#and no i have not finished the series yet LMAO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madaqueue · 4 months ago

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next chapter tomorrow >:)

eternally, yours

chapter 7 | servitude

synopsis: 'forever' is a peculiar concept - how can something persist, unchanged, throughout time? when our bodies halt their aging, do our minds continue to evolve? do our hearts? choso was comfortable with his version of forever, one of solitary loneliness; that is, until he meets you. forced to confront the harsh realities of being human, the fragility of life, his definition of 'forever' changes as he stares down the barrel of eternity.

pairing: vampire!choso kamo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au. fluff, angst, smut. language, mentions of death/loss, mentions of blood, oral (f receiving). 18+, MDNI

word count: 6.3k

a/n: sorry this took me AGES lmao been in a real gojo brainrot moment the past few weeks but i hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me xoxo

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Choso is a patient man. Part of it is innate, sure, but more than that, his patience was carefully crafted, curated through experience. He was made into the man he is today, a good man. But even good men get pushed to their limits.

Which is why he has moments where it takes everything in him not to scream; he wants to grab anyone who dares to walk past him by the shoulders, nails digging into their skin, and force them to listen. He wants to create a captive audience, any outlet for the unfamiliar feelings constantly bubbling over inside of him, a volcano threatening to erupt. It’s too hot, too violent.

Sometimes, he thinks there must be something other than blood coursing through your veins - something mysterious, something addicting. That’s why he can’t stop thinking about you, that’s why his heart pounds and hands shake when he’s with you.

Since the day he met you, you have slowly overtaken his soul, his thoughts, his very being, watering the garden of his life until it’s overgrown. He would profess his love to every person who could hear it, a proclamation of his undying dedication. Every moment without you he feels empty, as though a piece of his soul is missing, only completed when your warmth bleeds into his.

And you, you don’t seem to notice; or, at least you don’t mind if you do. It’s peaceful, to blend into another person like this, to let him see you and be seen by you. Of course there are hurdles, but he easily lifts you over them without a second thought, letting you run forward into the future together.

One recurring challenge you’ve come to note is his diet. As winter settles, the two of you become increasingly creative to work around the less tasteful components of vampirism, the primary one haunting the back of your thoughts: blood. He’s always careful to avoid letting you see him feed, rinsing any remaining crimson from his teeth before rejoining your company. Outings to restaurants become increasingly exhausting, growing tired of explaining to strangers that he just “isn’t hungry.” Instead, you opt to stay inside under the comfort of your home, simply content in each other’s company. It’s easier here, there are fewer risks, it’s safer, both for you and him.

Which is why it comes as a surprise when Choso arrives at your apartment one morning after his overnight hospital shift, letting himself in with the key you had given him a few weeks ago out of ease due to his disruptive work schedule, grinning ear to ear. “I have an idea,” he whispers as he climbs under the covers of your bed, careful to not jostle you as you rouse yourself from sleep.

“Oh?” you murmur, tiredness still clouding your vision as you rub your eyes.

“It’s a surprise,” he smiles, “but whenever you’re awake enough, get yourself ready, and wear something cute.” Nuzzling into you, he wraps his arms around your waist, heat radiating off your body. “Oh, and warm,” he remembers before pulling himself away. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your head, “love you.”

“Love you,” you hum as your eyes flutter closed, the depths of sleep pulling you back. The bed shifts as Choso removes himself from it, rustling echoing through your apartment before you hear your front door close again as he leaves.

You’re awoken again a few hours later to the sweet scent of coffee hitting your nose, Choso’s deep voice humming some song you don’t quite recognize from the kitchen. As the sheets rustle beneath your movements, he suddenly appears at your side, a sweet grin plastered across his face. “G’morning,” he whispers, gently kissing your forehead. Your skin is warm under his lips, his cool fingers resting against your cheeks still flushed from sleep. Setting down a mug atop your bedside table, he continues, “I got your favorite from that coffee shop down the street.”

You tiredly smile up at him, his small acts of devotion a consistent light in your life. Every chance he gets to show you how much he thinks of you he takes, your presence a constant hum in the back of his mind, every thought punctuated with you.

Slowly rising, he never leaves your side as you get ready, his arms wrapped around you while you brush your teeth, his fingers lazily combing through your hair as you style it, his lips trailing every bare inch of your skin as you get dressed.

When you finally pull on a sweater and skirt, fuzzy socks lining your calves, he feels his heart flutter in his chest. Absolute, utter perfection. There’s a softness to you, a tenderness that resides within your body. It contrasts his sharpness, the harsh edges he’s been forced to develop; every moment with you he feels them wearing away, dulling into a gentleness he’s never known. Yet, one he has grown to crave.

Walking hand-in-hand through the snow-covered city, his grand surprise is revealed as he leads you to a small lake hidden behind brick facades of unfamiliar buildings. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue down the thin gravel path until you’re met with a freshly-shoveled bench along the outskirts of the pond. Setting the gym bag that had been slung over his shoulder onto the ground, he gestures for you to sit. Complying, he unzips one of the side compartments, revealing a crisp, white pair of ice skates.

“May I?” he asks with a hesitant smile, placing the skates onto the ground. A grin tugs at your lips as you nod, a blush forming across your cheeks. He planned this? When did he have the time to find this place, to prepare all of this? Removing your boots he replaces them with the ice skates, meticulously tying them snugly up to your ankles.

Kneeling on the ground he pulls out another pair, black and much less pristine, as he settles next to you on the bench. Lacing up his own skates, he rises, holding his hand out to you. As your fingers intertwine with his, the coolness of his skin sends a shiver through your spine.

“Oh,” he hums as his gaze covers your body, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he rummages through them. When he pulls them out, they hold something unfamiliar: small black and orange packets rest in each palm. Closing his hands into fists he shakes them before rejoining his fingers with yours. Heat pricks at your skin where your palms rest against his, your fingers interlaced between the mysterious objects as understanding suddenly clicks.

“Hand-warmers?” you ask, tightening your grip around them as warmth courses through your body.

Choso nods. “I saw them at the store and figured I’d pick some up.” Joy exudes from him as a lopsided grin plays across his face. “And now we can hold hands without me getting you cold.”

He seems almost giddy as you rise from the bench, guiding you to the frozen lake. You’re too lost in the simple happiness of the moment to recall your utter lack of experience with ice skating, until the ground suddenly falls from under you as your skates slide against the ice, landing you flat on your ass.

As the shock settles, both you and Choso erupt into a fit of laughter. The frozen ground is cold under your skirt, forcing you to attempt to stand before slipping and falling forward onto your knees.

“Okay, okay, I got you,” Choso chuckles, extending his arms for you to grab. Pulling yourself up, you manage to stabilize yourself enough to temporarily balance. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he holds you in place.

“Don’t laugh,” you dramatically pout, “I’ve never done this before!”

“That’s why I’m gonna teach you,” he smiles, pulling you closer into him. “Just trust me, okay? I’ve got you.”

The next few hours are spent with your hands tightly gripped around his arms as he coaxes you across the ice. Eventually you learn how to stand on your own without slipping and can even manage a few glides forward. The sun begins to hang low in the sky as evening settles, casting a warm glow over the small lake.

“Okay, you ready?” Choso prompts, skating backwards slightly and holding his arms out.

You nod, determined, as you lock your gaze ahead. Pushing off on one foot, the blade carves through the ice - your ankle wavers, but just in time you place your other skate down, catching yourself. Another push, and you land in Choso’s waiting embrace through an excited cheer.

“I did it, I did it!” you exclaim through giggles, throwing your arms into the air. He effortlessly lifts you up, twirling you around on the ice.

“I’m so proud of you,” he exhales through a grin, still holding you above him.

Gingerly setting you down, his heart feels full as the setting sun reflects golden hues off your face. Pulling you into him, his lips crash into yours, a familiar hunger behind his motions as lust overtakes him. Before you realize it, the cool brick of one of the surrounding buildings hits your back as his hands roam your body.

“I’m so proud of you, you’re so talented, so strong,” he murmurs praises against your skin as his lips trail down your neck. Searing kisses light his path as he moves, covering every exposed inch of you in his love.

Warmth begins to spread inside you as his fingertips slowly make their way up your thighs, his palms groping at the soft flesh of your ass. He easily hoists you into the air, your legs wrapping around him as he pushes you further up the wall behind you. Struggling to balance yourself, your hands land on his shoulders as he adjusts lower and lower until he’s settled in between your legs, calves dangling in the air as you carefully position the blades away from his back.

Wet kisses tingle up your inner thighs as he draws closer and closer to where you need him, but hesitation overtakes you as you struggle to keep your skates from piercing him. Sensing your apprehension, the hand against your calf pushes you against him as he murmurs into you, “It’s okay, you won’t hurt me.”

Recollection floods your thoughts: oh, right - the inhumane strength, impenetrable flesh. Tentatively, you lower your legs as they rest against his shoulders, allowing yourself to pull him closer.

There’s an awe behind his gaze, a gratitude to whatever gods of fate blessed him with you. Sometimes, he still can’t believe it, that you’re his, that he’s yours. As he slowly makes his way closer to your aching cunt, his eyes land on the wet patch forming against your panties: he still can’t believe you get this wet, all for him. Finally, his head ducks under your skirt, placing gentle kisses against your clothed core.

“Cho, please,” you whine, lowering your hands into his hair to tug him into you.

And that’s all he needs to hear. Hot breath hits your cunt as he exhales contentedly, willingly acquiescing to your shared desires. With one hand he pulls your soaked panties aside, easily supporting you with one arm. You mewl as he licks a slow stripe up your slick folds, the cool air biting against the heat of your skin.

“So perfect,” he breathes into you, “s’soft, s’pretty.” Everything about you seems crafted by the heavens, perfectly melded, all for him. He’s lost in you, in your thoughts, in your body. It intoxicates him as he allows himself to fade into the quiet hum of your soul.

A soft giggle escapes your throat at his lust-drunk praises, the sound transforming into a moan as his lips attach to your clit. Reflexively, your heels dig into his back, serrated skates piercing his clothes. Choso groans at the slight pain lighting a fire beneath his skin.

Two opposing senses, the hot and cold, soft and sharp, overwhelm his body in a blissful haze. As your grip in his dark hair tightens, the stinging air burning his lungs, he finds respite in the oxygen-deprived space between your thighs.

Nothing had ever, and could ever, truly harm him. Blades can’t scratch the surface of his skin, but as they dig through the denim of his jacket, they attack like cold pinpricks of rain. And it feels so, so fucking good - refreshing, almost. A part of his desire claws its way out, begging you to hurt him, begging you to try.

Shared moans fill the air as your back arches off the brick wall behind you, grinding your hips against his tongue as he flicks over your sensitive folds. Gliding his tongue into your aching entrance you gasp, cold air filling your senses against the burning fire of lust within you.

He babbles incoherently into you, muffled proclamations of his love etching into your core. Heat begins to fill your body, your cheeks flushing, chest warming as tension builds in your abdomen.

“C’mon, pretty,” Choso murmurs into you, a quiet plea. “Let go, lemme feel ya.”

Picking up his pace, his tongue relentlessly circles your clit, alternating between needy suction and patient motions of the wet muscle against you. Despite the flurries of snow beginning to fall and swirl around you, all you can feel is hot.

Grabbing into his hair, your skates dig into his shoulders as you come undone. Through whines of pleasure, he greedily laps at every ounce of your essence, his hot breath fanning across your skin. So fucking good.

After a moment, both of his hands return to your hips, adjusting your weight to gently lower you to the ground. Legs shaking beneath you, your arms instinctively reach over his shoulders as he holds you up, a smug grin on his face overcompensating for his blown-out pupils and flushed cheeks. As he leans in to kiss you, the taste of you still lingering on his lips, warm air fills the space between you.

“I’m so proud of you,” he hums into you through a grin.

As the haze of your ecstasy finally begins to clear, you muster your strength to respond. “For the ice skating?”

“Amongst other things,” he smirks, pressing his lips against yours once again.

