#and never agree to receive a favor from him

[darabeatha]

ㅤㅤRule number 1. Never trust a man harlot

[natjennie]

like seriously whatever you do dont think about the captain and that story about someone calling into gay bars and not saying anything, just listening to queer people living and laughing and having fun. definitely don't think about the captain doing that. haha.

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[deusfoundry]

part 2 here!

girl dad!zayne who simply smiles when his daughter knocks on the door of his office one night. she lets herself in, a deep crease present on her forehead, fingers wrung together. he can tell the moment she entered that something's bothering her, so he shuts his laptop off in favor of giving his daughter his undivided attention.

"what's wrong?" he asks with an encouraging smile on his lips.

girl dad!zayne who puts on a nice front when she tells him that a boy is coming over tomorrow night for dinner. he almost says "no.", mouth opening to reject the very prospect of boys. "you're too young to be dating." he very nearly says, if not for the quiet "please." that stops him in his tracks.

suddenly, he's taken back to a whole decade ago.

suddenly, his little girl has just turned seven years old.

suddenly, she's pleading with the widest doe eyes he's ever seen for him to get her the slice of carrot cake displayed on the counter of a bakery.

damn it, he thinks. those eyes are the bane of his existence. not once has he been able to resist them. curse you and your genes for passing those godforsaken eyes to your little girl.

so he smiles. he pulls his daughter into a warm, comforting hug.

"of course." he says, trying not to sound like he's forcing the words through gritted teeth. "i'm not mad at all, sweetheart."

"really?"

zayne merely hums, and when she squeals in delight, jumping up to plant a small kiss to his cheek between an onslaught of thank you's and i love you's, he almost forgets that he just agreed to having some boy over in his house.

girl dad!zayne who huffs when you press a kiss against his lips to stop him in the middle of his rant. he's spent the last half hour citing complaints about his daughter. how boys her age are stupid and none of them could even dream of treating her the way she deserves to be treated.

"when did she even get old enough to start talking to boys?" he manages to insert between exasperated claims every five minutes.

"it's part of being a teenage girl, love." you pull yourself away from his lips, lazily moving around to straddle his thighs. "let her be."

"and you're not the least bit concerned?" his breath hitches against his throat when you start to slowly trail kisses around his neck. he doesn't hear your response to his question, mind clouded with the feeling of your lips drawing stars on his skin.

his girls are truly going to be the death of him.

girl dad!zayne who purposely lingers near the front door so he can beat his daughter to opening it. he hears the doorbell ring and the subsequent thundering of her footsteps from upstairs, but he's already opened the door before she can even rush down the stairs.

girl dad!zayne who relishes in watching the way this boy's face falls. he's secretly glad that his career is as remarkable as it has been at this very moment, because he sees exactly when it dawns on the boy who exactly is standing before him.

the father of the girl he likes is the doctor zayne. world-renowned cardiac surgeon doctor zayne.

the boy splutters. he unfolds into a stuttering mess right in front of zayne and he has to resist the urge to slam the door on his face.

if doing so didn't end in him being in the receiving end of your sermons, he never would've opened the door in the first place.

girl dad!zayne who’s overtaken by surprise for a quick second when the boy finally collects himself.

“thank you for letting me join you tonight, sir. it's really an honor.” he says his name. zayne's impassive expression doesn't deter the boy as he holds his hand out.

zayne reluctantly takes it. he's about to settle on just giving him a subtle shake when the boy himself takes initiative, shaking zayne's hand with just the right amount of enthusiasm.

"this is for you and your wife." he hands over the basket that's been sitting beside his feet. zayne eyes it with his arms crossed over chest.

the basket is decorated with a ribbon tied into a neat bow. it comes in his daughter's favorite color, an oddly specific shade of pastel blue that she's been obsessed with since she was five. the inside is parted down the middle, one side filled with fruits and food that you like. the other half is, very obviously, for him.

it's packed to the brim with a whole assortment of sweets. a variety of cake slices from a bakery at the other side of the town he's been meaning to visit. packs of candies he likes. his favorite pastries from the bakery near the hospital.

zayne is ... delighted. but he refuses to let the boy know he's slowly winning him over so he quietly takes the basket in his hands and lets him in.

"dinner will be ready shortly." he says before disappearing into the kitchen.

zayne catches his daughter with a small bouquet of her favorite flowers in her hand.

girl dad!zayne who intends to stay quiet over dinner, but is forced to make small talk when you kick him under the table.

"be nice." you remain silent as you smile at the young boy sitting beside your daughter, but he knows that's what you mean with the threatening glare you send him.

"so," zayne purposely says his name wrong as he clears his throat. "what do you do for fun?"

he sees you shake your head from the corner of his eye.

girl dad!zayne who still isn't entirely convinced that this boy deserves to be with his daughter, the literal light of his life, his little girl, but relents a little as the hours go by.

zayne remembers telling his daughter time and time again to never settle. that he himself would pluck the night skies free of stars if you so much as imply that it's what you want. that she should look for the love you share with him, unconditional and boundless.

and as zayne watches with a keen eye how he treats her, he thinks he's done a good job at instilling those beliefs.

he's attentive to her needs, handing the bowls of food that's way out of her reach. he places a small portion of vegetables on her plate and successfully coaxes her into eating them, something even zayne struggles with. he's quick to cover the edge of the table with his hand when she leans down to pick up the fallen spoon from beneath the table.

girl dad!zayne who ends the night standing behind his daughter on their porch as she waves him goodbye.

"drive home safely." zayne says, uttering his name correctly as a sign of respect.

he doesn't miss the way his daughter's face lights up. and if accepting someone new in their small family lets him see that smile more, zayne thinks it's all worth it.

this has been in my drafts since the i made that girl dad!zayne post a few weeks backdhejhd

divider from @cafekitsune

[hannieehaee]

NEED TO KNOW

18+ / mdi

summary: with jungkook's lifelong crush also came an aversion to dating anyone who wasn't you. but what would happen when the poor lovesick boy came crying into your arms after finally giving a chance to what turned to be a disastrous date?

content: virgin!jungkook, f2l!jungkook, loser!jk, sub!jk, college au, jk is insanely socially awkward and shy, kook is touch starved, afab reader, smut, dry humping, body worship, reader's lowkey possessive over jk (and vice versa tbh), oral (f and m receiving), handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 10k

a/n: loser virgin koo but light on the loser and heavy on the virgin

masterlist | patreon

Jungkook often found himself feeling like his life was one of those very shitty romcoms.

Except he had never really felt like the heartthrob, or even like he was the one getting swept off his feet.

No, his experience was more closely aligned with the loser virgin who was tossed aside so the star-crossed lovers could find their way to each other. This was just how it had always been.

Jungkook had watched most of his friends find love with a person he could easily consider their soulmate. He was a romantic at heart, after all. These things were not difficult for him to spot.

He often wondered when his turn would come, except it just never did.

Being one for romance was seemingly not for the weak, as Jungkook found himself passing yet another year as a lovesick fool hoping to find that perfect someone to finally look his way.

Scratch that. Many people looked his way. Even as a self-proclaimed loser, Jungkook received plenty of attention from boys and girls alike. Looks were often thrown his way, but they were never the looks he wanted to receive.

Sure, he could easily reciprocate the appreciation he received for his looks. He could smile back, maybe even ask for their number and then see where it all led afterwards.

Except that Jungkook needed the romance. He needed to be swept off his feet (or maybe the reverse, it depended on his mood). Jungkook needed a soulmate.

It all just became eternally more complicated when Jungkook insisted on having that person be you.

That and the fact that Jungkook was slightly, how to put it, socially inept. He was shy, anxious, unable to read social cues, and basically just an overall mess. But the worst of all was his undying crush on you, this he knew.

It was a tale as old as time. Falling for your best friend, pining after them for years, hoping one day they'd turn around and realize you'd been here all along. And now on year nine of knowing you, it still hadn't happened. Jungkook remained a sad, lonely virgin awaiting for you to grant his romcom wish and make him into the love interest.

It didn't really help how painfully socially awkward Jungkook was. Truly, he was surprised you'd stuck by his side for this long despite that. There was no way Jungkook would ever want to risk ruining your current relationship in favor of something he knew would never work out. You did not like him back, these past nine years made him very well aware of that.

And so, as a result, his friends had the grand idea of setting him up.

Not once, not twice, but countless times.

However, Jungkook being Jungkook, never agreed to it. Not once had his friends been able to reel him out of his dorm long enough to entrap him into a date.

Jungkook simply saw no point in it. Blind dates were the complete antithesis of Jungkook's beliefs about romance. He needed a connection before even considering entering a romantic relationship. The thought of going on a date with someone he'd never met before unnerved him to no end.

Plus, he was convinced no one would ever actually like him past his looks. There had been far too many instances of him being on the receiving end of insults to his personality or not-so-subtle stink eyes thrown his way. To have that happen to him whilst on a blind date was just a huge no.

Jungkook found himself stuck in an endless limbo. A loveless, endless limbo as he pined after the one person he could never have.

"You're going. No isn't an option here," deadpanned Namjoon, hitting Jungkook lightly to the back of his head with a rolled up magazine — almost as if he were a puppy receiving a scolding.

Well, that's pretty much how Jungkook had been feeling these days.

For the past week or so, Jungkook had been down in the dumps (even more than usual), making his unrequited crush everyone else's problem through his constant sighs and unsolvable complaints. You truly were the only person in Jungkook's life who didn't fall victim to his lovesickness — for obvious reasons.

There was a very reasonable cause for Jungkook's souring mood, though.

You were seeing someone.

Maybe.

At least that's the impression Jimin had given Jungkook when he mentioned some guy you'd been texting lately.

Jungkook had no further evidence, but the mere thought was enough for his heart to begin cracking.

He always knew this was a one sided love, but the confirmation was entirely too hurtful for Jungkook to take. Apart from that, the thought of you not telling him also added to the hurt.

This only caused Jungkook's lovesickness to worsen, making him become a leech at his other friends' sides as he allowed himself to rot. Maybe it sounded dramatic, but Jungkook felt the situation was drastic enough to justify his reaction.

It was unfortunate that Jungkook's friends cared so much for him. Had they simply allowed him to rot in his own self-inflicted misery, he wouldn't have found himself at the receiving end of Kim Namjoon's wrath as he scolded at him to go on the date he'd set up for him with his lab partner.

To be fair, his friends had offered him many options. They'd tried to get Jungkook out of his shell and wingman him in order to find a girl for himself. They'd attempted to get him to confess to you. Hell, they even putting Jungkook on dating apps where he had full control of who, when, and how he met a partner. But Jungkook rejected every option.

This was not good enough for Kim Namjoon.

After having dealt with a heartsick Jungkook for far too long, he gave him an ultimatum. Either he confessed to you, or he'd have to at least attempt a date with a nice girl of Joon's choosing.

So, it seemed like Jungkook was going on a date.

"Sora's going to hate me. I make a terrible date. Last time I went on a date, I panicked when my date tried to kiss me and closed the door on her face. I'm pretty sure I slammed it her nose," Jungkook whined as he rubbed at the back of his head.

"Jungkook, believe it or not, girls do like you. Sora asked me to set you guys up. C'mon, just try it out. This could be that romcom romance you're always talking about."

"Doubt it," he murmured sadly, "But fine. I guess I have nothing to lose."

Namjoon clapped his hands gladly, proceeding to pat Jungkook's back in encouragement, "Good! It'll go great, Jungkook, don't worry."

"I- I don't even know what to wear or what to say, I-" Jungkook found himself begin to panic, "What if-"

"Jungkook," Joon interrupted, "You're overthinking this. Sora's a nice girl. She's been asking me about you since you stopped by my bio class that one time. She's probably excited about this, there's nothing for you to worry about," he reassured.

Still, Jungkook remained overly anxious about it. Also, how was he supposed to explain this to you? He didn't want you to think that he, that he was interested in pursuing other girls. It was a dumb thought to have, but he couldn't help it. What if the feelings were somehow, by some act of god, reciprocated and Jungkook was ruining it by going on a date with someone else? It wasn't like he could possibly hide this from you. You were best friends, for god's sakes!

But one more look to Joon's annoyed expression told Jungkook that he could under no circumstance call this off.

And so he was going on a date.

When the day of the date arrived, Jungkook was even more nervous than he had imagined.

He had no one to ask for advice, no one to confide in so that his nerves didn't go overboard and drove him to insanity.

Okay, he could've easily asked one of his closest friends like maybe Jimin? Or perhaps Taehyung? Maybe even Mingyu. They were all very successful with dating, whether that be casually or long-term. Jungkook was really the only outlier in his friend group to fail miserably at the dating aspect of life.

And every other social aspect, really.

Unfortunately, there was only one person that could provide Jungkook with the comfort and reassurance he needed right now. And that was you.

You, however, were the one person Jungkook could simply never tell about this.

Regardless of the endless times he'd convinced himself that you did not care for him in any way other than platonic, the fear of somehow disappointing you by going on a date with someone else completely prevented him from even considering telling you. It was stupid and delusional, but, well, so was Jungkook.

The very (extremely) small thought that maybe you liked him back continued to bug him even as he got dressed for his date. He'd subconsciously dressed in an outfit he knew you liked on him and had even done his hair the way that usually had you running your fingers through it. In his head, there was a battle between pleasing you despite your absence from this date, and feeling immense guilt over it.

Somehow, Jungkook managed to push those thoughts aside, choosing to try and calm himself down as he waited for the time to arrive.

He attempted to implant happy thoughts into his mind. The possibility of this date going well was one among them. What if Sora was a perfect match for him? What if this was what he should've done years ago instead of closing himself off to relationships due to his hopeless crush? Who knows, maybe he'd fall in love and become a former virgin within a few months.

But then life decided to catch him off guard again with a sudden knock on his door.

He knew in his heart who it could be, but he senselessly hoped it was anyone but you, knowing he'd panic with your sudden presence.

Walking over to check the peephole, he was met with a sight he usually enjoyed seeing — you, smiling in the direction of the peephole, knowing he was watching on the other side of the door.

Hesitating a bit, he opened the door, attempting to decrease the acceleration of his heart. Was there any way he could lie to you about his plans and get you out of here within less than ten minutes? According to his phone, it was 6:32, which meant he needed to get his ass out of his apartment in the next fifteen minutes if he wanted to make it on time for the reservation Sora had made for 7.

This might've been the downside to telling you you could come over unannounced at any time. Usually, Jungkook was either at home or with you, so this arrangement had not caused any issues until now.

Upon opening the door, he was immediately caught in a simple, yet sweet hug — you were a huge hugger, a blessing and a curse to poor, touch-starved Jungkook.

You entered the apartment as soon as you pulled away, making your way inside as if you owned the place (which, you kinda did, considering how often you were here). It took you a few seconds to register Jungkook's dressed-up appearance and inevitably comment on it, interrupting your usual greeting to him.

"Oh? You're all dressed up. I love that shirt on you," you fixed at his collar as you said so, "Do you have plans today? You look really handsome."

Well, Jungkook's unofficial goal of impressing you had been accomplished. Too bad you weren't the girl he was going on a date with tonight.

After your question, you'd moved further into Kook's apartment, making your way to his couch with ease only a true best friend would have. You even grabbed at the chips Kook had left on the coffee table earlier, disregarding your surroundings due to the level of comfort you felt at his place.

"Oh, uh, I ... Joon actually set me up on a date tonight," he decided to go with the truth. Jungkook knew that he'd feel better with your encouragement at the end of the day. Maybe that was what he needed in order to calm his nerves. That, and some sort of official confirmation that he had no chance with you. Perhaps that'd be enough to get him to snap out of his delusions.

He felt bad about it as soon as your face dropped. Or maybe he imagined it. It went back to normal immediately after.

"Oh," you paused, "That's- wow. Congrats, Kook. Who's the lucky girl?", you asked as if it meant nothing. As if him going on a date wasn't a life changing event.

Which maybe it wasn't for you. Kook knew you didn't like him like that, but the stupid hope prevailed for some reason. He was driving himself insane with the idiocy behind the thought, but his hopeful nature couldn't help itself.

"Uh, you know, just some girl from Joon's class. Her name's Sora. We're, uh, going to some fancy restaurant tonight."

"Oh, fuck, did I interrupt you? Sorry, Kook. You should've told me," another flash of something made its way to your expression, but it left as fast as it came as you stood from your seat and walked back to him.

"You, uh, you look amazing, Kook. She's going to fall in love with you for sure," you smiled sweetly at him, fixing his collar again in a manner that had him screaming internally.

He didn't want anyone but you falling in love with him, but it's not like he could actually express that to you without putting your friendship at risk. So, he gave you a tight lipped smile and accepted your compliment with a scrunch of his nose.

"Is it time for you to leave? I'll leave you alone. Wouldn't want to interrupt you in case the date goes well," you went to joke, chuckling lightheartedly as you usually did, but Jungkook swore there was something off in your tone. Call it wishful thinking.

"You don't have to leave," he mumbled.

"It's okay, Kookie. Good luck with your date," you went to pick up your bag that you'd put down when you came in before approaching him by the door once more, "Here. For good luck," and a soft kiss was pressed against his cheek.

He stood there dumbly after that. Maybe he mumbled a thank you or a see you later, he wasn't too sure. He was far too distracted by your proximity and touch and then suddenly he was alone again.

Kisses on the cheek weren't exactly a tendency for you. They practically never happened. At least not with Jungkook's aversion to intimate touch. Hugs were usually as far as you two went due to his shy demeanor in that area. Perhaps you were somehow asserting your place in his life? But it was most likely not from a place of possessiveness as Jungkook's dumb mind wished for it to be. You were just genuinely the sweetest girl he'd ever met, and so you kissed him with the best of intentions. Jungkook would just have to keep it in the back of his mind for his date.

... Which was starting quite soon, he realized as he finally rushed to leave.

With one last resigned sigh, he looked at himself in the mirror and finally made his way out, hoping tonight would be the first step to getting over his rom-com wish of being with you.

Jungkook's nerves did not diminish on the drive to the restaurant, much less as he walked in and was led to his reservation. It was a bit of a shock to him to find Sora already sitting there, but perhaps it was a sign that she actually liked him. Sometimes it was difficult for Jungkook to believe anyone could possibly be into him romantically. He knew people found him attractive and had been prepositioned many times in his life, but no one had ever actually shown interest any further than that. Maybe it was how socially awkward he was, or perhaps how insistent he was on chasing after you in particular.

He shook these thoughts out of his mind for the time being, opting to arrive over to his date as quick as possible.

"Hi," he said dumbly as he took a seat across from her.

"Hi, Jungkook," she smiled back.

She did not seem as nervous as Jungkook did. She seemed quite calm actually, which only made Jungkook more anxious. That and the way she'd checked him out as he sat, but he'd put that thought into the back burner for now.

"Uh, sorry if I kept you waiting," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands.

"Don't worry about it. I'd have waited longer if necessary," then she leaned over the table, as close as she could through the distance and whispered, "I've been waiting for a chance with you for a while."

Okay, that was forward. Was that good?

"Oh, uh, well, I, uh, I hope I don't disappoint you, then," he felt himself blush.

She gave him a smile that made him feel as if she was in on some joke he was unaware of, "You won't. Trust me," and that was that.

The waiter came soon after and wrote down their orders, offering them some breadsticks and beverages as they waited. It was pretty calm during that time. Maybe even too calm.

The conversation didn't exactly flow naturally between the two. It was a little static here and there, forcing Jungkook to think of ice breakers for first dates that he'd seen on some Buzzfeed article he'd read back in high school, back when he was first introduced to the idea of dating.

Sora was nice and extremely pretty, but Jungkook did not feel that spark he'd always hoped for. He should've known the moment he walked in. There were no bells playing nor did he feel dizzy at the sight of her. Jungkook knew these were unrealistic measures to find the love of his life, but they had been present when he met you and still remained prevalent in his current feelings for you. With Sora, however? It was as if he was awkwardly making conversation to his science partner after having finished a project — it was just filling the silence.

But Sora looked happy. She continued to smile at him, giggle harder than Jungkook would expect (his humor wasn't really at its peak performance tonight), and would even reach over to grace at his arm every so often. When the food came, she made eyes at him as she ate. It was a pretty sight, but her intentions confused Jungkook. Was she flirting with him?

He felt out of his league in this situation. Like there was some context he didn't have.

And then the other shoe dropped.

Sora began playing footsie with him under the table, interrupting him as he responded to some benign question she'd asked about his major. She hummed in response, tilting her head to the side and biting her lip flirtatiously at him. It unnerved Jungkook, causing him to stutter endlessly at the contact. God, he was so unaccustomed to touch; any kind of touch, really. Sure, you and him hugged from time to time, but he avoided any further touch, knowing he'd make an embarrassment out of himself if you ever did anything similar to what Sora was doing.

You'd never questioned his proclivity against intimate touch. You just respected it, keeping touch to a minimum and letting him take the reins any time you hugged or lounged on the same couch — there was the very rare cuddling, but it never went further than shoulders pressed up against each other.

It's not as if Jungkook was a germophobe or anything of that genre. He was quite fine with pats on the back, handshakes, hell, even tackling when playing sports, but it was the more intimate touches he stayed away from. He just felt entirely out of place, knowing he'd embarrass himself somehow. Thankfully, he'd never been in such a situation until now.

Jungkook didn't want to judge Sora too harshly by how forward she was being. It was nice to be wanted, especially by someone as appealing as Sora. It wasn't her fault that he was a little socially inept when it came to relationships. No, that was entirely on him.

He'd seen countless romance movies and had even watched as all his friends interacted with their significant others. Jungkook knew what was expected in a relationship, yet he just wasn't feeling it with Sora. Any time you touched him, he found himself wanting more but holding back due to how much more he wanted. In this instance, he just felt nervous as to what type of touch would come next from the girl sitting across from him.

Then came the question.

"Wanna get out of here?", she smiled after dessert, the same flirtatious grin on her glossy lips.

Jungkook physically gulped at the implication, but somehow found himself responding.

"O-okay."

Was that enthusiastic enough?

Jungkook had been a gentleman. He'd walked Sora home, held her hand, and pulled her close to him as they swung their hands back and forth. It was nice. Sora was a really nice girl when she wasn't fucking Jungkook with her eyes — was that what she'd been doing? He wasn't exactly sure.

But his question was answered pretty quickly.

Kook had insisted on walking her all the way up to her apartment. She lived off campus and it was after dark, it just seemed like the proper thing to do. Even if the date hadn't been exactly what he'd hoped (through no real fault of Sora's), he wanted to remain polite to her.

Turning to him as they stepped foot in front of her door, Sora's hand went to rub at his arm, thumb feeling at the skin of his bicep in a sensual(?) way. Her eyes deemed slightly hooded and her grin was still present.

She took two steps forward, taking his lack of movement as indication he was okay with her coming closer. Which he was, but he was still anxious about it. Would she kiss him? Should he kiss her?

Her arms wrapped at the back of his neck, the hold causing him to lean down slightly. His balance left him at the sudden proximity, making him naturally wrap his arms around her waist. He kept the touch as feather-light as possible, not wanting to cross any boundary.

That's when she kissed him.

And it wasn't just any kiss. It wasn't like the two or three kisses Jungkook had shared with other girls in the past — no mere peck or short-lived kiss. Sora was very forward with her kiss, making Jungkook yelp in surprise as he tried to follow.

He kept at it only for a few moments before attempting to pull away with shy mutters and excuses, 'wait,' 'shit, i-' and 'maybe we shouldn't' were a few of them, with the last one finally making her fully pull away.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm just not sure I want to ...", he grimaced at himself, feeling like an idiot.

Sora was a pretty girl, clearly into him and seemingly willing to put up with his weird personality. Jungkook was simply being an idiot, thinking that he could go on a date and suddenly be over his years-long crush and-

"What? What do you mean?" she interrupted his thoughts, looking rather peeved off.

"I, uh, I mean that, uh, maybe we should wait? I don't wanna rush things and-"

Just as he pulled out the first excuse he could think of, — What, Jungkook? Were you really thinking of going out with her again or would you just ghost her? — she interrupted him again.

She looked at him with clear annoyance overtaking her features, arms on her hips as she moved her weight from one foot to another. Anyone who saw her could clearly see some sort of frustration in her demeanor.

"Jungkook, what did you think this was?", her tone was incredulous, "What was the point of all this?"

"W-what do you mean?"

She scoffed.

Okay, she didn't look as happy to be there anymore.

"We to some shitty restaurant late at night, I invite you back to my place, we kiss. What did you think I was expecting from all this?" she continued.

Jungkook was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he was too mortified to actually respond.

It was sex, right? Sora had seen this as a hookup rather than a date.

God damn you, Namjoon.

"I- it's not-"

"I thought you were interested. Hell, Joon said you kept asking him about me. That you were into me," she groaned, "I should've known. Everyone knows you're a prude. I've seen you shut down other girls, I just thought maybe I'd be an exception," she continued, confusing Jungkook further.

Fuck, had Joon tried setting him up with Sora? Jungkook knew his heart must've been in the right place, but he had probably misread Sora. They were clearly not compatible.

Jungkook kind of felt like he was going to cry. He felt so embarrassed by the situation. And there was no way he could clarify the white lie Joon had told her. It'd just exasperate her more.

"Do you have nothing to say? Should I just go into my apartment now?"

Jungkook looked at his shoes in remorse, feeling as if he'd actually done something wrong.

Kissing her had been a mistake. He should've stayed as he was, waiting for the perfect girl to come around. Should've trusted his gut despite Joon's insistence.

"I'm sorry. I, I didn't mean to lead you on."

She scoffed again, "Yeah, clearly. You should just go. And tell Joon to never set me up again," and with that, she'd entered her apartment, slamming the door on Jungkook in the process.

Jungkook stood there for a minute or two as he contemplated what had just happened.

Part of him was glad it had stopped where it did, while another part felt like an idiot for not going through with it. Granted, he had not expected such a big reaction to his rejection, but he could've used this opportunity to lose his virginity, maybe force himself to move on from you.

But Jungkook knew that would've been an even more disastrous experience. He didn't want to sleep with anyone just to get it over with. He wanted love. He wanted you.

With his tail between his legs, Jungkook went back home, disappointed at his first attempt at putting himself out there. He also made a mental note to spit in Joon's soup or something.

The way back home had been a mess of emotions.

Jungkook went from embarrassed, to angry, to confused, and ended up settling on mortified. That, and pathetic. That feeling seemed to always be present in Jungkook's mind, but tonight he felt a little more pathetic than usual.

I mean, he had had, by all means, what could be considered a perfect date. He had a girl who clearly wanted to take things further, yet he panicked like an idiot and caused her to blow up at him. At that moment Jungkook couldn't really find it in him to blame Sora for her reaction. He should've realized from Sora's advancements that she'd want more from him and shouldn't've fed into it throughout the night.

He wondered what you'd think of it all.

Would you have found Sora's reaction reasonable? Would you have comforted him after such a mortifying night.

Well, it turned out Jungkook would find out sooner than expected.

Despite your denial to his offer of staying over at his place while he was gone, he still found you sitting on his couch as soon as he entered the threshold of his apartment - you did have a key, after all.

You got up as soon as you saw him come in, clearly having been expecting him. Your demeanor did not seem as casual and laid back as it had a few hours ago. On the contrary, you looked troubled.

But Jungkook was sure he looked equally as troubled, if not more. He felt shock at seeing you there despite having left earlier, but it soon left him due to bigger matters taking over his mind at the moment.

"Kook," you started, putting your weight on your knees as you knelt on the couch.

"Uhm, hi. What- what are you doing here?"

He was hesitant in making his way to his own couch. Your presence was unnerving him for some reason (well, at least a different reason than usual). He could feel something different in the air. Your demeanor wasn't your usual.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, looking down to your lap.

"I don't- I'm not really sure."

That was unlike you.

