at like that. He couldn’t really remember doing anything worthy of such a compassionate gesture, but it just seemed like it came naturally to you.

That had grown to become what he appreciated the most by your company, which was why he tended to seek it so often.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged casually, turning his eyes back to his laptop, pretending to work.

“I don’t know, just seem off, somehow.”

“Might have something to do with university riding my ass,” he groaned as his head fell back, sneaking a quick glimpse towards you, disappointed when he yet again wasn’t met with your eyes.

But it was all probably just a temporary quarrel. It wasn’t like you hadn’t fought before (though it had never ended as badly as it did that night), and every time he ended up back in your bed.

Saturday, two weeks since you had physically rushed him out of your dorm, he reached out.

You had gone with your friends to a house party the following weekend, and had an awful time. It seemed like no matter how much you drank, you never even started to feel tipsy. Then you had overheard a rumour in passing, of a girl who was looking for her friend who had supposedly disappeared with a certain brooding guy with pink hair, which had her a little concerned. After that there was no saving your mood.

You didn’t want to give him the power to cause this reaction in you, so this weekend you’d decided to just stay inside, telling your friends you weren’t feeling too good. You had wrapped yourself in a blanket, binging a silly sitcom while you devoured some chips.

And just as the clock passed two a.m., about the time Sukuna usually decided he’s had enough of whatever party he was at, your phone dinged with a text message from him.

Sukuna (IGNORE): hey, you down?

Your eyes instantly rolled aggressively far back into your head at the shameless attempt of reaching out. This was exactly what you expected if you ever were to hear from him again; a cheeky little text in the middle of the night to see if you would give yourself up so willingly to him.

Who could blame him? It wasn’t like you hadn’t opened the door for him every time he came rushing over. But this time was going to be different, locking your phone without answering and tossing it beside you again.

After ten minutes, another ding chimed.

Sukuna (IGNORE): cmon pretty, you and me

Again you ignored it, your slowly growing agitation having you chew the inside of your cheek.

Ding!

Sukuna (IGNORE): really gonna ignore me?

Sukuna (IGNORE): this is ridiculous

Sukuna (IGNORE): you’re a real piece of work, yk that right?

Then he went radio silent, and you started to picture him, wondering if he was secretly losing his mind by the lack of response he was receiving — you hoped he was.

You could only begin to imagine the amount of alcohol he had needed to consume in order to get down from his high horse just to send the first text. But then when he continued to send them, bordering on a pathetic behaviour, you wondered what the hell had gotten into him. If his friends knew how he was acting so desperately in the private messages of a girl he was supposedly “only screwing”, they would lose their shit — was Sukuna finally pussy whipped?

But it was probably delusional of you to think that was the case, when it was a lot more likely he simply couldn’t find any girls at the party that he hadn’t fucked already or didn’t interest him, and he was just so certain you were ready to welcome him with open legs arms. You were after all, according to him, a crazy slut.

After 45 minutes, an involuntary sigh escaped you when your phone dinged another time, his name lighting up the screen.

Sukuna (IGNORE): come open up

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to yourself, the last text making you get up from your comfortable seat on your bed, but not to open up the door to the building. No, you headed for your window which had a perfect view of the entrance to the building. And sure enough, three floors down, standing right outside the locked door, stood the familiar figure of Sukuna, gaze already angled towards your window.

“Open the fucking door,” you could make out his muffled shout through the window. Slightly stumbling in place, he cupped his hands around his mouth to shout again. “It’s freezing like hell out here!”

There was a small urge burning inside you to do as he asked, to give into the desire and let him in. Not for sex though, but for his presence. It was embarrassing to admit, but you’d grown somewhat used to falling asleep next to him, his body warming you under the shared covers, your fingers following the lines of his tattoos while he left a trail of tingles on your skin with a modest touch.

And the secret conversations you both let disappear into oblivion, where you had been introduced to the rare sound of his low chuckle, which wasn’t so hard to pull from him as one might think.

His muffled, intoxicated yelling continued when he held your stare, only for you to block it by abruptly pulling your blinds down to shield him out.

The next weekend rolled around, and Sukuna was attending yet another party in a desperate attempt to rid you from his mind, especially after the show that took place just one week ago.

Never had there ever been an individual to have such an impact on him. It seemed like forever since he had made the mistake of pursuing you for a few moments of pleasure, which you had certainly provided. What he couldn’t have possibly predicted, was how you had managed to creep under his skin and create a deeper connection that had him coming back time and time again — still refusing to believe that connection was a reality.

And now you had him acting like a pathetic fool, showing up outside your window in his drunken state after littering your inbox with texts that had him absolutely mortified the next morning when he woke up and saw what he had done.

At least you’d done him the decency of not running your mouth about his little drunken tantrum. It wasn’t like he deserved it, and deep down he knew that too. But he was more hung up on the fact that this whole ordeal needed to end, because he’d never hear the end of it if his friends learned that he, of all people, was acting up because of a girl.

But not tonight either, would he catch a break from you tormenting his mind, as he was unable to keep his alluring glances from flicking in your direction whenever he spotted you through the thick crowd of drunken people.

You seemed to be so wrapped up in your own evening, downing drink after drink while laughing with your friends, looking blissfully unaware that he was even in the same house as you.

He knew he needed a form of distraction, anything to help take his mind off of you, because it was starting to get to a point where even he couldn’t deny how extremely pathetic he was behaving.

That’s when his eyes managed to shift to the individual laughing at your side, someone he recognised you had sat with in the library on several occasions. Her smile mirrored yours as she playfully leaned her head on your shoulder while her tipsy laugh overcame her — she looked good, absolutely striking, though not as gorgeous as you.

With a glint in her eyes, Sukuna could tell she definitely had a wild side to her that would be down for anything that could take his mind away from you. So the second she split from your side to get another drink, he slowly made his way over to her.

When she became aware of his looming presence behind her, he was met with furrowed eyebrows as his name fell from her lips in confusion. But it didn’t take much effort from him to soften her expression into a somewhat adventurous one. He just did what he did best and girls seemed to fall at his feet, it didn’t matter what reputation he had. And when he sensually brought his hand up to cup her jaw, he could feel how she shuddered against his touch ever so slightly.

Contrary to popular belief, Sukuna hadn’t been with anyone since you. He had definitely tried, but something unspeakable inside him stopped him every time. And he firmly believed that was part of the reason he hadn’t been able to move on. So tonight was the night he broke his voluntary dry period — and it seemed he was going to be successful.

But as much as he was trying to keep his attention on the girl he couldn’t remember the name of, his subconscious still drifted towards the idea of you, if you were aware of his advances on your friend.

Lucky for you, the alcohol running through your bloodstream had all your attention focused on your immediate surroundings — until your friend came tapping on your shoulder twenty minutes later, pulling you close to her so you would hear her clearly.

“Would you mind if I slept with Sukuna?”

“What?”

Barely any sound made its way past your tongue, definitely swallowed into the vacuum of loud music and talk of the party. Pure shock was written all over your face at her out of pocket question.

“Well, I know the two of you had this arrangement. But that’s over, right?” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to stifle the excited grin that was threatening to overtake her entire face.

Maybe it was partly because of the intoxicating liquid in your system, but you had trouble wrapping your head around what was actually happening right now. Was she actually asking for your permission to sleep with Sukuna? Some friend she had was… then again, you knew what kind of influence he had on girls — of course he was having her surrender to him.

While swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your eyes searched for him, breath hitching when you found his eyes already locked on you. This was the first time in a long time the two of you had made direct eye contact, and it nearly felt fragile.

A glimpse of the Sukuna you’d come to get to know in between the privacy of your bedsheets was who you were met with, and a weird sense of longing filled you — had you missed him?

From what you observed, you could easily think he felt the same, his Adam’s apple bopping nervously as he swallowed, holding your gaze tenderly. For a moment, it was just the two of you in the room. There was nearly a physical pull between where he stood and yourself, as the look you shared started to convey hundreds of unmentioned things.

But Sukuna caught himself before falling too deep, the melancholy you felt evaporating immediately when his cocky grin returned to his face before putting his cup to his lips again, and the familiar fury filled your body instead.

“Definitely over,” you muttered, eyes returning to your friend who lit up at your statement.

“So you won’t hate me?” Her hands gripped your forearm, shaking weakly in excitement.

“No.” The small lie danced in the atmosphere, and she did not catch it at all, spewing a string of cute ‘thank you’s before hurrying back over to Sukuna, who still had his eyes on you as she glued herself to him once again.

There were a lot of foul things you wanted to scream at him, letting all your frustration out on him again — even after these lonely weeks, were you had cursed yourself for even thinking of missing him, he was still the same asshole with no consideration for your feelings whatsoever. Everything was just a game to him to get high of his power trip, and you had just fallen into his trap like so many girls before you.

You averted your gaze first, trying your best to have your presence return to the party — you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of spoiling yet another one of your nights. You buried yourself further into the crowd, eventually ending up in the kitchen.

With a deep breath, you poured yourself another drink, only for your annoyance to return once someone so carelessly bumped into you, your beer spilling over your hand. “Watch where you’re-“

“Oh sorry- well hello,” the tone of the stranger changed once his eyes landed on you, feeling your brows soften as quickly as they had creased once you got a look at his magnificent, blue eyes.

“Hi,” you breathed, your tone matching his delight to some degree.

Whoever this guy was, he was painfully gorgeous with striking features which were incomparable to anything you’d ever seen before. And right now, he was eying you with lustful intent, something you did not mind at all. Maybe this was exactly what you needed tonight.

“Lucky I am to crash into a pretty thing like you,” he nearly purred into your ear, hand finding your waist in a possessive grip to pull you closer to hear him better, his white wisps of hair slightly tickling your cheek.

Your own, delicate hand slid up his chest before snaking around his neck to pull him even closer. “Can’t stay too upset about it.” His hot breath brushed your face when he pulled away again, the intoxicating smell of his cologne filling your senses.

“What’s your name?”

The scoff that met you when you told him your name caught you by surprise. What he said next, however, was worse.

“You’re Sukuna’s plaything, aren’t you?”

Pushing yourself off him again to see if there was any signs that this guy was just making a stupid joke, but there was nothing.

A million questions tumbled through your mind — was that what you were known as around campus? Was it Sukuna himself who’d honoured you with the title? What exactly did ‘plaything’ entail? Would this ruin your chance for any potential matches because that was all you would ever be perceived as?

“Is that what he’s telling people?”

The small chuckle from the guy only deepened your frown. “No, no, he doesn’t really talk about you at all.”

“Then how do you know about Sukuna and I?”

“Just because he doesn’t mention you, your escapades aren’t exactly secret.” You wanted to punch something — you wanted to punch him, send a right hook right into Sukuna’s jaw, the image of him floating around in your head. “People just know to stay away from you.” A huff of genuine and true disbelief slipped out of you, pinching your eyes shut as the alcohol did wonders to escalate your frustration with the speed of light. “And he has this look.”

“A look?” You sighed, narrowing your eyebrows as you met his gaze again, suddenly aware that his hand was still on your waist, showing no indication that he had any plans of letting go despite the evident tension in your frame.

He licked his lips, amusement painting his face as his eyes flicked towards your lips. “He clearly doesn’t like it when someone else shows an interest.”

To think you’d given Sukuna the time of day, daring to lure you in with faint insights to a vulnerable side that you had been charmed by, only for it to disappear into nothingness, never to be mentioned again. Then, he had the audacity to throw the most vulgar insults right to your face, as if you weren’t standing right in front of him, bawling your eyes out — and now you were being told that he still acted as if he had a form of ownership over you.

“Asshole,” you mumbled mostly to yourself. “Well,” turning your full attention to him again. “So, are you like his friend or something?” He laughed instantly.

“Nah, not even close.” He began to lean closer, feeling his satisfied grin on his lips as they gently brushed against yours.

With the sensation of feeling someone else’s lips against yours after all those weeks, you let out a breath of relief, the tension slowly seeping out of your body when the stranger still held onto you with a gentle longing.

His lips were soft, moving in a smooth rhythm with your own, causing a small whimper to escape you. He broke away, the chuckle chiming in your ears again.

“Over a little kiss?” He teased, hand still on your cheek while his thumb traveled across your cheekbone.

“Shut up,” you giggled, stretching up on your toes to kiss him again, this time with more hunger, fingers carefully tugging at his shirt. He happily indulged in the action, as his tongue swifly ran along your bottom lip before parting them — only to be abruptly jerked away just as things were about to get good, as you were finally reunited with a tingling you’d so dearly missed.

Both of you stared towards the source of the disruption, a strong and veiny hand placed on his shoulder. You shouldn’t be too surprised to see it was Sukuna who had interrupted your heated session, but that didn’t stop you from staring daggers at him, with the right corner of his mouth forced into a smile.

“Gojo! Figured this is the situation I’d find you,” Sukuna said, purposely keeping his eyes away from you.

The stranger, now suddenly titled with the name Gojo, stuck his tongue against the inside of his cheek, just as unamused as you were. “Always such a pleasure.”

“Didn’t know you two were friends,” the way the last word left him was drenched in disgust, his hand moving from Gojo’s shoulder to stuff them both in the pockets of his pants.

“Just leave, Sukuna,” you interjected, but he ignored you completely.

“We just met.” Gojo was so lighthearted in his speech, suddenly presenting himself entirely unbothered by Sukuna’s appearance.

“Looked rather friendly from where I stood.”

“Careful Sukuna, one might start to think you’re jealous.” One could hear the smirk in his voice, while Sukuna’s jaw clenched at his small but effective jab.

That’s when he finally turned his head to look at you, meeting your hard scowl. His expression matched yours, every muscle in his face that could be tightened was.

Heart raising, breath quickening, Gojo’s hand still tight on your waist, eyes staring into Sukuna’s — so many factors fuelling the fire in your body, slowly having you shifting your weight from one foot to another in a nervous haze.

“Could I get two words with you?” His demeanour was still showing no signs of compassion, which made it hard to believe the hint of softness you thought you heard in his voice was real.

“Not interested.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sukuna groaned cruelly, any evidence of softness gone.

“Like what, exactly?” You challenged, daring him to call you the words that you knew were resting on his mind.

His anger grew stronger, pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathed your name — a shiver shot through your body, the way his rough speech carried your name still had you weak.

“Listen, you heard her. Just leave,” Gojo said calmly, though the taunt was still heard. You didn’t know if he did it because he had some personal vendetta against Sukuna, or if this was how he was and he just couldn’t help it. Either way, it caused Sukuna to snap at him.

“Why don’t you stay the fuck out of it?”

The white haired guy at your side seemed to fight back a laugh as he stared down Sukuna, not at all intimidated. Nonetheless, his hand disappeared from its spot at your curve, turning your head towards him at the loss of his tender and surprisingly comfortable grip.

Was Sukuna really going to take this away from you as well? Ruin yet another evening you had desperately clung onto in hopes it would provide a good time, something you had wished for ever since you stood in a puddle of your own tears three weeks ago?

“You know, Sukuna,” Gojo trailed off confidently, “with a tongue as sharp as yours, one day one of these pretty girls will slap you across the face and I’ll be in the front row, enjoying the show.” Before Sukuna had time to fire any kind of snarky comeback, Gojo had already turned to face you. “I don’t think tonight’s the night, sweetheart. But I’m sure I’ll see you around.” His charming smile lingered as a bitter goodbye before he turned on his heel to rejoin the party as if nothing had happened at all, utterly unfazed by his little confrontation with Sukuna.

You let your disappointed gaze follow Gojo as he disappeared into the crowd, any request to get him to stay dying before they reached past your lips.

Facing Sukuna again, his shoulders were high but seemed more at peace now that the two of you were left alone, though surrounded by drunk students in every corner — but they didn’t concern you at all.

You were focusing all your willpower not to fulfil Gojo’s prophecy already, knowing it would lose all its power if you folded to the aggression already.

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” you nearly spat in his face, desperate to get as far away from him as possible. There was not an ounce of worry to spare any of his feelings anymore, as you let your shoulder crash into him when you attempted to escape from his vicinity.

It was probably naive to believe he’d let you go that easily, head falling back in frustration before he grabbed your wrist. The action of his clutch circling your wrist probably looked a lot worse than it was, as his grip was surprisingly more tender than you expected it to be.

But you instantly pulled your hand to yourself before you had much time to reflect over the fact. “Don’t touch me! I told you to stay away from me.”

You continued to bully your way through the crowd, Sukuna following the narrow path you created while trying to get your attention. It wasn’t until you stepped into the less crowded front lawn that you stopped dead in your tracks, spinning around to meet him with fire in your eyes.

“Isn’t my friend waiting for you inside? Shame to let her wait for so long.” Every word was venomous, earning you a mean scoff.

“Like I care.”

“Certainly seemed like you cared very much about her not half an hour ago,” you said, crossing your arms angrily over your chest.

He couldn’t help the self satisfied grin that was planted on his face by your poorly hidden jealousy. “So much for being ‘definitely over’, as you put it so nicely.”

“Spare me!” You growled, taking a step closer as he had you filled to the rim with agitation. “At least I didn’t let my jealousy get the best of me and interrupt your little make out session!”

Of course he’d ignore your call out of his jealousy, latching onto how you basically confessed you had in fact felt a sting at the scene he’d displayed so graciously a few feet from you earlier that night.

“Knew it got a rise out of you-“

“The audacity you have to tease me about this, after you so rudely interrupted Gojo and I!” Your voice had gotten significantly louder, having the people closest to you peak a curious ear — this was, after all, Sukuna engaging in a shouting match with a girl for everyone to witness.

“Were you going to sleep with him?” The innocent question he asked nearly had you feel sympathy. His hands were removed from his pockets, tense at his side.

“Maybe I was, and so what?” He seemed a little taken aback by how in-your-face you stayed when he had let his true feelings shine through in his words. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business!”

“But Gojo? Come on,” he scoffed.

“Sukuna,” calling his name interrupted how his antsy gaze traveled your surroundings, drawing them directly towards you. “You are truly embarrassing yourself by acting this way!”

“Excuse me?” Towering over you, he took offence to your statement despite knowing damn well it was true.

“You want me to recall the events? Because I most certainly will! Maybe call over your friends and they can hear all about how you showed up outside my window, drunk out of your mind, begging me to let you in!”

Being a half decent human being, you felt a small twinge of guilt, especially when you saw how his eyes frantically roamed your face while his limps grew tense.

“But I’m the jealous one, for not wanting to see you and my so-called friend macking on each other!” He’d never heard your tone so full of pure sarcasm, and it had him nearly speechless. He wanted to defend himself, which he’d never had any problem with before. “Go back to her! Another name to add to your list! I can only imagine how much it’s grown since we last talked!”

He liked his lips in frustration before opening his mouth. “I haven’t slept with anyone since that night!”

“Please,” you scoffed with an aggressive roll of the eyes. “Like I’m supposed to believe that!”

“I’m not fucking lying,” his voice raised, matching yours.

A deep sigh left your lungs. “Fine, you’re not lying! How noble of you! I’m proud, I must say. Finally managed to keep it in your pants for three whole weeks.”

“I think you’re being a tad bit unreasonable here!” He said with a low voice, carefully leaning closer in an attempt to save what privacy the conversation might have left.

“Want a gold star for not catching chlamydia yet? A pat on the back?” You taunted, taking another step closer, ignoring his unfair sentence as you restrained your arms across your chest not to pound weak fists against his chest.

God, yet again he had the tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. After everything, you should have been able to distance yourself from him. When he had you this fragile, you gave him power you wished he didn’t have over you — you were scared he fed off of it.

But there was a storm raging inside him as well, struggling to contain all the intense feelings that were burning inside him, actively fighting the urge to physically reach out for you.

Previously, he’d had no issue strangling that tiny voice in the back of his mind that told him to surrender to his gentle side, despite it always being audible when he was around you.

But the time spent separated from you had intensified that voice, now yelling at him to let his fingers dry your tears, to kiss your puffy, red cheeks, pull your smaller frame into his embrace to comfort you — all actions that were highly unnatural to him, yet he so badly wanted to feel your trembling cries calm against his body.

“What is it that you want from me?” You pleaded, stifling the sniffles.

“I want-“ your glossy eyes interrogated him, threatening him to spill the confession he was too scared to put into actual words. “Let’s just head back to your place.” The wide eyed stare you gave him made him realise just how badly he had phrased it. He simply wanted to go back to your dorm, which had such a comfortable atmosphere, and you could continue the conversation under four eyes.

You huffed in disbelief. “When I thought you couldn’t sink any fucking lower. You think so little of me that you’d think I’d actually want to sleep with you?”

“Shit,” he groaned quietly while you were still talking, panic starting to take over him. “That’s not what I meant.” Every word came out rushed, like he was trying to save his own skin more than anything.

“You’re disgust me! Do you have no tact?!”

Your arms tightened even more around yourself in a failed effort to contain your low sobs. He still managed to disappoint you, despite the fact that you had learned it was best to have zero expectations of him.

“Give me some slack, I’m trying here!” He said desperately, the frustration he tried to suppress seeping through the huge cracks he had created in his own image. It earned him another taunting laugh.

“Slack? Really? After you called me a slut, a whore, crazy, and clingy, I’m supposed to give you some slack?!” You exclaimed, the tears wetting your cheeks.

He dared let some of his urges steer his body closer to you, but his hand stopped an inch before it made contact with your bare arm, feeling your warmth radiating against his hovering palm.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t back away. You just held his gaze, challenging him to cross the line and actually let his hand touch you, as if it would help him plead his case — but you never even felt a single graze of his skin against you.

Letting your eyes flitter over his shoulder, you spotted a generous audience of his friends in the window having turned their attention towards your confrontation as it had quickly increased in volume.

“Damn,” you breathed in faux disappointment. “Your friends are watching. But don’t worry, you haven’t blown your perfect reputation of being a coldhearted piece of shit.”

Waiting for another second, you gave him one last chance to just give in, pretending that if he actually touched your arm, he would be able to prove something to you.

But you knew you needed more. You wanted him to confess the things his eyes exposed, in spite of how closed off his entire demeanour was. You knew your suspicions couldn't be completely made up from the depths of your mind, that he must have done something to, at the very least, plant the seed for the thoughts that had rummaged your mind.

Staring into his eyes, you remembered all those nights shared in secret, and how pathetic you felt for missing them — yearning for them.

“I didn’t want this,” he burst out, eyebrows narrowing to enhance his anger, though he did not manage to let go of the softness in his eyes. “You’re a real pain in my neck. Fuck, if I could erase you from my memory, you bet your sweet ass I would!”

You could not form any coherent thoughts about where he could possibly go with this speech, only sensing he was going to spill yet another string of dumb and meaningless words that showed no reflection over the situation whatsoever.

“You’re a plague. A god damn sickness, and I cannot get rid of you!”

“Nice one, Sukuna. I’ll add that to the list of all the horrible things you’ve called me.”

“Don’t try to twist my words, you know what I’m trying to say!”

Placing a pointy finger at the centre of his chest, he felt the pressure of your dig but kept his eyes locked on your sad face. “They say it!”

“What?”

“Stop beating around the bush, and say what’s on your mind. Go on,” you challenged, his chest heaving violently as he tried to remain calm to some degree. “You know exactly what I’m getting at. There’s a reason you reacted the way you did that night, and there’s a reason you could not stand to see me with Gojo. So say it — loud and clear!”

He leaned in even further, feeling his hot and angry breath brush against your nose. His mouth opened, every confession resting at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say it, to tell you what you wanted to hear, but his mouth closed as quickly as it had opened.