Admiration swells in his heart as you walk home, fingers intertwined over the heat of his newly-purchased hand warmers. Everyday you surprise him with your dedication, your talent; yet, you remain unendingly humble. He’s never seen you brag, never boasted about your immeasurable smarts, kindness, or strength. So of course, he takes it upon himself to do it for you, singing your praises at every opportunity.

Just as you’ve changed him - allowing him to soften, to find comfort and love in his life - he’s begun to change you. Hearing his compliments, receiving his veneration, you almost start to believe him, believe that maybe there is something special about you. To date, your life has been filled with service to others, prioritizing caring for your family, but maybe you hold your own unique worth, too. Until you truly feel it, understand your place in the world - in his world - Choso will tell you, every single day, until the end of time. If only you could see yourself how he sees you.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Choso was never bothered by the cold. He felt a certain peace in the stillness of snowfall, allowing his thoughts to wander, as though the world was truly quiet for a moment. Maybe now, in its silence, the universe would have to listen to him, a captive audience to his prayers.

Watching the blanket of white cover the landscape from your apartment balcony, he suddenly feels the heaviness of an avalanche, nearly suffocating. The bright warmth of the sun is buried under it, the flowers of summer long gone, the trees having shed their final leaves, a now barren wasteland. Yet, they don’t seem to mind; instead, they allow the cold air to become a part of them, to change them. It’s not the sun’s fault it couldn’t protect them indefinitely, nor was it a responsibility. But does the sun not wonder if it should have done more to keep life safe?

Warm puffs of steam leave his parted lips as he exhales, a fleeting glimmer of proof that he is here, that he is alive. Yet, as snowflakes land on his open palm, they pause before melting, a hesitation in the forces of nature. Blood courses through his veins, his cells grow and die, but is that enough? Where does the burden of proof lie when deciding what is human?

Where is the boundary between human and humanity?

It’s in devotion.

Dedication.

Servitude.

He is human because he serves, he protects. Since he was born he swore himself to save those who could not save themselves, to shield them from harm.

In the silence of the night, the gusts of wind howling against his ears, he nearly mistakes the sound for screams. Kechizu. Eso. Flames burn under his skin, surrounding him, his lungs closing, filling with smoke.

No.

Tightening his grip on the railing, the cold metal scalds his palms, veins pulsing against his arms.

He failed to save them.

He wasn’t strong enough.

But now, he will do anything, everything, to ensure that it doesn’t happen again. He will never, ever, fail to save those he loves.

“Choso?”

Your voice cuts through the air, it’s softness cradling him. The momentary tensing of his muscles is immediately soothed as he registers your presence, turning to face you. Under the gentle illumination of the moonlight as it reflects off the freshly fallen snow, you look picturesque. Sleep hides behind your eyes, the slight mess of your hair haloed around your face, as your hands grip onto the blanket shrouding your shoulders. Slowly padding across the balcony, a gentle crunch punctuating the steps beneath your slippers, you find your place next to him, resting your head against his body. His arms instinctively wrap around you, pulling you into his warmth.

The pale skin of his bare arms seems to glow softly against the darkness of the night sky. “Aren’t you cold?” you murmur into him, instinctively wrapping the blanket around his torso. As soon as your hands make contact with his cool skin, you hear him lightly chuckle above you.

“I don’t exactly get cold,” he smiles, “but I appreciate the gesture.” Placing a gentle kiss to your head, he allows a silence to fall between you, praying you don’t ask him what he’s doing. He wants to protect you - needs to protect you - and if he tells you the truth, it would only do more damage. He can’t hurt you; you don’t deserve to be held under the weight of his fears.

“Why are you out here so late?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates for a moment as he formulates an answer, navigating his thoughts to avoid unnecessarily worrying you. “Sometimes I like to come out here and think,” he responds truthfully.

“Think about what?”

Concern laces your tone, interwoven with your love for him. Was he okay? Was something wrong? You’ve caught him out here before, shrouded in the comfort of the night. Sometimes you’d be awoken to the porch door latching, despite Choso’s best efforts to close it softly, or sometimes you’d catch his shadow moving across the curtains lining the window. You never pressed him on it, waiting for him to feel comfortable enough to tell you, but you couldn’t help but worry when he’s been coming out here more and more, seeming more and more detached.

You noticed it the first time when you were out with Yuji and Megumi, the two boys running through nearby snowbanks while you and Choso rested on a covered bench. Choso sat next to you, hands folded in his lap, as he watched them. Yet, when your eyes caught his, something seemed off. He was far away, somewhere deep in the tortuous maze of his thoughts. Gently reaching out your palm, you rested it on his thigh, slowly rubbing circles into his skin. It took a moment, maybe two, before he seemed to register your movements, his attention flickering as he returned to reality with a soft smile.

You wanted to ask, but you knew better than to push him. After the tears he shed, the pain he felt, the last time he talked about his past, you were hesitant to force him to relive it anymore than he already does. Yet, in the back of your mind, you wonder: where do you go, Choso?

A weak sigh escapes his lips, warm breath circling in the freezing air pulling you back to the present. “I think about my family,” he finally murmurs. He pauses, gaze far away as he looks into the darkness ahead. “I think about how I failed them.”

Your chest feels like it’s cracked open, your heart bleeding at his words. Your soul aches for him; you wish you could take his pain away, carry his grief for even just a moment. You’ve heard the words of his history, seen the outlines of his past, but it suddenly hits you that he truly lived it.

A familiar sadness forms between your ribs, the dull ache of regret. Before you can think, you speak. “Sometimes, I look at Megumi and I get this pang, right in my stomach. It feels like I just got punched, like I can’t breathe. For a long time I don’t think I really knew what it was, but now I think I know. It’s guilt.” You don’t know where the words come from, pulled from the depths of your mind, but as you say them, there’s a weight behind them, a truth.

Taking in a steadying breath, you continue. “I feel like I’m not doing enough for him, like all I do is let him down over and over and over again. The worst part is that he doesn’t seem to notice, because he loves me anyways, he’ll love me no matter what.” A dark chuckle bubbles from your lips. “I’m pretty sure I could literally punch him in the face and he’d still be smiling, still hug me afterwards and apologize for making me hurt him.”

Tilting up, your gaze meets Choso’s, his eyes glassy beneath the tears that have begun silently covering them. Your voice threatens to shake as you speak, suddenly overcome with the shared connection, your emotions melding with his. “His love has cursed him. It blinds him to the cruelty in the world, to the people who would hurt him. But then I get stuck thinking ‘who would I be if I wanted him to see that?’ I don’t know, it’s like, I want him to be able to protect himself, but does that mean I failed at doing so in the first place?”

Choso smiles weakly, a tired understanding behind it. “I get that sometimes with Yuji. I know it’s not the same, but I can’t help but feel like he’ll never have a normal life just because of the circumstances he was dealt. It’s not his fault, he didn’t ask for this, to be raised by Sukuna and me. And sure, he seems okay with it now, but what about when he’s older, when he learns his place in the world? If he was given the chance, would he choose the same life again?”

A soft grin graces your lips as you breathe in, cold air burning your lungs. “I can’t say for certain, but it sounds like he has a life with two people who love him, almost too much. If I were him, I’d choose that every single time.”

Finally, the warmth returns to his eyes, his body relaxing into you as his lips meet yours. Your eyelashes flutter closed, stray snowflakes landing on them as you softly kiss him. It’s slow, a patience to his motions as his tongue swipes against yours, hot breath filling the space between you.

When you finally pull away, you’re both glowing under the fading moonlight.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too,” he smiles, one that finally reaches his eyes.

“But can we go back inside now? I’m freezing,” you giggle as shivers begin to rack your body, the cold reaching its fingers into your bones.

Without another word, he wraps his arms tightly around your torso, picking you up as you mold yourself around him. Resting your head on his shoulder, he carries you inside. Settling under the blankets covering your bed, you finally begin to warm up as Choso intertwines himself with you, his fingertips rubbing small circles into your lower back.

Yuji is so lucky to have him, you think. It feels impossible that Choso would think, for even a moment, that he was letting Yuji down - every moment they spend together you see the pure adoration Choso feels for him, the sense that he would give anything to see his brother happy.

A sudden thought pops into your mind as it begins to cloud with sleep.

“Can I meet him?” you murmur, eyes remaining closed as you speak into the darkness. “Sukuna?”

Choso is grateful you couldn’t see him react, a momentary fear flashing across his face. He hopes his hesitation wasn’t noticeable as he blurts out an answer. “Of course,” he states, silently pleading you don’t hear the way his voice wavers.

In response you simply release a pleased hum, nuzzling your head into his chest. His grip tightens around you, as if it could keep you here with him forever, frozen in this moment.

He knows you’re strong; all he can do now is hope it’s enough.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

“Come in,” a gruff voice calls from behind the door before Choso swings it open.

The warm smell of cinnamon and spices fills your senses as you step inside, eyes scanning the surroundings. Sukuna’s home is clean, grey and white tiles lining the open kitchen, simple yet sophisticated art hanging around the walls. High-pitched screams echo through the halls as Megumi and Yuji careen towards you. Your brother’s arms wrap around you in a tight hug as the boys babble about the movie they had watched earlier in the day, something about worms? Their chatter blurs into the background as a man steps out from the same hallway, leaning against the off-white walls.

He’s tall, probably around Choso’s height, but something about him, the way he carries himself, feels almost ancient, especially in contrast to the grey t-shirt and black sweatpants currently adorning his body. Striking tattoos line the contours of his face, their path continuing across his arms and presumably down his chest from what you can see beneath the collar of his shirt. Pink hair, an uncanny match to Yuji’s, seems to glow against the warm light of the living room. When his gaze meets yours, a chill runs down your spine as red irises bore into you.

“Hey,” he mutters, his voice rougher than Choso’s, the absence of any softness in it. “I’m Sukuna. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you wave, clinging to the shreds of your strength that seemed to disintegrate the moment his crimson eyes met yours.

Choso’s arms instinctively wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to him, his presence steadying. “Did they eat already?” he asks, gesturing to the boys who had run off and currently bounce on the couch cushions, pillows being tossed back and forth over giddy squeals.

“No, I was just about to feed ‘em,” Sukuna trails off, marching into the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge, he tilts his head back, turning his attention to your still-frozen frame in the doorway. “You can eat, too. Hope you like sushi.”

“I-I do,” you stammer, finally taking a full step inside, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at your inability to muster a full sentence. “Thanks.”

Sukuna just hums in acknowledgement, pulling out a tray of delicately hand-crafted rolls from the refrigerator.

As he moves across his home, the silence weighs on you, amplifying your nervousness. “So, um, Sukuna, what do you do?”

Without turning to you, he huffs a curt response. “History professor.” Before you can say anything else, his loud voice crackles through the space. “Food!” he calls into his home, summoning the boys to the dining room table. Placing three plates down, the white ceramic contrasting against the dark wood, he allows you and the boys to feast.

Hesitantly grabbing the nearest roll, you pop a piece into your mouth. “Oh my god,” you mutter through a full bite of food, “this is incredible.”

Sukuna simply grunts before Choso fills in the conversation. “Sukuna is an amazing cook, he’s actually the one who taught me,” he muses.

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise: the idea of the man in front of you, his gruff demeanor, his stoic strength, standing in the kitchen patiently chopping vegetables almost makes you giggle. “I wouldn’t have guessed that,” you manage to get out through a stifled smile before shoving another bite into your mouth.

“What, you don’t think I’m talented enough?” Sukuna asks, his tone serious.

You nearly choke on your food as the implication of your words processes in your mind. “N-no, not that, I just-”

Suddenly his boisterous laugh fills the space, something in it deeply haunting. “Oh, you humans are so fun to tease,” he practically giggles. Choso reaches out to smack his arm, his gaze darting to the two boys sitting across from you, as if to silently say shut up. “It’s fine, the brats aren’t even listening,” Sukuna continues, gasping in air through his nose to quiet his laughter.

As if on cue, Megumi and Yuji shove the last remaining pieces of sushi into their mouths before pushing their chairs away from the table. “All done!” they proclaim, cheeks puffed out and full of rice before they run back to the living room.