"I thought you didn't want to stay in case I, uh, I brought Sora back home."

He didn't mean it in an accusatory manner, but perhaps his disheartened demeanor made it sound as such.

"Sorry, I can leave. I- I'll leave," you went to get up, but were swiftly stopped by Jungkook when he walked over to you, closing the distance.

"Don't- Please don't go. I could use the company," he offered you a loop-sided smile, hoping it didn't give away how shitty he was feeling.

You looked up at him now with the closer proximity between you. Jungkook knew you could probably see the glassiness in his eyes due to tonight's events. He hadn't cried on his way home, per say, but he had been pretty damn close to. And you, being you, would probably be able to clock it immediately.

"Are you okay?", you finally asked.

"It was just ... a very shitty day," he chuckled despite himself.

The two of you took a seat on the couch, the tension somehow still loud.

"What happened?"

"Oh, you know. I was kind of dumb to think a girl could possibly like me like that. Joon meant well, but ... it's just not for me, I guess."

He wanted to diminish it. To keep it vague so he wouldn't have to open that can of worms. The can of worms that were his deep-seethed insecurities and his never ending crush.

Turning your body to face him, your eyebrows furrowed in worry, bottom lip sticking out a bit in a subtle pout.

"Jungkook," your voice was serious, "Tell me what happened."

"You first," he rebutted, "Tell me why you're here."

He surprised himself a bit. Usually he had no problem letting you comfort him when he was down in the dumps. But something about your demeanor needed to be addressed first. That small seed of hope in the back of his mind was twinkling at it. Could it be? Had you stayed because-

"I didn't want you to bring her back home," you said after a few moments of silence, voice almost a whisper.

Your eyes were forcefully shut and a breath left you. It was as if it had been a huge weight on your shoulders. Though you didn't seem more relaxed at letting it out. If anything, you appeared even more pent up.

And Jungkook? His body was reacting to such a statement. The implications behind it had his heart racing and his hands clamming up. It'd be a punishment beyond belief if it didn't mean what he thought he meant.

But still, he asked.

"Why?"

"Please don't make me say it."

"I need you to. Please."

Sora was completely out of his mind despite the conversation orbiting around her. All he was thinking about was the pained tone in your voice when you'd said you didn't want her back here with Jungkook.

He felt sickly at the strange satisfaction that brought. Your pain was the last thing Jungkook could ever want, but this was the kind of pain Jungkook could remedy. Only one word from you — or rather, three — and he'd take it all away. He just needed a bit more from you to not risk it all. He needed you to take the risk, however selfish that might've been.

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, but never garnered the courage to actually say something. It was rare for you to not speak your mind around Jungkook, and that knowledge only made his heart race more. Wanting to encourage you, he scoot over a bit closer, placing his hand atop your own that was lying on your lap.

A soft smile was his reward for such an action. That and the brushing of your fingers before fully grasping his hand in yours. He loved holding your hand, even if he rarely allowed himself to do so.

"Why didn't you want me to bring her back home?", he asked again.

You sighed, nodding to yourself in what seemed to be self assurance before turning your eyes to his and finally speaking.

"Because I like you. And it would've killed me if you lost your virginity to someone else," you said in one quick breath. Your confidence pretty much left you after that. "I know that makes me a hypocrite, but I- I can't help it. I like you so much it hurts. I was never going to tell you, but I had no idea how much it'd actually affect me if you ever got a girlfriend," you continued, hand squeezing his own every so often, "I thought I'd be ready to see you find someone else and take that as a sign to move on but, fuck, I felt like shit walking out of here this afternoon knowing you were going to see another girl."

By the time you'd finished your confession, your eyes were glassy. They weren't really facing Jungkook's anymore, but he could still tell. His eyes were glassy too.

His heart had stopped within first sentence. He wasn't sure how he was currently sitting up, somehow not having passed out at the initial confession. He also found himself completely mute, unable to react to what was a life changing moment for him.

"Kook?", you called his attention, hand letting go of his own and retracting into yourself, "I kinda need you to say something here," you let out an awkward chuckle, eyes wide and worried in contrast.

"I- I, fuck," he stammered, "I almost slept with Sora tonight," was what he had not planned to say whatsoever, but still somehow found leaving his lips.

"Oh."

Yes. 'Oh.'

"Wait, I didn't mean-"

But you stood up, still refusing to look at him.

"I should go. I'm sorry if I got in the way of your plans."

You tried to push past him, but he towered over you, stubborn in letting you leave but still too panicked to return your sentiment.

He felt like a complete and utter piece of shit.

"Wait, please don't go," he pleaded, hand bracketing around your wrist.

"I think I embarrassed myself enough, Jungkook."

"You didn't! Please, I don't know why I said that. It wasn't true, I- I couldn't go through with it. That's what I meant to say," that seemed to get you to stop fighting him, but your sniffled and glassy eyes remained.

"It's fine, Jungkook. You don't have to try and spare my feelings. I knew it wasn't mutual, I didn't mean anything by it, I-"

That was seemingly what broke the camel's back.

"It is mutual! I'm in love with you!", he interrupted, surprising himself even more than you.

Quiet fell for a few moments, breaths as heavy as the tension of the room.

"What?"

"That's why I could never go on dates. Why I always said no when the guys set me up. Why I shut you off any time you got a boyfriend ... Why I stopped things with Sora before they could go too far."

His admission got you to finally look at him. The look in your eyes was indescribable to Jungkook. He'd never seen it before. There was shock mixed with something else. Perhaps hope? That's more or less what he felt at the moment.

"Are you lying to me?", you asked in a sudden shift of demeanor, now a serious edge to your tone.

"What? N-no! I- I love you. I've been in love with you for years. You can ask any of the guys. It's embarrassing and time-consuming, but it's always been there. I swear it's-"

That's as far as Jungkook got. He'd never be able to recall what other embarrassing detail about his crush he was about to share, but he found himself unable to care as soon as he realized what the source of his interruption was.

This kiss was incomparable — despite having shared a heavy kiss with someone else less than an hour prior.

No, this kiss was full of emotions Jungkook would need a thesaurus to describe. He was completely out of his league (but, really, when was he not?), lips attempting to follow your hungry ones but losing the battle.

The discrepancy in experience between the two of you was entirely too visible in the kiss, but Jungkook wasn't complaining. He was getting the better end of the stick and you didn't seem to find any issue, so he just counted his blessings and continued to kiss you to his heart's desire.

Your tongue sucked at his own, making his eyes roll back. His hands, which were usually shy in touching you, were greedy in grabbing at and squeezing any part of you available to him. The usual shyness was replaced with sheer need.

Usually, he would've been embarrassed by the needy whimpers he kept leaving against your lips, but he was too into it to stop. You'd reward every whimper with a slight pull of his hair, so he saw it as a good sign and allow himself to let loose.

When he was almost out of air, you pulled away, though Jungkook's lips attempted to follow, not wanting a single second of separation from you. He was able to steal two pecks and one lick of lips before you pressed your arms against his chest to stop him.

"I'm in love with you too," you were breathless as you said it, "I just thought it was safer to tell you I liked you to, you know, preserve some of my dignity in case it wasn't mutual," you chuckled.

Jungkook's mind was somewhere in Kansas at the moment, not really paying full attention to your words. Knowing you loved him back was life-changing, but the monkey-brained part of him was itching for more of your touch at the moment.

"Where'd your mind go?", you giggled when you took note of his dazed look.

Your hands went to pull him closer once more, which he accepted immediately by locking his arms around your waist.

"What? I, uh, nothing," he mumbled, eyes not meeting your own.

God, how had he gotten horny over a simple kiss?

You caught on quickly, grinning up at him as you attempted to fish at his eyes, following his head any time he tried to turn away from your view but failing. It was comedic in contrast to how tense things had just been.

"What's wrong, Kookie?", you sing-sang, "Something on your mind?"

He gave you what he was sure was a pathetic, pleading look, "Please don't be mean to me. My brain's barely catching up to what's happening," he whined.

"I get to be mean for you. You almost slept with another girl tonight," you huffed jokingly.

With a wince, he groaned, to which you just giggled, causing him to drop his head into your shoulder.

"That's not fair."

"I think it's pretty fair. Here I was, pining over you and you're out there about to give it away to some random girl," you continued.

His response came in the form of nuzzling into your neck, encouraged by your arms pulling him closer.

"Stop," he whined, "It was so shitty. I hated it."

You pulled him away from the comfort of the crook of your neck (much to his dismay) to look at him once more. Luckily for him, your arms were still on his shoulders, allowing him to retain close proximity to you — he was unsure how he'd ever accept any distance between you from now on.

There was some worry in your eyes. Or at least that's what the furrow in your brows and the slight pout made him think.

"What happened?"

"Oh, uh, it was nothing. She just ... I guess Joon's not that good at matchmaking," he explained, not really finding it worth it to go back to that moment. Not when he had something so much better now, and weirdly enough as a result of his shitty night.

You offered him another pout, reaching up to give him a sweet kiss as an acceptance of him not wanting to give too many details.

"Mmm, wait, not yet," he mumbled when you went to pull away, this time successful in keeping your lips locked.

Despite your giggle in response, you continued kissing him, soon going back to the pace you'd had during your earlier kiss. It soon turned heavy and wet, making Jungkook's mind daze once more.

Jungkook was on a mission, refusing to let the kiss end. Putting his all into the kiss, he allowed you to take his mind away, making him all but literally melt at your touch. Matching sighs left you, the sound mixing with the squelch of your tongues licking and sucking at each other.

Eventually, Jungkook turned around — lips still connected — and let himself be pushed to sit back on the couch, with you straddling his lap as a result. The newfound warmth of your body atop his own made him dizzy with desire. It was a feeling he'd never experienced before, and it was quickly growing addictive.

A high whine was left against your lips when your hands moved onto his hair, pulling at it softly at first and increasing the intensity based on his sounds. He melted under you, knowing he'd be willing to let you do whatever you wanted to him without even having to ask.

Hands explored your body, feeling an innate need to map out every inch and pull you as close to him as possible, almost to the point of molding with one another.

Your lips explored his neck for a bit, occasionally nibbling and licking at the skin. The contrast between the warmth of your breath and the coolness of your tongue had him sighing out in pleasure.

Who would've thought having his neck kissed could feel so orgasmic?

He wasn't sure whether he was happy or frustrated when your lips found his own again. As petulant as it sounded, he wanted your touch everywhere, all at once. His skin was burning, as were his loins — and no contact further than some kissing had been done.

"Mm, Kook-" you failed at interrupting the kiss, trapped into another and another, "Shit, Kook," you tried again, but easily fell back into it, letting Jungkook lick into your mouth, "Wait, baby."

Baby?

Okay, that stopped him.

"What's wrong?", Jungkook was sure he looked completely gone. His eyes were still glued to your lips and his chest heaved with his heavy breath.

"Are you sure you want to keep going with this? I don't want to push you," you asked, breath equally erratic.

He could've laughed at the question.

There was no doubt in his mind that he needed to keep going. His body was already about to explode, and you were asking him if he wanted to stop? He felt let out a silent whine at the mere suggestion of stopping.

He kissed you again, hands gripping your hips and instinctively pulling you closer.

You took this as a hint to crumble his sanity even further by beginning to grind on him, slow yet intensely. It had him hiccuping in pleasure against your lips, sighing out and allowing you access to his open mouth.

"Please- oh, fuck, please," he pleaded for nothing in particular.

"Is this okay?," you asked uselessly.

Jungkook nodded, letting his head fall back to the back of the couch as his hips pathetically humped up along with yours. There was no direct contact, but the mere stimulation had Jungkook's eyes seeing white. It was reminiscent of all those nights he'd grow too frustrated with himself and begin humping at his pillow with you in mind. He'd always been too embarrassed to acknowledge such a deprived act, but at least he could now confirm there were no grounds for comparison.

"It's so good, fuck. Want- want more."

By then, you were humping at each other like deprived animals, gasping and crying out at the contact.

Jungkook was unsure when you'd thrown off your shirt, far too distracted by the feeling of you on top of him, but his ability to think completely left him at that moment. Your hands let go of him, instead grabbing at your breasts and playing with yourself right in front of him.

It was like a wet dream come to life, mocking him by showing him how weak and pathetic he was.

The sight had him let out an embarrassing whimper. His face reflected how pained he felt at the view, so needy and painfully horny for you.

"Y-you're so ... Fuck, please, I need- can I ... ?"

He wasn't sure what sentence he was trying to make, but the ability to feel shame had exited his mind a good while ago. To be frank, Jungkook wasn't even sure what reality he was in at the moment. The only thought occupying his mind was your body testing his resolve in a way that he knew would ruin him.

You nodded, biting your lip to prevent a smile of satisfaction as Jungkook let his head fall in between your breasts, lips immediately mapping out the are through kisses and needy flicks of the tongue. He grew immediately obsessed with the feeling of your skin under his touch. It was soft, supple, just perfect to the touch. The scent of your perfume was even stronger now, and Jungkook knew then that the smell alone could probably condition him into a boner from now on.

His hips became frantic then, almost pushing you off him with their intensity. But you took it, silently leading him with your own movements as you held onto him for support.

He was beginning to lose himself, knowing an orgasm was approaching. The fleeting thought of your own orgasm made its way into his mind, but it was quickly gone when you started to breathe out encouragements for him to cum, claiming you were right there with him, that you needed him to ruin his pants for you.

When it finally took him, his eyes crossed, head thrown back as he babbled nonsense in absolute bliss. His brain was barely able to register when a few moments later, your own orgasm hit you just as hard. His hips never gave up, still softly swaying with yours as his high went down. He could've sworn he lost consciousness for a few second, as he finally became conscious with himself again when you were kissing at his neck again.

"Fuck. I wasn't planning on that happening," you giggled between soft pecks to the already tattered skin.

"Is this real?", he mused after a few moments of silence. His hands even went to squeeze at your hips, making sure you were truly there.

Unfortunately for him, that's when you left his lap, making him whine as he sat up to close your distance.

"That's not even the best of it, pretty boy," were your last words before turning towards his room, smiling at him to follow you.

Jungkook, being Jungkook, did not think twice before getting up and following you without further instruction, even tripping in the process.

~

Within just a few minutes of being in his room, you were down to your panties and him to his boxers. As mandated by nature, you were sitting on him again, holding him down by pinning his arms above his head as you made out with him as nasty as you'd done in his living room.

Jungkook had no complaints. If you wanted him tied up and to your mercy, he'd go as far as to beg for the opportunity. His mind was not his own anymore, and neither was his body. As far as he was concerned, he belonged to you — a totally reasonable thought to have.

To be fair, it was quite hard for him to think while the girl of his dreams was lying on top of him with her tongue in his mouth. Not that he was complaining, not at all.

Surprisingly to Jungkook, his hands took free rein of your body. They went from your hair to your back to your ass to your waist and back to your hair. A whole tour of your body was had before Jungkook decided to take a leap and sneak one of his hands between your bodies and take a route south.

Jungkook was inexperienced. That was an unfortunate fact of his life. But despite popular belief, Jungkook was not an idiot. He liked to believe that he was more knowledgeable than the average guy ... maybe. He had tried to overcompensate early during college by taking a female sexuality course and diving into the depths of reddit in order to understand the things he hadn't been able to experience first hand.

That being said, you still had to silently nudge his hand a little higher in the midst of making out, leading him to your clit before gasping into his mouth at the sensation.

His bruised ego got re-inflated quickly after, with your following reactions to his corrected movements going straight to his dick. Your hips canted against his fingers, following their movements in a desperate attempt at increasing the stimulation. Jungkook's head felt heavy at the constant sighs you'd release against his lips.

"Does ... does it feel good?", he still felt the need to ask.

You hummed into his lips in response, tightening around his fingers at the sound of his voice.

Fuck, did you like his voice?

This was something he'd need to save for future use.

Before he could continue to speak, you regrettably removed his fingers from inside you, earning a whine and a furrowed eyebrow from him.

"As much as I want you to finger me, I'd rather defile you," you said with all seriousness, giggling when Jungkook's reaction didn't go further than wide eyes.

"It's okay, baby. I'll make it good for you, I promise," your hand laid on his cheek, caressing it in a gentle manner, creating a huge contrast with your soaked panties sitting right on top of his stained boxers. That was just something he had to ignore in order to not burst spontaneously.

"That's not really what I'm worried about," he avoided eye contact, though his hands remained on you.

"Then what's wrong, Kookie?"

"What if ... what if it's not good for you. I, uh, I know you've done it with a few guys before — N-not judging or anything! Just, I- I don't want to disappoint you or, uhm, embarrass myself," he mumbled some parts lower than others, a little embarrassed by his insecurities on top of it all.

"Koo," you pouted at him, tilting his chin towards you — something that otherwise would've had him reeling — "I've already had way more fun with you than with anyone else. You know why?", you gave him that comforting smile he loved, "Because I like you, and I know you like me just as much. And I know you'll do everything in your power to make this good for me cause you're just ... you're such a good guy. This is just about making each other feel good. Okay? No need to worry about making me feel good, I promise I already am," you punctuated your statement with a kiss to his nose, giggling when he scrunched it.

"Yeah, I, uh, yeah, okay."

He suddenly found himself blushing, having undermined your proximity, or, you know, the fact that you were naked and on top of him, coaxing him into sex that he very much wanted to have with you.

Before you could say anything else, a fiery part of him took over, pulling you into him for a steamy kiss, wanting to express all his word-vomit through actions rather than stumbled words. There was no better way for him to show you how he felt about you, how good he wanted to make you feel. His words would often fail him, so he opted to show you through his actions.

Mid kiss, you got up from his lap, though Jungkook did not allow for the kiss to end, opting to lean upwards and sit up so he could keep himself connected to you. It was awkward, having you lean down as you blindly removed your panties, but it felt necessary to Jungkook. Within seconds you were already back on his lap, clawing at his own boxers to try and remove them while still sitting. It was awkward and difficult, but the job was eventually done, leaving the two of you nude as Jungkook attempted not to hump into you like a needy animal.

"I- I want- God, I want to fuck you so bad," he mumbled in a daze.

"Fuck, you have no idea, Kookie."

You sounded equally as wrecked, already one orgasm in and completely drenched above him. It made Jungkook feel powerful and wanted. He'd never felt desired like this before. It was making him lose his mind. Every passing second without being inside you made him more and more antsy.

Then you finally lifted yourself up, this time prying Jungkook's hands away from your hips so you could lean towards his end table where he knew you'd find condoms.

That shocked Jungkook, making him look at you with wide eyes.

"How-

"I know the guys have been trying to get you laid for ages. Jimin told me he got you some condoms," you chuckled at his shock as you nonchalantly ripped the packet open with your mouth, — fuck, why was that so hot? — taking your position on his crotch once more in order to insert it.

He whimpered at the sight, too turned on to feel embarrassed over it as he ushered for you to hurry up. More tiny sounds of desperation continued to leave him as you actually slipped on the condom and lifted yourself up. The buildup drove him insane with desire. Every second felt elongated, but when the moment to finally lower yourself on him came, Jungkook swore he left this dimension.

He'd read about what it was like. Hell, he'd watched endless porn depicting what were meant to represent virgins (but he was aware were just actors), hoping to understand what the feeling of finally being enveloped by an actual pussy would feel like. But it was safe to say none of it came close to reality.

He was unsure of what he must've looked like to you at that moment, but he truly felt himself completely ruined. His mouth was agape while his eyes closed shut, eyebrows lifting so high up they were likely at his hairline. Fingers dug into your skin, careless of any bruises they could leave behind (he made a mental note of asking if he could kiss them better later, but it was buried under every other feeling at the moment). His toes curled and his body hair rose in goosebumps. Every other part of himself went unaccounted for, as pleasure took over his ability to process anything else.

It was the safest feeling possible. He knew it was an odd way to describe it, but he truly felt like he was made to be inside you. Like he was fitting a part of the puzzle he'd been looking for forever.

On top of that was the immense pleasure, of course. The incoherent pleas and whimpers leaving his lips were a testament of it.

He begged and pleaded and cried and whined and made every embarrassing sound known to man as you started to move. You'd given him a few moments to get used to it, asking if you could move (you only received a gasp and a pathetic nod as a response) before you began a pace so torturously good that it had Jungkook reconsidering his religion.

"S'so good ... fuck. Oh, god, fuck, it's so- ah! shit, f-fuck me," he babbled, literally drooling at the feeling.

He was so yours in this moment, it was ridiculous. Jungkook had always claimed himself as yours (and had even subconsciously saved himself for you), but this feeling simply solidified it. There was no reality in which he wasn't made for you. Made to receive and give all the pleasure from and to you.

At first, his brain could not even process the view above him, and he was glad for it. Because as soon as he could, he was a gone man.

You mirrored his reaction to a certain extent, gasping and furrowing your brows any time his dick would hit a specific part of you that gave you that extra hit of pleasure. Your back was arched and your pelvis glued to his own. The view was something Jungkook could never forget.

"Feel so good, Kookie, fuck ... How could you be worried when it's so fucking good ..." you sighed.

You rambled praise for him, aiding tenfold to the indescribable feeling of being with you in such a bare form. Jungkook was sure his orgasm was pathetically close, but he could not bring himself to even think of it. Not when his undoing was so unimaginably euphoric.

He had no way of warning you, instead writhing and gasping under you. It was an out of body experience, taking him to a place so high he wasn't sure he would ever come back down.

And then everything went dark.

He wasn't sure how long he was unconscious for, but by the time the convulsions ended and his heart rate went back down, you were already lying down next to him. Cuddled up next to him, your fingers ran up and down his chest in a softness he'd never experienced, accompanied by the occasional peck left against his skin.

"Love you," he mumbled when his words finally found him.

"You scared me!," you sat up a bit to face him better, "Are you back with me now? Did my pussy break you?"

You were joking, but Jungkook was almost entirely sure that was what had happened.

"How long was I out for?", he turned to face you, arm wrapping around you to pull you closer.

"Just a few minutes. Was that too intense?"

"Hah, no, just ... yeah. I've never felt something like that before."

"Well, now you get to feel it any time you want," you grinned at him with a peck to his lips.

"Hmm, yeah," he mumbled happily before a thought snapped him out of his post-coital daze, "Wait, fuck, did you cum?"

"Yeah. I was almost there, Kookie, don't worry. Just had to work myself a bit more after you passed out. No biggie," you reassured him.

Before he could protest, you shushed him with your hand hovering over his mouth.

"Don't whine about it. I literally came in my pants because of you. Consider that a win."

And that was that.

Jungkook decided to let it go and instead cuddle you to sleep, completely disregarding the rollercoaster this night had been. Nothing else really seemed to matter while he held you in his arms anyways. Especially due to the warmth of your bare skin against his own, just like he'd always wanted.

to read short 1.8k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: jk and reader being annoying and in their honeymoon phase, smut, afab reader, grinding, kissing, oral (m receiving), overstimulation, etc.

wc: 451 (teaser); 1842 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"God, man, I heard about Sora. I'm so sorry," Joon began, "I didn't think she'd be so mean to you. She hounded me in the hallway just an hour ago about lying to her and setting her up with a loser — sorry, her words."

This caused you to groan in annoyance, cuddling further into Jungkook at the mention of the faceless girl you'd never met but had grown to hate.

Jungkook had let you in on all the details on what had happened upon further insistence from you. It was safe to say that he had to talk you down from jumping her in the hallway (he knew you'd never actually do such a thing, but the thought counted regardless).

"Ew, don't bring her up. Jungkook's never looked in another woman's direction ever. Right, Kookie?"

It was a little inside joke between you. After having defiled him, you'd developed some healthy possessiveness over him. He was over the moon about it, always playing into it.

Joon simply chuckled, rolling his eyes at both the joke and the sight of the two of you practically cuddled up on a bench in the middle of the quad. No sense or shame for being that annoying couple, nor any care for your other friends sitting across from you, already put off by you.

"It's true," Jungkook nodded, "And that shitty date ended up working in my favor in the end, so if anything, I should be thanking you," he added.

"Finally getting you to shut up about Y/N is payment enough," he walked over to the bench you'd been sitting at, with Taehyung and Jimin sitting to the other side of it.The two had quickly learned to disregard the two of you and your lovesickness for each other, "Now get off each other. No one needs to see you sitting on Jungkook's lap at 11:30 in the morning."

"We already tried. They literally kicked me off that side of the bench so she could lay on him," grumbled Jimin before giving his attention back to Taehyung.

You got up then, nose scrunching at Kook's whine at the sudden disconnect between you, "It's fine. We were just leaving anyway," you held out your hand for him to get up.

"Let me know when the honeymoon phase is over," jested Joon as he took the seat you'd emptied.

Already on your way to leave, you turned back with a smile, "You're just jealous that me and my boyfriend are in love!", Jungkook giggled at your loudness.

"Where are we going?", he asked as he followed you mindlessly.

"To get some privacy, baby. They don't tolerate real lovers here," you joked in a mockingly serious tone.

...

find the continuation on patreon!

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[esote-rika]

derision as prelude to desire | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Waldorf!Reader

Category: smut 18+ MDNI, fluff if you squint

Summary: Spencer Reid’s new coworker is mean but one night doing overtime together leads to the two of them bonding.

Content: glasses!Spencer, workplace rivals if you squint, Spencer Reid vs technology, reader is kind of mean and based on Blair Waldorf (in background, looks, and personality), Spencer is petty, his mind is in the GUTTER, use of eye drops, making out, sub!Spencer, fingering, oral (male receiving), whining and begging glasses!Spencer. Let’s pretend the BAU doesn’t have any CCTV cameras for this one m’kay thanks

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: This is an ITCH in my brain, like I’ve been thinking about a Spencer Reid x Blair Waldorf crackship since August last year it’s actually concerning. One of my favorite ship dynamics is loser boy x popular girl, so it makes sense. Still in second person to make it immersive. This isn’t a crossover, so there will be no spoilers for Gossip Girl. The reader's personality, looks and background are just based on Blair. Let me know if you want to read more of this dynamic because I have so many ideas for it oh my god. I hope you enjoy it!

Spencer Reid often muses on the series of events that had brought you from the streets of the Upper East Side to work in Quantico, Virginia. It would be easy to ask, of course, or even have Penelope do a quick background check on you, but he’s made a game of it instead, piecing together what he knows of your history, filling in the blanks of what would have gone wrong, what decisions you would have taken, in order to leave the privileged life you led and enter public service.

As far as he had been concerned, you don’t belong anywhere near the FBI, let alone the BAU. Spoiled, rich, with a mean streak he is all too familiar with from his time in school.  

He had been so sure you wouldn’t fit in when you first joined the team. You had been, and continue to be, perfectly made, every single hair shiny and curled just so, heels always so shiny and matching whatever designer bag you have slung over your shoulder. Everything about you screams high maintenance, and his profiler instincts point to several things: uncooperative, wants everything handed to you, ditzy.

But then you had shown your cards, had proved his assessment so wrong and he could never forgive you for the sting of that defeat.

It doesn’t help that you seem to enjoy riling him up as well. Every case is an opportunity to one up him, an attempt to claim his spot and it’s unfair. You already have everything, yet you still refuse to yield the title of team genius to him, the one thing he can cling to, the thing he knows is his. 

He is still glowering today, four months into your employment, passive aggressively hitting the keys on his keyboard. He’s a slow typist, and he’d agreed to write Morgan’s reports for him this week, a favor between friends he’s now beginning to regret. You are the only one keeping him company. The rest of the team has already left hours ago, but you’re typing away at your desk, fingers flying through the keyboard without even a glance. His own skills seem laughable in comparison, going at the keys one by one, with the speed of an old grandparent squinting over a typewriter instead of a man in his twenties. 

“Take a picture, Reid, it’ll last longer.”

He blinks, forcing his eyes back to the monitor. “You’re so original.” he mutters, pushing his glasses up to nestle on top of his head. He rubs his eyes, already despising the glare of the screen.