Déjà Vu overcame you when you placed the palms of your hands against his chest and used all your strength to increase the distance between you.

“You’re a fucking coward!” A loud sob fell from your lips when he once again spoke your name, nearly causing your jelly knees to collapse under you. “Go back in there! Enjoy your evening! Get your dick sucked, I don’t care as long as I don’t have to look at your face!” You gestured towards the house behind him.

Without another word, your cries continued as you turned your back to him and started to walk away, blocking out how he called your name.

For what felt like hours, Sukuna stood in that exact same spot and watched as your figure slowly disappeared down the dark street. There was not a single calm cell in his body, so wrapped up in his pointless train of thought he didn’t even notice he’d been approached by one of his friends until he placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Sukuna-“

“Get your fucking hand off me,” Sukuna growled, instantly shrugging off the gesture that had been one of genuine consideration.

His feet started to carry him down the street in the opposite direction you had, blatantly ignoring his friend’s attempt in catching his attention — a lot like you had with him.

His spiralling mind made no sense, all the thoughts blending into one deafening noise where he couldn’t make out a single thing — except the one clear image of you that stuck out. And his only worry was that he had no clue when or if he’d ever see you again.

It’s been a long time coming, but Sukuna’s attitude has finally come to bite him in the ass.

This time around, he hadn’t been as fortune to have the option to let his dramatics disappear into the back of his mind, as there had been a row of nosy audience who’d witnessed the entire thing play out right outside that crowded party.

Rumours spread like wildfire, and of course everyone and their mother had an opinion on the matter. If Sukuna didn’t know any better, he would think he was back in high school by the way people were talking about him. When he entered a room filled with peers from his faculty, both his and your name followed him like a shadow.

Just a few days after the party, he’d picked up on someone indulging in cheap gossip when he passed their table. “That’s that Sukuna guy, from the party right off campus!” The guy said in a poorly concealed whisper.

“That’s the guy? She really went for him?” The other guy me responded.

Their not-so-secret conversation was abruptly cut short when Sukuna slapped a strong hand on the back of the first guy who talked. “Ever heard about keeping your nose out of other people’s shit?” It sounded close to a threat, straining out through gritted teeth.

That was not the first nor the last time Sukuna overheard someone talk about the incident, most people vouching in your favour — obviously.

Even his friends seemed to lean in your direction. They never said it straight out, but they made it clear enough every time they even dared to give their two cents about the situation.

One evening, despite feeling more in the mood to just walk around town and mope, they convinced him to join the gang for a beers and pizza. It took only an hour before they cracked and brought you up. “Why didn’t you tell us you were dating?”

Sukuna had instantly shot him a death glare, his leg slowly starting to bounce. “The fuck are you talking about?” A small snicker traveled the group.

“Come on, man. You and whatever her name is. I thought the two of you were only fucking.”

“We were only fucking,” he confirmed, instantly bringing the glass bottle to his lips for a big swig.

“Your little lover’s quarrel last Saturday says otherwise.” Sukuna’s agitation only escalated by their annoying teasing, which had him completely ignore their underlying concern for him, visible to anyone but him in the looks they all shared — the teasing was just the only way they saw it possible to approach this topic.

“Funny,” he deadpanned.

“If you wanna talk about it-“ their attempt of companionship was quickly shut down when he quickly got on his feet.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he groaned, and stormed out of the apartment without another word. He wasn’t going to sit there and endure their lame comments, concealing how they just wanted him to confront his issues regrading you.

Walking down the dark street, he lit himself a cigarette and pulled out his phone, shame not being able to stop the bad habit he had developed of relentlessly stalking your socials.

It was absolutely pointless, because you hadn’t posted anything new since before you threw him out. If anything, he just felt even more pathetic as he found himself just looking at your old posts.

He realised how many of your small details he had picked up, like how your eyes creased when you smiled or how you tended to hide your face when you were genuinely laughing — all traits he found himself missing, and cursing himself for not fully letting himself enjoy when he experienced it first hand.

But it wasn’t just online you had gone awol. Sukuna had started to think you might have dropped out because you were nowhere to be seen. You didn’t even tag along with your crowd, your usual seat always left empty.

The reason for that chair staying unoccupied for the most part, was because you had taken extensive steps in order remain a stranger. You thought that not having to see his face, even if it was for just a split second in passing, the whole thing would eventually just blow over until it didn’t cause you any pain.

Easier said than done.

Much like Sukuna, you were more than aware that everyone knew. As much as you tried to reach within yourself for some zen in order to turn the other cheek, you couldn’t stop how people paid you a pitying gaze whenever they talked to you.

It didn’t help the process of trying to heal from the pain that had set root in you so deeply. Had you known how badly being entangled with him would end, you would probably have thought twice about accepting his advances.

And somehow, despite it all, every word, every touch and every confrontation, you missed him.

It wasn’t until you experienced the absence of his presence, you realised how much value you had put into the part he had come to play in your life. Somewhere along the journey, you had both nurtured your relation without even knowing it, to the point where it had started to mean something — and that was why it wouldn’t stop agonising you.

However, this was Ryomen Sukuna we were talking about. It was a waste of time to hope he could ever reach that level of reflection. He had already caved once. Chances he’d do it again were slim to none, enjoying his view from his high horse too much to sacrifice it for some girl he’d replace eventually.

No, staying out of his way until you managed to demote him to nothing but a cautionary tale was the way to go.

“How the hell did you get into the building?” The question came out a lot sharper than intended, but the shock of having Sukuna standing in your doorway, sporting his famous frown, shaped your tone.

“Your neighbour’s is kind of a pussy,” was the only explanation he gave you, which could mean anything.

Your breathing became uneasy, not having seen his face in person for nearly three weeks. Same tufts of messy hair, his tattoos peaking up out of his shirt and up his neck, hands stuffed in his pockets like always.

“Not interested,” you mumbled, rushing to close the door in his face. But a loud thud interrupted the action, Sukuna having smoothly placed his foot between the crack.

“Let’s just have a civil conversation,” he insisted.

With a frustrated sigh, you creaked the door open again, resting your hand on your hip. “Five minutes.”

“Seriously,” he huffed. “You’re really going to be difficult right now?” You simply raised your eyebrows at his familiar, cold tone.

“You’re the one showing up unannounced.”

He cleared his throat, the sound of your voice reminding him why he had actually come to see you. “Sorry,” he forced out, and you could actually hear how he put a hint of honesty into it. “But I think five minutes isn’t going to be enough for all we have to talk about.”

“You’re just assuming I’m willing to talk,” you pointed out.

There was a small spark inside, screaming for you to just surrender to him. Let him take the stage and explain whatever he had on his chest so you wouldn’t have to have another lonely night. All the fantasies of him reaching out had kept you company, and maybe you had manifested him into standing in front of you right now.

That didn’t change the fact that it would be nothing but unfair to yourself to give in to the first sprinkle of reunion.

You watched him physically restrain the reactive groan in his throat. “I would like to apologise for my behaviour,” he spoke slowly, almost as if he was reading it up from a script. You couldn’t stop how it caused you to sigh again, impatiently knitting your arms in front of you to see if he was going anywhere with this. “Can I please come in?”

Slowly your muscles started to grow fidgety while his eyes bore into you, his voice carrying in an uncharacteristic, delicate tune. After a moment of silence, weighing your options, you slowly nodded your head yes and stepped aside to let him inside.

“You rearranged,” was the first thing he said when he entered, eyes roaming your room, none of your furniture sat in the place they used to be. But what actually caught his eye was how he couldn’t spot any of his tokens hidden away in the corners anymore.

He turned around to face you when he heard another sigh from you. “If you’re gonna talk, then talk.”

“I should never have called you those things, and I apologise.” The way the words came out of his mouth told you he must to have practiced exactly what to say, reciting word for word.

“Thank you,” you said coldly.

“And I’m sorry for how I treated you at the party.”

He hated how quiet you were, simply having your eyes travel his face as he was waltzing way out of his own comfort zone. He knew you could tell, evident in every joint of his body that he was about to beg you to put him out of his misery.

“Fuck, stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled, having to turn his head to break your intense and investigative stare. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

You scoffed, not entirely surprised he would somehow end up loading some responsibility on your shoulders even though he was the one who had put you both in this situation. “Sukuna, you called me a sickness!”

“Yes, I did, because you are!” He snapped, flaming eyes back on you in a heartbeat, catching you off guard. “You have grown stuck in my head, and I can’t get you off my damn mind no matter how fucking hard I try!”

“But that’s not my fault!” You responded sternly, wanting to keep from screaming.

“I know, but it’s not like I planned for this to happen. I just wanted to have fun with you for one fucking night, and then I thought a second night wouldn’t hurt. Clearly it did, because I-“ he let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his hand through his hair. “Fucking hell,” he breathed quietly.

He began to reminisce about the evening he had decided to go home with you a second time. That wasn’t his MO, usually. Once he’d had his way with a girl, he went on to pretend they didn’t exist.

You hadn’t done anything in particular the first time around to make him pursue you again. He was simply bored and no one else caught his eyes — he also knew you could provide one hell of a night.

It didn’t take a lot of convincing on his part, quickly heading back to your dorm again after he had approached you.

He had you moaning his name and clawing at his back, practically begging for more. And once he was done, he didn’t wait to get up and get dressed.

And in the pitch, black darkness of your room, he had stumbled over what he thought was your backpack, face planting straight for the floor. There was a moment of utter silence as he scrambled back on his feet before he heard the most melodic sound of your laughter.

“Did you just fall?”

He was so thankful it was dark so you weren’t able to see the embarrassment lightly flush his cheeks.

“Shut up,” he mumbled as he twisted the doorknob.

He still heard your small giggle seep through the crack as he exited — and that was exactly what had lured him in. His subconscious didn’t need anything more than that sweet sound to be hypnotised. He didn’t even have any control over it, as it brought him right back to you for many more nights.

“Because you what?” You challenged, bringing him back to the moment by capturing his eyes, forcing him to keep them on you.

“I don’t know,” a low grumble, feeling how he wanted so badly to peer his eyes off you, looking anywhere but your face.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” you huffed. “After calling me a crazy slut, you lost that privilege. So whatever it was you came here to tell me, say it with your god damn chest.”

He licked his teeth in frustration, so conflicted in how to feel about that sharp tongue of yours. Normally Sukuna would not accept the type of attitude you served him from anyone. But whenever it was you who matched his energy, he always felt himself drawn further in — despite also finding it extremely insufferable.

“The reason I hit on your friend wasn’t necessarily to make you jealous-“

“How big of you,” you cut him off, and it was his turn to scoff.

“Let me finish,” slightly raising his voice. While your frown remained, you sealed your lips shut to keep any further snarky outbursts from interrupting him. “It was yet another desperate attempt to get you out of my head. She just looked like she would be down for it. And then I saw you with Gojo. Fuck, it made me sick!”

The disgust was clear as day, soaking every word as they came out. Whatever his relation to Gojo was prior to that night, it became clear that seeing him with you triggered him to lose any restraints of decency he might have possessed that evening.

“It pissed me off, and I couldn’t just watch.”

“You could have gone home-”

“Like hell I could!” Before you even had the chance to finish your sentence, he protested. With slow steps, he started to approach you, filling your body with anticipation.

Still missing his touch as much as you had the entire time apart, it took immense self control not to give into the desire to feel the firmness of his body again.

His glare bore deep into you, causing realisation to finally set in — feelings you had smothered and never put into words, finally gaining a solid presence in your mind.

“You’re mine. You always have been.”

Instinctively your lungs caught a sharp breath, taking in every detail of his face as his loaded confession slowly sunk in.

Confused — so far past comprehension of what you were feeling. Was this what you’d wanted?

As much as you’d complained about how he acted as he was entitled to you whenever he snaked his dominant arms around your body, his possessiveness had never been something to turn you away. These were the actions that had planted the seed to your every growing relation, sucked in by how he always made you feel desired — but also safe.

His grip on you had never been hard or unpleasant, despite how it might have appeared to every other person outside the two of you. And when his body was pressed up against you as you fell asleep, you knew that night would be a lot more peaceful, just his energy grounding you in a sense of security.

Yet, that feeling shattered that night.

“I’m yours?” Your voice came out weak, tears you were beyond tired of drying, once more welling up along your waterline. “But you can’t be mine, is that it?”

“What?” His tone was a mixture of utter bewilderment and frustration.

“Do you know what your problem is, Sukuna?” A quiet sniffle before you spoke again. “You’re selfish. Too proud to acknowledge anything real.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Do I need to remind you that I didn’t demand anything other than some slight clarification? I had every right to question what the hell was going on, because there were… unspoken things developed and you just-“ you stopped talking when you had to let out a shaky breath, letting the tears roll calmly down your cheeks.

Something he had learned since getting to know you, was just how much he disliked seeing you cry. What was worse, was how he was the one who so easily brought them to the surface.

Would it be wrong to reach out, let his rough hands dry them away?

Against his better judgement, he lifted his hand to graze your soft cheeks — only for you to instantly swat his hand away.

“No, you don’t get to do that!” You snapped, your sorrow painting every word. “You think you can march in here and just acknowledge some responsibility and think that’s good enough? You want to go back to spending your nights here while stringing me along?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he couldn’t help but let his voice raise to match yours, his message grasping on desperation.

“Then what is it you’re saying?” You pleaded, hands gesturing in front of you with built up despair. “What do you want? A relationship?” Once the word was out there, a taunting chuckle followed. “That’s not you.”

“Maybe it can be!”

Your hands curled into fists, all your emotions spilling into your fingers digging into your palms, hoping the action would wake you up, because there was no way Sukuna was actually standing in front of you saying he was considering a relationship.

“You piece of shit,” your voice cracked. “That’s not fucking funny.”

“Give me some credit, I’m not saying it to be funny!”

“Right-“ you were once again cut off by a violent sob. He knew he couldn’t blame you for being reluctant. He hadn’t done anything to deserve your understanding nature, but he still felt his anger being nurtured when it seemed he was getting nowhere, despite blotting himself unlike he’d never done before.

“Look, I-“ why was this so hard? He knew what he wanted to say, but all the words knotted themself before he had the chance to put them out into the world. “It has felt wrong. These past few weeks, not sleeping here, not being able to let people know who you really belonged to, in general not having you around has not felt right.”

Choking back your sadness, you were in awe at how vulnerable he was being, never in a million years had you ever thought you’d see the sight.

“I never regret anything, because like you said, I’m selfish. I usually don’t give a shit, except about you.” He finished his speech, a long breath of relief sunk his shoulders, some serenity starting to fill his body even though he wasn’t sure he had secured himself any future involvement with you — at least he had taken the opportunity to unload his shoulders.

For what felt like an eternity, you both let the silence settle, just looking at each other. The atmosphere was filled with every confession of the evening, while your eye contact seemed to convey the things that were yet to be revealed.

But the longer it took for you to respond, the more uneasy Sukuna became. He might have made a mistake by exposing himself, willingly giving you all the power-

“You’re really fucking stupid, you know that right?” He tilted his head, surprised to hear your tone had calmed down, the tiniest peak at the corner of your swollen lips.

“That thought has crossed my mind a few times lately,” he dared dip his toe in the changed energy, playing along with the bounce in your voice he had wished to hear again for so long.

You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, shaking your head like it would help sorting all your thoughts. The silence returned, and though it was more comfortable than before, the atmosphere had turned a little awkward. Overly aware of your own body, how puffy your face was from once again bawling out in front of him, slowly shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“Do I dare ask what the deal is now?”

He snorted instantly at your little question. “Funny,” he smirked. You only quirked an eyebrow as your nose crinkled with another quiet sniffle. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Think you kind of owe me,” you shrugged.

He picked up on the courages hint of playfulness, satisfaction returning to him as he was reunited with the silly banter he wouldn’t take for granted again. “You’re kind of a brat, you know that right?”

A tiny giggle played on your lips. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I did miss you.”

“Me too,” you whispered to his soft confession, a lot of the pent up stress from all those weeks beginning to finally drain out of you. “Sukuna?”

“Mhmm?”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

The familiar smug grin came to show. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

tags @sad-darksoul

a/n it's finally here. it's done. it's over... and i'm actually a little proud. like i kinda like it ngl... i just hope it doesn't flop bc it took me sooo long to write holy shit. but it's not hovering over me anymore so enjoy — so excited to see how it’s recived, bc i’m going to bed bc i got work in less than seven hours

likes, comments and reblogs is much appreciated

2K notes · View notes

spideyjimin · 2 months ago

Text

✨ my all time favourites BTS fics ✨

⟶ soo i've been really wanting to do this for a while already but i didn't really have the time to do it… soo here you have all the fics that I deeply loved & that i sometimes still read again 🫶🏼those fics are really amazing & thanks a lot to the writers for those masterpieces! 💞

sweet | ksj @oddinary4bts

⤷ Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military

idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut

meraki | jjk @taegularities

⤷ Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut

motherfuckin' train wreck | jjk @lovieku

⤷ when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

fwb au

new guy | knj @kithtaehyung

⤷ all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance, but the new guy is completing disrupting things... or is he?

smut ; university au ; enemies to lovers?

into it | pjm @xpeachesncream

⤷ helping your bestfriend out with his research project happens to come with more than what you bargained for.

grad school au, idiots to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, angst, smut

bands | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

strip club/nightlife au, post grad au, fluff, angst, smut

lowkey | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

college au, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

saudade | kth @chateautae

⤷ a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au

100 km/hour | pjm @chateautae

⤷ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

college!au, smut, pwp

fine line | jjk @soobibabe

⤷ Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

romance

hazy hours | myg @borathae

⤷ part of the kinkoctober 2024

new relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

fxck a fxckboy | myg @yoongifis

⤷ where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.

smut, pwp

before we shatter | jjk @caramelkoo

⤷ dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

established relationship, idol!jungkook

warm nighs & clear lines | jjk @awrkive

⤷ there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.

or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.

SMUT, fluff

all your fault | jhs @minisugakoobies

⤷ It’s all Hobi’s fault!

smut, drabble, PWP, established relationship, non-Idol!AU

muscle memory | knj @taegularities

⤷ the weather outside might be trying to chill you to your bones, but watching Namjoon's seething hot presence work out is enough to melt every little piece of you - and he sees the longing in your eyes all too soon.

establish relationship; some fluff, mostly smut

magic stick | jjk @badbtssmut

⤷ Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

#bts #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts rec #catie rec

917 notes · View notes

jimilter · 3 months ago

Text

the ferrari guy | jjk.

You hire an assistant – and Jeon Jungkook loses his mind. Is that irrational of him? Not when the guy you’ve chosen flirts like a hooker, looks like a runway model and dresses like he’s Giorgio Armani himself.

pairing: jungkook x reader rating: pg-15 genre: humor | fluff | chaebol!au | fwb!au | ceo!jungkook warnings: swearing + implied sex + jealousy + insecurity + a certain loml charming everyone’s pants off <3 word count: 3 k note: helloooo fam! i am alive and still writing apparently lmao. jimilter is still a safe space, a wonderful escape from real life and i have no plans of quitting this in near or far future (: no comments on the occasional disappearances tho bec real life has been hectic af! anyways, enjoy this humorous lil drabble from jk's pov (set between part 3 & 4) while i work on the massive angst in part 5! <3

— masterlist | feedback!

↝ the damsel & her knight ⁘ 01 02 03 [3.5] 04 05

On Thursday evening, while leaving work, Jeon Jungkook finds a flashy, bright red Ferrari convertible blocking his car in the parking lot of his office. An office in a building his father owns.

Needless to say, he is beyond mad.

"Who the heck even drives a Ferrari in our company?" he barks into the phone, scowling when his secretary gives an exasperated sigh.

"President ma'am interviewed some people today, sir. Maybe it's one of the candidate's cars?"

"What kind of a douchy person comes to a job interview in a convertible?" Jungkook is still scowling at the vermillion vehicle when his brain catches up with the rest of the information Haeri imparted. His mouth dropping open, he raises his free hand up in front of his face, as if to stop time. "Hold on – did you say President ma'am?"

"Uh, yes, si—"

"She interviewed people? Why? What for?" he cuts his secretary off, frowning.

"She is hiring an assistant, sir."

"Wha—why does she need an assistant?"

Haeri is quiet for a while. Then she clears her throat. "I would suggest you to not ask her this, sir."

Jungkook sighs. Haeri is always so straightforward with him. Sometimes a bit too straightforward. But she’s always guiding him around making stupid decisions, and maybe that is why he's had her in his office for nearly two years now. The longest he’s had a secretary ever since he joined the company as the CEO.

There’s also the fact that Haeri actually has a boyfriend and is immune to all of Jungkook’s charm… Not that he’s actually tried them on her, per se. He’s been otherwise occupied in that department for a while. Very happily and proudly so.

Clearing his throat, "Yeah, sorry," he grumbles to the girl, turning around to eye the offensive car again. "I'm texting you the license plate number, will you make an announcement on Prez's floor?"

"Sir, I—"

"Good. Thanks, Haeri, you're a gem!"

Even as a security guard comes and removes the obstructing vehicle within minutes and Jungkook is free to leave, his mind doesn’t feel settled. At all. He isn’t sure what it is that irks him about you hiring an assistant, but it is something for sure. Maybe he fears you’d pay him even lesser attention at work than the scant amount you do now. Maybe he thinks you won’t need his help with the integrated Firewall-VPN project anymore. Maybe he… Well, he isn't sure.

But something about this just usettles him. Which is what has him texting you close to midnight, casually dropping his question without offending you with a ‘why’ just like Haeri instructed him to.

↪ hey prez ↪ heard you’re hiring an assistant?

Your reply comes exactly ninety-four seconds later. Yes, he counts.

You heard that in the middle of the night?

He bites his lip, rubbing his reddening cheeks against the cold cotton of his pillow in embarrassment, but doesn’t lose hope because you’re still typing.

I have actually already had the interviews today The guy joins tomorrow You wanna drop by with a welcome gift basket? :)

His glare stays fixed on the little, taunting smile for a long while, before it moves to the word ‘guy’ in your text. You’ve hired a guy assistant.

Jungkook wonders if the bile suddenly roiling in his stomach has any correlation with the explicit images his brain suddenly conjures up of you and a faceless male making out in your office.

God, he’s going insane.

The next morning, Jungkook is barging into Yoongi's office with a frown. "Prez hired an assistant."

Min Yoongi very slowly looks up from his computer screen, gaze wary. "Good morning to you too, Jeon. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

Jungkook ignores the man’s sarcasm and instead drops into one of the couches placed on one side of his office, groaning. “It’s a guy.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Head whipping up faster than the blink of an eye, Jungkook gapes at your Creative Director. “You have heard?”

Yoongi gives him a tired look. “My office is on the same floor as hers, Jeon. I have more than just heard.”

“Have you seen the guy?” he quickly rushes out, wide eyes boring into Yoongi’s disinterested ones.

“Met him. Kid’s jovial and efficient. She’s gonna love him.”

What? Jungkook stalks up to Yoongi’s table with a scowl. “Kid?”

“Oh, he’s probably older than you.”

“Jovial?”

“Yeah, always got a smile on his face; not a word out of his mouth without giggles.”

Giggles? Jungkook's pinky finger twitches in irritation because giggling is supposed to be his thing. How dare you.

“And he's really freaking efficient too, man." Yoongi continues when Jungkook has stayed quiet for too long. "He's got a typing speed of 96 wpm, can speak five languages, is capable of charming every guest with a grin and some sweet words—oh! And he’s quick on his feet! Delivered five coffees on two different floors with the steam still coming out of the cups.” Yoongi has a fond, dreamy look on his face, and if it wasn’t for the wedding band on his finger, Jungkook would have assumed the guy has fallen in love with your new assistant.