Sukuna quirks an eyebrow at Choso, as if to taunt him. “See?” he smirks.

Choso just rolls his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Whatever,” he mutters under his breath.

Leaning onto his elbows, Sukuna’s maroon-tinted eyes land on your face, making your blood run cold. A fire seems to rage behind his gaze, an aura of control exuding off his body. As his mouth curls into a smile, sharpened canines poke into his lower lip. “So,” he begins, “how did a little human like you manage to get tangled up with him?”

“Um, well,” you stutter, struggling to form coherent thoughts under the pressure of his watchful eyes, his presence overwhelming you, “he helped Megumi when I had to bring him to the hospital.”

“Oh, I see,” Sukuna muses through a devilish grin. “You fell for the saviour complex then, right, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call her that,” Choso grumbles, shooting daggers at the man across from you.

“Fine, fine, no need for the theatrics, Kamo,” he giggles in response, an unseriousness underlying his very essence. Before he can continue, childlike screams echo through the room as Yuji and Megumi burst in, chasing each other in some complex game of tag. “Will you brats shut up already?” Sukuna growls, grabbing a nearby pillow from the couch before hurling it at the boys.

“Ha, you missed, old man!” Yuji taunts before running out of the room, Megumi following closely behind.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, but you can’t help but notice the genuine smile flash across his features before they darken again, returning his attention to you. “Anyways, I have to ask - what will you do when it comes time to die?”

“Sukuna,” Choso chokes out a stifled yell, agitation brewing under his skin.

“What?” he feigns. “I can’t be the first to ask - after all, I’m sure you understand the implications of our lifestyle, the immortality it entails.”

Heat fills your body as your hands begin to shake, nervousness drowning out your thoughts. “I, um, I hadn’t really thought about it,” is all you can get out before your eyes start to sting. You truthfully hadn’t given it much thought beyond the nagging questions lingering in your mind, ones you worked hard to shove down. You tried to reason them as irrational, yet here you were, being confronted with them head on.

“That’s enough,” Choso growls, the sound of his chair sliding against the wood floor filling the silence as he stands. Reaching out an arm, he takes your hand in his as he pulls you to your feet. “Thanks for dinner, let me know when you need me to watch Yuji again.”

“Aw, leaving so soon?” Sukuna taunts, yet he makes no motion to stop him as Choso drags you to the front door. “It really was nice to meet you, little human!” he calls after you. As the door slams shut behind you, you swear you hear his giggle echoing through the empty halls.

The drive home is…uncomfortable, to say the least. Choso’s hand never leaves yours as he drives in silence, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Rage bubbles inside him, threatening to overflow at any moment. When a car suddenly cuts him off, he lays on the horn, profanities muttered under his breath.

You had never, ever, seen him this angry - annoyed at work, sure, even a little grumpy when you beat him at whatever video game you picked out - but never like this. He was absolutely seething, his entire body practically vibrating with wrath.

“Choso?” you whisper into the silence - you had been sitting outside your apartment for a few minutes, yet he had not made any move to get out of the car, his eyes screwed shut as he rests his head against the steering wheel.

Exhaling a shaky breath, his eyes flutter open; any remaining shreds of resentment seem to fade away as he looks at you, replaced with something closer to despair.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his shoulders collapsing inwards. “I just…fucking hate him sometimes.” Squeezing his hand, you wait for him to continue. “He’s just so purposely cruel to people, it’s not fair. He shouldn’t have said that shit to you.”

Reaching your free hand over to him, you slowly rub your palm up his back, a small comfort against the raging storm inside him.

“I’m sorry for bringing you there. I know how he gets, and I shouldn’t have let you anywhere near him.”

Your motions falter for a moment as you trail your hand over to his jaw, forcing him to face you. “I asked to meet him, remember? If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

Sadness flashes across his features at your words. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all.” He sighs, struggling to hold your gaze.

“Choso?” Somber eyes meet yours as you take in an uneven breath, the questions from earlier in the night swirling through your thoughts. “What is going to happen when I die?”

His stomach drops, eyebrows knitting together as dread overtakes him. “I don’t know.”

Body trembling, you find the strength to verbalize the words you’ve been mulling over for months, their shape engraved in the back of your mind. “Would you…would you ever turn me? Make me a vampire, like you?”

He inhales sharply. “No.”

Pain ripples through your chest, an open wound from his verbal knife. Mouth curling downward, your eyes begin to sting. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I just…I can’t.”

“Cho, I know you want to protect me, but-”

“No.” The intensity of his voice takes you aback at first, the finality of it. There’s a silent detestation behind it, an unspoken resentment. Resting in his lap, his palms ball into fists.

“But…why?”

Before the question can land, he’s already speaking. “I have a grave.”

The wind is sucked out of the car, suddenly too quiet, too tense, a vacuum of your thoughts. “What?”

“I don’t visit it, I barely did even before we moved here. But I have a grave, a tombstone, the whole deal.” Silence once again falls, this time painfully so. Any bite left in his words is now gone, replaced with something akin to agony. “They didn’t find my body after the fire, obviously, so they buried an empty casket next to my family.”

“Oh.” It’s the only sound you can get out, barely a word, more of a sigh.

“I just…I always know it’s there, an empty tomb of the life I used to have. I can’t dig it up, I sure as hell can’t go back to it, I can’t reclaim it. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

Your voice is stolen from you, shaking your head as his glassy eyes meet yours.

“It’s like the universe’s cruel joke, like it’s waiting for me to die, begging me to rot in that hole, but I can’t. I physically can’t.”

A wave of sorrow hits you, knocking the wind from your lungs. To you, immortality always felt like a blessing, a way to ensure your survival long enough to protect the safety of those you love. It was never feared, always sought after, but now his suffering digs at your soul, tearing cracks through your ideals. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “You deserve to rest.”

Finally breaking his gaze from yours, it turns to his hands, consciously unclenching his fists. Silently, he vows to protect you, but never to change you. When he finally inhales to speak, his voice comes out low, taught against the strings of his pain. He wants - no, he needs - you to understand: you can never be like this, like him; death would be a more merciful end. Lifting his eyes, they meet yours as crystal-clear tears pool along his lash line. “Eternity isn’t always a gift.”

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#i just have to finish editing it CKSKCKDKCKSK #ALSO I OFFICIALLY BROKE 40k WORDS ON THIS SERIES TN WHILE WRITING IT #MY LONGEST YET AND IM STILL NOT DONE WOOOOOH #i was stuck in a gojo rut (lmao) for a while but i finally felt like i was ready to write for my bbygirl again #yayayayay :’)

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reverie-starlight · 5 months ago

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okay that kuroo piece is still coming but have this small sakusa x MSBY!manager blurb that I just thought up and got so excited about!! I’m marking this down as fem!reader just for this specific little ramble. it can be read separately from the series !!

warnings: none, but probably a bit of a disconnect from what really happens at charity galas lmao

sakusa kiyoomi has a certain reputation for being very stoic and stand-offish in public- always polite but rather blunt in interviews. he’s tall, intimidating and not very personable around those who don’t know him, so it’s not a surprise people perceive him this way. his preference for wearing his mask most of the time only adds to this reputation, and he couldn’t care less. in fact, you would argue that he finds comfort in being perceived as unapproachable by strangers.

but when MSBY fans realize how horrifically down bad their favourite wing spiker is for the team manager, they have a field day with this absolutely drastic personality shift.

it starts with little jokes made by fan accounts about how much nicer he is to you in comparison to his teammates. they latch onto passing comments made by bokuto or atsumu about how when you’re at practice they feel at ease because they’re less likely to get obliterated by his sarcastic remarks.

no one has clued into the fact that you’re together yet, just that there’s some serious chemistry between you two.

it doesn’t go much further than that until the night of some charity event a lot of different teams are attending. of course managers are there, as well as coaches and trainers and JVA employees.

you’re doing the press/carpet walk before entering the event and in between photos and walking between journalists, one of the straps of your heels has come undone.

you frown a little and inspect it before realizing your dress restricts your ability to fix it yourself, so you nudge your boyfriend and stick your foot out to draw his attention to your predicament.

you don’t think twice about how there are no words are spoken. just a simple action and understanding between two lovers.

so people watch on as sakusa kiyoomi drops to his knees right then and there without protest and fixes your shoe. you take the opportunity to adjust the neckline of your dress (a deep, silky forest green to match his tie) and look around while you wait for him to finish.

you don’t realize the uproar this is bound to create, and you definitely don’t think twice about the fact that your boyfriend isn’t wearing a mask to this event.

…which means everyone is able to see the blush on his face and the tiny yet extremely lovesick smile on his lips as he gets up. you grin and pat sakusa on the cheek in thanks before walking to the next reporter, him trailing behind you dutifully.

you check twitter the next morning and your timeline is flooded with videos of that moment, captions gushing about how sweet and happy he looks. some fans go as far as to say he looks like a lost puppy following you around.

he doesn’t regret it one bit, but you have to comfort him when he loses his stand-offish reputation after that because he dreads the idea of more people possibly coming up to him in public.

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I literally sprinted here to write this lmao

not edited!!

tagging: @dira333 @emmyrosee

#sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader fluff #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles

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bamsara · 3 months ago

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LMAO It's Trod's birthday today! I've written over 300k for series and and so far is my longest fic to date

I don't have anything planned but I have no idea how long this is gonna be when it's finished cause I'm not near done yet

#trod au #writings #I'd like to try book binding my own fics again so I can work on my binding skills

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oddinary4bts · 5 months ago

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Chasing Cars | ch 9 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, curses, Jungkook gets jealous, mentions of smoking cigarettes, explicit content: reader catches nabi and namjoon in the act, brat!OC, car blowjob, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, praising, hickey, mouth fucking, nipple play, fingering, protected sex

☆word count: 11.2k

☆a/n: new week new chapter!! and with this one, half of the fic is done (only half LMAO). Hope you guys enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, March 10th

Jungkook’s chest moves up as he takes a deep breath, disrupting your quiet comfort.

Your eyes slide open to reveal his phone, and he’s scrolling through reels on Instagram, the sound off. You nuzzle your face further into his chest, and he holds you tighter for a few seconds.

“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” he says, his voice rumbling in his chest against your ear.

You sigh. Though it’s late evening and driving home has been draining - the sex you had when you finished eating dinner even more so - you don’t quite want to fall asleep right now. Maybe because tomorrow you’ll wake up and you’ll have to go back to class, to face Ria and Nabi and all your friends that know yet don’t know that something is going on between you and Jungkook.

“I was almost asleep,” you admit. “But I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“Why not?”

His attention is solely on you now, his phone forgotten, and so you raise your head to meet his tender gaze.

“I want to spend more time with you,” you whisper.

His lips stretch in the softest smile, his eyes sparkling with all the light in the universe. “I’ll still be here tomorrow, peach.”

You know it. You know you still have weeks with him, but tonight you feel like the end might be coming for you quicker than you want it to.

“And the day after?” you tease.

His arm tightens around you, and he moves so that he can peck your lips once. “I’ll still be right here.”

“In your bed?” you ask, faking surprise.

He laughs, a sound so sweet and so intoxicating to your senses. “Yep. With you in it.”

“Damn, JK, you’ve got plans for us, mmh?”

He just grins in reply, and your heart flutters in your chest as you put your head back on his own chest.

“So if you want to fall asleep…” he trails off, hugging you tighter for a few seconds before pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Feel free.”

You take a deep breath, nodding as you close your eyes, focusing on the steady beats of his heart. You wonder, does he know your heart has synced with his?

Does he know you’re afraid he’ll rip your beating heart from your chest?

You’ve been thinking. All day you’ve been thinking, and you haven’t been able to ask him. Haven’t been able to have the conversation he said you could have today - about his family, about the shitshow of the engagement party.

All you’ve been able to do today is exchange pleasantries, stolen glances and holding hands. And you reckon, it should be enough.

Yet the reason why you can’t sleep is because you want to know. Need to know if he truly is set to marry someone else.

