#always directing traffic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

d1stalker · 3 months ago

Text

The Feeling's Mutual | Part One

[Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader]

Summary: If somebody told you a week ago that you were a mutant, being stalked, and would be teaming up with an annoying, grumbly bastard, you probably would have laughed in their face. Too bad that was last week, because here you are, in that very situation, wondering how in the world things escalated so quickly.

PART TWO PART THREE FINAL PART

Warnings: fem!reader, canon-level violence, reluctant alliance, bickering, not exactly enemies-to-lovers but they don't rly get along, it's gonna be a slow burn y'all WC: 5.7k - MASTERLIST - A/N: If you saw me post this earlier, no you didn't 🤫 i added more hehe

You’ve never been so confused in your entire life.

It all started last week—when you were walking to the grocery store. Just an ordinary day, nothing special about it. You had a list in your hand, some cash in your pocket, and thoughts of what to cook for dinner running through your mind. The route you took had you winding down the usual streets of your neighbourhood, and that’s when you noticed him.

Something about him was different, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on what it was that made you think that. Perhaps it was the way his eyes followed you, stalking you, like a predator its prey.

At first, you thought it might be a coincidence. Maybe he was just another person going about his day, heading in the same direction as you. People share paths all the time; there was no reason to suspect anything sinister, right? But as you continued walking, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something was off. You decided to test it, making a sudden turn down a side street, one you usually never take.

The street was quieter, less foot traffic, and the late afternoon shadows were starting to stretch across the pavement. You glanced over your shoulder, and there he was, still a few steps behind, his gaze remaining locked onto you with a focus that sent a shiver down your spine. Quickening your pace, you felt an almost paralyzing fear.

This wasn’t just a shared route.

The more you turned, the more you weaved through unfamiliar streets, the more persistent he became. He never faltered, never hesitated, always keeping just close enough to let you know he was there.

Finally, you reached the store, breathing in short, panicked gasps, your eyes flitting around. You ducked inside, hiding the fluorescent lights and bustling aisles. You tried to calm yourself, telling yourself it was nothing, that you were being paranoid. After all, what were the odds? Maybe he’d walk past, maybe he wasn’t even following you. You spent longer than usual picking up items you didn’t need, giving him time to disappear.

But when you walked back outside, bags in hand, you saw him again. He wasn’t right at the door, but still, close enough—across the street, half-hidden in the shadow of another building, watching. His eyes locked with yours once more, and you froze, the plastic handles of the grocery bags digging into your palms as your grip tightened in fear. He didn’t move, didn’t smile or sneer, just stood there, silent.

You rushed home, not even bothering to see if he was tracking you down, too scared to find out the answer. Your mind was racing with a million thoughts. Who was he? What did he want? You didn’t sleep much that night, jumping at every creak and groan the apartment made, the image of that man’s cold stare burned into your mind.

The next day, you told yourself it was nothing, a one-time thing, just some creep who had too much time on his hands. A pervert, possibly.

But happened again. A different man this time, but with the same unnerving intensity. He followed you the same way, mute and relentless, through the streets, to the store, and back home.

Then the day after that, and that, and that. They didn’t approach you directly, just followed, watched, waited. It was like a game, one that you didn’t know the rules to, and the stakes felt like they were getting higher and higher and more time passed. Whenever you stepped outside, you felt their eyes on you, felt their presence lurking just out of sight. It was terrifying.

The fear gnawed at you, growing with each passing day, until it became impossible to ignore. You started taking different routes, avoiding your usual stores, changing your routine as much as you could. Still, no matter what you did, they always found you.

Soon it changed—no longer just silent stalking. One night, as you were walking home, one of the men stepped out from the shadows and blocked your path. His presence was oppressive, the way he stood there, so still, so certain of his power over you. You had no idea what he wanted, but you knew it whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“Why are you following me?” you demanded, trying to muster up all the courage you could, voice shaking slightly despite your attempt to sound strong.

“Because we were told to,” the man said, his voice cold and emotionless. There was no malice, no pleasure in his words, just a chilling matter-of-factness. “You’re coming with us.”

Panic surged through you, a primal instinct to run, to fight, to do anything but comply. You refused to show it, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spat back, hoping your defiance would be enough to make him reconsider.

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them, and before you could react, he lunged at you, his fist swinging with brutal intent. Time seemed to slow as you saw the blow coming, your mind racing, but your body moving almost on instinct. You raised your arms to defend yourself, bracing for the crushing impact that would follow.

You couldn’t explain what happened next. When his fist connected with your arm, the force that should have sent you to the ground, left you unscathed. Instead, it was the man who staggered back, a look of shock and pain twisting his features. He clutched his hand, wincing as if he had struck something far harder than just flesh and bone.

You stared at him, bewildered, before glancing down at your own arm in disbelief. There was no pain, no bruise, nothing to indicate that you’d just been hit. It was as if his attack had bounced off of you, like you were made of steel.

Had you really just blocked that hit? And why did it feel like… nothing?

Before you could process what had happened, before the realization could fully take root, another man appeared out of nowhere, moving with a speed that blurred the edges of his form. Mutant. He was faster than the first, more determined, and this time, you felt your heart stop as he came at you from behind, his hands outstretched to grab you.

But something in you reacted faster than your fear. You twisted out of his grip with lightning speed, with movements so fluid and precise, it was as if your body knew exactly what to do, even if your brain was struggling to keep up. You sidestepped his attack, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and found yourself behind him, safe for the moment.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. How did you move like that? How had you known where to go, how to dodge?

There was no time to dwell on it. The fight intensified in an instant, the two men coming at you one after another, relentless in their assault. They weren’t holding back, and suddenly neither were you. You moved like a force of nature, dodging their attacks, striking back when you could. Each punch you threw landed with a power that surprised even you. You watched in stunned disbelief as one of the men crumpled to the ground after a single blow, his eyes rolling back as if he’d been hit by a truck.

You are not a gym regular. In fact, you hadn’t worked out in weeks. You weren’t strong, not like this. So how was it possible that your punches were so devastating, that each one seemed to carry a weight far beyond what you’d ever imagined?

Then, with a flick of his wrist, the first mutant, conjured a ball of fire in his hand, the flames crackling and roaring, craving something to burn. He hurled it at you, the fireball spinning through the air with only one target in mind.

You barely had time to scream as the flames engulfed your arm, the searing heat burning through your skin. The pain was unbearable, a white-hot agony that made you gasp and stumble back. You expected to see your skin blackened, blistered, ruined.

And it was.

For a minute.

To your shock—or horror—you looked down, breath catching in your throat as you watched the burn heal right before your eyes. The charred skin knitted back together in seconds, smooth and unblemished, as if nothing had happened at all.

What the fuck?

It was in that moment that the truth hit you, like a thunderclap in your mind. You weren’t just an ordinary person caught in a nightmare. You were a mutant, with powers that had only now revealed themselves, right when you needed them most.

The men kept coming, but now you fought with a new understanding. Each punch, each dodge, each rapid movement felt more controlled, more intentional, your gym class self-defence courses coming in clutch. You were strong, faster than you’d ever been, and you could heal—regenerate from injuries that would have left others incapacitated.

Finally, the two men laid groaning on the ground, defeated. You stood there, panting, your mind spinning as you tried to make sense of it all. Super strength, super speed, regeneration… these powers, they were yours. And they had just saved your life.

But as the adrenaline began to fade, confusion set in. What did these men want with you? Why had they gone to such lengths to provoke you? To make you discover what you were capable of?

All you knew was that one thing was clear: this was far from over. Whoever had sent these men wouldn’t stop here. They knew what you were now, and that meant they’d come after you again. You weren’t just an ordinary person anymore. You were something else, something powerful. And that put a target on your back.

Whatever was coming next, you needed to be ready.

----

That’s how you found yourself here, one week later, crouched on the apartment rooftop, the cold wind nipping at your exposed skin. The dark streets below are eerily silent, save for the distant hum of traffic. You sense them before you see them—another group of male mutants, closing in on your position. You grip the hilt of your knife tighter, feeling the now-familiar twinge of anger and frustration settle in your chest. This is the fifth group tonight. They’ve been hunting you in groups for days now, their numbers increasing as each one goes by, and you’re tired of it.

You’ve started to get used to your new powers—testing your limits, pushing yourself harder with each confrontation. What started as simple self-defence, a punch here, a dodge there, has escalated into something far more lethal.

You didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to by use your sharpest kitchen knife (your only kitchen knife) as a weapon, but as the attacks became more violent, you found yourself with little to no choice.

These mutants weren’t holding back, and neither could you.

Within a week, you went from the most average person in the world to what some people might call a vigilante—except you're really only trying to save your own skin.

Leaping off the roof, you land silently behind them. The speed at which you move is almost dizzying, your body a blur as you close the distance in the blink of an eye.

“Looking for someone?” you call out sarcastically.

They turn, eyes widening in surprise, but you’re already moving. Your blade sings through the air, striking true, as you move like a shadow, taking them down one by one. It’s not easy—these guys are tough—but you’ve become tougher. With each strike, you can feel your strength surging, far beyond what should be possible. One of the mutants tries to block you, creating a forcefield, but you grab the edges before it can fully form, and break through it, the temporary pain vanishing as quick as it came. A solid kick to his face, and he crumples to the ground, unconscious before he even realizes it.

“Is this what you wanted?!” you shout, your voice echoing through the empty street as the last attacker falls to the ground, groaning in pain. “Is this what you came for?!”

The answer doesn’t come from them. Rather, it comes from a low growl behind you.

You whirl around, heart racing, and there he is—Logan Howlett—the Wolverine himself. The man you’ve read about in every article, every piece of mutant-related news you could get your hands on since discovering your own abilities. He’s infamous, pretty much a legend, and the stories about him are as terrifying as they are fascinating.

Standing there with that scowl on his face, he looks every bit the dangerous figure you’ve imagined. His eyes are blank, calculating, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as it sizes you up. There’s a tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as he takes a step closer.

“So, you’re the one causing all this trouble,” Logan states gruffly, irritation coating his tongue. He unsheathes his claws, the adamantium glimmering under the streetlights. The sound is unmistakable, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Heard you’ve been killin’ off mutants left and right.”

You narrow your eyes, instinctively stepping back into a defensive stance. Your heart is pounding, but you can't show any weakness.

“Funny, I thought the same about you, Wolverine. What’s the matter? Run out of bad guys to play hero with?”

Without warning, he charges at you, claws outstretched, but you’re ready. You dart to the side, your speed giving you an edge as his claws slice through the air where you’d been standing, making a woosh sound. You counter with a swift kick to his ribs, putting your enhanced strength into the blow. He grunts, stumbling slightly, but quickly regains his balance. The momentary advantage you gained is gone as he storms toward you once more.

You meet his attacks head-on, your blade clashing with his claws in a shower of sparks. The force of each impact reverberates through your arms, but you hold your ground, refusing to back down. His attacks are ferocious, a whirlwind of claws and fury. He's fast, but you’re faster, dodging and weaving with a precision that keeps you just out of reach.

“Look, sweetheart,” he growls between strikes, his frustration evident. “You can make this easy or hard. I don’t care which, but I’m not lettin’ you hurt anyone else.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you deflect another swipe of his claws. “Oh, please. You think I’m the bad guy here? These jerks have been coming after me for days. I’m just defending myself.”

Logan doesn’t look convinced, and that pisses you off more than anything. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe you, why? You’re leavin’ a trail of bodies behind you.”

You narrow your eyes, feeling the anger boil over. “Because I’m not the one who started this! They did! But of course, you wouldn’t know that, would you? You just show up, swinging your claws around like you’re the big savior.”

“You got a mouth on you, don’t ya?” He retorts, snarling as he charges at you again, faster this time. You barely have time to block his attack, the force of his blow sending you skidding back several feet. But you dig your heels in, refusing to give an inch as he continues plows forward. Your speed kicks in, allowing you to duck under his next swing and land a punch to his jaw.

He staggers, but quickly recovers, swiping at you with renewed fury. You're a bit sloppy compared to him, not as much of a seasoned fighter. His claws swipe at your arm, cutting deep and drawing blood, but the wound heals almost instantly, the skin closing up as if it had never been cut. You see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it doesn’t slow him down. He lunges again, becoming a blur of motion as he ups the ante.

You parry with your knife, but this time, you’re on the offensive. You launch a rapid series of attacks, your speed and strength managing to drive him back. In the rush of movement, you're able to see an opening, grasping his shoulder and shoving him hard, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. The impact is enough to crack the brick, but Logan just shakes it off, pushing himself back to his feet.

“Gotta say,” you huff, panting slightly from the exertion, “I’m a little disappointed. I expected more from the you, after all I’ve heard.”

Logan grunts, clearly fed up with the banter. “I'm done talking.”

He lunges at you again, and this time, it’s a battle of wills as much as it is of skill. You don't back down, your knife clashing with his claws in a series of rapid, brutal strikes. The alleyway becomes a blur of movement, metal against metal, strength against strength. Each time his claws find their mark, your regenerative abilities kick in, healing the wounds almost as quickly as they’re made.

And for a moment, you wonder if you’ll have to kill him too, just to survive. But then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way your attacks grow weaker, less lethal. Or maybe it’s the way Logan’s eyes narrow in realization when he notices your hesitance.

“Wait a damn minute,” Logan says, stepping back just out of your reach, wiping his mouth, then spitting on the ground. He’s breathing hard, just like you. “You’re holdin’ back.”

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as they flick down to the knife you’ve been holding, and then back up to you. His expression shifts, a mix of disbelief and exasperation crossing his face. “And is that a kitchen knife?”

You glance down at the knife in your hand, realizing how absurd it must look in the middle of this intense fight. It’s not exactly standard combat gear, but it’s all you had when this started. You can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips as you meet his gaze again.

“It gets the job done,” you quip, shrugging slightly.

He shakes his head, clearly not impressed. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I'm choosing to take that as a compliment,” The sarcasm is practically oozing off of you.

He eyes you warily, his posture still tense. “You’re not makin’ this easy, you know. You got me here thinkin’ you’re some crazed mutant killer, but you’re just a girl wavin’ around a kitchen knife like you’re in a bad horror movie.”

You cross your arms. “Well, I didn’t exactly have time to hit up a weapons store. Besides, I didn’t ask for any of this. These guys came after me first.”

Logan studies you. “So you say. But you’re killing dozens of mutants. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘innocent.’”

“Trust me, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be doing this–fighting… killing–at all. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a mutant until some guy swung his fist at me a week ago.” You meet his gaze, challenging him. “And what about you? You’re not exactly known for playing nice.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well, most of my casualties are from the missions I go on, so I'd say it's justified.”

Your eyes narrow, catching the implication in his words. “Oh, am I your mission now? How long have you been tracking me?”

Logan’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a slight shift in his posture, a subtle acknowledgment that you’ve hit on something. “Long enough to know you’re not just some innocent bystander caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“So, what? You’ve been watching me, waiting for me to screw up so you could take me down?” you demand, the frustration clear in your voice.

“Something like that,” he replies gruffly, “But from what I’ve seen, you’re more reactive than proactive," he looks you up and down. "I can’t seem figure out if you’re the real threat here, or just someone caught in the middle of a bigger mess.”

You let out a slow breath, trying to calm the fiery anger rising within you. “I told you, I didn’t start this. They did. I’m just trying to survive.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, teeth grinding as he considers your words. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to piece together whether you’re telling the truth or just playing him. He takes a step closer, his claws still out but not as threatening as before.

Finally, he asks, “You got a name?”

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “No shit I have a name.”

Logan huffs, unimpressed by your attitude. “Well, if you’re not gonna tell me, I’m just gonna have to call you somethin’… How 'bout Knifey?”

You stare at him, half-expecting him to crack a smile, but he’s dead serious. “Knifey? Really?”

Logan shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he eyes your weapon of choice again. “Fits, don’t you think?”

“Fine. I’ll tell you my name, alright? Anything but Knifey.” You say, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“... Gotta say, Knifey sounds a little better”

“Shut the fuck up, Wolverine”

“It’s Logan, actually.”

You release a deep sigh. “I know, and I don’t care. I’m telling you I am not the one you need to be going after.”

Logan scoffs, crossing his arms. “I’ve been around a long time. Seen my fair share of people who think they’re doin’ the right thing and end up doin’ a hell of a lot of damage. So, forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”

“You would know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” The words come out of your mouth before you had time to think about them, and you regret it immediately. You can see the mutant in front of you’s face darken to a degree bordering murderous, and you think you’ve crossed a line you can’t come back from. Whatever playful banter existed before this is gone.

“Careful,” He growls menacingly, “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

You swallow hard. The Wolverine is infamous for a reason, and you just poked at the beast beneath the surface. You briefly consider backing down, but your pride refuses to let you.

“Maybe I don’t,” you admit, “But I do know what it’s like to be hunted, to have no choice but to fight back. So yeah, maybe we’re more alike than you think.”

Logan’s glare softens just a fraction, and he lets out a long, frustrated breath. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do ya?”

“Not when I’m trying to make a point,” you retort.

He doesn’t respond immediately, just stares at you, as if he’s trying to decide whether to continue this conversation or end it with his claws. Ultimately, he shakes his head, the anger in his eyes dimming, replaced by something more akin to weary resignation.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Maybe you’re not the one I should be takin’ down. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start trustin’ you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” you reply, feeling a bit of relief that the situation isn’t about to escalate into another fight. “But I swear, there’s someone else out there pulling the strings. And I’m not sticking around to be their puppet.”

He nods slowly, crossing his arms again. “We’ll find out who’s behind this, but I’m callin’ the shots. You step outta line, and we’re gonna have a problem.”

You smirk, a little of your bravado returning. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, Logan.”

You can tell he doesn't appreciate your attitude, but he lets it slide. “Let’s get one thing straight. This ain’t a partnership. I’m doin’ this to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on, not because I like you.”

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” you shoot back, though there’s no real heat behind your words.

Logan turns abruptly, not even bothering to beckon you with him.

It makes you roll your eyes but you fall in step beside him anyway, knowing that despite the rocky start, this uneasy alliance might be the only thing keeping you alive.

“…So… where exactly are we going?”

He sends you a sidelong glance. "Who said I’m takin’ you anywhere?"

You throw your hands up, exasperated. "Well, if you don’t, these mutants are going to keep hunting me, and I’m going to keep killing them…” you shoot him a look, batting your eyelashes innocently. “You wouldn't want that, would you?"

“Fuck off”

"Well, too late for that now."

He grumbles something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but it sounds a lot like cursing his bad luck.

"We’re headin’ to my place. It’s the safest spot right now."

----

Turn’s out, it’s not really his place. Or at least, it’s what you’d thought it’d be. It’s more of an abandoned warehouse that he just decided to seek refuge in one day, doing the bare minimum to make it feel at the very least, home-y. The heavy metal doors creak open, revealing a chaotic interior cluttered with garbage, old newspapers, and a few scattered items. In the corner, a single bed and a sagging couch that look like they’ve definitely seen better days.

Your nose wrinkles in disgust as you take in the mess. "Seriously?" you mutter, your voice tinged with disbelief. "This is where you've been hiding out? It looks like a tornado hit a thrift store."

Logan, who had been trailing behind you, lets out a low grunt as he shuffles past, not bothering to respond to your jab. His heavy footsteps echo in the otherwise silent space, the sound bouncing off the bare, cold walls. He heads straight for a small, battered table that looks like it's one sharp nudge away from collapsing. On it lies a worn notebook, its pages yellowed and curling at the edges, evidence of extensive use. Without a word, he picks it up and starts flipping through the pages, his expression unreadable.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step closer, peering over his shoulder. "What's this?" you ask, reaching out to take the notebook from him. He hesitates for a brief moment before relinquishing it into your hands. As you flip through the pages, your eyes widen in shock. The notes are detailed, almost obsessively so, listing the names of various mutants, their abilities, and the exact locations where their bodies were found.

"Oh, great," you say with a sarcastic, half-hearted laugh. "You've been keeping tabs on me. What kind of creepy stalker are you?”

He rolls his eyes and snatches the notebook back, his voice dripping with irritation. "I wasn’t exactly tracking you. I was trying to track whoever’s been killing all those damn mutants."

Logan’s jaw tightens as you just continue to stare, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. "And don’t act all innocent. I needed to know who was causing all the chaos."

Scoffing, you continue to look through the notebook, stopping when you come across a particularly detailed entry. "Wow... 26 kills? Not too shabby for an amateur mutant, huh?"

“Is your mouth unable to stay shut?” he questions, though you know better than to answer that.

The notebook flops back onto the table with a casual flick of your wrist. "Hey, don’t be mad just because I’m doing a better job than you expected."

He crosses his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. "I’m not mad," he snaps. "I’m annoyed that you’re making light of this. It’s not exactly a high score to brag about."

"Oh, come on. You’re the one who turned this place into a shrine to my success” you smirk.

"It’s not a shrine," Logan growls, his patience wearing thin. "It’s a record. If you’d been paying more attention to what’s going on, you’d know that."

The playfulness fades from your face as his words hit home. He’s right, but you’re not about to admit it. Instead, you deflect. "Yeah, and if you’d bothered to talk to me instead of playing detective, maybe we’d have figured this out sooner."

"You think you’re the only one who’s had a rough time? This whole situation is a mess, and we’re both caught in it." His eyes narrow.

You cross your arms, mirroring his defensive posture. "You didn’t have to get involved, you know. Unless...what if you’re the bad guy here?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Using all these mutants to lure me into your dungeon under the pretense of trying to ‘stop’ me?"

His response is immediate. "I’m way too lazy to think of doing all that."

You can’t help but believe him, especially given the state of the warehouse. He clearly lacks the energy—or the interest—to tidy up his living space, let alone mastermind a complex plot. You let out a sigh and walk over to the sagging couch in the corner. The fabric is threadbare, and the springs groan in protest as you flop down onto it.

"Fine, fine... I trust you," you concede, though your tone is far from serious. "Did you notice anything specific amongst these mutants?"

"Yeah, I’ve noticed somethin’,” Logan says, dragging a hand down his face, now looking more tired than ever. “They’re all pretty low-key. Not exactly top-tier in the mutant rankings. Never caused any trouble before, yadda yadda. If anything, they’re usually on the weaker side."

You furrow your brows, intrigued. "So they’re not a serious threat."

"Exactly," Logan confirms with a nod. "It’s weird. These mutants aren’t the type to just go around being fuckin’ annoying like they have been. Someone—or something—must be pushing them into this."

"You think they’re all being controlled somehow?" you muse, the pieces slowly falling into place. "And that’s why they’re suddenly acting out of character?"

"Seems like it," He replies, rubbing his temples. "Must be powerful if they’re all falling in line like this. We’re going to have to dig deeper to find the source of it.

He moves to sit next to you on the couch, the worn fabric sinking even further under his weight. "Tell me everything you know," Logan says quietly, his voice a tinge softer now, almost coaxing. "Everything that’s happened to you."

You sigh and lean back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as you start to recount your experience. "It all began about a week ago. Just a normal day, I was walking to the grocery store, then I noticed this guy following me. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. But no matter where I went, he was always a few steps behind."

His attention sharpens, his gaze locking onto yours. "And?"

"It started as just stalking," you continue, your voice growing quieter as the memories flood back. "Nothing violent. But then, it started happening with different people. Each time, they were more persistent, more intimidating. It became clear that something was off."

You can feel Logan’s gaze burning into you, his concern evident in the way he leans closer, listening intently. "Eventually, they started getting aggressive," you say. "One night, one of them blocked my path and tried to grab me. I managed to fight him off, but when he hit me, it didn’t hurt. I mean, it should have, he looked pretty strong, but my arm felt fine. That’s when I realized I had powers—some form of super strength, super speed, and healing abilities."

"And you figured that out just from fighting them off?" he questions, somewhat impressed.

You nod, rubbing your arms as if to ward off a lingering chill. "Yeah. I didn’t really have a choice. They kept coming, and I had to use whatever I had to protect myself—including my damn kitchen knife. The more I fought, the more I understood what I could do.”

Logan pauses, his expression unreadable as he processes everything you’ve said. The dim light from the single bulb casts long shadows across the room, emphasizing the lines of fatigue etched into his face. Finally, he stands up, his movements slow and deliberate. "So, here’s the plan," he starts, his voice rough and tired. "We need to figure out exactly where these mutants are coming from. There’s gotta be a main location where they’re getting their orders or some central hub for this control."

You hum in agreement, though a part of you is reluctant to jump back into action so soon. "Alright, so how do we start tracking that down?"

His lips press into a thin line as he thinks it over. "We’ll stake out the rooftops. From up there, we can get a clear view of their movements and see if they’re converging somewhere specific. Maybe spot a pattern."

You stretch, stifling a yawn as you glance around the shabby room. "Okay, but are we doing that tonight? I’m pretty beat."

“Seriously? You want to put this off?" he accuses, face twisting in irritation.

"I’m up for it, but I’d be more effective if I’m not running on fumes. Plus, you look pretty tired yourself," you shrug.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow."

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you sense his reluctance to agree. "So you agree with me," you state, not really feeling any real pride, but just wanting to push his buttons.

Logan grumbles under his breath as he starts to clear a space on the threadbare couch, which creaks loudly under even the slightest pressure. "Do you ever shut up? I’m letting you crash in my bed, aren’t I?"

You chuckle softly, watching him arrange a tattered blanket on the couch with exaggerated care. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Goodnight, old man."

"Watch it, Knifey," he mutters, settling onto the couch with a groan as the springs protest under his weight.

You roll your eyes at his choice of nickname, and with a sigh, you make your way over to the bed, which is small and far from luxurious, but it’s better than nothing. The mattress dips slightly as you climb in, and the covers are thin, barely providing any warmth. Still, exhaustion pulls at you, and you barely have time to think about what the covers smell like before sleep overtakes you.

----

pls comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the series taglist!

2K notes · View notes

bunny584 · 10 months ago

Text

OBSESSED: YUTA

A/N: Sweet, innocent, puppy-eyed boy who is no better than the frat boys you detest 🤭 (this is for anon who requested a lil crazy special grade sorcerer doing ungodly things!! Shoko feat The Boys ™️ is up next, then I SWEAR I’m done and back to AO3)

C/W: Aged up characters, College AU. Masturbation. Mature, 18+

“YUUTA?! Are you kidding me?”

You stop time.

Heads turn in his direction. But Yuuta doesn’t register any it because of your smile.

The 1000-kilowatt smile that the locker room rumors about. The smile that stops traffic. The one that obliterates his train of thought.

365 days since he’s seen it in person.

And suddently the year in Morocco for his University degree feels frivolous.

Yuuta places two bottles of disgustingly expensive champagne (courtesy of Satoru Gojo) in between the half filled red solo cups.

He’s doing his best to keep his eyes above your delicate, sharp collarbones.

He’s doing his best not to follow the Barbie pink hair string around your neck.

The Barbie pink string connected to the triangular bikini that is defying the laws of gravity, Mother Nature, AND physics to keep your busty, perky chest supported.

Not to mention the sheer netted tissue thin excuse for a cover up. Draped around the curve of your hips. It warms him hotter than the Moroccan sun.

You wire yourself through the crowded sorority house kitchen. And Yuuta gnaws on his inner cheeks. The predatory stares from from the frat drones scattered about ignites a guttural flame.

But he’ll deal with that later.

Because Aphrodite is barreling toward him and he is not worthy.

“I can’t believe you made it!” You launch yourself into him.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Happy 21st birthday, gorgeous.”

One of his arms is more than sufficient enough to wrap around your baby doll frame. Other hand in his pocket, while he easily lifts and spins you around twice.

Airy giggles spill from your lips. So clearly surprised by how strong he has grown. He’s bulkier. More toned. Hell of a lot more confident too.

Is he showing of a little? Of course he is.

“You’re here. You’re really here.” You stare up at him with stars in your eyes. Still in utter disbelief.

Your tiny, warm hands cup his face. Yuuta subconsciously melts into them. You always did strum his body like a harp.

“Yuuta, you must be so tired. Your bedroom eyes are even more…bedroom-y.” You tease.

Yuuta laughs to choke down a groan. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained mulberry right now.

Because why would you mention a bedroom while you are wearing a bikini he could snap with his eyes?

“Hey, be nice! You know there’s no amount of caffeine that can fix the bags.” Good, fucking save.

He swallows thickly and averts his gaze. If he keeps looking at you, he’d drown. Like how he drowned freshman, sophomore and junior year.

A continent, couple oceans and a sea away from you couldn’t keep him afloat.

A palpable silence drapes over the two of you. There’s so much he wants to say.

“Who’s is the hot guy birthday girl is talking to?”

“Okkotsu, I think.”

“No WAY. If she doesn’t fuck him i—“

“OKAY!!!” You exclaim loudly, prompting giggles from your sorority sisters behind you.

Your cheeks are now matching his. You both burst into incredulous laughter, letting some of the pressure out of the proverbial valve.

“Give me a tour, birthday girl.” Yuuta grazes his fingers over your bare shoulders because he can’t not touch you.

Your hand magnets to his wrist and you both beeline up the stairs. He knows, you know, -you both know- you are heading straight to your bedroom.

Yuuta’s heart is throbbing so hard his whole rib cage is vibrating. Cotton lines every corner of his mouth and he’s suddenly forgotten how to swallow.

Forgotten how to breathe apparently too, because he chokes on air when you pull him to the front of your room door.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you muse playfully.

And now his cock is at full staff. The measly silver zipper is definitely not strong enough for this.

“I-Im sorry?” Yuuta gurgles through the saliva pooled in his mouth like a hungry puppy.

“It’s a pool party, silly. C’mon, you can use my bathroom to change.”

Yuuta makes the mistake of letting his eyes drop down the dip of your pretty spine. Tracing all the way down to your matching bikini bottom. That’s a thong. Lining between your perfect, plump ass.

God.

No.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

He follows behind you, nails digging into his dark jeans.

“Bathroom’s through the closet, be quick.” You flash him another pristine grin and…and..

..what is his name again…?

Yuuta returns your smile with a lopsided one of his own. The walk to the bathroom is 13 miles long. There’s no way. No way he’s going to be able to hide his unreasonable, rock hard length through his weightless swim trunks.

He halts. Suddenly enchanted by your hanging clothes. Like a Venus fly trap. You’re everywhere.

Your clothes. Your delicious scent. Your jewelry. Your shoes.

Yuuta is in the eye of your vortex.

A long, silky sleeve tickles his cheek. So soft. Electric currents surge through every engorged vessel in his cock. He takes in a long drag of the faint cherry vanilla notes etched into your clothes.

An addict. A hopeless, pathetic addict in a field of his vices.

His fingers earthquake against his buckle. Clumsily stepping out of his jeans.

Just a quick touch. It’ll help him relax. Just really fast, you won’t know.

Yuuta whips around to bury himself in your silk shirt. Heart thundering in his ears. Fingers tickling the hem of his trunks. Shaft fully tented from nothing.

