#don’t be me. get more than six hours of sleep a night

[readingwriter92]

Y’all I really need to stop thinking I can drink caffeinated drinks-

[moody-alcoholic]

CW: stalking behaviour, over protective 141, fluff.

“See her coming out now.” Ghost says over the radio.  

“Afirm.” Soap’s voice comes back almost instantly. Ghost watches as you stumble over the pavement, pulling your jacket over your shoulders. It’s almost 3am, and most clubs are closing. The friend you came out with left an hour ago. Now you’re alone, drunk, swaying through the streets of London on a busy Saturday night. 

“Watch your distance Soap, no need to spook her.” Price says.

“Copy.” Soap says as he weaves his way through the crowd of clubbers spilling out of the various nightclubs and bars. He keeps his head low, making sure to keep a safe distance from you. They’re not going to lose sight of you though. That’s what Ghost is for. 

He slips between the crowds on the other side of the street, slipping into the shadows every opportunity he gets. 

“She’ll take the next right. Don’t lose her.” Price says as you pick up your pace slightly. He’ll be driving to the next location, ready to pick you up at a moment's notice. You pull your phone out, typing while you struggle to keep your balance. Ghost lost track of how many drinks you had. 

It was a celebration after all, your friend getting a big promotion, she took you to one of the fanciest bars in the city. Even though she left early you still seemed to be having fun, helping yourself to another drink before finally deciding to call it a night. 

The streets off the main road are darker, quieter. Less room for error.

Suddenly you make a sharp turn, almost throwing your body down a dark alleyway. Ghost’s lost visual, he speeds up his strides, he has no idea if the alley is a dead end or not. 

“Soap, don’t lose her.” Ghost orders panic building in his chest. There’s no reply, now Ghost can’t even see Soap. “Soap, confirm visual on the target.” 

Ghost jogs to the next street over, nothing but shuttered buildings and the odd person heading home. 

“Stand-by.” The seconds feel like they’re ticking on for hours. “Eyes on target, she’s-” 

The line goes silent. 

“She’s just throwing up, seems like she’s had a few too many.” Soap says. Ghost can almost hear the collective sigh as he slips back into the darkness waiting for you to emerge from the alley. When you do you seem even more unsteady on your feet. 

“Keep it tight, she’s got another main strip to cross.” Price says. He’ll be moving on already. The amount of times you’ve walked this route. The amount of times they’ve practiced this route, it’s almost like a rehearsed play they could do in their sleep. 

You move on weaving through the growing crowds of the next cluster of clubs. They seem busier than the last. You work through them quickly, Soap keeping his distance, pushing through people without a care. He has one motive, one mission; never lose sight of you. 

As you make it to the quieter end of the street a group of lads cat-call you. You brush it off waving at them as you skip over to the next turn. Almost home. 

“ETA 10 minutes.” Ghost says hugging the shadows on the opposite side of the street. 

“Copy,” Price says, he will be in his final position. For the next few minutes the walk goes smoothly, you’re almost home, almost safe. 

“Got a guy on her six, just overtook me.” Soap says. Ghost’s eyes flick over in an instant. 

“I see.” Ghost says, watching as the man’s pace slows. “Hang back Soap. I got eyes.” 

Ghost doesn’t even hear a reply, his eyes digging into the man now following a few steps behind you. You seem to notice too, quickly taking a peak over your shoulder, pulling your jacket around you tighter. You’re almost there, almost home. 

“Want me to grab him?” Soap asks. As he says it you pick up your speed, your body straightens up. 

“Negative.” 

You turn into the front garden of the house, shutting the gate behind you. The hairs rise on the back of your neck as you fumble with the key pressing it into the lock and opening the door. The feeling of being followed suddenly fades as you make it inside, locking the door behind you. 

“Hey, welcome home.” Kyle says, sticking his head out the kitchen. You smile walking over to him and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“It’s late, you didn’t have to wait up.” you say pressing your lips on his. He kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist. 

“Needed to make sure you got home safe.” You hear John say. You break from the kiss looking over at him sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in front of him. You walk over wrapping your arms around him from behind squeezing him. 

The smell of tea fills your nose and makes you thirsty. 

“Cuppa? Or bed?” Kyle asks, walking over, placing his hand on the small of your back. You hum looking round the kitchen.

“Where’s Johnny and Simon?” You ask. 

“Sleeping, they’re not used to staying up as late as you are.” John chuckles. You smile looking up at Kyle.

“Bed.” You say. He smiles back at you kissing the top of your head. 

“C’mon, I’ll give you a hand.” Kyle says pulling on your waist turning you to the stairs. John hears you giggling as you stumble up the steps to the first floor. A few seconds later the back door slowly opens, Johnny and Simon slipping in. John raises an eyebrow, quickly checking behind him to make sure you’re definitely gone. 

“You better hurry up, I’m pretty sure she’s looking to climb into your bed tonight.” John says as Simon and Johnny look at eachother. Johnny's smiles, taking his coat off and leaving his radio on the kitchen island. 

“Get some rest cap, you look exhausted.” Johnny says, patting him on the shoulder as he passes him. John sighs looking up at Simon. 

“Another successful night.” John says as Simon puts his radio down. 

“Always.” Simon smiles.

_______

👏zero👏self👏control👏

[luveline]

could you write bombshell!reader getting a tattoo of spencer’s name or something that reminds her of him and his reaction please?

“Why are you kissing me?” you mumble, your voice hoarse with sleep. 

They’re light kisses. “I’m going now,” Spencer says, matching your quiet tone. 

“No.” 

You wrap your arm behind his neck and feel his hair against your wrist. His nose and lips warm your jaw. 

“Yes.” He kisses your jaw. “I have to go, but I didn’t wanna leave without a kiss.” 

That’s really sweet, he’s so sweet, you’re so tired. “Please don’t go, Spencer.” 

“I have to go.” He readjusts your hugging to hum against your temple, distinctly content despite your pleading. “I’ll be back by six for dinner, promise.” 

“Promise,” you say.

You get to keep him for a few minutes, regardless. His neck must sing bent as he is over you but he doesn’t relent, doesn’t move until you encourage his face back to kiss just under his bottom lip. “Sorry, I’m making you late,” you whisper. 

“No, no, I accounted for this. You’re on my agenda.” 

“How much time did you allot?” you ask through a smile. 

“Seventeen minutes. That’s how long we usually hug in the morning.” 

“Gotta get that time down,” you say. 

“Or up.” He holds your face. You turn your head into his touch and keep him for just another half a minute. 

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes flutter closed again, “you can leave, I’m gonna go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea.” He kisses you, and he says goodbye. You’re sleeping again before he’s even left your room

When you wake properly, you still feel loved, like a sunburn but with less stinging. There’s something very special about your boy; something permanent about the way he loves. You can’t imagine he’ll ever stop loving you like this, he’s embedded you so deeply into his life and his routines (and you���d beg him to keep you if he ever changed his mind). That in itself is crazy. You can’t have imagined begging a guy to let you stay, but for Spencer, you would.  

When he comes home that night, half an hour before six, you have no regrets. 

You hadn’t noticed how he was dressed when he left, but he looks lovely in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. Remarkably casual for him, you used to think he only wore t-shirts to bed, but the older he gets the better propensity he has for comfort. What makes it for you is the cardigan. 

“You look nice,” you praise, more than satisfied when the first thing he does after he takes off his shoes is lean down to hug you where you’re sitting on his couch. 

“Thank you.” He pats your back and pulls away. “You’re beautiful,” he says with ease, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Good day?” 

Your lips pucker into a twist. 

“What?” he asks. 

Unfortunately, he sounds deeply worried. 