“By the way,” Jungkook lets out after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “Tae texted me while you were in the shower.”

“Mmh?” you hum.

“He wanted me to tell you to reply to his texts,” Jungkook concludes. “And you should, before he grows suspicious.”

“He’s suspicious because Jimin said we have something going on after you hosted your friends here the other day.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, and he chuckles lightly. “I mean, he isn’t wrong.”

He isn’t, and you hate that he isn’t. You don’t want Taehyung to know, you don’t want your brother to have the power to take this away from you. Not when you already know life will take it from you by itself.

“I still don’t want him to know,” you admit with a small voice. “He’d hate you.”

Jungkook presses a kiss on the top of your head again. “Then we don’t tell him. You decide.”

You don’t like that he’s giving you this power, but yet again it’s better than when he wanted to pretend nothing had happened after the power outage. It’s progress, steps in the right direction, but you don’t even know if you’re walking the same path as him.

Jungkook has been great to you, he really has, but you haven’t done relationships before.

Will this time around be any different?

“Okay,” you let out. You press a kiss on the warm skin of his chest, before resting your head on it again. “Besides…” you trail off, and your heart squeezes in your chest.

Because it’s time. You need to talk to him about what his mother said, no matter how much it might hurt.

“Besides?” Jungkook repeats.

“Your mother mentioned something to me yesterday,” you admit.

You hear his heartbeat picking up. “What did she say?”

You worry at your bottom lip, take a few deep breaths in to gather courage. “That you’re supposed to marry someone?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply right away. You’re pretty sure you also hear his heart entirely stopping in his chest, but you think that might be your imagination.

“That’s hilarious,” he deadpans a few seconds later, and he lets out a disbelieved chuckle. “I’m not going to marry anyone.”

You raise your head from his chest, seeking the truth in his gaze. And he doesn’t look like he’s lying, not even a little bit. Especially not as he cups your cheek, gently running his thumb on your skin.

“She said she and your dad spoke to another family,” you explain.

He plays with his piercings, raising an eyebrow. “I’d assume that they mean Gabrielle?”

You’ve never heard that name before, and you offer him a confused look.

“Or not,” he adds after a few seconds, his brow creasing.

“Who’s Gabrielle?” you ask, and the doubt that seeps through you tastes far too vile.

“A friend from high school,” Jungkook replies immediately. “No one to worry about. Our families were always friends and my parents are obsessed with her.”

It stings. It stings far more than it should - Jungkook’s parents didn’t even give you a chance. Yet they’re obsessed with this Gabrielle, this girl from Jungkook’s past. Your heart sinks in your chest, and you look away from him, unable to hold his gaze.

“Ah,” you flatly let out.

“I don’t talk to her anymore,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, forcing you to look at him again with his firm hold on your cheek. “Last news I had of her was that she was going to study somewhere in Europe.”

You worry at your bottom lip, and Jungkook is quick to pull it from your teeth with his thumb.

“I promise,” he adds. “She’s nothing to worry about. My parents can’t force me to marry her anyway.”

You take a deep breath and then nod once. The ache in your chest barely eases, but you can see that Jungkook is trying his best. There’s something so endearing about it that you feel yourself soften, and you immediately lean in to kiss him.

The kiss is soft. The kiss is a fire in the hearth during a cold winter evening. It’s a warm summer breeze and a cup of tea on a rainy day. It’s comfort and that, more than anything, finally soothes the ache away. It helps that Jungkook swipes your bottom lip with his tongue, and you sigh as you give him access, your tongues tangling a second later.

Hell, you think you might be able to go for another round. But Jungkook pulls away, lips glistening from your ministrations.

“And about my family,” he says. His voice is breathy, and you feel powerful for the effect you have on him. Though he clears his throat, and the breathiness is gone when he adds, “They’re dicks. All of them. I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, and you mean it. “I was mostly just taken aback.”

He nods, adding, “I don’t get along with them well. They wanted me to take over the family business with Junghyun, but I left to study here. My father has never forgiven me, and my mother hates me for the tattoos and piercings.”

You don’t know what to reply. You feel horrible for him, for the smiling boy in the frame on his bedside table. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay.” He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I got used to it. I’ve found that your friends are your true family anyway.”

His friends. Taehyung. Your brother. The one thing that will make it so you and Jungkook can’t actually be together, ever.

“And now I’ve got you too so, who cares what my family thinks?”

You know he does. Somewhere in the depths of his eyes you see the kid that wished his family loved him, wished he fit in. You wonder how his mother could hate him - he was adorable, endearing with that wide bunny grin of his, even when he was just a kid.

“I guess no one cares,” you reply after a few seconds of silence.

He offers you a reassuring smile. “Told you so.” He pecks your lips again, and then nestles his head back against his pillow. “We should go to bed, it’s getting late.”

“I just have one last question,” you say as you lay your head back on his chest, your gaze directed towards the frame of him and Junghyun. “Who did you go to Disney with?”

Jungkook follows your line of gaze. “Oh.” The silence that follows is heavy, sad. “Our nanny. She practically raised us.”

That makes sense. You don’t think Jungkook would have turned out to be such a gentle, sweet person if he’d been raised by his parents. But then again, he does act like an asshole a lot, and projects that overly cocky and confident aura most of the time. You’ve only recently started seeing this soft part of him.

“She sounds like a great person,” you say.

Jungkook tightens his hold on you. “She was. The best, honestly.”

You smile sadly, your heart straining at the ache in his voice. “Was?”

“Yeah.” He sighs deeply. “She passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shrugs, which proves to be awkward in this position. “It’s not your fault. Nothing to be sorry about.”

Silence falls in the room, and you hold Jungkook a little tighter. As if that will prevent him from breaking, from falling away from you in the inevitability of the future.

“I wish I’d been around then,” you add. “So that I could be there for you.”

“Peach…”

“I’m serious.”

You hear him sniffle, the only indication that he’s getting emotional. And it hits you like a brick to the face - you want to protect this man, at all costs.

You never want Jungkook to feel sad.

“You’re amazing, you know that, right?” he says after a few seconds. “Like… I’m really lucky.”

“And so am I,” you softly reply. “Luckiest girl in the world.”

He chuckles, his voice still raw with emotion when he says, “You know you’ll have to share a bed with me every night now, right?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, and you don’t balk at the sight of the silver lining his eyes. “A dream come true, if I’m honest.”

He smiles, a sad, sad smile that makes you shift so that you’re lying next to him. You open your arms, and he immediately understands what you want, moving until he’s nestled in your embrace. You run a soothing hand on his back, not caring that he’s practically buried his face in your breasts. Especially not when, five minutes later, his breathing evens out, and he starts emitting those soft snores you find oh so adorable.

He’s left the red LED lights on, and you pat the bed behind him, looking for his phone. He whines against you, though he doesn’t say anything when you finally find his phone. You direct it towards his face to open it, and then search for the app to turn off the lights.

Once the lights are off, you put his phone away, wrapping your arm around him again, holding him close.

You don’t let go, not even when you, too, fall asleep.

Friday, March 15th

There’s something about Ria and tequila shots that you can’t quite understand.

You’re at the girls’ dorm, getting ready for the party tonight. It’s hosted at a frat house, which means your shoes will most likely be ruined by the end of the evening. You don’t really care - you put on an old pair of sneakers that you use specifically for these types of occasions.

But yes, Ria and tequila create something you can’t comprehend. She’s already taken four shots, while you’re on your second and Nabi hesitantly took one, and you know she’s going to be wild tonight.

You think you know why - a certain Kim Seokjin is supposed to be in attendance, and though Ria claims she really doesn’t like him, she’s curled her hair and donned her makeup to perfection for the occasion.

And she’s also visibly trying to get shitfaced, and so you steal the tequila bottle from her hands.

“Hey!” she complains. “Give that back.”

You take a swig from the bottle, immediately regretting your decision. It makes your friends laugh though, and it distracts Ria long enough so that you can put the cap back on the bottle, and you hide it behind you where you’re sitting on the floor of their dorm, in between their beds.

“Is Namjoon going to be there?” you ask Nabi, trying to distract Ria further.

“Yeah, of course! Hobi and Yoongi also, apparently,” Nabi answers. “What about Jungkook?”

You’re happy you’re the type to flush red with alcohol, otherwise your two friends would have a visual proof of the embarrassment that comes with Jungkook being mentioned around you. It’s stupid - you’re an adult, but for some reason the thought of Jungkook makes you all giddy, like you have a school crush on him.

It’s a feeling you’ve been clinging to this week, despite every odd against you two working out in the long term.

“I think so,” you reply, even though you know for a fact that the answer is yes and that he’s going to be driving you home.

He’s told you so in whispers against your skin last night, when he finished fucking your brains out.

“You think so, or you know?” Ria teases, a smirk on her lips. “You can pretend we haven’t seen him obsessing over you every time we went to the library this week, but we’re not going to be fooled.”

They do have a point. Indeed, the two times you’ve gone to the library with the girls, Jungkook kept popping in, bringing you snacks or just coming in to chat for a little while. The girls found it funny, and you just found it embarrassing.

Not that Jeon Jungkook is embarrassing. It’s rather the fact that it’s led to thorough interrogations, and you don’t like talking about your relationship with him when he’s your brother’s best friend, and speaking to the wrong person could lead to Taehyung learning about everything.

So you’ve been trying to keep the relationship a secret as best as you can, giving vague answers to the girl and saying that you only went to New York with him because you’re friends, and Jimin wasn’t available to accompany him.

You hid the fact that he’s rich from everyone. Hid the Yves St-Laurent dress in the back of your closet, to only be looked upon whenever you need to remind yourself that the weekend wasn’t a creation of your brain.

So far, you didn’t need to be reminded. Not when Jungkook has been acting so affectionate, cooking you meals and sitting with you when you’re working on reports or studying for your classes.

“Jungkook is not obsessed with me,” you drawl, even though you think he might be, to the extent that Jeon Jungkook can be obsessed with someone. “He’s just a good friend.”

“You fuck all your good friends?” Ria teases, wiggling her brows.

You punch her in the shoulder, and she bursts into a fit of giggles. “I’m not fucking him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ria says.

“You’ve been glowy since last weekend,” Nabi points out, an innocent smile on display.

You fake-glare at her, but to your relief, a knock sounds at the door, effectively distracting your friends.

It’s Namjoon, as revealed when Ria opens the door, and he steps in with a six-pack of beer, offering you a polite nod as Nabi gets up to hug him. They share a quick kiss, and you fake-gag, earning you a loud laugh from Ria that makes Nabi turn beat red.

“Shut up,” Nabi grumbles through her teeth as she faces you again, and she pulls Namjoon by the hand to sit on her bed.

You remain on the floor with Ria, and she’s successfully stolen the tequila bottle again. She refills the empty shot glasses, handing one to Namjoon and one to you. She gives the last one to Nabi, and she raises the bottle for you all to clink glasses with her, and a second later, the alcohol is burning down your throat.

You’re effectively drunk by the time you make it to the party. Ria is worse than you, while Nabi remains almost sober from all the shots she dodged and handed her boyfriend instead. Namjoon’s cheeks are flushed red, much like yours, and you meet up with Yoongi and Hoseok, where they stand near the wall, faces downcast.

“Hey boys!” you greet them.

You throw an arm around their shoulders, and Hoseok quickly moves away while Yoongi remains frozen in his spot, arms folded on his chest. It’s sobering, a little, and you furrow your brow as you look between them.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

Hoseok quickly glances at the rest of your friends as they gather around you before saying, “No. How was pre-drink?”

You immediately know something is up. You feel it in the way Yoongi tenses under your arm, and though he hates being touched, he doesn’t push you away. You cock an eyebrow at Hoseok questioningly, but he only shrugs and then asks Namjoon, “Want to team up on beer pong?”

A moment later, they’re walking away, Nabi in tow, and you motion to Ria to follow them. She takes the cue, though the second she turns around, Kim Seokjin appears, and they stay right there, speaking in each other’s ear.