“Yuuta? Did you get lost in there?” Your dulcet voice knock Yuuta’s lust-drunk thoughts loose.

“Ha-N-no! I’m c-coming!”

Yuuta shakily unbuttons his white linen shirt, exposing his lean but chisled core. His cock is diamond hard. Any slight movement and his blunt, leaky tip will peek over the hem.

He strategically folds his pants over the indecent bulge. He just has to count backwards from 500 then he’ll soften and leave the jeans behind.

“Come out!! I won’t bite!” You coax again.

The second Yuuta re-emerges from your closet, he digs the heel of his palm into his crotch. Trying to will his erection down by sheer force because counting just won’t do.

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning against your palms flat on the duvet.

Your bikini has grown smaller.

It has to have.

Because the way your supple tits spill around the cruel joke that is that top fucks his brain to mush.

Soft curvy lines of your breasts. Feminine pretty lines of your tummy. The swell of your thighs just begging for Yuuta’s lips, his hands…his dick. He could drop to his knees and worship at your alter this second.

“Oh my god!” You giggle again, waving him over to the bed.

“You’re so, big, now.” Your hand lingers on his tensed bicep, currently losing the war against his cock angrily thrashing around in his pants.

“Am I?” Yuuta asks stupidly. Long sentences are off the table.

“Mmhm,” he watches your eyes lazily drink in his face. He must be an embarrassing shade of violet at this point.

Your hand makes its way into his hair and Yuuta just couldn’t choke down the “ohh,” that bubbles out of him.

“God, I’ve missed you, Yuuta.” Your face is so soft. So earnest.

And Yuuta is there with you, he swears he is. It’s just, you’re speaking directly to his cock right now and all the blood has drained from his head to his head.

“I mi-missed you. More.” He manages to grunt out, precum pooling on his thigh.

Hold it together. Fucking hold it together.

You turn your body and scoot closer to him. The peaks and valley of your cleavage, tantalizing him into a mindless fool who can only think about fucking his fist.

“Guys here suck. But not you. You’ve always been amazing,” you murmur, circling feather light shapes against Yuuta’s scalp.

He shudders under your touch. Biting his cheeks so his jaw doesn’t hang open. Drool already threatening to leak from his lips.

“So kind and sweet.” Your eyes drop to his lips at the same that your hand falls to his tensed abs.

And Yuuta is caught in your quick sand. His limbs loosen. Hand on his crotch melts away. Allowing his member to spring upward with all the blood he has in his body. The sudden movement causes his jeans to slide to the floor.

His ears and cheeks burn at his indecency. But he can’t move. He is at your complete mercy. His cock rhythmically pumping out his precum now.

“I..” Yuuta croaks, but in one dizzying motion you dive your lips onto his.

He snaps.

Yuuta’s left hand flies to his neglected, weapy shaft. The friction through his thin trunks evoke a deep moan into your mouth. His other hand grips the back of your head, pressing you forward onto his tongue. He didn’t ask for entry into your lips like he normally would. It’s too dire. He’s too needy.

His hand pumps his length while his tongue maps every corner of your warm mouth. You let out soft, high pitched sighs. Which nearly bring him to finish instantly.

“Oh, Yuuta.” You moan his name. And Yuuta’s hips rut harder into his hands.

He’s hoping, praying you’re too distracted by the bruising kiss to notice the pitiful way he’s bucking his hips. Humping his hand. He’s no better than the guys you were talking about. No better.

“OH BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!!” Shrill voices from just outside your door rip you two a mile apart.

Yuuta scrambles to his feet, his arm unsuccessfully covering his crotch. You are panting, thumb stroking your bottom lip. Both of you still brimming with your electric chemistry.

“Enough birthday sex!!! Time for TEQUILA!” Your sorority sisters babble and laugh, about 2 seconds away from opening the door.

You grip the handle. Face and body flushed warm rose.

“I-I-uh I have to-“

“Ye—yeah of course, I’ll meet you, down. I’ll meet you down there.”

Both of your voices nervously collide. Looking everywhere but each other’s eyes. You flutter out in haste. Leaving Yuuta in the middle of your room rock hard and a pre cum covered mess.

Like leaving a fiend with an array of illicit substances.

Yuuta turns on his heel and disappears into your closet. He’s not thinking. Logical thought has long ceased to exist. All he can think about is how much his balls ache for you. How drunk he is off your touch. Your taste. Your smell.

His eyes laser down to a crumpled pair of lace panties just a few paces away from your hamper.

Yuuta’s gaze could burn it through the floor.

Stop, Yuuta. Don’t you dare.

He scolds himself. Even though his hands do the opposite. He drops to his knees and pulls his heavy cock free from its barrier. The other hand toying with your worn panties.

He’s filthy. A dirty, nasty scumbag.

Yuuta tugs his cock, aggressively. Jaw hanging open. Short desperate huffs of air escaping his lips.

No, don’t. Stop. “Nnhhgh s-top…fuck..n-no.” His jagged thoughts and jagged words intertwine. Squelching noises from his arousal pierce through his groans.

Yuuta brings your panties to his nose, and nearly blacks out. Your scent. So fucking delicious. So perfect.

He needs to taste.

His groans become garbled when he stuffs your panties into his mouth. Every single nerve ending in his body ruptures.

Yuuta pumps his cock with both hands. Feverish. Sloppy thrusts of his hips colliding with his white knuckled fists. The world around him dampens. Blurs.

“Nnnghh..uhhgh..f-FUCK,”

Your spit-drenched underwear rolls out of his mouth onto his sensitive tip. Ropes, and ropes and ropes of his cum fill your soft négligée.

Yuuta hangs his head back, leaning against his calves. His dick still twitching through his nirvana.

After a few moments, the fog slowly lifts from his mind. His vision returns. Yuuta wipes the remnants of his arousal off his cock with your panties. Before tucking them into his pocket.

Unable to look himself in the eye, he quickly rinses his hands, intending to rejoin your party at once.

But, when his hand connects with the cold knob, a voice in the back of his mind pipes up.

Take another one.

And in a trance-like state, Yuuta rushes back to your closet hamper to find another pair of your panties.

A pretty, delicate red number catches his eyes and he stuffs it into a free pocket before scurrying out of your room.

He’s no better than them.

He’s worse.

PART II

3K notes · View notes

lightseoul · 18 days ago

Note

Hiii congrats on 2k! Can you please do no. 22 for this event. Love you💗

hello, nonnie! thank you so much for the greetings <3 and yes, of course! this was so fun to write lol it practically wrote itself. hope this one makes y'all laugh! and love you too 😚

(this is lightseoul’s 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i’ll whip something up!)

22. "ARE YOU SINGLE?" (1.3k)

none of this would’ve happened if shitty hair—the hulking brute of a gentleman he begrudgingly calls his best friend—didn’t notice.

they were just taking a short albeit much-needed water break at the tail end of the day-shift patrol, the unforgiving sun having pushed them to near dehydration (as it always does) as they guarded this rather quiet part of the city.

and to be fair, it’s not like he did it on purpose.

he was just briefly but thoroughly scanning the area, like a responsible pro-hero on duty would, when his eyes laid on you.

“what was that?” kirishima, who just downed an entire 500 mL liter of cold water they got from the convenience store a block away, suddenly pipes up from right beside him.

“what.”

when the redhead doesn’t say anything for a beat, bakugou chances a glance at him, only to find the man sporting a shit-eating grin.

bakugou feels himself bristle.

kirishima’s grin only widens. “you just did a double take at that girl.”

“what girl?” bakugou grits out, feigning ignorance.

but any plans he had to keep that charade up practically fly out the proverbial window when the damned hardening hero moves to unabashedly point in your direction, and before his mind can catch up, his body lunges forward to restrain the man’s arm.

the man in question laughs. “i knew it.”

bakugou only scowls at him before shoving him away, as if he wasn’t the one who threw himself onto the guy in panic. kirishima takes it in stride, though, used to years of his friend’s rough treatment, taking the opportunity to look at you instead.

“ooh, she is cute.”

“shut up.”

bakugou fights the urge to follow his friend’s line of vision, knowing all too well what’ll greet him at the end of it.

he admits his gaze might’ve lingered a beat too long, not that he’ll ever admit that to his patrol buddy.

no, he’s taking that secret with him to the grave.

“let’s go say hi.”

bakugou instantly looks up in alarm, but before he can lunge forward again and hold the stupid fucking man back, kirishima is already up and crossing the street, the traffic lights having conveniently turned green for pedestrians just a moment ago.

he pauses for a second, the urge to flee and hide from you before his best friend does something to embarrass him and the curious need to go do say hi raging a tug of war inside of him.

but if there’s one thing he knows for certain as a pro-hero, it’s that a second’s worth of hesitation can cause irrevocable damage.

and so with gritted teeth, he follows suit and crosses the street, and in just a few strides, he finds himself trailing slightly behind the redhead, who’s now merely several feet from where you’re standing, holding to your chest what seems to be a clipboard.

you notice kirishima first, probably having heard the heavy booted footsteps of the two men, turning on your heel at the sound. your eyes widen at the sight, before your face morphs into a look of recognition and… pleasant surprise?

“oh gosh—” you start, eyes annoyingly fixed on his best friend, “—red riot, hello!”

“heya, …” kirishima trails off, and you promptly supply him with your name.

his pr prince of a best friend beams at you. “nice to meet ya!”

and only then does his presence seem to register to you, because your gaze finally drifts to him, and your smile falters for just a millisecond before you school your features into a polite expression.

“hello, mr. dynamight, sir.”

he feels his eye twitch at the salutation, and he doesn’t have to look at the pro-hero beside him to know that the guy is watching the scene before him in mild amusement. he doesn’t know how else to respond if not to ask you why the fuck he’s being treated so formally while you regard shitty hair with subtle familiarity, so he settles with a grunt.

that seems enough to satisfy you, though, because you swiftly turn back to kirishima. “my best friend is a huge fan of yours, by the way.”

and as kirishima readily accepts the compliment and thanks you, bakugou finds his mind singlehandedly honing on what you just said.

your best friend is a huge fan of kirishima, not you.

also, that means your best friend is a fan of his best friend.

and if the four of you were to pair up, perhaps on a double date…

bakugou shakes his head at the thought, and perhaps too aggressively, because he catches both of your attention, the two of you glancing at him with worry.

“you okay, bakubro?”

he steals a glance in your direction, which he instantaneously regrets, because he makes eye contact with you. he immediately averts his gaze, choosing to face the guy instead.

“‘m fine.”

kirishima hesitates. “you sure?”

bakugou only tosses him a glare.

“i’m gonna take that as a yes,” kirishima shoots back, before returning the smile on his face and shifting to regard you. “anyway, we were just taking a short break from patrol and wanted to check in. everything alright here?”

that apparently is enough to make you light up. bakugou’s gut churns in what is absolutely not jealousy.

“yeah, thanks!” you reply, gratitude bleeding into your tone. “i was just—” you trail off, eyes shifting down to that clipboard you’ve been clutching this entire time, before: “you know what, do you guys have a minute?”

“sure!”

“no.”

kirishima whips to look at him. “come on, bakubro! let’s help the citizens out, yeah?”

and bakugou doesn’t know why or how, but his mouth runs off before his brain or heart can dictate to him what to say.

“yeah,” he mutters, “for all i know, this is just a fucking pyramid scheme.”

instantly, the air around the three of you goes quiet.

that is, until kirishima pipes up. “he’s just joki—”

“thanks, red riot—” you cut him off, much to bakugou’s surprise, his eyes shooting up to look at you whose lips are now pulled into a tight line.

“—but i think only dynamight here fits my research’s inclusion criteria.”

your what?

and before he could even comprehend the last three words you just uttered, you bring up your clipboard and pen like you’re about to jot something down, and hit him with it.

“are you single?”

bakugou only gawks at you, too stunned to speak. although he apparently doesn’t have to, because you continue.

“are you?” you repeat, before laughing dryly. “of course you are, what with that fucking attitude…”

at that, kirishima instantly barks out a genuine laugh, his booming voice reverberating throughout the street, even startling the cat perched on top of those large garbage disposals.

bakugou, on the other hand, only gapes at you in horror, because who would’ve thought the pretty girl from across the street was a fucking rude ass potty mouth?

a fucking rude ass potty mouth who could clock him like that?

“does he tend to go speechless like this?” you ask kirishima a few moments later, who’s still shaking in suppressed laughter.

“no,” the pro-hero finally replies after catching his breath. “you’re the first one i’ve ever seen make him this way.”

“really?” you reply, voice low and laced with sarcastic disbelief.

“he is actually single, though,” kirishima quickly adds, much to his chagrin. “…if you’re interested.”

as if on cue, you finally turn to look at bakugou, and he—swear to god—feels his heart stop when you glance at him, something akin to curiosity hidden amidst your features.

but he doesn’t get to bask in it, though, or in its implications, because his dipshit of a best friend drawls on.

“if you are, though, that’s great—”

oh, don’t make him do it.

“—because he finds you very much attra—”

BAM!

#we love kirishima in this household #best wingman fr fr #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #mha imagines #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bkg #2k milestone drabble

721 notes · View notes

awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

Text

men are so quick to blame the gods

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night. w/c: 2.6k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst/fluff. aged up!yuuji. sa is mentioned but it's pretty much just sukuna saying he doesn't condone it. heavy kissing. obvi features yuuji x reader but it's not at all the focus. cursing. sukuna calls you kitten. i'd like to think he's not too ooc in this but im probably delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: am i rehabbing our handsome vicious psychopath? yes<3 loosely inspired by this post (features manga spoilers) of him being v beautiful and poetic series masterlist // masterlist

humans have always irritated the king of curses— pathetic little vermin scurrying around, utterly oblivious to their own weakness.

so it came as quite a shock to him when he awoke after over a millenia, only to find himself trapped inside the body of some teenaged brat.

nearly 7 years later and he's positive there isn't a person he despises more in the universe. not even the cocky six eyes wielder can elicit sukuna's fury the way itadori yuuji so easily does.

that's why he resolved early on to kill his vessel's pretty little girlfriend, an act he hopes might satiate his spite. he's positive nothing would devastate yuuji more.

luckily for you, life has a funny way of working.

you and yuuji are standing at an intersection in the city, the pink-haired man staring at his phone as he tries to piece together the directions to a new sushi restaurant you've been wanting to try.

when the pedestrian sign on the other side of the street blinks, you step out onto the pavement without checking for oncoming traffic.

"what the-" yuuji's confused voice fills your ears just as a rough hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward violently.

a car barrels through the spot you'd just been standing, the driver clearly not paying attention to the traffic signal. you look back just in time to see harsh black marks fading from your boyfriend's arm, though the rest of his body has seemingly remained unblemished.

it's an odd sensation for yuuji because he's never lost control to sukuna in such a manner. he doesn't dwell on it long though, as anger blossoms in his chest.

"do not touch her," he scolds the curse occupying his body.

a mouth appears on his cheek and scoffs. "sure. i'll just let her die next time."

"it's okay, yu," you interject before he can retaliate. "thanks, sukuna. i, uh, appreciate it."

he grumbles something incomprehensible, his mouth quickly disappearing. your boyfriend looks at you bemused, but you only shrug. the fact that yuuji had lost control to sukuna doesn't make you feel nervous or threatened. you're grateful that he kept you from being run over, albeit a bit surprised.

as you continue your walk to the the sushi restaurant, you find yourself not quite able to meet yuuji's eye because... well... you haven't exactly been forthright regarding your relationship with the king of curses.

the first night it happens, you're laying in bed eagerly finishing the final volume of a manga you've been reading. yuuji is fast asleep and has been for hours, though you're used to being the night owl in the relationship.

you keep wiping at your eyes, the cheerful ending tugging at your heartstrings and tying the story together in a beautiful way.

"can you stop with your incessant sniveling? this idiot's brain is so rarely quiet and you're ruining it."

you look over to see the eye beneath your boyfriend's is open, staring at you scornfully.

"can you fuck off?" your tone is obviously meant to mock him. "i'm finishing one of my favorite mangas and you're ruining it."

"need i remind you of your place, brat?" he sneers. "it's dreadfully wretched, crying because you don't like the ending to some stupid story."

"since you're so clearly invested, i'll have you know i'm crying because i do like it."

"..and here i thought you couldn't get any more pathetic."

your eye twitches in annoyance. "just because you're mad about being stuck in 'some idiot human's body' doesn't mean you have to go around projecting your feelings of inadequacy onto other people."

you move your hand to cover the mouth on your boyfriend's cheek before sukuna can respond, hissing out in pain just a moment later.

"oh my god, you actually bit me." you inspect the teethmarks on your palm in disbelief.

"just wait until i win control of this body— the punishment you deserve for such insolence. you'd better hope you're miles away, but even then—"

"holy shit, enough already. i'll go to sleep. enjoy your peace and quiet," you growl angrily, flipping off the lamp and turning away from him. for some reason, you still find yourself mumbling, "good night."

sukuna's eye widens before promptly closing, the silence hanging in the air heavily. it's the longest conversation he's had in years and the first casual pleasantry he's heard in a millenia. he tries to feel satisfied that he got what he wanted in the end, before returning to his quiet solitude.

over the next few months, your late nights are graced somewhat frequently by the king of curses. he mainly complains— the friends you hung out with earlier were annoying, the tv's too loud, it took yuuji twenty minutes to exorcise a curse that sukuna could have dealt with in seconds.

it doesn't bother you nearly as much anymore and he's no longer able to get under your skin like he did that first night. it seems as if he's losing his touch, or perhaps he just isn't trying as hard.

it's around one in the morning, a book resting in your lap while your boyfriend snores softly beside you. sukuna's eye pops open, peering over at the text. "you're reading homer?"

your body jerks, startled by his sudden question, but you recover soon thereafter. "yeah, were you two friends or something?"

"no, you fool," he derides. "he lived far before my time."

though you don't comment on it, you find it amusing that your sarcasm had gone over his head. "oh, you're right. how silly of me to think you had friends."

"such profound witticism. i can hardly contain myself."

you sneak a glance over to find he's narrowed his eye at you and you actually giggle. "sorry."

it doesn't dawn on you how bizarre the interaction is, but sukuna abruptly realizes that something feels different. not once before tonight had he made you laugh.

he pushes the thought from his mind. "i did, however, indulge in his works during the heian period."

"really?" you perk up. it's not often you give him your full attention. "what'd you think?"

"i suppose i liked him well enough. one of my favorite lines comes from the poem you're reading."

you motion your hand for him to continue. "well don't be shy. i'm sitting here with bated breath."

he rolls his eye, but speaks nonetheless.

"men are so quick to blame the gods— they say that we devise their misery..." you realize for the first time how gruff his voice is, the deep reverberations sending a shudder down your spine. "but they themselves, in their depravity, design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."

his eye flickers between each of yours before you look back to your book, fiddling with the corner of the page. you're suddenly feeling rather shy. "does that mean you think humans are even crueler than you?"

he muses over your question briefly.

"if i recounted how men would flee the villages i burned, leaving their families behind in a selfish attempt to save themselves.. who would you find more revolting?

you swallow nervously. "i.. i don't know."

"what if i told you of the men who would eagerly offer their wives and daughters to me, hoping i'd spare them.. who would you deem more wicked?"

you're so busy avoiding his gaze that you don't see the way he carefully regards you. a question you're unsure you want the answer to tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. "did you accept? the.. the husbands' offers—"

"no," he responds. "i have little interest in unwilling partners."

"oh. well that's, um, good."

he hums in response, leaving you to process everything he's told you.

"you should stop," you blurt out eventually.

"stop what?"

"being nice to me." you wouldn't normally consider discussing literature then reminiscing about the egregious stories of his past life particularly kind, but then again, it is sukuna you're speaking with. "it's weird."

he rolls his eye again. "you're hardly in any position to be giving me orders, you insufferable brat."

"see? that's much better."

"why are you crying?" his tone is even, conveying neither annoyance or concern. truthfully, he has no idea what compelled him to ask in the first place.

you don't answer, hoping he'll leave you alone. you really don't have it in you tonight, even if sukuna's been much more tolerable recently. it's been weeks since you finished reading homer's epic poem.

the moon is already setting and it's just a few days before your date at the sushi restaurant.

when you sniffle again, he calls your name. you don't register that he doesn't say brat or idiot. it's the first time he's used your actual name.

"w-what do you want?"

"i seem to recall asking you a question."

you're laying on your side, facing away from yuuji and by extension, sukuna.

"i'm not crying," you declare.

sukuna briefly wonders why he's stuck dealing with you while yuuji sleeps, but his inward 'annoyance' is half hearted. "you're an awful liar."

you exhale and turn to look at him. the only light in the room is coming from the tv, but it's enough that he can see you clearly. "sometimes.. i can't help but worry about the execution."

yuuji has told you countless times that gojo has a plan, that he won't let anything happen, but you know what the higher ups are capable of.

and while it's down right shameful, you know that much, it's not only your boyfriend you worry about these days. sukuna's become so commonplace in your life, you almost look forward to talking with him at night.

"the thought of losing yuuji... of losing.. you.. it scares me," you murmur.

your words stir up feelings he's never once experienced and it's confusing to him. "i'd have figured you'd at least be pleased to be rid of me."

"well, i-i kind of thought we were friends now," you share without thinking.

"don't flatter yourself."

he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth and the guilt he feels as he watches your face fall is unbecoming of a being so powerful. you apologize meekly, shifting (too late) to hide your hurt.

he can't remember a moment in which he's hated being trapped in his vessel's god forsaken body more. he wants to reach out to you, even if the idea feels entirely foreign to him.

but he can't, so he just sighs. "if you think i'm going to let a few feebleminded sorcerers execute me and the brat, you're even more foolish than i thought."

you peer at him, the smallest smile gracing your lips when you realize that's probably as close to an apology as sukuna would ever get.

"promise?"

for fuck's sake. he feels utterly pathetic. completely deplorable. laughable, even—

"yes," he states impassively. "now go to sleep."

"okay." your smile is just a little wider as your fingertips brush the spot below his eye and above his mouth. you wonder if he can even feel it. "good night, sukuna."

"...night, brat."

less than a week after sukuna saves your life at the intersection, yuuji kisses you goodbye as he heads out to a mission. he assures you he'll be early tonight, as he only has to exorcise a semi-grade one cursed spirit in roppongi.

though things don't go quite as planned because in addition to the semi-grade, he finds himself standing before two special grades. he manages to defeat one of the special grades, but the other two leave him badly hurt, his breathing labored.

he has to beg sukuna to switch out with him. the king of curses hasn't forgotten his promise to you and he's no fool— it's clear this is an ambush by the higher ups— but he'll be damned if he wasn't going to have a little fun with the brat first.

he makes quick work of the curses, each of them going rigid with fear as soon as he appears, and it soon becomes apparent that yuuji is too weakened to take back control of his body just yet.

at last, sukuna has his long yearned for freedom and a new world at his fingertips, but there's just one problem... all he wants to do is find you.

when the lock to your apartment clicks, your eyes shift to the door, an excited grin on your face. you can't hide your shock when it isn't your boyfriend that steps inside.

you don't say anything at first, simply following his frame across the room as he approaches you. he leans against the wall a few feet away from where you're sitting on the couch, folding his arms across his chest.

"seems your concerns about the execution weren't unwarranted."

"w-what?!" you exclaim, rising to your feet and taking a step toward him. "what happened?"

he relays the story to you, emphasizing how 'unimpressive' yuuji's power was and how 'terribly simple' it was for him to finish the job his vessel couldn't.

you narrow your eyes at him, only half joking when you ask, "what are you doing here, then? shouldn't you be off pillaging tokyo or something?"

he chuckles. "such a dark mind you have. it wounds me to hear you assume the worst of me."

you bite your lip to hide your smile. "just figured it'd save time."

he closes the space between you and though you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you don't shy away from him. instead, your eyes trail over the dark lines adorning his face and chest.

he reaches up and your breath catches in your throat when the back of his fingers ghost over your neck. his nails graze your skin and a sly smirk forms on his face. "aren't you frightened? it'd be all too easy to kill a little thing like you."

"but you won't."

he can't tell if your assuredness pisses him off, but it certainly makes his heart rate pick up. his hand now occupies the space where your neck meets your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "what has you so convinced?"

"well you saved me, didn't you? and.. and you kept your promise."

he hums in response and your hand seems to act of its own accord when it reaches up to rest atop his. any lingering sense of amusement is gone in an instant, the air now fraught with tension.

"so why are you here, sukuna?" you murmur.

the king of curses has never known goodness. he's wrought untold destruction and misery, his name inspiring fear even after millenia. he's a legend— a god, even— yet here you are staring up at him and he swears the look in your eyes is almost tender.

"i don't know."

"and you had the nerve to call me an awful liar."

you know you're taking a risk when you lean up and press your lips to his. he freezes for a moment before his mouth begins to move against yours tentatively. his arm stays at his side, so you grab his hand, moving it to your waist.

it's as if that flips a switch in sukuna. he backs you up against the wall somewhat roughly and you can feel him smile against your lips when you let out a squeak of surprise.

he uses the opportunity to take your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before moving to your neck with the intention of leaving a trail of marks across your delicate flesh.

you know you should care, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. you're too preoccupied with the feeling. he revels in the little gasps he's pulling from your throat, in the way you grab weakly at his biceps.

"you are divine, kitten," he growls. "been waiting so long to touch you."

just as he finishes speaking, he pulls back a few inches and his body stiffens.

"damn it. not now, you stupid brat—"

the words die in his throat as the black lines begin to fade and you're met with the perplexed face of your boyfriend. he breaths out your name, clearly worried. "what.. what happened?"

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

6K notes · View notes

joonberriess · 1 year ago

Text

d o i w a n n a k n o w

p a i r i n g : jungkook x reader

g e n r e : stalker-yandere au.

t a g s : obsessive!jk, stalking, yandere, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-con to dub-con (oc gives in but these are heavy non-con/dub-con elements), fingering, spanking, degradation, dirty talk (lots lmao), talks of baby-trapping, BREEDING KINK, unprotected sex, masturbation, hidden cameras, voyeurism, slut shaming(?), pussy spanking (doesn’t happen as much like you think it does lmao), blow jobs, head-pusher!jk, talks of imprisonment, actual imprisonment, there’s a cage for .2 seconds, dark!seven au, jk has lots of pet names, JK IS A SEX ADDICT AND WALKING RED FLAG, stockholm syndrome(?) debatable but tagging to be safe, morally grey!oc, oc is a anxiety ball, mentions of hoseok, oc has horny guilt LMAO, implied pregnancy, jk is CRAZY, size differences, jk corners oc a lot, face fucking, cum swallowing, lmk if i missed a tag!!

w o r d c o u n t : 19.8 k

s u m m a r y : “Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for someone new. Now I’ve thought it through, crawlin’ back to you,”

How long has it been? Weeks? Days? Months. You weren’t keeping count anymore—haven’t been ever since that happened. You make your way through the busy crowd, headphones plugged in and some depressing song from your playlist ringing softly through both ears. It’s cloudy and breezy—a gloomy sight—you think there’s a chance for rain later on.

“Excuse me.” You mumble under your breath and push past everyone, bumping occasionally into someone.

Every so often an uneasy feeling creeps up your spine, like you’re being watched or something. He’s here, a sinister little voice says in the deepest crevices of your mind. Your breathing picks up and you turn your head, vision hazy from how fast you’re walking to keep up with the traffic flow.

Blurry—just faceless people going about their day and trying to get to their destinations.

You slow down a tiny bit, your earbud hanging out of one ear as you take one good look around your surroundings. Nothing, just stores and faceless people combined with the sounds of beeping cars and engines that become background noise. You find yourself staring ahead of yourself, a grim expression and your lips pursed.

“I’m losing it..” You whisper.

You turn back around when you hear it. “y/n.” Your body goes stiff, his voice alone sends you into an anxiety-ridden frenzy.

Your breathing picks up and your feet start moving faster and faster. You keep looking back in all sorts of directions trying to pinpoint his exact location. The entire world feels like a blur, there’s so many voices all around you start wondering if they’re all him. It’s a nightmare-ish hell not knowing which one of them is him—or rather could be him.

“...Jungkook.” You quietly whisper.

Slowly, the world comes to a halt once more—everything falls back into place—you flinch as droplets of water hit your face. The sounds of traffic bring you out of your trance and suddenly you feel like you have room to breathe again. You settle one hand over your chest and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“y/n.” A startled scream slips past your lips as you shudder violently and spin around. Jungkook’s arms constrict your movements with the way he wraps himself around you.

“Jungkook–let me go..!” You curl into yourself and try to move away, no one bats an eye as you two stand in the middle of the crosswalk in the midst of the crowd. Your smaller hands grip his forearms weakly as you desperately try to shove him off, “What are you doing, let me go.” You repeat, a bit more forceful this time.

Jungkook only grins down at you and tugs you closer, “C’mon baby don’t be like that. How long’s it been? Weeks? Months? I know that you miss me deep down as much as I miss you.” He whispers down in your ear in that low husky tone he always spoke in whenever you two were pressed up like this. “Don’t be so cruel sweetheart and give me a kiss.” He dips his head down but you move at the last second causing his lips to drag along your cheek.

You level him with a stare, “I don’t miss you at all, in fact I haven’t thought about you for months now,” you push against him with a grunt of frustration because he doesn’t budge, “My answer was no the last time and it’s no this time, what can’t you understand?”

“Because I know you’re lying to yourself. You say this but when I ask you to look me in the eye, you can’t baby.” Jungkook turns to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek once more, “I know you still want me—us.” He pulls back to look deep in your eyes, forehead against forehead.

Your eyes drop down to his lips and a sense of familiarity washes over you. You recall the times he had his lips on yours, from how soft his kisses could be to the way he kissed you with such passion/force like his life depended on it. Your eyes slowly find his own and for a second you forget you’re both in the middle of a cross walk in the sprinkling rain.

“Don’t think baby,” Jungkook whispers as he leans down, “just feel.”

A loud honk suddenly shatters the illusion, you flinch from the loud noise and yank yourself back. You hear Jungkook curse under his breath, “Don’t follow me, I mean it Jungkook.” Your voice is wobbly but you do your best to sound firm.

You quickly turn on your heels and surf through the crowds of people, ignoring their pointed looks from your shoving. The metro is twice as crowded (more than usual), you easily blend in with everyone else on the platform. Occasionally you look over your shoulder to see if he followed but you see nothing.

The familiar sound of a piano begins playing in your ear, you slip your other earbud back in and lean against the pillar as you wait for the train to make its stop.

“I put a spell on you,

because you’re mine,

You better stop the things you do,

I tell you, I ain’t lying,

I ain’t lying,”

The train comes to a screeching halt and you push yourself off the wall, heading for the opened doors. You tuck yourself near the corner of the train in front of these old grandmas and group of highschool teens. You hold on to the pole in front of you and let out a breath of relief, heart coming to a slow and calm beat.