“Aw, what, the genius can’t handle a little blue light?”

He doesn’t bother with a response, blinking at the screen instead. The sooner he can get this done, the sooner he can leave. Sounds of tapping keys fill the air again, but he stops after a few moments again, rubbing at his eyes. He hears a sigh, and then your voice again, haughty but somehow concerned.

“You’re not supposed to rub your eyes, it makes it worse.” 

“I know,” he grumbles, “I don’t need you lecturing me about the importance of eye health.”

“It seems like you do, since you’re still doing it.” you reply derisively. He’d be rolling his eyes if he isn’t too busy rubbing them.

“Here,” you say, “Catch.”

Confused, he lifts his head, only to flinch as something hurls right at him. “What-” it hits his desk, then bounces off.

“Oh, look what you’ve done, genius.”

“You threw it at me.” his lips are pulled into a tight line of disapproval, “A head’s up would have been nice.”

“I did, genius, I said catch. You just have the reflexes of an eighty year old.” your voice is tinged with annoyance.

To his surprise, you’re up and walking to his desk, heels echoing in the empty bullpen. He watches as you gingerly kneel on the ground, bending down, and his eyes grow wide. The image of you bent down like this is surprisingly enticing, your skirt straining against the soft curve of your hips, hair falling down your shoulders like a curtain of the night sky. You’ve gotten close enough that he can smell your perfume, something citrusy and clean, and he subconsciously leans closer.

Mouth dry, he manages to croak out, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find the damn eye drops.” you snap, an arm extending towards him and for a moment he holds his breath, waiting for contact. Instead, you grab something from the ground, “There it is.” 

He watches as you straighten, lifting your torso upright, but still kneeling in front of him. An image flashes through his mind, your face between his thighs, those large eyes staring up at him, but he banishes it quickly lest his thoughts begin to stir his body. 

“Here, these should help.” You say, finally standing back up and placing the tiny bottle on his desk. A filthy part of him wishes you’d get back on your knees. He catches the tilt of your head, the confusion in your eyes, “Reid. Are you still with me? Has your brain finally short circuited from all those statistics?”

Oh his brain is short circuiting, all right, just from a different cause.

“I’m - yeah.” he replies, and then he rattles off the first thought his frazzled mind could come up with, “Did you know some people have used eye drops as a method for murder? Not these ones, but there are specific brands that contain—”

“Tetrahydrozoline,” you finish for him, “Yeah, I know.”

He blinks. There you go again, proving your intellect, your value, somehow matching his even though he’s pretty sure you are no genius, not in the same way he is. Still, perhaps it’s the late night, or your offer of relief, but the sting of being bested doesn’t resonate tonight. A softer feeling unfurls in his chest, something warm and addictive, something like understanding. He smiles, “That’s right.”

You nod, curls spilling over your shoulders again, “Mhm. Well… These are for your eyes, I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you.”

A scoff, “Please, I’m not dumb enough to attempt murder in the office.”

His brows lift and he finds himself grinning, “So you’ve thought about it?”

“I will neither deny nor confirm.” you’re smiling now too, and he lets his eyes roam over the pretty lines of your face, memorizing how lovely you look in this moment, guards lowered and smiling at him with ease. He thinks he sees something flash in those pretty eyes of yours but he’s not sure. Reading people has never been his strong suit, regardless of his profession.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” you gesture at his glasses, and he immediately obeys, pushing it back up to nestle on his hair. He holds his breath as you come closer, bites his lips when your hand comes to his chin. It’s soft, unbelievably gentle, and you tilt his head back. From this angle, he can see the way your lashes curl, the soft hint of shimmer swept across your lids. Eyeshadow, he remembers from what Penelope and JJ have told him, and it highlights the shape of your eyes, making them appear brighter.  

He blinks as coolness hits his eye, and then you’re tilting his head to the other side, and he’s trying not to panic, trying not to be a creep, but in reality, he hasn’t been this close, this intimate to a woman in so long that it’s messing up his ability to inhale, to think, to function. Your hair flutters gently around his face, and the scent of citrus is stronger now, heady, and he feels so light headed he’s afraid he’ll faint.

The same coolness hits the other eye, and before you can pull away, before he can think it through, he’s curling his own hand over your wrist. He lifts it up, pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm, admonishing any thoughts of germs and bacteria, and instead relishing at the tender flesh beneath his lips. He kisses your palm again, lips gently tracing the lines, before moving down to the inside of your wrist, before pausing.

He dares to peer up, waiting for a reprimand, a cutting sentence that would have him lashing back at you, but there’s none. There it is again, the flicker in your eyes, and now he finally knows the word to attach to it: desire.

He kisses the inside of your wrist again, and feels you pulse fluttering beneath his lips. Fast, to his surprise, almost matching the quick succession of thudding in his chest. 

“Reid,” you whisper, and he waits again, allows you time to pull away. You don’t, but he’s apprehensive now, afraid he’s crossed a boundary. He definitely has, but he would do it again if you express the desire to do so, to tumble into whatever this is with him. He just needs confirmation, one verbal acknowledgement that you want this too, because he doesn’t trust his ability to read you yet, not when he’s spent so much time despising you.

But you’re just looking at him, and the embarrassment is almost painful. His cheeks heat up, and he drops your hand.

“I’m sorry.” he murmurs, sinking back on his seat. He’s about to turn to his monitor, intent to forget about this, forget everything even though his memory would make that impossible, but he finds his face being tilted up again, cradled between impossibly soft hands, and then there’s lips against his own, your lips, oh god you are kissing him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, following the movement of your mouth to the best of his limited ability. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lets out an involuntary whimper, his body jerking at the sting. He feels you smiling against his mouth, cocky even in the midst of a kiss, in the midst of the most heated kiss he’s had since - since - he can’t even remember her, the brief dalliance he had with an actress once upon a time, because all he can think of is your mouth, and your hands, nails scratching at his scalp, and every single thought is expelled from his mind when you climb on his lap.

“God,” he moans in between kisses, his breaths ragged, but he would gladly drown in you before stopping.

“Not god,” you correct him and nip at his lower lip with more force this time.

“Mhm.” he whines, and kisses you again, shifting so you’re more comfortable on his lap. He wonders if the chair is creaking from your combined weight, but then you’re grinding directly on his cock and he’s lost in a haze of white hot pleasure. 

Apparently, Spencer Reid cannot multitask, because his lips fall slack as you grind against his hardening cock. Your laughter tinkles in his ear, before your mouth latches on his jaw, down his neck, open and wet and sticky. He knows you said you aren’t god, and he’s never been religious, but he swears this must be heaven. Fitting too, in the same way he’s never thought he’d reach some place he doesn’t even believe in, he’s also never thought he would have you—beautiful, infuriating, untouchable you—grinding on his lap with a desperation that borders frenzy.

Recognizing that your need burns you just as his is making him reckless, he manages to whisper, “Tell me— tell me what to do. How do I make you feel good?”

You giggle, taking one of his hands away from your waist and leading it under your skirt. The fabric has bunched up over your thighs, and he grips the smooth flesh greedily. But you have other ideas, and he’s eager to learn, so he lets you move his hand higher, until the tips of his fingers brush against moist fabric.

His mouth goes dry. You’ve soaked through your panties. 

“Like this?” he dips his fingers past the lace, his mouth falling open at the slick that’s gathered at your core. You have your face buried at his neck, lips and tongue still assaulting the tender skin there, but he feels you nod, feels the shudder that runs through you, and he takes those as a good sign. His touch is exploratory, gentle, fueled by an intoxication over the fact that you’re here and you’re enjoying it, you’re making those sounds for him. 

He’s awestruck rather than cocky, and when he slides his fingers into your pussy, he’s immediately trying to figure out a rhythm that would draw out those pretty noises from your lips. When he finds it, he sticks to it, greedily drinking in your moans, no matter how muffled they are against his neck.

There’s a sense of degeneracy to this whole thing. Fingering his coworker in the office, right there on his desk, he could get fired should this get out, they both could. Still, he’s never truly had anyone want him so unabashedly and he simply cannot stop. You had been the one to kiss him, after all, the lines in the sand had been completely trampled by the time you had climbed on his lap. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper, and he feels you move, riding his hand shamelessly, and he has to bite your shoulder to keep himself from whining again. The sight alone nearly undoes him, and you’ve barely done anything. He’s been actively providing you with stimulation this whole time, fucking you with his fingers relentlessly, and somehow, he wouldn’t change a single thing. 

“Yeah?” he asks, pupils blown wide, wanting, needing the assurance that he’s doing good, he’s making you feel good.

“Yes, oh fuck, yes!” your voice grows sharper as he curls his fingers with every thrust. After a few moments of fumbling with your panties, his thumb presses against your clit and he’s rewarded by another groan from you. 

He draws figure eights against your slick core, finding a rhythm that has you tugging at his hair wildly, and he’s whispering into your ear, pleading, “That’s it, please come for me, please, let me see how good you feel, please, please—”

“Spencer!” you groan, and then you’re shuddering in his lap, and his fingers down to his knuckles are wet with your slick. 

He grins, helping you through your orgasm, pressing kisses to your hair, the FBI issued office chair creaking so much he’s afraid the two of you would break it if you don’t stop. The image is hilarious in its absurdity, making his grin widen, and you must have taken it for arrogance because he feels a slight smack on his shoulder.

“Don’t get cocky.” you mutter.

He takes you in, the flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, mascara now smudged along your lash lines, and he’s reverential instead of arrogant, grateful that he has brought someone so stunning and capable to the throes of pleasure, has taken you apart so much you’ve ruined your normally perfect facade. 

“You’re beautiful.” he tells you, his own eyes glistening with an unfocused daze. You roll your eyes and shake your head, and he’s seized with a desire to keep you hear and bury his fingers inside you over and over again until you believe him.

“Your turn.” You chuckle, hands unwinding from his neck and travelling down the length of his abdomen, coming to the buckle on his belt.

“Wait, I—uh,” he turns beet red once again, clearing his throat, “Are you on the pill? I don’t have—”

You tilt your head, as if the idea of a man walking around without a condom is foreign. Perhaps it is, but Spencer simply never assumed he would have any use for it. He turns away, teeth worrying his lower lip, but you pull his face to you again.

“I have hands.” you say as you resume undoing his pants. You shift, then slink away from him, and he whines at the loss of your warmth, but he sees you on your knees once again, and this time it’s not just his brain making up lewd, inappropriate thoughts, “And a mouth.”

“Y-you really don’t have to.”

“I know,” you grin, pretty as the devil and twice as tempting, and as your hands wrap around his engorged length, thumb circling at the tip, “But how can I not, when you’re this pretty?”

He blacks out, he swears he does, there’s no way this isn’t a perverted dream, no way that you’re actually stroking up and down his throbbing cock. Somehow he comes to, only to feel a warmth, a wetness, enveloping the swollen tip, and his hips buck up instinctively. He whines when your hands push at his thighs, holding him in place. 

“Please,” he gasps, babbles, really, “Please, oh god, that feels so good.” 

You take him further down and he throws his head back so violently the glasses slip past his ears and clatter onto the floor. He feels your laughter vibrating against his cock and it almost has him keening. He whines, wriggles against your hold with no real desire to break free. He finds that likes the force of your hands on him, nails leaving harsh indents on his flesh as he struggles. The pain is delicious, heightening his already frazzled senses.

You bob your head up and down, your hair swaying gently, and he manages to will his hands to move, gathering the soft tresses in his hand so they won’t impede your movement. Your eyes flicker up, meet his own, and he swears there’s a thank you in the glint of them. He cannot do anything else. 

Slack jawed, he watches you hollow your cheeks, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth as you give him the best head he’s ever experienced. Never mind that it’s his first one, and that he doesn’t have a point of comparison. He’s convinced this is the best, you are the best, and he’s never been more thankful for his eidetic memory until this night, knowing that he cannot, will never, ever forget the way you look as you knelt down and sucked his cock like you were being paid to do it. 

“God, you’re so pretty, oh my god, yes, just like that, please, please, yes.” he’s aware that he’s whining, and there’s an amused twinkle in your eye that tells him he would never hear the end of this after. 

He knows you well enough to know that you would dangle this over his head any chance you get, that you aren’t above playing dirty. Instead of dread, it makes his stomach roil with another gush of desire, and he knows that that is even more concerning than whatever you were going to do.

(It never occurs to him to do the same, that he could tease you back and point out that he has had you on your knees and sucking on his cock like you were made for it simply because his brain cannot fathom ever associating the sight of you kneeling before him as something to be ashamed of.)

He’s drawn from his thoughts as he feels your hands cupping his balls, stimulating an entirely new area that has him thrusting up. He feels his cock brush against the back of your throat, and he pulls back immediately, eyes wide with worry as you gag around his length.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby you can stop if—”

But you do it again, soldiering past your gag reflex and taking him all the way, and he can hear someone saying oh fuck oh fuck I’m cumming agh, please, I’m cumming, and he thinks its his own voice but he’s unsure. His eyes are squeezed shut, colors exploding behind his lids as he feels your tongue swirling over and over his sensitive cock, before the cool air surrounds it, telling him you’ve stopped completely.

When he opens his eyes, you have your head on his thigh, cheek pressed against the fabric, a lazy smile on your ruined lips.

“God,” he whispers, reaching for you, wanting you close, “That was—wow, you—come here, please.”

He watches as a flicker of surprise flits over your face, before you mask it with a giggle, “Good?” you murmur, tucking his soft cock into his pants before climbing on his lap again.

“Incredible.” He holds you tight, your slick only half dry on his fingers, the taste of him still on your tongue, “You’re incredible.”

You’re quiet, contemplative, and he presses a kiss to your neck, wanting to bring you out of whatever funk you’ve gone into, “Hey, what is it?” He’s almost terrified of the answer, worried you would pull away and leave him cold.

“I just didn’t think you’d be a cuddler.” you reply, eventually sinking into his arms. Your voice is soft when you say, “Most men aren’t.”

The thought of her having experiences doesn’t bother him; it’s the fact that they callously left her after that makes him tighten his hold on her. “I’m sorry.”

“For the entirety of shitty men? You’d need more apologies than that,” you chuckle, fingers absently curling into his hair, “But thank you. This is— this is nice.”

“It is,” Spencer nods, leaning into your touch, eyes shut.

“You lost your glasses.”

“I did.”

Your laughter fills the air, “Hey, are you sleepy? You still have Morgan’s reports to finish.”

His eyes flutter open, a sheepish smile on his lips, “Why’d you have to remind me?”

“Because the sooner you finish it, the sooner we can do this again.”

Spencer laughs, kissing your shoulder as he relents, “All right, all right.” That’s more than enough incentive to brave staring at the monitor again.

[miniseokminnies]

the gambit —- y.jh

♙ pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ♙ genre: enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, 1960s au, university au, chess club president!jeonghan, club member!yn ♙ wc: ~12.5k ♙ warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexism (it's the 1960s), heavily implied reader is a virgin, unprotected sex (that's a no no), oral sex [f. receiving], fingering, pet names, praise kink, marking, drinking and getting drunk, a lot of rude men ♙ a/n: this is obviously VERY LOOSELY inspired by The Queen's Gambit lol. give jeonghan a chance he's learning okay?? thank you to my army of beta readers: @haologram, @lovetaroandtaemin, @highvern, and @tomodachiii i genuienly would not have this posted without them. ♙tags: @seungkw1, @cherry-zip, @crab-ranjun, @myhimbomingi oh and happy holidays i guess (i wanted to have this out way sooner) enjoy! and as always comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated

Three succinct knocks rang out as you rapped your knuckles against the door frame. The man alone inside the room looked in your direction. Looking him over you noticed his striking features that were delicately framed by his black hair that was only a bit shorter than your own. 

“Are you lost, miss?” He straightened up, “Sorority recruitment is across the hall.” He turned back to setting up the chess set on the table in front of him. 

“What?” you asked, confused, “No, this is the chess club, is it not?” 

“It is,” he didn’t bother looking in your direction this time. 

“Then I am in the right place,” you took a few steps into the room as he looked up at you again. 

“Girls don’t play chess.” he stifled a laugh. 

“There’s nothing in the university rules against gir-women joining recreational clubs.” You watched him sigh and snatch a notebook off the table. 

“Look,” he walked closer to you and held out the notebook, “you may watch” 

“I have my own notebook, thank you.” You turned on your heel and huffed into a chair near a chess set across the room. The man watched you for a moment before turning back to his task of setting up the chess boards. You could only assume that he was the president of the club, but could not wrap your head around why he was voted in.  

After waiting for a few moments several more boys began trickling into the room, all of them giving you a once over. Have these people never seen a girl before? 

“Excuse me miss,” one of the boys approached you and sat at the board nearest to you, “I’m Minghao”

“Y/N,” you nodded and scribbled his name down in your book. You could feel Minghao’s eyes on you, but you didn’t feel as though you owed him any explanation.  After a few minutes another boy who introduced himself as Wonwoo joined Minghao at the table. 

The president announced that the meeting today would function “tournament style” and everyone should get the chance to have a match with each other. Perfect.  

Wonwoo and Minghao played well, but Wonwoo had a bad habit of leaving his queen unprotected and Minghao always overutilized his rook. In the end, even with a queen out in the open, Wonwoo found a checkmate. 

Minghao was unhappy with this result and challenged him to a rematch outside of club time which Wonwoo eagerly agreed to.  You were finishing up your notes on their match when two new men appeared at your table introducing themselves as Mark and Yunho.  

The remaining matches went by quickly, you felt the president’s eyes on you every so often, he wondered what you could possibly be taking such detailed notes about when you weren’t even playing.  Men came and went, all politely introducing themselves to you, clearly they don’t take after their fearless leader in any capacity.  

The “tournament” went on for a few hours, your ass was starting to go numb from the chair by the time it was called in favor of the president, who peculiarly you never had the opportunity to observe.  He dismissed the club and they all filtered out as you finished up your notes. You heard his footsteps approaching as you dotted the last punctuation on the page.  

“So?” he started smugly, “Enjoy your observations?” he watched as you ripped out several pages of your own notebook.  You rose out of your seat and square your shoulders, you shoved the pages into his chest and left the room without another word. He watched you leave the room, your skirt swishing around your knees.  

Tearing his eyes from the door he looked down at the papers you left him.  He read over them and quickly realized what it was you were doing all this time.  Each member was written down and in detail you scrawled out every single missed check from each and every game played here today.  

The bottom of the page reads “The President: ?”      

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Cami, flopped around in her bed, “It’s the first month of classes, there’s no way you have course work already”

“I don’t” you moved your rook, not looking away from the board, “Remember how I told you I was going to join the chess club?”

“Yes?” 

“Well the stupid president won’t let me play” you captured white’s queen, “so I’m not able to practice with anyone” you heard her throw her blankets around and the clatter of her hand hitting her glasses, 

“What?” she hissed, “he can’t do that can he?” she sat up in bed

“I mean,” you finally looked up at her, “He didn’t technically bar me from joining”  

“Look at you” she scoffed, “Making you just sit there and watch when you’re the best player like ever!”

“I am nowhere near the best, Cami.” 

“Well” she protested, “You’re the best player I know!”

“I’m the only player you know,” you laughed. 

“Not true!” she hopped off her bed, “Teach me.” She pulled out her desk chair and pulled it next to you.  You quirk an eyebrow at her, “Seriously! Teaching is great practice plus you keep me awake with this dreadful lamp anyway” 

You swipe all of the pieces from the board and begin to set them back up in their proper places, you set the black in place and invite Cami to mirror them with the white on the other side.  Starting off you teach her some simple and popular openings.  For as airy as she tends to be she is an attentive listener and is able to grasp the basics quickly.  

You feel like you could cry, no one has truly taken this much of an interest in you, besides your parents and some friends from high school.  When you first moved in with Cami you were worried she would join a sorority on campus and never be around, and while you like your alone time, being alone is a difficult task.  

“And how do you win?” Cami asked once the board was scarce with pieces.  

“You need a successful and all encompassing check,” you move your queen to trap her king sufficiently, “Like this one, check mate” you reach over and softly lay the king on the board. 

From your usual chair in the back of the room you strain to listen to the conversation happening between Wonwoo and the president, who you learned recently was named Jeonghan.  The discussion looked heated and Wonwoo was hesitating at the door frame like a child being scolded.  

Jeonghan threw his hands up, exasperated, and turned to make a beeline for you.  You fumbled about trying to get your notebook open and to a page to make it look like you weren’t just eavesdropping. 

“You heard all of that I’m assuming,” he asked gruffly, “You’re not as subtle as you would like to think.” 

“What?” you blinked up at him.  He bent down to get closer to your face, 

“Don’t play dumb, we both know you aren’t,” he nearly growled, “You were listening to that entire conversation” 

“I was trying to,” you admitted with a roll of your eyes, “I couldn’t hear a thing from over here,” He backs away from you and makes a subtle noise of approval.  

“You’re with Minghao today,” he said as he was turning to leave, which made you shoot up out of your chair.  

“I actually get to play?” You blurted out, which caused him to turn back to you, 

“Yeah,” he scoffed at your enthusiasm, “Uneven numbers, Minghao needs a partner, Wonwoo had to go tutor our idiot friend Mingyu, I guess” You made a mental note to thank whoever Mingyu was profusely if you were to ever meet him.  Jeonghan took your silence as an invitation to leave this conversation,as if he had ever needed one before.  

You glanced around the room until you found Minghao’s eyes on you.  

“Hi,” You offered your hand for him to shake as you approached his table.  He easily took your hand and shook it.  

“Sit, sit” he insisted, “It’s an honor to be the first to play you, sorry it’s under weird circumstances,” he chuckles awkwardly.    

You told Minghao not to worry about the circumstances, you were just happy to be playing after weeks of sitting around watching.  With this he began the game, he utilized a simple opener and your first capture came quickly.  This wasn’t to say that Minghao wasn’t a good player and didn’t put up a fight.  

You, however, were hungry to show everyone here that you were not to be messed with. Minghao felt that you were two steps ahead of him the entire match, he didn’t understand how it felt like you were in his head and knew his moves.  If it wasn’t so impressive he would be infuriated. 

He didn’t even mind that you baited him quickly into a checkmate.  He wanted to see you beat Jeonghan, to wipe the winning streak clean.  Even more, he wanted to see Jeonghan get beat by a freshman, a wickedly smart and kind of scary freshman.    

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan asked from across the room where he was putting pieces back into boxes, “I need to clean that up and I can’t very well do that when you’re still using it”

“Minghao almost beat me” You mumbled, not looking up from the board.  You hear Jeonghan sigh and walk toward you.  

“Almosts don’t matter in chess, you either win or you don’t” he swiped your notebook from under your elbow, “And you won” 

“Give it back, Yoon, I’m not in the mood” you attempted to grab it back from him.  

“When are you ever,” he snorted, holding the book over his head. You shot out of your chair.

“Give it back!” you attempted to reach for it, “I’m trying to find weaknesses in my game and you’re acting like a child!” 

“Fine,” he lowered the book with a look in his eyes that let you know that this would not be that easy, “play me then” You blinked at him, 

“Really?” 

“You’re looking for weaknesses in your game, play me” he pulled out the chair recently vacated by Minghao and sat down, “Well? I don’t have all night." You took your seat, studying Jeonghan’s face.  He has never been across from you as your opponent, let alone offered a match. He passes your notebook back to you and watches as you carefully turn to a new page, crack the spine, and scrawl out his name and the date at the top of the page.  

You carefully move your first pawn, which in return Jeonghan moves his, beginning the dance.  Your second pawn takes its place and you hear your opponent chuckle.  

“What?” you spat defensively.  

“Oh nothing,” he hides his smile with his hand, “you’re just predictable, you always start with attempting a queen’s gambit”.  Heat rushes to your cheeks and you immediately know you are at a disadvantage, Jeonghan knows your game and you know nothing of his.  He delicately moves a second pawn forward, “Queen’s gambit declined” he sits back in his chair, thinking he already has you beat.  

The first capture of the match is in you taking his first pawn, he returns the favor by taking yours quickly.  The two of you go back and forth like this for several turns.  You realize quickly that he is very much your equal, he is smart and clever, but he plays rigidly and by the book.  By the book players are usually easy for you to handle.  

Jeonghan was different, it’s almost as if he knew your moves before you made them, and admittedly he kind of did.  Not well enough, you were nervous in the middle of the match but now you were sure that you could lure him into a checkmate within three moves. 

Letting him capture your rook was a small sacrifice.  Luring him into a false sense of security letting him take this piece and your queen earlier in the game, so that your second rook could move to take his queen and leaving his king open.  Attempting to move his king out of the line of fire from your rook only placed it in harm's way at the hands of your bishop.  

“Checkmate” you declared.  Jeonghan sat quietly, you saw the math he was doing in his mind by the way his eyes were flitting around the board, calculating his mistakes.  You gathered your things and swiped them into your arms and turned to leave.  

Fingers encircled your wrist and pulled you to face him.  Judging by the look on his face he did not think before he acted for once, “If it means so much to you, I won’t tell anyone I beat you,” you offered, rolling your eyes. 

“You’re infuriatingly irritating” was the last thing he said before pulling you closer and pressing his soft lips to yours. You stood perfectly still, shocked at the sudden development, Jeonghan didn’t push until you parted your lips.  With this he deepened the kiss, his mouth tasted of tobacco, the expensive kind.  His skin was warm against yours, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t entirely hate this exchange.  

Tentatively, you placed your hands on his hips, your notebook falling to the floor forgotten.  Jeonghan swiped his tongue into your mouth and you let him.  He felt your fingers grip for dear life and tried to ignore the fact that the gesture caused his head to swim.  He had the faintest idea of why he kissed you and even less of an idea on why you let him but he would not complain.  He tangled his hands in your hair.    

He pulled your lip between his teeth and it snapped something in you, you pressed your thighs together and sighed.  When Jeonghan moved to plant kisses just below your ear you realized what was happening and pushed back against his chest. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“You seemed to enjoy it.” he sighed pushing a hand through his hair.  

“I don’t know what this is,” you picked up your notebook, “but find someone else to help you out next time you get hard over a girl beating you”           

You shifted uncomfortably in the doorway of the fraternity house as Cami was informing the poor boy working the door who she was and who the two of you were intending to meet inside.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity out on the porch, he stepped aside and the two of you shuffled past him. The inside of the house was nothing special, it smelled of smoke and sweat.  There were groups of people scattered about talking and drinking.  

Cami put a hand on your arm and began to pull you further into the house, “Come on!” she shouted over the noise, “I’m meeting him in the kitchen!” and she began weaving her way through the house, as if she had done this a thousand times before.  

The kitchen was open and frankly dirty.  There was a couple making out against the counter closest to where your roommate dragged you.  

“Y/N, this is Mingyu, the guy I told you about,” she smiled up at him, “and this is Y/N, my roommate”  

“Nice to meet you,” Mingyu smiled at you momentarily before turning his attention back to the girl he actually invited to this party.  You were surprised, you figured it would have taken longer than five minutes for you to start wondering why you came here in the first place. You were starting to feel boxed in, the couple on the counter was getting dangerously close to exposing themselves to you, and Mingyu was whispering close to your roommate's ear.  You could only imagine the filthy things he was surely saying to her, judging by the scarlet blush rising up her neck and the giddy smile playing at her lips.  

“Take this,” a familiar voice cut through the panic, a small glass being pressed into your hand.  Looking up, Jeonghan had a matching glass up to his lips, looking down at you expectantly.  You followed suit and the two of you tipped the glasses back together.  The liquid burned your throat and you sputtered a cough as you felt the heat settle in your belly.  “Woah,” he stifled a laugh, “Never had a drink before, noted,” he filled up his shot glass with water from the sink and traded it for your empty glass.  He guided it to your lips and disappeared down the hall, just as quickly as he approached.