Once you’re convinced they won’t hear you, you let go of Yoongi, turning to face him. “Is something wrong?” you ask again.

He clenches his jaw, still avoiding your gaze. His arms tighten around him, and he looks like he’s trying to hold himself together, yet barely succeeds.

“Hobi just told me he’s switching colleges next semester.”

You widen your gaze. “What?”

Yoongi chuckles, but it’s entirely void of any joy. “You heard me right.”

“Why?”

Yoongi meets your gaze, his eyes flaming with barely disguised anger and hurt. “I don’t know.”

You wince, nose scrunching up. “I…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yoongi says before you’re able to finish your sentence, which is a good thing considering you had no idea what to say. “I should have seen it coming.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi blinks away some tears, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why you care. You were fucking him like a month ago.”

In truth, a month ago you were pretending the world didn’t exist with Jungkook, as it was the power outage, but you refrain from saying anything. You highly doubt that that’s what Yoongi needs to hear right now.

“Yeah, and I don’t think I should have,” you say.

“Why?” Yoongi asks, sounding offended.

You shrug. “Because you care about him and it was hurting you.”

Yoongi presses his lips in a thin line, nodding once. He doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t really expect him to. Not when Hoseok clearly just broke his heart.

“You know what you need?” you say, pulling his arms away from his chest so that you can hook arm with him.

“What?” Yoongi asks, following you as you pull him through the crowd.

“A drink.”

He chuckles. He doesn’t look quite as sad as he did a second ago, and you reckon that it’s a win.

You make it your mission to cheer Yoongi up tonight, making sure he always has a drink in hand. You also stay by his side, playing beer pong with him when Ria begs you to play. She’s accompanied by Seokjin, who’s got far more aim than you do, but Yoongi is a decent player. It compensates for a while, until Hoseok appears in the vicinity of the table, and Yoongi tenses so much he looks like he’s turning to stone. You try to take over then, only to be solidly defeated by Seokjin who smiles at Ria as she high-fives him with a wide grin on her lips.

You’ve never seen her smiling so wide with a guy before, and you have to keep your own grin in at the sight, not wanting to upset Yoongi. Instead, you hook arm with him again, pulling him towards the backyard. He begrudgingly follows, though he visibly relaxes the second you’re outside, the cold air a stark contrast from the hot atmosphere inside.

“All good?” you ask.

“Why are you doing this?”

You shrug your shoulders. “You’re a friend,” you offer as an explanation. “The least I can do is be there for you right now.”

“Are we friends?” he queries. He sounds sad again, and you hate it.

“Of course we are! If we weren’t before, we are now.” You try to sound reassuring, and when you see the smile tickling the corner of his lips, you think it’s working. “If you want, we can go sit somewhere quiet upstairs to talk shit about Hobi.”

“Honestly, that sounds like a dream,” Yoongi agrees.

You laugh, and a second later you walk back into the house, Yoongi in tow. The first thing you see as you walk in is Jimin, and you instinctively scan the room, your eyes falling on Jungkook next. It’s like everyone disappears for a few seconds, and your lips stretch in a soft smile he immediately reciprocates, though it slightly falls when he sees Yoongi behind you.

You glance at Yoongi, and he raises his eyebrows in question. You motion towards Jungkook, leaning closer to Yoongi to say, “Just give me a second, I want to talk to my friend.”

He nods, and ends up following you as you walk towards Jungkook, who’s standing with Jimin, Sera, Lisa and some of their other friends you don’t remember the name of.

“Hey,” you greet everyone as you stop next to them.

Your fingers itch to touch Jungkook, but you clench your fist, refraining from doing so.

A chorus of heys reply to you, and you awkwardly stand there for a few seconds before they resume their conversation as if you haven’t interrupted. You feel bad for a few seconds until Jungkook leans in closer to you.

“Who’s that guy?” he asks.

You purse your lips, holding a laugh in. “A friend. He’s going through a breakup?” At least you think that’s the best way to refer to it. “I’m trying to be there for him.”

Jungkook’s gaze hardens as he clenches his jaw, a muscle feathering over his skin. There’s something infinitely attractive about the sight - and infinitely wrong about you to find it attractive to begin with - and you already can’t wait for the evening to end so that you can tangle in bed with him.

“A friend?” Jungkook repeats.

“Are you jealous?” you tease, and Jungkook sends a cautious glance around.

But no one is watching you besides Yoongi, and you know Yoongi would never say anything.

“Should I be?” Jungkook says, frowning slightly.

You wink at him. “Not at all. His breakup is with a guy so… I fear I’m lacking a certain part of my body for him to find me attractive.”

“Could be bi,” Jungkook points out.

“Could be.” You shrug, and then you gently brush your hand on the back of his. “I’ll come find you when it’s time to leave?”

He nods, glancing at Yoongi. You want to reach for him, to hold him close and reassure him that he’s got nothing to worry about, but Jimin is now watching again, so you only step away from Jungkook, re-establishing a safe distance between the two of you.

“Yeah, let me know when you want to go home,” Jungkook replies.

You smile, nodding once before wishing him a good evening. You feel his gaze burning on the back of your head as you walk away, Yoongi following you, and you can’t resist but look over your shoulder when you’re about to leave the room to head into the hall leading to the staircase. Your gazes connect despite the crowd, and your heartbeat picks up in your chest, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

“I’ll grab a beer before we go up,” Yoongi suggests, snapping you out of the moment.

You blink a few times, before nodding your head. “Good idea. I’ll take one too.”

You pit stop at the table where the drinks are, and you end up making gin and tonics since they’ve run out of beer. Yoongi complains he doesn’t like it, but you tell him alcohol is alcohol, to which he offers you a side-eye that has you burst out laughing.

A moment later you’re on your way up the stairs. To outside eyes, you wonder what it looks like - do people think you’re looking for a place to hide so that you can fuck? It’s a funny thought, and you laugh some more as you reach the second floor, and notice the four people sitting on the floor as they talk. They barely look at you as you walk in front of them, heading for a door at the end of the corridor.

Yoongi steps in front of you as you near the door, hand extended to open it. The doorknob turns and he pushes it open, only to be met by an all-too familiar high-pitched shriek. A look over Yoongi’s shoulder reveals Nabi, butt ass naked, sitting on the counter with Namjoon between her legs.

“Oh shit!” Yoongi lets out, yet he freezes, not closing the door.

“Oh my God,” you echo and Nabi flushes so deep red you think she’ll combust.

“Close the door, idiots,” Namjoon grits through his teeth.

Yoongi’s gaze widens, and he immediately slams the door shut. His cheeks are dusted with pink, and you exchange one glance that makes you burst out laughing, wheezing and blinking back tears. You’ve never seen Yoongi laughing like that, which only spurs you on more, until he grabs your hand and tugs you into a bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says once your laughter finally recedes.

You nod, wiping the tear that escaped the confines of your eyes. “I know, holy shit. I knew they were getting it on but I didn’t think Nabi would do it at a party.”

“Didn’t expect that of Joon either,” Yoongi admits, and he glances in the general direction of the bathroom. “He used to be such a nerd, and now he’s fucking a girl at a party.”

“Good for him,” you say, raising your glass. Yoongi doesn’t echo the sentiment, instead looking troubled. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

Yoongi shrugs, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor, his back against the door. You follow him, sitting against a dresser while you wait for him to talk.

“I’m afraid that he might be jumping into a relationship too quickly after…” Yoongi trails off. “After Julia.”

Your brow creases for a few seconds until you figure, “His ex?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah. They were together for a long time, and he loved her a lot,” Yoongi reveals.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. “You think Nabi might just be a rebound.”

“Listen,” Yoongi lets out. “I saw him during Frosh week. I saw him starting to want to go to parties last semester. I’m not saying it’s because of Nabi…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders again before taking a sip of his drink that makes him scrunch up his nose in disgust. “I don’t know why I grabbed that, it’s disgusting.”

“Hey, gin and tonics are good!”

He throws you a no-bullshit look, and then returns to the conversation at hand. “So yeah, he’s been different where Nabi is implied, but he was with Julia for five years. It’s bound to have had an impact on him.”

Yoongi isn’t wrong, and you hate that he isn’t. You don’t want Nabi to be set up for heartbreak.

“If he hurts Nabi…” you trail off.

Yoongi snorts, the smile he offers you a lot warmer than any you’ve ever seen on his features before. “You’re a good friend, aren’t you?”

You hold his gaze, shrugging your shoulders. “I try to be. I’d do anything for my friends.”

Yoongi raises his solo cup, his lips still curved upwards. “Then, I’m glad to count you as a friend.”

You clink glasses, taking a long sip from your gin and tonic that makes your head buzz even more than it already was. Silence reigns on the room for a moment, a comfortable silence that makes you look around, scanning your environment. Apart from the mattress on the floor and a few discarded pieces of clothing, the bedroom is empty. More clothes overflow from the closet though, as if whoever’s room this is just quickly shoved everything in there before the party.

“What about you?” Yoongi asks then.

You frown quizzically, facing him. “What about me?”

“Jungkook.”

Your throat goes dry, and you hide your blush behind a long sip of your drink. “What about him?”

“Hobi mentioned that something is going on between you guys?”

You’ll kill him. You’ll eviscerate Jeong Hoseok the moment you have the opportunity to.

“Not really,” you lie, though the lie weighs heavy on your shoulders.

Obviously, Yoongi sees right through you, saying, “I saw how you guys looked at each other earlier. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Your cheeks burn as you recall when you spoke to Jungkook. You didn’t feel like you were looking at him a certain way, but then again he has a tendency to steal your attention no matter where you are, so maybe Yoongi is onto something.

“I’m not trying to,” you say, taking a deep breath to chase away the lingering heaviness from the lie. “He’s my brother’s best friend.”

“Your brother, who’s conveniently on a semester abroad right now.”

You narrow your gaze at Yoongi, as if glaring at him. “It’s not convenient. I wish he’d never gone.”

This lie tastes even worse than the previous, and you chase its aftertaste with your drink.

“Right. And then you’d never have fucked his best friend.”

You close your eyes, rubbing a hand on your forehead. “It’s such a mess, Yoongi.”

He snorts in his red solo cup. “Why though?”

“Taehyung can’t know.”

“Why?” Yoongi asks again. “You’re adults.”

“Tae doesn’t think that way,” you admit, and a familiar annoyance flashes through you. “He’s always been overbearing. Like, when I was in highschool he scared all the guys away whenever they tried to speak to me.” Not that you would have dated any of them anyway, but Yoongi doesn’t need to know that. “It was annoying. And now, it’s even worse because JK’s his friend.”

“Or maybe he’ll trust his friend to treat you right, no?”

You wish it were that easy. You wish you lived in the utopia Yoongi’s composing right now, but you know reality to be far crueller than that.

“Trust Jungkook?”

Yoongi winces, and you hate the drop of doubt it brings back to you.

It’s the same doubt that had invaded you because of Colton, because of Lisa and Shelly. But then again, you’ve seen Jungkook last weekend. You were there all week with him: you want to believe he’s changed, and for the better.

But would Taehyung see that?

“Anyways,” you say before Yoongi’s able to add anything else. “We were supposed to talk shit about Hobi.”

Yoongi visibly deflates, his eyes dropping to his solo cup as he spins the liquid in it, watching it slosh around. “Yeah.”

“When did he tell you he’s switching colleges?” you ask, as gently as you can.

“Right before you guys got here.”

Damn. You’re friends with Hoseok too, you really are, but you reckon it’s selfish to do something like that to someone at a party when they can’t really do anything. It explains the awkwardness when you arrived though, and for some reason you’re happy you stuck to Yoongi’s side and not Hoseok’s.

You don’t think Hoseok would deserve someone comforting him right now.

“That’s dickish,” you say, and you mean it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s coming out of nowhere too,” Yoongi adds. He sighs, resting his head against the door. “He seemed to say that it was to follow a professor for an internship but still… It’s weird, no?”

“Where is he going?” you ask.

“He didn’t tell me. Just said that it was far.”

You wince. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi shrugs, and he downs his glass, gagging after he’s swallowed. “This is really bad alcohol.”