You always get like this after seeing Jungkook, he works you up into a frenzy and when you run off you’re left with a stupid adrenaline high that takes what seems like forever to come down from. You’re always left with an ugly feeling in your stomach, dread clouding your senses and an immense amount of guilt. One of these days you feel like you’ll give in all over again.

Jungkook just makes it so difficult.

At first it didn’t bother you fresh out of the breakup, you had been clouded with anger and frustration the first weeks. Then when weeks turned to months of him trying to get you back you started falling into denial.

Was the breakup something you wanted? Why did you seem to enjoy the way he begged for you? No matter how hard you tried to push those thoughts away a ugly little voice in your head was always there to remind you.

‘Admit it, you want to let him in.’ It’d say. You do, but no one has to know that’s how you really feel.

Someone taps you on the shoulder nearly making you jump out of your skin as you turn to look at them. Some girl stands with an apologetic look on her face, “Sorry, I’m just trying to pass through.”

You shake your head and step aside, “No, excuse me.” You mumble out and look up at the window, finding a reflection of yourself staring right back.

The loud screeching noises of the train coming to another stop has you casually looking to the side. The doors open and more people get on, some exit and others like you stay put. However, right as the doors close that's when you see him.. Your heart picks up again and you stare directly back at Jungkook who’s standing there with a devious look on his face.

“No, no, no,” you turn around and look for a way out, the next stop isn’t for another five minutes and you’re running out of space to get away so running off isn’t the best option you have right now.

You start backing away, slipping through the crowd and whipping your head back and forth in time to see Jungkook advancing towards you with a predatory look in his eye. He’s zeroing in on you making his way through the people blocking his way. Your breath hitches as your back finally hits the wall, there’s nowhere else to run anymore, and Jungkook knows this too.

“Running from me again?” He chuckles as he cages you in between him and the wall. He sets his hands on either side of you, effectively trapping you in. Your eyes dart around but no one seems to be paying attention, it’s times like these you wished people weren’t actually minding their own business.

“I know you miss me,” his breath is hot against your ear, it sends chills down your spine and has you shuddering in a pleasant way, “I know you want me..” He drops one hand down to your hip, gently caressing over it with his thumb, “Can’t you feel how much I miss you?” He breathes out and presses right up against you.

Your face grows hot in arousal, you can feel the print of his hard cock right up against your thigh pressing dangerously close. You bite back a low whimper and look up at Jungkook, “I-I,”

He gently shushes you, “Remember what I said baby: don’t think, feel.” He slides his lips against yours.

The kiss re-awakens the once hidden desire you had stored away in the darkest corners of your mind. Your eyes flutter shut and you tangle one hand in his hair, the other curls around his neck and holds him down against you. Jungkook seems to like that a lot because he lets out a muffled moan in your mouth, the hand he had on your waist now moving down behind to your ass.

You can hear the train coming to a stop and your eyes open as you take the opportunity to look over his shoulder. People are gathering their things and standing from their seats, you know this isn’t your stop but hell, you’d rather walk the extra three blocks to get to work than be stuck on the train with Jungkook.

“Baby,” he mumbles against your lip and desperately paws at your jeans.

The second he pulls off your lips you duck under his arm, he turns to swiftly grab your arm and try to reel you back in. He misses you by a few centimeters.

“Goodbye Jungkook.” You whisper and disappear in the crowd of people leaving him there by himself with the same hunger in his eyes he had earlier.

When you step out onto the platform you slip your headphones back in trying to calm your racing heart once again, the song playing becoming an eerie reminder.

“Do I wanna know?

If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go)

Was sort of hoping that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know)

That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day,”

Jungkook and you once had been happy together, you weren’t going to deny that.

You had met through one of the rare nights you went out with friends for drinks and food. Your closest friend, Seulgi, had been the one to introduce you two, she thought he’d be perfect for you. Seulgi had NOT been joking around when she said you’d like Jungkook.

You both talked the entire night finding each other much more interesting than the alcohol that sat untouched. He had you hooked with his precious little bunny smile and playful nature, sure he had been touchy but who said you weren’t a little touch-starved yourself? You found yourself craving more of him, leaning into his touch and giving into his cute antics.

The night ended with Jungkook asking for your number and promising you a private date later in the week. Dating Jungkook was a different story however.

Jungkook was..different. You weren’t exactly used to the princess treatment and sudden obsession over you when you both began dating, you liked to think you didn’t like it but sometimes you weren’t so sure if you were saying that to convince yourself. Jungkook didn’t seem to have a single care for the world if it wasn’t about you. He was possessive, obsessive, jealous—everything that you should have looked out for according to the damn book.

Yet you didn’t, you stayed by his side like a moth drawn to the flame. Jungkook had single-handedly managed to become your entire world, poisoning your mind with his sweet words and passionate kisses. He made you forget about everything, until there was nothing but him left..

Jungkook had come clean about his sex addiction even before you two started getting serious. You sat in silence when he opened up about his struggles and how it impacted his life. In a way you felt sorry for him, it was clear he didn’t ask to be going through this. Oh how you were a fool..

Jungkook stopped completely going to his sessions once you two made it official, at first you were worried but Jungkook always reassured you that it was fine. You let it slide for the first couple of months because you were stuck in the honeymoon phase of your relationship with Jungkook, too blinded to really see the problems brewing.

His addiction became an inconvenience and disturbance in your lives. He went from fucking you at least two times a day to full blown whenever he could get his hands on you. It started off tame until he resorted to fucking you in places where you two could surely be caught. He’d bend to whisper darkly in your ear before whisking you away to some place “private”, where he proceeded to fuck the living daylights out of you.

You could never really resist his charms and begging whenever he wanted to fuck you. A sick part of you loved this—how he would pick you up like nothing and manhandle you to his liking, how he’d take what was his and worship the very ground you walked on. It gave you a sick thrill knowing you had him around your finger, but all good things have to come to an end don’t they?

You come to the realization through Seulgi. “That’s not a relationship y/n,” she said, “it’s unhealthy for you and him to go on like this, this is more like an exclusive friends-with-benefits.”

After hearing that you questioned everything in your relationship with Jungkook. So you did what you thought was the best in this situation: you left.

You had felt horrible but what else could you have done? Jungkook wasn’t proving to you that he was going to try to get help again, and if he said he was going to he’d simply go for one or two meetings and then go back to that vicious cycle—and you were tired of it (physically and mentally).

Oh how you’d come to regret it.

“Hey y/n, I think there’s someone here to see you? I don’t know he didn’t tell me who he was but uh he told me to tell you he’s waiting for you down in the lobby.” One of your co-workers said as soon as you walked into the office.

You gave her a quizzical look but she merely shrugged and went back to work. Trying to think of who it could be, you check your phone to see if anyone you knew texted you over coming to visit. It couldn’t have been Seulgi, she always called you ten minutes beforehand to let you know she was on her way. You don’t live close to family like that so they were out of the question.

“Oh.” Realization dawns on you, “Jungkook.” You whisper and hurriedly run to the elevators, hitting the first floor button a bit too rough. “What does he want now?” First the train station, now your job? Were you safe ANYWHERE?

The elevator dinged and you stepped out, looking around for the tall curly headed fuck who decided to yet again come bother you. You spotted him sitting there with a grin on his face as he stared at you from afar. With clenched fists you walk over, “We’ll talk outside.” You say through gritted teeth.

Jungkook lets a low whistle slip from his lips, “Whatever you say.” He follows after you with a lazy strut, his eyes practically glued to your ass. You don’t even have to look to know.

“What do you want now Jungkook?” You say without turning to look at him, you stand in front of a food truck cafe(?) just a little ways down the street. “I thought I made it clear the last time we spoke about us.” You smile briefly at the food truck employee and place an order in for the two of you.

“Damn baby you’re so cold, not even a how are you Jungkook? Have you been eating okay or anything?” Jungkook chuckles, “When did you become so mean?”

You side-eye him in disbelief, “Me, mean? When I’m literally the one being followed and stalked by you everyday since we broke up?” You say softly as you take both drinks and hold one out to him.

Jungkook takes an annoyingly loud sip from his drink, grinning from ear to ear when he sees your annoyed expression, “I don’t see it as stalking, in fact I’m the one running around chasing after you just trying to get back together. You’re the one whose got it fucked in the head if you think I’m stalking you, unless you’re into that shit baby. I know you were into some weird shit but this?” He snorts.

You don’t reply because you don’t trust your voice, or anything you have to say as a matter of fact. “Right.” He gives you a shit-eating grin while leaning against the food truck, “Admit it baby, you like it, I always knew you were a little fucked in the head but this? You like the chase?” He steps closer.

The silence feels so loud between you two afterwards, you can’t look him in the eye right now. “Look,” you sigh softly, “I have to go.” You shake your head and give him one last look before you turn and head back to your job.

He doesn’t follow this time.

. . .

“Secrets I have held in my heart,

Are harder to hide than I thought,

Maybe I just wanna be yours,

I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours,”

Jungkook sang under his breath while he sorted out a few wires, “Wanna be yours,” he trails off and lifts up the object he’s holding in his hand, “I wanna be your vacuum cleaner, breathing in your dust,” he whistles and walks towards the large glass window pane, “wanna be yourssss,” he ends with a soft little whistle note as he gets up on the small ladder he has with him.

“That should do it.” Jungkook hums to himself, admiring his own handiwork. Jungkook takes a step back and looks around the room with a satisfied hum, when he deems everything fit he heads out, making sure not a single thing is displaced. “I just wanna be yours, wanna be yours…”

A small green check mark lights up his phone, a robotic voice following shortly after, “Welcome, your new security camera system is now: activated.”

“So you haven’t gone out or anything with anyone? I mean I kinda figured since it’s been like a few months since all that happened.” Seulgi off-handedly says while stirring her drink around with her straw, “C’monnnn you haven’t thought about it at least once?” She pouts.

You shake your head fondly, “No not really. I kinda don’t have time to think about stuff like that, got a big project coming up and you know how that gets..” You sheepishly reply with a shoulder shrug.

Seulgi gives you a ‘I know you’re lying’ look, “Sureeeee, I can count this many times on my fingers the amount of guys that have either checked you out or tried to ask you on a date.” She wiggles her fingers, “Is it cause of Jungkook? Cause if it is girl forget him! You’re single now, you need to go out and live a little.”

You take a nervous sip from your drink and shake your head, “Look I don’t even know if I made the right choice in leaving him! We weren’t that unhappy, it was just his stupid sex addiction that was tiring me out! I could have just made him get some help and we would have been good,” you pout petulantly, “ ‘s just that sometimes I think I made the wrong choice.”

“Babe, I love you and all but you need to be a little stronger than that. Jungkook is the same guy who beat up another because he hit on you, we’re talking about the same Jungkook who had a unhealthy codependency with you and was pretty fucking obsessive. I’d say you dodged a fucking tank.” Seulgi scoffs, “Besides, he would have just gone and did the shit he was doing whenever you tried sending him back to therapy.”

You hated that she was right about everything. Maybe it was high time to see other people and try to get out there. Deep down the very thought of meeting someone who isn’t Jungkook didn’t settle right with you. As much as you loathed the idea you knew you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. “I don’t know..” You push your empty glass to the side.

“Hey,” Seulgi smiles sweetly and sets her hand over yours, “just think about it yeah? You don’t have to meet someone new, we can have fun in other ways like a girls trip or something!” Yeah a girls trip sounded nice.. “It’s getting late but give it some thought.”

You both pay for the tab and head out of the bar all giggles and smiles. “I’ll see you next week, yeah? Lunch is on me!” Seulgi waves after parting ways with you, “Text me when you get home!” She blows you a kiss.

You pretend to catch the kiss with a quiet chuckle, “Bye.” You wave back, “Get home safe..” You mumble softly and turn to head in the opposite direction.

It’s pretty late but you’re not too concerned given that people tended to stay out and live the night life in the city. You take one look at the night sky before plugging in your headphones, “She said goodbye, too many times before,” you mumble under your breath and lose yourself within the crowd of bustling people, unknowing of the hooded figure headed in the opposite direction.

. . .

Jungkook had his hands placed all over your body. He sported a soft grin on his face, his onyx eyes watching in glee as little moans left your lips. “There you go,” he said, “let go for me baby.” He whispers darkly and leans down to slot his lips against yours.

You lean into the kiss and whine softly, Jungkook doesn’t stop there as he brings your hips up in a bruising grip, pressing down and letting his hard cock rub against you. Your mouth waters a tiny bit just thinking about how he’d fuck you silly with that fat cock of his. It had you mewling for him, pawing at his sweats as you tried to get his cock out.

“Ah-ah,” he stops you breathlessly, “not until I say so baby.” He stares down at you with a glint in his eyes, “Let me take care of you, I’ll fuck so you good you forget all about today baby, just say the word.” He says as he presses his forehead to yours, “Go on, say it.” He whispers.

You jolt when his fingers slip between your sopping folds, rubbing up against your swollen and tender clit. “J..ungkook..” Your eyes shut in pleasure, “Please,” you grind against his hand, basically humping it at this point, “Fuck me, please, need it so bad.” You whimper.

Jungkook chuckles, “Good girl.” He leans down to bury his face in your neck, “Good fucking girl.”

Your eyes snap open and you jolt upwards in bed. You try to control your labored breathing with a hand over your wildly beating heart. “What the..” You look around your room, not a single thing misplaced. You figured it was another one of those nights—another “dream”.

“What is wrong with me..” You whisper out and bury your face in your hands, blinking away your disoriented gaze. You sit in bed like that for a few minutes calming your racing heartbeat and the throbbing you feel between your thighs.

This wasn’t the first time you’ve had a wet dream like this, it’s been a normal occurrence for weeks now. You’d go to bed then wake up soaked in sweat (and other places you don’t mention) and then go back to sleep hot and bothered. It was on repeat at this point.

Your tired eyes shifted over to the alarm clock sitting by your bedside, “Two am..” You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head, “God what is happening to me..” You mumble and lay flat on your back.

You stare at the ceiling for a few minutes just collecting your thoughts and trying to get a grip on yourself. “What is that?” You mumble in confusion and squint your eyes when you see a small red dot blinking back at you. “I must be going crazy.” You shake your head and turn on your side.

The red dot blinks the entire night, sitting so innocently up high.

“You’re single now, you need to go out and live a little.” It rings in your head the entire morning.

Even as you sit there in your private office you swear you can hear Seulgi’s words loud and clear in your ears. It’s really starting to bother you now, you’re half tempted to take your lunch early and nap or something.

After waking up from the wet dream you had tossed and turned in bed for a good hour because Seulgi kept coming up. You swear you feel like you’re going crazy, this was just as bad as getting an annoying song stuck in your head. If not even worse.

“Hey y/n,” Hoseok peeks in, “got a minute?”

You lift your head up with a tired smile, “Sure, sit down.” You gesture to the chair, “Did you need something?”

“Well kinda..? I don’t know if that’s the proper wording but yeah, but first here,” he sets a perfectly glazed cream donut on your desk, “Soojin brought some in and I figured you could use one.” He sits down across from you, “How are you?”

You look down at the delicious looking donut sitting on the paper plate, “I’ve been..okay. Not the best but you know how it is with these big projects,” you accept the donut, “what about you? How’s the presentation coming along?.”

Hoseok shrugs, “It’s going okay, can’t say I’m too enthusiastic about it but it’s whatever. Anyways, that’s not what I came for,” he sheepishly smiles, “I was wondering if you were free tonight?”

You stare back at him in awe, “Tonight? Oh, well,” your mind drifts off to the same words from last night, “I’m free..” You mumble while playing with your desk plants, “So…tonight?”

“Yeah..sure,” he sags in relief, “so..see you tonight?” He smiles.

“Tonight.” You nod smiling back at him. You’re not so sure if your own smile mirrors his enthusiasm, but you tell yourself not to think that way. He says a quick bye and runs out of your office, leaving you a tiny bit doubtful. “Damn you Seulgi..” You mutter under your breath.

When he’s for sure gone you take your phone out and begin dialing Seulgi knowing the girl is on her break by now. It rings forever and ever until it sends you to voicemail. “That’s funny..” You mumble, usually Seulgi never misses a call, and if she does she texts you during the call letting you know if she was able to talk or not. You check your messages and see nothing.

“Hmm,” you call one more time but this time the call immediately declines. She must be busy, you think as you send her a quick text. ‘Call me ASAP, I just got asked out by that one guy I told you about.’

After hitting send you think nothing of it and turn your attention back to your monitor, blissfully unaware.

. . .

The phone finally stops buzzing and Jungkook releases a sigh of relief as he shakes his head, “So fucking annoying.” He mutters while setting the device down on the counter.

He sees it light up with Instagram notifications but he can’t be too bothered with those at the moment. He stares out the window with the coffee mug brought up to his lips, it’s a beautiful day out today..reminds him so much of you..

“Flowers would be nice..” He hums, “Maybe some chocolates.”

The phone pings loudly once again—a few times at that—and this time Jungkook can’t ignore the stupid phone and peers over to look at the screen. He nearly doubles over when he sees your name on the screen, “Shit.” He hisses when a bit of coffee spills on him.

When Jungkook cleans up the mess on himself he turns the phone back on, his eyes scan over the message, almost manic and anxious. But just as quick as his smile came it was gone..it was replaced with an unbridled rage. His grip on the phone tightened until he suddenly flung it violently into the wall, hearing the screen shatter and clank to the ground loudly. He was trembling with rage.

“So it’s gonna be like that..? Just gonna..throw me away?” He mutters darkly while staring blankly at the wall, “Cute.”

“Gave you all the money, gave you all my heart, your masquerade party, I was fucking drunk,”

You hum while taking a sip from your glass of wine, mindful of the baby pink robe you had on. It had been about a good hour with you just sitting there in front of your vanity listening to music and drinking wine. Seulgi still hadn’t gotten back to you—let alone open the messages you left her—you were getting worried now, half-tempted to call her again. You decide against it though because Hoseok messages you about the restaurant.

“Ugh…where are you,” you mutter quietly while tapping on Seulgi’s profile in hopes of her being active on Instagram, “could really use your help..” You shake your head.

You give up after seeing that she hasn’t been active at all, in fact the last time she was active was literally yesterday when you both split up after the bar. You wonder if work was kicking her ass too. “Whatever.” You send her a picture of you curled up in your chair throwing up a peace sign, ‘wish me luck xoxo’. With that you finish getting ready.

You don’t realize how much fun you’re having until you go for another sip of wine and then realize you completely drained both the glass and bottle. A soft pout forms on your lips as you drop your eyeliner over the surface, “Well that sucks.” You softly sigh as you stare at nothing (you must be tipsy given that you spaced out like three times before this). “Ugh.” You groan and push yourself off the chair.

“Stupid robe,” you shove the silky garment off, letting it pool at your feet as you stand bare in your lace panties/bra.

In your drunken haze you spot the same red blinking dot from the other night but this time it’s by your bookcase. You stop for a few seconds and stare at it before rolling your eyes, “That’s it, I’m literally going insane.” You throw on your pretty little silk dress which falls off your shoulders and manage to find both Prada loafers you were looking for all day since you got home.

You pose in the mirror for a few seconds before huffing and going to get your phone, “Seulgiiiii,” you whine into the phone, “it’s not funny anymore answer meee, I need you to tell me if I look good or not.” You lift your phone up to show your entire outfit to the camera, “Stop being a bitch,” you hiccup drunkenly, “okay gotta go, love you.” You mumble and stop recording.

With your look being done you gather your coat and purse. As you wait for the elevator doors to open you feel your phone buzz and out of curiosity you fish it out of your purse and turn it on to check it. “Finally,” you sigh in relief when you see who sent you a message, ‘looks great mama, where you guys heading?’

“Mama?” You snort but bite your lip in excitement and start typing back..

The place Hoseok chose happens to be the same restaurant Jungkook took you to when you finally broke up with him. You stand outside with pursed lips. This place was bringing back memories—ones you worked so hard to repress and store away for good—and now you were forced to come back to the only place you swore to never step foot in again. It wasn’t like it was Hoseok’s fault, how could he have known?

“Hey,” you say once Hoseok picks up the call, “no yeah I’m here, I’m outside.” You cover your ear with your other hand and walk around a bit to avoid the crowds of people walking by.

“I’m like less than five minutes away, traffics really fucking bad tonight,” Hoseok chuckles on the other line, “You should just go in, I made a reservation under my name already, that way you aren’t standing outside or anything since the weather’s bipolar as hell.”

You chuckle softly, “Okay, I’ll head inside and wait for you then,” you turn to walk back when you suddenly freeze up, body going eerily still.

“y/n? You still there?”

You stand there in sheer terror when you see who’s sitting there leaned back on top of the hood of his car. Jungkook’s eyes are already on you as he watches from afar with a soft smirk on his face. You notice that he has a large bouquet of flowers sitting in his other hand. “Y-Yeah I’m here,” you whisper, “I just dropped my purse I gotta go I’ll see you when you get here.” You hang up in a hurry and start walking faster.

“Hi baby.” Jungkook licks his lips when you’re face to face, “Don’t you look darling? What’s the special occasion?” You hate it when he looks at you like that, like he’s ready to flip your dress up and fuck the living shit out of you in front of all these people. “What’s the matter? Cat’s got your tongue.” He pushes himself off his car and comes to stand right in front of you.

You look Jungkook up and down, god he looks so good right now in his white and black striped shirt jean combo. His hair's messier than usual too, you just wanna grip it tight like you used to whenever he had his face buried between your thighs— “Baby?” He grins in amusement.

“What are you doing here?” You swallow nervously while your eyes dart back and forth. You don’t even fight it when Jungkook’s hand comes to rest on your hip his thumb rubbing over it gently

“Ain’t it obvious?” He chuckles, “Came for my baby.”

You don’t bother to ask him how he found out about you coming here, you see Hoseok’s car pull into the valet a mere few feet away from you guys. That certainly has your breathing picking up, “You need to go,” you push at his chest, “right now Jungkook, please.” You whisper out in absolute fear.

“Why?” Jungkook’s smile drops as he stares at you with a cold look. His eyes follow yours and he stares darkly at Hoseok, “Oh I see now baby, scared your new boyfriend is gonna find out?”

“Stay away,” you wheeze as you try to control your breathing while stepping back, “I swear if you ruin it I’m going to hate you forever.” You point a finger at him while rushing into the restaurant.

As your breathing evens out you jump in terror when someone’s hands come up to rest on your shoulders. “y/n! Oh shit, my bad I didn’t mean to scare you.” It’s just Hoseok..

“No it’s my fault I wasn’t looking.” You whisper with a hand over your chest, “I didn’t go because I saw you pull up and wanted to wait for you.” You finish lamely.

Hoseok can see how nervous you are right now, he looks at you like he isn’t so convinced but he doesn’t push it luckily, “Okay, let’s go.” He smiles and offers his arm to you.

As you both stand in front of the hostess you can’t help but turn back to look outside. Jungkook’s still there where you left him, staring at you and Hoseok with that knowing look in his eye. You’ve seen it before too, and it sends a tremor down your spine while Hoseok leads you away. You sincerely hope he doesn’t do what you think he’s gonna do..you don’t know if you’ll die then and there.

“I hope you don’t mind I chose this place, heard it’s really good here.” Hoseok pulls the chair out for you, “In case you’re disappointed or something, not that I’m implying that it just seems like you’re kinda lost here.” He says with a sheepish smile while taking his seat across from you.

You quickly shake your head, “No, no it’s fine. I’m just a little scared from earlier is all,” you take a large gulp of water, “You know how it is with anxiety and all that jazz.” You try to brighten the mood with a smile. Hoseok luckily lets it go rather quickly and you both fall into a comfortable conversation while the bustling restaurant behind you becomes (a rather comforting) background noise.

You quickly come to realize Hoseok’s rather pleasant to talk to. He’s the textbook definition of a gentleman with you, he makes sure to listen attentively to you and isn’t afraid to show you how invested he is in your business. You like the attention he’s giving you given that it’s been a cool minute since anyone had truly sat down to just listen to what you had to say etc. You like talking to him, a lot more than you find yourself willing to admit out loud.

You even forget about Jungkook.

“How’s the food?” He asks with a grin.

“Mmm,” you nod while wiping your lips with a napkin, “delicious, I don’t think I’ve ever been to a place where they actually made my steak the way I asked for.” You giggle shyly while hiding your smile behind your hand, “What about you?”

Hoseok shrugs, “It’s alright I guess,” this makes you burst out laughing, “what..?” He chuckles, “I’m being honest! Here, try some of mine you’ll see what I mean.” He holds his fork out to you and clearly you don’t expect him to feed you but at this point you don’t care you’re having too much fun right now.

“I like that you offered me literally what I’m already having, just slightly more medium-rare.” You snort, “You’re so funny you know that?” You lean your head against your hand with a fond smile.

“I’ve been told.” Hoseok gives you a closed-eye smile, “I think you’re funny too y/n, this might be one of my most favorite nights ever.” He slowly slides his hand over your own, just letting it sit there but you can tell he wants to hold yours.

You find eye contact too intense and avert your gaze down to your intertwined hands. It feels so right..but so wrong for some reason. The same ugly voice starts whispering things in your head, ‘He’s not Jungkook, I bet Jungkook can fuck us ten times better than this guy.’ You bite down on your lip to suppress your annoyance, you have to find a way out of this—and quick.

The interruption comes in a rather unorthodox manner as the chandelier suddenly comes plunging down right next to you guys. You jump in terror and pull back, “Oh my god–” You quickly stand up to avoid any debris. Hoseok jumps out of his seat too, rounding the table to crowd you as he asks you various questions like: “Are you okay?” or “What the hell just happened?”

Through all the commotion you see Jungkook at the bar, propped up against the mahogany wood with a toothpick in his mouth and a sinister look. You feel another wave of anxiety take over slowly as your hands become clammy and your balance a bit unstable. “I’m g-going to the restroom.” You tell Hoseok and rush away, not bothering to stop and hear whatever he has to say.

At the same time you see Jungkook push himself off the bar and start making his way over. “No, no, no.” You mumble and pick up the pace, rushing down the empty hall and towards the women’s restroom. You should be safe in there right?

The bathroom is dimly lit by the cheap fluorescent lighting, you push through and make your way into the last stall and lock yourself in there. Your breathing is labored and comes out uneven, or at least you think it’s uneven. You don’t know and you’re not exactly worried about that right now.

With an exhausted sigh you slump against the wall and let your head thud against the tile gently, “God this is a mess..” You mumble and hide your face in the palm of your hands. You sit in silence, the small buzzing sounds that the lights make keep you from wallowing in your misery as you slowly start coming to your senses.

You’re hyper aware of everything going on around you right now—the sounds of the water drops from the faucet, murmurs of staff outside, the lights—everything. You perk up when you hear the low creak the door makes as it’s pushed open. It hits the door frame with a dull thud—creaking even. You don’t give it too much thought until you hear it.

You sit straight and push yourself as far as you in the corner, trembling as the sounds of his expensive oxfords click against the tiled ground. Jungkook whistles a low tune, pushing the very first stall door open. When he finds nothing he goes to the next, then the next, and then the next. You put a hand over your mouth, watching as his shoes slowly come into view as he makes his stop right next to your stall.

When he finally comes to a halt in front of your stall he stands there calmly, whistling even more now as he patiently stands there. You stare at his shoes in horror and peek through the small crack in the door, he stands there with an intimidating yet scary smile. The whistling really sends your nerves into overdrive as you shakily reach for the latch.

With a click it unlocks, you wait with a bated breath and then slowly push it open. Jungkook slowly comes into view, he stares at you silently just taking you in with his dark eyes. You stare right back with your lips parted in a silent plea. For him? You don’t know what you want from him right now, but lucky for you, you don’t have to do too much thinking.

Jungkook grabs your face in his big hands, shoving you into the stall again as he kicks the door closed with a loud bang. His lips are on yours in seconds as he pushes you up against the tiled walls, huffing quietly against your lips as his hands come up to tug you close, body against body. You whimper in defeat and finally give into that stupid voice that plagues you in your nightmares.

You bury your hands in his hair and move your lips against his own just as passionately. He hums in approval and snakes his hand under your thigh to grip it, you take it as a sign to wrap it around his waist. With this position your throbbing little cunt is pressed right over his hips, closer than most times he’s cornered you.

“Mm..ah..Jungkook,” you whisper in between the harsh kisses, “wait–mm,” his lips sloppily claim yours kiss after kiss until saliva begins dripping down the corners of your chin. You arch your back and push your hips into his rather demandingly, “Jungkook, please.” You mewl softly while moving in slow circles against him.

“Please what baby? After you tried to give away what’s mine to that little priss outside? You think you really deserve it baby?” He growls, “You’re fuckin’ mine,” he presses you harder against the wall, “letting that motherfucker put his hands all over you…after you’ve been so mean to me and run off everytime you see me? Gonna make me beg for it sweetheart is that it? You want me to beg for that little pussy?” He cups your cunt through your panties, pressing the palm of his hand firmly against you. “Hm?”

You cry out quietly and shake your head, “No–I wasn’t gonna,” you throw your head back with gritted teeth. He interrupts you with a sharp smack against your cunt, one that has you keening in humiliation and arousal, “Jungkook..!”

“Wasn’t gonna what, hm? Were you planning on giving him this slutty little pussy after all? Were you going to lie to me sweetheart, is that it?” He growls low in your ear, “You can fuck him all you want baby,” he whispers as his fingers dip into your soaked panties, “but you know deep down no one is the same as me, no one knows your slutty little cunt better than I do baby.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as he sinks two thick fingers into your poor throbbing pussy. There’s a sloppy squelching noise that resonates between you two as he fucks his fingers deep inside. You let out shuddery breaths and cling to his shoulders, pawing at him desperately as you tighten your leg that hangs uselessly around his waist.

“Hear that baby? Bet he wouldn’t be able to get that little pussy talkin’, wouldn’t know how you like it fast and hard you filthy slut.” He leaves marks over your neck and shoulder, uncaring that your “date” was still sitting outside waiting for you to come back.

He pounds his fingers knuckle deep, brushing them up against that spot that drives you crazy. Your moans spill from your mouth uncontrollably, they go from breathy and high-pitched to loud and clear. If anyone were to walk in it’s over, for fucks sake the door isn’t even closed!

“J-Jungkook..” Your eyes slip shut and you whimper, “More,” you gasp out and tug him closer. You turn your face and slide your lips against his mouth in a slew of messy kisses and kitten licks, “Please..”

“More?” The palm of his hand smacks against your sopping folds from the force of his movements, driving his fingers in deeper (as much as it allows him to be honest). He pistons them in and out of you quickly, so fast your pussy tightens around the thick digits greedily, your orgasm building in your core steadily from the hot pleasure. “Like this? Or like this?” He purrs as he brushes against your g-spot teasingly.