The water dulled the burn in your throat.  During your exchange with Jeonghan your roommate and Mingyu disappeared somewhere, sighing you left the kitchen to find them or somewhere quiet to sit down, whichever came first.  

As it turned out, at a party there are few places unoccupied by people.  You took to walking laps around the bottom floor of the house looking out for anyone leaving or a room you missed.  On lap one thousand (give or take) you heard your roommate’s laugh cut through the dull thrum of the music from the turntable in the living room.  You looked toward where you heard her, your shoulders slumped seeing Mingyu lead her up the stairs, cursing under your breath you stomped through the kitchen and into the first door you came across. 

 You plop to the ground and cross your arms over your chest, if anyone were to be looking at you right now you’re sure you would look like a petulant child.  You’re not even sure why you’re angry, you knew she would end up hooking up with this guy tonight. Walking home could be an option, however it’s getting cold…and do you even remember how to get back? Don’t parties like this typically have sober drivers? But I’m not drunk…I only had whatever Jeonghan gave me, you thought, Jeonghan! You could find him, but how embarrassing would it be to crawl to him for help right now? He would use it against you forever and you are as good as kicked out of the chess club after this! What would have been the point of any of this if you can’t play chess? This stupid situation with Jeonghan would have been for naught.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, you scramble to situate yourself in this damned skirt to have any semblance of appropriateness for whoever is coming through that door.  

“What are you doing in the laundry room?” you could hear the smirk in his tone before you even looked up.  Jeonghan slipped into the small room, which when looking around you realized it was in fact the laundry room.  He closed the door behind him with the hand not occupied with a bottle of liquor and a cigarette perched between his pointer and middle fingers.  Scooting back you pressed your back against the washing machine and stretched your legs straight in front of you.  Jeonghan grunted while sitting down on the floor next to you, his back up against the dryer.  He set down the bottle and two of those little glasses from earlier on the floor in front of him.  

“There was nowhere else to sit…” You offered quietly. “My stupid roommate went upstairs with some guy and she is the only reason I’m even at this fucking party! I wanted to stay home tonight, but she dragged me out here and–and are you trying to get me drunk?” you interrupted yourself, eyes flicking between the contents on the floor and Jeonghan.  He cracked a smile, not a smirk, a smile, at your question.  

“No, Dove,” he chuckled sticking the cigarette between his lips, “I’m trying to get you to loosen up for once,”  he brought his hand above your thigh, hesitating in the air for only a moment before placing it down slightly above your knee, kneading the flesh there.  Jeonghan had kissed you last week, but this felt…intimate, not angry. Before you had the chance to yell at him he brought his hand back to his lap, “You’re tense.” 

“Yeah, not a great night,” you pointed out, “And it seems like it is getting weird now,” he rolled his eyes at your addition and began pouring the liquid into the two glasses.  

“Take another shot with me, will you?” he attempted to hand you the glass, “before I decide you’ve annoyed me too much for one night” 

“No” 

“Y/N please, don’t be so insufferable for once,” he moved his glass to his lips and removed the cigarette, which admittedly was distracting enough for you to almost give in.  You held strong.  Jeonghan clicked his tongue disapprovingly and threw back the contents of the glass.  He brought his free hand and scrubbed his face, “Fine, let’s play a game.” he poured himself another shot. 

“What kind of game?”

“Really that’s all it took?” he looked at you, his eyes starting to shine with the alcohol, “Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.” he taps the glass with his fingers, a habit that manifests when he’s thinking, you’ve noticed throughout his chess matches, 

“You’re making a game up,” you point out nonchalantly, 

“What?” the drumming stops for a moment, “No, I’m remembering the rules”

“No you’re not, tell me about your made up game, Yoon”

“It’s a real game…anyway, rules are simple, you ask me a question, I answer, then you answer.  If you don’t want to answer, you take a shot, if we both answer, we both take a shot”

“Those rules don’t make sense” “Yes they do, who was the first LP you ever got?” you were taken aback by the tameness of his question, but you figured he was just getting started.  

“The Blues and the Abstract Truth by Oliver Nelson” 

“Jazz?” he scoffed, “Have you ever thought about not being boring?” 

“Have you ever thought about being a decent person?”

“Don’t get unglued,” he rolled his eyes, “mine was Nice’n’Easy by Frank Sinatra” With that he tipped his glass back and emptied it, you followed suit and tried not to cough this time. He gestured to you seemingly inviting you to ask a question of your own.  You thought for a moment, 

“Why do you play chess?” you asked. 

“My dad figured it would be a good skill to have” he shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the fact that the world chess champion was, and still is, a Soviet. I don’t really care about that though, I just like to play, I’m good at it.”

“You only play chess because you’re good at it?” you said flatly

“Ah ah” he tsked, “You already asked your question, so either answer or drink up”

“Fine,” you sighed with a pointed look in his direction, “My grandpa taught me, I always watched him and his buddy play when he babysat me.  I learned by watching and then eventually playing, and beating, both of them.” 

“Learning chess just by watching,” he mumbled and shook his head. “Gimme,” his lithe fingers took the glass from your hand, set it on the floor next to his and poured another round.  You both drank the shot with no complaint.  

The game continued like this for a while, Jeonghan never asking anything that stumped you, and in return he answered every question of yours. You weren’t sure what being drunk actually felt like but if someone told you this was it you would believe them.  Your muscles relaxed more than you can remember in recent months, your vision was slightly blurry, and you felt a pleasant buzz in your brain.  Jeonghan was slumped against the dryer and his head leaned on your shoulder.  

“When’s your birthday?” Jeonghan asked, playing with your fingers lightly.   

“January 2” 

“Coming up,” he noted, “Mine was October 4”

“How old are you now?” 

“22” he sighed, “graduating in May” You knew Jeonghan was older than you, but you hadn’t thought about the fact that he would be actually graduating, leaving.  Something about that made you sick to your stomach in a way, but you weren’t sure why, don’t you hate him?

“I’ll be 19 next month” you mumbled. He shifted his body to sit up and look at you.  His eyes were glassy and heavy, physical evidence of the alcohol thrumming in his system.  

“Are you drunk?” he asked 

“I have no earthly idea, Han” he smiled at the nickname. He reached over to cup your cheek in his hand, unconsciously you melted into him. 

“I might be,” he mumbled, and even in your intoxicated state you couldn’t miss the way his eyes flicked from yours to your lips, only for a moment.  After what felt like ages he connected his lips to yours.  The kiss was sweet, his lips were warm and he didn’t rush it.  He held you as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, requesting entrance.  Once that entrance was granted it was as if the floodgates opened for him.  Both of his hands were in your hair and he was licking into your mouth.  Jeonghan tasted of the alcohol the two of you had been drinking the entire night, different from the taste on his lips last time.  Jeonghan curiously tugged at the hair around his fingers.  

Butterflies, or something like that but infinitely more intense, erupted in your stomach.  The suddenness of it all allowed a whine to escape your lips. With that Jeonghan pulled back from you but stayed close enough for your noses to still be touching. 

“I think you should start coming to meetings early,” he panted. The only response you could muster was a nod, and an attempt to bring his lips back to yours.  He pulled back against your request, and much to your dismay the wicked smirk was back on his face, “Y/N, are you a virgin?”  You were taken aback by the question, you backed away from him and grabbed the bottle on the floor.  You forwent the shot glass and just took a long pull from the lip.  He watched you down the burning liquid before nodding, “So that’s a yes,” he settled back against the dryer and watched you flounder.  

“You don’t know that!” you stood up, feeling wobbly on your feet, “Maybe I’m just being a lady” 

“Woah,” he stood up and wrapped his arm around your waist in an attempt to steady you, “but it doesn’t really matter, I trapped you, even a nonanswer would have told me what I wanted to know, I won and you know it.”  You attempted to hit his chest but the way he was holding you proved it impossible. He maneuvered you to sit back down, “Sit right here, I’m gonna go find your roommate and get you home.”    

The walk back to your dorm was quicker than you thought it was, but that could be on account of the alcohol warming your skin.  Jeonghan informed you that your roommate had decided to stay the night with Mingyu back at the house so the responsibility of getting your drunk self home fell on him.  Serves him right, he’s the one who got you to this state in the first place. Your arm linked with his and his arm around your waist he walked the short trek very carefully, because he truly was not sober himself.

He fished your room key out of your pocket and let the two of you into your room.  He blinked to adjust to the lower light, the room was only illuminated by the lamp on your desk that you must have forgotten to turn out before leaving earlier in the night.  Moving further into the room he helped you sit down on the bed.  On the desk there was a chess board with a half finished game set up.  He smiled to himself moving closer to see that the pieces of paper strewn about were the notes you always take during matches with him.  You’re replaying matches between the two of you he realized.  

“Y/N” he called, tearing his eyes away from the pretty way your handwriting captures his name, “You gotta change.”

“Tired,” you grumbled from the bed. He moved towards you and attempted to pull you up.  

“Come on, you can’t sleep in this” he begged, “Fine! Where do you keep your pajamas?”

“Top drawer”

He moved the short distance to your dresser and opened the top drawer.  He flushed seeing your undergarments being housed in the same space as your pajamas but he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach.  He pulled out the first nightgown he found and moved back to you.  

“Okay, undress” he was met with protest noises.  He sighed and moved to the hem on your shirt, “I’m going to help you and then leave, okay?” he waited for your approval and then began lifting your shirt up over your head. He felt perverted in a way as he watched each inch of your skin come into view and then the clothed swell of your breasts.  The situation was in no way sexual and he had no plans to take advantage, but he had never seen you in a vulnerable state before.  You were softer than you often let on, something he almost didn’t believe.  

He removed the shirt completely and moved to unclasp your bra.  He hesitated only slightly before taking the plunge.  He removed the piece of fabric and quickly, and unceremoniously shoved the nightgown over your head.  Finally, you were dressed for bed and he helped you under the covers.  

Soon he heard your soft snores and took this as his signal to leave.  Turning out the lamp he pressed his lips to your forehead, hoping it didn’t hurt too terribly in the morning.  

“Goodnight, Y/N”      

The gentle sting of teeth against your neck paired with the vice grip on your thigh under your skirt almost sent you into a frenzy.    

“Jeonghan” you shied away from his mouth, he grunted and chased you in response, “Jeonghan!” you hissed and pulled his hair until his lips separated from your neck.

“What?” he whispered, his eyes heavy and clouded with lust. 

“The boys will be here in,” you twisted to check your watch, “Twenty minutes and I would rather not have them distracted by fresh hickies on my neck for the entire meeting.”

“And why not?” he attempted to connect to the spot below your ear again, “They might respect you more if they know you’re getting some” 

“They respect me just fine!” you shove against his shoulder, but there weren’t many places for him to go in the small closet.  His hand stayed gripped on your thigh.

“Okay, okay” he conceded, taking back his place crowding you against the wall behind you.  “You’re tense again” a squeeze to your thigh, “let me help” his hand slowly traveled higher, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

All you could do was nod.  

A flash of a smirk and he is wedging his thigh between your knees, “Keep ‘em spread” he commanded.  His hand continued up and up until - oh - his thumb pressed that delicious bundle of nerves, separated only by the thin cotton of your underwear.  He watches your face as you bite your lip, if he was a better man he wouldn’t be doing this in the supply closet, but the promise of seeing you unspool was too delicious.  He’ll make it up to you someday, he promises himself.         

He started with slow torturous circles, refusing to move the barrier. The touches are too feather light, you resist the urge to rut up against him in an attempt to increase the friction.  This didn’t stop the pathetic whine from escaping your lips.  “What was that?” Jeonghan teased, increasing the pressure on your clit.       

“Please…” you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Is this what you want?” he slid your underwear to the side and gathered your arousal on his fingers.  Nodding you felt him slip in a finger experimentally. You bucked your hips to meet him, “Eager” he commented nonchalantly.  The tightness in his pants reminded him that time was of the essence and he slipped in another finger.  

You bit your lip to keep quiet, no matter how much Jeonghan encouraged you to let him hear you.  His long fingers reached a spot inside you that you didn’t know existed with ease.  You rocked on his fingers, feeling a tightness in your stomach begin to gather.  

Jeonghan pulled aside the neck of your sweater to access a new swath of skin untouched by him until now.  He sucked a deep bruise just below your collarbone as you felt the snap in your stomach.  

The euphoria washed over you in waves and Jeonghan continued his ruminations until you came down from your high.  Once you were more lucid, you noticed the gaping neck of your sweater.  Your hand flew to where the top two buttons once were and gasped.  

“You ripped the buttons off my sweater, you ass”

“Right like I meant to!” he began to scan the cluttered floor for the buttons.  

“Well I don’t have the time to go back to change” you gritted your teeth, “This was my favorite sweater” you stormed out of the closet, leaving Jeonghan’s apology to die on his lips.  What you didn’t expect was Minghao sitting at the table closest to you, reading.  You clutched your sweater, careful to cover your new mark.  He tore his eyes away from his book and just looked at you, it felt like he was looking right through you.  

You open your mouth to explain yourself but the sound of Mark bursting through the door with Yunho stole the moment away from you.  Minghao gave a curt nod of understanding and snapped his book closed.  Jeonghan entered the room, clearly trying not to look flushed. You shot him a pointed look and proceeded to sit in front of an empty chess board. 

“Pair up,” he mumbled, “scrimmages today” and throws himself into the chair across from you.  “Take that look off your face, Dove” you blinked at him, not realizing there was even a look, you were just surprised he was willingly choosing you, in front of everyone.  However, if he was going to act like this, you could make the meeting Hell too. 

His timer clicked, he made his first move.  Jeonghan was going to lose this match, you stretched your legs, leaving your foot next to his.  You felt his eyes boring into your skull as you were making your opening.  Your timer clicked.  Jeonghan laced his fingers under his chin, it would look like he was thinking, but you knew better, he was trying to figure you out this time.  He reached to move his knight and you trailed your foot up his leg, disrupting his trousers. Placing his knight down with a definitive thunk he looked up at you with widened eyes.  

“Your timer, Jeonghan” you smirked. Click. Jeonghan watched your subsequent move, trying desperately to ignore the tightness in the crotch of his pants.  You played it safe for a majority of the game, letting Jeonghan believe that you were the one distracted by your nonsense.  You let him have some meaningless captures.  

His fingers weren’t drumming on the desk, he felt confident.  You captured his bishop.  You could easily have a checkmate within four or five moves.  You brought his bishop to your lips and hit your timer.  You looked at him from under your lashes and waited. 

Jeonghan watched the white piece rest against your pretty lips, what was wrong with him? You were doing next to nothing but the hardness in his pants was almost painful at this point.  His hesitancy was evident, 

“I know” you whispered against the bishop, “It’s just so hard” Jeonghan had to bite his lip to keep from whimpering.  He made a quick careless move and hit the timer. Smiling, you set the bishop aside and moved your queen into position, “Checkmate.” 

“What is wrong with you?”

The only sound in your room was the soft drag of the white bishop you moved across your chess board.  Cami was out, probably with Mingyu, as she is most nights nowadays.  The game you were playing against yourself was almost finished and you were planning to retire to bed or to do some reading afterwards.  Even you had your limit on the amount of chess you could play in a day.  

You picked up the black knight thinking to capture a white pawn when there was a knock at your door. Untangling yourself from the position that was comfortable until you thought about it you stretched your legs and padded to the door.  You don’t tend to get visitors unless Cami is home so you’re not sure who this could be.     

Swinging the door open you see the familiar shape of Jeonghan standing in the hallway, illuminated by the fluorescent lighting.  He was dressed more casually than you’d ever seen him, clad in an oversized t-shirt and pair of shorts with the faded logo of what you guessed was his high school hanging off his hips. You fold your arms over your chest, suddenly very aware of your lack of bra. 

“Are you stalking me now, Yoon?”  he blinked at you a couple times before pushing past you into your room and uttering, 

“Do you really not remember?” he sits at your desk in front of the almost finished chess game, “Can I sit here?” 

“You already are,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him on your bed.  Seeing Jeonghan comfortable and relaxed in the low light of your room was strange, but not entirely off putting.  Almost as if he belonged here in a way.  “Remember what?”

“I brought you home after Seungcheol’s party when Cami ditched you” he studied the remaining pieces on the board. Jeonghan doesn’t know when he started remembering things, like the name of your roommate, about you.  He didn’t mind having you in his head, but he wasn’t aware just how often you were on his mind until this moment, seeing you bathed in the lamp light of your room.       

“Wait,” your cheeks grew red and you felt the heat in them rise.  

“Yes, I changed your clothes, no I didn’t look, but at this point does it matter?” His brown eyes gazed up at you before they trailed down your body, he realized that this is the first time he has seen you in your casual attire since that night. 

“Maybe not…” You mumble, “But it certainly did at the time.”  He scoffed and rolled his eyes and settled them back on the chess board in front of him.  You watched as he moved the rook into position, 

“Checkmate” he smirked smugly, 

“I played that game myself, don’t think you’ve beaten me because you finished it.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at your comment and stood up from the chair and moved toward you. He stood in front of you and tapped your knee, you spread your legs so he could stand between them, you mentally cursed yourself for the automatic response.  Moving in between your knees he ran his hands through your hair, he looked down at you, his face softer than you’d seen it in a while.  His features were beautiful when he was concentrated and vengeful during a match but the soft moments between were quickly becoming your favorites. 

“Hi,” he whispered, he could almost laugh, he felt so boyish.  “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Han,” you laughed, “you don’t need an excuse to kiss me, if that’s what you’re looking for” 

“Okay Ms. Smarty Pants,” he ducked his head to press his lips to yours.  What felt like lightning crackled between your lips and into your stomach, he hadn’t touched you let alone kissed you since that day that you teased him at the meeting in front of everyone.  Partly because you stopped showing up early, and partly because he was clearly mad at you for the spectacle you caused.  He had never anticipated Wonwoo of all people to ask him what that was all about. 

A hand trailed from your hair down to your chest.  You whined as Jeonghan took a handful of your breast and kneaded it underneath his fingers.  He deepened the kiss at the sounds you were making. His teeth grazed your lip as he pinched your nipple between his fingers.  His other hand was gripping your bare thigh.  

He broke the kiss and grabbed the loose fabric of your nightgown and pulled it up around your hips.  Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties he mutters, 

“Can we try something?” All you could do was nod in response.  He swiftly shimmied the fabric down and onto the floor. “Let me know if it’s too much for you, okay?” 

Jeonghan sank to his knees in front of you, his mouth level with your bare cunt.  He takes his time sucking deep bruises into your thighs, he was only going to do it once but the sweet noises you made in response were too beautiful to ignore.  You felt the sting of teeth on the last bruise, and then the soothing sensation of his tongue.  In an attempt to get his long hair out of the way he raked his hand through it and leveled himself with your heat.  

He licked the first fat stripe up your cunt, the warmth of his mouth on you was a new and spectacular feeling.  He felt all encompassing, you were surrounded by him, and you couldn’t imagine anything better in this moment. He flattened his tongue against you and dragged it through your folds slowly.  Your eyes screwed shut at the overwhelming sensation. 

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began to suck.  Jeonghan felt absolutely high on the sounds he was eliciting from you.  Slowly, he moved from your clit to your entrance and experimentally dipped inside.  You filled the room with quiet moans as he began to pump his tongue in and out of you. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you bucked your hips up searching for stimulation on your clit.  Jeonghan pulled away from you and you shivered at the lack of warmth.  He blew lightly into your cunt, a whine getting pulled from your throat.  

“Just wait, Dove, I’ll take care of you.” He stood and helped you out of the nightgown the rest of the way.  You sat up slightly and reached for his shirt.  He looked beautiful with the flush of want on his cheeks and the sheen of you on his chin.  He smiled down at you and allowed you to peel off his shirt, “Lay down all the way” he whispered as he pulled off the rest of his clothes.  You readjusted on the bed.  He crawled on top of you, “Are you okay with this?” You nodded, you let your eyes wander down his body and caught a glimpse of his stiff cock, leaking and angry.  The tension in your thighs returned, nervous for this next step.  

“Hey,” he whispered, “look at me”, your eyes finding his, “Relax for me, Dove. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to”  

“I want to,” you whispered.  He smiled softly at you and pressed his lips to yours.  He reached down and stroked his cock a few times before lining up at your entrance.  You took a deep breath.  

“I’m serious this time, you need to relax,” his eyes were dark with lust but ultimately serious.  He reached to knead the muscle of your plush thigh. You nodded to show him you understood and tried to release some tension you were holding.  

You felt the head of his cock push past your entrance.  The feeling was entirely different to what you were used to with his fingers.  He moved slowly, scared to overwhelm you.  He stayed still for several agonizing minutes, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.  

“You can move now,” you breathed out quietly.  He nodded and slowly began to rock his hips.  It was almost as if you could feel every single vein dragging against your walls.  The feeling was nothing short of intoxicating, you felt so full.  

“Oh Dove,” his voice was deeper than you have ever heard it, “you feel so perfect, like you were made for me.” His praises went straight to your core and you couldn’t help but moan.  “If you keep,” he grunted, “sounding perfect like that I won’t last.” 

He doesn’t.  Neither do you.  He didn’t expect you to, you don’t last long on his fingers, his cock was a different story entirely.  What he didn’t expect was how fast he was spent.  He thinks he meant it when he said you were perfect, he fit inside of you just right.  Thinking about how perfect you were had him releasing hot white spurts of himself inside of you.  

He leaned forward to move the sweaty pieces of hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss to your temple.  

“You okay, Dove?” 

“I’m fab,” you breathed.  Jeonghan laughed and slowly pulled out of you.  He took a moment to look at your spent cunt, leaking with him.  

“Uh, let me get you cleaned up,” he stumbled out of the bed and moved toward your collection of bath towels.  He returned with one and helped clean you up.  He rummaged through your drawer, retrieved a clean set of underwear and sent you to the bathroom. He got himself dressed and sat on the bed.  He ran his hands through his hair.  

When you came back you laid back down together.  You draped your legs over his.  The two of you stayed this way for what felt like hours.  You talked about everything, he asked you about your classes, how you’re adjusting to being away from home, and your impressions of the guys in the chess club.  

Talking to Jeonghan was easy, much easier than your first impression had led you to believe.  Eventually, you fell asleep mid sentence.  Cute, Jeonghan thought.  He was starting to realize he found most of the things you did cute.  

He slipped out of your bed and covered you with the blanket.  Before he left he slipped your ruined sweater from where it was draped haphazardly over the foot of your bed.  With that, he was out of the room and bounding down the hall.    

               

   

 “Y/N! Wait up!” Turning around you see Minghao jogging to catch up with you.  You smile at him as he joins you, “Where you headed?” 

“The teaching building,” you jerked your head in the direction of the building.  

“Let me walk with you, I’m going to the art building, but I need to ask you about something.” he gestured for you to keep walking.  You nodded and began the walk, “So what on Earth are you doing?” 

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, “I’m going to class?” 

“No” he shook his head, “With Jeonghan” you had to force yourself to keep walking and not stop right there in the middle of the sidewalk and gawk at him, “Oh come on, Y/N I’m not stupid” 

“I never said you were,” you shifted your gaze to the ground, “But I have no idea what you’re talking  about”

“Yes you do” A telling silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes before you reached the front of the art building.  Minghao stopped walking and put a hand on your shoulder, “Listen it’s not my business, but whatever game you’re playing better have a good reason.” he sighed, “I don’t know if you actually like him or what this bullshit is, but be careful,”

“Careful?” 

“You’re a threat to him, Y/N” you must look as confused as you feel because he continues, “I’m good at chess, Wonwoo’s good at chess, Jeonghan is great at chess, but Y/N, you’re phenomenal at chess.” 

“So?” you protest, “It’s just a club, this doesn’t mean anything does it?” 

“The competition season is coming up,” he offered, “You’ll be asked to be on the team by the faculty supervisor, so will Jeonghan, and hopefully me and Wonwoo, but there’s the individual tournament to worry about.”     

“Okay?” you huff, “And?” you try to see the point Minghao is making.       

“Just…” he sighs, “I’m worried he’s using you.  He’s never lost the collegiate division, Y/N” you nodded, taking in what he was suggesting, “You’ve painted yourself as a threat to him winning that title for his last year. That’s why it matters, that’s what he cares about.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Well, yes,” Minghao blinked at you, “Doesn’t that put me in the exact position to know what he might be capable of?” 

“If I’m selected, I’ll try my best, win or lose” You assured him.  

“I know you will, just be careful, don’t get distracted” He turns toward the entrance of the art building, “And stop using the supply closet, you have more dignity than that” you feel your face heat up and you turn on your heel toward the teaching building.    

If anyone could see the great asshole, Jeonghan Yoon right now Mingyu could die happy.  He bounded down the stairs and took in the sight of the man himself with a sewing needle snug between his teeth, instead of the usual cigarette.  

“Oh you couldn’t be more keen on her, huh?” Mingyu plopped down on the couch next to the sweater Jeonghan had carefully spread over the cushion between himself and the younger man. 

“Shut your fucking trap, Kim,” Jeonghan mumbled around the needle.    

“She has you sewing,”  Mingyu stifled a laugh.  

“As if you have room to talk,” Jeonghan ripped the needle from his mouth, “Cami has you just about as tied up,”  Mingyu blinked at him, “Oh come on! You don’t need tutoring, let alone from Wonwoo, you’re not in any of the same classes.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”  Mingyu attempted to insist but avoiding Jeonghan’s eyes gave him away.  

“Obviously you do, Y/N was mad about not being able to play, so you and Cami decided to take matters of my club into your own hands,” he began to thread the needle.   

“You could’ve let her play,” Mingyu shrugged watching Jeonghan struggle to find the simplest way to put the thread through the hole.  

“She could’ve earned her spot like everyone else” he muttered, “Besides there’s nothing between her and I so there’s no need to compare”

“You made the comparison…” Mingyu pointed out, confused.  

“No I didn’t,” the thread made it through the hole in the needle.  Mingyu opened and closed his mouth, not sure what his friend was getting at.  Jeonghan claiming that there was nothing going on between you and him was almost laughable, but Mingyu knew better than to voice this, as he valued his life.  So instead he settled to watch Jeonghan skillfully sew the pearlescent buttons back on to your sweater.  

Mingyu also knew better than to ask what happened in the first place.  He knew that Jeonghan had his own way about things, and this was more than likely an apology of some kind.  If Mingyu Kim was a far stupider man he would point out the fact that Jeonghan never denied that this was your sweater.    

You could hear the other members of the chess club before you even saw the door to the meeting room, there was an excited buzz spilling out into the hallway. As you closed in on the room you saw a paper hanging up on the closed door.  

“1963 Collegiate Chess Championship: University of Michigan 

Yoon, Jeonghan

Xu, Minghao 

Jeon, Wonwoo

Y/L/N, Y/F/N

Congratulations and good luck!”

That’s your name, you’re on the team.  You thought Minghao was potentially exaggerating when he was predicting the team but he was right on the money.  Something akin to anxiety bubbled in your stomach, what if you lose? What if you win?

Walking into the room Minghao smiled at you, Wonwoo gave you a thumbs up, and Jeonghan was simply staring at you  He couldn’t deny that he was scared of your placement on the team, when it came for the individual matches you potentially have him beat, he needed to play his best set of games in his career.  

You took your usual seat at the table you share with Wonwoo and Minghao.  Jeonghan’s eyes bored into your skull as you set up your board.  Was Minghao right? Did he do all of this as a distraction? Were you really that big of a threat to him? You knew the answer, but that didn’t stop the seeds of doubt from sewing in your mind.

“Congrats teammate!” You heard the smile in Wonwoo’s voice before you saw it.  

“Congratulations, Y/N.” Minghao smiled at you as he took his seat next to Wonwoo, “A force to be reckoned with, as always.”  