“No, it’s nothing, I just hurt my arm. Can you have a look?” 

Spencer takes your arm. “What did you do?” he asks, pulling the sleeve of your shirt carefully up to your elbow. The Saran wrap confuses him, until it doesn’t, and he grins at your skin, before frowning again. His flickering emotions worry you, until he says, “Is that mine?” 

You hold your arm in the light. “Of course it’s yours?” 

It’s just a few words from a note he wrote you, perhaps too soon into your relationship for sweetness, and yet one you kept anyways. He told you the story of the I Love You lighthouse, or rather, the Minot Ledge lighthouse, and how the man who lived there had to live on a different island to his family while tending the lighthouse, so he would flash the light once, then four times, and then three times, one flash for every letter of each corresponding word: I love you. The note was left on your dresser. You’d slept together the night before, but he had to leave early. Nowadays he wakes you up, but  back then he’d been too shy. 

I want to be able to do that for you but I can’t find a lighthouse in D.C. that will let me in to try. I’ll keep looking. 

“I’ll keep looking,” Spencer reads. His thumb heistates just under your small font.

“It’s from that note you left me.”

“I know, I remember.” He does his awful frowny face where his eyelids lower and you're sure he’ll never smile again, he looks that upset. “You know this is permanent?”

“They do tend to be,” you say with a lovelorn sigh. 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should kiss you, or hug you, or… I don’t know why you’d do this.”

“But it’s okay?” you ask. It could make for a very awkward conversation if he doesn't like it.

“It’s perfect.” He holds your gaze. “You’re perfect.”

He acts like your tattoo is a gaping wound as he moves in to hug you, careful of your new ink, but relentless in the tightness of his arms behind your back. You laugh, then squeal at his insistence, a giggly girly thing that nobody else should ever hear but him. He doesn’t make fun of you, just squeezes you to him, his face pressed so hard to yours you can feel his cheekbones. 

“Now I just have to say something romantic for you to get tattooed and we’ll be equal again.’

“So we aren’t equal?”

“Um, no way.” Your laugh is self-satisfied and breathless. You turn your lips to his cheek. “I love you. I’m gonna build you a lighthouse.”

“Can’t believe you kept that note.”

“I have a whole shoebox of them. I love that you write them.”

He stops holding himself up, half on the couch and half in your lap as he hugs you with every bit of strength in his arms.

[ja3yun]

Please Be Real | P.JS

ex!jongseong x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut(mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, begging, hurt w comfort, petnames (baby, princess), mentions of intoxication, alcohol, heavy conversation around wanting children, badly written, reupload, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: you never thought you would hear the name park jongseong again until you get a call from one of his friends begging for your help a/n: hi! this is a reupload!! so if you think you've read it, that's because you have <3 i didn't edit this one and i think you will be able to tell since my writing is a little sloppy compared to now but i love this fic a lot. i was actually planning a new one today (sub jake) but i fear that one isn't finished yet! so please enjoy. as always, comments, feedback and reblogs are all welcome! love u <33

A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.

Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.

Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.

“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.

“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…

Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.

You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.

“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”

“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 

This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 

Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”

Jay. Park Jongseong.

It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.

Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your six-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.

It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.

But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.

And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.

Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.

Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.

The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.

His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.

“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.

As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.

Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.

Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.

“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.

With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 

You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.

As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 

He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.

As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.

With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.

An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.

Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward carefully, “Jjongie?” you say calmly, trying to pull him out of his dispaired state and avoid startling him. “It’s me, baby, look at me,” 

Jongseong's body tenses at your voice and he slowly lifts his head, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.

He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.

Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the stinging discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own hurt, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.

"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using the pad of your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.

Jongseong leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin. He desperately nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation of your touch, the very thing he has been yearning for.

It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.

Turning to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”

“You sure?” Jake asks with a raised brow, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you, pathetic and distressed.

Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves difficult as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.

"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.

His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.

With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.

"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.

Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.

You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount if he’s this bad..

“Like…two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces as he says it, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend. It was hard to watch him, pound spirit after spirit, and be helpless in telling him to stop. He’s not exaggerating either, he must have spent at least £600 in there. Each round was a triple, accompanied by a few shots to wash the Jack and Coke down.

"Oh, baby," you sigh softly, returning your attention to Jongseong. You press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. In some way, the scent of his shampoo also gives you some ease within the chaos. His response to your affection is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace. There’s a crushing wave of empathy that you feel wash over you right at this moment. It hurts, seeing him like this and hearing of his struggles - ex or not - you care about him, and you also understand his pain.

You need to get him home. He’s a fucking mess and the longer he stays like this, the more it’s going to wear all four of you out. So, with a gentle hand, you pull him back and lift his jaw up to look at you. It was probably the worst decision you could have ever made. He looks…broken.

"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, squeezing his chin as almost a gentle pinch, to prove you’re not letting him go. This instantly relaxes Jongseong, though, his hands still grip onto you for dear life. His friends go to help you, break him away and buckle him in the backseat, but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."

Sunghoon shakes his head, heavy concern etched on his face. "No way. He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the apartment without us.”

But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up. "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute and brooking no argument.

Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod, still teetering on the edge of arguing with you. But, they know better and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.

Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose. You’ve been in this state before too, so you can recognise the blackout glaze that he’s trying to fight away as he keeps his eyes on you. He’s so scared you’ll just vanish into thin air. “I’m right here. Go to sleep.”

Surprisingly, he listens to your reassurance, closing his eyes and drifting off, allowing you to slide into the driver's seat. You turn the keys as the engine begins humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.

_____

Arriving at his house fills you with a nervous energy that tightens in your chest. This wasn’t just his flat—it used to be your shared home. For two and a half years, this place held countless, irreplaceable memories, moments you thought you’d cherish forever.

You were the one who left, finding a new place closer to work and convincing yourself it was the practical choice. But deep down, you knew the real reason: you couldn’t bear the constant reminders of him that lingered in every room, every piece of furniture, every shadow of your life together.

Looking back now, it feels selfish. You left him here, surrounded by the remnants of your relationship, without considering how he might feel. While you escaped to a fresh start, he was left to live among the echoes of what you once had.

Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny, but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.

As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. 

The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times when life seemed so simple and easy. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.

You shake the thoughts away and guide Jongseong toward the bedroom. Each step feels heavy, as you’re encompassed with memories that surround you. He’s been living in a time capsule, and while you’re struggling to look at it all now, you wonder how he has managed to endure it for all these months.

His arm is slung over your shoulder as his weight presses down on you, however, it’s the feeling of his nose brushing against your hair that nearly stops you in your tracks. He breathes in deeply, and for a brief moment, it feels like he’s trying to ground himself in the familiarity of you.

You help Jongseong onto the bed, propping him up carefully. “I’m going to grab you some clean boxers, okay?” you say softly. He doesn’t respond, lost in his own haze, so you move toward the drawers on the other side of the room.

Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.

“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.

You’re no better, though. You think of the hoodie you tucked into your suitcase before you left, the one you’ve worn so many times on nights when the loneliness felt unbearable. Its scent is fading too, just like this shirt, but you still cling to it, just as he clings to this. Both of you, in your own quiet ways, are holding onto the fragments of a love neither of you has been able to let go of.

Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.

You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hello Kitty print that you've always teased him about.

Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.

As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.

He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.

“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he 

mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 

He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.

But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.

“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”

Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 

"Please, baby," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 

His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.

With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.

Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.

You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 

Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you from behind, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.

You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.

_____

Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.

Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 

Even if he wanted to open his eyes, he couldn’t - they were sealed shut, held together by something stubborn. Had he been crying last night? Wait, what did happen last night?