“Like that..!” You throw your head back and moan, “Oh god…” You whisper, eyes clouded in tears of pleasure.

Jungkook kisses up your shoulder and towards your ear, “Let go for me baby, I got you.” He whispers hotly in your ear, “Cum all over my fingers sweet girl, make it messy like you know how to.” His wrist flicks up, fucking your pussy with his fingers almost like he’s actually fucking you—the same force and brutality.

Your legs quiver, pussy squeezing around his fingers as another dollop of slick runs down his wrist and your inner thighs onto a small puddle that formed during the finger fucking session. “Jungkook..!” You wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his, “Yeah–like that,” you whisper breathily while staring into his eyes, “gonna cum.” You bite your swollen lip and muffle your moans.

Jungkook licks his lips hungrily, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. When he feels your thigh stiffen he slots his lips against yours to swallow your moans and whimpers as you finally cum. You ride out your orgasm on his fingers by grinding back and forth on his hand. Loud whines and cries slip from your lips as you greedily fuck yourself on him, only stopping when your poor cunt throbs from overstimulation.

The air between you two is hot, everything slowly comes to a halt and you feel like you can breathe again. Jungkook’s lips slip from your own with a smacking noise as you slump against the wall whilst panting softly. Jungkook easily follows, leaving gentle little kisses all over your neck to soothe the bite marks he had been leaving prior.

“Mm–off,” you tiredly whine and shove at his arm, “ ‘s too much.” You mumble.

Jungkook lets his fingers slip out from your gaping cunt, he doesn’t bother with cleaning his fingers and merely sucks the digits in his mouth, licking them clean with a devious look on his face. Before you can even think about anything Hoseok suddenly pops back into your head. Your eyes widen when you realize you left him out there all by himself.

“Oh no, no, no,” you mumble out while pushing Jungkook off and scrambling for some toilet paper to clean yourself with, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jungkook stares at you with a brow raised given that he’s never heard this many cuss words leave your mouth ever.

“What’s wrong?” He moves to cage you in, “Where you goin’ baby?” He lazily drawls out.

“Back out there,” you snap in annoyance, all this pushing and shuffling around in the tiny ass stall has you irritated and feeling claustrophobic, “I can’t just pretend like Hoseok isn’t out there waiting for me.” You mumble while wiping at your inner thighs.

Jungkook shrugs darkly, “I can.” He says so easily, “C’mon sweetheart, forget about him.. We can go back to my place and I can fuck you so good,” he whispers out while pushing you against the wall, “can fuck you on my bed all night baby.” He grins, “Might not even make it with how sexy you look in this little dress.” He whistles.

“No Jungkook,” you sigh tiredly, “whatever happened just now is a one time thing, it shouldn’t even have happened! Especially here of all places, are you insane?” You shake your head and throw your trash out, “I mean it.” You look up at him, “Now get out of the way please.”

Jungkook licks his lips, “Give me a kiss sweetheart.” He calmly says. You stare at him in disbelief but when he makes no effort to move out of your way you timidly reach up to cup his face and bring him down for a gentle kiss. Jungkook hums softly as he pulls back with half-lidded eyes, “Come home with me.”

“Goodbye Jungkook.” You whisper and push past him as you hurry out of the bathroom. This was so not what you were planning..

“Your call cannot be connected, please try again,” A sigh of frustration leaves your lips as you hang up the call and close the app, “This is the fifth time..” You slump over on your sofa mindlessly scrolling through your messages.

It’s been a week since Seulgi suddenly went AWOL on you. You had texted her to see if she was up to go out for lunch but you got no response, and for days now her replies seemed dry and odd. Something just felt completely off with her and now you were tempted to go over to her apartment yourself to see what was going on with her. You prayed and hoped she was okay though, wherever she was.

With a fruitless sigh you toss your phone on the couch and sit there listening to the pouring rain outside. The sky was a gloomy pale blue color contrasting to the city lights below, the people walked on without a single care for the weather. You should know given that you spent your afternoon sitting in front of your large window watching the people and cars down below with a warm mug of tea on your lap.

“Seulgi..where are you.” You whisper softly while curling into your blanket. You’re watching a random tv show when suddenly a loud clap of thunder and everything around you darkens slightly. You sit there in silence staring at the once animated flat-screen. “Greatttt.” You groan out and rub your temples, “Just what I needed, perfect.” You push yourself off the couch and head over to the dinner table to turn on the candles there.

Not even a few seconds pass by when suddenly everything re-animates, you hear the sound of your microwave starting up, the tv turning back on, and the lights once again brightening the entire room. You stand there with the candle halfway in the air, a look of annoyance etched on your features. “Make up your mind will you?” You scoff and head into your room with your phone, intending to re-connect your phone to the wifi along with your other devices.

You turn your computer on with a lazy hum and let it start up while you check your phone’s connection status. You mindlessly tap on the screen, accidentally clicking your bluetooth tab instead of the wifi one. Before you exit the tab you suddenly go still, “Oh?” You see a new name sitting there instead of your usual speaker etc.

“Monitor system: 1.” You read out loud, a brow raising in confusion. Your home first off was huge, these weren’t your regular apartments—no these were massive luxury condos mixed in with penthouses. You lived on the top floor and most condos were separated handsomely with each having their own space to prevent any noise complaints. For there to be a new connection/device around only meant that it was coming from your home directly.

Your neighbor’s walls weren’t nearly as thin for your phone to reach their own wifi radius, let alone their devices. This new device was inside your apartment.

You stride over to your computer with purpose, immediately wasting no time in logging on and opening one of your newest softwares you currently had been using for work purposes. It acted as a signal tracker of all sorts, it was able to get the job done (via IP addresses of certain nearby devices). You waste no time in entering the information you needed, the sound of your fingers diligently typing away at the keyboard filling your otherwise quiet bedroom.

The computer gave you an endless source code, you read along the lines of it and came to find out it was one of those hidden cameras judging by its original source name. You scroll down a tiny bit and your breath hitches in horror, the coordinates it gave you were a mere few feet away. You wouldn’t be able to exactly pinpoint the location but knowing the signal was coming from anywhere inside of your home sent chills down your spine.

Your breathing picks up as you look around your seemingly innocent bedroom, not a thing misplaced or out of sight. You were a minimalist so it wasn’t like you had too much clutter sitting around. It can be anywhere, it can be anywhere, it can be anywhere. You repeated like a mantra in your head as you began tearing apart your bed, shoving at the pillows and comforters.

You have to find it.

. . .

Jungkook swiveled his computer chair side to side while watching the scene in front of him through his brightened computer monitors. He had three sitting around him all showing him different angles and displays. On the screen he gets a clear picture of your panicking form mindlessly throwing things around your room, looking under every crevice and surface—practically tearing your room apart to find his cameras.

“Cute.” He chuckles softly while biting his thumb, “Do you think she’ll actually find them though?” He turns his head to look at his guest with a crazed look in his eye, “Or do you think we’ll have another week with them up? I mean she’s my smart girl, ain’t a computer whiz for no reason.” He mumbles more to himself.

A low whimper—albeit muffled—comes in response, he hears shuffling behind him so he turns his chair around to look at the source of his oncoming headache. “Oh right, I forgot you can’t talk with duct tape on your mouth.” He laughs quietly while shaking his head, “I think I like you better this way though, you were always loud.” He turns back around and goes back to watching you.

“Any day now..”

The day that came after the rain was both clear and windy, you found it a perfect time to spend some time at the gym to get some things off your mind (also because you paid a hefty amount of money for this membership might as well?). You started off tame with the treadmills before you went off to some random machine, what you liked about this gym was that it was hardly ever packed. Introverts like you LOVED that.

“I watched a change in you, it’s like you never had wings,” You nod along to the song’s steady rhythm, fully enjoying the guitar in the background. The sweat was building up rather quickly as you paced yourself, you were looking forward to having a good workout today, hopefully last night's events fade away into nothing.

After you had found out about the hidden cameras, yes cameras, you went on a rampage tearing your entire house down. You were desperate to find them, not even the full blown smoking session you had after miserably failing to locate the things could soothe your poor mind and give you a night's rest. You were up tossing and turning, you think you got an hour max of sleep if anything.

Just thinking about how you failed last night is enough to have you pushing through your burning muscles and keep going. You quietly pant in frustration, face twisting in anger as you wipe the sweat from your brow. Today you weren’t going to dilly dally, you were GOING to find those pesky cameras and burn them to hell, along with whoever did this.

So far you had one obvious prime suspect, Jungkook. He knew your passcode to the house first off, put two and two together and you have yourself a (proven) theory, not a hypothesis, a theory. It would make no sense to accuse anyone else you hardly ever needed maintenance done at your place, and if an official from the apartment building came they were quick about it and under strict security measures. That’s why you paid the amount you did for your condo.

It had to be him, who else does some weird shit like this?

A huff of frustration leaves your lips as you stop for a moment to catch your breath. You close your eyes for a few seconds and count to ten before yanking one earbud out and getting up. You turn quickly and gasp when you hit a solid chest, “Shit I’m sor—Jungkook?” You peer at him in confusion and annoyance, “How did you get in here? You don’t even–ugh nevermind get out of my way.” You shake your head.

Jungkook stands there with a proud little grin on his face, arms folded over his chest as his meaty arms on display, “Workin’ hard baby?” He chuckles.

“Was, but you’re here now.” You roll your eyes and walk down the aisle of machines, “What do you want? I’m not in the best mood to deal with your antics today,” you take a deep breath, “in fact you’re the last person I wanna see right now.”

“Who’s the first?” He gives you a shit-eating grin, he ignores the ‘you’re not funny’ look you cast at him, “Relax baby, I’m just playing around. Are you always this tense?” He says as he gently grabs your shoulders and rolls the stiff muscles under his expert hands.

You suppress a tiny moan and roll your shoulders to shove him off, “Jungkook stop, I’m really not in the mood right now.” You mumble out and look at him, “Are you going to let me workout in peace or you going to bother me and waste my time?”

“Just trying to help you relax sweetheart, what’s got you this worked up for hm?” He tilts your chin up with his finger, raising a brow questioningly when you take too long to answer.

You’re stuck looking at him with glossy eyes, you just want to cry and you don’t even know why. You look off to the side and shake your head, “Come.” You grab his hand and lead him to the hallway away from everyone else, “I need you to tell me something and I want the truth Jungkook, I mean it Jungkook because if I find out you lie to me I’m so done with this and I really won’t want you near me.” You plead softly while grabbing his arms, “Are you or are you not the person who put hidden cameras in my apartment? Yes or no.”

Jungkook stands there with a look of surprise on his face, no trace of malice or nervousness anywhere. “No.” He calmly replies, “I would never do that baby,” he pulls you into his arms and runs his hand over the small of your back comfortingly, “what’s going on baby?” He whispers.

You press your cheek against his chest and hide your face, “I found out someone put cameras in my house, they’ve been watching me change, sleep, shower Jungkook.” You choke on a sob while trembling, “And I don’t know what to do. I can't find them, I've looked everywhere for them and nothing’s working!” You whine in frustration while tilting your head to look at him, “What do I do?” You whimper.

“First things first baby we need to go about this calmly or else we’ll be going in circles and go nowhere.” He says and cups your face, “Can you do that for me baby?” He asks softly watching as you nod, “Good girl, we’ll get to the bottom of this okay? I swear.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

Technically you shouldn’t have allowed that, in fact you shouldn’t even be here standing pressed up with him like this. You’re a sucker for comfort though and you need reassurance now more than ever. “I gotta go,” you whisper while pulling away.

He gently tugs you back in by your waist as he leans down with his lips ghosting over yours, “Give me a kiss sweetheart, just one.” He murmurs right before you can protest his request.

You stare at him hopelessly and bring him down for a gentle kiss, resigning to your fate since he’d most likely not let you go without a kiss. Jungkook deepens the kiss, lips moving expertly over your own with a low rumble. He cups the side of your face with his large hand and strokes over your cheek with his thumb. It elicits a moan but you slip from his grip with a wet noise, you bite your bottom lip rather roughly and stare back defiantly at him.

“You said only a kiss.” You whisper.

“I know, but I just can’t resist sweetheart.” He breathes out and hoists you up in his arms, marching down the hall to the private shower rooms.

You attack his neck in a flurry of kisses, biting down on one particular spot as payback for last time when he marked you up. He hisses low and kicks the door open to one of the stalls, immediately turning the water on. Hot water sprays over the two of you and you pull back in panic, “Shit wait my phone!” You yank your headphone out and toss your things under the door and away from the wet tile.

Jungkook doesn’t ease up in fact he pushes you against the wall and begins kissing down the column of your neck, roughly squeezing your ass through your now soaked spandex shorts. “Fuck,” he says in between kisses, “you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy baby, I came three times just thinking about your soaked little pussy on my fingers. Even now you make it so hard to control myself,” he whispers harshly against your throat.

You quiver in excitement at the thought of Jungkook beating it to the mere memory of what happened almost a WEEK ago. It had your clit throbbing pleasantly as you tilt his face to look at you, “You really think about me?” You softly murmur.

He bites his lip with a groan, like your touch is the best thing he’s ever felt, “Fuck yeah baby, every night and day. I think about all the ways I had you in my bed baby, bent over and spread open stuffed full of my cock. I can’t help it, you drive me crazy, you made me like this,” he presses his hard cock against you, “it’s your fault I’m like this baby, so take responsibility.”

You choke on a moan and bite your lip, “Sit over there,” you whisper pointing to the small ottoman in the corner, “now.” Your eyes narrow when he moves a little too slow for your liking.

Jungkook curses under his breath and lets you down, going over to the ottoman and taking a seat. He starts to push his sweats down but you stop him, “I’ll do it.” You fall to your knees on the slippery tile, your smaller hands replace his own and you tug his sweats down enough to fish his cock out.

The mushroomy head peeks out and you want to moan out loud seeing that he went commando. His cock snaps against his stomach with a wet slap, a beady string of precum dribbles out of the head and down his thick veiny shaft. Your mouth waters as you take him in your hand and stroke him slowly, listening to the low moan he lets out as his head rolls back against the wall with a dull thud.

You watch his lewd expressions closely and lean down to let your hot mouth hover over the tip, “Please baby,” he whispers, swallowing harshly. Your thighs rub together to soothe the ache you feel between them, you like this—him begging—it makes you feel like you’re in control for once. Maybe not by a lot but it greatly pleases both you and your ego.

Your lips wrap around the leaking head, tongue coming down to poke at his slit and swirl around the sensitive tip. Jungkook moans breathlessly, watching as you slowly take more and more of his cock into your mouth. Your lips are stretched obscenely around him, like you’re struggling to take him—something he’s always loved whether it be your tight little cunt or your mouth.

Jungkook grips the sides of the ottoman tightly with his knuckles turning white from his grip. You don’t like that one bit so you gently tug his hand and pull it towards your head. He gets the message and immediately buries his hand in your hair, fisting it tightly as he hisses, “Oh fuck,” his lips part as he leans his head back and swallows harshly, “like that baby, feels so fucking good.”

You choke on a whine as you struggle to take the rest of him from the sheer girth and size of him. The tip pokes the back of your throat every so often as you bob your head slowly. You missed having his cock in your mouth, the delicious weight and curve sitting so perfectly over your tongue. You find yourself eagerly swallowing around him, throat constricting around his cock as you coat his cock with a layer of slick and slobber.

“Fuck.” He growls out, his grip is unforgiving and he uses it as leverage to shove your head down on his lap until your nose is touching his pelvis. “Yes,” he gasps out, “like that, suckin’ it so good for me.”

You sputter around him and pull back with a heavy gasp with a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the head of his messy leaky cock. “C’mere,” he pants, “can I fuck your throat baby?” He rubs his thumb over your glossy lip, “Hm?” You find yourself nodding timidly, lips parting for him as he guides his cock back into your mouth.

This time you feel more prepared for it as you set your hands on his thighs and look up at him with shiny eyes. He bites his lip and starts guiding your head—up-down, up-down—until he’s completely lost in his own pleasure using your throat like a pussy pocket.

Endless strings of “shit” and “fuck” leave his lips as he uses you to get off. A few times he’ll buck his hips up but the gagging noise you make has him settling back down. Your eyes are teary and spit dribbles from the sides of your lips and on to his thighs. The filthy noises your throat makes doesn’t help at all, in fact he’s more turned on by your gagging.

“There you go baby,” he huffs, “my own little cock sleeve, only I get to have you like this huh baby? No one else.” He growls low, “Makes me wanna lock you away some place no one will ever be able to find you in, you’re mine to look at,” he shoves your head down on his lap and holds you there, “mine to fuck,” he lets you come up for air, watching you gasp and take greedy gulps, “and mine to breed.” He darkly murmurs and pushes you back down.

You whine loudly, this shouldn’t be turning you on more than it’s supposed to. Logically this was your cue to get the fuck out of there but you couldn’t. You greedily listened and took in every single word he said and pictured it in your head. Maybe he was right, you were fucked in the head.

Jungkook licks his lips darkly, “Oh? You like that don’t you baby?” His cock twitches in interest, “You like hearing how much I wanna lock you up and keep you away like a doll?” He rolls his hips and you notice how the muscles in his abdomen flex and go taut, “Or how I’m gonna breed you and keep that little pussy full of me until you’re pregnant with our baby?” He whispers.

A long moan escapes your lips as you suck hard, Jungkook’s hands drop from your head as he lets you take control once more and bob your head. You slurp and swallow around him noisily while stroking his soft balls in your hands. You’re getting all worked up now but you’re determined to make him cum down your throat.

“Fuck baby,” he gasps, “gonna cum.” His moans rise in volume until his hand is coming down to hold you in place, face pressed tightly to his hips as he cums hard. Long moans leave him as spurt after spurt of cum shoots down your throat and fills your mouth. You do nothing but happily take it and swallow it.

“Lemme see,” he whispers, breath ragged and chest heaving as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. “Good girl.” He lazily smiles when he sees that you indeed swallowed every last drop of him.

You pant quietly and rub your sore throat, you must look like a mess with your glossy swollen lips and spit in the corners of your mouth. “Jungkook, I—” you were cut off by the sounds of someone entering the showers, heading into one of their own cubicles and starting up the water. You bite your lip and shake your head, you suppose this can wait for another time.

Another time..

You’re not the same after what happened in the gym, you might have been in a lust ridden haze but you weren’t insane to think that Jungkook was playing around when he had told you all of that stuff. On one hand you were terrified of him, but a darker part of you was scared he was right. What if you did want him to lock you away like he said he would, you were more terrified of the fact that you had enjoyed his little manic moment.

However as much as you had liked it there was no denying one thing, that he was the one who put those cameras in your home. You weren’t naive, you knew what kind of man you had dated and his obsession with you knew no bounds. He was very much capable of putting those things in your home, everything just screamed his doings.

You hadn’t let him come over to “help” you look for them, instead you spent the next few days looking for them yourself. You deep cleaned every nook and cranny in your place but nothing ended up coming out of it (well at least you had a clean house now). You needed to act fast, the more you waited the more he would spiral out of control. You thought a quick hook up was going to satiate his hunger for you? Wrong.

In the last three days you went back to having more sex than you could think of, and Jungkook was restless. He cornered you outside of your work and then you guys fucked in the private parking lot. He showed up after one of your late night convenience store runs and took you back to his place and fucked you (mind you, you were on very high alert the entire time). Just yesterday he had boldly pulled you to the side in a empty alley way before work and fucked the daylights out of you.

Nothing you said or did could get him to spill accidentally or imply that he was involved anyway with your hidden camera situation. You were desperate to get a reaction out of him, something—anything to get him to slip up. So, you did the next best thing that came up in your head.

You fucked Hoseok right there on your bed, letting him spread you wide and plow your tender little pussy for Jungkook to see.

Your lips part with breathy sighs and moans slipping out of your mouth. Hoseok wasn’t a bad lover by any means, this man knew how to angle his hips and move them at a pace that definitely made your mouth water in arousal. You had one hand tangled in his hair, holding him by the back of his neck with his face tucked away in your shoulder and neck. Hoseok didn’t seem to mind, in fact he was openly moaning into your naked shoulder with his lips dragging over the soft expanse of your skin.

“Seok—right there,” you grip him tighter and bite down on your bottom lip. You hook your chin over his shoulder and stare up at the ceiling in your pleasure filled haze, lips parting in a ‘o’ as no sounds seem to leave you.

Hoseok hugs you closer to his hot body and begins moving with purpose, growling low and muttering curses in your ear. His cock strikes deep and brushes against your g-spot ever so slightly, just teetering on the edge of hitting it. Your eyes slip shut a lewd “mm” leaves you as your nails dig into his back. Hoseok turns his head and captures your lips in his, moaning deep into the kiss while grinding his hips in slow circles.

The filthy noise your pussy makes when he does so has your mouth watering from the sound. You feel more dollops of slick slide down your perineum and between your cheeks on to the bed below. Hoseok sneaks a hand below and rubs his thumb over your throbbing bud, circling the tender button and pressing down to apply pressure.

“Seok..!” You gasp and throw your head back on your pillow.

Through your blurry gaze you come across the same little red dot from before, the one you swore was the source of your undoing. You stare at it for a few seconds until you finally catch it in its blinking moments. You hide your tiny smirk by turning to bury your face in Hoseok’s neck, now you know where at least one of them was.. Won’t be long until you find the next, and the next.

You hummed a random tune under your breath while going over the mental list you made in your head on what you needed to buy for the week’s groceries. You’re feeling refreshed and happily fucked out from the night before, you swear you wouldn’t be opposed to another night like that if it ever came down to Hoseok asking you on another date.

You’re smiling to yourself when a rough hand reaches out and yanks you into the alleyway opening, you jump in terror and whip your head up to see who the deranged lunatic is. It’s just Jungkook (thankfully). “What was that for?” You shake your head and give him an exasperated look.

Jungkook looks pissed, like never before and you’re not entirely too sure whether to be scared or turned on by it. “So this is what we’re doing now huh? You finally tired of me after having your fun and leading me on like a dog in the streets?” He says in unbridled rage while looking down at you with a piercing gaze.

You squirm in his hold and try to unlatch his hand but he merely presses you into the wall more firmly and holds you there with flared nostrils. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, now let me go!” You glare, you’ve finally had it with him just tossing you around like a doll and moving you to his liking, “I said let go Jungkook!” You push him roughly and watch as he stumbles back, hitting the wall across from you as he breathes heavy in anger.

“So you’re not going to tell me about that fucker you took into your apartment last night? Hoseok was it? You let that…motherfucker put his hands all over you?” He growls in anger.

There it was, all your suspicions turned true as you stared back at him with wide eyes. How he could have known was obviously only one way, “How did you find out about that?” You softly ask.

“I saw you take him in there.” He stands with his fists clenched tightly. Oh how you should’ve known what a smooth little liar he was.

You had seen this coming in hindsight, he may have the upperhand but you were always a tad bit quicker and smarter than he was. You had made sure to use the private parking underground entrance when you and Hoseok had both gone to your place together, so there was no way of Jungkook knowing at all—well through his hidden camera of course.

“You’re lying.” You softly reply and look down at your phone with a bitter smile, “You don’t fool me Jungkook, you haven’t since the beginning.” The accusation sits on the tip of your tongue as your finger slips and accidentally presses on the call button over Seulgi’s contact. Your phone starts dialing her number and before you can hang up the call you hear it..

A faint buzzing sound in Jungkook’s pocket, growing more and more deafening to your ears as you both stand in a face-off waiting for either of you to say something. Jungkook tries to poorly mask his surprise but it’s too late—you know.

“I have to go now,” you take a step back slowly, “I just remembered a last minute phone call I have to make.” You keep a close eye on his movements while backing out of the alleyway slowly and then turning hot on your heels, you need to get the fuck out of there.

. . .

Jungkook brings the phone out and shuts it off, “Fuck..” He mutters as he paces back and forth while running a hand through his messy hair. You know. Everything he has done up until now has gone to shit, he has to speed things up, yes, there’s no telling what you’ll do now that you know everything.

“It didn’t have to be this way baby..” He slides his hands into his pockets while walking out of the alley, “If only you would come back,” he chuckles bitterly, “now look what you made me do..” He tosses Seulgi’s phone into the nearby trash.

Jungkook starts singing “do I wanna know” under his breath.

You push through the crowds of people on the sidewalk, rushing through the masses with millions of thoughts running through your head. You’re not even sure what the hell you want to do now, you contemplated going to the police but you didn’t have enough evidence to properly accuse Jungkook. If you went in there now they’d just brush it off as another crazy ex story.

Just the thought of him hurting Seulgi made your heart ache in pain as silent tears streamed down your face. Seulgi didn’t deserve this, none of it, it was your fault for having such a crazy ex boyfriend who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Now look where that got you, look where that got her..

“Fuck!” You sob out while pushing your hair out of your face and throwing your phone in pure desperation and frustration. You pace back and forth in your living room with tons of ideas but zero solutions. What were you going to do now? Jungkook was out of his fucking mind and now you were losing yours too.

You knew you had to draw him in somehow, without him growing suspicious of you and your motives. Jungkook wasn’t stupid and you couldn’t try to treat him as such because then he’d for sure lash out and your plans would be ruined. You need to lure him in, if you could somehow get him into your apartment and use it as proof that he broke in then you could go from there.

You take a seat at the dining table with your face buried in your hands, knee bouncing nervously as you take deep breaths. You know what you have to do, you’re just scared. Not of him, but of yourself. A deeper part of you wants him back, and that’s what terrifies you the most. You might not make it out of this, sane you mean.

When night falls you lay there on your bed staring up at the white ceiling with your hands over your tummy. You’re nervous, paranoia rampant in your body as you attempt to calm your nerves. You had thought about it the entire time you made dinner, the food ended up being half eaten since you were too nervous to eat properly. As you laid there only one thing was on your mind: the cameras.

During dinner you had come to the realization that you hadn’t taken the cameras out yet, and that’s when the ingenious plan came to your head. You knew he was watching—probably was right now as a matter of fact—you were going to use just that alone to get him here. How? The only way you knew how.

After lighting up your candles to ease your nerves, you dimmed the lights in your room to a low fuschia pink color. You had showered and picked the prettiest silk nightdress you owned, laying in plain view for his pleasure. With a hitched breath as you slowly bend your knees with your feet planted on the plush comforter. Your legs slowly part as you bring the dress around your hips, you hadn’t bothered with wearing any panties—your cunt laid bare in the open with slick sticking between your soft folds.

You brought your fingers down, swiping through the mess as you moan quietly when creamy slick stuck to your digits. You coated them thoroughly before bringing your fingers up to taste yourself, a low quiet whine leaving you as memories of Jungkook doing the same to you came flashing in your head. You began to imagine it was him feeding you your own slick, long rough fingers shoved down your throat as he whispered obscenities in your ear.

“Good girl,” he’d say.

Your eyes flutter shut as your other hand comes up to cup your tit gently squeezing the mound through your dress. “Suck it baby,” he’d whisper in your ear, “get my fingers nice and wet, there you go–atta girl,” another broken moan escapes as you pinch your hard nipple through the flimsy material.

“Gonna fuck you nice and slow, you’d like that baby wouldn’t you?”

You whisper a breathy ‘yes’ as you move your slick fingers down to your pussy, “Want it so bad,” you moan, “want you so bad Jungkookie,” you mewl out while rubbing the pads of your fingers against your swollen clit. “Want you just as bad as you want me,” you’re not so sure you’re lying there, “need you to take me—make me yours, wanna be yours.” Your back arches as you dip your ring finger into your greedy little puckered up hole.

“Open up for me sweetheart, gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Gonna be the best girl for you,” your head thrashes from side to side as you teasingly fuck your finger in and out of your soaked pussy, “only you baby,” you keen, “no one else, not even Hoseok.” You gasp out as your thighs shake, “Want you to come take me baby, keep me and breed me.” Your lips part in a silent ‘o’ as you fit another finger into your cunt.

Your chest heaves as you angle your fingers upwards to hit your g-spot, your cunt squelches and drips with your frenzied movements. The noises you’re making combined with the wet noises below become white noise, your heart is pounding in your chest and sweat builds on your brow. “Fuck,” you sob out in pleasure while moving your free hand and resting it around your slender neck.

The pleasure heightens as you begin to imagine it’s Jungkook looming over you, hand around your neck and his fingers buried knuckle deep in your sopping pussy. Your toes curl and you find yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, it’s right there—just a little more. You pick up the pace until you’re slamming your fingers in and out of your poor cunt, striking your g-spot head on over and over again.

“Go on and cum for me baby, be a good girl and squirt for me, I know you can. There you go sweetheart, get ‘em nice and wet for me,”

A loud sob escapes your lips as you’re locked in place, your pussy quivers and throbs slowly as jets of slick spills from you. You cum harder than ever, vision going white as your pussy throbs and goosebumps form all over your body. You physically have to close your eyes from how strong your orgasm was.

“Jungkook..” You whimper softly and let your fingers slip out of your soaked pussy. You curl up into a tiny ball on your side, panting softly as your eyes droop sleepily. You’re vaguely aware of your surroundings—the candles, the mess on your bed, the slick between your thighs.

You just want to sleep now. With a tired moan you sit up in disarray, looking around your room with dazed eyes. It was now a waiting game on whether Jungkook wanted to show or not, you just hoped you didn’t lose yourself in the process..

. . .

You wake up around midnight delirious and half asleep. After cleaning your room you had settled in for the night and went to bed dreaming of nothing in particular. If anything you were having one of the best nights of sleep before you were woken up by something or rather someone. You sit up half awake while rubbing your eyes to clear the blur from your vision.

Your apartment is deathly quiet, you sit there trying to decipher any noise but nothing comes. A beat goes by and nothing happens. You slump over with a tired sigh, “This is nonsense.” You mutter and get out of bed, you figure a glass of water will do you good and send you right back into your peaceful slumber.

You slip out of your room quietly when you hear it. The front door keypad beeps loudly as someone—or rather Jungkook—punches in the code to your apartment. You freeze mid-way down the hall, staring through the corner of the wall as the door is pushed open and Jungkook’s dark figure steps in. Everything shifts from zero to hundred real quick, you cover your mouth and run quietly down the hall to the guest bathroom, slipping in quietly and standing with your back to the door.

“Shit, shit,” you whisper, you didn’t have your phone and Jungkook was definitely going to stop in your room first before anything. You crack the door open and flinch when you hear Jungkook treading down to your room, pushing your door open slowly as he slips in quietly. You watch with a bated breath, flinching once more when you hear him laugh from inside your room.

“Oh baby is this what we’re going to do now?” He says as he re-emerges with your phone in his hand, “You wanna play a little game of hide and seek is that it?” He coos while whistling as he luckily heads back out in the opposite direction, “Okay baby, we can play your little game if you want.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before stepping out quietly, you run back into your room and grab one of your pens from your desk, “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he loudly calls out from the living room. You drop a few pens and hiss as you whip your head up to make sure he isn’t coming.