Which doesn’t sit well with Jungkook at all. Teeth gritted and fists clenched, he gazes out of the glass doors of Yoongi’s office to yours.

You aren’t in, yet. Should he pay your oh-so-wonderful assistant a visit before you are?

You’d surely have his head if you catch him threatening the dude – not that he plans on it; he just feels like he might – but it’s a risk he is very much willing to take.

And so, over Yoongi’s protests, Jungkook marches out of the guy’s office and, crossing the long corridor, lands at yours.

There’s an additional table placed perpendicular to yours within the glass cabin and Jungkook wishes he had laser vision so he could incinerate the damn thing in its place. He looks around the office for the guy of the hour, grunting at the small trinkets he finds adorning the new table.

Who keeps a freaking potted plant on a desk? What if it fell off and died?

Jungkook doubts this guy is as efficient as Yoongi talked about him being. He chokes in the middle of the accompanying scoff, though, because his eyes suddenly locate, well, keys.

Sleek, black, no bigger than a matchbox, with a silver, galloping horse engraved on the obviously custom made leather surface. Keys to a Ferrari. What are the odds?

“Ma’am, you’re in earl—oh…”

Jungkook twists on heels at the voice, coming face to face with a guy that honestly doesn’t look much older than him despite what Yoongi said. His eyes are wide and lips rounded, brown hair brushed off his forehead to display the perfect arch to his thick eyebrows. He wears a – Jungkook hates to admit – gorgeously tailored dark brown suit that Jungkook knows to be Armani because he just made the same purchase a week back.

The guy, simply put, doesn't look assistant-material at all. He could be on Vogue's cover with those plump lips and shapely eyes of his. Or perhaps pose for swimsuit commercials with that bubble butt. Or walk the ramp for Armani, Patek Philippe or Chanel, given the brands Jungkook can spot on him.

But he isn't in any of those places – he is here, in your office, as your assistant.

“Good morning, sir!” he suddenly exclaims, and here’s the jollity Yoongi talked about. “You must be Mr. Jeon, the CEO?”

Jungkook gives him a jilted nod, hating the flawless mannerism the guy displays and the accompanying subconscious twitch his lips give in response, and inches back towards the door. “Um, yeah… I was just leaving…”

Your assistant’s smile falls and a concerned look overtakes his face. “But you just got here?”

And something about the innocent pout with which he looks at Jungkook has him rooted to the place. In wonder? Confusion? Shock?

Awe?

He can't freaking tell.

“I can get you some coffee, if you’d like? Everyone’s been telling me I brew a killer espresso!” He flashes a proud smile while Jungkook just helplessly gapes. “I can also get you some snacks? Sandwiches? Cookies? Ooh, would you like some pastries? Our office canteen has some amazing Danishes, would you like one? Ah, your forehead is all misty. Here!”

Before Jungkook can react, the guy is in his face with a tissue, dabbing the sweat away from Jungkook’s arched eyebrows. His smile is blinding, dear God, Jungkook cannot articulate a single word out of the storming confusion in his head. Since when do men have such pouty lips?

When he steps back, he immediately gestures to a couch. “Make yourself comfortable, sir! May I lower the temperature? You still haven’t said what you need.”

Finally, finally able to collect his thoughts, Jungkook releases a long exhale.

Who the actual fuck is this guy? A witch? A siren?

Jungkook needs to get out of here and he needs to talk to you.

“Uh, no, thank you, none of that. I, um, I’m good.” Quickly flashing the guy a tight lipped smile, Jungkook slips out of the doors. “I came to see Prez, but she's obviously not here, so… I’ll – I'llcome back later. Good day.”

Even as Jungkook immediately storms out of the office and rushes to the elevators to hurry back to his own floor, your assistant calls out a very happy sounding, “You have the best day, sir!”

Well-mannered, fashionable, charming in a very alarming way. Dude literally had him gaping for a whole minute with his head pretty damn empty. Jungkook's head is never empty.

This guy is so weird and… dangerous. Where did you find him?

And, in fact, why did he come here?

The guy's obviously rich, given all the brands he wears like second skin, so why the heck does he want to work as your assistant? In the same office as you?

Jungkook roughly swallows as the images he conjured last night make a return to his head – this time, with your assistant’s regrettably very handsome face on the previously faceless guy you were making out with.

He wants to punch a wall.

What he does, instead, is shoot off a text to his secretary, telling her he isn’t feeling well and is going back home. And then another one to you, asking you to pay him a visit tonight. And possibly stay the night because he bought some extra alcohol.

He hasn’t, but the first stop he makes after leaving the office will be to pick up some expensive red wine.

Everytime Jungkook pulls out of you, spent and sweaty and satisfied, after the deed is done, he is left in disbelief. Every single time. Is this really happening? Are you really sleeping with him? Do you actually feel attracted to his body?

He is smart enough to not delude himself into thinking there's more to it, but it doesn't matter because whatever there is between you both is enough to astound him every time the two of you have sex.

Right now, as you sit with your back to him, pulling on his t-shirt over your bare frame – Jungkook's mind is caught onto something a little different than his usual daze of disbelief, though.

And even though he’s risking it by questioning the ‘why’ despite his secretary’s warnings, Jungkook can’t help it when he brings it up. "So… Hiring an assistant. Why so suddenly?"

You hum and give a noncommittal shrug. "I can't be in the office all the time. It's high time I hired one, don’t you think?"

Jungkook doesn’t think so. But he’d definitely be dead meat if he said it out loud. “Sure… What tasks will you give him?”

That earns him a confused look from you over your shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me something, Jeon?”

Wide-eyed, he gapes at you. “What?”

“Did something happen with Haeri? Is that why—”

“Oh, no,” he exhales, beyond relieved, then shakes his head with a smile when you continue to eye him suspiciously. “I just… Well. I’m always making Haeri pick up after me as if she’s a babysitter and not an office worker, you know? So I thought I could use some tips from you…”

You nod at that, turning back around to pull on your panties, and Jungkook breathes easier. He has sold his lie and you’ve bought it. “That’s actually thoughtful and mature of you. Where was this maturity when you had me running after you, though?” you grumble with a playful glare, and he just laughs.

“It is because of all of that that I’ve finally learnt to be mature, Prez.”

Straightening after having covered your lower half, you inch back on the bed and rest your back against the headboard. “Well. To be fair, he has been running around for tiny errands for the two days he’s been here, so I can’t really lecture you, right now,” you admit. “But I wanted someone in the office for the meetings-season that is about to arrive as we near the launch, you know? Both you and I will be busy with the project. Poor Yoongi will need all the help he can get.”

Jungkook frowns. “Why doesn’t Yoongi hire an assistant then?”

You snort at that and gesture to the bottle of wine on the nightstand. “Why’re you pressed about it? You said you need tips, right?”

“Ah, yes, of course. I just want some tips.” Quickly catching his slip, Jungkook pours you a glass and settles next to you, bare, with the covers thrown across his lap for modesty. “So… will he be accompanying you to meetings, then? Or fill in for you while you’re busy with other stuff?”

“Well, initially he will shadow me for a week or so. And then when I get busy overseeing the launch event and coordinating with the Lims and other investors, he can switch between locations around the city to ensure everything is in order because Yoongi can’t be doing everything, you know?” You take a sip from your glass of wine and shrug a shoulder. “He’s our Creative Director, he needs to hold the fort while everyone runs around like headless chickens.”

Jungkook sips at his wine and musters a thin smile. Because yes, it definitely makes sense why you needed to hire an assistant. Speaking of, Yoongi probably needs one as well.

Damn, when he used to work as a Software Analyst at a different company, he had no idea the executives of a company had so much to do. It always looks like an easy life looking in from the outside. But as CEO, he has come to learn that if someone in a higher up position makes a mistake, they initiate a dominoes’ fall all the way down.

“You met him, didn’t you?”

His surprised eyes fly to yours at the question. You’re looking at him with a smirk, and Jungkook’s heart gives a thump at how sexy you look. Your question, though, throws him off. "I… How did you—”

You roll your eyes. “He told me you came in to see me and then left. I checked in with Haeri and she said you weren’t feeling well.”

Wow. They both snitched on him. Just great.

And now you're looking at him with barely contained laughter as if you know how jealous he feels. Who is he kidding, of course you know how jealous he feels. You always know this kind of stuff, ugh.

“Don’t be getting insecure, Jeon, my assistant will remain only an assistant.”

He doesn’t know why you say that, but he appreciates it all the same. The twinkle in your eyes expresses playful adoration and the way it makes his heart race kinda scares him.

But then you lean in with an exaggerated kissy face to press a wet smooch on his mouth. When you pull away, he looks at you with a slight pout on his lips. You tilt your head to the side with a squint.

"What?"

"It's… Why did you pick the Ferrari guy?" Jungkook sounds a little whiny, but he can't help it.

You look at him over the rim of your glass, eyebrows nearing your hairline, amusement spilling from your gaze. "Uh, what's wrong with the Ferrari guy?"

"Nothing, of course, that's not what I meant," he tries to amend with a chuckle, but given the way you narrow your eyes at him before putting your glass away to cross your arms, you probably don't buy it. So he speaks on. "It's just that he doesn't look like an assistant, you know?"

"I… don’t actually. What does an assistant look like?"

Are you being purposely difficult or is Jungkook being completely weird? He's not exactly sure how to explain it better, but he's definitely sure that any other way would have been better than what comes out of his mouth next. "I mean, a bit… less… flirty, I guess?"

"What? What the hell did he do to you?"

He groans at your excited expressions. "Dude had me gaping at him for fifteen minutes while he talked about God knows what, because I couldn't focus on his words! I don't even like men like that!"

You give a loud snort and then break into loud peals of laughter. "Well, Jungkook, maybe you do! Maybe you just haven't had your awakening yet!"

"Not funny," he grunts, even as a humored smile slips on to his face at your loud giggles. "What did you say his name was, again?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I didn't."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, my dear Prez, what is your new assistant's name?"

"Park Jimin." Your smile turns goofy and eyes almost dreamy. "Pretty name for a pretty man. Right?"

He rolls his eyes at your suggestive wink, grumbling as he finishes his glass of wine in a large gulp.

You give a small sigh. "He's a nice guy, give him a chance. Heart of gold, or whatever they say."

Jungkook decides that he, for reasons way beyond his supposed homoerotic awakening, absolutely hates Park Jimin's guts. He's going to convince you to fire him. And soon.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x you #w: tfg #*mine: fic

1K notes · View notes

shuafiles · 4 months ago

Text

roses [j.jh]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | think i should text my ex (fwb)? what happens when jaehyun sees his ex-fwb with another guy?

PAIRING | ex fwb!jaehyun x afab!reader (with reader x jungwoo)

CONTENT | ex fwb to ?, college!au, unprotected sex (on pills), oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, creampie. (probably more that i missed but its just smut)

WORDS | 4.3k

A/N | im so bad at giving summaries but it’s basically roses by jaehyun :D not proofread

you knew how to get under jaehyun’s skin. well, not on purpose, but he sure as hell was sending daggers in your direction as he saw you all cozied up with a tall blond-haired guy at his frat party. jaehyun scoffed as he took a sip out of the red cup in his hand. how dare you bring a boy into his house in the first place.

jaehyun’s gaze never left you as you laughed at something the french fry guy said. “bet it’s not even funny.” he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes as you placed your hand on the guy’s arm.

“dude, what is the matter with you?” mark pulled him out of his trance, hitting him lightly on the arm. his best friend followed his gaze and smirked when he figured out what he was so worked up about. “isn’t that y/n? didn’t you use to date her?”

“we did not date.” jaehyun moved his sight to glare at the younger boy instead. “i could care less about her.”

“couldn’t.” mark corrected him with a cheeky smile, “but you already knew that, so i’m guessing you do care a tiny bit.”

you and jaehyun met at university when you were freshmen. you accidentally walked into the wrong room at your first college party when a certain someone was changing out his clothes and flashed you with his penis on your first week. you screamed and ran as fast as you could. moments later, mystery penis guy found you amidst the crowd and apologized profoundly, which left you confused because you were so sure you should be the one apologizing. nonetheless, you both decided to put it behind you and start fresh.

“jaehyun.” mystery penis guy introduced himself to you while handing you a red cup that was most likely filled with booze.

“y/n.” you accepted his cup, inspecting it. “you’re not trying to drug me because i saw your dick, right?”

jaehyun laughed, and you smiled as he shook his head. that was the beginning of a new friendship.

until during your sophomore year, you were drunk crying over your ex, and you had jaehyun over because you needed a friend. he was awkwardly trying to pat your back while trying to keep a distance between the two of you. don’t get him wrong, he found you attractive as fuck, and he would fuck you the moment you let him. but he was somehow scared to ruin the year-long friendship between the two of you, so he never acted on what his dick and heart told him to.

this night was different, though; you were vulnerable and needed to feel better about yourself. “he said i couldn’t suck dick properly!” you whined, which made jaehyun freeze. “who breaks up with someone over that!”

jaehyun had to fight every bone in his body not to jump on you and kiss the living hell out of you. he felt apologetic that you were crying over a dumbass, but he couldn’t help but find you cute. your cheeks flushed, makeup messy with tears. you looked perfect. “i think that’s what they call an ick.” he tried lightening up the mood, but this just made you glare at him.

“i’ll bite your dick off.” you punched his arm, which did little to no damage.

“ouch, is that what you did while you were sucking his?” he rubbed his arm, but had the biggest smile on his face.

“you’re not helping!” you covered your face with your hands.

jaehyun didn’t know what possessed him then; he spoke without thinking about his words. “i could teach you a thing or two about giving…” he immediately regretted what he was offering. he coughed before ending his sentence, looking everywhere around the room but at you. he let his dick do the talking as if you were stupid enough to agree–

“teach me.”

needless to say, you knew how to suck dick (even a few pointers on how to kiss and fuck) that night.

jaehyun tried to pull his eyes away from you as you whispered something in the guy’s ear before disappearing into the crowd and heading upstairs. now he was frustrated. you ended your year-long arrangement just merely two weeks ago, and you have already found someone new? you just moved on and had enough. god, he sounded so pathetic; he got it bad.

you lay in bed that night, chewing on your lip as you scrolled through your phone. you just left the party an hour ago after sleeping with another man. you felt weird. like what you did was wrong, but you couldn’t exactly point out why.

as if the universe decided to play tricks on you, your phone vibrated in your hand. the contact “PLS DONT ANSWER” on full display. you glanced at the time to see it was 2 am. you ran your fingers through your hair and sighed. closing your eyes, your finger swiped to answer the call.

“you answered?” his voice echoing through the phone, surprised you picked up the phone.

“don’t make me regret it.”

“i saw you today.”

“… okay?” you knew he saw you. in fact, you made sure he saw you with jungwoo, aka the guy you fucked an hour ago.

“with another guy.” mission success. you were being petty, but you were doing it for a reason (so you convinced yourself).

the very reason you broke off your arrangement with jaehyun was because you saw him with another girl’s tongue down his throat in a not-very-discrete section in the library two weeks ago. you could tell he enjoyed it by the way his hands were firmly gripping her ass. the sight made you sick to your stomach.

your agreement was strictly for physical reasons — you fucked, nothing more and nothing less. you were good friends who were having fantastic sex.

you don't know why the thought of him sleeping with other girls upset you. you both agreed to keep it physical. no strings attached, especially since you're both juniors and have to focus on finishing your degrees. yet why did it bother you he was out kissing girls?

“congrats, you can see.” you cringed at your attempt to seem like a cool girl.

“cut the bullshit, y/n.” jaehyun rolled his eyes even though you couldn’t see him. “you broke up with me, then you slept with somebody else just two weeks after?”

“i wasn’t aware we had a relationship that even allowed us to break up.” you opened your eyes. realizing how long you last talked to jaehyun, you hated to admit that you missed the sound of his voice.

“called it off, ghosted—whatever you call it! you know what i mean.”

“i did not ghost you.” practically mumbling against the phone.

“a text saying “let's stop this” is not an explanation, y/n. plus, that's besides that point!”

“i really don't want to talk about this right now, jaehyun.”

“fine. meet me tomorrow at the café you like at 2 pm.” and with that, he hung up on you.

jaehyun sat in an easy-to-spot area at the café you loved. how did he know? because you used to have little study dates in this very coffee shop (if you could even call it a date). his heart was beating out of his chest. he didn’t know why his heart was beating so fast while he anticipated your presence. maybe he drank too much caffeine? he shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. he wanted to believe that was the reason why he could not sit still.

the tiny bell at the front door rang, indicating a new customer. the sound made jaehyun whip his head up. there you were. a brown coat hugging your body, your hair in one of those clamps that held it up neatly. you were in the most basic clothes, yet you looked so beautiful. jaehyun smiled at the sight of you until he saw a dozen roses you had in your hands, the smile was replaced with a slight frown.

“hi, jae.” you breathed out, taking a seat on the empty spot in front of him. placing your belongings on the table, which included the bouquet that jaehyun was glaring at.

“aww, y/n, you didn’t have to.” jaehyun took the bouquet from the table to inspect it, trying to catch a glimpse of a card with the sender's name on it.

“shut up.” you mumbled, snatching it from him. cheeks heating up, you avoided his gaze.

“i’m assuming it's from lover boy last night?” jaehyun huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. he looked absolutely silly right now.

“it’s none of your business.” you fought back. leaning against your seat, “why’d you want to see me anyway?”

“i didn’t.” he lied through his teeth, but you didn’t know that. “i just think i deserve some kind of explanation as to why our,” he paused to think how he would label your relationship, “friendship ended.”

“you’re so annoying.” glaring at him, you contemplated why you even showed up in the first place.

“you love me.” he grinned at you, flashing his damned dimples, to which you let out a snort. “was he better than me?”

“very much.” you smiled as he lost his grin. “bigger too.”

“we’re telling lies now?” jaehyun raised his eyebrow. “you said your shit ex had a big dick, too, so i don't really trust your judgment.” you chewed your lip in annoyance, wanting to slap his irritatingly beautiful face.

“asshole.”

it had been a week since your last interaction with jaehyun. your little café meet-up didn’t lead to anything as you still refused to tell him why you no longer wanted to see him. you would be lying if you said you had not thought of him at all. you missed him.

in the midst of doing your university work, your phone buzzed, a text message popping up on the screen.

PLS DONT ANSWER: are u awake

you stared at the message, with no intention of replying.

PLS DONT ANSWER: busy fucking french fry boy?

PLS DONT ANSWER: what position he got u in

you rolled your eyes at his last message. truth be told, jungwoo gave you the flowers as an apology. he apologized for sleeping with you that day, telling you how he was drunk and not over his ex, and he hoped that you would not take it the wrong way. you felt incredibly stupid and annoyed at how even in your attempt to forget jaehyun, you still failed.

the phone rang a few seconds later, but this time, you didn’t pick up. not knowing what to say to him. missing the call, he didn’t send anything after, making your heart sink.

you knew what you signed up for when you agreed to keep things physical between the two of you. although there were moments when it would seem like you two were a couple, you knew he would never like you like that. he was jeong fucking jaehyun for fucks sake. he could have any girl he looked at if he wanted to. you hear how women talk about him in the bathrooms, most of them very lewd. everyone wanted a taste of him. you couldn't blame them, even after having a taste of him, you still craved and came back for more.

a knock on your apartment door pulled you out of your trance. curious, you stood up to open it. there at your door was one very soaked jaehyun with a flower–that looked like it was picked out of a bush–in hand. his white shirt sticking to his chest, giving you a very slight peek of his toned body which gave you flashbacks to the nights you would spend together.

“jaehyun,” raising a brow, “why are you soaking wet?” you were sure there was not any weather forecast about rain tonight.

“it was raining and–” jaehyun let out, catching his breath, “wanted to see you.” pushing what looked like a rose in your direction. “here.”

eyeing the rose, you carefully scanned his face as you took it from his hand. you stepped aside to let him in your apartment. he stepped inside, careful of spreading rainwater all over your place. “stay here, i’ll get you something dry.” turning away from him, you walked towards your bedroom with your thoughts all over the place. why was he here? what was this rose about? and why did he look so fucking hot?

with a clean sweatshirt (that you were pretty sure was his) in hand, you walked back into the living room where you were greeted by jaehyun’s bare back faced to you as he looked at the pictures you had hung around. you bit your lip at the sight. feeling sparks shoot throughout your body.

you cleared your throat, which made jaehyun spin around to face you, shooting you a smile. you extended your arm to hand him the sweater, but he grabbed your arm instead and pulled your body against his. he was hugging you. you froze in place as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, feeling him inhale against your skin.

“missed you.” feeling him mumble against your skin, “it was killing me knowing there’s someone out there buying you roses.”

“jaehyun, are you drunk?” placing your hands against his bare chest to push him away and look him in the eyes.

he shook his head, “i’m not. i’m serious, y/n.” he took a step closer to you, “why do you not want me anymore?” his breath fanning on you, lips dangerously close to yours, making you feel hazy.

“you know that’s not true.” your voice was so tiny he barely heard what you said. his hands landed on your waist, rubbing on it softly.

“tell me what i did wrong, please.” his voice soft.

“jaehyun..” you warned, feeling him close the gap between the two of you, to which you shut your eyes as you waited for the soft feeling of his lips. but it never came, so you opened your eyes to see him staring at you with a teasing smile on his lips. you glared at him, scoffing. you pushed him away, chucking the sweater at him before retreating and heading to your bedroom.

you heard him call out for you. feeling your cheeks burn from embarrassment. you were about to slam the door behind you, but his strength prevented you from doing so.

“go home, jaehyun.” you sternly said, wanting to bury yourself under the covers. you walked towards the bed, sitting on the edge.

“if you wanted a kiss that bad, you could have just asked.” jaehyun welcomed himself into your room. standing a few feet away from you, this time with the sweater you gave him on your body. he has been in your room plenty of times, so he has grown very familiar with where you keep everything.

“maybe i’ll ask jungwoo instead.” lie. but he doesn’t know that. crossing your arms against your chest. not missing the way his eyes fell on your exposed chest. you were wearing a tiny tank top and lounge shorts since you were just planning on studying all night.

“not fucking funny.” he walked over to you, stopping in between your legs before cupping your face with his hand. “maybe i should remind you who you belong to.” his words making you dizzy.

“i don’t belong to anyone.” you reminded him which made his eyes turn dark; he licked his lips, scanning your face. a sadistic grin forming on his face. he could tell you were trying to convince yourself of what you said, too.

“i thought you were supposed to be smart, princess.” he said, leaning down and planting his lips on yours. the kiss was hungry with the intention of reminding you of what you have been missing. you reciprocated his passion, arms flying to wrap around his neck. his tongue glided over your bottom lip before pushing it into your mouth, exploring your mouth, making you moan lightly. his other hand sneaked down to your clothed core and cupped it, which made you gasp and pull away from the kiss. “look at you, already so wet, and i haven’t even done anything.”

“yeah, and if you don’t do anything about it soon, you know who i’ll call.” teasing him, but he wasn’t having any of it. he grabbed you by your thighs, which you instinctively wrapped around his waist. he laid you down on the bed, your head against your pillows. in a swift motion, your shirt and shorts were pulled away from your body and discarded somewhere in the room.