Fragments of the evening begin to resurface as he sifts through the haze: Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the chaotic vibe of the bar, and the questionable decision to ride the mechanical bull. After that? A blank.

As he struggles to piece it all together, you watch him futilely attempt to pry his eyes open. Deciding to help, you gently swipe your thumb across his lids, clearing away the dried remnants of tears and sleep. His body tenses at your touch, his expression clouded with confusion.

Was he hallucinating? The sensation felt so real - too real. Or maybe the girl he brought home last night had a touch uncannily like yours. God, he hoped it was the first one.

Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.

“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.

You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 

All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.

He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.

The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.

Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.

As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.

"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."

You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.

The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 

All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”

“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.

"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."

You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements - this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.

But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.

You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.

“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.

Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”

It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 

“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”

Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.

“That’s okay-”

“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry and interrupt him, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?

"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"

Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is truly laying himself bare to you.

But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."

You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.

"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?

Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.

So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.

"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.

In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 

"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.

"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.

Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.

You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.

His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.

You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.

It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.

Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 

The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.

He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.

Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.

"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.

With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.

Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.

"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.

With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.

You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.

You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.

As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.

“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.

Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.

But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.

“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.

“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.

Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”

“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.

Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.

With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.

"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 

Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"

You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."

Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.

"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.

The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 

Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”

You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.

You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."

With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."

As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.

Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."

In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."

Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.

With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.

“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.

After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.

Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.

As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.

With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.

In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 

His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.

After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 

But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.

He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.

“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.

You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”

“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.

The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 

Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.

You need one another to extinguish the fire.

“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.

“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 

Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.

His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 

He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.

“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”

He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 

You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.

Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.

“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.

“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.

So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.

Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”

You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.

“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.

So, with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you say, even if you are a day late.

[paarksunghoon]

FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.

or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.

NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).

WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.

***

“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”  

Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away. 

Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well. 

Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation. 

Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.

Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.

“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”

“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.” 

“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”

“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm. 

“Drive safe.” 

When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long. 

You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.

Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them. 

His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.

Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.  

At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash. 

Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another. 

The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people. 

It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another. 

Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life. 

His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day. 

Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life. 

Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up. 

(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)

Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since. 

The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb. 

You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own. 

The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time. 

I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning. 

Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes. 

Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist. 

Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side. 

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.” 

You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.” 

“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.” 

“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.” 

“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?” 

“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.” 

The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay. 

“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”

Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft. 

“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this. 

Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.” 

“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh. 

“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.” 

“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position. 

“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you. 

Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.

“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.” 

“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”

“I’m right here.” 

He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him. 

“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”

He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”

“Jay said you were asking for me.” 

“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you. 

“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.” 

“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”

“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist. 

Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door. 

“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys. 

“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off. 

“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car. 

“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp. 

“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling. 

It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile. 

“Need help?”

Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”

Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.

“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”

You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.” 

He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried. 

He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“What?” you ask. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”

“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.

“I love you.” 

Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment. 

When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him. 

You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him. 

The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck. 

“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” 

The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.

He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs. 

Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over. 

You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use. 

“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.” 

You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.” 

He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” 

Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.” 

“Was it any good?”

“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.” 

“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone. 

“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”

“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”

“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.” 

“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face. 

“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”

“And clingy, apparently.” 

Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose. 

While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you. 

Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat. 

He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy. 

“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.” 

“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.” 

Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh. 

“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head. 

“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it. 

“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.” 

“If we wake up early enough.” 

You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.” 

Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep. 

He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[erwinsvow]

it’s like you were put on this earth to bother rafe.

everyday, without fail, come some sort of request—rafe, let’s go get coffee. rafe, i want ice cream. rafe, i wanna go to bed. he tells you to go to bed and you whine immediately after, letting out a faint “not alone! not what i meant!” before he rolls his eyes, one huge hand settling on your hip and the other one on your back, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to bed. 

once you finally get him there it’s all laughs and giggles and avoiding his gaze, getting shy again, refusing to tell him what you really want. he rolls his eyes and gives it to you hard, like he knows you need it, so you’ll fall asleep and let him finish his work in silence. and it works—for a few hours, that is. then you're up again, usually with more requests.

“rafe, they’re having a sale.” you fiddle with your R pendant, the way you always do when you want something and can’t find the words to just ask for it. for a girl pawing at his dick and begging for it raw half the time, you get awfully shy. 

“so? how many fuckin’ clothes do y’need?” 

“you’re the one who keeps ripping ‘em up! not my fault-”

he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

"knock it off," he says, coming out louder and more frustrated than he meant.

then he watches you quiet down and scroll on your phone, biting your cheek. he thinks he messed up and made you cry. he feels bad the second it's done, because there’s definitely some pretty, tiny dress pulled up on the screen that you want to show him. 

he knows how your brain works at this point—you want him to get it for you, take you out to a cute dinner so you can wear it and then have him yank it off of you later that night. you won’t ask for it though, there’s your shyness again. 

you feel bad when he actually does buy you anything more than a six-dollar latte or a big ice cream that you can’t finish.

"what're you looking at?" he finally asks, not even a minute later, looking at your body resting on the complete other side of the bed now.

"nothing."

"you gonna do this right now?"

"do what?"

"just show me what you want."

"no, it's nothing. i'll just ask my other boyfriend for it, it's fine-"

before your sentence is finished, he's already on top of you, squishing your cheeks together, pinning you down. he stares into your eyes, maybe expecting tears, but they don't come. instead you look... satisfied. satisfied with yourself for riling him up like you wanted.

"yeah? other boyfriend?"

"jus' a joke, rafey." your voice comes out all quiet and squeaky since he's holding your face tight. your eyes are big and wide staring up at him. he hates that he's getting hard right now. he lets you go, rolling off and feeling your body sink into his bed.

“get your ass in the car.” it comes out as a statement, not a request. you comply immediately, leaning over to give him a wet, sloppy kiss before stumbling out of bed to grab your shoes. he gets up too, looking for his keys, when you come right back to give him a hug. you press your head against his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, breathing in his scent.

“thank you, rafe,” you murmur against his shirt.

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he starts, but you don’t miss the way the tops of his ears are flushed with pink. “get the fuckin’ address for that place out-”

he does take you out to dinner, a cute place where he pulls out your chair for you and holds your hand in his on the table. he gets you flowers that match the color of your new dress, which are resting in the backseat of his car now. he kisses your cheek when he helps you put your jacket back on. then he slaps your ass when you’re getting into the passenger seat of his truck, because now it’s his turn to have fun with that dress.

later that night, close to sleep, you paw at his arm and ask for ice cream. the two of you are on the road five minutes later. he turns his head at the red light to watch you lick your cone. then you hold it up to his mouth so he can have some too, smiling and laughing when he takes a big bite.

he's starting to think he likes when you bother him for stuff.

[penascigarette]

smooth operator ch 2. this bitch bites

Joel Miller x f!phone sex worker

➴wc: 7k | summary: you accidentally send a picture of yourself to joel which results in a video call

➴warnings: mdni, fxm phone sex, m&f masturbation, dirty talk

➴an: hi! tysm to everyone for all the love on the first part of this silly little series. I've been having so much fun writing and interacting with everyone. y'all are the best. feel free to come scream with me about this or anything <333

masterlist | series masterlist

For the rest of the night, your mind plays your conversation with Joel on repeat.

Elliot is asleep when you barge into his room, itching to share your dirty little secret. His limbs are sprawled like a starfish, his mouth hanging open, a light snore escaping him. He looks so peaceful that you decide against waking him. Instead, you sneak back to your room, feeling as if you'll explode if you don't tell someone soon. You’re a talker, and keeping this bottled up feels like pure torture.

Blowing a breath out, you stare up at the ceiling. How you feel isn’t easy to explain.