“Oh baby you must be sick in the head,” he whistles, “making me chase you like a big bad wolf.” He tuts you, “Why don’t you just come out? Just wanna talk.”

You take the opportunity to peek out of your room and throw the ballpoint pen down the hall nearby your guest bedroom door. It hits the marble floor with a loud thud, the noise deafening in your ear as you sit still and wait for him to reply. Jungkook pauses and then you hear his heavy footsteps as he passes by your room and down the hall, “Knock, knock you in here?”

You peek out and make sure he enters the guest room before you slip out and run down the hall, slipping into the open kitchen as you duck behind the marble counters.

“We didn’t have to do this the hard way sweetheart, we both know you want this—us. I saw the little show you put on for me, you looked so fucking good moaning my name like that,” Jungkook says while going into each room one by one, “Bet you wished it was my fingers in your little cunt.”

You peer over the counter, immediately ducking when you see him step back out from the hallway, “Oh the things I wanna do to you,” he whistles, “if you come out now baby all is forgiven and I can show you just how much I loved your little show baby. Don’t you want that? I’ll get on my knees and eat that little pussy out like you deserve.” He says as he steps down to the living room area.

He’s so close, your heart is hammering in your chest right now as you crawl away from the counters and to the hallway again, “I’ll treat you so good, I’ll have you dripping in no time. After I eat your cunt baby I’ll fuck you with my cock just the way you like it. Going to have you stuffed full of my cum like I promised darling.” He’s in the dining room area now.

“So just come out baby,” he says softly, “I’m begging.”

You hear him open the door to your study and you waste no time in quickly standing and making a break for it to the front door. However as you step out from behind the wall Jungkook steps in front of you with a wicked smile, “I got you,” He immediately brings you into his arms and covers your nose/mouth with a white rag.

You scream in terror and begin pounding your fists against his arms, pushing back and trying to buck his hand off your face. Jungkook hushes you gently as he kisses your ear, “It’s okay baby, just let go for me. I got you, everything’s alright.” He purrs gently in your ear while pressing the rag tighter against your face.

Your lungs burn from the lack of air, you hysterically sob and huff through your nose while the fight slowly drains from you. You’re dizzy from lack of oxygen and inhaling the strong ass chemicals. Not once does Jungkook stop comforting you while he holds your limp body. “There you go,” he coos softly, “just close your eyes..”

Your vision begins to fade in and out as you sway, you didn’t notice when his grip on you slowly eased up. The rag was no longer covering your face but the chloroform was doing its job. It made a strong wave of dizziness hit you all at once as you felt yourself fall forward. Jungkook didn’t let you hit the ground, however the last thing you heard was his soft whispering.

“What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you,” he softly sang.

Your eyes flutter open when a stray beam of sunlight hits you across the face from where you’re lying down. The first thing you notice is the windy breeze coming in through the opened window, the white curtains flowy as they move with the wind. You blink through the confusion and slowly turn your head to examine the rest of the room.

Black bars. You inch forward slowly and grab the black metal, looking up to see the same thing above you. Cage. Your breathing picks up as you begin pulling at the metal, growing more desperate by the second as you shake the cage with such force. “No, no, no,” the tears begin to flow before you can even stop them.

A strong wave of nausea and pain wafts over your tired body, you rub at your head to soothe the headache while rattling the cage handle violently. “Somebody help me..! Please, if you’re there please help me!” You sob out while falling limp, forehead pressed to the metal bars in defeat.

A few minutes of your soft sobs filling the room pass by, you perk up when the door creaks open, “Help me please,” you softly whimper while rolling your head lazily to look at this person. Your vision blurs and you blink a couple of times until Jungkook’s standing tall and clear in your peripheral.

“Might have gone a bit too overboard with the chloroform baby,” Jungkook’s face twists in worry as he squats down to your level in front of the cage, “hey, hey shh, it’s okay baby I’m here.” He reaches out to wipe your tears with his thumb.

You flinch violently and yank yourself back so fast it gives you whiplash, “Don’t fucking touch me,” you spit, “what the hell is the meaning of all this?! Tell me right now Jungkook.” You glare tiredly while curling into your side away from his reach.

Jungkook ignores you and instead pushes a glass of water and some food under the cage opening, “I bet you’re hungry, here it’s been a cool minute actually..was kinda worried you’d never wake up.” He chuckles under his breath, “Go on baby, I made your favorite.” He says as he beckons you closer.

“Jungkook,” you softly whisper, “where am I? What did you do to Seulgi—!” You yelp when the cage rattles as he slams his hand against it violently. His friendly demeanor instantly disappears once Seulgi’s name leaves your mouth.

“I’ve never liked that meddling bitch,” he growls, “she’s the reason this entire thing began and ended the way it did! Seulgi didn’t know how to keep her fuckin’ mouth shut and her head out of our business and look what happened!” He shakes his head, “But if you really must know I already let her go so you can stop asking about her. She was useful for one thing at least...won’t be worrying anytime soon about her running her mouth I bet.” He mutters more to himself.

You let out a breath of relief while sagging, “…I won’t forgive you for this Jungkook,” you softly say, “not this time. I gave you so many chances in the past but you never took me seriously and now look at you. You stooped this low because you couldn’t take no for an answer. When will you understand that I do not want to be with you, EVER.”

“You see that’s where the lying comes in,” Jungkook bitterly smiles, “I know you don’t mean that shit because you had so many chances to run to the police or better yet just ignore me and did you? No, so don’t come to me with that shit that you don’t want me because deep down I know it fucking kills you to say that you do miss me and want us.”

You stay quiet and stare back at him, of course he was right. You’re an enabler, you had so many chances to report him for stalking and harassment but did you? Maybe it was you wanting his attention but in the end you had no one to blame but yourself for indulging him and leading him on.

“When you decide to stop lying to yourself we’ll talk,” Jungkook calmly says while getting up, “drink your water and eat your food, you’ve been out for a day and a half.” He says and leaves you to your devices.

You sit there with a blank expression on your face, and the food continues to sit out all night—untouched.

. . .

Jungkook doesn’t keep you in the cage for too long, in fact he lets you out the next day and shows you around the house. It’s a two story in the middle of the woods—far from the city you presume—Jungkook doesn’t let you wander past the glass doors leading to the outside, he keeps it locked with a keypad like the front door. You can only wander around the house and lay all day as the time flies by.

It’s close to a month when you finally ask him what the date is. “Oh.” You look down at your bowl of oats and stare at it like it’s so much more interesting, “So close to a month?” You mumble more to yourself.

Jungkook hums, “Baby the fruit,” he motions to the plates of fruit he cut up for your acai bowl you wanted to make, “flies are going to get all over the food and it won’t be any good anymore.” He says as he pushes a plate of bananas towards you.

“Thanks.” You smile flatly, “Pass me the strawberries too please.” You don’t know why you’re being civil with him, in fact you kind of don’t know why you just don’t feel anything towards him—no anger, no malice, no nothing. You just kind of go back to how things were when you both were together.

Jungkook holds the plate out for you, his knuckles brush against your hand and a pleasant little shiver runs down your spine. Another thing you’ve been having issues with, you were so fucking touch-starved it was like you were itching for him to touch you. Any form of touch you greedily ate it up, however your pride stopped you from seeking him out. You refused to let him know how much he affected you.

“Thanks.” You softly say while tucking your head and distracting yourself with your acai bowl.

Jungkook smiles lovingly, “You’re welcome baby.” He gently kicks your foot with his, reminding you of your stark size difference, how his long legs easily reached yours. You bit your lip harshly, tasting the metallic tang of blood. You just hope you can hold out for longer.

These days you spend lounging around has definitely given you time to think about things. Maybe you’re fucked in the head too but you knew who exactly Jungkook was. You knew the type of person he was then and you most definitely knew now. From the very beginning you were very self-aware of his tendencies and unhealthy obsession. It was something you kept more to yourself.

When people asked if you noticed how strange he was acting you simply turned the shoulder and played the innocent card. Of course you knew, and you fucking loved it. The only REAL reason why you left was because Jungkook wasn’t listening to you and things were starting to look bad on the both of you, people were talking and you didn’t enjoy looking like the fool whenever people asked if Jungkook was planning on actually staying for his therapy sessions.

You had a thing for wanting all the bad things you shouldn’t want.

And it was too late, you had already fallen in too deep to get out.

“What you cookin?” Jungkook lazily asks as he bends low to hide his face in your shoulder, his arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you back until your back hits his chest.

“Was craving ramen.” You softly reply, the question you had already sitting on the tip of your tongue. Jungkook notices your hesitance but doesn’t comment on it, he only turns his face to kiss the side of your neck with a lazy hum. “I was wondering..” You quietly start, “Do you still..smoke?”

Jungkook pauses, “Yeah why?”

You sigh softly as he begins sucking on your neck, “Wanted to see if you could bring some pre-rolls or something. I don’t know why but my nerves have been all over the place lately and I can’t relax.” You lean your head back on his shoulder with a noncommittal hum.

Jungkook chuckles quietly, “Don’t worry baby, I have some bud stashed away. We can smoke some together right now if you want to?” He sways side to side with you, “How does that sound, hm?” He drops his head on your shoulder once more.

You nod, “Perfect.”

Jungkook has the blunt ready when you both finish eating. He lights it and hands it over to you, “Smoke as much as you want, I’ll roll another one if you finish that one.” He says as he lays back on the couch lazily while scrolling through the selection of movies and shows. You dive right in without hesitation and relax on the couch as you fill the air between you two with clouds of white.

You both pass the blunt back and forth until there’s no more of it left and you’re both staring at the TV with half-lidded eyes. Jungkook has his hands crossed behind his head as he watches whatever tv show he put on. “C’mere baby,” he smacks his lips, “wanna hold you.”

You obey easily, slipping into his lap as you lie down on top of him with your head over his heart. You listen to his heartbeat with a soft sigh, “Do we have cookie dough, wanna make some cookies.” You murmur softly while closing your eyes.

Jungkook grunts, “I think.” He replies, “Maybe, check.” He rubs your back and drops his hand down to your ass, resting it there for comfort as he squeezes your cheek through your velvet shorts.

“I will.. Give me a second.” You reply, Jungkook hums in response and everything goes quiet after that. Soon his little butt pats stop and Jungkook lays there peacefully sleeping under you. Your tired eyes drift over to him and then the front door, you close your eyes and hold your breath. It was now or never. Weed wasn’t nearly enough to make someone completely knock out for sure but you think back to the small pill bottle sitting innocently in the cupboard.

. . .

Jungkook sleepily smacks his lips as his eyelids flutter open, his vision is blurry and it takes a few minutes of blinking for him to adjust to the bright lights. He hears cupboards being slammed, drawers opened and then shut. He makes a noise of confusion and looks over with a confused look, “Baby?” He rasps out.

Your head whips over to him, “You’re awake.” You walk over calmly and hold a glass of water, “Drink.” You hold the cup up to his lips, “You’re gonna need your voice right now.”

“Huh? What for?” He notices his hands are tied behind his back on the chair, he looks down to see ropes tied around his legs as well. He looks back at you with realization coming over his face, “Baby?”

You force the cup into his mouth and make him drink the water, some of it spills out the sides of his mouth as he sputters and coughs. “Now, tell me what the code for the front door is Jungkook.” You stand in front of him with a stony expression.

Jungkook quietly chuckles, “And why exactly would I do that for hm? You think it’s that simple baby, how cute. Now untie me and all is forgotten,” he leans his head back with a long sigh, “C’mon, don’t you wanna go back to cuddling and watching that movie sweetheart? Promise I’ll even make it nice and warm for you.” He smirks devilishly.

You let out a breath of desperation and irritation, “I’m not playing around right now Jungkook. Either you give it to me now or I break through the windows and leave you here tied up.”

Jungkook looks at you with a dopey grin, “Go ahead, the nearest bus stop from here is three hours away. Won’t take long before I find you and bring you home with me baby.” He licks his lips and eyes you up and down, “Though I must say, you’re really doing wonders to me with those little shorts baby.” He purrs.

You close your eyes and count to five, “Fuck you Jungkook.” You whisper out while pacing back and forth in front of him.

“I’m righttttt here, all you gotta do is pull my cock out—” His face whips to the side as you slap him in pure anger, “and sit right on it.” He finishes with a smirk as he looks at you calmly, “Better yet, untie me, it’s the pent up stress right? I’ll give it to you so good if you just untie me baby. We can take it to the bed and have a nice night you and I,” he licks his lips.

You grab the sides of your head as you scream out in frustration, “You make my life a living hell! It’s all your fucking fault I’m like this, I couldn’t sleep for months after I left you and then you appearing out of the blue wasn’t helping me! I would have been one hundred percent better off without you coming into my life at all, you ruined me! I tried Jungkook,” you whisper, “I really did but none of them were you. No one compared, not even Hoseok. They couldn’t give me what I wanted and it’s all your fault,” you grit your teeth and stomp over to straddle him, roughly cupping his face, “so take responsibility.” You hiss.

Jungkook licks his lips as his eyes drop down to your lips and then you, “So take it,” he whispers, “take what you want.”

You stare at him for a few minutes before smashing your lips against his in a rough teeth-clashing kiss. Jungkook moans and leans into the kiss, chasing after your lips as you both roughly move against each other. He hisses when you bite down on his lower lip and tug gently. “Baby—”

“Shut the fuck up.” You glare while reaching below to push his sweats down his thighs and around his knees, “You don’t get to baby me,” you briefly stand to shove your shorts down, “not after all the hell you put me through these months. You have any idea how much I wanted you?” You climb back on to his lap once your panties come off, “No—you don’t.”

Jungkook’s mouth gapes open as he watches you lick your fingers and bring them down between your soft thighs, “So no, you’re not going to take this from me. You’re going to sit there and watch me fuck myself,” he moans loudly when the words leave your lips, “and you’re not going to touch me until I say so. If you try to rush or beg me I’m going to gag you, understood?”

“Yes baby.” He whispers back.

You circle your clit slowly with the tip of your finger to ease some tension you had. Jungkook’s eyes flicker down to watch you as you work your fingers over your clit slowly. You bite your lip to suppress your moan, thighs spreading a tiny bit more around his hips to give him more access.

“I thought about you a lot, you know?” You softly sigh while rolling your hips slowly, “Can’t tell you how many times I fucked myself thinking about you..” You cut off with a loud moan as you pop a finger inside your sopping little cunt.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he looks up to watch your face closely, “I even imagined it was you whenever I fucked someone else.” You whisper darkly in his ear while pumping your finger in and out, “Hoseok could never, didn’t even compare to your cock.” You bite his earlobe teasingly while reaching down to wrap around his cock with your free hand.

“Fuck baby,” he whines, “let me out, c’mon, I’ll fuck you so good.” He pleads softly.

You squeeze your hand around his throbbing shaft, “What did I say?” You whisper, relishing in his pained moan, “If you’re good for me I’ll let you fuck me..all, night, long.” You peck his cheek. It’s enough for Jungkook to quieten down as he pants softly. You grin in satisfaction and pop your finger out, “Open.” You press against his lips.

Jungkook easily opens his mouth and you slip your finger in, he greedily sucks and swirls his tongue around the wet digit before letting go with a low pop after he cleans your slick off. You giggle quietly and run your thumb over the head of his cock, “Missed your cock baby,” you softly smirk, “missed how well it fills me up, how fat and big it is…just right for me.” You aim the weeping head over your folds, rubbing him back and forth as you smear your slick around.

Jungkook throws his head back, “Yeah?” He breathes out, “Why don’t you slip it in baby? Fuck yourself on my cock, nice and slow.”

You let the tip catch on your hole, prodding at you stubbornly as he threatens to slip inside. “Do me a favor baby..” You whisper, watching his eyes brighten as he perks up, “Shut the fuck up.” You bring him in for a kiss, effectively shutting him up while you press his cock into you.

Your hips raise and slowly inch downwards as you slip his fat cock inside, you moan against his lips as his cock slowly slides inch for inch. You let his cock go and wrap your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as you slowly come to a halt once you sit down on his lap bottomed out. Jungkook groans low through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut as he shakes from being held back by the ropes.

“Fuck,” you sigh in pleasure while circling your hips, “so good..” You bounce on his cock lightly, the fat of your ass jiggling as you move up and down, side to side. Jungkook’s face twists in pleasure as he leans his head back. You lick your lips and watch him with close eyes, “You like that Jungkookie? Love how tight I feel around you baby?”

“God yes,” Jungkook whispers as he shudders, “love having your little pussy wrapped around my cock. Wanna stay like this forever.” He groans out, “C’mon baby, untie me and I’ll fuck you just the way you deserve. Gonna have you screaming and crying all over my cock.”

You mewl loudly and bounce faster on his lap, the very thought of him fucking you like he’s promsing is tempting you to untie him. But just as quickly as the temptation came, it goes. You end up slamming your hips down until your ass slaps against his thighs loudly, his cock slams deep and hits your g-spot. “Mmm..!” You throw your head back.

Jungkook hisses in pleasure as he mindlessly begs for you to let him go, he alternates between loud moans and slurred words. Your thighs begin to ache rather quickly and your pace begins slowing down. You switch from bouncing to grinding, rocking your hips quickly and in ways that have him gasping for more.

The poor chair begins creaking under the weight of you both, loud squelches fill the room as slick dribbles down your pussy and his cock to his balls. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as you stop to press down and work your hips in circles of eights. “Oh fuckkk..” You whisper out as your thighs tremble, “Jungkook..!” You squeal as your orgasm takes you by surprise.

Jungkook in that moment manages to untie the knots around his wrists, he pulls you closer on his lap while biting down on your shoulder, “Untie my feet, right now.” He growls, “I played your little game now it’s my turn.”

You mewl shakily and reach down to pull both knots free, he wastes no time in lifting you up as he carries you to the table, bending you over the surface. You gasp in surprise when his hand swoops down to smack you hard across your ass. “Stay still.” He growls as he lines his cock up with your pussy and shoves it in one go.

Your mouth falls open as he begins plowing your pussy like no tomorrow. Jungkook grips your hips tight while smacking his hips into your ass, watching as your cheeks collide with his pelvis. He grunts with effort and reaches down to bring the hem of his shirt up to his mouth, biting it as he holds it up to watch the way his cock disappears into your drenched pussy.

“Jungkook..!” You cry out, “P-Please, ‘s too much,” you drool while gripping the edge of the table.

The table screeches loudly as it shakes from the force of his thrusts. Jungkook reaches around to pinch and rub at your sensitive clit, ignoring your squeals and pained moans. His balls slap against your folds with wet pap sounds, you can tell by the way his pace is stuttering that he’s close to coming too. You purposely clench around him, relishing in the muffled moan he lets out.

He grabs at your hip bones painfully, digging his fingernails in as his hips stutter in their movements. He slams in once, twice, and finally a third until he goes still. His cock throbs and twitches violently as his cum fills you spurt after spurt. He releases a long moan, idly grinding in to milk his cock/orgasm.

“Fuck..” You whisper breathlessly while laying on the table with your cheek against the wood, your eyes glazed over.

Beats of silence pass by until Jungkook’s leaning over to whisper in your ear, “You’re mine baby.” He says while kissing your ear and neck.

You hum quietly and lean into his touch, “I love you.” You softly whisper, no longer against the idea of loving and wanting to be with him. Jungkook hums back, he sounds pleased with your answer as he smooths his hands over your hips. You close your eyes tiredly and lick your dry lips, hearing him utter back to you.

“I love you too baby.”

You drowned out the sounds of the people laughing and cheering in the background. You looked around the brightened room with a smile on your red painted lips, greeting some of the on-goers as they passed by you. Tonight was somewhat of a special night for you—your birthday. All your friends and family surrounded and showered you with endless gifts and praises.

However none were Jungkook.

He was pressed up against your back just laughing and talking with friends, catching up if you will. “Me and y/n decided to work things out you know? We took a last minute trip out of town and rented out a cabin to get away from everything you know?” He said.

You merely smile when they turn to look at you, “We decided to get back together.”

Everyone cheered and congratulated you both, however one person in particular stood back from the others. Seulgi. She hadn't been the same since Jungkook let her go, you can see just how much it affected her seeing him. Although Jungkook swore to you he didn’t harm her physically, the damage was already done mentally.

Seulgi stood far back from the others, eyeing you and Jungkook with both distaste and fear in her eyes. She hadn’t made a move to come talk to you at all, but you didn’t care. If anything you continued on like nothing was happening, like there wasn’t any animosity between you, her, and Jungkook. She knew better.

Jungkook smugly turns to look at Seulgi, raising his glass of wine at her as a toast before taking a sip. He curls his hand right over your tummy, where the tiniest of bumps hides underneath your dress. Seulgi can only turn away, if only they knew just how far Jeon Jungkook was willing to go in the name of love.

If only they knew the secrets you chose to keep..

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

5K notes · View notes

frenchvanilla-mase · 4 months ago

Text

fans are assholes | r. dias

summary: fans compare your pregnancy to fellow wags, leaving you to feel not so good.

notes: as requested! i don’t think i specified that it was twins but it still works. dad!ruben has to be my fav genre 🤪 i hope you all enjoy, some very cute at moments 💘 let me know what you all think! <3

IT WAS MATCH DAY, and although you were feeling rough like you had done the last 7 months, you had promised your fiancé you would make it to today’s knockout game rather than watching from home. he wanted you to support from the stadium, but he also wanted to get you out of the house too.

you were 32 weeks along and feeling very heavily pregnant.

yeah, it’s all fun and games when dating a tall man until you have to grow his unnecessarily large children.

all you wanted to do was lie down and moan this entire trimester, having nothing but a hard time with this one you were growing. you’d had every bad symptom imaginable, from the nonstop sickness and heartburn, to back and hip pain, difficulty sleeping and sore boobs, and now in the final stages you were experiencing braxton hicks, so yeah - all you did want was to lie down and whine. more than ever, you just wanted to stay in the comfort of your own home and nest.

“—you’re not even nesting though! you’re sitting here watching tv all day! get up and get ready!” rúben had said to you just yesterday morning after you’d told him you were too busy nesting to grab a coffee with him before training.

“mama, i think you should go tomorrrow . .” another sweet voice said from the sofa, glancing sympathetically in your direction.

your sweet boy, elias, didn’t want to offend you and make you feel like a slob, but he really wanted you both to go to his papa’s games. with school, you didn’t allow him to go to any late night matches which were always the majority, but tomorrow’s kickoff was 3:30pm and when he pitched the idea, you felt awful for feeling like you’d deprived him of some fun memories.

you really didn’t want to go, but your baby boy deserved it. he’d been working so hard in the last weeks of school and rúben would agree that you needed to take him - he wanted you both there just as much but he also knew not to tell a pregnant woman what to do - he wasn’t the one carrying an 8lb baby around in all summer.

“you nearly ready, baby?!” you called from your room, trying your best to look acceptable for today’s outing. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d done your makeup and styled your hair so neatly, baby dias was really kicking your butt that you hardly had any energy after a shower, let alone doing your makeup and hair.

you really needed them out so you could go back to your old self.

you didn’t remember pregnancy being this hard with eli. with him, you were able to get through the rest of school with him growing in your belly! taking notes and listening in class. sure, you had sickness and a sore back but that was really only at the start and at the end. given, you were younger and full of energy.

eli came along in the last of your teen years but you wouldn’t change anything for the world, same with rúben. he blamed that baby boy for being the reason he pushed himself so hard to get where he was today. he was such an easy pregnancy, and an easy kid.

being honest, you felt more unprepared for this new baby as a grown adult than you did as a teenager back in 2016.

with a few thuds across the landing and a solid jump at your bedroom door, you turned to see your 8-year-old all ready holding two thumbs up. with a man city kit on and trainers, he looked like rúben more than ever. seriously, if you got a photo of rúben back then, it was like looking at eli with a slightly different haircut. it scared you so much. “ready!”

traffic was always bad no matter what time you left, but you got there in one piece and already left eli with one of your closest friends and bernardo’s wife, ines, while you had to run to the bathroom even after such a short journey. jeans were longgg out of the equation so you’d gone with some loose, white trousers to go with the blue football shirt, hoping they didn’t wrinkle too much but still looked good with the outfit. “you are glowing!”

“no, it’s probably just my highlighter,” you pointed to your cheekbone as ines laughed cheerfully.

“no! you look amazing, what are you talking about?! i have missed you!” she couldn’t help but hug you again. “you’re ready to pop!”

she felt your bump and you huffed a sigh, pulling your sunglasses down, “i know, it feels like it.”

you didn’t really like being out this far along, not because you were afraid, but you were at that stage were you were starting to feel gross. like, you looked like a whale no matter what you wore or styled yourself to look like. realistically – you were one of the most beautiful pregnant women the internet had saw. truly, you may have felt like an elephant, but you were still posted on WAG accounts, getting shared by millions of women who begged they could only look as good as you when pregnant or better - envied you for still looking so hot while suffering the struggles of pregnancy.

how?! 😭❤️

life’s not fair!!!! 😫

what’s her secret?!!! 😍😭🙏🏼

but you could have gotten a thousand comments like that . . but all it took was the one bad one.

fucking hell, keep her inside 😂🫣

who is that??

🤣🤣🤣🤮🤮

a lot of the time you didn’t care because you knew how the internet worked, and you know the majority were sad-little-pathetic-football-fan men. they barely impacted you.

when it was women on the other hand . . .

“i just can’t believe one woman would say that to another woman,” you tilted your phone to show ines the replies. “what happened to the whole ‘girls help girls?’” you had to put your phone down before you ended up on a gossip page for arguing with people in your comment section.

“it’s always down to jealousy, babe. they hate you ‘cause they ain’t you,” she pointed, the same thing you had told her when she got her first negative comment, and you smiled at her attempt of making you feel better. she was such a good friend.

the internet was a weird place. your life was a weird place, you didn’t think there’d be a day people hated you for simply being with a person. you found it weird paparazzi followed you around when rúben was the famous one. you found it weird there were accounts dedicated to you when you didn’t do anything. it caught you off seeing people notice every little thing about you or knew things you forgot you’d explained. it did add a little bit of pressure knowing you were being watched and most likely compared to other beautiful WAGS. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d put on makeup in fear you’d be posted all over those news articles and WAG accounts.

you forgot how stressed matches made you until kickoff, two minutes in and already overthinking how this would go down. rúben had your heart fluttering nontheless with how he ran up and down the pitch, giving orders all sweaty and even repping the captain band for a bit. it made you feel real good about your baby daddy.

“come on, pa!” your son would shout when a bit of a ruffle would occur, his father speaking passionately to the ref with frustrating hand movements.

the halftime whistle blew and you let out a breath, fanning yourself as your body relaxed for a small moment. 0-0. “ma, i need to go to the bathroom.”

“me too, let’s go!”

perks of dating a footballer? renting out their own box for friends and family - including the private bathroom. no queues around hereee.

walking through the rows and steps, you couldn’t help but feel eyes pinned to you. ines would tell you because you’re a WAG of a player (you regret ever educating her on that term) but really you felt like it was because you looked like a whale making her way through the stands.

eli convinced you to do a lap of the stadium just once to ‘stretch your legs’ when really it was something he always liked to do as he believed it ‘made halftime pass quicker’. so hobbling around with few staff members recognising the kid (or rather seeing the clear evidence he was a mini rúben) , you strolled around the packed building, trying to squeeze past football fans, getting stopped once for a picture.

“thank you so much!”

“no worries at all,” you waved to the two girls, shooting them your kindest smile. they were so lovely, and even complimented you for ‘pulling off pregnancy so well’.

“you’re sLayiNg” eli mocked them, taking your hand.

“shut up,” you tutted. you appreciated being told you were still slaying.

“matt!”

the 8-year-old suddenly bolted to a familair security guard in a neon vest who was delighted to see the boy. “my man!”

you didn’t bother rushing over, you were out of breath as it was and decided to just lean on the wall while elias got his quick catch up, waving at matt instead. halftime was almost over. you should be heading back now.

“—not the best one though.”

“—no, sasha is definitely the best wag.”

i swear, the word ‘wag’ triggers you like nothing else.

you tried not to look around, but to your left, you could make out two bodies mingling with each other. both wearing light blue tops with stylish jeans and trainers, the two girls waiting outside the bathroom, trying to talk quietly between then in a mumbled manner.

you were a mum - you had mastered your hearing to hear the grass grow.

“–but sasha’s not pregnant?”

“–but if she was, she’d have a cute bump, not . . ”

their silence had you believe they’d glance in your direction, and it took every bone in your body not to stare dead on at them with a smile to let them know you heard every word - but you didn’t. you played oblivious and stayed watching eli, a forced sweet smile on your lips.

“–foden’s girl always has a cute little bump too!”

“–oh my god, yes. she’s stunning.”

“–he’s stunning too, to be fair.”

“eli, come on son!” you wanted to bang your head on the wall not wanting to endure the conversation anymore. now you’d tune in, you couldn’t tune out.

“–ok. bye matt! see you later,” he didn’t waste a second to return to you. “see you soon, buddy!”

you waved at matt and led him through the crowds, not meaning to hold his hand so tight until he pointed it out. “ow, ma, you’re hurting me.”

“sorry baby.” you didn’t sound sorry but you felt utterly hot and bothered. and not in the good way.

for some unreasonable reason, a small line of carts drove through the halls, and you stood against the wall as they passed by, holding your son by his shoulders. you could hear a small utter of whispers from your side but refused to turn your head. you really needed to fucking sit down.

“—dias’ girl! look at the size of her!”

“–rob that’s so mean! she’s pregnant!”

“WOW!” eli stole your attention as he almost stepped out in front of a last minute one zooming by. you smiled, and quickly manoeuvred him on your way.

“keep going, keep going,” you shuffled behind him in the stands, but stopped amidst a waiting line as someone caused hassle. your foot kicked something. “oh i’m so sorry!”

you accidentally tapped your foot to a lady’s handbag, but she smiled and waved you off. “you’re alright, don’t worry!” shortly adding, “i’m not surprised!” glancing to your belly.

it wasn’t malicious, but it was about to be the last straw of some floodgates. “ha! i know . . I’m like a whale.”

“how far along are you?” her friend asked.

“about 7-8 months,” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the fact they didn’t assure you that you didn’t look like a whale. thanks.

“oh wow!”

“i know,” you fake laughed. why wasn’t this line moving?

“is it twins or just the one?”

you tried to stop your eye twitching. who in the right kind said that?! was that . . a backhanded compliment?! what that even a compliment?! or was she genuinely asking in a stupid and nosey manner? “no, but it feels like it,” you fake laughed, and they did too. twats.

“oh my! you’re so big!”

“he or she will be a big boy or girl,” the other corrected with her pint in hand, knowing her friend’s words had just flown out of her mouth.

“yeah . .” you were done with this conversation but you didn’t dare be rude. thankfully, the line moved, and they waved goodbye. “congratulations!”

“thank you!” you replied, turning back around, mouthing absolute knobheads.