“Thank you both,” you smiled, “congrats to you as well.” You stole a glance in Jeonghan’s direction, he was still staring.  He was quick, he saw your eyes, and knowing he got what he wanted he slowly licked his lips and turned back to the board he was setting up with Mark.  

Your blood boiled in your veins, Minghao had to have been right, he’s so cocky even with no wins against you under his belt.  He must have been banking on you losing your composure, now and at the competition, so you determined right then that you would not allow it.  You began to slam the white pawns into their places, earning you sideways glances from your tablemates.  

Wonwoo pulled the black pieces out and tried to match your pace, knowing that your patience has run out, for Jeonghan Yoon related reasons he’s sure. The meeting is spent by you beating the boys in a variety of ways and shooting angry glances at the back of Jeonghan’s head.  Jeonghan was stealing his own looks in your own direction under the guise of “keeping an eye on the games”.  A few times he catches you looking at him, he attempts to soften your face to no avail.

After watching Wonwoo deliver a final checkmate to Minghao, you shot out of your seat and attempted to flee the room as quickly as possible.  Unfortunately, Jeonghan had other plans.  He caught your arm and pulled you to face him.

“Congratulations,” he said softly after he made sure everyone was out of the room.  

“Likewise,” you bit, “is that all?” Jeonghan blinked at you, clearly confused.  

“What’s wrong?” He asked earnestly, “Aren’t you excited?” You couldn’t tell if he was truly confused or if he was acting again.  

“I am,” you nodded, “what do you need? Or can I go home?”  

“Right,” his lips pressed into a tight line, clearly no longer in the mood for whatever you decided you were mad about.  He pulled his messenger bag to his front and pulled out a bunch of fabric.  “I fixed this for you,” he held it out in front of him.  You took it gingerly and unfolded it so you could look at what it actually was.  The sweater he ruined a few weeks ago.  A swooping feeling in your stomach took hold, something between tenderness and anger.  You chose anger.  

“Oh so you’re stealing from me now?” You snapped.  

“What?” He hissed, “I fixed it for you!” He pointed at the top two buttons he carefully sewed back on.  He looked like a petulant child if you weren’t seething you could laugh.  

“You still stole from me!” 

“Y/N you’re missing the point on purpose!” He whined at you, “I wanted to fix my mistake!” 

“By making another mistake.” You turned and walked out the door and all Jeonghan could do was stare after you.  For once he was at a loss for words.        

You’re in over your head, you have to be.  You have never felt so unprepared for a set of matches in your life.  The day was going to be full, only breaking for lunch and then your schedule thinning out God willing that you get to participate until the finals.  

You smoothed your hands over the new outfit you scrounged up money to buy for the occassion. The blouse is pretty, but the main focus is the new trousers.  You have never worn pants to a big event before, and you’re nervous for the reactions of the men downstairs.  Determined to exude confidence even when you were scared out of your mind you took deep breaths and practiced looking tough in the mirror.  You could not, however, forget how out of place you felt at this moment.  

You check your watch and mutter a curse under your breath.  Snatching your notebook off the hotel bed you tossed and turned in the entire night you bounded out the door. Once downstairs you snaked through throngs of people, picking up bits and pieces of conversations about chess strategy.  

You spotted Wonwoo’s head above various members of the crowd and made your way to him and where you assumed Minghao, Jeonghan, and your faculty advisor were as well.  Your fingers wrapped around Minghao’s arm and he turned to you quickly. 

His eyes lit up seeing it was you, “Y/N, hi” he smiled down at you.  

“Hi Hao,” you wiggled through the last of the crowd and up next to him, “did I miss anything?” you look around at the people, trying to spot Jeonghan.

“No, we’re just waiting for table assignments,” he pointed toward the window, “he’s over there.”  You followed his gesture and saw Jeonghan talking with the faculty advisor.  He looked almost ethereal silhouetted against the window, cigarette delicately perched in between his fingers.  You watched them talk for several minutes before you saw an official post a list on the wall opposite you.  Jeonghan noticed as well, extinguished his cigarette, and excused himself to look at his table assignment.  

The competitors funnelled into a line to check where they will be starting the day.  You shuffled in behind Minghao, Jeonghan tucked in behind you.  He was trying his best to ignore the new outfit and how good you happened to look in it as the line slowly moved.  Minghao quickly found his name and moved out of the way for you to scan the document.  You felt Jeonghan pressing against you slightly, clearly impatient and looking over your head.  His hand hovered awkwardly over your hip, he ached to touch you even just casually.  

Locating your name and your table you exited the line, leaving Jeonghan’s hand hanging in the air before he dropped it.  He followed after you silently.  Several other competitors were whispering about your outfit, he could hear them plainly even if you couldn’t.  

The thing about Jeonghan Yoon was that his reputation proceeded him.  Every person in this building knew who he was and what he came here to do today.  This type of reputation comes with a healthy respect and a bit of fear. So the dagger-like glances he shot these stupid men were not to be questioned.  To their knowledge it was because you were his teammate, none of them were aware of the affection he held for you.  

You broke away from your team in order to find the first table, your opponent already sitting on white’s side.  Holding your hand out for him to shake you could tell he was cocky, he rose to take your hand.  His handshake was firm, an obvious attempt to scare you.  Only you weren’t scared anymore, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.  The environment was different but the game was the same, and you were one of the best.  

The officials signaled for the beginning of the round and you watched as your opponent contemplated his first move.  He selected a safe opener; for the first round and knowing nothing about your opponent this was a respectable choice.  You tend to play it safe as well, opting for your classic attempt at a queen’s gambit.  The match went uneventful for the first several moves, the only sound in the room was several timers clicking at different times.  Some players were faster than others, and you were attempting to take your time and not get cocky.  

The same could not be said about Jeonghan across the room.  He was the epitome of confidence, as he has been every year since he won the first time.  Freshly 19 and on top of the world.  He always felt like the first win was some unbelievable stroke of luck and then he just continued to win.  He realized quickly that he enjoyed winning, almost more than he liked playing the game itself.  Maybe that makes him cocky, but he didn’t care.  He was making quick work of his first opponent, he was confident and playing defensively.  He clicked his timer and watched the man on the other side of the table panic under his gaze. 

Jeonghan watched as the man moved his rook across the board.  He leaned forward, seeing now that the opponent’s king was unprotected.  Jeonghan moved his knight.  

“Checkmate.” 

Your timer clicked as you gently pressed the button.  The man across from you looked perplexed as the board was dominated by your pieces.  He figured that this would be an easy win for him, figuring that your university stacked the team so that Jeonghan would have an easier time winning.  He was wrong, and everyone else in the room would soon find out if he didn’t find a way to save his own ass and soon.  He moved his bishop across to prevent you from queening your pawn on your next turn.  His timer clicked.  No matter, that bishop was the last piece protecting his king from your rook.  

“Checkmate.” 

Your name was on everyone’s lips as you moved to your next table.  It was almost annoying, all you did was win one game against someone who needed a lot of practice in your opinion.  They could start whispering when you were at least in the semifinals.  If that first game was any indication on how the rest of the day would go it would be easy to get there.  You knew Jeonghan was faring well, because once people were done talking about you they were talking about him.  

You took your place on the white side of this board as you were at the table far before your next opponent.  Jeonghan watched you from his side of the room, smiling to himself that you won your first match.  He slipped a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter to the end.  He dragged on his cigarette as he watched his next opponent take his seat.  

Jeonghan lost track of you at some point over the next several hours, as the matches became a bit more difficult he felt the need to focus.  While he wanted more than anything to know how the rest of the team was faring, he had to win.  This was his last chance, what no one knew was that he was declining the faculty advisor’s offer to continue his career after graduation.  He was getting his degree for a reason, and for him the reason was to move on from this part of his life.  So finishing with four consecutive collegiate championships under his belt would be great. Only problem here was, unfortunately, you.  

You beat Minghao again right before lunch.  Things were going incredibly well, much to your surprise.  Minghao shook your hand, his smile almost cracking his face.  The two of you walked toward the conference room where the complimentary lunch was set up.  Jeonghan and Wonwoo were already seated at a table in the corner. 

“The sophomore from Clempson” Wonwoo mumbled as Minghao and yourself joined them at the table.  

“What about him?” You asked as you reached for the water in the middle of the table.  

“Beat me in round four,” Wonwoo sighed, pushing his food around his plate.  

“Oh so you’re both out?” You looked between Minghao and Wonwoo, “What about you?” You asked, turning to Jeonghan. Jeonghan shook his head,

“I’m still in,” he turned to Minghao then, “Who got you?” In response, Minghao smirked and pointed a finger at you.  Jeonghan’s eyes followed in the direction he was pointing.  He tried not to smile and pushed away from the table. You don’t miss the roll of Minghao’s eyes as he watches Jeonghan walk out of the conference room.  

“I’ve heard about you,” your first opponent after the lunch break spoke over confidently as he sat down across from you.  “A girl at this competition is asinine.” 

“Well, I made it just as far as you so far,” you opened your notebook, “and I have heard nothing about you so might as well get this over with.”  You brought your eyes up to his, refusing to back down.  The man across from you scoffed at your bold reply.  

“God are all of you people from U of M like this?” He rolled his eyes, “A bitch and a bastard, you and Jeonghan.”  You could punch him, him and his smug face.  You bit your tongue to avoid getting yourself in trouble, if you didn’t beat him, Jeonghan certainly would.  

The match was quick, he was careless and sloppy, letting the delusion of confidence brought on by sexism carry him to a loss.  You thrusted out your hand for him to shake.  

“Thanks for the practice,” you smiled, glancing down at your hand.  He walked away without taking it.  You let your hand drop to your side, trying and failing to hide the fact that you were upset by his words.  

“This is my next table,” you heard Jeonghan’s unusually timid voice at your side.  

“Oh,” you shuffled to the side, “I’m sorry.” 

“What’s wrong?” He blinked at you, “Did you lose?” 

“No, obviously not,” you looked toward him.  

“Okay,” he chuckled, “then what happened?”

“He called me a bitch, and you a bastard.” You mumbled.  

“He called you what?” Jeonghan’s eyes wildly searched the room.        

“A bitch, but he also called you a bastard.” You reminded him.  

“Yeah, yeah,” he gestured vaguely, “that’s not the point.” 

“Drop it, no big deal, I knew this would happen,” you shook your head, “it always does.” With that, Jeonghan watched you walk toward another table. He sighed and sank down into the chair that you just vacated.  

Jeonghan was distracted for the rest of his matches, did he make you feel that way? He was sure he did, that first meeting you attended.  The difference was that he seemed to light a fire with his comment, whereas this asshole dampened your spirits.  Jeonghan could rip his face off, your confidence was one of the best parts of you.  

He sighed, moving his bishop across from his opponent’s king.  

“Check.” 

The man moved his king one space to the left.  This allowed Jeonghan to move his rook to trap the king.  

“Checkmate.” He muttered, raising from his seat, ignoring the other man’s outstretched hand.  He misses being challenged, namely by you, but he won’t admit that to himself just yet.  He wandered toward the front of the room, trying to waste time before his next table opened.  He caught sight of your concentrated face.  He leaned against the wall across from your table and watched the end of your match.  

You won, of course you won.  

“So your semi finals match against Ms. Y/L/N will start in 20 minutes at the table towards the front.” An official interrupted his thoughts.  

“What?” He tore his eyes away from you.  “Semi finals is this round?” 

“Yes, you and Ms. Y/L/N will begin in about 20 minutes,” he repeated gesturing to the table.  Jeonghan didn’t stick around to chat.  

“Y/N,” he snaked through people, “Y/N!” He caught your arm, and placed his hands on your shoulders.  He was smiling.  

“Jeonghan,” you nodded trying to ignore the feeling of electricity coursing through you.  

“We’re paired for the semi finals” 

“I am aware,” you smirked.  Your last match had given you the confidence to let your smug attitude reemerge.  

“Dove, please, nothing funny, just a straight up and down match,” he searched your eyes.  

“Oh, Jeonghan, this is too important.”

“Thank you, I agree,” he exhaled.  

“I need you to lose all on your own, not because I turn you on” 

You watched Jeonghan fiddle nervously with his fingers from across the table.  He was trying, and failing, to keep cool.  On the other hand, you kept eerily calm, you always prided yourself on your ability to seem unaffected by the situation at hand.  The breakdown earlier was a mistake you made in front of Jeonghan, one you wouldn’t be making again now.  

Once you were given the go ahead you began your opener.  Jeonghan felt his stomach drop watching your first several moves, you ditched the queen’s gambit, you weren’t playing safe.  He had no idea how to handle this.  You watched his fingers falter just slightly, you knew he was freaking out.  He might know your game well, but you knew him.  He was absolutely out of his depth.  

The two of you were well matched, eliminated participants gathered around your table.  People who didn’t know your name before today were watching in awe as you made moves that stunned even the man who’s name was on everyone’s lips before he even entered the building that morning.  

He knew you could play circles around him, that wasn’t the question anymore, he knew you were better than him.  That fact made him furious, and he had to figure out a way to beat you, and quickly because you pressed the button on your timer after claiming his second rook. His fingers twitched and he resisted the urge to make an uncalculated move. He could get a check right now, but he knows it’s flimsy and you could get out of it easily.  He settles for capturing your first bishop.  You always liked to use your bishop.

You calculated possibilities in your head, and then you saw it.  You dragged your queen to the center of the board, leaving Jeonghan no choice.  

“Checkmate,” you whispered, you weren’t sure if anyone but him heard you.  The moment seemed to freeze, you didn’t dare breathe, just in case Jeonghan shattered in front of you.  After what felt like an eternity he dragged his eyes from the queen to your wild eyes.   

He rose to his feet and walked out of the room wordlessly.  The crowd was silent as you watched him go.  Jeonghan Yoon, the reigning champion, was just defeated by a freshman, on his own team.  No one knew what to say.  You didn’t know what to say, in all honesty. You just sat there, watching the door, willing him to come back, but he never did.  

Minghao broke through the crowd and grabbed your shoulders.  

“You did it,” he breathed, “Come on.” He pulled you out of your chair. He congratulated you profusely as he held your hand and dragged you back to your room upstairs.  “Rest, recuperate, finals begin in a few hours.”

“Make sure he’s okay, Hao,” was all you could muster before closing the door and flopping yourself onto the bed.   

“Stop pacing, you're going to wear a rabbit trail into the floor,” Minghao muttered watching you continue your ruminations back and forth.  

“What if I lose?” 

“Then you lose, that doesn’t take away the fact that you made it this far, beating the reigning champion to do it.” He sighs.  You nodded, still not sure if you were okay with coming this far and losing.  Minghao watched your opponent approach finally and wrapped you into a hug, “Good luck,” he whispered into your hair before letting you go and taking his place in the crowd next to Wonwoo.  Jeonghan was still strikingly missing.   

You shook your opponent’s hand and took your seat.  The match started quickly, and rather unceremoniously.  It almost put your nerves at ease that there was no fanfare, just a straight up and down game just as you had been playing all day.  

The match quickly sucked you in, it was as if the rest of the room melted away.  The man across from you was good, almost as good as Jeonghan.  He was lucky that Jeonghan was paired with you in the semi finals, because you would have a different opponent right now if that weren’t the case.  However, this would end up working in your favor, you’ve never lost to Jeonghan, so why would you lose to someone worse?  

When you captured both of his knights he knew it was over, he didn’t let it show, but he knew.  He knew that you had dissected his game as you were playing him, which was the smartest strategy a player could use.  If you were smart enough to watch, learn and adjust as you were playing, you knew exactly what you were doing.  

He was almost honored when he heard you squeak, 

“Checkmate.” He held out his hand and you took it.  

“See you next year, Y/N” he smiled.  “Don’t expect it to be an easy rematch.” 

“I would never assume anything would be easy,” you smiled back at him, “thanks for the game.”  You turned back to the crowd for the first time since the match began.  Immediately you zeroed in on someone that wasn’t there when it started.  He was smiling widely.  The officials prevented you from leaving your table.  They spoke to you but none of it registered with you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jeonghan.  

“Smile,” he mouthed to you.  Camera flashes explained what he meant quickly, and you turned to smile at them while the officials were talking with reporters.  Eventually, everything settled down and you were able to find Jeonghan leaning against a wall near the window.  He once again had a cigarette lazily perched in his fingers.  

“You came,” you called to him as you approached.  His eyes lit up as he saw you and he reached out to smush the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.  

“Of course I did,” he wrapped his arms around you, “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Girls not only can play chess, but they absolutely should, they’re smarter than all of us anyway.” You couldn’t help but laugh, the most freeing feeling after the insane day you had.  

“Finally, you see it!” 

“Oh shut up, we both know I’m stupid,” you didn’t even have time to agree before he was tilting your head up to give himself access to you.  He pressed his lips to yours, a continuation of the apology, showing everyone in the room how proud he was of you and not caring at all who sees anymore.  

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Making Me Crazy

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, the tiniest amount of fluff, just pure, raw smut (fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, overstimulation, thigh riding)

Title from Cola by Lana Del Ray.

Summary/Warnings: Request from @little-wicked10! Ben overhears you doubting his generosity in bed, and immediately sets out to prove you wrong.

Author's Note: Top ten horniest things I've ever written. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.5k

Supes should be required to announce their presence whenever they walk within earshot of other people. If they were, you wouldn’t have snapped at Butcher that, for the last time, you were not sleeping with Ben. You wouldn’t have scowled and hissed that maybe you made come fuck me raw eyes at him, and maybe you liked him as more than a semi-reformed—you’ll call it about 70%, which was a passing grade—supe teammate, but you weren’t going to fuck him, because he was probably selfish in bed, and your lack of self-worth did not extend to falling to your knees only to get nothing in return.

But Ben hadn’t shouted a warning that he could hear you, and now you were gaping at him—standing at the foot of your bed with a cocky smirk—and trying to find a way out of this. Figure out whatever lie you could tell him that would make him just shrug off what he’d heard and walk away.

You weren’t really confident you’d find one. 

“We’ve, ah, we’ve been over this, Ben. I’m not having sex with you-“

“Not now.” He waves you off with firm words that shouldn’t be settling that deep in your core. “But you will.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re awfully confident given I just said no-“

“But you’re going to say yes,” Ben drawls your name, lowering himself down to hold your gaze. “Because I am not a fucking pussy who can’t get a woman off. And I’m going to get you off, over and over until you’re fucking screaming for more, until you’re so fucking cockdrunk you only know my name.”

“Ben-“

He smirks. “Good, you’re already starting-“

“Shut up.” You snap, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’m not fucking you just because you say you’ll get me off, or so you can proved some sort of point-“

“I don’t have fucking shit to prove.” He shrugs. “And I would get you off, baby. Christ, I’m doing you a damn favor-“

That makes you laugh. “It is not a favor to have sex with me. I could go downstairs, flash my tits at Butcher, and even his ass would jump on me-“

“Butcher couldn’t handle you.” Ben snaps, and you’re suddenly very away of how he’s towering over you, how he’s broad and muscular, how big his hands are, how soft his hair looks, how there’s a bulge in his pants that has to be padded to look bigger-

You swallow, forcing your eyes to his focused, darkened, almost dizzyingly lustful ones. “Ben-“

“I could handle you.” He smirks at you, leaning down until his nose bumps yours, and you can smell his cologne and the whiskey on his breath and something heavier that’s musky and heady and might just be him. “I could fucking ruin you, doll. Make you never want another cock again.”

“Oh.” He must have slipped you something earlier, or there must be a gas leak, because there’s no other explanation for why you nod, lean forward a little further, a little cautiously, and whisper an agreement against his lips. “Okay.”

Then Ben crashes into you, tangling broad fingers in your hair and kissing you with a bruising force that makes your head spin, and you know exactly why you agreed. For this. For Ben, and a chance to taste if he was really that good.

And goddamn him, he was. He was better than good. He was a demanding tongue down your throat and firm hands pulling and rubbing at this skin of your hips and waist. He was a massive, warm body lowering over yours and forcing you to crawl backwards on the mattress. 

He was a fucking sex god, and you feel like you’d just committed the worst sin of all. You’d doubted him. And—as his knee shoves between your thighs and you start to see spots when his kiss only deepens—you know you’re about to repent. 

And when Ben rips off your shirt and bra in one brutal movement, kisses a sloppy line over your jaw, down your neck, and right to your breasts—kneading with one hand as he pulls your nipple into his mouth—you decide that whatever he demands, you’ll offer. This is already mind-numbing pleasure, and if the only relief he’s offered you is grinding against him and his mouth swallowing every whining moan, you’ll take it.

Then he moves his leg away, chuckles at your needy sound from the loss, and you know he’s onto you. That he’s got you bent to his will. 

“Don’t lose your mind yet,” he mutters against your skin, nipping at your breast. “We’ve got a damn long way to go before you can afford that.”

“I’m not, fuck-“

You cut yourself off with a gasp as Ben tears off your pants, teases two fingers over the wet spot on your panties, and shoves them aside to expose your bare pussy to the air. 

“You’re fucking wet, doll.” He rises back to your face, kissing and sucking all over your face but your lips, where you’re gaping and gasping his name. “All of this for me?”

“It’s- Ben-“

Your voice turns to a squeak as he spanks your cunt once, running three fingers over your folds as the sting fades to pleasure.

“And don’t fucking think about lying.” He hisses in your ear. “I’ll know.”

You swallow, your voice soft and hoarse. “It’s for you.”

“You think I’m fucking hot?” Ben shoves one finger into your pussy, grunting as you squeeze around him. “Fuck, baby, you want me to make you feel good? Want me to prove to you how fucking wrong you were?”

“God, yes.” You squeeze your eyes shut, arching your back as Ben adds a second finger and begins to pump. “Ben, fuck me, please-“

“Tell me what you want, doll.” He picks up his pace, scissoring and crooking his fingers deep inside you until you’re writhing below him. “Say it, say you want my cock-“

Ben rubs right against that spongey place inside you, dangling over the edge of what you need—what you might die without—and you moan. “Fuck, I want your cock, Ben, I want it so bad-“

“Good girl.” He mutters against your skin, his teeth grazing right at a sensitive spot behind your ear. “But you’re still going to need to fucking earn it.”

You have a brief moment of lucidity where you realize what he’s said, and your eyes fly open. “What the fuck do you mean, I have to- Ben!”

He starts to fingerfuck you at a rapid, almost frantic speed that’s made of lewd sounds, desperate, breathy pleas escaping your lips, and a quickly growing bomb of fire in your gut that’s set to burst so soon-

“Cum of my fingers, doll, fucking soak my hand-“

You scream as the bomb goes off, and you’re overwhelmed with your orgasm. It floods your body and launches you into space, higher, higher, and when you fall easily back down to earth you realize Ben hasn’t stopped. His pace has increased to furious, and you’re already on the edge again. You’d be embarrassed by how quickly you came apart for him—how wrong you were—if Ben was slowing down.

But he’s not. He’s dragging you closer and closer to vaulting back into blinding release, and it’s right on the edge of pain and pleasure. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and God, you just want him to fuck you-

“Ben,” you gasp, grabbing pointlessly at his wrist. “Fuck, I need you, need you so bad-“

He pulls your lower lip between his teeth, his fingers bending and pressing right against that spongy spot inside of you, and this orgasm is only more powerful. You can barely hear his low, growled promise right in your ear.

“Fucking earn it.”

When you regain your head, your pussy is clenching and fluttering against nothing and strong hands are gripping your waist, maneuvering you with no effort at all. And when your vision returns from a hazy blur, Ben’s below you. Holding you on his lap, your legs tight around his thigh.

You stare at him with wide eyes, and he chuckles, rolling your hips with a firm grip as he starts to bite and suck along your collarbone.

“Fuck yourself on my thigh, baby.” He growls, licking right up your throat like a fucking animal, drawing a high whimper from your lips. “Make yourself cum like the dirty little cockslut you are-“

You start to grind on him like he’s flipped a switch in your body. You’re overwhelmed with orgasms, and your cunt is sensitive and raw, but fuck that’s nothing compared to the sheer want for Ben in your body.

So you throw your all into it. Soaking his jeans with your needy cunt, grabbing at his shirt until he tears it off for you to scratch uselessly at his chest. Fuck, you even put on a show for him. Wiggling and rolling your body in his hold, watching him through lidded eyes, diving to kiss at his neck and drifting a hand down to touch that huge cock, straining in his pants-

“Fuck-“ Ben yanks your hand away, his voice stern and low, and you whine. “I’m not fucking done with you, doll, you need to fucking control yourself-“

You just moan, tugging at his hair in a silent please, and his face falls into one that might be—if you didn’t know better—awe.

“Christ,” he mutters your name, running a rough hand up your back to grip at your throat. “You need to my permission to cum, babydoll?”

Babydoll. That does things to you that you’re past trying to hide.

You’re past trying to hide most everything.

You nod, making a choked plea that’s meant to be Ben, but comes out high and feral, and Ben smirks, gripping your hips until you’re sure he’ll leave a mark.

But his words are low on your skin, and his dick is pressed right on your clit, and God, you hope he marks you. Maybe then you’ll feel like this forever.

“Cum,” Ben growls your name in your ear, and there it is. You scream as you reach another, higher state of euphoria, and you’re so close to just exploding when Ben hauls you up his chest and tosses you down onto your back, rising onto his knees and lowering his face between your thighs.

You don’t get warning when he shoves his face right into your cunt and starts to eat you out like he’s never eaten anything before. Like you’re the sweetest fruit or candy, or saltiest and most carefully crafted meal, or just straight fucking heroin into his bloodstream. He goes down on your with his whole fucking face, pulling your raw, swollen clit between his lips before flicking it with his tongue until you’re a whining frenzy, keeping your thighs split open with his hands and barely flinching as you start to buck and fly off the bed, the orgasms falling through you like rain. One hand even sneaks between your legs, and Ben focuses his sinful mouth on your over-attended clit as his fingers plunge back into your cunt, and you destroy yourself on his everything.

You must have squirted somewhere in there, because when Ben finally rises up his beard is shining with your arousal. 

But it might also just be that. This might just be so fucking good, Ben might be so good, that you could flood a desert with how much you need him inside you right now. Really, properly inside you-

Ben must read your mind, because he smirks at you, prowls over your loose and fucked-out body, and drags you into a long, slow, shockingly soft kiss that makes you sigh into his throat, his hand rubbing a comfortingly patten on your waist.

“You’re being such a good girl,” He says your name against your lips, and you think that alone sends another small, shuddering orgasm through your body. “Good girls deserve some cock.”

You make the most needy, lustful noise you’ve ever made in your life, gasp slightly as Ben rises over your body, and scream when his cock slams into your dripping, aching cunt without warning.

“God-“

“I’m not God, babydoll.” Ben’s words are spoken against your lips with a smug satisfaction, and you almost blackout as he rolls his hips. “I’m fucking better. Hold on.”

You obey blindly—spun out and faded on how he’s splitting you open, filling you up more than you’ve ever been filled—and wrap your arms around his neck as he starts to fuck you. 

This is heaven. God, you hate how right he was, but you might be ascending. You were already ruined from his hands and mouth, and this is being razed. Fucking decimated. This is Ben’s cock hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t know existed, and his hands grabbing and pulling at your tits, his balls slapping against your skin and his mouth leaving little marks wherever he can reach skin, his fucking fingers rolling your nipples and his thumb rubbing on your raw clit until your mouth falls open, and you cum without sound.

He doesn’t stop. You’re drooling, making high, gasping moans of his name, and completely wrecked under him, but Ben doesn’t slow down. He’s grunting and groaning in your ear, chasing his own release deep into your pussy, and you want him to have it.

He’s really fucking earned it. Especially as his thrusts start to stutter and the bed starts to shake in a way that makes you think it might break, and the low, primal noises that leave him as he comes inside you drag one last, smaller orgasm from deep in your core.