Your body is more satisfied than it’s been in a long time, aching for more.

Your heart agrees, thrilled at the thought of a forbidden relationship with this sexy, mysterious man. It hasn’t felt much since your last boyfriend—only pain and disappointment.

Your head, though, is another story. It reminds you how much trouble you could get into. Jane has a strict no-relationships rule between workers and clients, fearing the temptation to give free "sessions" or show favoritism. She’s all business, no play.

Dread swirls in your stomach. What you’ve done is dangerous, even if it was ridiculously mind-blowing. Joel wants a repeat; if you deny him, he could tell Jane.

You could always deny it… say it was just part of the act.

But your heart hates that thought. Even considering letting Joel down makes it ache as if you’ve already done it. How can you feel so much for someone after one phone call?

Because it’s exciting, the bad girl in you whispers.

You’ll get into trouble, your rational side argues, but it’s outnumbered.

Think about how amazing he made you feel, your body chimes in, tingling in remembrance. You came harder than ever, and he didn’t even touch you.

“God,” you groan, pressing your palms into your eyes until they hurt and you see funny lights. “I need sleep.” With no way to figure it out on your own, you know you need Elliot. For now, you push the thoughts away and try to rest.

Before you open your eyes, you know you’ve woken up ridiculously early. Something feels different—a sensation you can’t quite place.

You don’t have the cozy, half-asleep feeling you usually enjoy. The blankets aren’t warm or soft enough, and you’re itching to get up and do something. So, you throw the covers off, get dressed, and spend extra time on your hair and makeup. The effort gives you a bounce in your step, though the knot of unease in your gut remains.

Grabbing your phone, you head to the bathroom, use the toilet, and brush your teeth. There’s no noise from Elliot’s room—you doubt he’ll wake up for another hour. You go downstairs instead.

The kettle is still full from yesterday, so you flick it on and get your coffee ready. You debate making breakfast but decide against it—eating without Elliot feels wrong.

Less than a minute later, the water boils. You pour it into your mug, watching the steam rise before curling up on the sofa.

Being awake this early makes you feel like you could get so much done. Maybe you’ll work out after coffee, or tidy up and throw out the takeaway boxes before more clutter piles up. 

But your mind drifts back to Joel. You wonder about his morning routine. Does he put effort into his appearance because he’s good with women? You imagine him with a six-pack… God, you hope he has one.

No, stop, you think, shaking your head. What does it matter? But the thought of him only makes your fantasies steamier.

Your plans are forgotten, and you spend an hour imagining every inch of him. You don’t even notice your coffee going cold until Elliot flops onto the sofa beside you.

“There you are,” he says groggily, rubbing his eyes. “Ooh, you made coffee.” Without asking, he takes your mug, grimacing after a sip. “This is cold. How long have you been sitting here?”

“About an hour,” you admit with a shrug.

“Oh.” His brows lift. “How come, honey?” Concern laces his tone.

“I have something to tell you.” Finally, the words spill out, and you shift to face him.

“Did you finally shave your legs?” he asks, deadpan, taking another sip of coffee.

“Shut up. It hasn’t been that long, okay? This is serious.”

“Fine.” He smirks. “Go on.”

“I had phone sex last night.”

His brow furrows. “Sweetie, phone sex is your job. Are you feeling okay?” He places a hand on your forehead.

You roll your eyes, batting his hand away. “Not like that! I got off with him.”

Elliot’s jaw drops. “You… you flicked your bean to a client?”

Guiltily, you nod. “In my defense, he has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. And he’s amazing at talking dirty. Better than me!”

“Really?” Elliot’s skepticism is written all over his face.

You nod, leaning closer. “He said things like… ‘spread yourself open’ and ‘you’re such a good girl for me.’ He even told me to force my clit out of its hood! Most guys don’t even know what a that is!”

Elliot blinks, grabbing a cushion to cover his lap. “I completely understand.”

You laugh, though the thought of getting in trouble dampens your mood.

Elliot waves dismissively. “Just don’t tell anyone. I won’t either. In fact, I expect details from future calls.”

You snort. "I don't know if there will be any more."

He looks at you like you've grown another head. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to get in trouble for this," you admit, biting your lip for a moment. "Even if it was incredible."

"You won't get into trouble." He sounds so sure. "Seriously. I may or may not...have done the same thing. More than once," he mumbles the last part.

"What!?" you exclaim, wondering how the hell you're only just hearing about this. "Why haven't you told me?" You poke your bottom lip out at him. "You're keeping a lot of secrets from me lately."

He pinches your lip between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to pull it back into your mouth. "I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I don't tell you every time I jack off to porn, now do I? As for my date with Danny, I told you as soon as I had the balls to."

"But it is a huge deal," you argue.

"Yeah, to you, but...you're a bit of a prude."

"I am not. How can you be a prude when you work as a phone sex operator?”

"You are," he teases lightly. "When you had that one-night stand after you and Ben broke up, you cried for three days."

Your shoulders slump, and you mumble, "I was ashamed."

"Well, you shouldn't be," he says firmly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Sex is beautiful. And fun."

"That's easy for you to say," you point out. "You're a man. Women get labeled and judged." And oh boy, do you hate being judged. It's why you don't tell people what you do for a living.

He softens at that. "You shouldn't be so worried about what people think of you. You only live once."

"I know," you mumble, not knowing what to say to that. Because it's true—you shouldn't be so concerned about others' thoughts of you—but it's not something you can just switch off. You change the subject. "So tell me about the times you've...you know." You know it’ll make you feel better.

"Well," he licks his lips and puts one hand on the back of the sofa while the other holds his coffee. "The first time, I can't even remember his name. He called when I was in the middle of getting off, and we ended up getting off together with my porno playing."

You both laugh at that.

"The second time," he continues, a certain fondness in his tone. "Was this guy called 'K.' I don't know why. There was just this... attraction, and we did it. Then it just became this thing."

You frown in confusion. "A thing? Does that mean you still do it?"

"Yep," he pops the 'p' with a grin. "He doesn't call very often, though."

"I can't believe..." you break into a breathless chuckle because here you are, worrying your ass off, and it's actually no big deal. Well, as long as Jane doesn't find out. "This is crazy."

"Maybe," Elliot shrugs and then wiggles his eyebrows. "But isn't it so much more fun that way?"

You have to agree.

___________

That night, you find yourself itching for Joel 's call. You’ve even stripped yourself naked in preparation. If that’s not eager, you don’t know what is.

Every time your phone rings, your heart leaps into your throat. It's ridiculous to act like this because of a man you don’t even know, but for some mysterious reason, he's caught your attention, and you're not letting him go anytime soon.

When it turns out it’s not him on the other end of the line, you find yourself entertaining the idea that he lied when he said he’d call again tonight. Maybe he only said it to keep you happy, or he hadn’t known what else to say.

Although he seemed interested. Interested enough to ask for your real name...you’re not counting him out quite yet. The night isn't over.

It takes another two phone calls before his name finally flashes on your screen.

Almost immediately, your stomach twists with excitement, and an ache starts to form between your legs. You're nervous but in a good way. It reminds you of the very first time you had phone sex with a client. When you manage to calm yourself down, you answer the phone, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey, you." Does that sound okay? You hope so.

"Hey," he greets, his voice wobbling just a little. Maybe he feels the same way you do. "How've you been?"

You blink, momentarily stunned. Did he really just ask that? None of your clients ever ask how you’re doing. Not that you’re complaining—it’s nice to be treated like an actual human being instead of just a way to get off.

"I'm great," you say honestly. "What about you?"