It’s a bad attempt at switching subjects, and you offer Yoongi a small smile you hope is comforting. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days,” Yoongi replies, and he sounds infinitely tired. “But thank you for trying to cheer me up tonight. I really appreciate it.”

Your smile is easy, warm this time. “Of course. Anytime.”

You end up staying in that small, impersonal bedroom for a while, the party long forgotten as you chat about everything and nothing. You hadn’t realized before, but you have more in common with Yoongi than you previously thought. You had similar circumstances growing up - that is, fathers leaving when you were too young to even remember them, and older brothers that tried to compensate.

Yoongi tells you about high school, about the first girl he dated. That’s how you learn that he’s bi, and not gay, and you beat yourself up mentally because now you feel like you’ve lied to Jungkook.

Not that it matters - Yoongi has the potential to be a good friend, but he’s not Jungkook.

You don’t know what to make of the thought, so you push it far, far back in your mind, until its whisper is easily ignorable.

“Shit,” Yoongi lets out a while later as he pulls his phone out of his pockets. “We’ve been in here for two hours.”

You widen your gaze, pulling your phone out as well. Your pulse skyrockets when you notice Jungkook tried to call you twice, leaving you a text that makes you hold in a small smile.

[11:46 pm] JK: where are you [11:46 pm] JK: :(

It’s almost thirty minutes later, but you immediately swipe your phone open to reply.

[12:12 am] You: just chilling with yoongi. wanna head home soon?

“I think I’ll go,” Yoongi says, and you look up from your phone to meet his gaze. “I’ve got lots of stuff to do tomorrow.”

You nod. “We should study together Sunday,” you reply as you both push up to your feet, stretching. “I have a lab report to finish.”

Yoongi agrees, and a second later you’re stepping out of the room. You earn a curious look from three girls sitting on the floor near the bathroom, and you offer them a tight-lipped smile as you pass them on your way to the stairs.

The music is still loud when you get to the floor level, people dancing and indulging in alcohol and partying like only college kids know how to do. Part of you still wants to revel, to enjoy the night, but your break away from the party with Yoongi has tired you, and you want to head home.

And maybe part of you wants to head home because it means spending time with Jungkook, but you’d never admit it to anyone.

You hug Yoongi goodbye in the middle of the living room, and then you make your way to the kitchen, hoping to find Jungkook there. You don’t find him, but Ria, Seokjin, Namjoon and Nabi are there, and you inform them that Yoongi left.

“What were you guys doing?” Nabi asks, and you immediately know she’s inebriated by the slur in her speech. “Why were you trying to go to the bathroom?”

A slight blush covers Namjoon’s cheeks as you burst out laughing. “What were you guys doing in the bathroom, mmh?” you counter-back.

Ria bursts out laughing, and Seokjin holds in a laugh, his plump lips curving upwards at the corner as Nabi makes a sound you can’t quite interpret. It just makes you laugh, and she’s quick to follow with, “What about it?”

“Nothing,” you say, shrugging your shoulders innocently. “Just an image I’ll never be able to get out of my mind.”

“Gosh,” Namjoon lets out, and you all laugh again.

“Anyways, I was just cheering Yoongi up,” you say after that, and you’re aware it sounds a little suspicious when four pairs of eyes turn to look at you, eyebrows almost touching. “We talked, that’s it,” you add, raising your hands in defence. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Hobi got pissed when he learned you guys were hiding somewhere together and he dipped,” Ria reveals. “I think you made him jealous.”

“Oof.” You worry at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “Shit, I’m too sober for this.”

For this being lying to your friends, because you know damn well that Hoseok might indeed be jealous of you, but for spending time with Yoongi. Not the other way around. Your friends don’t know though, so you let Ria tug you to the bar, where the amount of alcohol has drastically diminished since the last time you were here.

You end up throwing back shots with your friend, and she inevitably tugs you on the dancefloor next, and you sway to the beat along with her for a while, until you once more feel buzzed with alcohol.

That’s where Jeon Jungkook finds you, arm carelessly wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you in, startling you.

“Shit,” you say in his face.

“You don’t answer your phone, mmh?” he lets out.

You think you smell cigarette smoke on his breath, but you’re too drunk from his proximity to really be able to tell. He makes your thoughts swim after all, far too much for you to think about anything other than the fact that he’s close enough you could kiss him, here in the middle of a crowded room.

Would people cheer for you guys, or would you earn snickers? You think it’d be the latter option, considering that he’s Taehyung’s friend, but you don’t care.

“Hey you,” you purr, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Hey,” he replies.

You can’t help the soft smile that overtakes your features, and he immediately melts, echoing it.

“Want to head home?” you ask him.

Someone loudly clears their throat, and you jump out of Jungkook’s arms, cheeks turning fully red. Ria is watching with a wide grin, and she wiggles her eyebrows when you meet her gaze.

“Fuck off,” you tell her, your whole face burning, and she just laughs at your expense as you walk away, Jungkook in tow.

You make it all the way to the room where you’ve left your coat, grabbing it as Jungkook looks around for his, and you’re outside before he meets you, a confused look on his features.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, his breath clouding in front of his face.

You watch as it lifts in the air slowly before vanishing in a gust of wind.

“What?” you let out. “No? Why would I be?”

“You ran out like I did something wrong,” he answers, motioning over his shoulder.

You melt. You melt like ice cream on a hot summer day, dripping to the floor with endearment for the man in front of you.

“No, I ran because Ria always puts her nose in stuff she shouldn’t,” you say. You look around, fingers itching to reach for him, but people are smoking closer to the street, and you think you recognize some of his friends in the group.

“You were being obvious, peach,” Jungkook teases, and he winks at you, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat as he walks down the three steps from the porch to the lawn.

You catch up to him quickly as he heads towards the group, wishing everyone good night. Lisa stares at you as you stand next to Jungkook, and your cheeks heat up once more under that watchful gaze.

Luckily enough for you, Jungkook says his goodbyes quickly, and you’re walking away under a minute later, heading to where he parked his car.

“How come you’re always driving to parties now?” you ask Jungkook. “You could afford an Uber.”

He glances at you, shrugging sheepishly. “Then I wouldn’t have a reason to drive you home.”

“Please,” you let out, rolling your eyes. “We could grab an Uber home together. That way you’d be able to drink.”

He looks behind you, making sure you’re not in sight from the frat house anymore, and then he pulls one of his hands out of his coat, grabbing yours. His hand is warm, large, and it engulfs your own hand easily as he tugs you closer.

“You might hate me for this,” Jungkook starts, “but I promised your brother I’d make sure you’re okay during parties this semester.”

This time, you roll your eyes so far back that you think they might get stuck. “He did not ask that of you.”

“He did,” Jungkook insists.

“That’s bullshit.” You sigh loudly, slightly shaking your head. “Even when he’s gone he’s still annoying.”

Jungkook laughs, the sound like a warm blanket wrapped around you. “But yeah, he just asked me to make sure you’re okay, and I got used to not drinking as much at parties.”

“On behalf of Taehyung, I’m sorry.”

He tugs you even closer, and you trip on a crack in the sidewalk. He catches you before you fall, hands finding your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he says. “And don’t apologize, I really don’t mind.”

You pout, but you fall silent, just enjoying the feel of Jungkook’s hand in yours. You reach his car a few minutes later and, ever so the gentleman, Jungkook holds the door open for you.

You cock an eyebrow, looking back at him with a small smile on your lips as you’re about to get in. “You only opened the door for me ‘cause you want to look at my ass, didn’t you?” you tease.

He laughs, loud and clear, before pushing you in. “Shut up, peach.”

A smile tickles the corner of your lips, like it permanently seems to do when it comes to Jungkook, and then you sit in the car. He shuts the door before making his way to the driver’s side, and a second later, he’s sliding in, offering you a smirk that makes your cheeks burn.

“What?” you let out.

“So what if I just want to look at your ass?” he says, turning the key in the engine. The car purrs to life as Jungkook adds, “You’ve got a really nice ass, especially in those pants.”

You feel all warm and tingly inside, and you roll your eyes as you look away from him. It only makes him chuckle, and then he starts driving, heading towards the home you share. The first minute is spent in silence, the music on the radio low, and you only realize that Jungkook has something on his mind when you glance at him to see him pulling on his piercings with his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” you immediately ask.

“You were with that guy for a long time,” he answers, and his eyes dart to you before returning to the street.

“Yoongi?” you say, though you obviously know that he means Yoongi. “Yeah, he’s a friend.”

“A friend?” Jungkook echoes.

You hum, nodding your head. “He’s actually fucking Hobi so…”

Jungkook’s gaze widens, and he glances at you. “Hobi? Isn’t that the guy you were fucking?”

“He was,” you say, and you laugh at his expression, dead in the middle of jealousy and surprise. It’s a funny look on his features, though the second you laugh, it melts away, replaced by tender endearment. “He actually started fucking Yoongi during the power outage, and we ended things there.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but you see a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw. He looks angry, and could he even be… jealous?

“Are you jealous?” you ask, unable to keep the amusement from your voice.

“I’m not,” Jungkook says, voice so stern you know for a fact that he definitely is jealous.

“You are!” you insist, and you burst out laughing. “Jeon Jungkook is jealous because I used to fuck someone else.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook repeats, louder this time. “I’m not fucking jealous.”

You smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief, and you pat his thigh. “Don’t worry. You’re the only one I want to fuck now.”

“Is that why you spent your evening locked up in a bedroom with some other guy?” he asks, and you hear the jealousy in his voice, clear as day this time.

“Gosh, JK,” you say teasingly, and you turn towards him, fully facing him. “You’re so jealous.”

He pushes your hand away from where you’d left it on his thigh. “Fuck off.”

You widen your gaze, bursting out laughing a second later. And then, just to piss him off further, you lean closer to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek while your seatbelt tries to pull you back to your seat.

“You’re adorable.”

He makes a non-committal sound as you sit back in your seat, and you return your hand to his thigh, squeezing once. This time he lets you do it, parting his legs slightly so that his thigh is in easier reach for you.

You lean your head against the headrest, eyes searching his profile. He’s just toying with his piercings again, and he looks heavenly in the neon light of the streetlights, the orange glow painting him in a beautiful picture. You sigh, and he glances at you long enough for his eyes to meet yours.

You fall for him. You’ve already been falling for him, inevitably, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you right now that makes you fall irreversibly.

“I want you,” you say, voice breathy.

Jungkook’s car comes to a halt at a red light, and he looks at you again. “Right now?”

You nod, and your hand finds his thigh again. “Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?”

“I’m driving, peach.”

You shrug. “Then better keep your eyes on the road.”

Your words turned him on. You’d expected it, yet when you move your hand up, fingers grazing his dick, your throat dries out.

He’s already getting hard.

“You think you can drive while I suck your dick?”

“Peach,” Jungkook says sternly. “We’re almost home.”

“Just keep driving,” you innocently reply, batting your eyelashes.

He rolls his eyes, yet he goes forward when the light turns green instead of turning left like he was supposed to. You bite your lower lip, desire flushing through you as warmth pools at your core.

“You act so tough, but you folded so easily,” you tease, feeling brattier than you’ve ever felt with him.

Maybe because you’re starting to realize the power that you have over Jeon Jungkook, and it’s getting to your head.

“Don’t make me regret, peach,” he warns, voice low and gravelly.

You wet your lips, tilting your head to the side. “Or what?”

“Or I’m driving you home and not fucking you tonight.”

His threat falls flat - the second the words are out of his mouth you caress his length through his pants, and he instinctively bucks his hips.

“Careful,” you let out. “Wouldn’t want to get in an accident.”

He just clenches his jaw as you start working on the button of his jeans. He shifts, allowing you easier access, though it’s still awkward from the sitting position and his seatbelt. Soon enough you manage to get the button undone, and then you unzip his pants.

“Think someone’s going to see us?” you ask as you slide your hand in his pants, gripping his dick over the fabric of his boxers once.

He sits heavily in your hand, already fully hard, and your mouth waters.