He’s going to brag. When Ben pulls out, you’re sure he’s about to mock and taunt you about being right, but he just sets you down carefully between the sheets, walks into the bathroom, and returns with a damp, warm cloth to clean up the mess he left between your thighs. 

Then he looks up at you, and now he’s going to grow cruel. To keep dirty talking or fucking you until you’re in a daze you don’t know how to return from, when you just want to rest. Or maybe he’ll just leave you to deal with the soreness of your pussy and throbbing on your skin from all his biting and sucking, and you’ll never speak of this again.

But he doesn’t do either of those things. Ben’s eyes meet yours, still guarded but not hardened, where you can see deeper into him, and he’s a little more human in there. Like you’d worshipped and repented, and now you get your true reward.

And this is it. Green eyes meet yours, he blinks at you with a frown—like he doesn’t understand what he’s looking at—and then crawls back over you. Ben settles at your side, and your body against his own warm, solid, one. He doesn’t speak, but he touches you carefully, like you might break, and it’s louder.

And you might have had a few other things about him wrong as well.

Because Ben doesn’t move through the night, and you wake up still in his arms.

End Note: Found a way to make it emotional too. Am I even me if I don't?

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[munsonsmixtapes]

Do Me a Favor?

Find part two here!

Eddie x fem!shy!bestie!reader

Summary: you buy some weed from your best friend Eddie and after shotgunning from him, you both find yourselves wanting more

word count: 6k

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, oral (f receiving)

The cold air nipped at your skin as you knocked on the trailer door. You tightened your cardigan around you as waited for someone to answer, wondering what the hell you had been doing there. You didn’t smoke weed. You didn’t buy it either, but maybe you just wanted to see the cute metalhead who was supposedly the best dealer in town, even though he was one of your closest friends and let you come over whenever you wanted.

You had been friends with Eddie Munson since that one time he helped you pick the books that you had dropped when someone had bumped into you in the hallway in the tenth grade. He had grabbed your copy of Lord of the Rings and the two of you yapped about it all the way to the cafeteria where he let you sit with his group.

After letting you sit with him every day, he eventually asked you to join Hellfire Club and you happily agreed. Not long after, the two of you found yourselves hanging out outside of the club, occasionally getting dinner or watching a movie at your house.

Over time, you started to develop romantic feelings because how could you not have? Eddie was just so sweet and caring and he looked out for you like no one else did. And maybe it was silly to crush on your best friend, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from his charming personality, he also happened to be very easy on the eyes.

The door opened, pulling you out of your thoughts and there Eddie was on the other side, looking like something out of your dreams in his cropped band t-shirt and sweatpants that he had rolled down a few times, giving you a great view of the patch of hair that was right under his belly button.

“Y/n?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting you, but couldn’t help but feel intrigued to know why you were there.

“Hi, Eddie,” you nodded at him, not quite able to look him in the eye. You had hyped yourself up on the way there, but now that he was actually standing in front of you, you were feeling shy.

“What are you doing here?” He scratched the back of his head, causing his shirt to ride up even more and your mind suddenly went blank. “Thought you had to work.”

“I just got off and I um-I was wondering if I could buy some weed from you.” Eddie laughed at that. He always saw you as an innocent little thing who did everything she was supposed to. A goody-two-shoes that never broke the rules.

“Well,” he let out a chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Though, he kind of liked the idea of selling weed to you. Not only was it a funny thought, imagining you actually smoking the stuff, but it seemed like you were on edge every time he saw you and he thought you could use something to calm you down.

“We’re not in high school anymore. I’ve changed.” There was a little truth to your statement, but not much. The only thing that had changed about you since high school was that maybe you had a little more confidence and that you had finally gotten your braces off. Other than that, you were pretty much the same.

“So you have,” he nodded. “Well, why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you what I’ve got?” He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, letting it slam behind you. You looked around the place, loving how cozy it felt, especially since you were no longer in the cold weather. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms as you stepped further inside, trying to bring some more warmth to your body. You should have known that it was going to be a bad idea riding your bike across town without a jacket, but the damage was already done.

“The stuff’s in my room if you want to follow me.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice how quiet you were, but he had to admit that he thought it was cute. He knew that that was just who you were, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was making you feel nervous. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into taking the weed if you really didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he cared so much, it was just a normal sale.

Except it wasn’t. You were his best friend and had no experience with drugs whatsoever. He wanted to know why you had a sudden interest, but didn’t feel like it was his business to ask, no matter how close the two of you were.

Eddie had always thought you were pretty, but also thought that you were out of his league. He was the town freak and you were the shy girl who always had her nose in a book. He didn’t think that the two of you were exactly a great match. He didn’t want anyone starting rumors about you too, so he let you slip through his fingers. He decided that he was already risking enough by being friends with you.

But now there you were, standing in the doorway of his room, somehow having gotten prettier since he had seen you a few days ago. You were avoiding his eye contact, staring at the desk that was behind him. You were eyeing the stack of books that were sitting on top of it, wondering what they were, noticing that they were different than the ones that had been there before.

You slowly stepped further into the room, making a beeline for the stack, noticing that they were all new books. You slowly looked at all the covers, most of them being ones you had never heard of, but you were interested in every single one as soon as you read the back. Your face lit up at the book that was on the very bottom. It was your current favorite fantasy novel that you had read more times than you had cared to admit, but you had lost your copy and hadn’t been able to get a new one. You opened the book and let out a gasp at the little signature on the first page, wondering if he had bought it like that or if there was a signing that you didn’t know about.

Eddie watched you, still finding the way that you mumbled to words that were printed on the books to yourself adorable. For a second, he had completely forgotten why you were there. For a second, he had been convinced that you were there to hang out with him like usual.

“I can’t believe you have a signed copy of this.” You turned to face him, showing him the signature. He just let out a chuckle at that, finding you even more adorable. He didn’t think he had ever seen you so animated in the years that he had known you. “How did I not know this?”

“Oh, yeah, I got it a couple weeks ago,” he shrugged. “I honestly forgot that I had it.” The thing had been sitting on his desk since after the signing and he really had forgotten about it, his obsession with it being completely abandoned for another. “You can…keep it if you want.” Your eyes lit up at his suggestion but you quickly slumped your shoulders.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t take it from you.” You set the book back on the desk, knowing that you would have felt bad taking something like that from him. Even though it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a while, you could tell that it meant something to him.

“No,” he shook his head, moving towards you. He took the book and shoved it into your hands, his touching yours as he did so. “Take it, l/n. Please. It’s just been collecting dust here and a thing like that deserves to go to a good home.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes bored into yours to show you how serious he was and you couldn’t help but stare into them. They were hypnotizing, so brown and pretty. You had always been a sucker for brown eyes, especially Eddie’s. You knew that you’d do anything he asked just by looking into them, and you were sure that if he knew that fact, he would have gotten you into trouble.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His hands were still on yours and you were so aware of his touch, loving how soft but rough his skin was. You could feel the cold metal that was his rings against your fingers that was mixed with the warmness of his hands. You just wanted to take them into your own, interlacing your fingers with his.

Eddie took the book from your hands and removed one of the straps of your tote bag from your shoulder and let the book fall inside before putting the strap right back. A smirk kicked up at the corner of his lips and you stared at them, thinking about how kissable they looked. They were so pink and plump and you just wanted to know what they felt like slotted between yours.

“Just so you don’t think about leaving it here,” he winked then turned on his heel to head to his bedside table. He pulled out a tin lunchbox from the bottom shelf and set it on the bed before opening it. He rifled through it, pulling out multiple plastic bags, trying to remember if he even had anything for a beginner. Most of the stuff he had was for people with a much higher tolerance and he didn’t want to start you on something you couldn’t handle.

Eddie found just what he was looking for at the bottom of the lunchbox and held it up to the light just to make sure, then nodded. He then closed the lunchbox and put it back where he found it and sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him. You hesitantly sat down next to him, so close to the other end that if you sat any farther away from him, you’d fall to the floor.

Your heart was racing in your chest. You weren’t even going to smoke the stuff, you just wanted to be able to say that you bought some. Once you got home, you had every intention of throwing it into a drawer, never to be touched again. You just were afraid of what it would do to you so you definitely weren’t going to smoke it alone. That was just too scary. Maybe if you had more confidence, you could have asked him to smoke it with you.

“How much?” You asked, reaching for the money you had in your pocket and Eddie just shook his head.

“No need, l/n,” he rested his hand on top of yours to stop you. “First one’s always free,” he winked and your cheeks flushed.

“Could you do me a favor?” You asked, not even thinking about the words that were coming out of your mouth. Eddie titled his head to the side, wondering what you could have possibly wanted him to do for you.

“Anything,” he nodded quickly, ready to do whatever you asked, no matter how weird or ridiculous. “You know that.”

“Would you…want to smoke with me?” That was the last thing he was expecting to ask. He didn’t think that you ever want to get high with him.

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. He hoped you couldn’t hear how hard his heart was beating his chest as he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. “You really want to?” He just wanted to be sure before he started anything.

“Please.” The words came out more desperate than you had intended, but you didn’t even care. You were just happy that he said the words you had been afraid to. Now you didn’t have to worry. He'd be right there to help you if something went wrong and you were sure that he wouldn’t judge if you did something that wasn’t right.

“Alright, well, I’m just gonna roll this up, okay?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at his desk as he held up the baggie with his other hand. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as Eddie gave you a reassuring smile, standing from his bed.

You just nodded in response and he pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk, getting to work. You stayed on the bed, not wanting to get into his space, just letting him do whatever he needed to. You sat patiently, trying not to think too much about what you were doing or you were going to back out. You only got one chance to smoke with your crush and you were going to take it.

Once Eddie had the joint all rolled up, he turned in his chair to face you then made his way back to the bed, sitting down on it hesitantly. Your comfort was his top priority and he was fully prepared to stop everything if you didn’t want to continue.He turned to face you, giving you his full attention. He had never smoked with a first-timer, but he still knew exactly what to do. He wanted to give you options, letting you have full control of the situation.

“So, we can either take turns or we can shotgun, which is where I inhale the smoke and blow it into your mouth. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He was being so sweet and gentle and it was getting really difficult for you to not fall for him even harder. You weighed your options and decided that shotgunning was probably the best idea. That way, there was less of a chance that you’d choke and maybe you just wanted to be close to Eddie.

“Can we…shotgun?” You words came out unsure and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, wanting to make sure that was actually what you wanted. You nodded enthusiastically, scooting closer to him again. “That’s what I want to do.”

“Then let’s do it.” Eddie turned to grab his lighter from his bedside table and smiled to himself since he had secretly wanted you to pick shotgun. He wanted to be able to touch you, to feel your lips on his, the whole idea making him a little hard. Once he had the lighter, he put the joint between his fingers before holding the lighter out to you. “Wanna do the honors, cutie?”

“Sure,” you nodded and took the lighter from him. You sparked the lighter up and cupped your hand around the joint like you had seen in movies and let it catch the flame before pulling away. You kept hold of the lighter as Eddie beckoned you forward with his free hand.

“C’mere,” he said and you obeyed, moving so you were sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He mimicked your actions and you both got so close that your legs were touching. “Make sure the smoke is in your mouth before inhaling, okay? Don’t want you choking.” You just nodded and Eddie took a drag and held the smoke in his mouth as you leaned forward even more. Your lips parted and Eddie reached up to your face slowly, giving you a look as if asking for permission.

“Do what you need to do,” you told him and his fingers took hold of your chin. His thumb reached up to your bottom lip and he pulled it down as if asking you to open your mouth wider. After it was wide enough, his hand moved to your cheek, pulling your face to his. He gingerly opened up, pressing his lips to your before pushing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he instructed and waited until all of the smoke was in your mouth before you took a deep breath.

Eddie leaned away so you could exhale, gauging your reaction to make sure that you were okay. Just from your first hit, you had been doing a lot better than other first-timers he had seen. Sure, you had only done well because he had told you what to do, but he still thought that you were a natural.

“I don’t feel anything.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you still felt very sober and Eddie just laughed in response.

“You’re not going to feel anything right away, hon.” His hand moved to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want another hit?”

“Yes,” you nodded and Eddie took another puff and held the joint away from the both of you as he grabbed hold of your waist, pressing his open mouth to yours once again. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled before you were supposed to, pulling away to cough into your arm. You had been so focused on the way Eddie’s lips felt against yours that you had completely forgotten what you were supposed to do.

“You okay?” He asked, his hand moving to your back, giving it a sympathetic rub. You just held your thumb up as an indication as you continued to cough. “C’mon, let’s go get some water.”

He stubbed the joint out onto his desk then took you by the hand, pulling you from the bed. You continued to cough all the way to the kitchen and couldn’t believe that you had ruined the good time you were having because you had gotten distracted.

Eddie quickly grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water from the tap before handing it to you. You quickly gulped down as much of the beverage as you could and let out a sigh of relief as you set the empty glass down on the counter.

“You okay? You good?” He asked, the words rushing out of his mouth. He stood in front of you, his hands resting on your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his chin.

Eddie didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort you and why it had become second nature to him when he was never good at or liked it, he didn’t know. Anytime he was around first-timers who inhaled improperly, someone else always stepped in to help while he watched from the sidelines. But now, there he was, fully prepared to give you whatever you needed.

“I’m good,” you assured him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Can you just…hold me for a second?”

“I can hold you for all the seconds, honey.” You weren’t sure where the little nickname came from, but you were eating it up, wanting him to say it anytime he referred to you.

You pulled back to look at him and your eyes immediately shifted to his lips. You watched him wet them with his tongue, the wet sheen making them look even more inviting. It was like he was doing it on purpose, trying to torture you by dangling it in your face, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything about it.

Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in a lingering peck before quickly pulling away. An embarrassed flush made its way upon your face and you covered your lips with the pads of your fingertips.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You turned to leave and Eddie didn’t let you get far. He grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him. He took no time to cradle your face in your hands and capture your top lip between his two. Your hands found his waist and you pulled him to you so he was flush with your body. The kiss was slow and sweet, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It was everything you had ever hoped, everything you could have ever imagined.

“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he insisted against your lips. “You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” That made you stop in your tracks. You quickly pulled away to look at him, your eyes widening.

“How long?” You were desperate to know exactly how long he had felt that way about you so you could see how much your crushes had overlapped each other.

“Since high school. Almost kissed you that night when I drove you home from Hellfire and I’ve been kicking myself ever since because I didn’t.”

You had remembered that night so vividly. You had ridden your bike, but Eddie had insisted on giving you a ride home. The two of you had talked the entire time about everything and nothing, occasionally giggling at little jokes that you had shared with each other. Even after Eddie had pulled into your driveway, you still sat there, neither of you wanting you to leave. You had noticed him leaning towards you, but you didn’t want to make any assumptions, so you just said your goodbyes and you just felt embarrassed for thinking that he was going to kiss you when it had been clear that he hadn’t.

All that time, you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you and you had been right. You actually hadn’t been delusional for once. For once, the guy that you had feelings for actually reciprocated them and you couldn’t have been more elated.

“Well, now you can make up for lost time.” Your hands rested against his back.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Eddie pulled you back in for another kiss, this one more rough and messy, the two of you so desperate for the other, taking exactly what you wanted from each other.

Eddie’s hands moved to your cardigan and he undid the first button so slowly, giving you a chance to back out if you wanted to. Once he got the okay to continue, he undid the rest and pushed it off of your shoulders. You removed it from your arms and let it fall to the floor.

You let your hands trail up his back and you pulled onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Once it was removed, he threw it to the side, grabbing hold of your waist again. His hands slipped to the strip of skin between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your tank top that had ridden up as he backed you up to the counter, your back hitting it.

He helped you get up on top of it and you spread your legs, Eddie stepping between them. His mouth was quickly on yours again as he licked into it, his tongue roaming around it as if he was trying to taste every single bit of it.

You let out a moan as his tongue swirled around yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hands traveled up your shirt and moved to your bra, his fingers resting on the clasp as if asking to take it off.

“Take it off,” you commanded. “Please.” The word came out like a whine and Eddie was happy to oblige, quickly unhooking the clasping before removing the straps from your arms and sliding the whole thing down and pulling it from your tank top. He tossed it behind him then looked at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitance.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling from being out of breath from your lips being attached. He would have never forgiven himself if he had done something you weren’t comfortable with. He just wanted to be one hundred percent sure.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Eds.” Your hand moved up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I want you to be my first.”

“Your first?” His eyes widened. He honestly had no idea that you were a virgin. “Y/n, are you sure you want it to be me?” Eddie wanted to be sure that it was actually what you wanted. That you were doing it with someone you cared about and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be your first.

“Very sure,” you nodded. “You’re the only one I trust to do it.” He felt his cheeks blush at your words, knowing that they meant that you had thought about having sex with him and his dick was getting harder by the second.

“Y/n, you have no idea how honored I am that you want it to be me, but I just want to be sure that you really want this.” Eddie thought it was the greatest honor of all that he was the one that you wanted to lose your virginity to and considered himself the luckiest man alive because of it.

“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Oh, have you?” He teased and pressed another kiss to your lips. “Wanna move this to the bedroom?”

“I’d want nothing more.” Eddie’s lips slotted between yours once again and his hands moved out from under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the counter. Your ankles locked at his back and he carried you to his room, your lips still in the middle of a messy kiss.

He entered his room and slammed the door behind him with his foot, hurrying the two of you to his bed. He collapsed onto it and you fell on top of him. He then sat up and looked at you with a serious look in his eyes.

“I just want to let you know a few things before we get started,” he said, his hands resting on your thighs.

“Okay,” you nodded, ready to listen to whatever he needed to say.

“First, if I go too far or you don’t like something or even if you don’t want to continue, don’t be afraid to let me know. This is all about you, okay?” You just nodded in response and Eddie licked his lips before he continued.

“And on the opposite end, don’t be afraid to let me know what you do like. If you like something, feel free to make noise, and you don’t have to be embarrassed about being too loud. There’s no such thing.”

“Got it,” you nodded, looking him in the eyes so he knew that you completely understood what he was saying. You were desperate to get on with it already, but felt like you owed it to him to listen to what he was saying since it seemed pretty important.

“Do you want to start or should I?”

“You do it.” You wanted him to take the lead since he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Okay,” he replied, leaning towards you, his face only inches from yours. “Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?”

“Mhm,” you nodded and his lips attached to yours again. You felt a little more confident and you were the one to stick your tongue into his mouth, mimicking what he had done earlier, slowly laying him down onto the bed, removing your shirt as you did so. You then leaned down and pulled him into a kiss, your bare chest against his. Eddie brought his hands up and grabbed hold of your tits, the pads of his thumbs massaging your nipples, just enough to make them hard and you made a noise that he knew that he was going to grow very fond of.

Eddie pulled away from you, his mouth immediately moving to your tit. He moved his tongue back and forth, licking across your nipple and you moaned. The whole thing was so foreign to you but you liked the feeling.

Just as you were getting used to it, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing your hands to move to his hair, giving it a yank. Eddie took that as an invitation to continue and moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. You gave it his hair another yank and let out one more moan, trying your best to not be self conscious about how loud you were.

“That’s it, honey,” he said, licking another stripe along your nipple. “Let it out.” Eddie pressed his lips to the spot between your breasts then flipped you over so that your back was against the mattress. He pressed open mouthed kisses all the way down to your stomach and stopped when he got to the top of your jeans.

“These look great on you,” he complimented. “But I’d think they’d look better on the floor. Can I remove them?”

“Yes, please.” He took no time to unbutton them and pulled down the zipper before pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. He pressed a kiss to the spot above your underwear then looked up at you for permission to remove them.

“Take them off, Eds. Please. I need you.” Your words came out so whiny and Eddie felt himself getting even more hard.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded before taking your underwear off. He was about to throw them on the floor, but you stopped him, putting your hands over his.

“You should keep them,” you told him. “To remember this night.”

“Isn't that objectification?” He liked the idea of keeping your underwear, but also kind of felt like he was treating you like an object by doing that.

“Not if I say it isn’t. Put them in your pocket.” Without a second thought, Eddie put the underwear into his back pocket before resting his hand on your knees, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He then spread your legs open to get a peek at your pussy which was sopping wet.

“Wow,” he said, noticing that there was already a stain from where everything had leaked out onto his bedding. “This might be the wettest pussy I’ve ever seen. Mind if I get a taste?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Eddie climbed off of the bed as he pulled you to the end of it. He then got onto his knees before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He looked up at you one more time for any signs of hesitance and when he saw how eager you looked, he slowly pushed his head between your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.

You let out a gasp as his nose brushed it and gripped the blanket as he licked a stripe from your slit to your clit. He swirled his tongue around the area and you couldn’t keep your sounds to yourself anymore.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, your fingers gripping more of the blanket as he worked his magic with his tongue. He grazed the sensitive spot with his teeth and you whimpered which let him know that he could continue. He applied a little more pressure with his teeth, loving the sounds that the action elicited from you.

“So good, Eds. Need more.” You were desperate for whatever he was going to give you, not caring at all what it was, just as long it felt as good as him giving you head.

“Oh, this is just the appetizer, hon.” He dove into your cunt once more, shoving his tongue inside of it, causing you to moan the loudest you ever had.

“Fuck, Eddie, more.” He swirled his tongue around and around and you made the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his life, knowing that they’d still ring in his head after the night was over.

After a couple more moans, he removed his face from your pussy and practically threw himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue swirling around your mouth.

“See how good you taste, honey?” He asked. “Wanna taste you all the time.”

“And I’ll let you,” you responded. “Whenever you want.”

“I love the sound of that.” He slotted his lips between yours in a dizzying kiss before pulling away. He then reached for his bedside table and pulled the drawer open before taking out a condom, not even bothering to close the drawer back.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” you told him, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he wouldn’t ever judge you, but still couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be mad at you. He let the condom fall to the floor then moved himself back on top of you, his hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Are you mad?” You looked up at him, and his face softened instantly. He would have never been mad at you for that. Maybe he was a little disappointed, but he thought he would have been wrong to blame your for something like that.

“Baby, no, of course I’m not mad at you.” He shook his head, giving your hands a squeeze. He couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.

“Promise?” You needed constant reassurance or your brain would convince you that he was lying.

“I promise, honey,” he nodded. “How about we put on some pajamas and watch a movie? Anything you want.”

“I’d like that,” you nodded. You really had thought you were ready, but the whole thing still scared you. You really enjoyed everything leading up to it, but still found the penetration part to be too much for you at the moment.

Eddie rolled off of you and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser before tossing them to you. You threw them on while he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed and still felt anxious about him being mad at you. What you had was so good and you were convinced that you had ruined it.

“I’m not mad at you,” he called from the bathroom. He knew you too well sometimes, always somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking. He knew how prone you were to overthinking and was always there to reassure you that your thoughts were in fact not true.

Eddie emerged from the bathroom and threw on a shirt before throwing himself onto the mattress and rolling back on top of you. He pressed another bruising kiss to your lips, his hands reaching for yours again. He then pulled away, a grin breaking out on his face as he looked down at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated, burying his face into your neck, snuggling into it.

“I know,” you replied, just like always, but he was never convinced, even though you really did know that he wasn’t mad at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said one more time, pressing a kiss to your neck before rolling off you.

He reached for the remote to his tv and turned it on before pulling you to his chest. You both watched the screen mindlessly while your arms wrapped around him. One of his arms draped across your waist while the other hand stroked your hair, something he always did to bring you comfort.

You looked up at him as he watched the tv and couldn’t help but feel lucky to have a best friend like him. Someone who was always there for you no matter what. Someone who would never judge you for anything, no matter what he really thought about it. Someone who you were completely and one hundred percent head over heels for. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days you’d get the guts to tell him how you really felt.

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 .

# with black-leg sanji and roronoa zoro.

you are unable to choose between the two men who had fallen in love with you. their solution presents itself in the form of sexual competition.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day eight. smut (mdni!). threesome. sensory deprivation. double penetration. anal. fingering (reader!receiving). blindfold. bdsm. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.5k

zoro and sanji were as similar to one another as the moon was to the sun; the tides were to the flames. one did not suppose there yet existed a single topic with which the pair could agree with. their fighting styles were nothing if not divergent. their taste in alcohol might as well have inspired the water-and-oil analogy. personalities; most favored tastes and colors; fashion sense — or the lack thereof, in zoro’s case; the conception of what was deemed attractive. the two were incapable of meeting a common ground, and those around them had all but quit to witness the instance in which they would share a similar opinion. when one was, too, to consider the amount of women sanji flirted with — the same ones zoro did not felt the urge to spare a miserable second-glance at — not a soul expected their lines to overlap in the romantic field.

which all but made their harbored feelings for you far more surprising. not to misplace the root to such astonishment, for you were neither unattractive nor dull. rather despairing to learn that the only subject of agreeableness between the two also happened to be the one they were willing to compete twice as much for.

whenever sanji strived to serve you heart-shaped pastries, zoro would attempt to counter-attack by lifting weights without a shirt on, in front of you. if you were to comment on a favorite color, sanji was soon to match his ties to it — whereas zoro was soon to throw them out when given the chance. the ensued chaos sure was the worst during re-stocking hours, for if you decided to stroll around the town, the two would bicker and follow. sanji would, naturally, have the upper hand throughout the initial hours — the swordsman had a broken compass for a center, and it was not hard to have him lost within the minute — however, for some obnoxious motive, zoro somewhat had never once failed to reencounter the pair of you, which meant that he would then glue to your side until the late hour of night, striving to make up for the lost time. those specific situations were so stressful on itself that you resorted to chopper to serve as company; the reindeer’s presence and excitement serving as brief reprieve from their constant bickering.

the two-year interval between the crew had been one of hope. distance sure would see fit to resolve the matters of your heart and ensue in a decision. zoro and sanji were prone to be at eternal odds, yet they were not disrespectful whatsoever. the non-chosen one would not hesitate to retreat if your love was to be poured into another. it would be a devastating vision, a never-ending pain and non-healing wound, yet one both were willing to withstand for the sake of your happiness.

the problem was that, as wonderful and selfless as that behavior sounded, you, in fact, had not been able to choose during the time apart. the longing proved itself to be equal, you did not miss one more than the other, so much as you did not prioritize your breathing over your heartbeat. both were important pieces that built themselves a solage in the fissure of your once maimed heart. sanji was warmth and professed love, external affection and sweet-coated sentences; the soothing embrace of spring with a trail of divergent petals. zoro was the mountain whose surface no force could maim. he was the much needed instance of shared silence in the aftermath of a tiring day, the reassurance of a lingering hand. love explicit through protection and care, the guarantee of a fierce guardian even in slumber.

zoro was the steel that sliced those who had dared to maim you, while sanji was the hand that patched your wounds. whereas sanji was the breeze to sway on your kite, zoro was the rock underneath to stop you from soaring far away. but you would never dare voice said thoughts, fearing the negative repercussions. regardless, the postponement in your decision all but started to cause unrecoverable commotion.

the separation led them both to overcompensate — and clash — in order to be given a fraction of your time. yet, surprisingly enough, the discussions weren’t the most obnoxious aspect, for the crew had grown accustomed to them. no. the unbearable lied on the sexual tension, almost palpable enough to be sliced and with its aftermath painful to those with ears. lustful glances shared and caught; zoro’s tendencies on leaving the crow’s nest door unlocked whenever he decided to masturbate; sanji’s barely contained moans when he bathed; your own restlessness and mood-shifts born from the unattended desire. characters such as franky and luffy, chopper and robin, had not a care in the world — the latter going as far as finding it amusing. usopp and nami, however, had enough, and were successful in their plan of setting the three of you in the sunny while the rest of the crew ventured through the newest found island. the ship was large enough for temporary avoidance, yet an eventual clash was inevitable, and the coward duo all but hoped that would serve as an enough motivator to resolve things.