“I can’t believe you let that asshole touch what’s mine.” jaehyun groaned once he took in the mouthwatering sight in front of him. his intense gaze made you lose all your tough facade, wanting nothing more than to be engulfed by him. he climbed in between your legs, leaning down to kiss you once again, but this time, it was more passion than hunger, savoring your taste.

“i’m not yours.” you whispered against his lips, and you could tell he had enough of your teasing.

“i’ll make you want to be mine.” kissing your jaw, leading down to your neck (making sure to suck on the spot he knew you loved), your chest before engulfing your nipple with his mouth. you whimpered as he sucked on the sensitive bud, his other hand circling the other nub with his thumb and index finger. his tongue exploring every inch of your tits, making you squirm under his touch. your hand flew up to his hair, lightly tugging on it, feeling the slickness from the rain. he pulled away from your chest after flicking his tongue against your nipple one last time. he sat up, grabbing the hem of his sweater and pulling it off him.

you bit your lip at the sight of his toned chest that you absolutely loved. you loved that he took care of himself in every way, especially his body. catching your gaze, he smirked. he, too, loved his own body.

jaehyun pressed a quick kiss on your lips before he went down on your body. your pussy in his face, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pressing soft wet kisses against your skin. “god, you smell fucking amazing.”

“jaehyun.” you cried out as he licked your wet folds. your hips thrusting, trying to get more, but his arms held you down. pressing a tiny kiss on your clit, his tongue darted out, licking your entrance, lapping around the area. moans spilling from your lips as he fucked you with his tongue. his hand sneaking around to rub your clit, which made you curse his name. “oh my god!” arching your back at the sudden sensation.

“mine.” jaehyun grunted against your pussy, retracting his arm from your thigh, circling around to glide his fingers up and down your folds. “my pussy.” he said before inserting two fingers into your hole, making you gasp. his fingers easily slide in and out of you due to your wetness. the entire room fills up with the sounds of your pussy squelching as he continued to finger you, curling his fingers ever so often, which drove you insane. he attached his lips to your clit, sucking on the sensitive nerve as he continued the motions with his fingers.

“fuck, jaehyun, i can’t–” you barely got the words out as he inserted a third finger, making you gasp, and grip the sheets beneath you. your legs attempted to close but his grip on it prevented you from doing so. you felt the familiar coil gather in your stomach.

“say it, say you’re mine, then i’ll let you cum.” his breath fanning against you, fastening his pace as he fucks you with his fingers.

“mhm, fuck! i’m yours, jae.” your hips bucked upwards as you felt your orgasm coming. “please, let me cum.”

“see, was that so hard?” jaehyun rubbed your clit with his thumb, pushing you over the edge. you screamed out his name, body trembling as you came hard on his fingers. the sight of you arching your back went directly to his dick, hardening against his pants. he pulled his fingers out easily, covered in your cum. he sat up, bringing his fingers to his mouth. “so sweet, so pretty.” licking his creamy fingers clean.

chest heaving as you tried to recover from your high. you met jaehyun’s gaze, seeing him already staring at you. your eyes darted down, seeing his cock begging to be free from his jeans. arm extending, you palmed him through his jeans, hips bucking to meet your touch. “take it off.”

“eager to finally get good dick?” jaehyun smirked, undoing the buttons of his pants.

“get out.”

“taking my pants off right now.” he slid out of his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and bouncing off his stomach. your mouth watering at the sight. your hand reached out to grab his shaft, pumping it before gliding your fingers over the slit, spreading the precum that was leaking out. “fuck, baby.” he moaned, rutting his hips to meet your hand. “you look so good holding my cock.”

“i’d look even better when you finally fuck me with it.” frustration crept up your voice which made him chuckle. he grabbed hold of your hand, holding your wrists above your head while his other hand guided his cock towards your entrance.

“no one will fuck you as good as i do.” ramming his cock into you without warning. the sudden contact made you yelp, wanting to grab hold of him, but his grip on your wrist prevented your movement. “what a dirty little slut. remember, this fucking pussy is mine.” his thrusts were intense, his words laced with venom as he relentlessly fucked your cunt. you could barely let out your words as your breath kept getting knocked out of you.

“o-oh god, jae.” jaehyun was absolutely losing it at the sight of you crumbling beneath him. the pretty noises that were coming out of your mouth were like music to him. sweat trickled down your body as he increased his pace. he let go of your wrists, and your hands flew to grip his shoulders. he grabbed your thighs, pushing them close to your chest. his cock perfectly hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

“you feel so fucking good.” his hands reached out to pinch your nipples, making you curse out his name. “you take my cock so fucking well.” you rolled your hips out to meet his pace, leggings shaking from him as he hit all the right spots. your reactions were fueling him even more; he pulled his cock out entirely before slamming it back into your pussy. he gripped your waist as your back arched from the intense sensation, moans getting louder. “you like that, huh? remember who owns you, pretty girl. not that fucking jungwoo, me.”

tears sprang to your eyes from the immense pleasure. not being able to speak coherently, you nodded at his words. nails digging into his shoulder blades as you felt your second orgasm forming in your abdomen. he leaned down, burying his head in your neck, placing kisses on your skin as he continued to rock his hips into you. “i’m so close.” you managed to moan out, legs wrapping around his waist, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

“shit,” jaehyun pulled away from your neck, watching as your tits bounce from his trust, his hand snaked up your clit, rubbing it which built up the pressure in your stomach even more. “cum for me, baby.” his thrusts getting sloppy as he felt his own orgasm creep up.

“oh my god!” you cried out as your insides exploded from pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock as you came.

the feeling of your pussy tightening around his cock brought his orgasm out. his warm cum leaking inside you. “so fucking beautiful.” he groaned, pulling his cock out. your mixed cum spilling out of you. he collapsed beside you.

breaths heavy, you closed your eyelids, wanting to doze off for the night, feeling jaehyun’s arms wrap around you. peeking at him, but his eyes were already trained on you.

“hi.” you whispered.

“be mine.” he mumbled, pulling your body close to him.

“what?” looking at him in disbelief.

“be mine, y/n, be my girlfriend.” he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. you knew jaehyun was not one to do relationships. this was one of the reasons why you agreed to keep it physical in the first place. hearing the word girlfriend from his mouth was indeed a new experience, especially since he was saying it to you.

“is my pussy that good?” you giggled.

“yes.” he placed a kiss on your forehead, “and i want to be yours. only yours, and i want you to only be mine.”

“will you stop making out with other girls in the library if i say yes?”

“in the libra–? is that why you left!” he looked at you in shock, “i’m so sorry, i didn’t know you saw that. i promise you she meant nothing to me. i don’t even know her name.”

“wow, that makes me feel so better.” sarcasm rolling off your tongue.

“what about you and that blond bitch! who does he think he is giving you flowers. i fucking hate him.” he sulked, making you snort and laugh. “not funny. i cried, true story.”

so you explained to him what the reason behind the flowers was. his cocky ass got even more cocky when you admitted that it was your attempt to forget him. but you had the last laugh when you found out that even his friends could see that he was miserable without you. you eventually did give him an answer to his previous question, you indeed wanted to be his.

#jeong jaehyun #nct 127 #nct #jung jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #nct imagines #jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #kim jungwoo #mark lee

2K notes · View notes

elix8r · 5 months ago

Text

Prada Shoes and I Love Yous

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, angst, crack, (some?) fluff, college!au, exes to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au, socialite/richkid!au

SUMMARY: Life as a socialite wasn’t all champagnes and designer labels, especially not with the turn your reputation took due to a simple misunderstanding. Now, you were being painted by everyone as a big fat cheater who shattered her sweet boyfriend’s heart—a narrative that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, it was him who had betrayed your trust. Frustrated and feeling deeply wronged, you returned to society and the new school year after a summer of cutting off contact with everyone and the drama. But just when you thought you were ready to face the world again, you were blindsided by something unexpected: the lingering effect Heeseung had on you. And who could blame you? Heeseung was way too hot for you to get over in just three short months and now, seeing him with the girl he once told you not to worry about all over him? Oh, it was on.

You refused to be replaced, labeled as a crazy ex, or forgotten. No, you were going to make Lee Heeseung realize that you were the best motherfucking thing to had ever happened to him.

WC: 21.4k

WARNINGS: some extent of emotionally cheating? (not actual cheating i swear it’s kinda unintentional), jake is a bestie and fwb hybrid (kinda flirty but it’s very much platonic i swear), so much miscommunication, profanity, drinking, drugs, physical altercation, mentions of puke, slut shaming, mentions of pregnancy (no one is actually pregnant), toxic relationship, roughdom!heeseung and sub!y/n, unprotected sex, oral (m recieving), rough sex, unprepped? sex (consensual), creampie, mirror sex, deepthroating, cowgirl, dick too big?, creampie, and i am so sorry but karina is a BITCH like it’s almost campy how villainess she comes off

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hope everyone has fun with this one!! had a lot of fun writing it like and i'd love to hear you guys' feedback! love you lots <3 ☺️

Fuck Lee Heeseung. Fuck Lee Heeseung. Fuck Lee Heeseung.

This was all you found yourself repeating in your mind like it was some mantra while you reapplied your lip gloss, making sure to take one last good look at yourself in the mirror before shutting it close once you felt the plane’s wheels coming to a stop. From the outside, you looked absolutely perfect as not a single hair could be found out of place; no one would’ve guessed that you had been on a plane for over 10 hours. But inside, you were a wreck as you felt your anxiety shooting up as your heart raced a million beats per minute.

“You need to loosen up, you look like you have a stick up your ass.” Jake was lazily scrolling on his phone while nursing a champagne in his hand, barely sparing a glance at you. He seemed to be in a much more relaxed state than you were.

You scoffed before sending him a glare. “You know, if anything, you should be the one panicking right now. Everyone’s going to be talking about how we came back together.”

“Good thing I don’t give a shit about what people say, right? Should’ve thought that through before inviting me,” Jake shrugged, finally lowering his phone to look at you. His nonchalant attitude was pissing you off. “Plus, this all just looks worse because Ryujin decided she wanted to spend one last week with whatever his name was.”

He wasn’t wrong. It hadn’t just been the two of you in Monaco for three months; Ryujin had also been very much present. However, she found herself a summer fling named Louis, and unlike you and Jake, she couldn’t find herself boarding your private jet without spending one last fiery week with her lover before saying goodbye for good and starting school again.

“Maybe we should have just stayed an extra week with her. It probably would have saved us from the shit show that I know we’re gonna be bombarded with the second we step off the plane.” You released a deep sigh before you started to gather your belongings around you.

Jake followed suit, grabbing his stuff and getting up from his seat. “Well, if we stayed back an extra week, then that would mean we’d have to deal with your mom’s wrath for missing her annual end-of-summer garden party that we promised we wouldn’t miss. You know how important it is for her, and to be honest, I’d rather face Heeseung’s wrath than your mom’s.”

He was right. This garden party of hers had been going on every year since even before you were born, and you’d be out of your mind to miss it. It was single-handedly the most important event every year for your family, and you couldn’t even begin to fathom how your mom would react to your absence.

You reached over and snatched the champagne glass out of his hand before you downed whatever was left in it in one gulp as you braced yourself, hoping the alcohol would give you the courage you needed to step off the plane.

“Well, then I hope you’re prepared to take on Heeseung. Maybe he’ll be nice enough to spare your pretty face. God knows it’s the only thing you have going for you.”

Heeseung was going to fucking kill Jake Sim.

When he woke up this morning, you were the last thing on his mind, something he seemed to have finally freed himself from. However, all the hard work he put into casting you away from his mind seemed to have been in vain, as now all he could think about was you and how you had returned after three months of radio silence with the guy you cheated on him with.

Livid didn’t even cover what he was feeling, and it was evident in the way he swung his club. Each hit seemed to be driven by a surge of pent-up frustration.

“What the hell, man? That’s the third time today you’ve been way off course. What’s going on?” Jay shot him an incredulous look as he tried to locate where the golf ball had landed.

Heeseung let out a frustrated groan as he ripped off his glove and shoved his driver back into his bag. “Y/N’s fucking back.”

That was all Jay needed to hear to understand what was going on with his friend. "Shit, I saw. I’m sorry dude, it’s fucked up."

Heeseung was in no mindset to be playing golf right now. All he wanted was to go back home and wallow miserably in his bed. Unfortunately, they were only on hole ten of eighteen, and judging by his performance today, Heeseung knew it was going to take awhile.

"Did you know?" Heeseung couldn't help but blurt out, his frustration evident in his voice as he watched Jay effortlessly swing a shot miles better than his own.

Confusion flickered across Jay's face as he turned to face his friend. "What do you mean?"

“Did you know that she was coming back with Jake?” Heeseung felt his jaw tense as he mentioned his ex-friend.

“I didn’t even know he was with her until today. Honestly, I thought he’d just fucked off somewhere and didn’t bother telling any of us, considering how things went down. You know me, I would’ve told you straight up if I had found out earlier.” Heeseung trusted Jay implicitly. He was as loyal as they came, but unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for everyone in their friend group.

"Do you think Sunghoon knew?" Heeseung's question elicited an audible groan from Jay.

If anyone in their friend group knew how Jake spent his summer, it would undoubtedly be Sunghoon. However, Sunghoon was notoriously tight-lipped, especially when it came to sensitive matters. Since the breakup, the entire friend group had undergone an incredibly awkward shift. It seemed that everyone had more or less chosen a side, and allegiances were clear.

"You know he wouldn't tell us anything if he did. It's getting ridiculous. The other day, I saw Gaeul and him having brunch or something at the clubhouse, and the moment she spotted me, she practically sprinted over to explain herself. She claimed she's still 'Switzerland' in the whole situation and hasn't chosen a side," Jay recounted, frustration evident in his voice.

Heeseung almost snorted at the absurdity of it all. Their friend group had never been one to keep secrets or tiptoe around each other, but the last few months had been nothing but that. The betrayal by you and Jake had not only affected Heeseung's relationship with you but had also tainted the dynamic of their entire friend group.

“Literally, what is there to be ‘Switzerland’ about? I mean, this whole thing isn’t even complicated. Everyone saw them go into the bathroom together and come out literally holding hands. Trust me, I know what she looks like after giving head, and that's literally what she looked like in that video Beomgyu sent. Plus, Karina literally heard them.” Heeseung angrily got into the golf cart as Jay fished the keys out to start driving.

“Okay, well, no offense, but in all honesty, Karina’s probably not the most reliable source, cause she’s in an extremely biased position, but I guess that’s beside the point.” Jay’s words seemed to instantly bring a frown upon Heeseung’s face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Heeseung’s tone sharply switched up in an almost defensive manner.

Jay, feeling this shift, nervously cleared his throat as he stammered, trying his best not to offend his already sensitive friend regarding an even more fragile situation. “I mean, uh, well. You know…”

“What?” The grip he had on the seat of the golf cart seemed to get tighter as he waited for his friend to elaborate.

“Dude, you can't be serious? You know Karina’s been trying to ride your dick for the past, what, give or take ten years? I mean, we all know that she’s never had a good relationship with Y/N, and I’m pretty sure most of that resentment stemmed from the fact that you’ve always been head over heels for Y/N.” Jay slowly parked the cart and turned off the engine as he explained.

Still not understanding Jay’s point, Heeseung furrowed his brows, shooting his friend another annoyed look before getting out of the golf cart. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dense. I mean, the last couple of months before Y/N cheated on you was the closest you seemed to have gotten with Karina because of that final project that you guys had or whatever. I mean, you were with her more times than you were with your own girlfriend, and knowing Karina, she seems like she could be delusional enough to have maybe taken that as a sign that you were interested in her? I mean, this is all speculation, but I’m just letting you know what we all saw.”

Jay cautiously treaded this topic. Heeseung was his best friend since they were babies, and he would always be on his side, but Karina was never anyone’s favorite with her extremely polarizing personality. He had no allegiance towards her, not to mention that she wasn’t actually even in their friend group and always only ever found lingering around wherever Heeseung was, so it was much easier for Jay to actually see through her. In fact, it seemed that all of their friends could pretty much catch on to Karina’s end goal except Heeseung.

“So you think it’s my fault that Y/N cheated on me?” The air got tense as Heeseung snapped at Jay while snatching his 7-iron out of the bag. “Just because I spent some time doing a stupid fucking school project with Karina doesn’t mean it gives her reason to go and suck off one of my best friends.”

Jay shook his head even before Heeseung was done with his sentence. Heeseung seemed to not be getting the point. “Fuck no, dude, that’s not what I’m saying. Karina has an incentive: you. If she gets rid of Y/N, then it means you’re up for grabs. Of course, Karina didn’t force Y/N to get on her knees for Sim, but she was the first one to come running, telling us what happened even before Beomgyu sent that video.” Heeseung was trying hard to focus on trying to get his ball on the green as he geared up to swing while listening to Jay.

“So you don’t think she should’ve warned me of what she heard?” He swung precisely, but it seemed that this whole course, to be precise, wasn’t going easy on him. He’d be lucky to get even a double bogey on the par-4.

Jay slightly grimaced at Heeseung’s shot. “No, it’s not that,” he let out a sigh as he walked over to Heeseung. “Look, you’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I know the past few months have been fucking hard because of what Y/N put you through, and I just want you to be careful. Karina’s always been kind of a conniving, spoiled bitch who finds a way to get what she wants. Just because she’s been warming your bed every night since Y/N fell off the fucking Earth doesn’t mean she should be someone you start trusting.”

There was nothing he could say back to his friend’s words and it seemed that what Jay had said clung on deep to Heeseung's thoughts throughout the day, casting a lingering shadow and leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mind.

A small bead of sweat trickled down your back as the sun's relentless heat beat down on you. You took a small sip from your now lukewarm glass of champagne, its warmth doing little to refresh you. Today felt even hotter than previous years, and once again, you found yourself questioning why your mother insisted on hosting her most important event during the hottest month of the year.

Your cheeks were hurting from all the forced smiles you’d already given to family friends and important figures in your mother’s business circle. This garden party was always about promoting her upcoming collection and ensuring the continued support, financial and otherwise (not that she needed any more money), of both new and old acquaintances and partners. So, as always, it was no surprise that you were dressed head to toe in unveiled pieces from your mother’s upcoming collection. While no one could deny her incredible eye for fashion and the breathtaking quality of her creations, the white-tiered tulle dress with its plunging neckline felt entirely too inappropriate for a garden party and was getting on your last nerve. You stood out like a peacock—a testament to your mother’s outstanding handiwork—but you weren't a fan of the attention it drew.

“I need to get out of this fucking dress,” you muttered through gritted teeth, your annoyance palpable.

Jake chuckled softly beside you. “I can think of a few ways to get you out of that.”

You shot him a sharp look, clearly unimpressed by his insinuation. “Don’t say shit like that, especially around everyone. It’s not funny.”

“What? No one's around to hear, and even if they did, it wouldn’t matter. Everyone already thinks we’re fucking, and to be fair, they’re not that off.” He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips.

Without hesitation, you elbowed him hard in the ribs, your face growing even more pissed off. “That’s not funny, Jake. Seriously, shut up. It happened only a couple of times and that’s it. If anyone hears that, they’re actually going to think I cheated on Heeseung with you.”

Your pretty face sported a cold, serious expression, leaving no doubt about how much this mattered to you.

“Honey, I told you, they already think you cheated on Heeseung with me, so this isn’t going to change anything. Besides, you know damn well it wasn’t just a couple of times,” Jake rolled his eyes at your dramatics.

“Yeah, well, the difference is that every time I slept with you was when I wasn’t dating him, so I didn’t actually cheat. You’re just making everything worse by making it seem like you’re confirming what they already assume.” Your irritation was through the roof, and the heat was doing nothing to quell your annoyance.

Before Jake could say anything else, your mother’s saccharine voice filled the space. For once, you were grateful for her impeccable timing. “Oh, darling, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

The event’s dress code was always an all-white affair, but even then, your mother seemed to shine brighter than any of the guests. You were almost taken aback when you fully turned to face her. “Hey, Mom.”

You flashed her a tight smile, but she barely spared you a glance, her attention focused entirely on the figure next to you. Jake seemed to stiffen under your mother’s gaze. “Hello, Jake. You seem to be enjoying yourself,” she said, giving his attire a quick once-over and humming in approval. “You look quite nice. Brioni, I’m assuming?”

“Yes, as usual, the event is beautiful Mrs. L/N. You’ve definitely outdone yourself,” he nervously chuckled. Despite his attempts at flattery, your mother’s cold gaze remained fixed on him. “And you’re right, it is a custom piece from Brioni.”

“Unsurprising, seeing that your father is rarely seen in anything else. Perhaps you could enlighten him to broaden his wardrobe, and maybe we can see about getting you a custom piece of mine. I have no doubt the materials I use are incomparable to much of what’s in your wardrobe already. Though, I’m sure you already know that, since it seems much of your time these days is spent taking my beautiful pieces off my daughter.”

“Mom!” You gasped loudly, your eyes widening in disbelief at her bold statement. Your mother was never one to hold back her words, but this was beyond her usual antics. Next to you, Jake stiffened even more, nervously trying to regain his composure.

"Uh, Mrs. Y/LN, I can assure you that whatever you think is happening between me and your daughter is not actually true," Jake stammered, his voice strained with tension.

Your mother clicked her tongue in annoyance, obviously not buying his claims. "Well, the conversation I overheard the two of you having before I came seemed to say something different."

“Mom, can we not do this here?” You darted your eyes around, making sure that no one else was catching on to what was happening.

“Well, darling, I would usually never impose myself like this in your personal relationships, but it seems like the two of you have brought not only our families into this but now also my business as collateral just for the sake of some mindless fucking.”

You had never heard your mother speak with such scandalous vocabulary before. Seeing her like this was beyond unsettling and left you utterly speechless.

“Ma’am, I assure you that the rumors about our infidelity are not true at all. It’s been a huge misunderstanding that—"

"Jake, I've always held you in high regard, ever since you were a baby raised alongside my daughter. You've grown into a very smart and handsome young man, one your parents should be proud of. Out of respect for your mother, who you know is one of my closest and longest friends, I've tried to overlook what's been happening over the past few months. However, overhearing the two of you brazenly talking about your sexcapades in public, especially during one of the most important events of my year, is something I simply cannot ignore. This has not only strained my relationship with one of my closest business partners, but it has also jeopardized our families' standing. If anyone else had overheard, I can’t even begin to think how much worse the already damaging rumors would become."

“Mom seriously can you stop this,” you were furious that she would decide to do this here of all places. “This is fucking ridiculous and you know damn well that none of those stupid rumors are true. We can talk about this later, please.”

"I believe I'm entitled to speak as I please, especially considering this is my event," she retorted sharply. "Your father and I were generous enough to allow you to spend your entire summer break away without expecting you to address this mess you've created for us. I had hoped for better judgment from you. Instead, you and Jake decided to further exacerbate this situation by turning this trip into some sort of romantic getaway. I sure hope you were at least being smart and careful. The only thing that would make this situation worse is if you were to become pregnant. Who knows, you might even be pregnant right now. It wouldn’t even surprise me seeing as though that seems to be the only thing the two of you were doing in Monaco.”

Jake was a stuttering mess, his face flushed with embarrassment at the accusation. "Mrs. Y/LN, I swear that's not true," he managed to stammer out.

Before he could say anything else, your mother cut him off again. "I'm not so sure I can trust you on that. How can you be so sure that you didn't knock up my daughter?"

You were seething with anger at your mother's behavior, ready to intervene when suddenly a figure caught your eye.

Heeseung's fist connected with Jake's jaw before you even had a chance to react. The punch caught Jake off guard, and as he tried to recover, Heeseung landed another swift blow to his face.