Jeon Jungkook has a lot of power over you, too.

“Not if I can find an empty parking lot,” he says, voice breathy when you stroke him. “Under the boxers, please.”

“Jeon Jungkook, saying please?” you tease, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll get used to this.”

“Don’t.” His eyes flutter shut for a few seconds when you manage to slide your hand into his boxers, and you let out a breathy sound at the feeling of his soft skin.

“Shit, Jungkook.”

“Mmh?”

“You’re already so hard.”

He chuckles. “You turn me on a lot, peach.”

You like to hear it, so much so that you free his dick from his pants, as much as you possibly can from the angle.

“Clearly,” you say as you eye the bead of precum forming on his slit. You swipe your thumb on it, smearing it on his tip.

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the wheel, but he remains silent this time around as he pulls the car into a parking lot. Though it’s not fully empty, he heads to a dark corner, where the lone streetlight died so that he can quickly park the car as you slowly jerk him.

“I thought you’d drive around while I sucked you,” you tease, unbuckling your seat belt.

His eyes are dark, dangerous, as he casts them on you. “I want to be able to appreciate every second of you choking on my dick, peach.”

You smirk, and you bend down, swirling your tongue around him once. “Yeah?”

He grunts as you suck on his tip, and he reclines his seat, pushing his pants down just enough to fully free his dick. “Yeah.”

You suck once again. “Good boy.”

His large hands find your hair as you swirl your tongue around him, and he pulls it back in a ponytail so that he can watch you work on him, though you’re keen on teasing him more than anything right now.

You want to see how a frustrated Jungkook fucks.

“Just for you,” he replies as you lightly suck his tip once more.

You move to the side, peppering open mouthed kisses all along his shaft, and then some more on his thigh. You suck a hickey there, a dark, purple mark, and Jungkook curses under his breath.

“Stop teasing,” he says through gritted teeth as you lick the mark.

“Or what?”

You look up to meet his gaze as your tongue toys with his slit. His precum is salty in your mouth, and the frustration building up in his gaze turns your insides to pure lava.

You’re burning for him. Truly burning - you’ve caught fire and you don’t think it can be extinguished.

“Why are you such a brat?” he asks, though he doesn’t sound inquisitive. He rather sounds whiny, like he wants you to stop but some part of him is thrilled.

Or maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s you and your desire for him that’s clouding your mind, like it usually always does.

You go back to his dick, licking your way up and teasing his slit at the top. You then close your mouth around him, give him a tentative suck that makes him buck his hips. You want to pull away, to be more of a brat, but his large hand shifts to the back of your head to hold you in place. You whine, but then he slowly fucks up into your mouth, and it turns into a moan, your eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat.

“See,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know you can take me.”

If you weren’t gone before, you truly are now, and you abandon yourself to the desire you feel for him. You take the lead, bobbing your head up and down as you jerk him off too, making sure every inch of his dick is pleasured. He’s a grunting mess over you, his hand still fisting some of your hair, though he’s thrown his head back and isn’t watching anymore.

You go down, hollowing your cheeks around him, and then slowly come up. You’ve been sloppy, and your spit is a natural lube on his dick as you stop at the tip, swirling your tongue around him.

“Peach,” he says, voice low.

You let go of his dick, meeting his gaze. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust.

“Mmh?” you let out.

“I really want you right now.”

You don’t need to be told more. You climb on top of him, careful not to press your ass on the honk of his car, and you kiss him rough, your teeth almost clashing as your mouths collide. Jungkook grunts against you, his hands immediately finding your hips, and you moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth.

“Do you have condoms?” you ask as he moves to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat.

You lose your hands in his hair as he sucks on the spot where your neck connects with your shoulder. And then he pauses, lifting an apologetic look to you.

“What?”

“We used the condom last week,” he reminds you.

In New York.

You groan, hiding your face in his neck. “Are you saying we have to drive all the way home now?”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “Or you finish me off here?” he suggests.

You throw him a stern look that makes him laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. Your heart warms in your chest, chasing away the lust, and all you’re left with are the feelings that have been brewing in you for weeks, feelings you don’t dare name right now.

“Get back in your seat, I’ll drive us home.”

You pout, and he pecks your lips once. You can’t help the soft smile that grows on your features, and you climb off from him, sitting back in the passenger seat.

A second later you’re pulling out in the street, Jungkook having put his pants back on, and he grabs your hand where it rests on your thigh as he drives. It’s intimate somehow, even more so intimate than you sucking his dick a second ago, and you spend the drive admiring him, wondering how it is that you got so lucky when it comes to him.

He opens the door for you once he’s parked the car near your apartment, and he shuts it behind you before grabbing your hand again, pulling you behind him as you walk home. He unlocks the front door, and then you’re in, engulfed by the gentle warmth of your apartment.

There’s a beat of silence as you exchange a look, the air filling with electricity. With the knowledge of what’s about to happen - your blood heats up in your veins, bringing back the arousal that had clouded the car just a few minutes ago.

“You know,” Jungkook lets out, and he takes a step closer to you, towering over you. “It was my first time getting sucked in my car.”

For some reason it surprises you. You didn’t think Jungkook had many firsts left, yet in a week you’ve done two of them with him.

“It was?”

He nods, and he grabs your jaw to tilt your head back, his grip gentle yet firm. “And you were so good to me, mmh?” You reckon you were a brat, and maybe you should remind him, but when he adds, “Should I be good to you now?”, you only nod. He laughs, saying, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It’s all you have time to say before he’s crashing his lips on yours, and he swallows the breathy sound you instinctively let out. His hand falls to your waist, pulling you in, while yours do quick work of pushing his coat off his shoulders. He helps you by taking it off, and you both don’t care to put it in the closet, not when his tongue is in your mouth and he’s turning into the oxygen in your lungs.

Taking off your shoes prove to be awkward, as you’re both reluctant to disconnect from the kiss, but it’s oh so worth it once you manage to free your feet from the shoes, and then Jungkook picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pushes you against the door.

You wrap your arms around his neck, sucking on his tongue when he pushes it in your mouth again, and he grunts, grinding into you.

“You make me insane,” he says against your mouth, and then he pulls away to suck another mark on your neck.

You pull at his hair, and he retaliates by grinding his hips into yours again. “I really want you, Kook,” you say, the nickname slipping from your mouth.

Jungkook pulls back, just enough so that his gaze can meet yours. “What did you just call me?”

Though your heart is beating so loud you can barely hear your thoughts, you manage to recall, repeating, “Kook?”

“Say it again.”

The intensity in his gaze is not one you can shield from, and you find yourself lacking any defiance. “Kook,” you repeat, softer this time.

“Shit, please always call me that.”

When his soft lips find yours again, you sigh, and he pulls away from the door to carry you to his room, his mouth barely disconnecting just long enough for him to focus on opening the door. He walks in, not bothering to kick the door shut, and he puts you down on his bed, his lips disconnecting just long enough for him to take off his shirt before he’s climbing over top of you, his mouth seeking yours.

You run your hands along his warm skin, appreciating the muscles in his back as he shifts, nails lightly grazing him. He grinds into you in retaliation, and you moan in his mouth, a sound he swallows like a starved man.

Jungkook kneels between your legs, and despite the fact that he didn’t turn the lights on, you still take a moment to admire him in the dim light filtering in from the windows. His big, doe eyes are narrowed softly, like he’s holding in a smile, and he gently runs a hand up your arm before pulling you to a sitting position.

He takes off your coat, eyes never leaving yours - like he’s lost in your gaze the same way that you’re lost in his - and then he takes care of your shirt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He plays with his piercings as he takes in the sight of your breasts, nipples perked.

“Not wearing a bra?” he teases, and he pinches one of your nipples.

You moan softly, and he pushes you back down so that he can bend and wrap his lips around your other nipple, tongue teasing at the sensitive bud.

“Is there something wrong with that?” you ask once he’s lifted your head from your breast.

“No. Just made me realize that I should have fucked you at the party.”

You bite your lower lip. “You should have.”

“Then everyone would know how good I make you feel, mmh?” he says, and then he starts going down your body, pressing kisses along the column of your neck, and then on your collarbone. Your breasts come next, and he takes his time worshipping them while you tug at his hair, just enough for him to grunt against you.

When he gets tired of your breasts, Jungkook moves lower, pressing gentle kisses on your abdomen, up until he reaches the band of your pants. He looks up then, meeting your gaze seeking consent, and you offer it to him with a nod of your head.

It doesn’t take him more to go lower, and he kisses your clit over your pants. You let out a breathy sound, and he kneels so that he can take off your pants, pulling your panties down at the same time.

You’re dripping wet. You’ve been dripping wet since you sucked him in his car, and Jungkook watches your juices glistening as he pulls on his lip piercings. “Shit, peach. You’re fucking soaked.”

“I know,” you let out.

“So, so good to me,” he whispers to himself, and then he dives in, licking up from your entrance to your clit, where he swirls his tongue against the sensitive bud.

You become a moaning and writhing mess as he eats you out, as his tongue presses expert circles around your clit. He starts fingering you at the same time, scissoring motions fighting against your walls as they instinctively tighten around him, yet Jungkook doesn’t falter.

He never does. He never falters, is always good to you. It’s no wonder you start riding the wave towards an orgasm in no time, the pressure on your clit just enough to keep you on edge without pushing you over. You try to grind into his mouth, but he pushes you back down, one large hand on your stomach.

“Just let me please you, mmh?” he says against you.

“Jungkook…”

And then he truly goes in, his tongue flat against your clit as he moves his head from side to side, his fingers curling perfectly inside of you. The orgasm hits like a train, and your vision turns white as your walls pulse around his digits.

Jungkook milks the orgasm out of you, making sure you’re truly spent before sitting back on his heels. You look at him through blissed, half-lidded eyes, and he palms himself over his pants, getting up to take off the rest of his clothes a few seconds later. He stands there for a time, his dick rock hard, and then he walks over to his night table to grab a condom.

A moment later he’s back between your legs, rubbing his dick up and down your folds to collect your juice.

“Ready?” he asks.

You’re still high from the orgasm, so you just nod your head once, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes inside of you and you let out a broken moan. He grips your waist, fingers ever so slightly pushing into the supple skin as he seats all of himself inside of you, and then he gives one thrust, pushing back out and then in in a swift motion.

“Peach,” he grunts, and his thumbs shift on your skin, like he’s caressing your sides.

“Mmh?” you let out.

He doesn’t move for a time, and your eyes slide open to meet his gaze. The intensity behind his pupils nearly undoes you, making you reach towards him until he lets go of your waist to grab your hand instead. He leans forward, holding your hand over your head, and then he steals a quick kiss on your lips.

“Let me know if I hurt you?” he says against your mouth.

You kiss him again for good measures, and then whisper, “Don’t worry, I can take it.”

“Fuck,” he curses, and then he starts fucking you, slowly yet deep, his dick infinitely hard inside of you.

He keeps at it for a time, his forehead resting against yours as he fucks you passionately, taking in the breathy sounds you make. Your free hand finds his waist, as if you can urge him to go faster, yet he resists, just keeping that same slow and steady beat.

He lifts his head, pecks your forehead and then says, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” is all you have time to say before everything changes and he starts pounding into you unforgivingly.

You hold on to his shoulders, nails digging in his skin as his head hangs low. He grunts directly in your ear as he fucks you, the sounds he makes almost pornographic. It’s hot, deadly so, but then again you think everything he does is hot.

You’re a goner for him. For your brother’s best friend, for someone you can’t truly have. It sobers you, and Jungkook seems to notice the shift in your attitude because he stills inside of you, raising his head to meet your gaze.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks.

His big, doe eyes are filled with concern for you, with so much emotion you think you might drown. You cup his cheek, taking it all in.

Maybe you truly can give it a chance.

“I think I’m falling for you,” you breathe.

He doesn’t move for a while, doesn’t even blink, but then he grins. He grins, and you think you’ve never seen something as beautiful as him.

“Then that makes two of us,” he whispers, and then he’s kissing you languidly, his hips resuming their motions, though they’re slower this time, closer to what it was like at the beginning.