"Much better now," he replies, and you bite the corner of your lip to keep a goofy smile from breaking through. "I have to say, I've been thinking about you all damn day. Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk around with a near-constant boner?"

You’re already gushing down below. Squeezing your thighs shut at the image he’s planted in your mind, you reply breathlessly, "Can't say I have, but I know what it's like walking around with a fountain in your panties all day long."

His laugh is dark. "A fountain? Sounds like someone's been thinking naughty thoughts."

 "More than one, actually."

"Mm," he hums in approval. You hear rustling in the background as if he’s settling in. "Tell me one of them."

There are so many to choose from, but one stands out. "Okay," you say, licking your lips. "But you can't laugh, okay?"

"I wouldn't dare," he assures, though you can hear the amusement in his voice.

"Right." You take a deep breath. "So... it's a student-teacher fantasy."

"Ah," he responds knowingly.

"Yeah, so, you're the teacher, and I'm the student." Christ, you can’t believe you’re actually saying this. It feels stupid and embarrassing—so much easier to talk about other people’s fantasies than your own. "I have detention, and it’s just you and me in the classroom. You’re looking over schoolwork, and since you’re distracted, I decide to, you know."

"Say it." It’s a command, and the increase in his breathing tells you this is getting him just as hot as it gets you.

"I play with my pussy," you admit, scraping your teeth along your bottom lip. "I slip my hand down my panties, find my clit, pinch it, and rub it. I hold back my moans because I don’t want you to hear." Without realizing it, your eyes shut, and your hands wander down your body, acting out the fantasy. You’re already wet—so wet it surprises you, soaking your thighs and dampening the sheets.

"Fuck," he draws the word out. "You think you’re being quiet, but you’re not, Princess. And your pussy’s so fucking wet I can smell it from my desk."

"God," you choke out, your breath hitching. "I don’t care that you know. I’m too close—I don’t even care if you see." You’re not lying; you’re so close, but not ready to finish yet. Leaving your clit alone for a moment, you slide two fingers inside yourself—they glide in easily. "In fact, I move further down the chair and spread my legs so you can see what I’m doing."

Both of you are worked up now. You hear him stroking himself hard in the background.

He growls dangerously. "I know exactly what you want, Princess. I come over to you, throw the table out of my way, and sink to my knees. You’re so fucking wet I can see everything through your white panties. It’s clinging to your slit and your poor swollen clit."

"God."

"My whole mouth slots over your creaming cunt, and I suck the sweet juices through your panties."

Your pussy clenches hard around your fingers. "Jesus Christ. You’re so good." Your hand is practically swimming in your own cum.

"Your hard little nub doesn’t stand a chance against my tongue, and I have you gushing into my mouth in under ten seconds."

You have no self-control. You don’t want to come yet, but your hand has a mind of its own. Before you know it, you’re going over the edge.

"Ohmygod, Joel !" you squeak embarrassingly, thighs shaking around your hand as you rock your hips, trying to prolong the sensation.

"Did you come?" he asks, both amused and proud.

"You didn’t give me much choice," you reply weakly, tiny waves of pleasure still coursing through you as your hand lingers.

"Hey, I’m not complaining, trust me," he says. "The sounds you make when you come are heaven, baby."

You blow a stray piece of hair off your face and finally pull your fingers out. "Have you come? Do you want to keep going?" you ask. "I didn’t even get to the part where I give you an epic blowjob."

"Please, by all means, continue."

You grin. "All right. So after that mind-blowing orgasm, I kiss you so I can taste myself on your lips."

"Fuck, that’s hot, Princess." You hear him stroke himself faster.

"And I grab your tie, walking you back to your desk. I make you sit down." The thought of touching him excites you all over again, and you circle a nipple with one finger. "I kneel between your thighs and unzip your pants. Your dick is so hard it’s leaking pre-cum through your underwear." God, you’re desperate to taste it. You tell him that, too.

"Keep going," he orders, his voice strained.

You do. "I lick the fabric, but it’s not enough. I grab your cock and bring it to my lips. God, you’re fucking delicious. I rub the head all over my lips, needing to taste more of your cum." Shamefully, you mean every word.

"I’m so close, Princess," he groans, his pace quickening. "Just a little more."

"I take you into my wet, warm mouth. You’re so big and hard I can barely fit my lips around you. I hollow my cheeks and suck like I would a lollipop, my tongue stroking underneath your shaft. I can feel you getting close because you start pulsing in my mouth. I go faster, wanting to feel you spill down my throat."

He finally releases with a harsh moan. "Damn, Princess."

You blurt out your name correcting him before you can stop yourself.

He’s still catching his breath. "What was that?"

You repeat your name, unsure if this is a good idea but knowing it’s too late to turn back. "It’s my name."

He repeats it smoothly, the name rolling off his tongue. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."

You scoff, rolling your eyes to stop yourself from smiling. "You don’t know if I’m pretty or not."

"I don’t have to see you to know you’re beautiful."

His words touch you, but you doubt he’s worked all this out after just two phone calls. You humor him anyway. "That’s sweet of you to say."

"I better get going. Gotta get up for work in the morning," he says with a genuine yawn.

"Oh?" you ask, curiosity piqued. "What do you do?"

"I’m a fireman."

Your eyes widen, and you instantly regret asking. Now you’ll be up all night fantasizing about him in uniform. "Oh god, that’s sexy," you blurt out.

"I’m glad you think so," he chuckles. "Maybe we can work it into our role-play tomorrow?"

"That’s a fantastic idea," you agree eagerly.

"All right," he laughs. "Seriously, I gotta go. Sweet dreams princess."

"Yeah," you reply, already looking forward to the next conversation. "You too, Joel."

__________________

"Tell me how big you are," you demand lightly, still tingling blissfully from your orgasm. You finally remove your hand from between your legs and use your damp fingers to trace circles around your hard nipples.

Joel laughs, the sound a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. "It's probably going to sound like I'm bullshitting, but... seven and a half inches."

You decide to believe him. Sure, he could very well be lying—lots of guys do. Practically every man you talk to claims to have a big dick. It’s all part of the fantasy. But Joel feels different. "Wow... that's huge."

Your body responds instinctively, a clench of anticipation as you imagine how full he could make you feel.

"Yeah... well, I've had no complaints," he says, sounding both bashful and proud.

"You sure?" you tease. "I bet there have been a few comments about you being too big or going too deep."

He laughs again. "When I was younger, yeah, but I learned pretty quickly that every woman is different. I like to get a feel for her using my fingers first, see how much she can handle."

You can’t help it; a vivid image of his fingers working you over, his muscular arm straining against your thigh as he tests your limits, flashes in your mind. Jesus, you could come again just from that thought. You stumble out a response. "Oh, I, uh... yeah, that’s good of you."

"Only fair. They're lettin' me have sex with them, least I can do is make sure they damn well enjoy it."

What a gentleman, you think. How many men actually care if a woman is enjoying herself? In your experience, they get off without a second thought for you.

"I wish more men were like you," you tell him honestly.

"Well... I wish more women were like you."

That catches you off guard. "Really? In what way?"

"I don’t know... you’re just so open. Sexually, I mean. You’re not afraid to tell me what you like. You’ve got a great laugh, too. And you’re so damn easy to talk to. I feel like I could tell you everything."

The words make your heart flutter. Compliments from clients are nothing new, but they usually run along the lines of, "You’re so good at talking dirty," or, "You made me come so hard." None of them are as sweet or genuine as what Joel just said.

And none of them make you think about how easily you could fall for him.

As soon as the thought enters your mind, you push it away. How ridiculous. There’s no way you should be falling for a man you’ve never met. You don’t even know what he looks like. Having a crush is one thing, but love? God, I’m turning into one of those women who fall for anyone just because they say the right things.