“mum, i don’t think you’re a whale,” eli’s hand patted your own that rested on his shoulder, bringing you back down to earth.

your heart thumped and although he didn’t look at you, your heart melted to a puddle as you squeezed his shoulders and ruffled his hair, knowing you’d embarrass him with a kiss. “thank you baby. you’re always to sweet to me.”

and he was. you actually . . wanted to cry. shock.

“hey!” ines greeted. “where’d you guys go?”

you only shook your head and nodded to you son who was standing again, ready and recharged for more yelling. you felt ines squeeze your hand and you looked at her, “are you ok? you look . .”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you dabbed your eyes and put your sunglasses back on. “just . . stupid stuff, and then e said something really sweet and i just,” you held your heart which made her laugh and reassure her for the time being. “ok, but . . you can tell me, y’know?”

“just being emotional,” you said the obvious, making her laugh as you leaned into her for support.

you would tell her later, but right now, you were going to use the rest of the game as your excuse to start screaming.

the game ended on a win. you saw rúben briefly when the players walked around and applauded, and eli mirrored his excitement and happiness, waving and calling to him as he spotted you guys. he was ecstatic you could make it.

it was after 6 by the time you got home and settled. you were about to order food when you second guess your options, today’s events replaying in your mind:

look at the size of her!

sasha would have a cute bump.

you’re so big!

you knew you were pregnant but there were far nicer things to say to a pregnant lady. what a bunch of assholes.

instead, you cooked some carbs up for eli and made yourself a seperate dinner, feeling the need to watch what you were eating now - you’d be giving birth soon and all those pregnancy cravings didn’t just leave when the baby came. you weren’t silly - you weren’t going to deprive yourself of food, but maybe they had a point - why wasn’t your bump considered cute? was it hard to tell you were pregnant? what were you doing differently?

you were on the verge of calling sasha and asking her what she put in her green smoothies when the door opened.

“meu amor?”

“in here champ,”

something rúben didn’t expect to see what you lying on the couch with a salad balanced on your bump, and you munching away like it was a 5-star dish. “what’s this about . . ?” he smiled sceptically, dropping his bag to the floor.

“what’s what?”

“that.” he nodded to your plate.

you shrugged. “took a notion for it.”

“for . . a salad?” he clarified, looking down at you, entertained in some sense.

your craving for the last 5 months had been anything with chocolate frosting on it. rúben had watched you talk yourself out of buying a tub of it on its own because you knew if was weird and would have to bake go use it.

“yeah.”

to be fair, the salad was tasty, and you were enjoying it but . . at 7 months pregnant? rúben tilted his head. “where’s eli?”

“is his room.”

“he had salad too?”

“he had pasta and garlic bread.”

now he knew something was up. you? not eating garlic bread? italian in general?

someone had said something to you.

he looked at you concerningly, but he was too afraid to ruin the peaceful moment. you seemed calm. he had won a game and you were in a good mood today. baby boy or girl mustn’t be giving you too much trouble so that was a win in itself. so he just leaned down and kissed you lovingly. “hi.”

“hi,” you smiled, pecking him three more times before he rose again. “well done today.”

“thank you,” his hand touched your belly for about two seconds before you swept it off smoothly with your own, squeezing it instead. you smiled up at him again, “love you.”

he kissed you again trying to hide his confusion – but something was up. you were being odd. “love you too.”

and he left and headed for eli’s room, leaving you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before slouching again and continuing with your dinner.

the rest of that evening, rúben was correct. you weren’t yourself.

your mind was somewhere else, and your head wasn’t out of your phone. constantly scrolling, you had overanalysed every picture captured of you today and tried not to nitpick. reading comments. comparing yourself. he wondered what you were doing.

but everyone else did have small bumps. everyone’s looked so cute. they didn’t use pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever they wanted or slack with self-care. they still wore tight clothing. they still looked gorgeous. you began to compare yourself to all these other wives and girlfriends on the page, wondering how on earth they looked that good.

ummmm, ‘cause maybe they’re 12 weeks along and you’re triple that?

the next morning, rúben kissed you in the kitchen before leaving. “what’s that?”

“what?”

“that,” he nodded to the drink in your hand.

“a smoothie?”

“for breakfast?”

“well yeah,” you furrowed your brows, and he immediately shook his head, pulling that judgemental, disapproving look you sometimes wanted to punch. “no, no, come on, don’t be silly, now,” he almost laughed, “you need to eat something proper.”

“it’s a smoothie, it has everything i need in it?”

“y/n, make something to eat. you’re almost 8 months pregnant for crying out loud,” he looked at you seriously. he didn’t want to sound like he was scolding you or making you feel stupid but you knew he was worried about the lack.

overprotective rúben had always been a constant in your relationship but when you were pregnant — phew, “you got my baby in there.”

“–and he or she is looked after, it’s a healthy drink—”

he took it from your hand and kissed your cheek in the process, taking it with him to training with a smirk, “stop being lazy and cook.”

you were furious. you were actually annoyed that he had taken the drink himself and didn’t find it funny. he kissed eli’s head and the door closed, and you were left highly irritated.

you couldn’t see eli shrink, but he did, looking wide-eyed at the table as he considered his dad a brave brave man in that moment to do that to you - considering the look of your face.

and as a pregnant woman with her emotional struggling to stay in check - you lost it as they all blended together once eli was dropped off at school, sitting in a car park of a café you regretted going too now that you sat with your decaf latte and triple-choc muffin. the frustration quickly turned to tears as you had a moment, eyes in your hands, thinking over everything the last couple days.

yes you were pregnant, but was there a need to be that big? were you even that big compared to others? were you really that bad to look at? that unflattering? did it even looking like you were pregnant? the loose clothing probably didn’t help, but who wanted to wear tight clothing? pregnancy was hard - it was hard to glamourise it all the time!

you’d never cried over looking bad the first time you were pregnant, maybe once or twice when a pair of jeans didn’t fit or you couldn’t reach your shoelaces, but never over the way you felt about yourself. you actually were starting to feel disgusting, and it was embarrassing because you let randomers make you feel this way!

. . and then the pathetic-ness turned into anger because why were people such assholes?! how can they not keep an opinion to themselves?! making you feel bad about your baby!

. . and then the anger turned to guilt because your sweet little baby was just trying to grow and be healthy and you were upset over it. tears again.

you didn’t know how to fix it. the damage was already done, you had a month left, there was no going back now with salads and smoothies, you yanked your paper bag with your muffin off the floor, eating your money’s worth. rúben subconsciously popped into your head as he was probably eating some fruit salad or nutritious sandwich at this time.

oh rúben. you wished he was here but you also knew you wouldn’t want him near you at the minute, not when you weren’t feeling yourself and you had people in your comments telling you he was on his way of replacing you.

he would call you stupid, but rúben just wouldn’t understand. he wouldn’t get being on the other side, the built in competition that automatically comes with being a woman, more than ever with this lifestyle he had given you. one where you’re compared left right and centre with a certain standard to achieve.

you bet every handbag you owned, he’d screw his face up and go ‘are you serious’ if you told him your issue. he knew you were above anyone commenting stupid things on your posts and found it immature of you in a way if you did take those things to heart - i mean they were nobodies! jealous nobodies! but that’s easy for him to say, his comments are flooded with never ending support, guys praising him for his talent, physique and hard work and most girls telling him to hurry up and leave you. spamming with flame and tongue emojis, thirsting over your man just the way you did, only boosting his ego more which rúben did not need.

so you just felt silly, and picked at your muffin, accepting your were going to be a whale wag.

you felt like a slob when you got back home, staying on the couch after cleaning, and then crying except you were watching a movie to blame it on that.

you still couldn’t get comments out of your head, i mean what was an ‘expired wag?!’ or a ‘busted oven?!’ what did that mean? and why always the skull emojis?!

scrolling once again through photos of comparison, you scrolled onto a beautiful pic of your beautiful bestie, ines, and straight away phoned her. “hey.”

“hey! what’s up! what’s going on? why do you sound you out of breath?”

“why do you think?” you laughed.

“girl are you crying again?!”

and you started talking. you had to get things off your chest and you needed ines to make you feel better, to assure you and let you rant, and she happily did, after all, you’d always been there when she was having a moment.

“–what did rúben say?”

“nothing, i haven’t told him anything. he’ll just tell me i’m being ridiculous.”

“he won’t!”

“ines, he would, he’s not like bernardo. rúben’s harsh!”

“so are you! which is why i can’t believe you’re still crying over this!”

he was harsh in the good way, in the same way you were. you were both practical. real. realistic. you picked each other up and told each off when you were being ridiculous. pulled each other out their asses. brought you back down to earth.

but you just needed comforted at this current moment by your girl.

as you continued to chat and laugh more than you thought, the front door opened without your acknowledgment and rubes stepped through. freshly showered after a long morning of training, he instantly heard your voice rambling over the phone. he took notice of the tissue also crumpled on the floor by the door (you’d been carelessly tossing them for dramatic effect) and paused after he thought he’d heard a sad sniffle. he closed the door quietly and crept near the living room.

“i can’t help it, i do just feel . . blegh,” you felt like you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it. “like, why does everyone keep making a big fuss about it? am i really that massively huge or am i just not liked?”

he heard another woman’s laughter on your phone and recognised her as soon as she began talking to you, “y/n, i promise no one is making a fuss of it, it probably just seems in your face all the time because you keep going back to check. i promise the world is not broadcasting you,” ines chuckled sweetly, which followed your sad laugh also.

“well the wag world does!”

“y/n!” she laughed, “you’re overthinking it. i promise you have nothing to worry about. the only person who’s opinion should matter to you is rúben’s and everybody knows he has you on a pedestal!” rúben found himself smiling. he’d always been a fan of ines. “he’s called you his wife since you came to manchester! he’s always been proud to show you off, you look good - you look amazing! people are just saying that stuff about you to make themselves feel better.”

“mm, i guess,” you sniffed, holding your forehead. “i don’t know, it’s just been getting to me . . and i’m not saying to rúben because he’ll tell me i’m being stupid. i wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaving an hour earlier in the mornings to get away from me. it’s not like my looks can make up for my psycho-ness anymore,” you joked.

“y/n!” she tried not to laugh. “though, pregnancy psycho-ness is definitely real.”

it is, rúben mentally agreed also, though his heart still sank further as he heard you talk about yourself in such ways. he didn’t want to call you ridiculous but come on, you were pregnant! didn’t they all count as compliments to a pregnant lady?!

“it is,” you let out a sigh, “i wouldn’t want to be around me either, just this big angry rhino walking around the house,” you laughed together, “he goes to a paris event on friday anyway, he’ll get a break and have plenty of french models to—”

a clear of a throat had you whipping your head to the door, seeing rúben’s hard stare. your mouth went dry. “uhhh, ines i’ll call you back.”

you felt bad hanging up as she was speaking back, too shocked you’d been heard rambling for the last couple minutes. or probably longer! how long had he been standing there?!

“listen—”

“french models?! french models, y/n.”

“rúben, it’s not in context—”

“oh i heard the context, i heard everything,” he came in the room, not one spot of happiness found on his face. he was fuming. you could tell, and disappointed too, you felt like eli getting told off by him, throwing yourself back into the couch as he stood with that gruff, intimidating look, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you don’t get it—” you could already feel the tears welling in your eyes, though a pit of frustration was brewing in your chest hot and fast. this was going one of two ways.

“what don’t i get? you don’t tell me what’s wrong when i ask you!”

“‘cause you wouldn’t understand!”

“ok but what i do understand is my wife accusing me of what? getting to pick which ‘french model’ i want to take home next week?”

now your face fell flat, realising how ridiculous and cruel that sounded. you shouldn’t accuse him of that kind of stuff.

“rubes, i just—” your mouth felt dry again. tears brimming again, you could feel how hot they were. the words were on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know how they were gonna come out.

“what is it? tell me,” he pushed, eager for you to actually get out what you wanted to say so he could help sort it. “i’m here to listen.”

and you did, you unleashed it all. “people are assholes. your fans are assholes. i’m sorry but i cannot believe the stuff people have no issue saying to other people - pregnant people at that! as if the 9 months aren’t hard enough, i have this mob of men and women on my back, judging and critiquing my every outting. i can’t do it anymore, it’s actually ruining whatever self-confidence i have left!” the tears were streaming as you began your rant, choking down sobs as you moved your hands, a fury behind all the sadness.

rúben crouched down, wanting to be nearer as you let it all out. “every day, every hour, i have someone online, reminding me off how big i am, how unflattering my paparazzi pic is, how whale-like i am! how hard it’s gonna be to shift this baby weight! i’m getting put in competition with every other pregnant wife and girlfriend of your teammate and showed how much better they pull it off! how gorgeous they look all the time! how their bumps are ‘cute’ and small and ‘suits them.’ i heard it myself at your game the other day! it’s like they’ve never seen an un-photoshopped pregnant woman before!” you met his eyes, realising you were probably being silly and that there were bigger problems in the world. “i just feel disgusting, rúben. i never felt like this with eli, i was in this perfect little bubble but this time so different. i don’t want to leave the house when i know a monstrosity of photos are getting taken of me, pointing out every flaw. i don’t have a cute, small bump! i do look like a whale! i can’t dress sexy! and i get what people are saying when they say it’ll be a bit before you can look at me again ‘cause god knows—”

“shh,” he quickly silenced you, placing a finger to your lips. his brows were furrowed as yours did, fed up of hearing you ramble about all the bad things about yourself. he felt pain in a way. he just couldn’t believe you actually thought these things about yourself. “wha— . . . are you being serious?”

“OH MY GOD!” you threw your arms up. see!

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, meu amor,” his big hands softly caressed your legs in front of him, along your smooth thighs to stop you from exploding again, “i’m sorry. it’s just . . i . . it annoys me that you let these things get to you, these random, strange people that you don’t even know. you take their opinion over mine. so mine doesn’t matter, it doesn’t count?” he looked you deeply in the eye, “how does that make sense? explain that to me.”

your head hit the cushion as you groaned but rúben held your hands comfortingly. he didn’t want to make you feel stupid, but he wanted to hear your thought process. “to me, it’s like . . you have the choice of walking into a room full of all these people who hate you, and you know the hate you, after being in one full of people you love . . and you go into the hateful one and are surprised that all these people are saying all these bad things about you when you could have just left it alone and focused on the lovely ones - from people who matter to you! who are actually in your life! do you understand?”

you nodded along, entranced by his eyes and how they were able to ground you alone. “you know that i think you’re the best thing in the world. you know i would love you if—” he thought off the top of his head, “you had 10 extra toes. a third eye. if you had a cow nose. elf ears!” your hair slipped silkily through his fingers, “you know i think you’re the most beautiful woman ever even dressed in a trash bag. i would still love you if you did wear trash bags. if you had a cow nose. if you weighed the same as a cow. if you weighed the same as a baby cow,” you broke a chuckle at that. “i’ve loved you through our ugly teen years, when i shaved my hair and your eyebrows were stick thin,” you laughed more as he let out a breath of relief, “i loved you when with vomit down your shirt and your hair dyed that weird colour—”

“rúbennn . .”

“what? and i loved you when you had eli in your stomach, and he was big baby,” his hand touched your belly, moving it in the same motion he always did because that’s when he got to feel the small kicks of this baby dias. “i loved you even more even when i saw how he came out,” he shot you a wildered look.

you facepalmed, dragging your hand down dreadfully at the thought of having to relive that moment all over again in over a months time.

his features turned as his thoughts turned sour, “why are you letting stupid fucking people affect you?”

“i don’t know . . i guess ‘cause so many people are saying it i . . it must be true to some extent—”

“y/n—”

“seriously, rúben. i don’t have a cute, small bump. ines and rebecca are always such sweet—”

“Y/N! have you SEEN the size of bernardo and phil next to me! is it any wonder they’re small! their child comes out the same size as them!” his hand shot out with passion.

now your head was in your hand with muffled laughter, caught off guard by his statement. “seriously! seriously, now you’re supposed to be the smart one,” he tried to look at you, that loving smile shining your way as his heart sang at the sound of you laughter. “you’re shocked that me, that we, have big babies . . that ines has a much smaller bump than you . . are you serious? that rebecca has a smaller bump than you? rebecca, phil and elway stacked on top of each other wouldn’t even reach the height of me!”

“rúben,” you laughed, feeling an actual blush of embarrassment coat your face at how stupid he’d made you feel, but in a good way.

he was so right. what were you thinking?

“i’m like, the biggest guy on the team! sorry i didn’t realise that was gonna be a problem for you,” you lightly hit his shoulder to wrap up the sarcasm, still giggling. he looked at you from the floor, his hands still on you, on your leg on bump — the bump that he did make look small next to his hand. “and please remember you’re a month away from giving birth, you’re supposed to be a healthy size. and i been going to training an hour earlier ‘cause i know when this one comes along, i’ll not want to go as much and i’ll want to stay with you both. i’ll start working on my dad bod . .” he felt the small, subtle movement happening inside, but he could feel them if he kept still enough.

“you’d look good with both.” you rolled your eyes.

“and you’d still look better. y/n, you’re not a whale. please stop saying that,” he finally crept to his feet, climbing on the couch on top of you, leaning his arm behind your head. “you are the most beautiful-est woman to me and no-one, NO-ONE can convince me otherwise. you’re my standard of perfect, of gorgeous and sexy and all the rest of it. i’ve found you sexy before this baby, during this baby, and after this baby — i still get comments of people telling me how ugly i look when you’re next to me! you bring my value down!”

his arm wrapped around your neck while the other threw itself over your bump, shifting and snuggling into the sofa more comfortingly, you relaxed alongside him, the tears no trickling down but with good reason behind them as you were shocked to find your love growing even more for rúben when you thought it was impossible. “i don’t know what comments you’re seeing because all i see are the ones calling you a milf, and it takes too much time to try and report them all.”

you held his hand at your shoulder, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly, over and over again. you knew how much he loved you. “yeah, you’re right. fans are just . . assholes.”

“fans are assholes,” he agreed, stroking your cheekbone, “. . don’t listen to them. you think i listen to everything they say about me?” he perked a brow.

sometimes! you wanted to say but knew better. it was rhetorical question, and you knew his sweet intentions.

“alright? i don’t so why should you? you’re hot stuff babe,” he looked at the side of your face, inspecting every little freckle and faint scar, he just wanted to never stop kissing you. “i love you the way you are. eli loves you for the way you are, and this baby,” he rubbed circles on your belly, “he or she is going to be so unbelievably lucky when they see who they have as their mam. i know it’s not the smallest bump but i think it’s the cutest i’ve ever saw, with my baby girl or boy in there,” he kissed the size of your stomach. he grew more and more excited each day as he got a day closer to meeting who was inside. he couldn’t wait. “. . who they get their good looks from and skill and personality - well, i mean i would like to take some credit for the both of those ‘cause i mean their daddy is pretty c—”

you playfully jabbed his side, making him laugh. “yeah, he’s the hottest one on the field,” you glanced at him, kissing his cheek.

one thing about him, he’d always blessed you with beautiful children.

“yeah, and their mum is coolest one at the school pick up,” his lips trailed along your cheek to your jaw, the slight scruff of his beard tickling you. “you’re the biggest milf to walk the planet–”

“rúbennn,” you chuckled, blushing at his words whilst trying to push him away.

“i’m serious,” he proceeded, peppering kissed down your neck, “and she’s coming to paris with me for the weekend so she can outshine me like she does at every event she comes to.”

you laughed at that, smiling dreamily as he proceeding to love on you.

“and eli?”

“elias gets to stay with his favourite uncle who owes a favour,” he winked.

“hmm. ok.”

“and i’ll give her a reason to cry if she starts thinking like that again,” he whispered in your ear.

your heart slipped a beat. “oh yeah?”

“ohh yeahhh,” he nodded, standing to his feet, not before a loud ‘smack’ echoed the room as he mimicked what your poor backside would get if you kept up that kind of behaviour. “see you upstairs, mama.”

you blew your hair from your face, heart thumping, your hands slowly crept up to your adorable little bump where you caressed it gently as he headed for upstairs, whispering softly, “you are soo lucky he’s your papai.”

your heart raced as he peeled his hoodie off, back muscles staring right at you as he headed for your room, you felt your insides begin to sizzle.

— but you were even luckier he was your husband.

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #rúben dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x you #ruben dias oneshot #dad!ruben #football imagine #footballer fanfic #football fanfic #footballer imagine #footballer oneshot #man city #manchester city

676 notes · View notes

krys4h · 1 month ago

Text

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 ☆

summary◞﹒୧ After growing up together and dating as teenagers, you and Sae meet again three years after your breakup at your art exhibition. Why is he there? Incomprehension and painful romantic memories will arise, buried since he broke your heart.

contents◞﹒୧ 16.6k words, pov second person, fem!reader, aged up characters, forced proximity, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, reader is a painter, no use of y/n (use ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚) second chance, happens in madrid, madrid trip, chigiri's sister is our bestie, we are close with rin, rin is a softie, itoshi brothers angst, meanie sae, sae has problems with feelings, tried to do the best characterization possible, smut, fingering, oral sex, slight choking, riding, missionary, vaginal sex, porn with feelings, english isn't my first language, alcohol, slow burnish, wedding, parties, art gallery, happy ending, minors dni.

────୨ৎ────

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 – 𝐣𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐨

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

𖥸

The sun high in the sky and the blue sky announced a promising day. The light breeze of fresh air accompanied by the warm weather made you hope for a good number of visitors to your exhibition. It was with this positive mindset that you left your studio to go to your art gallery which hosted your project.

With a lot of preparations in advance, you had managed to make the room welcoming and warm, making sure to respect your artistic direction. Pale blue flowers, almost icy silver for the winter collection aisle, and bright and vibrant flowers in the spring and summer aisle. Since your entire exhibition had the seasons as a theme, it was important for you to follow your artistic ideas.

The opening was in less than an hour, you still had time to check a few small technical things. Your hand gently caressed the soft fabric on the tables serving as a mini buffet. The caterer in charge of bringing drinks and pastries had arrived early despite the traffic jams and you smelled the sweet and vanilla scent that escaped from the small pastries. Luck seemed to be smiling to you today.

You were eyeing the mini pink cupcakes when a female voice broke the soothing silence of the empty event room.

"It's so pretty!" exclaimed your best friend, contemplating the room with stars in her eyes, spinning around to observe the room in its entirety. You giggled softly, amused and touched by her enthusiasm. Her pink hair cascaded down her back and her smile lit up her face, her beauty striking you in the most innocuous moments.

"Wait, you haven't seen the rest of the show yet," you teased her, taking a small black remote control out of your pocket. In a few seconds and quick manipulations, the room was plunged into a subdued atmosphere, the brightness reduced. The only bright spots of light were small round spotlights of different colors that danced on the parquet floor. A purple glow passed over your face as you smiled at her.

“You really put your best foot forward, I’m sure a lot of people will come,” she declared with conviction as she sat down on one of the few chairs. Aside from your ex-boyfriend, your best friend was the only one in your circle who supported you so much. You had always been labeled as the eccentric of the family, and you spent too much time painting to socialize at school. She was a pillar, and you were grateful for all the encouragement she showed you.

“I even wanted to bring my brother, but I guess he’s too busy with soccer, he didn’t even answer me.” her thoughtfulness touches you a little, and you dismissed her idea with a smile.

“I doubt Chigiri would be interested in my amateur art exhibition...” you chuckled, arranging a few paintings around you.

“You don’t know, my brother is an intellectual, I’m sure he knows a lot of your references!” she looked convinced, so you believed her. “He’s the only athlete I see walking around here naturally, anyway. The others don’t seem to have the soul of an artist.”

Your hands on the wood of the frame froze. You knew someone who didn't need to know anything about art to always admire your creations, and even compliment them. He was pretty much ignorant about anything that didn't involve soccer, but when it came to you, he was attentive. Until he wasn't.

"Maybe..." You answered her in a less cheerful voice than before, suddenly pensive.

You had met Chigiri's older sister at a bar, shortly after you broke up with Sae. It was so surreal and ironic to meet the sister of another popular soccer player after having left one that you had quickly become great friends, the anecdote still making you laugh today. It was now three years ago.

Three years was more than enough time to recover from a breakup, so you shook your head, quickly repressing painful memories that would ruin such a beautiful day that had started. Last you heard, Sae was in Spain busy chasing his dreams, you couldn’t be the idiot who preferred to play nostalgic instead of doing the same thing as him.

As if to taunt you, your eyes land on the painting to your right, in the winter section. Your heart tightened at the sight of it. You wished you could throw it away, or at least not be able to exhibit it, but the beauty of this creation had not been matched since. It would have been a waste. It’s as if the pain Sae had caused you had sublimated your art in the most vicious way possible, and now he’s forcing you to show your pain to the whole world. You vividly remember when and how you painted this canvas, and what you felt at that moment. You were sure that if you looked at it for a little too long, it would suck you into a whirlwind of feelings that you had tried to ignore for three years.

You snapped out of your thoughts when your friend called you to sweep the floor one last time before the inauguration. You took a deep breath and turn away from the cursed painting. Today was the culmination of several months and over a year of work. Sae wasn’t going to ruin your day.

𖥸

Your exhibition was going well. The city of Tokyo was enjoying pleasant temperatures in the middle of July, so many people were out to enjoy the beautiful days. The aisles of the art gallery were populated with locals and tourists, you had chosen your day well. Seriously, everything was so perfect that you had a hard time believing it.

Seeing so many interested and admiring faces in front of your art healed something deep inside you. Sae was the only one who had the words to give you the courage to start posting some photos of your creations on the net, and he was the first to legitimize your passion. You came from a pragmatic family for whom art was only a diversion and not a vocation to make a career out of it, your dreams were ridiculed and never taken seriously by them. Your only safe place during childhood was to paint in the grass, not far from the soccer field where Sae practiced. The sounds of nature around you, the breeze of the wind and the exclamations of his opponents put you in a kind of creative bubble. His positive comments on your paintings gave even more meaning to everything you did.

You were young at that time and ignored all about the heartbreaks.

"The goal was to be able to represent each season without using the elements that characterize them." You explained in a clear and confident voice, showing with your hand one of the paintings from the spring collection to a small group of tourists, very interested in your creations. Pale green and pink lights hovered around you, lighting up your faces from time to time.

The painting you were pointing to was painted in an abstract style. No real object or element that we knew in our lifetime could be identified, but the technique, shapes and colors used gave the illusion of a field of flowers in full bloom. All the paintings were designated this way: to succeed in conveying the atmosphere of a season without explicitly drawing an element that would betray the special effect. The exhibition played on the use of all the senses, and the room was even filled with special diffusers according to the season's collection.

You obviously didn't have the money for a project of this magnitude. You were the proud winner of a competition that allowed you to exhibit your art for a week in one of the most sumptuous art galleries in Tokyo, all expenses paid. An opportunity like this was never going to come again for you, so you racked your brains to make the most of this offer and make a name for yourself in art. You were on the right track given the number of people present for just the first day of your project.

That's why it was so important to you, all those impressed faces in front of your art. You had already lost a competition three years ago, this was your revenge. That lost contest had taken away your self-confidence, and had even led you to want to stop painting forever. That contest had even been the trigger for your breakup with Sae. A painful time from which you recovered, and now you are a twenty-one year old young woman who is brilliantly starting her artistic career. You had recovered from that difficult time and had been able to bounce back, burying Sae and your failure in the past. Everything was going well now.

That's what you told yourself before your eyes caught sight of the ghost of your heart in the crowd, red locks escaping from his black cap that couldn't fool you.

You almost faltered, your explanation about the symbolism of spring and flowers interrupted. You blinked several times, thinking you were hallucinating but your nightmare was very real. Sae walked along the aisle of the winter collection, his hands in his pockets and his famous face hidden by his cap.

You tried to continue expressing yourself with a polite smile, putting aside the sudden tension that invaded your body. His vision had the effect of a slap. His presence filled the entire room at once, altering all your confidence in this day. It took you a superhuman effort to maintain eye contact with your interlocutors, your body waiting for one thing: to turn around and observe the iceman who inspired all your winter paintings.

He went unnoticed in the crowd with his cap and his neutral-toned clothes, but never for you. Maybe after three years without contact, after telling you that you had gotten over him, your brain wanted to taunt you, play with you. Show you that you were lying to yourself. What the hell was he doing here? He was a Real Madrid player. He had no business being in an art gallery in the middle of summer in Tokyo. Even less in your exhibition.

Despite your best efforts to keep your conversation going with the small group of tourists in front of you, your eyes and heart kept turning to the same person who had been monopolizing your attention since you were kids.

“Are you thinking of selling your painting? If so, how much do you value a single painting and an entire collection?” The young man in the group who seemed the most knowledgeable about art pulled out a notepad and pen, ready to write down any information you had to give him. The problem was that your heart was already struggling to beat at a normal speed, so all you could do was scan the room to try to find your best friend.

You couldn’t believe that someone was already interested in buying something and your heart was beating fast now for two reasons: Sae and excitement. Someone wanted to buy your paintings!! But the timing was so unlucky that the anxiety related to your ex-boyfriend took over everything.

You hadn't spoken to each other since your violent argument. He had no business being here. He was preventing you from concentrating and carrying out your project.

For a second, you stupidly thought that he was here especially for you, and that he had something to say about your breakup, but your stupidity quickly dissipated. You haven't forgotten who he is and why you broke up. He couldn’t be here for you, not after the horrors he said to you before disappearing from your life. The lights that illuminate small round spots on the floor span around you and made you dizzy.

"Miss?" You jumped. You came back to reality and turned your head towards the potential buyer who was interested in your creations. You wiped your hands that have become sweaty on your pants, and tried to regain some consistency.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Your voice betrayed you, it faltered.

"The winter collection. The estimate." He readjusted his glasses, still intended to know the estimate of your collection. In a part of your heart not yet conquered by Sae, it touched you. It felt strange to have artistic value for someone after having wandered for years looking for an audience that admire you. There was a time when your audience was only made up of him.

"We're not at that stage yet, she's just started, but I can give you this so we can get back to you in the future!" A cheerful voice that you know well let you breathe a sigh of relief, a small part of your bodily tension vanishing. She held out one of her business cards, with all your contact information on it with a kind expression. You’d swear she’d be all the rage in the marketing industry.

A flicker of disappointment crossed the young man’s face but it quickly faded and he took the card your best friend handed him. As the group of tourists moved away from the two of you, you grabbed your only support here by the shoulders.

“He’s here.”

Her usually always smiling, sweet face frowned.

"Who?"

You give her an almost desperate expression, not wanting her to force you to spell his name. A flash of understanding crossed her, and she turned quickly to scan the crowd with her eyes, looking worried. You wiped your sweaty hands again on your jeans, he really managed to break any ounce of confidence in you today. You didn't know exactly what it was that made you anxious about him, but the mere sight of him made you falter.