"You got her pregnant?" Heeseung's voice was filled with anger as he launched himself at Jake, who was still reeling from the first two punches.

“What the fuck!” Jake groaned, struggling to fend off Heeseung's relentless assault.

Beside you, your mother was in a panic, shouting for security as everyone's attention turned to the commotion that erupted in front of you.

Before you could step in, Jay appeared out of nowhere, desperately trying to pull his friend away from their former friend.

"Heeseung, stop!" you screamed, rushing to Jay's aid.

But Heeseung was relentless, disregarding his surroundings entirely. All sense of decorum was abandoned as he straddled Jake, who was attempting to dodge Heeseung's blows while pushing him away.

From the other side, Sunghoon came running over to help pull Heeseung off of Jake. "Jesus Christ, Heeseung, get off him!"

After a couple of seconds of struggle, the three of you were finally able to pull Heeseung off of Jake, though he continued to struggle in attempts to break free. Security, called by your mother, arrived and joined in to help restrain the enraged boy.

Jake laid on the grass, his previously pristine custom white suit dirtied with splatters of blood and dirt from rolling around. Heeseung didn't look much better, his own suit now stained with blood, evidence of the fight. Despite being at a disadvantage, Jake had managed to land a few good punches, evidenced by the blood dripping from Heeseung’s nose. It was a chaotic scene, with whispers and murmurs from the other guests confirming their attention on the altercation. You could sense your mother's fury, even without seeing her directly.

"What the hell is this?" A gruff voice angrily interrogated.

Heeseung’s father had never been an easy person to be around, so you couldn’t even imagine how angry he currently was at his son’s behavior.

However, Heeseung seemed not to hear his father, his eyes staying trained on Jake, who was getting up with Sunghoon's help.

“Oh my, Liz, I am so sorry. I’m appalled; I genuinely am. I'm so embarrassed. I don’t know what came over him.” Heeseung’s mom quickly ran over to where your mother stood with fury and attempted to sincerely apologize.

“We are leaving.” Heeseung’s dad yanked his son from the security’s grip and started to drag him away, but not before also turning towards your mom with a stern look. “Yes, we apologize for our son’s behavior. We hope it didn’t ruin this beautiful event, and we will be excusing ourselves. Thank you for having us.”

You were still in shock with everything, and it seemed that everyone else was too, as no one moved and stood in silence, taking in everything that had happened. There was no way this just happened.

To say the last couple of days had been hell for you would be an understatement. Honestly, it felt even worse than the days following your breakup with Heeseung, when you could at least pack your bags and leave the country. But this time, with school starting in a week, that luxury would unfortunately not be granted to you a second time. Your parents were adamant that you face the mess head-on and frankly you found yourself wishing that you never returned from Monaco.

To make matters worse, Ryujin still wasn’t back. While she called every day, you still felt alone, especially since you hadn’t talked to Jake since your mom’s party. Rumors about your supposed pregnancy were rampant, further emphasizing your alleged infidelity, and you figured it was best to get some space from Jake until the rumors died down.

With nothing to do, you found yourself doing things you’d never normally do—like wandering down the chip aisle, looking for something to make you feel better about your situation.

“No, Ryujin, you don’t get it,” you huffed into the phone, frustration evident in your voice as you searched desperately for anything that sounded good. “I’ve gotten DMs from random people I’ve barely spoken to, asking if I’m actually pregnant and how far along I am. I’m so fucking sick of this.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry. This sucks so bad. It’s literally so fucking absurd and Heeseung was so stupid for this like I still can’t believe he did that. Don’t worry though, I’ll be there soon so just hold on,” Ryujin sounded sincere as the sound of waves echoed in the background. You envied your friend, who was probably at the beach right now, getting a nice tan with her hot beau, and not miserably suffering in this stupid predicament like you were.

“Ugh, I can’t wait until you’re here. I’m like seriously going through it and I just hope it’ll die down once school starts, but I doubt it because—”

“Y/N?”

You were abruptly cut off by a shrill voice. Even before you turned your head to face them, you knew exactly who it was and found yourself unable to hold back an exasperated groan. “Fuck, I’ll call you later, Ryujin.”

Karina had always been one of the most beautiful girls you knew, even from a young age and you couldn’t deny that she looked stunning now, even under the horrendously yellow dim lights of the grocery store. But, like always, she had a knack for bringing out a grimace on your face, which you sported as you turned to face her.

“Oh my God, no way! I thought it was you earlier but I was like, no way is The Y/N out shopping for groceries. But honestly, who else could it be? I mean, you’re unmistakable.” Karina held a shopping basket in one hand that barely had anything in it. She was dressed like she was about to attend a charity gala, a stark contrast to your Lululemon shorts and an old shirt from Heeseung’s closet.

“Hey, Karina,” was all you could let out before she animatedly started speaking again, not giving you a second to talk.

"It's been so long! I mean, how long has it been since we last saw each other? You didn’t even say goodbye to any of us and just left but you look great, especially considering—oh, and congrats! Honestly, I was actually worried it would be awkward between us, but once I heard the news, all my worries disappeared. You and Jake seem so happy together, and you have no idea how thrilled I was when I heard that you guys are about to start a family. It’s so cute and I now know that there's no reason for me to worry about you getting mad about me and Heeseung. Although I was a little surprised your boyfriend attacked mine like that, but I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

Karina spoke without pausing, giving you no time to digest her words and she didn’t seem to notice your growing annoyance as she continued to babble with that smug look on her face.

“Wait hold on, you and Heeseung are dating?” There was no way you heard her right.

But it seemed that you did as she nodded with a bright smile on her face. “Yeah it’s still kind of new only a couple of months but it’s been amazing. I mean I’m sure you know just as well that he’s like literally the best.” Her voice slowly drowned out as you took everything in. A couple of months ago was literally when you left for Monaco so it meant that Heeseung didn’t waste any time to make Karina his girlfriend.

“What the fuck, Karina?” You didn’t hold back, making sure she knew you were beyond enraged at this new revelation.

Her face held a surprised expression as you cut her off abruptly. “I’m sorry, but what do you mean?”

You rolled your eyes. You knew she understood exactly what you were talking about, and it infuriated you that she was pretending otherwise. You knew Karina too well; she was reveling in the fact that she currently had something you didn’t for the first time in her life.

“Drop the act, Karina. I don’t have time for this shit. We both know exactly what you’re trying to do, and it’s pathetic. You and your friends can call me a slut for supposedly cheating on Heeseung, but it’s rich coming from you when you and Heeseung literally did the same thing. Not to mention the fact that you two didn’t even wait a decent amount of time before getting together after he and I broke up. So honestly, I hope you’re both happy and sincerely, fuck you both.”

You didn't bother to stick around to hear whatever else she had to say. As you turned and walked away, you felt your eyes welling up with tears. You thought you were over Heeseung, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. The revelation of his new relationship pulled at your heartstrings, making you wonder if you ever really mattered to him the way he did to you. Nothing hurt more than realizing that the two year-long relationship you cherished above all else might have been a joke to him.

“Ryujin, I really don’t think I’m up for going out,” you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. Ryujin, on the other side of the room, was finishing her makeup at the vanity.

“No way, I told you, you’re not staying holed up moping around because of Heeseung again. You already did that in Monaco, and I’m not letting you waste any more time on that asshole. You’re coming out with us, and you are going to have an amazing night.”

Ryujin had finally come back the day before, and while having her by your side made you feel better, you couldn’t stop thinking about your ex.

“I seriously doubt one night of drinking and partying will make Heeseung disappear from my thoughts,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You knew Ryujin would end up dragging you out, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t complain the whole time.

“I think you’re underestimating the power of a good night out. Who knows, maybe you’ll find some hottie to get your mind off everything,” Ryujin shrugged while spritzing perfume. “Maybe you should go looking for Jake.”

You shook your head at her. “Jake’s not going to help.”

“Well actually, from what I remember I think Jake helped a good bit with speeding up the process of you getting over moping about Heeseung a couple of months ago so who’s to say that it won’t work this time?”

“I am not sleeping with Jake again. That would literally make everything like so much worse. Everyone already thinks I’m pregnant with his kid. I don’t need more things to fuel that rumor.”

Ryujin wasn’t wrong about your summer situationship with Jake helping to distract you, but continuing it back here would only add fuel to the fire. Not to mention, your relationship with Jake was purely platonic with some sexual attraction. That was all it ever was even back in high school, and you had both talked at length about how neither of you saw a relationship beyond friendship. So even if you went to him looking for something more, Jake ultimately wouldn’t be able to give you what you wanted.

“Well then there’s other people! What about-” You cut her off abruptly.

You cut her off abruptly. “Ryujin, I know you’re just trying to help, and I really do appreciate it, but I just think sleeping with other people isn’t going to solve anything. I just want to lay low this semester and focus on school. I don’t want to be wrapped up in more drama.” Done with the conversation, you grabbed your purse, suddenly more eager to get to the party if it meant changing the subject.

“Ready to go?” you asked, and just like that, her eyes lit up and a wide, giddy smile spread across her face as she eagerly followed you out.

The Uber ride was short, and before you knew it, you had arrived. Hyunjin was known for throwing the best parties, and tonight was no exception. The massive manor, which you were all too familiar with, was already buzzing with more people than you imagined his parents would ever find acceptable.

“Hey, there you guys are!” Ryujin’s close friend Yujin, who you were also friendly with, excitedly ran over to greet you both. She had been studying abroad for 6 months and you hadn’t seen her since so you were even more elated to see her.

“Hey, Yujin! It’s been a while! You and Sunoo looked like you were having the time of your lives in Italy.” You greeted her warmly, following her inside as she led you to where all the drinks were.

“Oh yeah, it was beyond amazing, but I’m sure nothing compares to Monaco. God, I haven’t been there in ages.” She poured out shots and passed them to you and Ryujin. Without hesitation, the three of you knocked them back, grimacing slightly at the aftertaste.

“Fuck, I already miss it. It took like an hour to say goodbye to Louis, and I was so upset for the first 30 minutes of the plane ride. But the good thing about summer flings is that after the goodbyes, there's nothing left to hold onto, so it’s easy to get over.” Ryujin poured another shot for both of you while Yujin reached for a can of Ranch Water.

“I literally thought they were going to try something serious since she was with him all summer. Half the time, I couldn’t even find her because she and Louis were off somewhere, but I guess he really was just a summer fling.” You nudged your friend as Yujin let out an amused giggle.

“I bet! Those pics on your most recent Insta post, man, they were hot. What about you, Y/N? Any European hotties catch your eye?” Yujin wiggled her brows, and you rolled your eyes while reaching behind her for a can of Ranch Water.

“More like an Australian hottie,” Ryujin teased, and you instantly elbowed her.

“Jesus Christ, Ryujin, seriously shut up.” You shot her an annoyed look.

Yujin, however, seemed to find amusement in Ryujin’s remark as she gave you a wide-eyed look while giggling. “No way, so it’s true then?”

“Fuck no. I mean yeah, we hooked up, but I swear to God I’m not pregnant.” You shook your head vehemently.

You saw Yujin open her mouth, but Ryujin beat her to it, grabbing your arm. “Don’t turn around.”

Your brows furrowed at her panicked actions, and you started to turn your head, but she quickly stopped you. “What? What happened?”

“Fuck, Heeseung’s here,” Yujin answered, her eyes darting around past your head. “He’s over there near the pool table. Don’t turn around.”

You stood still, heart racing, as you listened to your friends' directions. You saw Ryujin's expression shift from panic to a scowl.

“And he brought Karina. She’s stuck on him like a fucking leech,” Ryujin sneered. Even before the summer, Ryujin had always been Karina’s number one hater, so her reaction was no surprise.

Quickly, you decided it would be best to leave the area, and the girls seemed to think the same as the three of you started to move. But before you could take a step out of the kitchen, a booming voice caught your attention.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon’s voice echoed through the music, loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. You stiffened as you realized your presence was now exposed to everyone.

“Fuck, it’s been a long time!” He approached with a massive smile and, before you could even respond, engulfed you in a tight hug. Behind him, you spotted Jake trailing close by, rolling his eyes at his friend.

"Hey, Sunghoon," you greeted him back, debating whether to reciprocate the hug he wasn't letting go of.

"Okay, buddy, that's enough," Jake intervened, yanking his friend back.

"Oh, princess, you got even prettier while you were away! If that's even possible, but damn, you look amazing," Sunghoon's red, dopey eyes hinted at his intoxicated state.

"He's crossed," Jake confirmed, as if reading your mind.

"Oh God, why did you let him do that again?" Ryujin scolded Jake, delivering a disapproving look along with a smack on his arm.

"What the fuck! I'm not his babysitter," Jake retorted, shooting Ryujin a pointed look.

"Well, he is your best friend," you shrugged.

"I'm totally fine, you guys worry too much," Sunghoon shot everyone a smile before reaching for the drink in your hand, which you quickly pulled away.

"Yeah, Sunghoon, maybe lay off the drinking and smoking for now. I think I still have the video from the last time you got crossed," Yujin remarked, raising a skeptical brow at his current state. The mention of the video drew snorts of amusement from everyone except Sunghoon.

Instead, Sunghoon's eyes widened at her words, shaking his head vigorously. "I swear that won’t happen tonight."

"Well, it might if you keep this up," Ryujin added, recalling the infamous incident the last time Sunghoon was in this state. It involved projectile vomiting on a girl followed by passing out on her, effectively ruining any chance he might have had with her.

"Whatever," Sunghoon rolled his eyes, turning away, but before he could even take a step, he turned right back around (unsteadily with Jake stepping in to steady him), and blurted out, "Heeseung's here."

You could hear Jake cursing under his breath at Sunghoon’s words, while Ryujin nodded.

"Yeah, we were trying to sneak out of the kitchen before they noticed us, and then you had to go and yell Y/N’s name," Ryujin added.

"Oh," Sunghoon sheepishly nodded. "My bad."

"Does he have to fucking bring her everywhere?" Jake muttered, casting another glance towards where Heeseung and Karina were.

"You know, I even heard Jay’s getting sick of her tagging along everywhere."

"Where’d you hear that?" You shot Sunghoon a suspicious look.

“Gaeul.”

"She still hangs out with them?" Ryujin scoffed, clearly annoyed.

"She claims to be the neutral party between us."

“So she’s still being a fucking dumbass?” Ryujin shot back, clearly unimpressed with their friend’s stance.

"Well, she still reports everything back to us, so it's not all bad," Jake tried to reason, but Ryujin wasn't buying it.

From next to you, Yujin chuckled. "Your friend group is so fucking messy, thank God I'm not involved. I'm going to find Hyunjin for some weed. Good luck sorting out your drama." She shot you a wink before briskly walking away before anyone could respond.

"Are we really that messy?" Sunghoon asked innocently, but before anyone could answer, he vomited everywhere.

You were cursing under your breath as you tried to wash the puke out of your shorts, fuming at Park Sunghoon. Thankfully, they were black, so staining wasn't an issue, but standing in your underwear in a house party bathroom, scrubbing your pants instead of enjoying the night, was infuriating. Even if you managed to clean them, you'd be stuck wearing damp pants for the rest of the night.

As you wrung out the fabric, desperate to dry them as much as possible, the bathroom door suddenly swung open.

“Oh! Sorry— Y/N?” Heeseung’s eyes widened in surprise when he realized not only that someone was already in the bathroom but that it was you.

In your haste to escape Sunghoon's vomit, you must have forgotten to lock the door. Naturally, Heeseung had to be the one to barge in.

The two of you stood there awkwardly, each taking in the other's appearance. It was technically your first real encounter since your return, discounting the brief moment at your mother's garden party before Heeseung was promptly escorted away by his parents.

He looked way too good, enough to stir butterflies in your stomach. It was unsettling how Heeseung could still have this effect on you after everything that had happened.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted cautiously, breaking the silence. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Hey, Heeseung," you replied, unsure of how to navigate the awkwardness.

"Sunghoon was right," he blurted out abruptly, his words coming out in a rush before he could stop himself.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What?"

"I-I mean, he said... that you look even prettier now," Heeseung stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I mean, not that you weren't pretty before, but, um... yeah."

Your cheeks warmed at his unexpected compliment. This wasn't how you had imagined your first conversation with him after coming back would go.

"Uh, thanks."

A few more uncomfortable seconds ticked by before Heeseung finally seemed to notice your state. "Uh, what are you doing?"

You had completely forgotten about your current attire—just in your underwear, a lacy black thong that had driven Heeseung wild a few months ago.

"Oh, Sunghoon threw up on me after getting crossed," you explained, shaking your head in annoyance as you returned to wringing out your shorts.

"Again? Fuck, he really needs to learn not to do that. If he had a nickel for every time he puked on a pretty girl while he was crossed, he'd have two," Heeseung remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. There was no way you were actually laughing at your cheating ex’s jokes.

Heeseung seemed to relax a bit upon hearing your giggles, joining in with a laugh of his own.

"Here, let me help. There's probably a dryer around here somewhere," he offered, finally deciding to step into the bathroom as he closed the door behind him. He bent down, rifling through a couple of cabinets until he found what he was looking for.

"Fuck, I don't know why I didn't think of that earlier," you muttered, taking the dryer from him and plugging it in before switching it on.

He reached over to hold your shorts for you while you dried them. After a few minutes, you turned off the dryer, confident your shorts were dry enough by now. "Thanks," you said, taking them from him.

As you looked up at him, you suddenly became aware of the closeness between the two of you. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes locked with his.

Fuck he was hot.

You could feel the all-too-familiar warmth spreading throughout your body as the two of you held each other's gaze, neither daring to look away. Slowly, almost as if guided by muscle memory, you inched your faces closer until you could feel his breath on your lips, poised to kiss him. But a small voice in your head stopped you before you could fully lean in.

“Wait.”

Heeseung instantly pulled back. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, no it's not that. I can’t do that to Karina," you hurriedly explained, shaking your head. Tears threatened to spill over as the pain of Heeseung's past betrayal resurfaced. Despite any animosity toward Karina, you couldn't bring yourself to inflict that same hurt on anyone else.

"What?" Heeseung furrowed his brows, confusion etched across his face as he looked at you.

"Heeseung, you can't just fucking cheat on her after you cheated on me with her!" You shot him an incredulous look, unable to believe how close he had come to infidelity once again.

His head shook vehemently, confusion clouding his eyes. "What do you mean? If anything, you're the one who's cheating!"

"Jesus Christ, for the last fucking time, I'm not dating Jake!" You yelled in frustration.

“And I’m not dating Karina!”

The two of you stared at each other, mutual confusion now evident, leaving you both speechless.

“What?”

"Yeah, I'm not dating her! And what do you mean you're not dating Jake?" Heeseung shot back, equally bewildered.

"I literally saw her a couple of days ago, and she told me the two of you had been dating for a couple of months," you said, watching Heeseung shake his head in disbelief.

"What the fuck! She's fucking lying, we are not dating, let alone have been dating. That fucking bitch, literally what the fuck," Heeseung was beyond pissed.

You scoffed, equally heated. "Karina was literally rubbing it in my face about how happy you two were. And for your information, I have never dated Jake."

"What the fuck, Y/N? I fucking punched him!" Heeseung felt like he was going insane. Everything he had believed for the past few months was suddenly a lie.

You rolled your eyes at his outburst. "Yeah, I fucking know. I was there, if you remember! He still has a fucking split lip because of you, and my mom's still beyond mad about it."

You had to be lying, Heeseung couldn’t believe your words. “There’s no fucking way.”

“Yeah you fucking dumbass, you beat him up for nothing.”

“Wait, wait, wait no it’s still fucking justified! He was one of my best friends who went on and fucking slept with my girlfriend!” There was no way the two of you were actually having this conversation at a raging party after not seeing each other for three months.

"No, he didn't! Or at least not while we were dating, and I'm also not fucking pregnant!" Your voice echoed in the cramped bathroom. You were still intoxicated and could feel a headache coming on.

"Fuck you! Literally, everyone saw you two that night," Heeseung retorted sharply, but before he could continue, it seemed he fully absorbed your words, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. "So you have been fucking Jake!"

"Yeah, but only after we broke up, not before! And you can't be acting all innocent when you've literally been with Karina!" You were annoyed by his accusatory tone. He was such a fucking hypocrite.

"Okay, but I didn't blatantly sleep with her at a party while we were still together like you did—"

You cut him off by smashing your lips against his, needing to silence him in any way possible. You couldn't stand another moment of arguing about this.

You could feel Heeseung freeze for a second, taken aback by your action, but he quickly recovered as you could feel his lips move against yours.

There was nothing romantic about the kiss as the two of you hungrily pushed back against each other, fighting for dominance. Teeth clashed against each other as your tongues battled back and forth and you could barely breathe, but it seemed that neither of you considered stopping anytime soon.

His hands quickly found themselves ripping your top off you as yours went straight down to undo his pants and push them down. You finally pulled away from the kiss to spit on your hand before going straight back into his lips. Not a second was spared to think about your actions as you didn’t hesitate to stick your hand down his underwear. He was already half-hard and you quickly wrapped your hand around his length, inciting a groan out of him.

While one hand worked on pushing down his underwear the other worked on pumping him. Heeseung was in almost the same state as one of his hands was found groping at your boobs, playing with your nipple, while the other also attempted to pull your underwear down.

As soon as your thong reached mid-thigh, Heeseung quickly broke the kiss to turn you around and roughly push you down against the bathroom counter. You jolted at the cold counter pressing against your already sensitive nipples but Heeseung pushed down hard on your back so you couldn’t lift yourself up. You looked helpless in the mirror and without warning you felt his dick plunging deep inside of you.

You gasped at the intrusion. Sharp pain erupted within you as tears welled in your eyes and you could do nothing except tightly squeeze them shut while your hands desperately attempted to grab at anything to hold on to. Heeseung had started to fuck you without even giving you a second to adjust and your cries filled the bathroom.

You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long and sure Jake was a freak in bed with a big dick but he had never considered fucking you before making sure you were prepped. No, this was Heeseung’s specialty. He fucking loved it and you couldn’t help but also find yourself loving the pain that came with his pleasure.

“Fucking slut, look at yourself,” Heeseung growled in your ear before roughly grabbing your hair and pulling it back, forcing you to face yourself in the mirror.

“Please, Heeseung,” you could barely moan out.

His hand gripped your hip so tightly that he knew bruises from his fingers were sure to be left afterward and his eyes were crazed as he battered himself even harder against your cervix, giving you no respite.

“What? What else could you want, I’m already fucking you. Greedy whore.” You felt yourself clench tighter around him as you heard his words. You were almost there as you could feel the tight coil just about ready to snap.

“Oh fuck, Heeseung harder,” you screamed.

Heeseung did just as you asked and as if it was possible, you felt him force himself even deeper inside you at a faster pace. You knew he was battering deep at your cervix, but you were too focused on chasing your orgasm that you couldn’t even care for the dull aching pain. His hand in your hair pushed your head against the mirror and you found yourself unable to stop yourself from drooling and fogging up the mirror. His animalistic grunts filled your ear and the grip in your hair got tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You screamed out as the coil snapped and you felt yourself reaching your ultimate high. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you slumped against the mirror, having no strength to hold yourself up.

Heeseung was also close as you felt his cock twitch inside you and before you knew it, warm spurts of cum painted inside of you as you felt him thrust a couple of more times while he panted. He came so much that you could even feel some drip down the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck,” he breathed out as he slowly pulled out, watching his cum drip out of you and land on the bathroom floor.

You were still slumped against the mirror, attempting to catch your breath and process what had just happened.