And the saddest part? You’re pretty sure Joel isn’t even trying.

"Princess? You still there?"

His voice pulls you from your spiral. You don’t know how long you’ve been silent, but the realization is both embarrassing and unprofessional. You’re wasting his time—and his money.

"Sorry, Joel," you apologize. "I totally zoned out. I -I’ll refund you for the call."

"Don’t worry about that," he says quickly. "Please, be honest with me. Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to overstep—"

Oh, god, he’s so sweet. You cut him off. "No, no! I swear, you didn’t. I was just... surprised, that’s all," you reassure him. "I really appreciate it. And... I feel the same way." You bite your lip. You hadn’t meant to reveal so much, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. "I feel like... I’ve known you forever."

"I’m glad," he says, relief evident in his tone. "Was worried I’d freaked you out."

"Not at all," you reply with a soft smile.

The conversation settles into a comfortable silence. The reality of your situation dawns on you: You’re discussing feelings—real feelings—with a client. A man you’ve never met. You don’t know his last name. It’s been, what, a week?

But you want to know him. Desperately. Maybe you’re crazy. Maybe you’re just lonely. Or maybe you need something deeper than the physical connection you’re used to.

The sound of a beeping line breaks the moment. "Damn it," Joel curses. "They need me at work. I’ve got to go."

Immediately, you feel a pang of guilt. He didn’t even get to finish. "Listen," you say impulsively, "I’m going to text you my personal number, okay? When you have a chance, call me, and we’ll finish what we started."

There’s a pause. "Wow," he says finally. "That would be amazing. I could text you throughout the day, too... only if you want, of course. Don’t wanna cross any boundaries."

If anything, it's you crossing boundaries. “I’d love that." You respond honestly, your heart fluttering and a fuzzy feeling settles in your belly. You really like him, don't you? Crap.

He chuckles, and you can almost hear his grin. "Good."

—-------‐

How'd the baking go? You still alive?

You breathe out a laugh as you open and read Joel's text. It's been about a week since you gave him your number, and you haven't regretted it for a second.

Like shit, I can't have cooked it long enough because it was still gooey in the middle. But we're all still alive...for now. 

You send the text before glancing over at the modeling shoot, which is now where your living room used to be. White material hangs from metal frames, creating a backdrop for the pictures. Standing lights are positioned opposite. The photographer your mom hired is here, and your house is his studio.

Elliot is currently looking through the outfits he and your mom spent all of yesterday shopping for, now hung from a clothes rail. Some of them are latex and kinky as hell, others flimsy and revealing.

Your mom is busy pulling on a gray mini skirt. She’s already wearing stockings, a white, revealing blouse, and a tight gray blazer that cuts off at the elbows. You know she has a pair of glasses to complete her sexy secretary look. All she needs is a messy updo, and she’ll be ready to go.

You have to admit, the fake breasts she bought five years ago look fantastic in that shirt. You’re almost jealous. They look better than yours.

Elliot, meanwhile, is shirtless, with a pair of leather pants covering his bottom half. He looks amazing. His hair is messy, like he just had sex, and he’s debating with your mom whether or not he should use some eyeliner to make himself look darker and more mysterious.

You remain firm in your decision to stay out of the photo shoot. Even though you wouldn’t have to be naked, the idea doesn’t sit well with you. People could recognize you—friends from school, old work colleagues, or that bitch who stole your favorite hair clip in swimming class when you were a teen. The thought of any of them knowing—or worse, judging—what you do for a living makes you die a little inside, even though you know in your heart it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re just too sensitive, you guess.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, signaling an incoming text, and you glance down at the screen, your attention no longer on the shoot. It’s Joel  again.

Ah... remind me to do all the baking if I ever work up the courage to ask you out.

Your lips part in shock before they curve slowly. He wants to ask you out? Wow… you trap your bottom lip between your teeth as you type your response.

Deal. You finding that courage any time soon?

You hesitate, then press send before locking your phone and leaning your elbows on the counter in front of you. Your eyes follow your mother’s movements as she practices poses in front of a large, stand-up mirror. You’re on kitchen duty since you’re neither a model nor a photographer, which means it’s your job to keep their coffee topped up.

“What do you think?” Elliot asks, his question floating to no one in particular as he studies himself in a small pocket-sized mirror. A black eyeliner pencil sits in his other hand.

You tilt your head, examining his eyes. One is framed in sharp black, while the other remains untouched. “Go with the eyeliner,” you say after a moment. “It matches your leather look.” You gesture toward his trousers.

Without looking up, Elliot starts lining his other eye. “Thanks, babe.”

You curl your lips in a faint reply, even though he can’t see it. Your phone buzzes again, and you quickly check the message on the screen.

I'm working on it ;)

Good. I'm looking forward to it ;)

You bite your lip, trying to hide your excitement. You don’t want your mom catching onto your texts; without a doubt, she’d know you’re talking to a guy. Then she’d question you until you gave up the goods.

A ping behind you sounds, reminding you that you were in the process of making another round of coffee. Slipping your phone into your pocket, you decide you’d better get the coffee addicts their fix.

The photo shoot ends up being a success—not that you were expecting anything different. They could have been real models, and it makes you wonder why they didn’t pursue a career in it. They’re honestly naturals.

And oh my god, your mom—you’re laughing now—manages to get a date with the photographer. He has to be about ten years younger than her. Not that it stops him, of course. You and Elliot can’t help but exchange glances and giggle knowingly when it’s your mom’s turn to be photographed. The poor guy can’t take his eyes off her.

You hope it goes well, of course, but you doubt he’ll end up being anything more than a fling. Your mom just isn’t one to settle down. Not since your dad walked out when you were a baby and left her with a broken heart. You think she lost her faith in men after that.

Not that your experience with men is much better. Your ex was an asshole who killed your confidence and then cheated on you with someone you had considered your best friend at the time. Pretty clichéd, you know. But unlike your mom, you still have hope that a Prince Charming will come along and sweep you off your feet.

And just maybe, that Prince could be Joel.

Yes, okay, it was still early days to be thinking like that but sometimes...you just know, you know? There’s a fluttering in your stomach—a warmth, a feeling of pure happiness, safety, and understanding. It’s not the same as those first-date butterflies you had with your ex, when everything was exciting and new. No, this is something different, something deeper. You can’t quite explain how—it just is.

"Hey, you’ve got a package down here!" Elliot sing-songs from downstairs, pulling you out of your thoughts.

A package? What could it—Oh! You remember the top you ordered online and let out an excited squeal. Quickly, you step out of the shower. You were finished in there anyway.

"Coming!" you call down to Elliot, quickly drying yourself off and slipping into your plain black bra and underwear. You rub the towel through your hair, barely giving a thought to your state of undress as you head downstairs. Elliot wouldn’t care, anyway.

As you step into the room, Elliot whistles from the sofa, his legs tucked underneath him and one arm draped along the back. “Looking hot, girl!” he teases, flashing you a playful grin.

“Thanks, babe.” You lean over the back of the sofa and snag the package from his lap. Tearing open the grey plastic bag, you start digging through it eagerly.

“What’d you get?” Elliot asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Remember that top I showed you and Julie? The white one with ‘This Bitch Bites!’ written on the front?” Your fingers brush soft material, and you pull it free with a triumphant grin. Tossing the plastic to the floor, you hold the top up to admire it.

Elliot throws his head back in laughter. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, I did.” You flip the shirt around, showing it off with a dramatic flourish.

Elliot gasps as if it’s the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen. “I fucking love it! Do they have it in my size?” He reaches out to pinch the fabric between his fingers, giving it an approving nod. “Ooh, I like the material, too.”