unbeknownst to them, sanji and zoro had agreed on certain terms beforehand, sharing a thorough — oftentimes heated — discussion over relationship schedules and dynamics were you to agree with their solution. sharing altogether was not the sweetest fruit to the palate; yet, was the initial plan to fail, it’d have to be enough.

it started with sanji’s usual pampering. a dessert with a purposefully exacerbated amount of cream; a cold beverage served with a holed-straw, forcing the liquid to drip down your chin and covered breasts. when you retrieved from the deck in search of a change of clothes, zoro had been the one to cage you halfway, sweat-covered chest bumping into your sticky one — with sanji following thereafter, your back pressed against his front. their proposition was quite simple: a shared fuck with a blindfold, for without the aid of sight, you would be unable to assign faces to touches. that who pleased you more would be the chosen one; loser forced to retreat. it was a fair trade — and on god, you’d not be the one to complain.

they had argued; from which room to guide you, to which position would be the most suitable. zoro wanted to use his bandana, whereas sanji wanted to use one of his ties, meaning you ended up blindfolded and with your hands tied behind your back, bare and vulnerable; blind to the external world. although all was to be expected, considering the amount of repressed desire, you were surprised to learn that they planned on being agonizingly slow.

a gloved hand wrapped itself around your throat, for without the absence or presence of calluses, caught-on through touch, you would be unable to guess whose fingers were those. you were sat on a muscular lap — yet another no indicator, for neither lacked in that department. the pair seemed to agree on not speaking at all as well, but you were quite sure their identities would eventually be denounced by their grunts and moans.

the deprivation of sight had enhanced the rest of your senses. your hearing grew more attuned; your skin, twice as sensitive. the rough pattern of the glove left a trail of goosebumps in its wake, fingers guiding themselves down to your glistening core, dripping on the thigh underneath. the sudden contact with an ice cube had you gasping, your head resting on the shoulder of the unknown man. melting-cold water surrounded your pert nipples as that who lingered in front of you teased your breasts; the gloved finger drew languid circles on your clit, eliciting a sudden moan in response. you felt the stiffening of both figures, struggling to contain their reaction.

the man underneath had clenched the muscles of his thigh, gripping the flesh of your waist as the testing roll of your hips ignited your arousal, your cunt all but leaking at the stimulation. ice traveled from your chest to your belly button; above your ribs. your back arched at those mixed sensations, the coldness from above and the heat from below. your nipples were flicked, wet and freezing, before the buds were teased with the brief, tickling touch of a feather. the other shifted ever-so-slightly, the sudden movement causing his thigh to brush harder against your swollen clit; a lascivious moan clawing its way through your throat.

a hiss — zoro. a whimper — sanji. mingled and sudden sounds, hastily muted, with directions unknown. a sudden object, leather-made, was roughly wrapped around your thigh, tight enough to interrupt the blood influx altogether. somewhere, sanji choked, as if disapprovingly, yet the teasing hand lingered; the gloved finger toying with the straps. the fingers to your intimacy made their return, index and middle rubbing against your inner lips; tongue swirling around your earlobe, threatening to penetrate it, wet and loud sucking in pair with the sudden insertion of a finger in your throbbing cunt. you gasped, figure moving yet halting, for the belt constricting your thigh made it all far more painful. the sudden release of pressure had you mewling, all but for the bind to return, constricting the current of your own blood.

yet another ice cube drew patterns on one of your breasts, your nostrils catching on the aroma of a scented candle. the sound of a lighter; the sudden approach of heat. while a set of fingers busied themselves with press of melting ice on your flesh, teasing a hardened nipple with the freezing texture, the other part of your chest fell prey to a gentle rain of candle wax, heated and immediate, the sensation divergence enough to ensue a cascate of broken moans.

earmuffs had been placed, depriving you, too, of sound. the sudden jolt of a thigh had you bouncing; reacting due to mere instinct. when you whimpered, chasing the touch of the finger within your core; leg trembling due to the absence of blood influx, a choir of muffled and unrecognizable grunting and whimpering followed-in-suit. sharp canines dug on the juncture between neck and shoulder at the same time that a nipple was twisted by a foreign finger, coated in hot wax. goosebumps surged without second-thought; heavy breathing fanning above your ear.

the two men were mingling, a converging set in which you were to become the one caught in the middle. ice teased your parted lips, prying them open, the freezing water replaced with the warmth of another’s mouth; a sweet, brief, kiss, all but altered once you attempted to chase it. your lips were then stolen, steel-made grip maintained in your chin. the one underneath did not seem to like that in the slightest, for the pace of a swirling thumb around your clit made itself fast and demanding, your mewls swallowed by the other’s famished mouth — him, too, a moaning mess.

the gloved hand wrapped itself around a nipple, tugging at it before groping your breast. the kiss was broken then, a choir of unheard complaints falling from said man while your back was forced against the chest of the other; your cunt dripping and close to one’s erection. you tried grinding against it, yet the belt at your other thigh made each movement far more painful than it should have been. besides, it seemed as though zoro and sanji had agreed on which holes belonged to who beforehand, and the one underneath did not seem to have his cock meant to your pussy. instead, his mouth latched itself onto your neck, biting and sucking as he had your hips raised ever-so-slightly, allowing his tip to tease the folds of your ass. it traveled in between, coating the flesh with his pre-cum; briefly pressing itself against your entrance before immediate retreat.

you caught on a sudden shuffle, the pressure of the man standing vanishing all of the sudden. instead, he knelt in order to correct the angle of your figure on the other’s lap, his fingers trailing down your butthole. he collected your essence upon the fingering of your then neglected cunt, and the ice made its return; cold water mingled with heated pre-cum. he applied pressure on the tight entrance, his index sliding inside until the knuckle, pumping itself in-and-out, stretching your hole properly before the addition of his middle-finger. the man blew a gust of air against your clit, seeming to drown in your scent, yet not daring to dart his tongue and have a taste — as it seemed, the right to oral had not been a consensus. your butthole was scissored while the flesh of your shoulder was assaulted by bruising kisses, the gloved hand groping your right breast with maiming strength.

at last, yet another sudden shift had a tip pressed against the entrance where the other’s fingers were previously buried inside. the correction, too, had granted one the desired access to your dripping, throbbing cunt, his own tip teasing your folds. you trembled in anticipation, fingers struggling against the fabric of the tie that deprived you from reciprocating said touches.

a heartbeat of silence, all but too brief, before you were filled at once. the cock shoved inside your butthole was larger; the veins were more prominent. that, who stretched your cunt, was larger, the curved tip reaching a further length, finding your g-spot on its first attempt. you howlered, your throat burning at the expense of your sounds of pleasure. their paces were erratic; much too different for a common ground to be found. the one to fuck your ass was harsher; steadier. his balls were a constant against your flesh as he all but forced himself inside, his tongue and teeth licking and biting at whichever inch of bare skin he could find. that man had you stretched and vulnerable; aching and begging.

the one at your cunt was sloppier, far more desperate. he had parted your legs open, tore the belt off your thigh and threw it somewhere you could not see — the sudden absence of pressure all but enhancing the pleasure. the grip on your raised calves were what kept him tethered to that realm, his chest threatening to press itself against your own whenever his shaft was buried inside until the base. he was faster, too, and more eager. whereas the man at your butthole removed all but half of his member to shove yet again with devastating force, the pussy-drunk one retrieved himself entirely, until the tip threatened to spill off your entrance, before lunging his tip back into your g-spot.

it was overwhelming; maddening. it was the most pleasurable experience you had ever experienced. your words became babbles; saliva dripped down your chin at the failed attempts of letting them know you were close. it was unimportant whatsoever, for your high came as though a flood: abundant, never-stopping. you creamed the cock that remained deep inside your walls while the sound of your pleasure mingled with those from the men around you.

your cunt was vacant seconds thereafter, the tip of one’s shaft pressed against your abdomen as a stream of cum smeared your skin clear-white. the other kept plunging into you, the brief overstimulation causing you to squirm and whine before he, too, released himself — only that he had done so inside —, riding his own high and emptying the contents of his balls, the cum enough to slip past the folds of your ass and drip down his own thighs.

you fell limply on said man’s back, breathing heavily, your skin coated in sweat and cum; water and wax. the earmuffs slipped, and you had half-the-mind to decode the ongoing discussion at hand.

“YOU CAME INSIDE!”

“WELL, SHITTY-COOK, IF YOU WANTED IT AS WELL SO BADLY, YOU SHOULD’VE TAKEN DIBS ON THE ASS!”

“RELEASE HER, YOU BRUTE—”

well, at least that served you as a tool to assign faces to sensations.

— 🐈‍⬛ : late but never forgotten! if you’re here from the kinktober masterlist, wondering “where the fuck are the other days?!”, i feel the need to apologize yet again! i’m still a bit sick and hadn’t had the strength to re-read the previous stories, correct minor errors and post them in time. that being said, ace, kid and robin will be posted on the vacant, third week! super SUUUUUUPER sorry!

[hsunrry]

best i’ve ever had // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: you asked your best friend for unusual favor.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,1k

warnings: smut18+, praise, oral (m receiving)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you laid down on his bed on your back, closing your eyes, when you felt him laying down just on top of you with his whole weight, nuzzling his face in your neck. he’s your best friend since forever and you two are practically inseparable. “i’m tired.” he mumbled. you chuckled softly at his words.

“Harry?” you spoke after few seconds, thinking he fell asleep. he lifted his head up to look at you with sleepy expression. “we’re best friends for so long.” you hesitated for a moment. “can i have a weird request? you don’t have to agree.”

“anything, you know that.” he nodded slowly, lowering his face back to your neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps on your skin. “what is it?”

“so you know, when i was with this guy few months ago…” you started, chuckling right after. “god, this is so stupid.” he lifted his head up to look at you with confused expression.

“i’m sure it’s not, whatever it is, just say it.” he shrugged, poking your side. he went back to nuzzle into your neck.

“okay, so, when i was with him and i was giving him a head he was like… quiet? i don’t know, he came, obviously and he was telling me he was enjoying it, so i don’t know if it’s just some, uh, preference of mine that i like when guy is loud durning that and he just wasn’t the loud type, or if i’m just not good enough at it to make him loud.” you swallowed quietly.

“oh.” his face still in your neck. “you’re asking me if it’s normal that guy is quiet durning that?” he summarised.

“no, i’m just wondering if i’m good enough at it or if i’m that bad he wasn’t satisfied to even make a sound.” you shrugged. he lifted his head up to look at you.

“so, you want me to?…” he bit inside of his cheek nervously, looking at you expectantly.

“you don’t have to agree if it’s stupid for you and if you think it’ll change anything between us.” you said quickly. he looked at you for long moment, his expression soft and reassuring.

“it won’t change anything between us.” he said gently with a soft shrug. “i want to help you figure it out. i’ll be brutally honest.” he chuckled softly, but after that he went serious. “but only if you’re completely sure you want to do that. i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or awkward.”

“don’t worry about it, i won’t.” you chuckled. he smiled slightly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“okay then.” he sat up, standing up from the bed right after. “give me a minute.” he said, walking out from the room, probably to the bathroom. after few minutes he came back, his face slightly flushed. he sat down next to you. “okay, i washed myself.” he smiled. “i want you to do exactly what you did with him, okay?”

“yeah, got it.” you said with soft smile. “can you lay down then?” he nodded, laying down on his bed. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“okay, i’m ready.” he said softly, trying to mask his nervousness with a smile.

“are you sure?” you asked last time.

“yes, i’m sure.” his voice firm, his eyes never leaving yours. “i promise, i’ll be honest and i won’t hold back anything.” he took deeper breath, preparing himself for what was about to happen. you took off his sweatpants, leaving him only in boxers. he looked down at himself, his heart racing in his chest. “okay…” he whispered, his eyes flicking back to meet yours. “go ahead.” he said, his voice trembling slightly. he inhaled sharply when you started palming him over thin material. “mhm.” he let out quiet moan. “it’s already good, y/n and you’re not doing much right now.” he muttered.

“is it?” you smiled softly, taking off his boxers when you felt he was rock hard and going to kneel between his thighs. he spread his legs wider in response, giving you more room to work with.

“you look so good like that.” he complimented, his voice already hoarse. you smiled softly, loving the fact that he was praising you and that he was giving you better reactions already than the guy you were with before. you wrapped your hand around his hardened flesh, starting to stroke slowly. your thumb went to spread pre-cum on his tip. his head fell back against the headboard and quiet groan escaped his lips as you stroked him. “oh fuck, y/n…” he gasped, his hips rocking slightly into your hand. “your hand feel good, so good.” his hands gripped the sheets slightly. you went down with your head, starting circling his tip with your tongue. he jolted at the sensation and he whimpered. his one hand went into your hair. “please, more.” satisfied with his reactions, you wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking slightly and working with your tongue inside your mouth. his hips bucking slightly as you sucked on his cock. “fuck, y/n.” he gasped, his fingers tightening in your hair. “yes, just like that.” he moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as you went deeper on him, sucking and stroking the part you couldn’t reach with your mouth. his noises went more desperate. “your mouth feels incredible.” he panted, his free hand gripped the headboard behind his head. “you love sucking my cock, don’t you? such a good girl…” you moaned around him at his words, loving the comments and noises he was making. you started moving even faster, hollowing your cheeks inside to bring him even more pleasure. he cried out, his head snapping against headboard. “yes, yes, just like that! fuck, y/n, i’m getting close, so close!” he warned, gripping your hair slightly tighter. “don’t stop, please, don’t stop. i’m gonna cum.” you started moving even faster at his words. he let out loud, drawn-out moan, his body tensing as his hot sprouts went down your throat. he panted your name few times as his body shuddered with pleasure. you sucked him slowly through his orgasm, licking him clean and swallowing everything. he collapsed on the bed, his chest heaving with each breath. a lazy, satisfied smile spread across his face. “holy shit, that was incredible.” he murmured, his hand stroking gently through your hair. “you’re amazing, y/n. i don’t know what was wrong with this guy.”

“really?” you smiled, laying down next to him. he pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

“yes, really.” he nuzzled into your hair. “that was the best blowjob i’ve ever had. hands down.”

“i’m glad i wasn’t the problem then.” you chuckled softly.

“you’re definitely not the problem, darling.”

[m30wk1ttycat]

teach me?

virgin!stiles x afab!best friend!reader

warning, this contains: oral (receiving), swearing.

summary: after stiles' request to get you to teach him how to give head, you agree. with not much reluctance, either - only surprising him more.

stiles was - and still is - in shock. he expected there to be much more tries to get you to accept (not that he'd ever force you, of course), but there wasn't. surprisingly, there was no hesitation to your answer.

"sure," you said, tossing your phone aside on the bed. so what if he was your best friend? it might've been a bit weird, but it was just a little favor.. that was it. just a favor. nothing else. totally didn't accept because you liked him. nope.

"'sure'?? he repeated, baffled. "just like that?"

"yes."

"are you sure?" he checked.

"yes."

a beat. "still?"

"yes."

"are you positive? you didn't mishear me?" he took your eyeroll as a cue to repeat what he had asked a few minutes ago: "can you teach me-"

"keep asking stupid questions, and i'll take it back," you threatened, cutting him off before he could finish. stiles immediately shook his head no, so fast he could've sworn he heard his neck crack once or twice. "good. come here." he was quick to obey, crawling on top of you. without wasting a second, he began fumbling with your shorts, his attempts of taking them off of you.

as much as you enjoyed watching, you were as impatient as he was, and decided to help him out. you nudged his hands away and undid them yourself, shimmying out of them. eagerly, he hooked his thumbs under your panties, looking up at you for permission. at your nod, he slid them down your legs. while he was at it, he took the chance to squeeze and caress your thighs. might as well.

his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he took in the sight before him. beautiful. that was when he realized he had no clue what to do - even with all the porn he'd watched, mostly for teaching purposes, his mind had blanked out on him the second he found himself between your legs. "now what?"

"give me your-" as if he had been reading your mind, he extended his hand. "-hand."

taking it into your own, you ran his fingers through your folds. "that- that's the clit," you explained, "it's really important, so pay close attention to it. that's where most of our pleasure comes from."

he nodded, circling it experimentally as he listened to your breaths getting heavier. the question, "yeah?", albeit sounding rhetoric, was his way of encouraging you to go on. all that came out of your mouth was a low whimper as he continued, soft and slow.

"can i use my tongue now?" he asked.

"you can," you approved. while your voice came out unexpectedly cool and unbothered, you were very much all hot and bothered, as ironic as that was.

he grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before burying his head between your thighs, licking a teasingly slow stripe up your slit. he wanted to lift his head up, ask for reassurance that he was doing good, but the whine that the action prompted from you was a good enough answer for him. besides, if he did that, he was sure that he'd get a scolding for pulling away just barely a second after making you moan - he, probably, also wouldn't have liked that. that just seemed cruel to do.

so, he continued, lapping at your cunt like you were a four course meal and he was a starved man. even with your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands, he wouldn't stop - he couldn't, not until he made you finish.

"that's it," you mumbled, "right there.. god, fuck, m'gonna cum-" you threw your head back against the pillow on your bed once stiles began to thrust his tongue in and out of you, all while watching your eyes roll to the back of your skull. not very platonic - hell, none of this was and never would, nor could, be considered as being platonic.

as if he wasn't being desperate enough by asking his best friend to teach him how to give head, he tugged you closer to him so he could keep going. with a nearly pornographic-sounding moan that he felt guilty about reacting to with a not-so-subtle grind of his hips into the mattress, you came. he licked his lips before pushing himself up.

"good?"

"good," you confirmed.

[blvdheart]

lottie what kinks do u think Leon has lawl 😝

cw: x fem!reader hehe, 400+ wc

i totally didn’t write this during a party what…</3 sorry for any typos cora um i only did it for ID, vendetta, and DI Leon

INFINITE DARKNESS

Okay I can see him coming home with multiple bags of lingerie for his lover, letting you put on a mini fashion show for him. Do a little twirl for him, he’ll have to readjust the bulge in his pants before reaching for you and telling you how fucking pretty you are.

“There’s my perfect girl…so beautiful.” His hands caress your sides, his pupils dilating as he admires you up closely.

Um…he’d be into some light impact play.

Leon would stay fully clothed and put you across his lap, spanking you and massaging your ass to feel how hot your skin gets from his smacks. Pushing your lacy panties to the side to finger you, he’d coo over how wet you get from being spanked. He wouldn’t even have to fuck you or anything, he’d be satisfied just from feeling you jolt around on his lap and feel a high from how speechless you get from having only two of his fingers curling inside you

VENDETTA

His mental state is crumbling and he feels like all his choices are wrong, so I think he’d get turned on by being controlled in bed. Wrap your hands around his neck and cut off his breathing for a couple seconds while you make out and he’ll get rock hard in an instant, begging for you to do it again and again (but his begs sound more like demands honestly.) Um, aside from breath play I think he’d also be a fan of having his orgasms controlled too! Lazy days where you’re stroking his dick until he’s trembling and bucking his hips up into your touch, only to let go as soon as his grunts turn into pathetic moans.

“Fuuuuck, nonono…please.” He’d splutter out while trembling, looking down at the way thin strings of his precum snapped from your palms when you pulled away. “You’re so fucking mean….”

Kiss his sweaty forehead a couple times and he’d forgive you, though. And then his stomach would tense when you wrap your hand around him again to start the process over.

Also! Praise him and he’ll get all emotional. Like…what do you mean he’s doing good? He feels like he doesn’t deserve anything nice so ugh he’ll get sensitive so easily when you compliment him.

DEATH ISLAND

I think we can all collectively agree that he would have a breeding kink at this point in his life >ᴗ< He’s not getting any younger, so sex now has a purpose beyond just connecting with another soul and chasing pleasure together. So yeah he’d have you on your back day and night, stuffing you full as long as you’ll have him. And he’ll plug you up with his fingers after cumming in you so “it takes” (his words) and he’ll get all smiley when you whine and twitch from the aftermath.

Body worship would definitely be high on his list too, both receiving and giving. He’d kiss and caress you all over until no part is left untouched, and honestly dating him in the long run would leave you less susceptible to insecurities because he’s always whispering words of worship to you. He never gets used to the electrifying sensation when you return the favor and plant your lips against his happy trail and inner thighs.

[joonsytip]

Side by Side || Hoshi

Pairings: Hoshi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, mafia boss! Hoshi, cold husband! Hoshi, doctor! Reader, arranged marriage au.

Synopsis: Your marriage to Soonyoung is just a form of convenience to all and you're fed up trying to make things work. So what happens when you start being bratty and it brings out an animalistic side to your cold mafia boss husband?

Warnings: hoshi being the typical cold & rude mafia boss, mafia clan jargon intended, betrayal, reader becomes bratty, couple fights, marriage of convenience, hate sex, angry sex, creampie, choking, biting, marking.

Word Count: 5.5k

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

In the frosty heart of the city, there's a large edifice owned by Soonyoung, a mafia boss, who goes by the alias Hoshi. He is a man of few words and even fewer smiles, a dangerously cold man who rules his criminal empire with an iron fist.

However, even the coldest hearts can take a hit under the circumstances. One day, Soonyoung's advisors come to him with a proposition: an arranged marriage to you, brilliant young physician and the daughter of a powerful ally now, but previously your clan had been prime rival of his clan, things still on the brink of simmering sometimes.

The advisors believe that this union would strengthen Soonyoung's hold on his territory, as your father controlled a large part of the city's medical services and underground capo. Always a man of strategy, Soonyoung agrees to the arrangement, despite his initial lack of interest in matrimony.

The reason, more of the truth is, Soonyoung's empire is under threat from a rival gang and your family has the resources and influence to help turn the tide in his favor. By marrying you, he would secure an alliance that could tip the balance of power in his favor.

Soonyoung has always been a complex man, a man who has built his empire on fear and ruthlessness. But beneath that icy exterior, there is a hint of loneliness and sadness. He has always been a solitary figure, never allowing himself to get close to anyone.

Being an orphan, he was basically raised on the streets of the city. He had learned early on that the world was a cold and unforgiving place. He had made his way up in the criminal underworld, using his cunning tactics and ruthlessness to secure his position as a boss.

To begin with, he had fallen in with a small gang of street thugs and by providing himself as a quick learner, he soon became their leader. It was during this time that he met a seasoned mobster, who recognized his potential and took him under his wing.

Soonyoung's rivals are the Kims, a powerful and ruthless mafia clan who controls a significant part of the city's criminal underworld. They had been feuding with his gang for years over territory, resources, and power.

You, on the contradictory note, are a fiery, independent spirit. You had grown up as the heir of another wealthy and influential mafia clan. Despite your privileged upbringing, you had never allowed yourself to be intimidated by the criminal world that surrounded you.

You had always been a bright and curious child, with a love for learning, excelling in studies, particularly in the field of medicines. Despite your family's objections, you had pursued the medical degree from a prestigious university.

You have seen deaths growing up, so the main reason for becoming a doctor was a way of protesting, while your family killed, you wanted to save lives.

You are shocked on receiving the marriage proposal from Soonyoung's advisors. It's not that you had never expected to be married into another mafia clan but you had never imagined it would be Soonyoung's. You have seen your brothers held at the gunpoint by the said man, in exchange for royalty. Things might look good on the surface but you know better.

So after much discussion and negotiation, you agreed to the marriage. Your family saw it as an opportunity to broker a more prominent peace treaty with Soonyoung's gang.

Though you have agreed to the marriage, your impression of Soonyoung was simple, the leader of the Kwon mafia clan who's ruthless and walks on the blood of people.

You saw this marriage as an opportunity to gain more independence and autonomy within your own family, a chance to make a difference in the criminal underworld by promoting peace and cooperation.

The first time you two meet is at a formal dinner arranged by your family. Though you both are seated next to each other and pleasantries are exchanged, Soonyoung doesn't pay much mind to you.

He is distracted during the dinner, paying more attention to the men of the gang and their discussions, than to you. However as the meal went on, he couldn't help but be drawn to your strength and poise.

Later that evening, when the dinner ends and the guests are leaving, Soonyoung finds himself lingering near you. After much consideration, he asks you to go for a walk in the gardens outside the estate.

As you both walk together in the moonlit gardens, you try to make small talks with him only to meet with dry replies. You can sense the coldness and aloofness in his aura.

His eyes narrow as he asks you bluntly, "So, tell me. Why did you agree to this marriage?

You weren't expecting a blunt question this quick but who are you kidding, it's Soonyoung afterall. Feeling a pang of disappointment, you reply tersely, "My reasons for agreeing to this union are none of your concern. Enough about that, let's return inside."

He seems to ignore your words and continues to press on you, his voice low and rough as he asks, "Do you really think you can handle life with me, as my wife? As the leader's wife?

Soonyoung's sharp tone causes a chill to run down your spine, but you refuse to back down. Meeting his frightening gaze boldly, you reply, "I can handle whatever comes my way, Soonyoung. I am not some delicate flower that will wilt at the first sign of trouble."

His lips quirked into a small smirk at your bold response, his demeanor softening just a little. He couldn't help but admire you for your bravery and strength, and he suddenly feels a desire to know more about you. "Well then..."

He begins to lead you to a secluded part of the garden, away from prying eyes. The moonlight illuminates your path as you both walk together in silence. "I suppose we will have plenty of time to get to know each other once we are married," he says at last with a hint of sarcasm.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he abruptly stops walking and turns to face you. His expression is unreadable as he says, "Y/N, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. Just because we are getting married, it doesn't mean that I will be easy on you."

He continues, "You will be my wife in name only. I expect you to follow my orders, no matter what they are. My position as the leader of our people is everything to me, and nothing, not even you, will ever come before it."

You look at Soonyoung, eyes narrowing as you listen to his harsh words. Despite his warning, you could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and it gives you a hope. "I understand." you say quietly.

Over the next few weeks, you are forced to throw yourself into the preparations for your wedding. The entire city is bustling with activity, but one person seemed to be conspicuously absent - Soonyoung. He sends his men and servants to assist with the preparations but he has not been seen in days.

Despite your frustration, you try not to let it show. You don't want to give your would-be husband the satisfaction of knowing that he is getting under your skin. But as the days turns into weeks, you couldn't help but wonder if he is even going to show up for the wedding.

You try to reach out to Soonyoung numerous times, but never receive a response. You have even sent messengers to his estate, but they all returned with the same message - he is unavailable. You even attempted to visit him herself, but were turned away at the gate.

As the days went on, you couldn't help but rethink your decision to marry Soonyoung. You shouldn't have given the nod, shouldn't have agreed under the pressure of your family because Soonyoung is distant and completely unwilling to let you in. You are compelled, you divert yourself back into your regular routine, living in the hospital dorms just to keep yourself busy and your mind away from all sorts of unpleasant thoughts.

With each passing day, you grow more and more convinced that you have made a mistake. You couldn't shake the feeling that Soonyoung would never truly care for you and that your marriage would be nothing more than a political arrangement.

The day of the wedding arrives. You stand wearing the white gown, looking out at the assembled guests. Your heart feels heavy with doubt and you couldn't help but wonder what your life would have been like if you had followed your heart.

The crowd grows restless as the ceremony draws near and there is still no sign of the groom. You try to push down your growing anxiety but you can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. And then finally, as the sun begins to set, Soonyoung appears.

He looks unapologetic and nonchalant as he strolls towards you with small smile on his lips, seeming completely unfazed by the fact that he has kept his bride waiting and takes your hand without a second thought.

As the vows are exchanged, you feel your doubts grow even stronger. You wonder if you would ever be able to truly accept a man who has so carelessly disrespected you. But for now, you bury those feelings and force yourself to smile, knowing that it was too late to turn back now.

The rest of the wedding day passes in a blur. You go through the motions, dancing and laughing with your guests, all the while feeling a growing sense of emptiness inside. And as the night wears on, you are convinced that you have made a grave mistake.

From the start, Soonyoung's cold demeanor and possessive attitude caused friction between you two. He expects you to cater to his every whim, but you have promised yourself to never be intimidated by his threats and his icy stare.