As your eyes connected with Heeseung’s through the mirror, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. The weight of what the two of you had just done bore down on you, and shame began to smother you, making you feel like you were suffocating. You couldn't stay there with him a moment longer. Quickly, you dressed yourself, doing your best to ignore the aching pain between your legs. Heeseung looked confused by your sudden change, but before he could say anything, you were out the door, leaving him to dwell on the implications of your actions.

You honestly hadn’t been listening to anything Ryujin had been saying for the past couple of minutes as she rambled on. Instead, you stared at the piece of salmon on your plate, analyzing each line that ran through the fish. If you didn’t focus on this, your mind would start drifting back to what happened yesterday, and you'd rather shoot yourself in the foot than think about that.

“Hey, Y/N, are you even listening?” Ryujin raised her voice, trying to get your attention.

Snapping out of it, you finally took your eyes away from your dinner and looked up at her. “Oh, sorry, I got distracted.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’ve been talking to you, and you went catatonic or something. What is up with you?” She furrowed her brows at your unusual behavior.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you quickly responded, but you knew the second she put her utensils down that she wasn’t buying it.

“Don’t fucking try to lie to me. I can see through your bullshit. What’s wrong?” Her gaze was intense, analyzing you as if there would be an external sign explaining your strange behavior.

You sighed, debating whether to tell her exactly what had happened. Deciding against it, you realized that if you opened that can of worms, things would get even messier. “Uhm, I don’t know, I guess I’m just still hungover.”

“You didn’t even drink that much yesterday, though,” she said, brows still furrowed. She had noticed you hadn’t come out of your room all day and had to literally drag you out just to get dinner with her.

“Are you sick? You don’t really look sick though.”

You shook your head, searching for anything to blame your odd behavior on. “Uhm, I just think I bruised my cervix, and it just hurts.”

Her eyes instantly widened, and you could see her holding back a grin. “Oh my fucking God, you slut. You had me thinking something actually bad had happened! When did you and Sim even run off to fuck?”

You sighed in relief, glad that she was distracted by the news you had just dropped on her. She didn’t notice the lingering look in your eyes that indicated there was actually something deeper driving you mad.

“Uh, quickie in the bathroom. I don’t know, you were probably too drunk to notice.”

She hummed while nodding. “Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I don’t really remember much after Sunghoon puked everywhere. But fuck, a bruised cervix from a quickie is insane. Oh, Yujin is going to love this.”

“Yeah, it’s a fucking bitch. I feel like I’m sitting on a knife or something,” you said. You weren’t lying about this part—you were sure Heeseung had actually bruised your cervix with how hard he fucked you last night—but you were fine letting her think you had slept with Jake instead.

“Oh, my poor baby. No wonder you’ve been in bed all day. Let’s just get this boxed up and head back to the apartment. Geez, I’m gonna have to have a talk with Jake later.” You flashed her a smile, nodding at her suggestion, glad that this not only got her off your back but also got you out of having to stay another thirty minutes at this restaurant.

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

if anyone asks we fucked last night kk?

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

wtf

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

no questions pls

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

fuck that what’d u do 🤨

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

none of your business go back to playing roblox with riki or something 🙄

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

THAT WAS ONE TIME

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

fuck you

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

tell me!!!!! you made it my business when you dragged my dick into whatever it is so i deserve to know 😤

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

i bruised my cervix

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

HUH

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

NO I’M NOT TAKING THE BLAME FOR THAT??

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

everyone’s gonna think you have a big dick

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

bet 🙂‍↕️

The rest of the weekend passed without Ryujin or anyone else probing into your life, and you couldn’t have been happier. There were so many moments where you debated whether or not you should reach out to Heeseung, but you quickly dismissed the idea. Besides, you had blocked him on everything, and you were sure he had done the same, so there would be no point in trying.

Distracted by thoughts of Heeseung, it had completely slipped from your mind that school was starting back on Monday. Last night (thanks to Ryujin of course), you hurriedly packed your school bag and made sure you had everything for the first day.

And while you usually enjoyed school, just from today, you already felt overwhelmed. It seemed that all your professors had decided to assign work and readings for the next class. You were already swamped with assignments, feeling the weight of the semester ahead.

“Okay, but don’t you think I at least deserve to know who you slept with?” Jake's voice cut through your thoughts as you walked through the library shelves, searching for a book your professor had assigned out of nowhere that wasn’t even mentioned in the syllabus. You had been barely listening to his yapping as most of your focus was on finding the book.

“Ryujin won’t stop talking my ear off about how I broke you and how you couldn’t move all weekend. She thinks I’m an ass and won’t stop scolding me like I’m the one who did it! I’m a gentleman—I’d never bruise anyone’s cervix without permission,” Jake said with an exasperated tone, trailing behind you.

“I’m pretty sure gentlemen, at least the ones i know don’t beg on their knees for anal-”

He cut you off, his eyes widening. “Alright, alright! That was one time and I was drunk. Jesus, woman! And don’t act like you didn’t let me do it—you were perfectly fine with it. Either way, I still feel like I should know who the fella is.”

“Please don’t say fella, it’s such a turn-off.” You scrunched your face at his choice of vocabulary, shaking your head before turning back to search for your book.

“Okay, fine, whatever. I just want to know who I’m protecting from Ryujin’s annoying ass, and honestly, I think Sunghoon overheard her, so now we can assume the whole school knows.” It was well-known that once any news hit Sunghoon, it spread through the school like wildfire. He had a bit of a loose lip and an affinity for gossip, making him the school’s personal Deuxmoi, but with none of the anonymity (maybe Perez Hilton was a better comparison).

“I’m serious, Jake, you don’t want to know. Just leave it. You owe me anyway.” By now, you were growing increasingly irritated with Jake’s relentless probing and the fact that you still couldn’t find the damn book.

He shot you an incredulous look. “Owe you for what? Now you’re just making up debts that don’t even exist!”

“Anal,” you replied without missing a beat, already smiling, knowing his reaction.

“Oh my God, Y/N, fuck you literally! Geez, if someone had told me this was the price I had to pay for putting it in the ass once, I wouldn’t have even touched it with a ten-foot pole,” Jake exclaimed, and you couldn’t help but giggle. You loved to mess with Jake, especially because he was always so overly dramatic and had the best reactions.

“Seriously, Jake, you don’t want to know. You did your job, so thanks, but please stop bothering me about this.” You flashed him an exaggerated smile and patted him on the head.

Jake’s eyes widened, and he stopped in his tracks. “No fucking way.”

“What?” You didn’t like how he was staring at you.

“Please don’t tell me you slept with Heeseung.” The smile on your face instantly vanished as you froze at his words. How the fuck did he know?

“No fucking way. You just slept with the enemy? Are you kidding me? Do you see this?” He gestured dramatically at his face. “This is the aftermath of my survival from his wrath and proof that I fought valiantly for you. And you go ahead and sleep with him? Oh my God, and you made everyone think I fucked up your vagina when it was actually him? Holy shit, wait until Ryujin hears about this.” You quickly reached over and clamped your hand over his mouth, realizing how absurdly loud he was being in the library.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re practically screaming! And what the fuck are you even talking about? Of course, I would never sleep with Heeseung.” You did your best to mask your surprise, hoping he wouldn’t catch on.

Jake shook his head, scoffing in disbelief. “You’re such a shit liar. The only other time I remember your cervix getting bruised was when Heeseung fucked you on that yacht last Christmas. Remember how you had a hard time sitting straight at Christmas dinner?”

Fuck, he got you there.

You sighed and reluctantly nodded, closing your eyes in frustration. “Okay, fine. But please don’t tell Ryujin, Sunghoon, or anyone else. I already feel like shit about it, and my self-worth is in the gutter right now. I’ve been sick all weekend just thinking about it.”

“He didn’t force you or anything, right?” Jake's face shifted to one of genuine concern, his brows knitting together.

You shook your head. “No, of course not. It’s just that I regret it so much. I felt so gross afterward. It was just a really, really bad drunken mistake, and I don’t want to talk about it. Seriously, thanks for covering for me. You’re literally the best because I really don’t want anyone to find out. I just want to forget about it.”

Jake studied you for a moment, clearly understanding how much this was affecting you. He nodded, reaching out to give you a comforting hug, which you gratefully returned while you let out a sigh. “Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t say anything. Just let me know if he tries anything else or if you need anything.”

The hug was comforting, a small balm for the turmoil of the weekend. You were relieved he didn’t press further or make you feel worse about what happened. However, as you started to pull away, a familiar voice sliced through the air, bringing with it an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Jake’s groan confirmed the arrival of the last person you wanted to see.

“In the library is kinky, but what can I expect from the two of you? Always so classy,” Karina’s smug tone cut through the air. You and Jake quickly broke from the hug, and you rolled your eyes as you faced her, already irritated by her presence.

“Are you stupid or like blind? Cause obviously if you weren’t then you’d be able to clearly see we were just hugging you fucking dumbass,” Jake snapped back, his tone sharp. Normally, you’d find his sass amusing, but Karina’s presence seemed to have sucked out any potential humor in the air.

“Jesus, Jake, you’re such an ass,” Karina snapped back at him before turning her attention to you. “Get your dog on a leash, would you? Maybe you should have been more careful about who you chose to have a kid with. The anger issues are seriously concerning with this one, not to mention the aggression. Heard about what happened over the weekend.”

“Karina literally shut the fuck up. You know damn well I’m not pregnant. It’s not even funny anymore; you’re just dragging it out. Just fucking mind your own business,” you snapped, your anger bubbling over. You could see Jake’s jaw clenched tight, his irritation matching your own.

“Well actually it kind of is my business 'cause Heeseung has been MIA all weekend, and I can’t help but wonder—since you’re such a slut—if you had something to do with it. The past few months since you two left were perfect, but the second you come back, everything seems to be fucked up. So tell me, what the hell happened at the party?” Karina’s sneer was almost unbearable, and you fought the urge to slap her.

“Maybe he finally realized what a fucking bitch you are.”Jake’s voice was laced with disdain. If Ryujin was Karina’s biggest hater, Jake wouldn’t be far behind her. Even as kids he hated even having to sit at the same table as her so his hostility towards her was all too familiar for you.

Karina ignored him as her glare remained fixed on you. Her pretty face now twisted into a deep frown and you knew she was pissed. It was a stark contrast to the fake friendliness she’d shown you just a week ago at the grocery store.

“I didn’t fucking do anything, and I don’t want anything to do with him, so fuck off. Seriously. Maybe Jake’s right—he finally realized how much of a clingy piece of shit you are,” you shot back, frustration evident in your voice. You should have known that Karina would notice Heeseung missing from her side for a good portion of Friday night.

Karina’s expression hardened as she took a step closer, unyielding. “You’re such a shit liar. What did you do?”

“This is bullshit. Let’s fucking go,” Jake said, grabbing your arm and pulling you away. Neither of you wanted to spend another second there.

“You know he said I did it better than you, right?” Karina’s taunt was intended to provoke, and it did just that. You froze, feeling her words hit hard despite knowing she was just trying to get under your skin.

“C’mon, let’s go. Don’t fucking listen to her,” Jake urged, tugging you along again. As much as you tried to ignore her, her words had a lingering effect, and you hated that they got under your skin.

You didn’t care that this was your last year in college; you were convinced that you needed to transfer anywhere far away from here. There was no way you could endure a whole year of torment from Heeseung and Karina. As if to cement this decision, today seemed determined to be the worst day of your life. The moment you arrived at your apartment, rage surged through you when you saw who was waiting for you in front of your door.

“I’m going to fucking call security,” you instantly snapped, pulling your phone out of your back pocket.

Heeseung’s eyes went wide as his hands reached out in front of him. “Wait, wait, wait! Please, Y/N.”

You stared up at him, his eyes pleading with you to hear him out. Those bambi eyes always got to you, and this time was no different. With a roll of your eyes, you slowly put your phone down. “Okay, but I swear to God, if you try anything—”

“I swear I won’t! I promise, I just really need to talk to you. I’ve tried texting you, but I think you blocked me,” Heeseung said, sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

“Fine,” you muttered before walking past him, opening your apartment door, and stepping inside. You left the door open, signaling that he could come in, but he seemed hesitant, staring at the open door.

“Are you coming in or not?”

He blinked a couple of times, surprised that you were allowing him into your apartment, but he quickly followed you in and closed the door behind him. He hadn’t been inside in so long that it felt almost surreal. Everything looked exactly the same, and he found himself realizing that he had kind of missed being here.

“Wow, nothing’s changed,” Heeseung remarked, his tone revealing his surprise, especially as he noticed the photo of the two of you still on top of the kitchen counter.

You followed his gaze and felt heat rise to your face. You didn’t really know why you hadn’t taken it down. “Uh, yeah, I mean, I also haven’t been here for like three months, so I didn’t really have time to change anything.”

Heeseung nodded, but as his eyes trailed back to you, he found himself staring, forgetting his words. You were as gorgeous as ever, but it seemed that the time away had only made him realize how even more beautiful you were.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” The air between the two of you was awkward, just like at the party however, seeing him sober during the day gave you a much clearer look at him, and you wanted to fucking die. You hated that effect he had on you.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, uh, I just wanted to check up on you. Friday was kind of intense, and you ran off before I could say anything, so I was worried. I’m sorry for being so rough with you. I shouldn’t have done that.” Heeseung had been beating himself up over how he had treated you, so much so that he hadn’t talked to anyone all weekend despite his phone blowing up with messages from his friends.

“It’s fine. It was something we both wanted, and if anything, it’s on me. I kissed you first, so I’m sorry for that.”

Heeseung shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry, seriously it’s okay, but uhm, I also just wanted to make sure you knew that I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t dating Karina. I swear I’m not.”

Your brows furrowed as you recalled the incident in the library a couple of hours ago. “Well, does Karina know that?”

“What?”

"She confronted me and Jake at the library, demanding to know what I did for you to ghost her all weekend." Heeseung frowned slightly at Jake’s name, and his frown deepened as he listened to what Karina had done. "From what it looks like, she seems to believe that your relationship is much more than whatever you’re saying it is."

“What the fuck? I swear we’re not together. I—” He stopped himself and sighed, realizing that to make you understand he was telling the truth, he had to tell you everything. “Fuck, I— Uh, shit, we’ve just been kind of hooking up, but I swear that’s all.”

He looked almost embarrassed admitting the nature of his and Karina’s relationship, and you could feel a part of your heart waver at what you heard. For him to admit out loud to you and confirm what you had thought was happening hurt despite you knowing that you didn’t have a right as you two weren’t together anymore.

“Oh, uh, okay.” You nodded as you quickly turned around and opened the fridge. You pretended to look around as if you meant to open the fridge before reaching to get the Brita out for water. You knew that if you faced him, the tear welling up in your eyes would pour down your face.

Heeseung went into a near-panic as he saw your reaction. Having dated you for over two years and known you for your entire life, he could tell you were upset. He noticed your shoulders tensing as you kept your back to him, looking into the fridge.

“Wait, wait, but I swear it’s nothing more than that, and I promise whatever happened between Karina and me is over. I don’t have any feelings for her—I never did. She was just there after you left, and it just happened,” he rushed to explain. But his words only seemed to make you feel worse as he continued to ramble.

“Why are you telling me this? You think this is going to make me want to get back with you?” You shook your head in annoyance, grabbing a glass from a cabinet and filling it with water from the Brita.

“No! I’m not trying to convince you of anything,” he said, now genuinely panicked. This was not how he intended the conversation to go.

“You know what she said?”

“Huh?”

“Karina, you know what she said?” He slowly shook his head, clearly confused by where you were going with this.

“She said that you told her she did it better than I ever did,” you snapped, your anger evident as you stared him down.

His eyes widened in shock, and he scoffed in disbelief. “What the fuck! I’ve never said anything like that to her or to anyone, and it’s not fucking true.”

“What? So she’s just lying to get under my skin?” You were fuming, frustration etched across your face. “Karina’s a fucking bitch, but even she wouldn’t just make something like that up. You must’ve hinted at something for her to believe it.”

“No, no, no, I swear I haven’t said or done anything remotely like what she’s claiming. She’s a fucking liar,” Heeseung's anger flared as he defended himself, clearly outraged at Karina’s audacity.

“Well, it still doesn’t change the fact that you ran straight to her bed the second I was out of the country—literally one fucking day after we broke up!” You huffed, clearly pissed.

“Ok well don’t fucking act like you didn’t do the exact same with Jake. What the hell, Y/N? It isn’t my fault we broke up! You literally slept with one of my best friends!” Heeseung's frustration boiled over, clearly bewildered that you were still trying to act like you had no role in ending the relationship.

“I’ve told you a million times that I didn’t cheat on you with Jake! What more do I have to say for you to believe me?” You were fed up with defending yourself on this issue.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “Honestly, aren’t you tired of keeping all this up? Beomgyu’s video and Karina along with everyone else hearing about you two should be enough proof.”

“Oh my fucking God! Jake went into the bathroom with me to help because I was puking my guts out. I drank way too much that night because I was so upset after seeing my fucking boyfriend cuddling with some other bitch all night! You’re genuinely a complete moron if you think Beomgyu and Karina are reliable sources. Beomgyu’s been a fucking asshole to me since freshman year because he’s still bitter that I refused to sleep with him, and Karina has wanted to get with you for as long as I can remember. Seriously, I thought you had at least some common sense in you!” You were yelling so loudly that your throat was already starting to feel raw.

Heeseung shook his head in disbelief. He had no idea Beomgyu had even tried to make a move on you, and now that he thought about it, he realized there had always been tension between the two of you. While he knew about Karina’s crush on him, he hadn’t thought she’d actually go as far as to lie about this. “Okay, well people still heard you two together.”

“Fucking hell, Heeseung, it was a house party with a hundred people. You really think anyone could hear anything over the music? You know what, whatever—believe what you want. There’s no point in trying to convince you otherwise. I’ve been honest with you the whole time, and it’s been you who’s been unwilling to listen. You dumped me without even considering my side, even though you were the one neglecting me during that last month before we broke up, spending all your time with Karina. Honestly, even if you’re telling the truth about not sleeping with her before we broke up, it doesn’t change the fact that you emotionally cheated. The number of dates you forgot or canceled to be with her, and how many times I saw you two together on campus when you said you were just hanging out with the guys. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re not together. Just get out.”

Tears streamed down your face, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. You wanted Heeseung to see the pain he had caused you.

Heeseung was at a loss for words as he saw the pain etched across your face. It broke his heart and he couldn’t help but start to realize that maybe there was a chance you were telling the truth and that he might be to blame for everything. He felt his heart crumble. “Y/N…”

You sniffed and shook your head. “Get out, Heeseung. I never want to see you again.”

It had been a week since Heeseung had gone over to your apartment, and every day since, he had been determined to find a way to make it up to you. He knew what your last words to him were, but there was no way he was going to let you go that easily, especially now that he realized he was most likely the one in the wrong and that Karina was a fucking bitch. He had come to that solid conclusion five days prior when he finally decided it was time to confront her.

“Oh my God, what the fuck? Seriously, where have you been? What happened? You literally just disappeared,” Karina ran over to him once she saw him at the café he told her to meet him at.

Even looking at her face made Heeseung want to vomit. “I heard what you did.”

Karina frowned, not understanding what he was saying as she took a seat across from him. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N told me about what you did at the library.” Heeseung tried his best to keep his tone even, attempting to mask the rage he was feeling toward her.

Karina nervously laughed, trying to brush it off. So, he was with you while he ghosted her. “Oh yeah, I ran into her and Jake trying to get it on at the back of the library. Isn’t that fucking insane, like in public like that?”

Heeseung wasn’t in any mood to entertain her. He was already at a boiling point. “Cut the fucking bullshit. She also told me what you said to her at the grocery store. I don’t know what I did to make you think that we’re dating, but we’re not. I don’t even remotely like you.”

“What?” Karina was taken aback by his words. Sure, Heeseung was never as affectionate and loving towards her as he was with you, but she thought she had made good progress in getting him to fall for her.

“Yeah, so I swear to God if I hear you telling anyone else that we’re dating, I will get a fucking restraining order. You have been nothing more than an easy lay for me to get my mind off Y/N this whole time. I let you hang around me because I felt bad, but that’s over now, especially since I realized you’ve been lying to everyone, including me, about everything.”

Karina’s face paled as she took in his words. She opened her mouth to say something, but he didn’t give her a chance. “Also, you’re delusional if you think you’re even comparable to Y/N, much less better than her. Go learn how to actually suck a dick before going around telling anyone that. Seriously, fuck off, and don’t ever talk to me or my friends again.”

Heeseung took off right after that, leaving Karina sitting alone at the table. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest as he stormed out of the cafe. Since then, he’d been planning a way to get you to hear him out. The only thing he could come up with was outsourcing, and in this case, that meant trying to reach you through the people you hung around.

It was a no-brainer that trying to talk to Ryujin and actually getting her to hear him out would be harder than getting you to talk to him again, so that was out of the question, which left him with only one other choice.

Just standing in front of the apartment was making him pissed, but he knew this was probably his best bet. He let out a big sigh before knocking loudly. He waited a couple of seconds, and after a bit, he wondered if he should knock again, but before he could, the door opened.

“What the fuck?”

Heeseung was the last person Jake would have expected to be on the other side of the door, and it caught him severely off guard.

Heeseung hadn’t seen Jake since he beat him at your mother’s garden party, and while it seemed that any previous marks left on his face from the fight were gone, Heeseung still felt bad. Okay, well, actually he didn’t feel that bad because he was still beyond pissed at Jake. Heeseung had by now come to the conclusion that you were most likely telling the truth about not cheating on him, but it still didn’t change the fact that Jake had fucked you who knows how many times after the two of you broke up.

Jake had always been a very close friend of his since childhood, and if Heeseung was being honest, in high school there were a good number of times when he couldn’t help but find himself envying his friend. It was kind of always known in your friend group that Heeseung had always had a tiny bit of a crush on you. So, when it became known that Jake had been the one to take your virginity, Heeseung was beyond crushed. In fact, he had avoided Jake for a good week, too envious of the fact that it wasn’t him who had been your first. But he was quickly able to get (mostly) over it as he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t surprised; you and Jake had always been the closest. But now, knowing that Jake had broken bro code made that resentment resurface, and he wasn’t sure if it was going away anytime soon (if ever).

“I need to talk to you,” Heeseung reluctantly said.

“Fuck no,” Jake responded with a condescending laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened as he pleaded, “Jake, please.”

Jake stared him down, scrutinizing every aspect of him, clearly enjoying Heeseung's desperation. “Why? Y/N told me what happened on Monday. You’re a fucking asshole.”

“You don’t think I don’t know that? That’s why I’m here. Just let me in,” Heeseung said, his patience wearing thin.

“What’s in it for me?” Jake crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. Heeseung could tell he was relishing the sight of him getting so desperate.

“You already got to fuck my girlfriend as many times as you wanted. Don’t you think that’s enough?” Heeseung gritted his teeth, his voice tight with anger.

Jake rolled his eyes but opened the door, letting Heeseung in. “You know she’s not your girlfriend anymore, right?”

If Heeseung wasn’t so determined to win you back, he would have had no issue punching Jake in the face again. But he needed Jake’s help, so he held back and tried his best it ignore him.

“I need your help,” Heeseung said, crossing his arms and facing Jake.

Jake barely glanced at him as he headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of what Heeseung assumed was a protein shake. He started to shake it, more focused on his drink, acting almost as if Heeseung wasn’t even there. “You’re funny if you think I’m going to help you with anything.”