Seeing him among the faces admiring your art caused something in your heart that you had trouble identifying, but disturbing enough to hate the feeling. You couldn't let yourself feel anything when it concerned him. It's been months, years now that you've tried not to think about him and everything he represents. Efforts shattered.

"He's with his agent..." She whispered in a breath, almost confused.

You were too obsessed with him to notice that. Your friend put her arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against her as she made you walk, hurrying as if she wanted to prevent something. "We have lots of visitors, we're not going to let that get us down anyway!" Her smile redecorated her face but it's a little forced this time and she tried to distract you but it's useless. Whether you refocused on your mission or not, your ex-boyfriend was still a few meters away from you.

And you understood what she prevented from happening when a voice behind you makes you stop all movement.

"Well, it was starting to get boring hanging around in the aisles."

That tone of voice. Low in the octaves, too monotonous to indicate any emotion and lacerated with nonchalance. A voice that made you melt every time he addressed words only to you, and spat insults at others. You and Rin were the few people who had been able to see Sae in another expression before his trip to Spain changed him completely. You had missed this voice horribly, and you want to hit yourself at the realization that yes, you wanted to hear it again and again.

"Mr. Itoshi, you can't talk to someone like that, come on..."

Your eyes met the second you turned around and you swallowed hard. It's not discomfort, nor anger that pierced you but pain. His intense teal pupils stared at you in his familiar coldness, a coldness that used to be synonymous with home for you. But today, you felt like you're facing a stranger. He seemed much more adult than the last time you saw him.

The man next to him was shorter than him, and all nervous. He scrutinized you with his big round glasses, you remembered he was his assistant. He was always afraid of being late, and always had to confront Sae's stubborn nature. He was probably only used for paperwork because when it came to decisions and advice, your ex-boyfriend only did what he wanted.

“Miss ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚, allow me to introduce myself more politely.” His assistant mumbled as he approached you, breaking the eye contact between you and Sae. You frowned, while Sae’s agent shook your hand. Your usually sociable best friend was silent, sensing your tension. “Me and Mr. Itoshi want to…”

“What are you doing here?”

You cut the little bespectacled man off in a sharp tone, addressing your ex-boyfriend directly. Your voice was too tense for the vulnerability to be heard in it. You were not used to being rude, and his agent surely didn’t deserve this treatment, but you urgently needed an answer to this question. Otherwise, your inner torment would never subside and you didn’t want to burst into pathetic tears in front of everyone, especially him.

Sae's face remained imperturbable, he had no reaction to your question, or even to seeing you again after so long. He sighed as if annoyed at having to explain his presence. Your body tensed, you hated how he seemed taller than you, richer and his smug air. As if he were just someone superior to you and you hadn't spoken as equals since childhood. Deep down, it hurt you. The hands in his pockets sank a little more, accentuating his bored look.

"That," he tilted his head with his usual phlegm towards the paintings to your right, the winter collection. "And pretty much everything else in the gallery, I want them all."

You nearly choked on your saliva, his announcement sending a shock wave through your body. You wondered if you misheard or if your hearing was playing tricks on you. The firm tone of his voice that accepted no argument to what he just said made you clench your fists.

“What the…”

“If you think someone will make a better offer than me,” he interrupted you, looking up at you with an annoyed look, “you’re still as stupid as before, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚.”

Your body was torn between weakening at the way your name rolled off his tongue and tensing at his insult. This was what it feels like to have dated an Itoshi, you wouldn’t recommend him to anyone. Your friend frowned, wanting to intervene but you made a subtle gesture to stop her.

“It’s not about the money,” you mumble, uncomfortably, “you’re the last person I want to sell my creations to. And where does this urge come from anyway? You disappear for three years to want to buy my paintings now?” As much as you hate to admit it, there was pain in your voice. All of this hurt you. Seeing him again was the worst thing that could have happened to you today. He made you so vulnerable with just a few words.

The discussion took a more intimate and personal turn in your tone, and your best friend understood by herself that she should leave the two of you alone. With her biggest smile of a pro in sociability, she grabbed Sae's assistant by the elbow who has a panicked look while she dragged him away against his will, to give him a tour of the exhibition while you had to confront the ice prince.

His height towered over you, and without anyone around you, you were quickly helpless and more vulnerable. You wanted to cry, that's it. You didn’t understand why he wanted to inflict this on you. Forcing you to see him again when he left you with a broken heart years before, and coming back with his nonchalant air as if nothing had happened. Well, yes, you could understand. Sae has never shone for his empathy. And maybe it's even intentional, his way of acting. He knew the effect he had on you.

His eyes lingered for a few seconds on the necklace around your neck. A gold-plated chain enhanced by a butterfly pendant that sparkled with amethysts encrusted inside. You had worn it since middle school. He was there when you showed it to him, so proud of your parents' gift. You weaken as you remember it. You hated everything he reminds you of and just wanted him to disappear.

"Three fucking years Sae, and you show up like that without explaining yourself and you allow yourself to impose something like this on me?"

There was vulnerability and pain in your voice that you tried to hide with bitterness but he knew you all too well. He looked up at you.

"I don't have time to talk about this, I want you to work for me for a while" he said quietly, ignoring what you just said, as if it wasn't the craziest sentence he's ever said. No questions, no dialogue, just an "I want".

"What's wrong with you?" You frowned, your voice trembling, speechless at his audacity, starting to lose patience. You didn't understand what he was doing here, or why he was talking to you after so long, why he wanted your paintings so much.

He was always very abrupt in his manners, his compliments on your art were never to please you, but completely sincere and because he felt the need to say. That's why his approval always had a special value for you because you knew you could count on his honesty. But here, we went beyond the simple compliment. He wanted to buy all your collections for a reason you didn’t know.

He tilted his head to the other side, as if he wasn't interested in what you were saying and ignored what you just said, his gaze turned towards one of your paintings. You swore you could slap him. You clenched your fists.

“I didn't come to ask your opinion.”

What the hell was he doing here then? You're starting to get fed up.

“You can't impose what you want on me, these are my paintings, I don't even understand what's going on! You're no one to...”

Getting angry, you had moved closer to him without realizing it, and when he lowered his head towards you while adjusting his cap, your words died on your tongue. A few inches from his face, his perfume enveloped you.

“I need an artist for a charity ball to buy the paintings from. You’ve always been the most talented person for that.” He leaned his head even closer, the proximity far too close for exes. Your breath hitched. A charity ball?

“Do I fucking look like I like charity balls?” He mumbled, his expression hardening and you swallowed. “No,” he spits sharply, “So don’t waste my time.” He pulled away from you, a red lock falling in his eyes. Your brain was a mess with this pile of unanswered questions, but you felt incapable of facing him anymore so you don’t ask. Everything he says hurt and confused you, you just wanted him to go away.

He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh, as if being with you was torture, before plunging his hands back into his pockets. Without even looking at you, he turned around and walked away without a word, leaving you in a state of incomprehension.

He walked on the earth as if he possessed all the riches in the world and was indifferent to them at the same time. You felt like you could breathe again when he walked away. Sae having a charity ball? That's the funniest announcement you've ever heard in your entire life. There must have been other elements that had to force him to participate for him to take the request seriously. But even thinking about it, you had a hard time imagining Sae forcing himself to do something he wasn't interested in. There had to be some other purpose that benefited him in all of this.

His whole person arose an unprecedented irritation in you, but the anger quickly subsided and the aftereffect of having spoken to him again overwhelmed you. You missed him. Arms hanging, you stared at his now blurred silhouette. A pain split your chest, and you scanned the room for your best friend.

────୨ৎ────

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

𖥸

After talking with Sae, you had 2 questions: what was this story about a charity ball, and why had Sae specifically come to talk to you about it. You knew him, he wasn't the type to do something that bored him or travel for others. He could have sent you a letter with the description of his request, or let his agent take care of it.

But no, he was present in the crowd of admirers of your art and it left a strange bitter taste in your mouth when you thought about it.

Three weeks had passed since the incident, and you tried to pretend that you weren't still troubled by what had happened.

In the middle of August, you were at your parents' house, far away in the Tokyo countryside. Walking in the fields helping your parents, you distracted yourself by turning potatoes in the dirt, wiping your sweaty forehead. You weren’t particularly fond of gardening, but it was a habit of coming to help them since they moved there a few years ago.

“Aren’t you doing anything tonight?” your mother asked you, crouching down next to you with a straw hat that protected her head from the sun’s rays.

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, a little tired by the incessant sound of crickets in the grass around you and the sun beating down on your back when you bent down.

Your mother looked up at you, her eyes narrowed by the sun.

“I’d rather you go out with your friends than stay inside and paint.”

You sighed, already tired of the argument that would start if you reacted so you let it go. Your mother always had little comments like that to always remind you that she hated your passion. It was less violent than your father, whom he used to put you down all day long, saying that you were wasting your life, though.

“You should work instead and-”

“You forgot some weeds,” you cut her off, not wanting to get into a debate where you fought for her to recognize your art as work and not just a teenage lobby.

She was hurtful, and you didn’t need her causing more tension in your body.

Sae was the complete opposite when you thought about it. He was on the verge of calling you lazy if you didn’t pick up a paintbrush for more than three days, treating art like another sport that deserved daily practice. He was kind of right, but it made you chuckle that he behaved like that.

A sad expression flashed across your face before you caught yourself and silently cursed him as you turned over the remaining potatoes.

“By the way, you have mail,” your mother pointed out nonchalantly as you opened your eyes wide.

Only Naho knew that you were at your parents' this summer, the person who had sent this must have been well informed and that was worrying.

"Are you sure?" you asked, frowning.

She nods and doesn't say more, busy with her potatoes. It was only when you got home that you hurried into the living room, running to the limit towards the pile of mail, looking for yours. You opened the envelope hastily, eager to know.

Inside, there was an invitation book and an explanatory letter. Your eyebrows furrowed as you read the letter. Sae was indeed invited to a charity ball, but it was an event that brought together dozens of famous high-level athletes, there was even Aiku Oliver as a guest. The letter explained that each guest had to bring an artist with them, and Sae had chosen you. You were invited to the ball at the end of August, and you could bring your paintings. The ball was in Madrid, in a famous event hall. It was a golden opportunity for your career, but knowing that it was given to you by Sae left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“I can’t stay this summer, I’m invited to a charity ball,” you grumbled, your mother nearby. She stopped in the living room, hands on her hips, looking surprised.

“For what reason?”

“…”

You shifted, uncomfortably.

“Sae m…”

“SAE?!”

You tensed up at her excitement, she adored Sae, and it seemed like the breakup had hurt her too. It was something you struggled to understand, since Sae had a career far removed from your parents’ demands, but maybe it was normal for a mother to appreciate her daughter dating a millionaire footballer.

“There’s nothing between us anymore, it’s just for work,” you breathed, turning around.

Her eyes shining with excitement made you feel sick.

“This will be a chance to make up.”

“Mom.”

“Young people these days can’t handle the ups and downs of being in a relationship, seriously,” she mumbled, wiping her hands on her thighs as she headed to the kitchen. “You can tell him hello for me.”

You didn't even have time to tell her that it was for your art that all this was organized, but you held back because she would never have understood, and would never understand your passion. You didn't need her bitterness about your life choices to ruin an opportunity like this.

𖥸

"Wow," Naho whispered, her glass close to her lips. "He could have explained everything to you on the spot instead of insulting you," she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah," I stared at my cocktail, my gaze empty.

A few weeks had passed since you received the letter, and you found yourself in a bar with Naho to debrief. She was happy for you because it was an opportunity, but criticized the form.

"Diplomacy is not his strong point."

You chuckled.

“We’re talking about Sae,” you smiled, playing with your drink.

You looked around, watching people enter the luxurious bar. It was a beautiful summer evening, the atmosphere was soft. The dim lights of the bar gave an intimate atmosphere to the place. You couldn’t afford a place like this, but Naho liked to take advantage of her fiancé’s money, a rich banker. It made you laugh every time she took out her credit card and invited you to go shopping with her.

“It’s coming soon,” you pointed at her engagement rings with a sincere smile. “Ready?”

She smiled wide, bringing her hand in front of her, her diamond sparkling in the glow of the bar lights.

“I can’t wait, everything’s ready!”

Just like she helped you prepare for your exhibition, you helped her prepare for her wedding. She was your best friend and you wanted to support her at all costs for the most important day of her life.

“I still don’t have my hairstyle for the big day,” you grimaced, still undecided.

You were thinking about making a sophisticated bun by slicking your hair back or going to the hairdresser to ask for a completely different cut. Luckily, your dress was already ready as were those of the other ladies in waiting.

“No matter what you choose, you’ll look stunning.”

You giggled.

“Says the bride herself. You’ll be the star of the evening.”

She gave a small knowing smile while taking a sip of her cocktail. Just then, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You took it out, apologized to your friend and brought it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” a familiar deep voice rang out on the other end of the line.

“Rin?” your eyes widened, surprised to hear him. You lowered your head, swirling the spoon in your drink. “Do you need anything?”

Rin and you weren’t best friends, but close enough nonetheless. The three of you had always been close throughout your childhood, even after the breakup, you had kept in touch. Your relationship was the perfect balance between brother and sister and close friends. He could confide in you, just as you could confide in him.

“…”

You sensed from the silence on the other end of the line that this was going to be important, and nodded to Naho, getting up from your seat. With an apologetic look, you left the soft warmth of the bar to lean against a wall outside, the cool evening air enveloping your neck.

“I’m all alone, you can talk to me.”

He hesitated, his voice uncertain and lacking the confidence he usually had.

“I heard you were going to Sae’s ball.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, not too thrilled. “He kind of forced it on me,” you laughed bitterly into the phone.

“Really?”

“He really showed up at my exhibition unannounced and ordered my paintings.”

He was silent for a few seconds. “Sae was in Tokyo?” his voice was hurried, impatient.

“Yeah. I still don’t know why he came to see me directly instead of sending me an email through his agent or something.”

You could hear him scratching his head on the other end of the line.

“Maybe he just wanted to see you.”

“Have you been drinking?”

He let out a small chuckle.

“You’re the only one he came to see anyway,” he said in a cold voice. “Understand what you want.”

“Why did you call me Rin?”

He paused for a moment, silence on the phone. Rin was a mysterious boy who was hard to figure out, but he didn’t fool you. You knew when something touched him through his fake coldness, or when something was bothering him. You considered him a bit like your little brother to a certain extent, you had grown up with him and had seen Sae raise him to become the man he is today. He had no secrets from you.

“You…” he began, his voice hesitant. A silence again. He swallowed hard and launched into it. “You can tell him to call me when you see, please. I’ve been trying to reach him for years.”

You soften.

“Why do you want to talk to him Rin, you know he…”

“Just ask him to call me,” he interrupted you in a firm voice. “You know we both have stuff to work out.”

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I know,” he sighed.

You looked at the trees around you before answering in a soft voice.

“I will, don’t worry Rin.”

“Thank you,” he said in an almost shy voice.

You continued your call by asking how he was doing. Rin was the star of the Japanese team, which didn’t surprise you given all the sacrifices he had made to get there. What worried you more, however, was still the fervor with which he clung to his desire to beat his brother. He wasn’t living his life for himself yet but for his brother, and it hurt your heart to notice it again after years.

You ended the call with a smile, happy to have heard from Rin. You cared a lot about him. You watched the wind that made the leaves of the trees swirl around you, walking back to the bar. You breathed deeply. You needed strength for the days to come, because your departure for Madrid was tomorrow morning.

────୨ৎ────

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 – 𝐣𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐨

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

𖥸

“You’re talented, there’s no point in going to school,” he says honestly, his eyes fixed on your paintings scattered on the grass. You chuckled, touched by the compliment, continuing to varnish your works.

“My parents still want me to study. I don’t know, I’ll probably take a science major...”

He tightened his ball in his hands, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“It’s no use to you,” he repeated, stubborn. “Just do an exhibition. Even art school is useless, I don’t know what else you’ll learn.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know anything about art, Sae. I could draw a dog turd, if the shadows look a little complicated, you’ll be impressed. »

He threw his soccer ball right at your stomach and, unbalanced, you fell back into the grass, laughing out loud. He wasn’t laughing, though.

“You have to be really stupid to waste your time like that,” he swung, looking at you with a bored look. You raised yourself slightly on your elbows. Your gazes challenged each other.

“I’m not free like you,” you answered with a sigh, brushing the dirt off your shorts. He made a small insolent noise.

“I’m not free, I’m just determined. I’m going to Spain at the end of the summer, to play for the team. You think that’s freedom? You’re the one with free artistic spirit or whatever you call your shit.”

You tilted your head, observing his pink hair that was shining in the sun. You had tried to fix his bad haircut, but Sae seemed to like his disastrous haircut. It was quite stylish.

“Spain?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, sitting down across from you. Just that. He felt like it was even logical and normal this meteoric rise. He was a prodigal after all.

“You’re going to become even more stupid and ignorant if you stop school at 13,” you chuckled.

He gave you an emotionless look, kicking you, finding your joke anything but funny. He wasn’t going to stop school completely, but it was true that he didn’t really care about his homework and preferred to practice for his matches.

“And you’ll become useless if you let your parents choose everything for you. I’ll be the best striker Japan will ever see, and you’ll still be doing everything to please them, without having accomplished anything. Luckwarm.”

The surety in his voice hurt your heart.

“I won’t be a failure.”

“You already are.”

“Sae,” you tensed. The harsh truth behind his voice squeezed your heart even more. You didn’t want to end up like those artists, forced to work repetitive jobs devoid of creativity. You were still young and could still dream, but you already knew that your parents would put obstacles in your way. The carefree childhood was already starting to evaporate. He sighed, as if he were the one who was disturbed.

“I’ll stop saying that when you actually do something with your paintings. It’s not like I care anyway.” If you like being useless,” he said nonchalantly, laying down on the grass with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed.

You moved closer so that you could rest his head on your thighs, playing with his pink locks.

“Liar.”

He didn't answer, but he let you brush your fingers over his skin, his cheeks and his hair. The peaceful look on his face contrasted with the harshness of the words that could come out of his mouth, and the strength of determination that animated him.

"If... If one day I hold my exhibition like I dream of doing one, you promise me that you will come see it?" you whispered, your hands following the shape of his eyebrows. He slowly opened his eyes, looking at you without saying anything for a moment.

"I'll be too busy traveling the world for my matches, no time for that," he answered arrogantly. You rolled your eyes, pulling him closer to you. He let you do it without saying anything.

"You will be my guest of honor."

He chuckled.

"Promise. Even if we will talk less when you are in Spain. Just promise me."

His gaze darkened.

“You still care too much about my approval, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚.”

It was true. No one had your back. His support was a breath of fresh air, a lifeline. You held him a little tighter, tense.

“It’s just...”

“Of course I’ll come, but you’re not doing it for me, are you?”

You avoided his gaze, looking instead at your painting to your right. He pulled you closer to him, tugging at the collar of your t-shirt, his breath fanning over your face.

“Right?”

His voice was firmer, colder. You swallowed hard, forced to look into his green gaze. Sometimes his eyes reminded you of an ocean, but not in the metaphorical beauty, in the anguish of a density that you were unable to match.

“...”

A breeze of wind passed between the two of you.

“Yes,” you forced yourself to answer, even if you lacked conviction. “I will do it without thinking about you, or hoping that you will come. Just for… Me.”

He released your collar. It was the first time in your life that your stomach had twisted in a pleasant way.

“Good.” He let you go. He was completely unaware of the heat that invaded your body.

𖥸

You woke up from your nap on the plane with a knot in your stomach. You had just dreamed of a distant memory, dating back to a few years ago. An old promise, which he – with surprise – had kept. He had really come to your exhibition. Was that why he had moved on purpose? It wasn’t like him to take children’s promises to heart like that, even though he was the type to follow through on his goals. In fact, it was very like him after all, and you didn’t know how you should feel about that.

You were collecting your luggage in the airport, your mind in thought. Your dream had awakened painful memories, and you were distracted by your thoughts instead of enjoying the warm air of Spain. Your eyes roamed your surroundings, admiring the sophisticated architecture of the airport and the world that swarmed there. As you stepped out, you took a deep breath as you observed the city in front of you, populated with people.

It was sunny, and very hot. You took off your cardigan, walking towards your Uber while rolling your suitcase. Your skin glowed in the sun, and you already knew that for the time you were going to be in Spain, you were going to get a tan. The lack of moisture in the air intensified the already high temperature.

As you sat down in your Uber, you received a call from an unknown number. Curious, you answered it while putting on your seatbelt.

“Are you here yet?”

Your hairs stood on end at the sound of Sae's voice, and you frowned. Several questions clashed in your mind. From 1) why did he still have your number? 2) how the hell did he know what time you were arriving in Madrid? 3) what did he want from you?

"Sae?" you mumbled, your voice nervous. The driver started driving, looking at you from time to time in the rearview mirror, curious.

"Whoever you want it to be, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚?"

You tensed up.

"No, I mean..." you hesitated for a few seconds. "What do you want, well why are you calling me, how did you get my number?"

"We were a couple as far as I know," he remarked casually and your tension increased in your body. “I still have your number.”

“I thought I had you blocked.”

“I guess you didn’t.”

You hated his smug tone, it was already getting on your nerves. You stayed silent for a moment, glancing at the scenery passing before your eyes.

"First, you send me a letter when I'm at my parents', and now you know exactly when my plane lands. You're creepy."

He huffed.

"You always go to your parents' in the summer, I just have a good memory."

"That doesn't answer my second question."

"There were no questions in your sentence."

"Are you being so annoying on purpose?" you grumbled, annoyed. "Answer, damn it."

The driver smirked, amused by the conversation but he remained discreet.

"Your paintings arrived in the event room as planned," he changed the subject. "They're intact, and ready for the exhibition."

The new subject piqued your interest although the way he ignored you annoyed you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you mumbled impatiently, playing with the zipper of your vest in your hands.

"Just like that, I thought you would have wanted to know that they were safe."

His attention made your heart race for a moment but you quickly recovered and cleared your throat.

"Is that all you had to tell me?" you lowered your head, fiddling with your vest.

"Do you want to visit Madrid with me?"

You nearly swallowed your saliva the wrong way.

"W-What?"

He sighed on the other end of the line, as if you were exhausting him just by talking.

"I'll meet you at 2pm at the San Miguel market."

And he suddenly hung up like that, without another word. Dumbfounded, you stared at your phone in your hands for a few seconds without saying anything. Not only had he ignored your questions, but he allowed himself to hang up on you and make decisions without your consent. And what was this about showing you around Madrid? Had he forgotten that he had rejected you like an old sock when you needed him the most? Why was he acting like you were on good terms.

Your mind full of questions, you rested your head against the car window and watched the streets go by, pensive.

𖥸

You arrived at your hotel around noon, which was the last bit of time you had before seeing your ex-boyfriend. Because yes, you were of course going to come to his suspicious meeting. You had nothing else to do anyway, and you really wanted to have answers to your questions today.

You rushed to the shower once you got to your room, getting rid of your filth. You stood still in the shower, feeling the water trickle down your body, taking the opportunity to cool off. You took your time to lotion yourself, choosing a vanilla-scented body lotion. You perfumed yourself, and put on your jewelry. You put on simple jeans and a tank top that was a little low-cut to survive the heat of Spain. You applied treatments to your hair, taking more time than usual and you didn't want to think about what that meant. Yes, you were getting dolled up to go see your ex, let's be honest. You put on white sneakers, and grabbed your handbag.

You were going to unpack your things later, you wanted to have time to figure out how to navigate the Spanish metro and walk around a bit before meeting Sae where he had told you.

If you had been told that Sae was going to play tour guide for you two months ago you would have burst out laughing but now this was your reality.

𖥸

You arrived on time at the San Miguel market. The market was bustling with people, and you had taken the time to stroll through the streets before coming. The sunny streets were filled with trees, it was nice to hang out there. The San Miguel market was a long avenue filled with different food stalls. Some sold takeaways, others spices, others olives. A pleasant spicy smell enveloped the market and guided you inside.

It didn't take long for you to spot red locks that you knew well under a cap. Your breath caught when your eyes met. He wore a white shirt with the top two buttons open, and simple jeans. A luxury watch on his wrist, he smelled of money. Hands in his pockets, he stood nonchalantly against a wall near the market.

His gaze roamed your body for a long time before they went back up to your eyes, and he nodded to you.

You swallowed, and took a few steps to join him.

"You have to stop deciding everything like that without even asking my opinion," you mumbled, reaching his height.

"Is that a Japanese way of saying hello?" He sighed, pushing his hands further into his pockets. You noticed that he sighed very often when he spoke to you and it annoyed you.

"You forget that you're Japanese too."

He rolled his eyes.

"Come on," he walked towards the inside of the market without even waiting for you. You followed suit, already grumpy.

"What did I just tell you? Stop ignoring me and choose for..."

"I don't remember if you like olives or not," he interrupted you, pointing at an olive stand. You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply. This was going to be a long day.

"Sae."

"Or you can try the meat skewers. Or chili."

With a wave of his hand, he pointed to the different stands as you walked side by side. You glared at him.

"You're doing it on purpose, huh?"

"Maybe," a smirk crossed his lips and left you speechless. Was he teasing you? Like it was nothing? You rubbed your arms, feeling weird.

"We're not a couple anymore, why are you acting like..."

"Skewers or olives?"

You groaned, fed up with his behavior.

"Sae!"

He moved faster without waiting for you, and you almost lost him in the crowd. You zigzagged through the mass of people to join him. He had stopped at a meat stand that sold the skewers he was talking about, and you joined him, out of breath from having to follow him. It was going to be a long day.

𖥸

"I can't believe we're having a drink together."

"Life is full of surprises."

"No, seriously, what's wrong with you Sae?"

He sighed - for the thousandth time that day -, he still had that don't-care look he wore as if everything took energy from him, and that expression was starting to get on your nerves.

"And stop looking so bored, it's unpleasant."

"It's natural."

You rolled your eyes.

You had been sitting on a terrace for about fifteen minutes, and you struggled to find answers to your many questions. Sae acted as if nothing was wrong, not seeing the absurdity of the situation. And the worst part was that you weren't having a bad time. He had taken you to his favorite places in Madrid, showed you parks, and you were amazed by the beauty of the Spanish city. Sometimes, Sae's eyes lingered on his, as if to check that you were enjoying the moment, and in those moments you turned your head away, unable to meet his gaze.

"I really don't understand what's going on," you grumbled as you sipped your cocktail. "We're not friends Sae."

"Really?"

Your eyes widened at his casual tone and how he looked at you smugly.

"Well yeah, should I remind you how we broke up or what? I'm not your friend, you're an idiot to even think otherwise," you had your cocktail in one quick gulp, choking a little as you coughed. Sae stared at you choking without saying anything, and you cursed him inwardly.

“I just thought you might want to visit the city,” he stated nonchalantly, his eyes falling back on his expensive watch. “I’ll leave you, I’ve arranged a taxi that will take you back to your hotel.”

“You’re stalking me, how do you know the address of my hotel?” your eyebrows furrowed, your face wary before you remembered your main question. “And for the letter to my parents…”

“See you tomorrow at the charity gala,” he adjusted his cap on his head and stood up without a goodbye, his hands in his pockets. He took a hand out of his pocket to place a large bill on the table before leaving without a word. You watched him walk away, speechless.

He was annoying, unbearable and so rude. But deep down, your heart tightened as you thought back to that day that you had enjoyed. You had enjoyed visiting the city, discovering Madrid, and Sae's favorite places. In a way, you had enjoyed his company, although it took a superhuman effort to admit it to yourself. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized that you missed him terribly. Even his flaws. Even his smug and nonchalant air. Everything that made him a person, ultimately.

You were silent during your taxi ride. Sae made your heart confused. Nothing forced him to spend the day with you, yet he had done so. You were also not blind to his many insistent glances, eyes hidden under his red locks in front of his face. At someone else's, it would have been cute to show his favorite spots to someone who doesn't know the city, but this action for Sae gave rise to incomprehension and immense unease. It was none of his business, and you struggled to understand his real intentions. He had even gone so far as to prepare a taxi for you so that you could return home safely, seriously what was he thinking? Your stupid side whispered to your heart that he was surely trying to make up for it, and it would have been plausible if we weren't talking about the ice prince, Sae Itoshi.

With a confused heart and a knot in your stomach, you rested your head against the window, admiring the landscapes of the favorite city of the boy you had once been madly in love with.

────୨ৎ────

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 – 𝟐𝟏 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐞

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

𖥸

You sprayed yourself for the thousandth time with your favorite perfume, taking care to put it everywhere, and on your long dress. Dressed in a sophisticated way, you wore a long black dress with a backless and bare shoulders, with many golden jewels like you love them. You always loved jewelry, and especially painting them. Playing with shades of yellow and orange was your hobby when you were younger. Sae often lent you his golden medals so that you could paint them, because he knew that you loved it.

Speaking of Sae, you had made a mental note to finally have answers to your questions today, and not to let yourself be distracted by his actions. Today, you decided to have the power in your relationship, if we could still say that you had one.

You were choosing which bag to wear when your phone vibrated.

"Naho, I missed you," you exclaimed on the phone when you saw who called. Your enthusiasm was followed by a chuckle on the other end of the line.

“So, how’s the future star of the evening?”

“Don’t start, I’m pretty stressed,” you sighed, walking nervously around your apartment while talking to your best friend. “I have a black dress, should I take a small red bag or a small silver bag?”

“Red. The silver one won’t go with your jewelry,” your girlfriend answered confidently. You nodded and slung your small red leather bag over your shoulder.

“You’ll never guess what happened yesterday?”

“Did you fall under the spell of a Spanish guy?”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“Worse than that.”

You began to explain everything that happened yesterday with Sae. She listened attentively without interrupting you, before leaving a long silence.

“That’s weird,” she only said and you could only nod.

“Yeah, I don’t know what to think?”

“You know he didn’t date anyone after you broke up? I was kind of mad at him when he left you, so I kind of followed everything he did to curse him in secret,” she admitted with a laugh, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

It felt good to have a friend like her by your side, always there to make you laugh and support you.

“I’m not surprised, I’m the only one who was stupid enough to keep up with his bullshit.”

“Or does it just mean he’s still in love with you?”

You freeze.

“What the fuck?” you stared at the ground, frowning.

“I mean… If we’re being objective, he does a lot of thoughtful things. Picking you for the bal, introducing you to the city, spending time with you, arranging a taxi to take you home…”

“We’re talking about Sae, Naho,” you interrupted her, your voice a little dry, as if you were on the defensive.

“I know, I know. But think about it. You know him well, he wouldn’t do that to just anyone.”

“He probably wants something in return, I don’t see any other explanation.”

“I think he wants to come back to you, but he just doesn’t know how to do it.”

You started laughing again, finding her idea absurd.

"I have time to die four times before Sae regrets his choices and tries something with me again, Naho," you shook your head with a sigh. "Let's stop talking about him, it's giving me a headache."