You love it all the same, holding him as close to you as you can, kissing him back with every little treacherous emotion you don’t want to name.

He really is too good to be true.

“I’m going to come,” he whispers against your mouth, and he sounds slightly surprised.

Like he didn’t think he could come from gentler, softer sex like what you’re partaking in right now. Yet you react accordingly, pulling on his hair just enough to sting.

“Yeah?” you let out.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

“Fucking come for me, Kook.”

The nickname unleashes him, and he pounds into you, chasing his high as you rake your nails on his back. A few deep thrusts later he’s coming, slamming to the hilt as his dick twitches inside of you, and he kisses you again, grunts and groans in your mouth as you take it all in, your walls pulsing around him like you’re coming too.

It takes you both a while to come down from the high, and Jungkook doesn’t move, stays there with his forehead resting against yours as you breathe in the same air. Your hands run up and down his back in soothing motions despite the thin sheen of sweat covering him, and he occasionally presses soft pecks on your lips that you immediately reciprocate.

Eventually the moment passes, and Jungkook slips out of you to lie down next to you instead, though he stays close, nuzzling his face in your neck as he rests his hand on your stomach. You feel safe, warm, and you wish the world could stop right now. You wish you could stay here, forever.

And tonight you reckon you’re foolish enough to believe you might.

Prev | Chapter 9.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

these two are so obsessed with each other, help :') hope you guys liked this chapter! Let me know what you think!!

#chasing cars ch 9 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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jarofstyles · 1 year ago

Text

Illicit

Hello my loves! Welcome to the first part of our next mini series we've been working on behind the scenes. The next 2 parts are available immediately on Patreon now, but will be updated here in the next few weeks!

Patreon

Warnings- cheating ( WITH y/n), Asshole Harry, I hate everyone but her, old money/wealth, toxic relationship dynamic, harry is mean and will be mean but not to Y/N lmao, smut

WC- 2.4k

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Harry had just finished cleaning himself of cum as his phone rang.

It was his girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’, really, because this wasn’t a real relationship. Not in his mind, anyways.

“What?” His voice was a sharp whip, already annoyed that the post orgasm bliss had been interrupted by Katherine. Y/N was sitting next to him, her leg thrown over his thigh as fingers traced over his chest, absentminded circles pausing when she heard his attitude already. Her brow raised as he lifted the phone to show the name on the screen, making her nod, lips turning down. That irritated him further.

“When are you coming to get me?” A voice that pierced his ears made him close his eyes, a dull throb beginning to coast down his head. “Daddy said you’re coming to the event and you were going to pick me up!”

She was huffing like a child, not wanting to wait. Realistically, he would leave in 30 minutes. Y/N would stay curled up in his bed and wait for him to come home before he took her away to one of his family cabin’s with the rest of their friend group- the ones who knew of him and Y/N. He would spend the entire night trying to think of an excuse to get back to her early, and hoping Katherine wouldn’t throw a fit about not being able to come on this ‘business trip’.

“You live with your father. Could you have not shared a ride?” His tone was icy, something Y/N had never been the recipient of. Thank god, really. As sexy as it was to hear him talk like that to other people, it would definitely make her cry. The man was intense, even he knew that, but not everyone seemed to catch on.

“Hazza! Come on.” She whined. “He already left and stopped by the office. I’m getting ready now but we have to be early for the photos!” As if that was going to help her cause. It was like the girl had a handbook on how to say the wrong things.

Harry didn’t do those stupid step and repeats. While Katherine loved being the center of attention, it wasn’t something Harry desired. In actuality, he detested it. He hated paparazzi and had broken 2 cameras from having them in his face without a second glance. No aggression, the picture of calm with pure ice on his face as he did so. If they valued their possessions, they shouldn’t be shoving them in people’s way. That’s what he thought, at least.

“I’ll be there in an hour. I’m not doing those photos. I don’t care what you do. Now stop calling me when I'm in the middle of things. You know if I don’t answer once, wait for further instruction.” He paused. “And stop calling me that childish nickname. I don’t find it cute or endearing, it’s embarrassing. Goodbye.”

There was a sharp squeak as he hung up the phone and threw it to the ground, rolling Y/N around onto her back and sliding his still sticky cock back inside of her yet again. His annoyance was clear on his face, but it quickly melted away as her arms wrapped around him and her lips covered his face with soft coos, legs pulling him in deeper. Maybe she was a bit sore, maybe his last load was still dripping out of her messy hole, but she knew exactly how the man needed to express himself.

“I know.” Her silky voice wrapped around his tension and broke it down, slow thrusts inside of her quelling the bubbling irritation in his stomach and turning it into arousal. Y/N could read his stone cold features, knew what his eye twitch meant, the simple movement of a brow or the tiniest down or upturn of lip. This magnificent woman seemed to have him all figured out, and he felt like shit for having to leave and be seen with another woman. “I know, baby. Only a few more months.” Fingers stroked his hair back, guiding his lips to her own.

He kissed her back, eyes squeezing shut as he allowed himself to lose the anger that had developed by focusing on her. The heat of her cunt wrapped up tight around him, snug. Fitting him perfectly, just as it always had. Y/N was the one he had wanted to take to these things, but he had to wait. For once, his patience wasn’t being practiced.

The best thing in his life had to be hidden from most people, all because he had taken a stupid deal. He had to go out with the girl who thought she was going to be the next Mrs.Styles, while all he wanted to do was stay nestled in his luxury sheets with Y/N’s soft, supple body to worship.

It was all his fault, though.

He had always been ambitious. Ruthless, some may say, but he knew that to a degree he could be cruel to get what he wanted. That was how had been raised. His father had put that right into his head, doing anything for success, power, money… that’s how he ended up in this situation.

In order to secure the deal of a lifetime, he had agreed to date the man’s daughter. Maybe that sounded cruel, but he knew the intentions from the get go. The man was using his conventionally pretty, high society daughter to try and sweeten the deal- but he knew the true motivation. An attempt to get him into the family and continue having control of the company through his daughter’s supposed relationship with him. If only he had been smarter, if he had done more research. He would know he was sending a sacrificial lamb right into Harry’s awaiting lion jaws.

See, she had been no stranger to him. Katherine had been after him for quite a while. They were acquainted to a certain degree, running in similar circles and society dinners. The crush, more so the obsession she had with Harry had been no secret to anyone. She claimed to have been in love with him, but Harry knew what it truly was. A lust for money. An infatuation with the power he could secure her. She loved what Harry could represent for her, not only to secure place in the society she had been thrown into as she grew up- but to elevate it. She knew the score, knew what Harry’s ring could mean.

Katherine knew nothing of his true personality, his likes, his dislikes, his jokes. All of those things were reserved for the tiniest selection of people that she only knew of in passing. His real friends barely touched that superficial, vapid, bitter world. Katherine’s family was new money, looking to secure their place in society. Harry’s wealth went in decades, and it would most likely stay that way. Her vying for his attention didn’t shock him in the slightest.

The condition of dating Katherine for at least a year had been one he had wanted to scoff at, one he had wanted to tell Mr. Eugene Brant that it would be obvious what it was, but he was smart enough to bite his tongue and agree. Playing stupid was a superpower, letting him think he got one over on Harry and vastly overestimating his daughter’s appeal. One year of being toted around with her overly big smile and his signature scowl on his face hadn’t been an issue. It was something he would merely go through the motions of until the exact year was up and she would be out of his life.

At least, it hadn’t been until he met Y/N.

The first woman who had ever captured his heart and soul. Softened the edges of his razor sharp glare.

She hadn’t wanted to give him the time of day once she realized he had been flirting whilst not single. She hadn’t known the deceptive relationship and it hadn’t been her fault, but that didn’t mean Harry was going to leave well enough alone. Even after she had dumped her Shirley temple on his brand new pure cotton button up.

If anything, it made him want her more.

One thing about Harry? He was going to get what he wanted. He would bet anything on it. He was patient, stubborn, and fixated. Checking guest lists to see if she’d be in attendance to parties, see if she was going to hang out with his friend group, he was on the prowl to get her to talk again.

She had blocked his number already- he didn’t really have a chance to explain. He understood why, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up.

When he finally did have the shot to tell her the relationship was a hoax, she was still doubtful. Dubious looks sent his way as he had pulled them into a private room of the club they were at- one his father owned, funnily enough- his hand holding hers as he sat beside her to plead his case. He was strong and defiant, insisting that it was a means to an end and there was no clause saying he couldn’t date other people- but he would like to get to know her on a real level.

Against her better judgment, Y/N had fallen for the soft green eyes, the soft looking lips with the sharp cupid's bow and his even sharper tongue. Giving him one date was all he needed to get her on board.

Fidelity wasn’t a term in the contract he had signed. Stupid, stupid mistake on Brant’s part. A new money, no lawyer to look over, a hasty mistake that would most definitely come to bite him in the ass. Harry hadn’t honored fidelity in the slightest even before he met Y/N. Sex was an outlet for him, as was the gym, things that were pleasurable and stress relieving. He’d only slept with Katherine a handful of times, tapering that off when he saw it made her get more and more attached. She had obviously known Harry had a reputation and while the sex had been alright, there hadn’t been much to his benefit besides the fact that she swallowed his load.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard to find willing participants.

Sex with Y/N had completely rocked his world. He thinks, in part, it was because they had a real connection. She made him wait, she made him work his way up to that if he wanted- and made him stop sex with anyone else. As if he had any interest in anyone else. Y/N had taken up the majority of his brain that wasn’t filled with revenue and contracts and contacts and emails. She was his escape.

The first time they had sex, Harry had fallen for her. There was no question in his mind. Despite being positive that he wouldn’t ever marry for love, Y/N had him questioning that. She had flipped his entire world view upside down, made him weak in the knees.

Y/N wasn’t in the public eye. Her family had some elite ties, but she was friends with a lot of the quietly wealthy people who didn’t feel the need to showcase it to everyone who looked with tacky labels and monograms. She’d gotten into one of the best schools, gotten her degree and continued her friendship with her roommates and best friends- who just happened to be the girlfriends of some of his best mates. The real ones. There were only a few single members of the groups, and Y/N had been the new blood that had people wondering. Harry had been interested immediately.

It was about 4 months into their relationship and everything still felt fantastic. Y/N knew more about Harry than anyone else ever could. She was the one with the key to the future, even if she didn’t know the exact depths his feelings went to.

“I don’t want to go.” His lips parted from hers. “I want to stay here… want to stay buried inside of you, want to feed you your chocolate and lick it from your tongue.” Inhaling his words, she moaned as his hips rolled and he found his home back at her most sensitive spot. He had spent hours finding it, claiming it, and he knew it was his. “Spent all week working… I just want my sweet Angel.”

Noses brushed against one another, Y/N’s bleary eyes opening up to look at his own. Hazy, dark green, hooded. She gently dragged her nails over his shoulder blades, arching up into him and pressed a bit harder on the skin to make him moan in surprise. “You have me, Harry.” She whispered. “You have me now. Leave with my traces on your cock… then come back and take more. We leave tomorrow… and you can hold me how you like. Kiss me. Our friends don’t care. They’ll keep our secret.” Even if it was forbidden, their tight knit group knew exactly what the relationship between Harry and Katherine really was- and none really liked her. They knew Y/N made him happy, softened him up, they’d all been rooting for this. Their safe space. The only ones who knew.

“She won’t ever have me.” He reassured. “I’m yours. I want your marks on me.” Breathing harder, his thrusts getting a bit more deep. “Make me bleed. C’mon, my sweet girl. Paid for those nails… give me what I want.” Her cunt quivered around his prick, making him smile. She pretended not to like that sort of thing, but she got them done specifically for this. To quench his thirst for pain, for marks. They loved it. “She’ll never have me like this. I’m yours.” He whimpered, the freak of the bed and their noises filling the room. “M’yours, baby. My sweet Angel… stay in my bed and wait for me. I’ll give you everything. Just wait for me.”

She would. She would wait for him, to be his fully, as long as it took.

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