Heeseung sighed once again, watching Jake’s dismissive attitude. God, Jake was such a dick. “I know I fucked up.”

“Yeah? Took you long enough to realize.”

“I need help getting her back.” Jake let out a derisive snort that he didn’t even bother to hide.

“Holy shit, you’re delusional. What makes you think I’d help you?” Jake’s laughter was infuriating, and Heeseung started to regret coming here.

“Jake, I know what I did. I know there’s nothing that can fully make up for it, but I need Y/N back. I’m begging you, man, I need your help.” Heeseung’s pride was at rock bottom, but he didn’t care. If this was what he had to let go of to win back the love of his life, so be it.

“You literally cheated on her. Why the fuck would I help someone who cheated on her try to win her back? You don’t deserve her.” Heeseung couldn’t deny it anymore; he had emotionally cheated on you, whether he intended to or not and it sickened him to realize that he was responsible for your pain.

“I know I don’t deserve her, and I also realize what I did and how I’m responsible for everything. I know now that the last month before we broke up was terrible for her, and I was a complete asshole. I didn’t mean to hurt her; everything just spiraled so quickly that I didn’t have time to process it. I swear I’m not trying to make excuses—there aren’t any. But the last three months have been hell for me. You don’t understand how empty I’ve felt, how much it’s all hurt. Hearing that you two came back together from wherever you guys were fucked me up so badly that I ended up taking it out on you, and I’m sorry for that—it was fucked up. But what I’m trying to say is that this whole summer has made me realize just how much I need her. Seeing her again has only made that clearer. I should have listened to her that night, but I was so blinded by anger about you two that I lost control, and you have no idea how much I fucking regret it. Talking to her last week made me see just how badly I fucked up, and I guess I was too caught up in Karina’s lies to accept the truth. I know I don’t deserve her, but please, I just need one last chance to make things right.” Heeseung’s sincerity was evident in every word, and Jake could tell that this was something Heeseung had been tormenting himself over for a while.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Jake said honestly. “I don’t even know how I can help. This is between you two.”

He hadn’t expected Heeseung to lay everything out so openly, and he was a bit taken aback. But Jake still struggled to fully support Heeseung. He knew how miserable and broken you had been after the breakup, and he wasn’t sure he could let you go through something like that again.

“I just need her to know that I’m sorry and to hear me out just once more. I know I don’t deserve it, but please. This was all I thought about this entire week, and I don’t know what else to do. I mean I came all the way over here to you of all people because of how desperate I am. I know you don’t owe me anything, especially after everything, but please, I’m begging you. Help me out, man.” Heeseung’s eyes were filled with desperation, and Jake let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Is Karina still in the picture?”

“Fuck no, and I made sure she understood. She’s literally the worst mistake I ever made, and I should’ve known better. I just didn’t think she’d take it this far, but I swear, there was nothing between us to begin with. She just caught me at a vulnerable time and took advantage of it. I fully acknowledge the mess I made in the month leading up to Y/N and me breaking up, and I know it’s probably too late now, but please, Jake. Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You of all people should know that, so I can’t just let this go without trying one more time.”

Heeseung couldn’t even lift his head to face Jake anymore, his eyes focused on his trembling fingers. The shame of his actions weighed heavily on him, and admitting it all out loud took a lot out of him.

A few seconds of silence passed, and Heeseung assumed Jake was deliberating. With each passing second, his anxiety spiked, and he desperately wished Jake would say something, anything.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but okay,” Jake said, his tone heavy with disbelief. Heeseung’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. “There’s no guarantee this will even work, but I’ll try something. Just know that I’m not taking this lightly. If you mess it up again, I’ll fucking kill you. I’m not kidding. The moment I see Karina anywhere near you, you’re dead. I’m only doing this because I know how much you meant to her and how miserable she’s been without you.”

Heeseung’s smile stretched so wide it made his cheeks hurt, but he didn’t care. “Thank you so much. Seriously, thank you, man. I really owe you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jake said, rolling his eyes at how excited Heeseung was. “But if Y/N isn’t having it, there’s literally nothing else I can do. So don’t get your hopes up.”

“No, I get it. Seriously, thank you so much. And I’m genuinely sorry for everything. It was fucked up for me to fight you like that.” Heeseung wasn’t sure if things with their friend group would ever return to normal, but he’d be lying if he denied that he missed having his friends around. A small bit of him kind of hoped this might be a step in the right direction of maybe getting everything back to normal.

“Yeah, whatever. I guess I kind of deserved it for sleeping with your girl,” Jake said with a hint of sarcasm.

Okay, maybe Heeseung wasn’t entirely fine with Jake being around like before as he felt one of his eyes twitch in irritation at the reminder of Jake being in your bed all summer, but he pushed the thought aside. “Just don’t make it a habit.”

“We’ll see. Don’t fuck it up.”

Heeseung felt another twitch in his eye. Maybe he wasn’t entirely over the idea of killing Jake Sim.

You had been sort of in a weird state of limbo where it seemed that a part of you was still wallowing in the sadness that came after the whole fight with Heeseung in your apartment but also there was also a part of you that was just kind of irritated with everything and you weren’t sure how to get yourself free from this state.

And it seemed the latter was taking over your current state as you let out a grunt of frustration as you attempted to hit the ball over the net, only for it to get caught and cause you to lose. Shouts of amusement came from across the court as you sneered in annoyance.

“Ha! Dinner’s on you! Oh, princess you fucking suck at this.” Jake was a little too happy about your loss as he giggled around the court.

Sweat drenched the both of you as the setting sun’s heat blazed relentlessly down the two of you. “You know that I’m usually good! You’re just better today I guess.”

You sheepishly shrugged before chugging your water from your water bottle on the side, the cold liquid instantly quenching your thirst. You were so ready to leave and get food.

“You just got unlucky that Sunghoon wasn’t here. There’s no doubt he’d be buying dinner. I’ve never seen someone worse at pickleball than he is.” You both let out a small laugh thinking about your mutual friend and his lack of athleticism.

"Yeah, honestly, I know he said he was sick or something, but I bet he just said that to dodge paying for dinner," you muttered, tossing your keys at Jake after packing up your paddle and balls. "You're driving, though."

He caught the keys without protest, shrugging as he followed you to the car. After unlocking it, he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately grimacing. “Jesus, what the fuck is this seat positioning?”

“Leave me alone, it’s my car,” you rolled your eyes, watching as he adjusted the seat to his liking.

“Too nice of a car for such a shitty driver like you,” he snorted, making you gasp in offense.

But before you could fire anything back, he quickly switched the subject. "So, who's Ryujin going on a date with tonight?"

"Some new European exchange student, I think his name’s Armand? Not sure, but I’m pretty sure he’s French."

"Where the hell is she finding all these European guys?" Jake shook his head.

Pickleball was usually a doubles match with you, Jake, Sunghoon, and Ryujin, but Sunghoon had bailed, claiming he was sick (though you weren’t convinced), and Ryujin was off on her date.

"I think he's in her finance class—or at least that’s what Yujin said. But yeah, she clearly has a type," you snorted, sending Ryujin a quick text to see how the date was going.

"That’s an understatement. I’m surprised she got over Louis that fast. And how the hell does Yujin still know everything about everyone despite being abroad for a whole semester?"

The circle you and your family had always been surrounded by was small, a natural outcome of the exclusive lifestyle the upper echelon of society led—one not easily accessible to just anyone. This circle was even tighter at your school, where everyone with status seemed to gravitate. As soon as someone new entered the fold, it took only a few days for word to spread, and soon enough, everyone knew everything about them, especially if they came from a similarly privileged background. So it was no surprise that even after studying abroad in Italy for 6 months, Yujin still managed to stay in the loop.

“You know you don’t actually have to be on campus to keep up with everything,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

It was frustrating, sometimes even invasive, to know that every move you made was watched and analyzed, but it seemed to be the price you and your friends paid for the lives you led.

Jake hummed in agreement, and for a few moments, the car was uncharacteristically quiet. It was unusual—Jake was never one to keep his mouth shut, so his silence could only mean one thing.

"Ugh, what?" you groaned, turning your phone off and shifting your focus to his profile.

Jake shot you a brief look of confusion before turning his attention back to the road. "What?"

"Just spit it out." You knew all too well that when Jake went quiet, it meant he was holding back something important—and more often than not, it wasn’t good news.

He gave you another glance, this one doing nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach, before letting out a long sigh. "So, the other day, someone came to see me."

You raised an eyebrow, sensing that he was trying to drag this out. It couldn’t be good. "Oh my God, just tell me already. Who was it?"

Jake took a few more seconds before finally answering. “Heeseung.”

Your ex’s name was the last thing you expected to hear. “What?”

“Yeah, someone knocked, and when I opened the door, there he was, just standing there.” Jake’s slow pace was driving you insane—you just wanted him to get to the point.

“Just tell me what he wanted. Did he try to fight you again? Because I swear to God—”

“No! No, it wasn’t anything like that. He didn’t come to start anything; he just asked for a favor.” Jake nervously bit his lip, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. He clearly didn’t want to tell you what Heeseung was really after.

“Jake, just get to the fucking point. What did he ask for?”

“Okay fine, he wanted me to talk to you about maybe hearing him out again.” Jake grimaced as he revealed Heeseung's request, sensing that the silence on your end was not a good sign. “Ugh, please Y/N, say something.”

You didn’t know if you should be fuming or surprised. Maybe both. “What did you say?”

Your calm tone caught Jake off guard as he turned into the Thai restaurant you’d chosen for dinner, parking before facing you. “Okay, you can’t be mad, but I agreed.”

Your mouth opened in protest, anger filling your eyes, but he rushed on before you could interrupt. “Just listen. You know me—I wouldn’t agree to something like this, especially with him, unless I really thought he deserved it. After I listened to him, I could see how genuine he was. I know he was a dick on Monday, but he came to me desperate and genuinely sorry. He wouldn’t have approached me of all people if he wasn’t serious.I know how much he hurt you, but I also see how unhappy you are without him. This might not be the worst thing for you two. Plus, Karina’s definitely out of the picture—Heeseung looked furious talking about her and promised he wouldn’t associate with her again.”

You processed everything slowly, staring at Jake. “He hurt me so bad,” was all you could manage as you shook your head, struggling to accept what your best friend was telling you.

Jake’s eyes softened at your reaction. “I know, Y/N. He’s still a total asshole, but deep down, you know that not having him around hurts even more. I didn’t promise him anything, and I won’t ever force you to talk to him. Honestly, if I had my way, I’d keep him far away from you. But I know you, and I see how badly all this unresolved feeling is fucking with you. I don’t want that for you. So just know this is an option. It doesn’t have to be now, or next week, or even this month. But if you ever feel ready to talk to him again—especially now that it seems like you both understand what happened—he’s willing to apologize. I’ll even be there with you if you want.”

Jake was right, and you hated that. Deep down, you knew this unresolved pain would eat you alive. Heeseung had always been part of your life, and having him ripped away, even for just a couple of months, was agonizing. You didn’t know if you could just cut him out completely, so you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

Heeseung honestly had little faith that Jake would keep his promises, but he still held onto a sliver of hope. Yet, as the weeks passed with no word from you, that hope began to dwindle. After a month had gone by without any communication, he was on the verge of accepting that he had ruined the most important thing in his life. Just as he was about to let it go, fortune finally smiled on him: he spotted you outside, nervously biting your lip as you waited for his class to end. A grin spread across his face the moment your eyes met, and he walked toward you.

“Hey,” he greeted softly.

His smile made your heart race, and it was annoying to realize that he still had that effect on you after everything that had happened. “Hey, I was wondering if you were busy. I think I’m ready to talk.”

Heeseung mentally noted to give Jake the biggest thank you ever. Despite his doubts about Jake's ability to follow through, he couldn't be more grateful to be proven wrong.

“Yeah, of course. This is my last class of the day,” he said, eagerly nodding as you both walked out of the building.

“Oh great, I wasn’t sure about your schedule, so I was just hoping I got lucky and you were free.” The awkward tension between you was palpable. “Do you want to grab lunch? I can drive if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. Jay drove us today, but I’ll just text him that he doesn’t have to worry about me.” Heeseung couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face. It was amazing how much your presence lifted his spirits. You were like a ray of sunshine, and just being able to look at you felt pretty fucking incredible.

You shot him a small smile before nodding, leading him to your car. “Okay, perfect.”

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, with barely any words exchanged until you both placed your orders.

Knowing that silence would make everything feel pointless, you mustered the courage to clear your throat and initiate the conversation. “Jake told me you really wanted to talk to me again.”

Heeseung nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I really didn’t think he’d actually help, but I’m so glad he did. I hope you didn’t feel forced or anything—that’s the last thing I want. If you ever feel that way during this conversation, I would completely understand if you just walked away.”

You nodded, recognizing the sincerity in his words. It gave you reassurance about his intentions. “I wasn’t forced or anything, but it did take some time. Honestly, I didn’t want to hear you out again, especially since last time ended badly. But I’ve had time to think, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to do this, at least for myself, to move forward from everything.”

“I’m really glad you gave me a chance to talk to you again. Y/N, I know this might not mean much to you, but I truly want to say I’m sorry.” Heeseung sighed before continuing, “I’ve had time to reflect on everything, and I’ve realized that what I did was unfair to you and hurt you in ways I never intended. None of this was your fault, and I’m so sorry for putting you through that.”

Hearing those words felt like a wave of relief washed over your aching heart. It was as if you had been yearning to hear him acknowledge your pain, and his sincere apology felt like a crucial step toward healing. Yet, one lingering question held you back.

“Why did you do it?” you asked softly, almost afraid to voice it. You noticed Heeseung’s eyes soften at your words.

He sat in silence, contemplating your question. Why had he abandoned you during the last month of your relationship?

“I’m not sure,” he blinked, his brow furrowing in distress. “I know that’s not a good enough answer, but honestly, I don’t even think I understand it myself. I really don’t want this to sound like an excuse, but I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. That project consumed so much of my time, and unfortunately, that meant spending all those hours with Karina. It became a routine, and I thought it would help me finish the class with a good grade. I never stopped to consider if Karina had ulterior motives, and I’m so sorry—I never thought about how this would affect you.”

You were unsure how to process his words, but you appreciated his honesty and let him continue. “I didn’t mean to blow you off or prioritize the project, which ended up meaning prioritizing Karina over you. That was never my intention. I hope you understand that I never saw her as a replacement or thought she was better than you in any way, especially not romantically. I swear nothing happened between us until after you left for your trip. Even then, I was just so angry, and she happened to be there. She was only an outlet for my frustration, and I know that’s probably not what you want to hear, but I can’t deny that something happened. I just need you to know that aside from the physical, there was nothing else with her.”

Heeseung grimaced as he admitted all this. The weight of his actions felt unbearable, and when he saw your face—so sad, struggling to hold it together—it made him feel even worse. He hated that he was the cause of your pain.

You nodded slowly, your chest tightening as you absorbed his words and another sigh left your mouth. “That last month was so unbearable for me. It was literally hell. You have no idea how many nights I spent blaming myself, thinking I drove you to another girl. But what hurt even more was the aftermath. I’ve known you for so long, and I never realized how much you meant to my life until you were just… gone. I felt so lost without you.”

“It was the same for me. Y/N, you’ve been the love of my life since we were kids. You’ve always been my dream and literally everyone around us knows how much you’ve always meant to me. I’ve dated around and hooked up with other people but at the end of the day, I just kept coming back to you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re my home. That’s why I had to take this chance—to see you again, to beg you to hear me out one last time.” His voice trembled, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you felt the weight of his desperation. Your heart ached, torn between the pain of the past and the flicker of hope in his eyes.

He reached over to take your hand in his, the warmth of his familiar touch sending a jolt through you. A small, hopeful smile broke through his anxiety. “I love you, Y/N. I truly believe you’re it for me. But if you need me to let you go, I’ll do it. I’d do anything to see you happy.”

“Heeseung…” The words barely escaped your lips before tears started streaming down your cheeks. You couldn’t hold back your emotions, even in this crowded place. His confession pierced through the defenses you had built, reaching deep into the empty spaces you didn’t even know existed. You remembered all the pain he had caused, the scars still fresh, and yet, despite everything, he was still your Heeseung. Your heart ached with the undeniable truth that he was your destined other half, and you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go completely.

In that moment, amidst the whirlwind of your emotions, the right path became unmistakably clear. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your feelings shift into something resolute. With trembling hands, you squeezed his. This wasn’t just about forgiveness; it was about embracing the possibility of healing together. “I can’t let you go, not now,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Let’s find our way back.”

No one had ever warned you how difficult it truly was to rebuild something broken, even with someone you’d known your entire life. But now, standing on the other side of that struggle, as you watched the pieces of your relationship with Heeseung slowly fall back into place, you realized that every effort had been worth it. The awkward silences, the tentative steps, and the raw vulnerability—it had all led to this unexpected peace. Months ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you not only that you’d be back together, but that you’d be more in love with Heeseung than ever before. Yet, against all odds, here you were—more sure of him, more connected, and somehow, more in love than you ever thought possible.

It had been two weeks since that lunch, two weeks since you both decided to give things another shot. Although hesitation still hung between you, trust was slowly rebuilding, and you could feel the progress with every passing day. The real breakthrough came when you got solid proof that Karina was no longer a looming threat. It seemed that Heeseung’s rejection hit her harder than anyone expected, leading her to pack up and flee to her family’s summer home in Lake Como. Word spread quickly that she was taking a semester off to “heal” from all the so-called negative toxicity, but honestly, you couldn’t care less. And it seemed that it wasn’t just you—everyone in your circle seemed to be rejoicing the second her plane left the tarmac, collectively exhaling as though they’d been holding their breath for months. Her departure felt like the final nail in the coffin of a drama that had dragged on far too long, and for the first time in a while, you felt truly free from the chaos.

You and Heeseung had agreed to take things slow, both afraid to fuck up the fragile foundation of your newly rekindled relationship. While you often found yourself holding back more than you were used to, the fresh start was also exciting, like falling in love all over again. The honeymoon phase was in full swing, and honestly, you were soaking it up. So much so that it seemed your entire friend group—finally restored, thank God (you were sure you’d even seen Jay shed a tear when he was reunited with Sunghoon)—was playfully revolting at how inseparable you and Heeseung had become. But despite the jokes, everyone was genuinely thrilled to see you two back together. Even the soft launch on Instagram stirred enough commotion that your mom called, confused. But you didn’t care about anyone’s reactions, because for the first time in a long time, you were truly happy.

“I’m surprised your little purse dog isn’t with you,” Yujin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as she appeared out of nowhere, making you jump.

“What?” You shot her a confused look.

“Heeseung! He’s like your own little purse dog these days. I don’t think I’ve seen you two apart since you got back together,” she teased, giving you a smug grin before snatching your drink from your hand and taking a big swig.

You snatched it right back, rolling your eyes. “That is not true!”

But the grin on your face betrayed you—you knew exactly what she meant.

Your half-hearted attempts to deny her claims were cut short when yet another voice chimed in, startling you once again. "Nah, Yujin's right. You two are capital C clingy."

"Stop sneaking up on me!" you groaned, shaking your head at both Ryujin and Yujin. They, of course, found your irritation hilarious. Before you could protest further, Ryujin also reached over and grabbed your drink, taking a long sip without hesitation.

"Oh my God, just take it!" you exclaimed, shaking your head in disbelief. You turned to grab a fresh cup, already resigned to making yourself another drink.

"But seriously, where is Heeseung?" Ryujin asked, glancing around the packed house, her eyes scanning the crowd for your boyfriend.

Jake had thrown a party to celebrate Karina’s dramatic exit, and it seemed like everyone you knew had shown up. His place was absolutely massive so it was insane to see the entire place bursting with people, not a single corner empty.

You shrugged as you added ice to your drink. "Not sure, I saw Jay dragging him out to the pool. I think they’re playing beer pong. You guys do realize we haven’t been together every second, right?”

Yujin scoffed. "You sure about that?t At least from what I’ve been seeing I’m having a hard time believing that."

“Yeah, babe, I don’t think there’s been a single day this week you haven’t been with him,” Ryujin added. But when she noticed a slight frown tugging at your lips, she quickly backpedaled. “But that’s not a bad thing! You guys are back together, and honestly, you seem so much happier and more in love. We’re happy for you.”

Yujin nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s cute. Almost sickeningly so. But seriously, we’re all just glad you two are happy again.”

Right on cue, you felt a familiar arm wrap around your waist from behind. You knew instantly who it was. “Aww, that’s so sweet, Yujin. Glad we have your support,” Heeseung teased, reaching out to fist-bump her.

"Were you out playing beer pong?" you asked, glancing up at Heeseung.

He nodded with a grin. "Yeah, Sunghoon and I absolutely annihilated Jay and Jake. Those two suck every single time, but they keep teaming up like they’ve got something to prove. Not that I’m complaining—it just means we keep winning. The loser had to admit the other’s dog was better, and Sunghoon had Jake practically in tears, saying Gaeul was superior to Layla. It was almost cruel. Layla’s literally upstairs, and he ran right up to apologize to her."

Ryujin snorted. "You guys are such kids. What kind of punishment even is that?"

"Hey, I’ll have you know that when it comes to Gaeul, I’d put my fucking life on the line for her!" Sunghoon appeared out of nowhere, clearly having overheard the mention of his beloved dog.

"Yeah, don’t mess with his dog. It’s, like, actually serious for him," Heeseung added, backing up his friend with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but smile. It felt so good to have everyone back together, the easy banter flowing like it always had. The boys, especially, had clearly missed each other. Things were a bit tense between Heeseung and Jake at first, but once Sunghoon and Jay rejoined the group, it felt like no time had passed at all. Of course, Heeseung wasted no time making it clear that you were off-limits now, even threatening that he’d shave Jake’s hair off if he so much as thought about crossing that line—and judging by Jake’s face, it was a threat he took seriously.

As Sunghoon passionately defended his dog, you felt Heeseung's arm tighten around your waist. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I don’t know about you, but I can think of something way better than listening to Sunghoon go on about his dog’s honor,” he whispered, his voice laced with mischief. “How about we check out one of the way-too-many bedrooms upstairs?”

The suggestion came with that familiar cheeky tone, and you didn’t need any convincing. Without a word, the two of you quietly slipped away from the group, who were still caught up in their conversation about pets. Heeseung was right—there were far too many rooms in this house, but luckily you knew exactly where to find a quiet, empty one.

Your body hadn’t even fully crossed the threshold before Heeseung captured your lips with a fervor you hadn’t felt since Hyunjin’s party. When you said that you and Heeseung were committed to taking your relationship slowly, you truly meant it. Sure, the two of you had made it to third base, but you had intentionally held back from rushing into sex, wanting to protect the delicate balance of your relationship. Yet, in that moment, it was clear that neither of you was opposed to going all the way. You both had been holding back for far too long.

Shutting the door behind you, he slammed you flat against the it as his tongue explored inside your mouth. You were panting against his lips as you reached for his clothes. It was obvious neither of you were particularly interested in taking it slow.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” Heeseung didn't hold back his groan as his hand pulled your top over your breasts and cupped one in his hand, groping it as he deepened the kiss. You scratched a hand against the nape of his neck eliciting another low groan from him while his lips trailed down from your lips down to your neck. His touches had never felt better and you were yearning to feel him closer and deeper.

While his lips worked their way down, you didn’t waste any time pulling your leather pants down, revealing the same pair of black thongs that you had been wearing the last time the two of you had sex and Heeseung groaned against your skin once he realized.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” You giggled at his response and quickly tugged him towards the bed, leaving behind a trail of clothes as the two of you continued to get rid of your clothes until you were left bare.