"Whatever you want, but just think about it."

𖥸

The event hall was packed. From a distance, you could tell it was a wedding given the rich decorations, the numerous bouquets of flowers, and the sophisticated outfits of the guests. You recognized several celebrities just by arriving, and you were starting to feel out of place. Everyone invited here had some kind of notoriety, you were just a nobody.

"Can I get you something?" A waiter offered you champagne, but you politely declined, fixing your dress with your hands.

Your paintings blended perfectly with the decor, and you couldn't help but feel a little pride in displaying them for others to see. You walked over to one of the paintings, touching them delicately, feeling the relief of the brushstrokes under your hand. It was a golden opportunity to have your collection here, you were grateful to have had this opportunity, but knowing that you had gotten it thanks to Sae left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your eyes wandered over the crowd of people, looking for Sae. You quickly found him, he was surrounded by journalists and had a bored expression. He was dressed simply, but sophisticatedly. A white shirt, black suit pants, and loafers. He wasn't wearing his usual glasses and cap, his face was on display for everyone to see. He bent down to sign an autograph for a child, and straightened up, signaling to the journalists to leave him alone. He was about to pick up his glass from the buffet before looking up and meeting your gaze.

As every time he looked at you, your body was riddled with electricity and you fought internally against the urge to turn your head, unable to hold his gaze. His eyes wandered along your silhouette, impassive. They lingered on your curves, and you hated the heat that was released in your stomach at his eye contact. Your body felt hot under his gaze on you, every part of your body felt the weight of it. His eyes said things that you didn't want to know, but that your body demanded to hear.

You lifted your dress a little and began to walk towards him, maintaining his gaze. The world around you didn't matter anymore, you had two goals today: to solve the mystery of Sae's behavior, and to get noticed by someone important with your art. And now, you were walking towards your first objective.

He leaned against a wall, his hands in the pockets of his classy pants, his eyes fixed on you. You concentrated on not tripping because his eyes were destabilizing. When you reached his height, you were enveloped by the addictive scent of his cologne.

"This is the first time I've seen you dressed like this," he brought his glass back to his lips, his eyes lingering on the curve of your hip molded by the fabric of your dress. Your heart was pounding under his gaze.

"I didn't have a chance before, when we were together" you leaned against the wall next to him, crossing your fingers on your stomach.

“It suits you.” He looked away and sipped his drink.

You nearly choked at his compliment, it was so out of character for him to say something like that.

“Are you drunk?”

He scoffed and shook his head. His red locks waved at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not into that.”

You nearly laughed at his response, he seemed personally outraged that you would think he was intoxicated.

“Relax, I didn’t call you an alcoholic,” you chuckled, wrinkling your dress before freezing.

Were you seriously joking with him? Since you had spent the day with him in Madrid, your long-built barriers were becoming weaker and weaker and if you didn’t look closely enough at what you were doing, you fell back into a comfortable intimacy with him that you had when you were a couple. It wasn’t normal, nor what you wanted, you had to pull yourself together, you had questions to ask him.

Prove it by 21 Savage and Summer Walker was playing in the big speakers of the event room, it was a soft and a bit romantic sound, absolutely everything you didn’t need right now. You took a deep breath before launching yourself.

“Sae, we have to talk.”

“About what?”

“Us.”

“So there’s an us again, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and his green gaze landed on you and you swallowed.

“You know exactly what I mean, don’t play with my words.” To manage your nervousness, you played with one of the bouquets of roses next to you and lost your gaze in the crowd in front of you. “You’re the one who acts like there’s always been a ‘us’.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He continued to sip his drink.

You rolled your eyes.

“Answer my questions in order first. Why did you come to see my exhibition?”

He stirred his glass, and said nothing for a few seconds.

“Wasn’t that what we agreed on?” he finally said in a nonchalant tone, as if he hadn’t just confirmed that he cared about you, and your promise.

“Are you talking about our promise before you went to Spain?” you asked to be sure, your heart pounding.

“You finally decided to stop being a failure, I had to see what you had achieved.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Is this your way of telling me that you’re happy and proud that I didn’t get discouraged after losing my first contest?”

“Yeah.” His voice was low, like a whisper.

A breeze of wind passed between you, and you didn’t know what to do with the frantic beating of your heart. He was transforming your nervousness into a feeling that you had forbidden yourself to feel for someone again.

“Second question: How did you know I was at my parents’ to send the letter?”

He leaned against the wall, and glanced at you, his face impassive.

“You always go to your parents’ in the summer. There was no point in sending it to you if you were going to receive it later.”

Your heart was going to burst out of your chest. Why did it make you so happy that he remembered that?

“Third question: Why did you spend the day with me last time?”

“I need a reason for that?”

“Of course, Sae. Don’t tell me you just wanted to see me and spend time with me?”

“What if I told you that was the case?”

Another missed heartbeat.

“You must be drunk, this can’t be…” You shook your head.

You swore you saw the hint of a half-smile on his lips for a second before his impassive mask regained control of his expression.

“I’m lost, Sae.”

“That’s because you’re stupid.”

He was so… How can I say it? Annoying? Exhausting? Funny?

“Thank you for those lovely words, but I’m serious. I’m lost. One moment you act like an asshole, the next you…”

You looked at him, daring the words that stayed shyly in your mouth.

“You act like you want me back in your life.”

He paused, staying still for a moment before slowly turning his head towards you. For a few seconds, you said nothing and stared at each other. You didn’t pay attention to the noise of the crowd of people, and the music, completely focused on his green eyes.

“And what if that was the case?”

That’s it, those were the words he shouldn’t say. Especially not, because your heart couldn’t take it. Not now, not like this. Not after all the hurt he had done to you. It didn’t make sense.

“Don’t...”

“Excuse me, are you the painter of these paintings?”

A small, plump woman with a fancy bun interrupted you, and Sae looked away. You desperately wanted to tell this woman that you were busy, but she seemed very interested in your work. You glanced at Sae, who had his eyes glued to her phone now, then managed to smile at the woman in front of you.

“It’s me, can I help you?”

What followed was a conversation you had dreamed of having your entire life. The woman was the director of a luxury interior design company, and was looking for partners. She was a fan of your work, and wanted you to work for her. She showered you with compliments and seemed enthusiastic about the idea of collaborating with you. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, but there was a problem.

"I would be very happy to work with you, but I don't live in Spain, I'm from Tokyo," you apologized with a polite and sorry smile.

"It's not a problem, we can collaborate very well remotely. It's rare to find talents like yours, I wouldn't like to miss this golden opportunity!"

Her compliments warmed your heart and a heat rose to your cheeks. You didn't know how to react to someone who was such an admirer of your work, you weren't used to it. She explained to you how to proceed, and asked for your contacts to send you all the information about the collaboration. She handed you her business card, and your hands were about to shake. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. It was going to take off your career, and it was all thanks to Sae. As she left, you turned your head to get ready to talk to him but he had disappeared.

𖥸

Your mind was dizzy.

You were drunk from all the glasses of champagne you had drunk, and you had trouble standing. The charity ball was over, but the night continued in a luxurious bar, like an after party. You hadn't found Sae all night, and your head was going to explode with all the questions you had.

You were so drunk that you hadn't noticed it when you had collapsed on the first couch you had found. Tired, you had rubbed yourself against what you thought was the leather, ready to fall asleep. It was only when you opened your eyes slightly, yawning, that you met his piercing green irises above you. The air in your lungs emptied immediately. You had just understood where the disturbing but pleasant softness underneath you was coming from.

You could get up but you blinked several times, incredulous, unable to move.

"Sae, what are you.."

You had so many things to ask him.

Your brain was too flat to grasp the situation, you swallowed with difficulty, still motionless. Your body weighed a ton, the slightest movement cost you considerable energy.

His hands went along your waist to pass under your hips, lifting you slightly so that he could get up from the couch, and released you roughly - literally turning you over on the couch. The image of his back made your eyes widen.

"Did you just..."

He moved forward with his hands in his pockets. You got up with difficulty, your body numb, swearing under your breath.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Wait,” you struggled to articulate, the first step off the couch nearly spraining your ankle.

His figure seemed to flee from you, sinking ever further away. The further he went, the more your eyes blurred. You wanted to talk to him. Ask him some questions.

Your feet continued to walk, following him at an almost desperate pace. You just wanted to ask him what he meant by 'maybe it was', if he really meant it. Why was he acting so cold with you now when he seemed different a few hours ago. Why was he was being hot and cold?

"Wait, please, I just want to..."

He didn't slow down, maybe he was speeding up, hands digging deeper into his pockets. You didn't even pay attention to the music and the people around you, your legs focused on his, ready to follow him wherever he went. As usual.

He walked through a door, not bothering to close it, as if he was waiting for you to follow. You rushed into the room, not even caring where you were. It was immediately quieter, as if you were in a private room, away from the cacophony of the party.

“Sae, I…”

He turned around, his usual impassive face.

You stood awkwardly against the wall, not even knowing what to say anymore. The swirl of emotions inside your heart and the alcohol in your blood was a dangerous cocktail that was never going to lead to a healthy and cordial conversation, especially not with Sae.

“You want me back in your life? I don’t understand, you’re the one who left me,” you pointed out in a low and hesitant voice.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at you silently for a few seconds without saying anything before he tilted his head to one side.

“You don’t want to talk about this in my hotel room? I don’t want to be disturbed here.”

You swallowed, considering the idea. You hated how desperate you were acting, but alcohol and Sae didn't mix well on you. As much as it hurt you to admit it, you were still in love with him. Just his gaze had an effect on you, it was dishonest not to realize that. He made you relive feelings and emotions that had been buried for a long time.

You nodded slowly with reluctance, ready to finally answer your questions, and perhaps unravel the mysteries of his heart.

────୨ৎ────

𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞 - 𝐥𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐣𝐢

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

𖥸

𝐒𝐀𝐄’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

The drive to his hotel was silent, Sae staring out the window as she stared at her hands, which she was playing with nervously. Sae glanced at her from time to time to admire her. She had never been so pretty and dressed up, he thought. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, and the neckline highlighted her chest and shoulders. He was unable to look anywhere else when she was near him, a bit like before. Artists have muses, Sae was an unconditional fan of hers. Always, and even after their breakup.

Speaking of breakups, Sae didn't know how he was going to handle this situation. He wasn't good at talking about his feelings, or his emotions. For the first time in his life, he was off guard. How was he going to explain to her what he felt? He would have liked her to be able to read him and guess on her own, but it was impossible. He was too impassive and neutral for her to decipher his silences. Sae was an enigma, and for the first time in his life, he wished he were someone else, someone who could say everything with a look.

The driver stopped in front of the hotel. Sae got out first and came to his ex-girlfriend's door and opened it. She looked at him puzzled, probably surprised that he would make such a gallant gesture, but he had to put all the chances on his side if he wanted to get her back tonight. She got out of the car, lifting her dress a little. Sae waved goodbye to the driver and began to walk towards the hotel entrance, her hands in her pockets. She followed him slowly, and looked around. They were in a luxurious area of Madrid. There were chic restaurants next to the hotel.

The silence was heavy. She followed him into the lobby and into the elevator. Once in the elevator, she stared at her feet, nervous. Sae didn't take his eyes off her, it had been three years since he had been deprived of her beauty, he wanted to mentally record the curves of her body and the details of her beautiful face so he would never forget, although she had an unforgettable beauty.

He used his pass to enter his hotel room, but let you go in first. His room was simple and luxurious, everything was tidy and clean. She turned to him and looked at him hesitantly.

"So..."

"Yeah?"

Sae took off her watch and placed it on his wooden dresser.

"My head is spinning," she sat on the sofa, massaging her temples. "I'm sorry if I'm not making sense."

"No problem, do you want some water?" »

She nodded slowly, still puzzled by how nice he was to her.

He handed her a bottle of cold water, and she thanked him. She took a few sips in silence, and looked around the room. There was a large king-sized bed, lots of plants in fancy and classy pots. They were in the "living room" area, where there was a leather couch and a giant television. It smelled like money.

"You know, Rin would like you to answer his messages and talk to him," she started the conversation cautiously.

Sae scoffed and sat on the couch with you, your thighs touching.

« Unlike you, my fool brother is still a failure, I have nothing to say to him. »

She frowned.

“You’re mean. He’s very important to the Japanese team, he’s not a failure at all.”

“He plays soccer to challenge me, not for himself. That’s what I call being a failure,” he leaned his back against the backrest of the couch, and turned his head to her. “You stopped putting me at the center of your passion, that’s why I came to your exhibition. I wanted to see what you were capable of when you stopped thinking about being validated by others.”

He didn’t know when the atmosphere had shifted between them, where they had gone from annoyed and irritated looks to being able to talk openly and calmly. Maybe it was since their day in Madrid or during the charity ball. He saw in her eyes that she was starting too and lowering the barriers she had put around her heart to protect herself from him, and to be vulnerable.

She lowered her head, looking at her water bottle.

"So, if I understand correctly, you want me back in your life because I have evolved and stopped being insecure? You throw me away when I am not to your liking and when it suits you, you want me back?" She spat, her hands clenched.

Maybe he had spoken too quickly. Maybe there were still barriers around her heart and irritation. He rested his head on the backrest, and looked at the ceiling.

"It's not like that," His voice was lower, softer.

"It is like that, Sae. I am not the only one who has been discouraged in his life. Do you want me to remind you of what happened in Spain? It's human to get discouraged sometimes, the most important thing is to be able to bounce back."

Her whole body tensed up when she talked about when he left Japan at a young age to go play in Spain.

"Don't compare yourself to me, we have nothing in common."

His voice was hard, he crossed his hands on his chest.

"Oh yes we are alike Sae. You know, I think you left me because you saw yourself in me. You saw a person losing to others, and ready to give up everything, and it reminded you of yourself."

"You're talking nonsense." Sae closed his eyes, his head still facing the ceiling.

She didn't take her eyes off him and he swore he felt her staring at him even with his eyes closed. She could read him, he knew it.

“You left me when I needed you the most, and now that I’ve moved on, you come back into my life to take me back without apology.” Her eyes burnt him. “Don’t you see the problem?”

He stays silent for a few seconds, and opened his eyes.

“It wasn’t healthy between us,” he tilted his head at her. “You did everything for me, you had no self-confidence anymore. I refuse to be your motivation. You have to fight alone.”

“You blame me for losing confidence in myself while you changed your dream because of the others’ performance in Spain. We are the same, Sae. Two idiots who lost confidence in themselves, and we should have been there for each other.”

He shook his head gently.

“It pushed me to be better somewhere else and work without giving up, while you wanted to stop art completely after losing your contest. We aren’t the same.”

He had a point. Sae hadn’t given up and had worked even harder to achieve his goals while she had given up and was completely paralyzed in her creation.

“It doesn’t change that you had to be there for me instead of abandoning me.” Her voice was a little shaky, Sae saw the vulnerability in her eyes, and he sighed. He leaned against her, closer to her.

“It was necessary. You needed to be alone to be able to regain your self-confidence. I wasn’t…”

His face was inches from hers.

“I wasn’t okay in my head at that time, I needed you too but you were too devastated by your competition. I had to leave. It was what was best for us at that moment.”

She saw the sincerity in his eyes, and her eyes were starting to tear up.

“I didn’t… I never thought you would need me at that moment. I was too… I’m sorry, Sae.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and Sae lifted a finger to wipe the tear away.

“I know, I don’t blame you for that. I just...”

His eyes fell to her lips. His breath caressed her face.

“I just think, now, it’s the right time for us.”

𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

You didn’t remember how you ended up on his bed, you just remembered the soft touch of his lips against yours. It had happened so slowly. He had bent down cautiously, questioning your eyes if he had the right to. You nodded, your heart racing. You weren’t in your normal state, the alcohol and the vulnerability of the conversation were making you lose your mind. But you knew that you craved his touch. Right now in his hotel room, you wanted to feel him against you, and don’t think about something else. All the desire buried for years resurfaced in a lightning wave in your body.

He captured your bottom lip between his lips, his tongue sliding over it. He pressed his forehead against yours, and you let out a soft sigh.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you murmured against his lips, “I’m drunk.”

“I think this is a really good idea,” he wrapped his arms around your butt, and lifted you, “the best idea I’ve had.”

He carried you to his king size bed, and placed you delicately on it. You sat, arms back. He leaned down, and pressed soft kisses against your neck, kissing the goosebumps.

“You know, I don’t forgive you for the horrors you said to me that night,” you moved your head to let him more space.

“I know,” he bit your skin, grabbing the flesh between his teeth. You flinched, and your heart raced.

“I still think you were asshole that day.”

“I know,” his lips found yours and they glided over each others, his mouth was hesitant, testing the waters. But he gained confidence and his tongue traced your teeth as he leaned more against you, his body flushing against yours. He kissed you with gentle motions, his tongue teasing and curious. You leaned back, on your elbows.

He dreamed of this. Having you in his arms, tasting your lips. He had missed all that. He loved you, more than you could think.

“At least forgive me tonight,” he whispered against your lips.

“Sex can’t resolve us,” you closed your eyes, kissing him back with the same slowness.

“I can resolve us,” he unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt, “let me resolve us.”

His nose nuzzled yours, and the motion looked like an Eskimo kiss, and you couldn't help but smile against his lips.

“Idiot.”

“That’s my line,” He finished unbuttoning the buttons of his shirt, and his muscular torso was free. You opened your eyes, and glanced down at his abs.

“You’re more muscular than before,” you whispered while your hands wandered on his abdomen.

“I would be damned if that wasn’t the case. It’s been three years.”

You chuckled softly and continued to caress his torso. You didn’t know why but the tension you felt in his presence had dissipated. Everything was calm and tender between you two. He pressed his forehead again against yours.

“Will you let me resolve us?”

His voice was so soft, you couldn’t remember a time you heard it like that.

“I can repair everything. I can give you what you need now. I won’t let you down like before.”

He lifted his head and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m proud of you for your art exhibition, by the way. It’s amazing.”

Your eyes watered, and you sniffled, your body tense.

“Don’t do that to me, Sae.”

“Do what?”

He gently laid you down on the bed, his figure hovering over you.

“Saying everything I wanted to hear,” you let him take off your dress as you tried to dry your tears but they continue to flow down your cheeks. He kissed every tears, his mouth wet.

“I’m glad I’m doing the good thing, then,” his lips traced your collar bones, “I've already messed up enough.”

The cold air hit your skin as he undressed you while kissing down your body. His lips traced every lines of your rib cage, his breath caressing your skin. Your skin tingled with shivers every time his mouth landed on you. You dipped your hands in his soft hair, stroking it.

“You were so pretty today,” his tongue flicked around your navel, “I feel blessed to be allowed to look at you.”

Heat came in your face and you were flustered by his words. Your nails grazed at the back of his neck and he let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He trailed kisses down your belly and your hip and he lifted your legs to place your thigh against his cheek and your knuckles on his shoulders. Your heart raced with anticipation as your hands tensed on his hair. A sigh escaped you when he kissed your inner thigh and worked toward your intimate parts. He raised his head, his eyes lingered on yours.

“You didn’t respond.”

“At what?”

“Resolve us. Repair us. Rebuild us,” his fingered slid into you, and you let out a low moan at his motions. His index and middle finger traced circles on your sweet spot, and his eyes were full of desire as he looked at you being riled up.

“I can do better, give you more than you could think,” he thrust his two fingers in you, and he bent down to kiss you and swallowed all of your moans. “I can buy you all the flowers you missed all these years,” he breathed against your lips.

His thumb rubbed against your clit as his fingers moved in and out of you, he closed his eyes while kissing you.

“I can give you everything you want now, I promise.”

You were flustered and didn’t know what to respond at what he was saying. You said everything you wanted to say to him, but you were full of doubts. Could you really forgive him and restart a relationship with him? Will he be there for you when you needed it, there when you would be the most vulnerable?

“I can’t say yes now, Sae,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “it’s fast for me, but…”

You leaned down, your lips near his ears.

“I can let you resolve us for today,” you whispered, your soft breath brushing his neck.

It was the signal he wanted, needed. He nodded, and began to unbutton his jeans, your slick on his hands. His eyes roamed over your body, and he admired you, lying there, all ready for him. There was a burning desire in his gaze that made you shiver. After taking off his pants, he put his knees on the ground, his face at the level of your crotch, your stomach clenched at the sight. He was so pretty with his eyes shining and his hair undone because of you.

With his callous hands, he grabbed your thighs and spread them in front of him, heat came in your face as you shyly opened your legs for him. It’s been years since you saw him between your thighs. You still remember when you did your first time together, teenagers awkward and hesitant. Now, you were full grow adults, and there was no more awkwardness to your moves.

He began slowly, his fingers parting your folds, his mouth careful and teasing as he licked your arousal. You clenched your thighs and dipped again your hands in his hair. You pushed his head to your cunt, and moaned softly as the tip of tongue wiggled through you. He lifted his eyes, his gaze never leaving you as he slowly buried his nose and mouth deep into your wet folds.

His nose rubbed against your clit as he thrust his tongue in you, and exploring every inch of your twitching hole. You were in heaven, he wasn’t shy with it, but deep in it, his eyes closed, savoring your taste. He was a real eater, he took pleasure seeing you riled up as he fucked you with his tongue.

“Just like that,” you whimpered, lifting your hips in the air, rocking your lower body against him, your hands tugging desperately at his hair.

He plunged his head deeper in you, your slick dripping his chin, and continued his exploration with his tongue. He ate you like you were the best meal in his life, he was so eager. His hands gripped your thighs tightly to keep you from moving too much. You threw your head back in the mattress as you moaned, it’s been fucking three years since you had sex. You were in need, and you grind your cunt into his mouth without embarrassment, you needed it so much. Sae was the only man you fucked with, and it’s stayed that way when you broke up for two reason. One, you didn't believe in love after Sae, and two, nobody could fuck you better than him. He knew everything about you, from where to press his tongue, where to lick, how to suck your clit. He knew everything about you, and was an expert at pleasing you.

When your pussy clenched around his mouth, he knew your orgasm approached. He stopped using his tongue and focused only on your clit which he sucked vigorously, making your legs shake against his head. He made lewd sounds, you were dripping with arousal. As you were seeing stars and your orgasm traveled your body and left you without energy, he stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You look beautiful like this, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚,” he took off his boxer and placed a knuckle on the bed, “sit on me.”

“Sit on you?”

“Yeah,” he sat on the bed and looked at you intently.

You stood up on your elbows, and tilted your head.

“You want me to ride you?”

He nodded, and grabbed your arms to pull you onto his lap. You looked down, he was already hard, his cock brushed your entrance as you were sat on his lap. He pulled a condom out of his bedside table and passed it to you to put on. As you wrapped the condom around his cock, you remembered how the cowgirl was his favorite position, and obviously still the case.

“Why do you love this position so much?” you chuckled as you lifted you ass and sank into him while closing your eyes.

He wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you closer, “I love looking at you.”

“Liar, you’re just lazy,” you teased him and rocked your hips against him.

He scoffed and grabbed your hips.

“Shut up,” he pushed down on your hips, making you take fully his length and you placed your head on his shoulders, sighing softly.

“No,” he lifted one hand to wrap it around your throat, “look at me.”

You were forced to look at him, and you got lost in his gaze. Your eyes were telling everything you couldn’t say, they were convey your feelings. They were telling all the doubts you had in your heart, your fear about the future, and the love you had for him, even though it was buried deep in you for three years. It was so intimate. He caressed your neck as he gently gripped at it, his eyes never leaving you. You loved being handled by him, leaving the control to him, letting him take the lead even though you were the one on top of him.

Like a slow dance, you rode him, undulating your hips on him, your left hand on the one that was on your neck, the right on shoulders. He didn't take his eyes off you as you rocked your hips against him, you were the most beautiful thing in his life. His gaze on you electrified your senses, you loved how his eyes were feverish, craving you. You felt sexy in his eyes, and it’s been a while since you felt that way.

You bounced your ass up and down, and he released your throat to lean back on his elbows, his hands on your hips. He thrust into you, plunging in and out, and you lost balance.

“Hey,” you fell on his torso, but he didn’t stop his motions, and lifted his hips to fuck you more intensely. You placed your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, but it was in vain, anyone who passed by the room would hear your shaky voice and understand what was happening.

He grabbed your ass and pulled you even more closer to him, sinking his cock in you. It felt so good, your nails scratched his bare torso as you whimpered every time his cock brushed your cervix. He was so focused on fucking that he made no noise. You tilted your head, looking at him.

“You know I love when you make noise, don’t stay silent.”

“You want me to say “you’re so pretty” ten million times tonight like an idiot?”

You chuckled.

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, “I would like that.”

“Pfff,” he rolled his eyes, but he captured your hips in his hands and turned you over so you were on your back.

“You’re so pretty,” he said the first time as he plunged his cock into you, and his breath hitched. You wanted to wrap your legs around his waist but he shook his head and grabbed your thighs to put them on his shoulders. The new angle made his thrusts deeper and more intense and you gasped his name.

“You’re so pretty,” he panted out the second time as he rutted into you, his cock stretching you to his size. Your hands gripped the pillow behind you, and you moaned uncontrollably, completely oblivious to the possibility of anyone hearing you. You felt his breath on your face as he panted softly in your ears.

“You’re so pretty” he whispered a third time, against you lips as he kissed you while fucking you slowly. He pushed in his cock back in you with a measured rhythm, focusing on the sensation rather than jackhammering you. He pressed his forehead against yours, looking at you with a tender gaze.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you inhaled, gasping for breath. “I love you.”

He closed his eyes.

“Me too,” his voice was soft, like a whisper. And in that moment, you felt that the whisper came from his heart.

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

────୨ৎ────

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 – 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

𖥸

It had been three weeks since your night with Sae and you were back in Tokyo for your best friend Naho's wedding. You hadn't spoken to Sae since because you had asked him for time to think about it all.

Standing in the line of bridemaids, you stood straight and smiling, your heart softened by the sight of your best friend in her wedding dress, while her father guided her to her husband who had the same big smile as you when he saw his future wife.

It was a sunny day, the sky was blue and the weather was perfect for this ceremony. You had spent hours getting ready, it was as much an important day for you as it was for your best friend. You had been through so much together, you wished her nothing but happiness with her future husband. She was a pillar in your life, you would never have missed such an important day for her.

Everyone had respected the dress code: white and pink. All the bridemaids wore long pink strapless dresses with a slit, and a high sophisticated bun. Even the men had played along, and the garden of the castle where the wedding was held was filled with white and pink roses. You had of course participated in the decoration, just as Naho had helped you with your art exhibition.

You constantly had a smile on your face, your mind at ease. Everyone was in a good mood, there were only smiles and laughter while you ate, and tears of joy when they said "yes" to each other.

You wondered what it felt like to be married. To love someone so much that you would bear their name, and you chose to be bound together forever. What it felt like to wear the ring that symbolized your love, what it felt like to walk up to the priest, bouquet of flowers in hand, eyes fixed on you.

When she threw her bouquet of flowers behind her, you were the one to pick it up. And at that precise moment, your hands holding the bride's bouquet of flowers, you noticed that Sae was walking towards you.

You blinked several times, thinking you were dreaming, forgetting the world around you. But it was real. Dressed in a pink suit and a white shirt, he was walking towards you, his eyes fixed on you. His agent was following behind him.

Whispers rose in the garden, no one expected a celebrity to be present at the wedding. You looked for Naho, then when your eyes met, she winked at you, and that's when you understood. She had planned everything for you, even on her wedding day, she was thinking of you.

Sae stopped in front of you, and you couldn't help but admire how handsome he was with his hair moving because of the wind, his tie a little loose and his bright green eyes. He looked like a prince, and for once, he didn't have that ice prince look anymore. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hand, the roses were your favorite color.

You swallowed, nervous to see him. You took a few steps forward, a few inches away from him.

“Sae?” you whispered, still feeling like you were in a dream, “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” he handed you his bouquet of flowers, “though I’m not here for the bride.”

You took his bouquet, hands shaking. You didn’t know what to think. You had dodged his messages after your passionate night, needing to think. But now, he was in front of you, and you couldn’t dodge anymore.

“Can we go somewhere quiet?” He held out his elbow to you.

Everyone was looking at you, whispering speculations in your ear.

“Of course,” you took his elbow, intertwining your arms together.

You walked towards the castle, your heart racing. You didn’t know what to say to him, or what to discuss. You wanted to tell him that he was handsome, smelled good, and left you speechless, but nothing came out of your mouth.

"So..."

"Yeah, so..." you cleared your throat.

“How’s it going with the interior designer?” he started with a light topic of discussion.

You smiled.

“Good, I’m going back to see her in two weeks in Madrid,” you answered him proudly.

“Good,” he nodded.

You stopped near the castle, and he let go of your elbow to stand in front of you.

"I have a gift for you," he pulled a small box out of his pocket.

Your heartbeat quickened.

"A gift?"

"Yes, hold out your hand."

You held out your hand to him, your body tense because of your nervousness. He opened the box, and took out a thin ring with small diamonds all around it. You opened your eyes wide, not expecting that.

"It's a promise ring," he gently took your hand in his to slip the ring on your finger. “If I can’t propose to you now, I promise to never hurt you like I did before.”

Your eyes stung and watered, you were speechless. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on it.

“Have you thought about it? I mean, both of us.”

“Yes, I have,” you nodded softly and wiped away the few tears that fell with your other hand, “damn it, my makeup.”

He came closer to you, and leaned down to kiss your cheeks, where the tears fell, intercepting them. His touch was so soft, so sweet and so pleasant, you closed your eyes for a moment.

“And…?”

“I…”

His lips were placing kisses all over your face, and moving up to your forehead.

“I’m still scared.”

“I know.”

“But…”

You looked up at him, and gave him a soft smile.

“I’m ready to trust you again.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured against your forehead.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and looked at you with a tender gaze.

“I feel like I’m turning into a marshmallow because of you.”

You chuckled softly.

“I’m glad to hear that,” your smile grew, and you ran your hands through his hair.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours.

“So there is an us?”

You nodded, still smiling.

"You better draw a summer solstice, we're not in the winter solstice anymore."

You tilted your head, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

He tightened his embrace around you. "Your 'winter solstice' painting that you made during our breakup. I refuse to let it be your last creation about us. Things have changed between us. I have changed."

Your heart was filled with indescribable emotions, and you felt your eyes moisten again.

"No more dull colors, no more sinister winters. Only sunny days, happy faces and bright colors. A summer solstice."

You closed your eyes, and you imagined yourself walking with your wedding dress, bouquet of flowers in hand, towards Sae, and it felt good, right. You still needed to talk to him about so many things, to talk about the future and the past, but you had all the time in the world.

And on this sunny day, it was now your turn to tell him your "yes".

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

#𐙚 writings 𓍢ִ🌸˙#sae itoshi #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #sae x you #sae x y/n #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x female reader #sae bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x female reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi smut

496 notes · View notes