“Yeah, I think so,” you say, gathering the shirt in your hands and pulling it over your head. You smooth it down and strike a pose, hands on your hips. “What do you think?”

 "Your boobs look awesome in that." Elliot nods approvingly. "Oh! Gimme your phone. I'll take a pic, and you can send it to Julie. I bet she'll wanna see it." He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers expectantly.

You instinctively reach for your pockets, but your fingers brush against bare skin, reminding you that your clothes—and your phone—are upstairs. "I'll go get it," you say, heading off.

After sending the picture, you grab a quick snack before making your way back upstairs. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you know you need to dry it before it starts frizzing.

You sit at your dresser, plug in your hair dryer, and get ready to turn it on when your phone vibrates with an incoming message. Setting the dryer down, you pick up your phone to check the text.

Damn, I hope she does, was the response, leaving you confused. 

Julie doesn’t text like that. You know how she is—always shortening her words until they’re barely readable, leaving you and Elliot to figure out what she actually means. And commas? Forget it. She probably doesn’t even know what one is.

You scrunch your nose, confused, your thumb hovering over the screen to text her back when another message pops up. This time, it’s from Joel.

You're fucking beautiful, by the way.

Okay, so that’s kind of creepy. How the fuck does he know what you look like? That’s when it hits you— the previous text was from Joel, not Julie like you’d assumed.

“Oh no…” you breathe, your fingers scrambling to scroll up through the conversation. And there it is. The picture Elliot took of you. You, wearing nothing but your white this bitch bites! shirt and black panties, your chest pushed forward so the writing stretches smooth across the fabric. And that picture? It’s been sent to Joel. Not Julie.

You growl out loud, “I’m going to kill Elliot,” your heart pounds like crazy. You spring to your feet, panic surging through you as you pace back and forth, trying to form a coherent thought. Did he do it on purpose? No, surely he wouldn’t—okay, yeah, he probably would. You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands before falling backward onto the bed. You land with a bounce.

And just when you think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the realization hits you. “I’m not even wearing makeup, Elliot!” you shout, your voice full of despair.

You know you should respond to Joel, but you're way too busy freaking the hell out.

He knows what you look like. That’s bad. So very bad. Why exactly it’s bad, you’re not sure. But the black hole churning in your stomach insists it is.

He thinks you’re beautiful, a calmer part of your mind whispers blissfully. Without makeup. That part makes you ridiculously happy. But it’s still bad…right?

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you try to think clearly. So what if he knows what you look like? It’s not like he can track you down with just an image. Sure, okay, he also knows your first name, but you don’t even have social media. Good luck with that, buddy!

...Really? Come on.

You shake your head at yourself. You know Joel wouldn’t do anything like that. You’re just freaking out and thinking irrationally. He’s a good guy, and you trust him. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have given him your real number.

Breathing in deeply, you lift your phone to your face and read his messages again.

Damn, I hope she does.

You're fucking beautiful, by the way.

This time, you allow yourself to smile, embracing the warmth that fills your stomach at his words. He’s so sweet, with just the right amount of dirty. He hopes you’re a biter... Naughty pictures flood your mind, and you squeeze your thighs together. You’d be a biter for him any day.

Your thumbs hover over the touch-screen keyboard as you consider what to respond to him. Deciding that honesty is the best policy, you go with:

Sorry about that! It was meant for my girl friend but my other friend is a total dick. I don't make a habit of sending half-naked pics to guys. I'm glad you like it though :)

A thought pops into your head, and you quickly type:

Since you've got a pic of me...maybe you'll be open to sharing one of you?

You nibble at your fingernail as you wait for his response. You hope you didn't make him uncomfortable by asking for a picture, but you honestly do want one of him. You're curious about what he could look like. You have an image of him in your head, but you dare say it wouldn't look anything like him. A few seconds later, you get a reply.

Ah, that makes sense. I did think it was a bit odd since you never mentioned anything about us exchanging pictures. I'm glad it happened, though. Maybe I should be thanking your friend ;)

Your lips curl as you get ready to send him a response when another text comes through.

Sure, you can have one of me as long as you'll excuse my appearance. It's It’s been a rough day at work, and I haven’t had a chance to shower yet. 

Again, you start typing your reply, your heart jumping into your throat at the thought of finally seeing his face when yet another text comes through. But this time, it isn’t words; it’s a picture. The picture you’ve been waiting for.

Your lips part and your heart falls back into your chest, doing a funny little dance. A slow breath escapes you as you can't tear your eyes away from the selfie he sent you.

Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe him. whiskey-colored eyes, lips so full it almost looks like he's pouting. A day or two's worth of stubble covers his lower face.

He looks tired but still manages a small, lopsided smile for you. His hair is a mess as if he's spent a good portion of the day running his fingers through it. Full lips and dark eyes. The picture is taken directly in front, and you can see his large Adam’s apple and broad shoulders. His shirt, from what you can make out, is completely white.

“Oh my god,” you mutter in astonishment. Honestly… the guy looks like a model. You find it hard to believe someone like him needs a sex operator to get off. He must have women falling all over him. He's a firefighter for fuck’s sake. It's like every girl’s wet dream.

It makes you wonder if he's telling the truth, or if he's been lying all along and knows exactly how to draw a girl in.

Worried and paranoid, you bite your bottom lip and finally text him back.

Is that really you? Or are you screwing with me?

His reply doesn't come in the shape of a text. Instead, you get a notification about an incoming video call.

Your eyes widen, and your first instinct is to reject it. Having just gotten out of the shower, your hair is wet, and your face is make-up-free. You don’t want him to see you this way, but then you remember that he’s already seen the picture you—well, Elliot—sent him. So, you accept it. It can’t have put him off that much since he's still talking to you.

It takes a moment for the call to connect, and you bite your lip harder.

And then there he is, looking just like he did in his photo. This proves that he'd definitely just taken it moments before, and it was definitely him. You feel guilty for doubting him.

 "Wow." His full lips twist into a big smile. "Hey there, beautiful."

Your butterflies return with a vengeance, and you grin back so hard your cheeks hurt. "Hey, handsome." You know your face is burning but you don't even care. You're nervous and aren't afraid to admit it. This is a big step for both of you. Who wouldn't have some kind of nerves? The hand holding your phone up shakes slightly.

He chuckles, rubbing his fingers over his lips. "I can't believe I'm actually looking at you. It's crazy. You're so gorgeous. You're perfect."

Your entire body buzzes at his words, warmth filling you. "Coming from you? You're so fucking sexy I thought you'd sent me a fake picture!"

You both laugh, the sound full of excitement, anxiety, and amazement. "No, no. I would never do that. I'm glad you approve though, I was worried I wouldn't be your type."

You splutter, "Dude...you have to be everyone's type." The nervous laughter continues. Neither of you really knows what to say or how to react, but you can't stop looking at each other with goofy expressions. "How was your day?" you finally decide to ask, figuring that maybe a more casual conversation might help you both get over the shock.

"My day?" He was grinning still, shaking his head. "My day...this has got to be the best day of my damned life."

It’s so sweet you could almost cry. Almost sobbing with tears in your eyes, you respond, “I know the feeling.”

You’re both too overwhelmed to have a normal conversation. You stay on the phone for hours, mostly admiring each other, smiling like idiots, and commenting on your disbelief of the situation. You’re in awe of each other, that much is obvious. Time quickly flies by, and you notice Joel starts to grow more tired by the second.

"Why don’t you get some sleep?" you suggest softly, one hand tucked under your cheek as you lay on your side, snuggled up underneath your duvet. You continue to hold the phone in front of you.