As newlyweds, you both settle into the honeymoon suite. You feel your heart sink once again because you had hoped that the spark would be reignited once you both were alone, but Soonyoung seems more interested in the bottle than in you.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your eyes fixed on your hands. Your husband stands by the window, nursing a glass of whiskey. The silence is palpable.

"Soonyoung," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "Why did you leave me alone at the altar today?"

Soonyoung turns to face you, his expression unreadable. He takes a long pull from his glass before answering, "I didn't leave you at the altar, if I did then we wouldn't have been married and you wouldn't have been here."

His face hardens as he steps closer to you, "I don't have time for your tears or your theatrics," he snaps, "You knew that this isn't going to be a normal marriage with rainbows and sunshine so stop whining and play your part."

Your eyes are narrow as you stand up to face him, "I may have agreed to this marriage, but I will not be treated like a doormat," you say, your voice is steady and strong, "I am more than just a trophy wife."

Soonyoung sneers at you, his annoyance growing. "Then what are you, Y/N? You're nothing but a foolish woman because you agreed to this marriage knowing there would be no love, no obligations."

Your eyes flash with anger as you bite back with a retort, "Fine. If you want to play the game of cold indifference, then let's see who breaks first."

You take a step closer to him, your voice low and dangerous, "Don't test me, Soonyoung", you warn, "I may not be a man, but I am not as weak as you seem to think. I can give as good as I get.", you reach up and grab a handful of his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric.

Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at your sudden burst of anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a sharp look, "I am done being your doormat", you say, your voice full of fire and determination.

After that night, you both settle into a cold and distant marriage. You live in a lavish mansion but the tension between you both is palpable. But even after the heated word exchange, you tried your best to make the marriage work, but Soonyoung's cold and rude demeanor made it impossible.

You made constant efforts to engage with him. You organized dinners and gatherings, hoping that you'd connect over shared interests. You tried to talk to him about the relationship, expressing your desires for a more loving and supportive partnership.

You also made an effort to spend quality time with Soonyoung. You would plan trips and outings, clearing your schedules, hoping that the time alone would help you both grow closer. You would often try to initiate deep conversations in the hopes that it would melt his cold exterior.

Despite your best efforts, your husband remains the same. He shows no signs of caring for you or reciprocating your affections. The lack of feelings weighed heavily on you.

You try to warn Soonyoung when you discover that he has been secretly meeting with a member of the rival mafia clan. As a doctor, you feel strongly about upholding the law but as his wife, you couldn't help but worry about his safe being.

Soonyoung isn't a fool. He knows what he is doing. He has his own reasons for secretly meeting, whoever he is meeting. He believes that forming an alliance with them would bring more power and wealth to his own clan, securing their position as a dominant force in the criminal underworld but if he fails to coax them to form an ally then he'd finish the whole clan.

"You don't understand the ways of the mafia, my dear wife. I do what needs to be done, whether you approve or not.", he answers you.

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into," you plead, your hands gripping his arms in desperation. "The rival clan is ruthless and they will stop at nothing to take us down."

Soonyoung's expression hardens as he pulls his arms out of your grip. "You don't trust me to handle this, do you?" he accuses, his voice full of rage, "I am the leader of this clan, and I know what I'm doing."

Suddenly, Soonyoung's expression darkens as he looks at you, "You have a secret it seems," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Is there something you're hiding from me because how the hell did you know that I'm meeting the people of rival clan?"

Your eyes flash with defiance as you walk out of the room, leaving Soonyoung standing there. You couldn't believe he would accuse you of hiding something from him even after she have just warned him about the danger. He seems to have forgotten that you too belong to a powerful mafia clan.

Since that day, your relationship becomes more strained as you both stopped speaking to each other. Soonyoung is always staking out doing something you don't care about anymore and you sort to spending more time at hospital.

Your heart stops, one night, as you see Soonyoung walk into the home, his clothes soaked in blood. You run to him, your hands reaching out to touch him, to make sure he is okay.

"What happened?", you ask, eyes scanning his body.

Soonyoung's voice is distant as he speaks, "It's not my blood." he says, pushing your hands away. "I killed someone before he could kill me."

Your eyes wander before you look at him. Something about his story doesn't add up. You step closer, studying his face and see the faint traces of tears in his eyes, "Soonyoung," you say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "What really happened?"

Soonyoung's reaction takes you by surprise but you don't let it deter you. You follow him quietly to your shared bedroom, watching as he collapses on the bed. "Soonyoung," you repeat, your voice softer now, "Tell me the truth."

Soonyoung lets out a sigh as he turns to face you. He looks into your eyes, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you any longer, "I had planted a mole, one of my trusted men in their gang.", he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, "He got caught by them and was already dead when I found him."

Soonyoung hesitates, taking a deep breath before continuing, "If I had arrived a bit earlier, I could have saved him. But I got a hold of some of them and killed them all.", he turns away, his voice filled with regret.

Your concern for your husband overpowers any disappointment you have in him. You move closer to him, your hands gently examining his body for any injuries. "Are you hurt? Is that your blood?"

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with pain, "Yes," he whispers, "I was stabbed."

He lifts his shirt, revealing a long wound on his side. You gasp, your hands immediately going to the wound as you inspect it.

You quickly grab some bandages and disinfectant from the first aid kit and carefully clean the wound before wrapping it up, making sure it is clean and protected. "We need to get you to a hospital," you say firmly, "This needs stitches."

He grabs your hand and tells you that he can't.

You frown at his response, but you don't let it deter you, "Soonyoung, this is serious," you say, trying to keep the worry out of your voice, "You need medical attention."

Soonyoung shakes his head, his grip on your hand tightening.

His actions cut through you like a knife, "I don't need your help", he spats out, his voice filled with anger and frustration, "Just leave me alone." He pulls his hand away from yours, turning his back on you as he tries to hide the pain in his eyes.

You know that he needs medical attention and you are not going to let him suffer any longer. Gathering up your sewing kit and some painkillers, you approach him again.

You sit down next to him, carefully cleaning and numbing the wound before starting to stitch it up. The entire process is painful and tense, with Soonyoung gritting his teeth and occasionally flinching as the needle goes in.

You don't receive a thanks, rather you receive an ultimatum to never interfere in his matters again.

As the weeks went by, you both grew more distant. You'd only see each other in the bedroom that too occasionally and your conversations are always short and perfunctory. As demanded by your husband, you have finally stopped caring about his matters.

Soonyoung bursts into the mansion one evening, his face red with anger. He has heard something he couldn't believe. He shouts out your name, closing in on you as you sat on the couch.

Your confusion turns into fear as you see the anger in his eyes.

"You dated Minho.", he declares, gritting his teeth, "The son of Kim's, the next boss of their clan."

You hadn't expected him to find out about your brief relationship with the rival gang member. Your voice is stern when you say, "I did date him, but it was years ago when we were both in college. But I broke up with him as soon as I found out who his family was. I never would do anything hurtful for my family or the people I care for."

Soonyoung has been boiling the entire time, he is frustrated, he is mad. So he hurls some insults at you and you do too. The fight has turned into something else entirely. You both are overwhelmed with emotion.

"What kind of man doesn't want his wife?", you yell at him, "Maybe I should go back to Minho, at least he would treat me better."

At this point you're saying anything and everything to bottle out your frustration.

"So you want me to treat you as my wife?", Soonyoung turns calm suddenly, his tone low, "You want me to want you?"

And before you both know it, the anger has turned into something darker and more primal.

Soonyoung reaches you in long strides and kisses you by grabbing your head.

He backs you to the bedroom, lips still connected. One gaze after he pulls away and the tension snaps. You both rip each other's clothes off, your bodies colliding in a rough wave.

You bodies now move in a desperate rhythm, each thrust and grind a testament to the months of frustration and pent-up desire that had been building between the you of you. Soonyoung's hands roamed all over your body, gripping your hips, pulling your hair and squeezing your breasts roughly.

His voice is low and rough as he speaks into your mouth, "You're mine, Y/N.", he says, his hips pistoning into yours, "I can't get enough of you, even when I hate you for speaking of some other man when I was infront of you just because you were feigning for some touch. I'll show that I could all and above."

You meet his intensity with your own. You claw at his back, leaving red marks on his skin as you scream out your own frustration, "I'm not yours, Soonyoung," you spat, "I never was."

You buck your hips, meeting his thrusts with equal ferocity, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body is aching with pleasure and pain because of the roughness.

"You're just a means to an end," you say with a feral glint in your eyes. "You always were."

Soonyoung's lips curl in a savage smile as he hears your words. He grips your hips tighter and slams into you harder, the headboard banging against the wall with each thrust, "I'll make sure you never forget me then."

His hand wraps around your throat, not enough to choke you but enough to assert dominate. He leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he sucks and bites at your neck, marking you as his, "Happy to finally get what you wanted?"

Your breath hitches as his hand tightens around you throat but you don't back down. You meet his gaze with a fierce glare, your fingers digging into his back deeper as you hold on, "I'll always be a thorn in your side."

Soonyoung chuckles darkly, his hand finally releasing your throat, now placing it on your hips again, pulling you closer to him as he thrusts deeper, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

In response, you wrap your legs around him and meet each of his thrusts with one of your own, your bodies slapping together in a heated dance.

His eyes darken with desire as he continues to thrust, the two of you getting lost in a wild and animalistic rhythm. He reaches down rubbing your clit, causing you to moan loudly as you come undone beneath him.

Feeling you clenching around him as you came, Soonyoung couldn't hold back any longer. He thrusts into you a few more times before spilling himself inside of you, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he releases everything he had.

But even as he holds you close to him, he knows that your relationship would never be simple. You are fiery and independent, a woman who would always challenge him and keep him on his toes. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

You lay in Soonyoung's arms, your body still trembling and humming with pleasure. You have never felt so alive, so free. You have always been a thorn in his side, always pushing back against him, never making it easy for him.

But in this moment, as you lay together, bodies still entwined, you couldn't help but feel something more for your husband. You aren't sure if it is love, or just a deep and primal attraction, but you know that you have found something special in him.

And so, as the night wore on, you and Soonyoung lay there, holding each other tightly.

But eventually, the night had to end. The first light of dawn begins to break over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the room as you wake up to an empty bed.

And as the sun continues to rise, you both go back to your usual ways, each pretending to be indifferent to the other. But deep down, you both know that something has changed between you both, that you are no longer just enemies, but something more complicated and unpredictable.

And so, as the days passed and the war raged on, you both find yourselves drawn to each other again and again, your fiery chemistry impossible to resist. You fought and fucked, through it all, never not craving each other's touch.

Another such episode comes when you storm into Soonyoung's office, your eyes blazing with anger. You had a long, shitty day at the hospital so you are here, into the vicinity of your husband, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

As soon as you see him, sitting there behind his desk, claded in a fitting suit, all your other thoughts go into the gutter. You couldn't help but feel a deep, primal desire for him. And from the look in his eyes, you could tell that he felt the same way.

Soonyoung's jaw clenches on seeing you and he couldn't help but let his anger show, "What the hell do you want?", he snarls, standing up and slamming his fists on the desk, "How dare you barge into my office?Can't you see I'm busy?"

Your eyes narrow and you let out a low, dangerous laugh, "Oh, I see", you say, sauntering towards him with a seductive sway in your hips, "I thought you'd be busy jerking yourself off to the thought of me."

Soonyoung lets out a laugh as his control snaps. He reaches out and grabs you, pulling you towards him before turning you over and bending over the desk, his hands roughly gripping your hips as he grinds himself against you.

You gasp as his hands roam over your clothed body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't resist. You moan as he presses himself against you, your body craving his touch despite everything, "Fuck me, Soonyoung."

His voice is low and rough as he leans in close to your ear, "You want me to fuck you, my wife?" he growls, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, "You've been begging for it since the moment you walked in here."

Your smirk turns into a gasp as he turns you around again, hands ripping your clothes. His gaze marvels at you in nothing your lingerie before tearing them as well, revealing your naked body to him. You swear under your breath as the cool air hits your skin, but it's quickly replaced with the heat of Soonyoung's touch.

"You're a fucking animal."

Soonyoung's only response is a guttural growl as he lifts you onto the desk, spreading you legs and entering harshly into you without hesitation. Your hands work on undressing him as he thrusts in. The sound of the bodies slapping against each other fills the room, along with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

The heat of your bodies is overwhelming and your head falls back as you surrender to the pleasure that your husband is giving you. The pain of his rough treatment mixed with pleasure and you find yourself moaning loudly, scratching at his back as he continues to rearrange your insides.

His thrusting never slows as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "You like that, don't you? Being treated like the filthy slut you are."

Your glare turns into a snarl as you grab Soonyoung's throat, your fingers digging into his skin. "Shut up and fuck me harder.", you growl through gritted teeth. Your grip tightens around his neck as you pull him closer, your faces inches apart.

Soonyoung snickers at your response, the smirk never wavering, "With pleasure, my dirty little whore," he responds with a chuckle before kissing you passionately.

"You're damn right, I am." you say pulling away, your grip tightening even more, "Now fuck me like the animal you are."

You pull him down for another rough and bruising kiss, refusing to let go as your bodies collide in a mess of sweat and heat.

He breaks the kiss, a triumphant smirk on his face as his thrust takes animalistic speed.

Your moans and his grunts of pleasure, floods the rooms. You bite on his shoulder blade, leaving an angry red mark as you hold on and let him ravage her body.

Soonyoung's thrusts became more erratic as he feels his orgasm building up within him, ready to spill. Your body shakes with pleasure, the two of you reaching the climax together.

He pulls out of you and collapses onto you, panting and covered in sweat, "Fuck," he says with a grin.

"You're wild.", you glare at him, but a smirk of your own forms as you try to push him off you.

Soonyoung slides off and stretches, his muscles aching from the exertion of your passionate encounter.

"You think that was good just because you could keep up with me?", you laugh with a seductive smirk on your lips, "I've fucked better and rougher."

Soonyoung flexes his muscles, a smug grin on his face, "Well, I guess it was a good thing for you then, wasn't it?" he shot back, pushing your buttons with ease.

You roll your eyes but couldn't keep the smile off your face.

"You know what?", you say as you hop off the table, "Keep telling yourself that.", you start walking towards the bathroom, "I'll take a shower first, wanna join?"

You look down at your torn clothes and laugh with a playful glint in her eye, "Well, looks like I'll be walking out of here naked", and look over at your husband with a smirk, "I guess you want all your men to see me like this."

Soonyoung's temper flares at the thought of all the men in the office seeing his wife naked. He quickly follows you into the bathroom with a fierce determination on his face.

"Fuck no." he mutters to himself and turns you around to face him.

He cups your face and looks deeply into your eyes, "You're mine and I won't share you with anyone.", he says possessively, a fierce protectiveness in his gaze, "So, either put on my spare clothes or wait till I get you something to wear."

Your eyes flashed with a hint of defiance as you shrug off in hold, "I don't care if anyone sees me naked.", you snip to rile him up.

Soonyoung steps closer, "If you let another man look at this state of yours whether or not I'm around, I will rip them apart," he growls.

And he doesn't waste any time. His carnal instincts takes over once again so you are now bent her over the bathroom counter, his hands gripping your hips as he plunges into you from behind as he fucks with a wild abandon.

The bathroom was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the slick slap of the bodies. His fingers dug into your hips as he thrust deep inside you, his lips pressing a savage kiss to your shoulder, "Mine."

Your head falls back, breath hitching as Soonyoung hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you, "Yes.", you gasp, "All yours."

As your orgasm subsides for the second time, Soonyoung gently pulls out of you and turns you to face him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, "I mean it," he murmurs, "You're mine."

You are taken aback by this sudden affectionate gesture. You hadn't expected tenderness from him after your rough session earlier. You look up at him and smile softly, a strange warmth spreading through your chest, "I'm yours, Soonyoung.", you repeat, your voice softer this time.

Your husband smiles back and tilts your head up so he can see you better. He looks into your eyes, his own softening as he sees the sincerity in your gaze., "And I'm yours.", he whispers before leaning in and kissing you softly.

You have already melted the icy shield and Soonyoung thinks it's time he starts to show that he can be sincere, that he too wants this marriage to work.

Urgent knocks on the office door makes Soonyoung scrumbling out of the bathroom, searching for his clothes in a hurry. He knows that the pattern of those knocks always meant some trouble.

Just as he goes to open the door, he hears the clanking of the gun and turns back only to feel the metal being pressed on the skin of his forehead.

"Hey, Hoshi.", you smile at your husband condescendingly, holding him at the gunpoint.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

[456-is-the-way]

Hi! I was wondering if you if you could do a smutty In-ho x fem! Reader x Gi-Hun. Something along the line of they are both pining and see each other go to talk to reader alone and decide to wait. In-ho talks to her during lights out and Gi-hun talks to her doing mingle. In the final fight, she goes with either in-ho or Gi-hun and the stand of at the end, ends with them deciding to truce for a moment and share reader.

A/n: OMG A smutty story with both the hottest daddies!? Yet people keep the requests coming because I have many more to write! I hope to post at least 3 stories a week only because I am returning to my job after my holiday vacation! ALSO regarding the TAGLIST IDK why it won't let me add people like some it won't bring their name up SO I am not sure how to fix that RIP Im sorry y'all!!! ALSO, late tonight or tomorrow my part 1 of my 4-part Gi-Hun story is coming out!! (Hints of In-ho x reader) will also be in the story! Next week I'll have 3 more requests stories done!

Trigger warning: SMUT

Squid Game Masterlist

In-ho x Reader x Gi-hun

Love and War

Being in the games was the last thing (Y/n) was expecting, or at least in a life-or-death situation. She took a breath, looking over the group she was lucky enough to be in. Gi-hun did not hide the looks in her direction. Her (e/c) orbs meet his. (Y/n) could feel her cheeks warm up as Gi-hun winked. She turned away, looking at the ground quickly. How could two people be so obvious in their lustful looks? Their group quickly picked up on their subtle hints, flirtatious works, mindful touches, and lustful gazes. However, it sparked a rivalry between Gi-hun and his newfound friendship with Young-Il. The other gentleman also expressed his feelings towards (Y/n), which did not go unnoticed. (Y/n) happily reciprocated the attention she received from both of these handsome bachelors. It was lights out, and as normal, their group gathered in one spot, taking turns on night shift duty. Many thought of them as one of the strongest teams for now. In-ho sighed deeply as he was woken by Jung-bae. “Your turn.” He whispered. In-ho only responded with a grunt getting up to take his place by (Y/n). In-ho looked over her figure. It honestly pained him to lie to (Y/n) of all people. While scouting for participants, he would collect all their data and reasoning for poor financial situations. He never showed favor or pity towards anyone until now. Why did it have to be her of all people?

“I can take watch by myself if you need me to. I want you to have all the rest. Especially for the next challenge… I am nervous to find out what it may be.” In-ho whispered. She gave him such a warm and loving smile. In-ho had not felt butterflies like this in his stomach in so long the feeling was almost foreign. The way her eyes would almost sparkle while gazing into his. In-ho felt his breath be taken away every time.

“No, I won't allow you to not have a partner. We agreed on pairs of two. I am going to be fine. I could say the same for you, Young-Il.” She gazed into his eyes and before anything else could be said In-ho leaned in kissing her deeply. (Y/n) gasped but did not pull back once his warm lips dominated hers. In-ho cupped her cheek before letting his hand trail down squeezing her beast. “W-Wait.” Her voice seemed weak from the desire but quickly In-ho stopped all his advances.

“Fuck (Y/n) I am so sorry if I hurt you.” His eyes showed nothing but absolute worry.

“Young-Il, you didn’t hurt me. I just. We cant I-”

“You love Gi-hun. Don’t you?” He asked.

She looked away rubbing her temples. “I am unsure who I like. I have feelings for you both but if we act out on them… If you or him dies I would never be able to get over your death, or is..” She leans against In-ho resting on his shoulder.

“I understand…I love you.”

“I… I love you as well.” (Y/n) whispered cuddling into him.

….

After the night the next game had started early that morning, and (Y/n) had not been expecting what was to come. As the game commenced it felt very intense making sure the groups had the correct amount of people in each room. They even teamed up with new players they clicked with instantly. As it began getting lower in numbers for each door (Y/n) became nervous. She felt Gi-hun grab her hand gently. “I got you.” He whispered. Once the merry-go-round stopped and the number was ‘2’ he instantly took off with her ultimately forgetting about any of the others. Even shamelessly (Y/n) did not even look back for In-ho. Once in the room the door instantly shut. The female leaned against the wall as Gi-hun was breathing heavily on the other side of the room, “Gi-hun, are you okay?”

Gi-hun did not bother to answer before walking over to (Y/n) and kissing her deeply. The female lets a shaken moan out as their bodies are pressed against each other. His hands hold her waist before lowering down her backside and cupping her ass. “G…Gi-hun, babe, we cant.” Her body was on fire for this handsome older man.

“You love me… I know you do.” He let you go resting his forehead against yours.

“I…I do love you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. I can’t be with you Gi-hun. I wont risk getting attached-”

“Is it because of Young-Il? Is that the true reason? I heard you both talking last night. I know you have feelings for him of some kind… I want to know if he-”

“No, my love it's not because of Young-Il… I care for you both but if I got too attached and lost either of you I… I wouldn't be able to ever move on.” When the doors unlocked she took his hand, “Talk later okay?”

Gi-hun nods walking out as their hand in hand. In-ho instantly noticed and sent a glare at Gi-hun who met his gaze with a stronger one.

…

(Y/n) was soaked in her friend's blood as she was on her knees. Gi-hun and Jung-Bae beside her on their knees. In front of them stood a man who organized the games. With a quick hand motion from the man in the black mask, Jung-Bae was pulled away. Gi-hun went to help but a gun was quickly pulled out.

“Don’t” (Y/n) begged, tearing up. Her eyes widen as the gun slowly is lowered.

“I love you (Y/n).” The Front Man whispered she glared into his eyes.

“I hate you.” She glared. In-ho took a moment before removing his mask. Both (Y/n) and Gi-hun gave his a look showing all their bundled up emotions. “You… are the Frontman. HOW COULD YOU!” (Y/n) cried loudly .

In-ho leans down, “My real name is In-ho, I joined yes, but I never expected to fall in love with you! Please… Let me have you before anything else happens… Gi-hun.” He turned to his friend who reluctantly nodded they both desired you and that over powered all current feeling. The triangle guard let Gi-hun free before leaving.

“Please lets forget about all of this. For a few moments.” Gi-hun adds agreeing with In-ho. What felt like eternity she agrees.

Gi-hun instantly pulled her against his frame smashing their lips together. In-ho kneels down pressing against her back side kissing up (Y/n)’s neck. The female moaned loudly into the kiss as her body is sandwiched between theirs. “Fuck.” She gasped as Gi-hun trailed down to the other side of her neck. In-ho proceeded to slides his large hands under her shirt cupping her bare breasts. Her nipples already were hard. “Ngh! (Y/n) whined as he pinch them roughly pulling her buds harshly.

“Take her shirt off.” In-ho growled.

“Slide her pants down.” Gi-hun adds. (Y/n) had no time to react before her shirt was being lifted and sweatpants pulled down swiftly. Once practically naked she puts a hand on their bulges rubbing both men. They let out a shaken groan each, Gi-hun’s voice held a submissive tone while In-ho growled dominantly. Their already hardening cocks were at full attention. Gi-hun’s leaking precum at the tip. In-ho leans his forhead against (Y/n)’s shoulder cock twitching as she worked both touch starved men.

“F-Fuck I’m close.” Gi-hun whined.

In-ho chuckled,” Baby slow down before he blows a load in your hands. Let us inside of you.”

“MMmm… But will b-both fit?” She asked inhaling as Gi-hun reached down feeling her soaking wet panties.

“Fuck you are soaked honey. Did jerking us off turn you on that much?.. Yes dear we will both fit.”

(Y/n) nods and spreads her legs, In-ho nods to Gi-hun, She arches, feeling both their cocks brushing her entrance. “AHH FUCK Gi-hun. In-ho!~” (Y/n) was held up by the men who began roughly thrusting into her tight and warm pussy.

“Fuck baby you are tight.” “Your pussy was made for your us.” “Going to fill you up.”

Both of their praises made the knot tighten inside of her. “FUCK!” She cried out as their cock meet the perfect rythem until she felt the euphoria hit all at once. Her pussy clams down making both men cum deep inside. The three now lay there panting in pleasure. (Y/n) closed her eyes.

“I love you both.” Her voice is strained. Gi-hun instantly responsed with a quick ‘I love you back’ .

In-ho sighed deeply kissing her cheek knowing nothing would be the same after this. He loved her too much.

[hannieehaee]

NEED TO KNOW (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: with jungkook's lifelong crush also came an aversion to dating anyone who wasn't you. but what would happen when the poor lovesick boy came crying into your arms after finally giving a chance to what turned to be a disastrous date?

content: virgin!jungkook, f2l!jungkook, loser!jk, sub!jk, college au, jk is insanely socially awkward and shy, kook is touch starved, afab reader, smut, dry humping, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 612 (teaser); 10k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: november 26th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: picture 21 year old jungkook for this hehe<3

masterlist | patreon

Jungkook often found himself feeling like his life was one of those very shitty romcoms.

Except he had never really felt like the heartthrob, or even like he was the one getting swept off his feet.

No, his experience was more closely aligned with the loser virgin who was tossed aside so the star-crossed lovers could find their way to each other. This was just how it had always been.

Jungkook had watched most of his friends find love with a person he could easily consider their soulmate. He was a romantic at heart, after all. These things were not difficult for him to spot.

He often wondered when his turn would come, except it just never did.

Being one for romance was seemingly not for the weak, as Jungkook found himself passing yet another year as a lovesick fool hoping to find that perfect someone to finally look his way.

Scratch that. Many people looked his way. Even as a self-proclaimed loser, Jungkook received plenty of attention from boys and girls alike. Looks were often thrown his way, but they were never the looks he wanted to receive.

Sure, he could easily reciprocate the appreciation he received for his looks. He could smile back, maybe even ask for their number and then see where it all led afterwards.

Except that Jungkook needed the romance. He needed to be swept off his feet (or maybe the reverse, it depended on his mood). Jungkook needed a soulmate.

It all just became eternally more complicated when Jungkook insisted on having that person be you.

That and the fact that Jungkook was slightly, how to put it, socially inept. He was shy, anxious, unable to read social cues, and basically just an overall mess. But the worst of all was his undying crush on you, this he knew.

It was a tale as old as time. Falling for your best friend, pining after them for years, hoping one day they'd turn around and realize you'd been here all along. And now on year nine of knowing you, it still hadn't happened. Jungkook remained a sad, lonely virgin awaiting for you to grant his romcom wish and make him into the love interest.

It didn't really help how painfully socially awkward Jungkook was. Truly, he was surprised you'd stuck by his side for this long despite that. There was no way Jungkook would ever want to risk ruining your current relationship in favor of something he knew would never work out. You did not like him back, these past nine years made him very well aware of that.

And so, as a result, his friends had the grand idea of setting him up.

Not once, not twice, but countless times.

However, Jungkook being Jungkook, never agreed to it. Not once had his friends been able to reel him out of his dorm long enough to entrap him into a date.

Jungkook simply saw no point in it. Blind dates were the complete antithesis of Jungkook's beliefs about romance. He needed a connection before even considering entering a romantic relationship. The thought of going on a date with someone he'd never met before unnerved him to no end.

Plus, he was convinced no one would ever actually like him past his looks. There had been far too many instances of him being on the receiving end of insults to his personality or not-so-subtle stink eyes thrown his way. To have that happen to him whilst on a blind date was just a huge no.

Jungkook found himself stuck in an endless limbo. A loveless, endless limbo as he pined after the one person he could never have.

...

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