Your hands firmly gripped his shoulders once he had finally stripped and you pushed him down on the bed as you also went down on your knees. His mouth was slightly agape as his eyes twinkled at the realization of what was happening.

“I’ve missed your cock so bad,” you purred before letting a wad of spit fall from your mouth and straight on his rock-hard dick.

His eyes instantly rolled back when your hands wrapped themselves around his length and worked their way up and down, adopting a steady tempo. Your eyes never left his face as you held a determined look in your eyes, eager to please him.

“Fuck, just like that,” Heeseung barely managed to pant out as his eyes connected with yours.

You couldn’t hold back a smile. Knowing that your touches had him falling apart like this in pleasure had you growing overcome with lust. There was not a better sight than the one in front of you and you couldn’t break away from witnessing his every reaction even as you slowly started to lick his tip.

He was panting hard as he watched you lick up and down his shaft before swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip that was dripping with precum. And when you sunk down, allowing his dick to find its place in your warm tight throat, his hands went straight to the back of your head, pushing you further down and inciting you to choke on his length.

It’d been a while since you’d deep-throated anything and you felt the tears instantly prick at your eyes as you gagged around his thick cock. You concentrated hard, closing your eyes to ease your throat as you slowly started to bob your head.

Saliva escaped down the corners of your mouth as the tears were now fully escaping your eyes. The filthy sounds of you gagging filled the room along with Heeseung’s deep grunts. His hands were fully pushing your head down as he thrust up, yearning for you to take him deeper. You tried your best to swallow around his as you searched for air, but he was relentless and pushed you until you couldn’t take anymore and had to slap the sides of his thighs for respite.

“Jesus Christ, Heeseung!” You gasped for air before coughing when he finally let you go, realizing how brutal he had been treating your throat.

“Shit, sorry,” his eyes were wide as he reached for your face, pushing your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “It’s been so long and you felt so good, I’m so sorry-”

“Shut up,” you shook your head as you pushed him back on the bed. You ignored his apologies and quickly got on top of him, ignoring the fact that you had just been brutally choking on your boyfriend’s dick.

You were already dripping wet and Heeseung’s eyes couldn’t take his eyes away from your glistening pussy hovering over his dick. His hands guided themselves to your hips and you slowly teased him as you rubbed the tip of his dick at your entrance.

“Please,” he pleaded desperately and that was all you needed to hear before you slowly sunk yourself down his length.

The two of you let out groans and you couldn’t help but heavily pant as you went lower, feeling him deeper in you. You felt so full that it felt like you could feel him all the way up your throat. Heeseung was massive and despite having loads of experience riding him, every time it felt like almost too much for you as your body felt like it was being stretched beyond its limit.

“Fuck, you’re too big,” you whimpered as you felt your body slumping over his, trying your best to get adjusted to his side.

His mouth found yours as he passionately kissed you while his hands found your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “You’re taking me so well princess.”

As he praised you, you found yourself slowly attempting to move your hips and before you knew it, you were moaning against his lips as you moved up and down his length. The pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn’t stop. The stretch still stung, but the pleasure that came with it was more than anything you could’ve asked for.

“Heeseung,” you moaned out loudly as his hips thrust up to meet yours, forcing you to feel him deeper.

The room was filled with your wanton moans that didn’t stop chanting his name and the sounds of his balls slapping roughly against your pussy. His grunts were getting animalistic and before you knew it, he had flipped the two of you over changing the position and taking over.

‘Oh my God!” You screeched as he moved your legs to hang over his shoulders, causing the new position to allow him to reach you deeper if that was even possible.

He relentlessly pounded against your sweet spot, “You feel so fucking good. Perfect pussy made just for me.”

His dirty talk had you whimpering and you found yourself reaching down for your clit quickly rubbing it, helping you reach your orgasm faster.

“I’m almost there don’t stop,” you instructed, and with a couple more hard thrusts, you found yourself loudly crying out as you found yourself reaching your peak.

You clung to him tightly as you rode out your orgasm and could feel him twitch inside you before also cumming closely after. He filled you to the brim with his cum as you limply laid there taking everything he gave you. Once he was finished, he slowly pulled out inciting a small whimper from you and you could feel all his cum slowly pouring out of you and down your leg.

Heeseung, seemingly just as worn out as you were, plopped right next to you before pulling you close to him, cuddling you. A huge smile formed on your face as you turned your head to face him and kiss him, someone pounded on the door.

“You two are so fucked for that! You do realize Layla’s room is right next door!”

Bonus:

It was unbelievable how fast time had flown, especially now, standing with all your closest friends in matching caps and gowns. You couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that you’d all made it through college in one piece, still tight-knit as ever. It was almost enough to bring you to tears—if you weren’t so distracted by how uncomfortable your dress had become under your gown. You kept fidgeting, trying to adjust it for a bit of relief.

“Stop wrinkling your dress!” your mother scolded, while busy straightening Jake’s tie.

“But no one’s even going to see the tie under the gown,” Jake whined, only for your mom to shoot him a stern look that silenced him immediately as she returned to perfecting his outfit.

True to her word, your mom had finally gotten Jake head to toe in one of her custom pieces (minus the cap and gown). “I don’t care if anyone sees it or not. You are not wearing one of my designs without it being flawless,” she insisted, focused on making sure everything was perfect.

You could hear the quiet snickers behind you, and without even turning around, you knew Sunghoon and Ryujin were loving every second of this. They had already survived your mother’s meticulous once-over and were now relishing in watching the rest of you squirm under her scrutiny.

"Yeah, come on Jake, stop being so fussy. You should be grateful she's even doing this for you," Heeseung chimed in, grinning. His playful jab at Jake was laced with just enough sweetness to win over your mom—or at least, that was the plan.

Your mom still hadn’t entirely forgiven Heeseung for the disaster he caused at her garden party, and her approval of your rekindled relationship was, at best, tentative. But it was clear she was slowly warming up, especially with the way Heeseung never missed a chance to flatter her.

“Alright, now you look presentable. Don’t you dare mess with it during the ceremony,” your mom finally declared, stepping back to give Jake a final once-over. She then turned her sharp gaze on the rest of you, making sure everyone else met her high standards.

You exchanged a glance with Sunghoon and Ryujin, who were both barely holding in their laughter. They clearly found your mom’s unofficial role as wardrobe enforcer far more amusing from the sidelines.

“Oh, you all look so beautiful,” your mother said, her smile softening in a way you weren’t used to. The warmth in her gaze caught you off guard, and suddenly, the stuffiness of your dress was the last thing on your mind. As your eyes met hers, the reality of the moment hit you—graduation day, surrounded by your closest friends, all of you about to step into the next chapter of your lives. You could feel the emotions welling up, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you took in the sight of everyone in their caps and gowns.

Heeseung, as if sensing your shift in mood, gently tugged your hand into his, threading your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and gave you a reassuring smile, grounding you just when you needed it most.

“Come on, let’s take a picture before we leave,” you suggested, grabbing Heeseung's hand and motioning to your friends.

Your group huddled close, arms draped over each other, laughter bubbling up as your mom snapped away on her phone. Heeseung’s arm stayed firmly around your waist, keeping you close while you smiled for the camera. The joy of the moment, the closeness of your friends, felt like the perfect snapshot of how far you had all come.

As soon as the last picture was taken, everyone started to drift toward the stadium for the commencement ceremony. You watched as the crowd began to gather under the soft glow of the setting sun. After a quick hug and goodbye to your mom, you turned to follow your friends toward the entrance gates.

Just before you could step through the gates, Heeseung gently pulled you aside, his fingers brushing your arm. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “I couldn’t have done any of this without you. I’m proud of us.”

His words made your heart swell, emotions bubbling up in a way that almost took your breath away. You looked up at him, your smile soft and full of everything you’d been through together. “I am too,” you whispered back, a mixture of relief and joy filling your chest. “We made it.”

The air was cool, a gentle breeze lifting the corners of your graduation gown as you looked at Heeseung, remembering how uncertain things had once seemed. But now? Everything felt like it was finally falling into place. The obstacles and heartbreak had only made you both stronger.

As the sun began to set, Heeseung took your hand again, just like in the room earlier. This time, though, he brought it to his lips, brushing a light kiss across your knuckles before pulling you closer.

“I love you,” he said quietly, and it wasn’t a grand declaration—just a simple truth that felt completely genuine.

“I love you too,” you answered, your heart full.

Standing there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the future didn’t seem so intimidating anymore. It was uncertain, sure, but with Heeseung beside you, you felt ready for whatever was next.

TAGLIST: @notevenheretbh1 @leov3rse @slut4hee @llvrhee @simjungwon @lhspeachie @sakanelli-afc @rayofsunshineeee @deobitifull @iwaplant @mheretoreadff @farashawhee @skzenhalove @venfl-ifw @jaehoonii @melonvrs @enhastolemyheart @rainyjy @cha0thicpisces @love-be0m @niniissus

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #heeseung imagines #fic: psily

1K notes · View notes

2hightocare · 1 year ago

Text

ACQUAINTANCES!

Synopsis: Jungkook and you can only stand each other whenever you guys are fucking, well that’s what you guys thought initially.

Parings: fuckboy!jungkook x fuckgirl!reader

Genre: college au! fwb! e2l!

Warnings: smut!! Open ending, no confession. Rough sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it) Smut with just a tiny bit of plot if you squint, reader is a squirter (sorry not sorry) daddy/mommy kink, cussing, blowjob, reader crying from pleasure, jk is a dirty talker, banter, a lot of bickering from both of them, cute fluff at the end for Valentine’s Day!

a/n: hai my loves, i disappeared for a while.. I’ve been really busy with school at the moment. But I wrote this short pwp for all of you as a valentines gift before I lag again.. I’m trying to write an actual f1 driver!jk fic right now so sorry if I’m not updating as much…. But anywho enjoy my little gift<3⭐️

“That’s my good girl, fuck." He plunges deeper into you, hitting your spot repeatedly. His hand lays on your head, pushing you down into the mattress, your makeup smudged from sucking his cock, and tears stream down your face.

“Right there, baby, that’s it.” Jungkook pounds into you from behind; your legs are shaking, trying so hard not to give out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his cock spreads your walls deliciously. “Agh fuck.” You moan loudly, your mouth hanging open, drool spilling out onto the white sheets.

You reach behind you, pushing him off you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he watches your legs shake. Your breaths are heavy, and you are trying so hard to catch your breath. “Take it off.” You whine about the condom; you reach for Jungkook's cock and pull on the clear condom, taking it off.

“Want me to fuck you, raw princess?” Jungkook groans, grabbing the base of his cock, giving your pussy a few slaps with his length, making you clench over nothing. Jungkook uses one of his arms to pick you up and turn you around, your back pressed against the comfortable mattress. “Feels good, huh?” He asks as he slowly rubs your swollen, aching clit with his thumb. Jungkook watches your expression, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes cloudy, trying so hard to keep them open, his hand reaching to your tear-stained cheeks, squeezing them, making your mouth form a kiss.

“What do you say?” Jungkook asks as you slowly nod your head. You were fucked dumb, and he knew that, which made him chuckle softly. He could tell from how you couldn’t even answer the question or even fight him for it like you usually do.

“Speak up; use your words, baby.” Jungkook smirks, giving your cheeks a light slap before squeezing them again. “Feels so good.” You slur, and you squeeze your legs together to relieve some of the tension your center is feeling. You have come four times now, and Jungkook none.

“Good girl.” Jungkook says before helping you sit up as he leans against the header, his hard laying on his stomach. Jungkook is packed, to say the least; even when he’s soft, you can see his imprint in his underwear.

It scared you at first when he pulled it out because, how the fuck was that going to fit in you? You swear you almost got up and left.

“That’s not going to fit.” You say, your pointer finger pointing at his thick length in his hand. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jungkook chuckles, and you give him a glare back instead, showing that you are serious. “It’s going to fit; we’ll make it fit, baby.” He grins. "Plus, you can take four fingers; you’ll be fine.” He comes closer to you and says, "It’ll feel so good, I promise.” He whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your back.

You crawl your way to him, stopping between his legs; his eyes bore into yours. “You’re so pretty.” He compliments you, swiping his thumb on your bottom lip. “Fuck off, you just want your dick sucked.” You roll your eyes, grabbing the base of his cock. Your small hand, not even being able to wrap around his cock, always sent Jungkook a sense of pride to his chest.

“Gon’ suck daddy’s cock?” Jungkook moves your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “If you call yourself daddy one more time, I will bite your dick; don’t try me.” You glare up at him. "Well, isn’t she back? Not even five minutes ago, you were calling me daddy.” Jungkook chuckles at your expression. You looked hot with his cock inches away from your face, slightly twitching, waiting to be sucked.

You and Jungkook had history; to say the least, you both kind of hated each other. If it wasn’t because he said something you didn’t like, it was because he breathed a little too loudly around you.

Just something about his smug face looking at you and throwing snarky comments had you wanting to claw your acrylics into his skin. Which was something Jungkook loved; he loved watching you roll your eyes every time you saw him, and he absolutely loved it when you fought back with him.

You had no clue how you ended up throwing insults at him every five seconds whenever he would show up anywhere; you would say it was because he was a man whore. You heard from every girl on campus how good he fucked but left right after coming, or if they were lucky, he left before they woke up. But honestly, that really doesn’t matter now that you’re in his bed getting your guts rearranged almost every seven days of the week by him.

Jungkook doesn't hate you; he just loves challenging you. Plus, he thought the only way he could find himself talking and being closer to you meant arguing; he would take it. You are well known on campus as well; his friends warned him about you, but you were just his type. So who was he to throw out the possibility of having you in his bed?

You didn’t even know how you ended up becoming friends with benefits—something along the lines of a frat party, an angry make-out session, and sex in someone’s bed. Jungkook fucked you so good; you are hundred percent sure you passed out and saw stars.

What were strictly professional meetings? how you like to call them? Turned into sleepovers, hanging out, cuddling, and calling each other cute nicknames. You guys still fought; it was more like bickering now. What you both weren’t looking for was a catching feeling; it started as having sex whenever one of you was horny, but now you find yourself wanting to be with each other regardless if you guys’ had sex or not.

“Now I don’t want to suck your dick after you called yourself daddy; that’s such an ick.” You scrunch your nose, giving his cock a tug, making him bite his lip with a laugh.

“That’s an ick? Ick when you told me to call you mommy like a month ago.” Jungkook recalls making your eyes widen. “Stop, I was drunk.” You whine, rolling your eyes. “We both said we wouldn’t bring it up, plus I said it as in sugar mommy.” You try to explain yourself as Jungkook smiles down at you.

“Sugar mommy? I pay for everything, so just shut up." Jungkook chuckles, grabbing ahold of his cock, giving it a pump.

You only follow his movements with your eyes as your pussy oozes with your juices, your wetness dripping down your thighs. Jungkook presses his cock to your cheek before slapping it multiple times. “My favorite view—imagine this, but on my lock screen." Jungkook jokes, which makes you glare at him. “In your dreams.” You say.

“It’s definitely in my dreams,” he groans. Jungkook moves his dick to your lips before patting his length on them. “Open.” He orders, which you immediately do, taking his tip into your mouth.

"Agh,” he chokes in a moan as you suck on the swollen tip. You replace his hands with yours pumping in his shaft while you try to take as much as you can down your throat. “Fuck.” Jungkook throws his head back, and you bob your head up and down his cock.

“So big.” You breathe out before returning to bob your head at a fast pace. Drool accumulates in your cheeks, dripping down Jungkook's cock. “Don’t boost my ego more, baby.” Jungkook howls; his tattooed hand gets a hold of your head before pushing it down. You gag on his cock, but Jungkook doesn’t care as he continues to fuck into your mouth. “Aw shit, shit shit.” Jungkook moans with each thrust into your warm mouth.

Tears run down your cheeks as Jungkook uses your mouth. Your hands rest on his hip bones, tapping slightly whenever you need to breathe. “Right there, baby, that’s it.” Jungkook mumbles, his cock twitching in your mouth, meaning he’s close. Before he could come, he pulled your head off of him with a loud pop. Strings of saliva and pre-cum connect your mouth and his cock.

“Fuck!” Jungkook pumps his cock hurriedly, his eyes shut as strings of curse words leave his mouth. “Where do I come? Shit.” Jungkook moans, his abs flexing as his hips lift up with each thrust into his hand. “Tits.” You wipe your mouth, positioning yourself in front of him before he shoots strings of his sticky cum on your round boobs. “Ahh fuck.” Jungkook chokes on another moan, giving his cock one last pump.

His chest heaves as he tries so hard to catch his breath, peeking an eye open and seeing you on your knees with your tits adorned with his cum. You giggle at his state. “I think you just boosted my ego by putting ‘expert at giving head' in my resume.” You joke as his chest rumbles with laughter.

“The head game is strong. Who taught you that?” Jungkook asks, and an inch of jealousy pikes his chest as he thinks about you ever giving a blowjob to someone else that wasn’t him. “Myself, you can do so much with a dildo.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, running your hands down his chest. His cock twitches as he watches you lay back down on the bed, your legs spread open as an invitation.

“Have I told you how good of an idea it was to get this mattress? Yeah, this one is a lot nicer,” Jungkook says as he starts to hover over your much smaller frame. “Whenever we fuck, it doesn’t leave me with back pain,” he moans when he easily slides his cock in you from how wet you are, a sharp moan that leaves your throat.

“It's al- also comfy.” You moan between deep breaths as his cock hits your g-spot. “Yeah, yeah, whatever it’s comfortable to sleep on,” he chuckles as his eyes flutter shut when you clench around him, sending him deeper into you.

“Shit! tightest pussy ever.” His grip tightens on your thighs, which are pushed up by him. “Do you see how pretty your pussy looks being filled with my cock?” He motions to his length, buried deep inside you. The noticeable bulge on your tummy has him wanting to ram inside you without restraint.

He watches as you just hum with your eyes closed, “I said look.” Jungkook's hand gets a hold of your hair, pulling you upward, making you see his cock in you.

“I’m going to get a cramp because of you.” You moan as you watch his cock slowly slide out, making the bulge disappear before reappearing again when he slammed back, making your eyes shut with a scream. “You’ll be fine,” he laughs before slamming into you. The grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as your eyes vision is just his cock sliding in and out of your pussy over and over again.

“Open your eyes; come on, baby.” He gives your hair a little tug, making your eyes shoot open with your mouth wide open. “Fuck! Prettiest view, huh?” Jungkook's hips slam into you repeatedly.

“Ah, cramp,” you moan as he lets go of your hair, making you drop onto the mattress with a shake. His movements didn’t halt as he continued to fuck into you.

Jungkook holds onto your legs before powering into you. Your hands grip onto the sheets as the moans flow out of your mouth uncontrollably. Jungkook spreads your legs open before pressing his palm on your lower belly on his bulge, sending a sense of shock through your body. Jungkook feels your pussy tighten, which only meant one thing, “I’m going to squirt, oh fuck.” You rush out, trying so hard to push him off.

Jungkook found out you were squirted when he fucked you in the bathroom at a Christmas party. Your red skirt lifted up to your ass, and your Santa Claus hat held on for dear life with each thrust he slammed into you. You didn’t expect to leave the bathroom with a drenched shirt; you only laughed at his reaction.

Jungkook pulls out immediately, inserting three of his fingers in you before pounding them in and out of you. Your body spasms with each curl of his fingers inside you, sending spurts of liquid out of you with a scream. Your eye vision went blurry, and as your head went lightheaded from the immense pleasure you were feeling, your hands gripped so tightly on the sheets that they went white.

“Are you breathing?” Jungkook chuckles at your spent body on his bed. He gives your pussy a small slap before kissing your cheek. "Mhm,” you pout, closing your legs, which has him laughing before he stands up and makes his way to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” You peek an eye open, watching him put on his boxers, his dick still hard from your guys previous activities. “I'm getting you a towel and clothes, princess.” Jungkook enters his bathroom, picking up a clean towel before making his way beside you.

“Let me clean you; spread." Jungkook taps on your thigh. You cover your face as he cleans you up. Small moans leave your mouth from the oversensitivity. You felt comfortable letting Jungkook do these things for you; even though they were super intimate, it didn’t feel wrong when Jungkook did it.

“All clean, let me help you put this on.” He motions to your pink panties you left a week ago in his house. Just thinking of Jungkook washing your underwear made your chest ache. "Up,” he says to your arms as he puts his black shirt over you.

“You didn’t come,” you say, looking at his erection. "It doesn’t matter; it’ll go away. Are you craving anything so I can DoorDash?” Jungkook skips over your question. “Wings..?” You pout as Jungkook picks you up and places you on the chair in his room as he changes the wet sheets for a new set.

“Order some; my phone is over there.” He points to his phone on the nightstand. Your heart skipped a beat. Not ever did one of your exes ever let you touch their phones, so for Jungkook to tell you to get his phone like nothing made your heart speed up, even if you both didn’t establish the boyfriend and girlfriend label.

Let’s just say you ended your night with wings in bed and a cute man cuddling with you all night until the morning.

6K notes · View notes

hoshigray · 1 year ago

Text

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~

prev story » ❤︎ « next story

“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”

“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”

“They’re…still going at it.”

“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”

It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.

Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).

Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote.

Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now.

That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project.

“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”

Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.

Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off.

But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right?

“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!”

Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”

Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”

The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?”

Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”

Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”

Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.”

“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?”

“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”

“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment.

Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall.

You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment.

You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“

“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch.

Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”

“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh. God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…

“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off.

“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”

Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”

He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.”

You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.

You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”

“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress.

“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.

The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.

You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.

For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy.

Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat.

“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”

And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you.

One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face.

Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.

He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute.

And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him.

That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.

This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.

The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.

“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.”

It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”

You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe twenty minutes?”

“Just watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”

He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”

“What about your manga?”

“Got bored of that, too.”

“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”

“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”

Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at.

“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”

He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”

You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”

His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”

You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face.

“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”

He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”

The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again.

Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra.

You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly.

“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”

“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze.

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”

“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”

“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out.

With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”

You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”

Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air.

Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”

“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”

“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!

“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip.

“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…”

You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him.

Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more.

Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud.

Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more.

“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!”

But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.”

You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.”

“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”

“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts.

You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs.

You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on.

With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.

“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit.

Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second.

“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!

You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.

You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!”

He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough.

“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”

“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”

And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm.

Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.

When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly.

However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you.

He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?”

You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”

“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips.

As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you.

But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”

Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.

Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi.

You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”

“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders.

But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.

However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness.

The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two.

However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”

You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”

“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him.

Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.”

“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!”

The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”

But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.

You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”

Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.

None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other.

The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”

Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves.

You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.

The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”

You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”

You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”

“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you.

Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”

The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”

“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”

Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.

“And your point is?”

“Well, it seems — to me, at least — there might be something going on with you and Y/n?”

Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”

“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”

“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”

“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”

“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”

“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy.

“But it’s true!”

Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.

And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“

“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”

“So…Are you two….a thing?”

Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.

And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”

Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.

Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“

However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“

“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.

“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“

“SATORU GOJO!”

Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?

The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.

Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said.

Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you.

And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.

This was strike one.

He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.

Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“

“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”

“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.

Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“

“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.

No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two.

Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.

And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.

SLAP!

Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome.

Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.

“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”

He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.

Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him.

“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”

And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter.

The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry.

Oh, fuck.

He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living.

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.

All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.

He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

“What…the fuck…”

3K notes · View notes