He groans and rubs his eye with his knuckles. It’s adorable to see. "I should...I really, really should." His hand drops, and he focuses on the phone, flashing you a sleepy smile. "But that means hanging up...and I don’t think I’m ready to leave you yet."

You giggle quietly, feeling genuinely happy. "I know the feeling," you say. "But it's getting late, and you have work in the morning. I promise we'll talk again tomorrow night. Plus, I'll be texting you all day, you know that."

He chuckles. "Damn, I just can't get rid of you, can I?" He teases.

"Nope." You pop the 'p', grinning back. "You're stuck with me now."

He sighs dramatically. "What have I gotten myself into?" You both laugh once more. "I'm joking, of course. Who'd wanna get rid of a gorgeous girl like you?"

You hide your face in your shoulder. "Stop, you'll make me go all giddy," you warn him, half serious.

He grins. "That's not gonna make me stop, princess. You're too cute when you're all giddy."

"Oh, Joel ," you sigh lovingly before you realize what you're doing. You can't help it though. He makes you feel so good. So joyful. You can't ever remember having this feeling. It’s as if you're on top of the world.

"Darlin," he purrs back, and your belly flutters. You fall into a small silence, and for a moment, just smile at each other. It’s actually pretty cheesy.

"We should go," you whisper reluctantly.

He nods. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Good night, handsome." Moving the hand tucked under your cheek to your mouth, you blow him a kiss.

He chuckles and acts as if he grabs it before placing it onto his lips and blowing one back to you. "Goodnight, pretty girl."

Taglist: @pedrito-is-punk7 @bitchytimetravelqueen @wh0reforbucknasty @joelsrose @justajoelsreader

@guelyury @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @ro-nahime-things @peepawispunk

[chelseeebe]

you win, i lose

we’re back with these two pathetic little weirdos, who cheered!! another follow up to gimme a hand, bump n’ grind and truth or dare or can be read as a standalone! i think i’m gonna give these two a break for now and work on some other things including some lovely requests i have<3

18+. mdni! smut with a little bit of plot this time! female!reader x eddie munson. no use of y/n. modern au i guess but it is so not mentioned or relevant

eddie sighs, a long, guttural sigh that on reflection, made him sound like a sad little dog.

“what the hell was that for?” barely looking up from your phone to talk to him.

he debates even saying it, terrified that you’d have his balls chopped off for uttering the words.

“don’t you think we’re boring now?” voice wavering as the words come out.

after six months of officially dating, your relationship had started to slow a little. no more making him cum in his pants or sneaky blowjobs in the bathroom at parties. it was sex or it was sleep.

the transition from best friends who shouldn’t be doing this to same old couple had been jarring, especially over the past week when eddie’s felt his dick was on overdrive.

“boring? huh? i don’t think we’re boring? we literally went to a gig tonight,” baffled by his insulting suggestion.

“not like that,” leering up at you from his side of the bed, “i mean.. when we have sex, it’s kinda boring,” shrugging, as if to lessen the blow of what he’d said.

your face crumples, both offence and perhaps a little hurt flash through your features. “wow, thanks eds. no, i actually didn’t think that at all.”

it’s in that moment that he realises, he’s fucked up. majorly.

“w- i’m- shit, no,” shoulders slumping, “you’re taking it the wrong way,” as if there were any other way for you to take it.

“i don’t think so, you couldn’t have been clearer actually,” sending daggers through his skull, “alright,” you place your hands on your hips, “you don’t get to touch me for a week, no kissing, no cuddling.. definitely no sex,” pouting slightly, “since that’s how you wanna be.”

“what?” eddie sits up, at full attention now, “you know i didn’t mean it like that,” fumbling to turn this around.

“i don’t care, you said it,” standing strong, “now you have to live with the consequences.”

his head rolls back against the headboard, immediate regret for anything he had just said.

god only knows if he’d live to survive the week.

-

that night in bed, eddie turns, huffing his frustrations into the pillow. it hadn’t even been twenty four hours yet and he already felt like he was going crazy.

his hand sprawls out over the mattress, edging to touch you, though he stops just before.

“you wanna give up already?” you taunt, staring though the darkness to throw another jab at him.

“no, i don’t. i just wanna cuddle my girlfriend in bed, is that too much to ask?”

“i told you the rules, no.”

“fuuck,” grumbling to himself, “this is stupid,” pouting to himself, in his self-inflicted drought.

“maybe don’t say stupid shit and this won’t have to happen again,” smug and self-righteous as you turn away, leaving him to yearn for just a brush of skin.

-

the party had been a bad idea from the start. eddie had never been so pent up in his life and it had only been three, long, miserable days.

you’d made sure to wear that tiny black dress, the one he really liked. struggling to even keep his eyes on the road on the drive over.

a few beers and a no-contact order could only mean one thing and he was dreading it.

you were adamant on making eyes at him across the kitchen counter all night, driving him literally insane. any other time, you’d have snuck off to the bathroom or gone home early but he knows there is a slim chance of that happening tonight.

you sidle up to him, mischievous glint in your eye as you slide something into his pocket before slinking off again, faster than he can compute.

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the lacy fabric just enough to realise what it was. quickly spinning on his heel so as to not let anyone else see.

your fucking panties. wrapped around his fingers for everyone to see.

there’s no hesitation about it, excusing himself to the bathroom before anyone could ask what he was doing.

holy shit. you’re fucking crazy. on another playing field completely. eddie almost wishes that he’d asked for your panties earlier, far before you’d decided to play these brutal games with him.

he slides them from his pocket, not before making sure the door was locked for the second time, holding them to his nose, like the freak he truly was.

oh god.

he misses you so bad. he’d take the most boring, uneventful missionary for the rest of his life if it meant you’d never deprive him of this ever again.

it takes a moment for him to regain enough consciousness to rejoin the party, keeping his fingers wrapped tight around the lacy material as argyle prattles on about some crazy new strain he’d discovered.

your eyes sparkle, waiting for him to meet your gaze. but he’s not giving you that. not allowing you the satisfaction of ruining him so badly.

-

the second the van is far enough away from the house, eddie wails loudly in despair.

“that wasn’t fair!” he whines, throwing his head back against the seat of his van, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life.

“it’s totally fair,” you refute, smiling away to yourself.

“no it’s not,” huffing like a petulant child, “i can’t give you my boxers to sniff.. it’s not equal.”

“i’m sorry- you sniffed them?” flabbergasted, “you’re a pervert,” collapsing into a fit of giggles.

“yeah i fucking did,” proud of his perversions, he was the most sexually frustrated he had ever been, sniffing your panties was nothing compared to what he felt like doing.

“weirdo.”

eddie wants so badly to reach over, slide his hand underneath your dress and really take advantage of the no-panties situation. he was getting hard just thinking about it.

it’s crazy how much you insulting him was actually turning him on more.

“please just let me touch you,” he pleads, “i’m sorry for what i said, i need you,” there had been a time where eddie had to make do with getting to feel your touch every couple months, he’s not sure how he ever survived.

three days and he felt like he was about to implode.

not only had he dreamed of your pussy, it had been haunting him in his mundane life too.

stuck under some dusty old car at work, only thinking about how good you felt, ignoring any of the actually important things he had to do.

“nuh-uh, you made your bed, now lie in it,” propping your feet up on the dash, causing your skirt to slide even higher.

eddie couldn’t believe you’d be so evil and cruel, even in his darkest hour you were depriving him of you.

-

at some point in the night, eddie’s brain must have decided that enough was enough. his half-asleep, dream filled mind doesn’t really comprehend what he’s doing, hand snaking around your waist, using your body as leverage to pull himself closer, pressed against your ass.

“eddie.. eddie,” you hush, shaking his arm. “you’re cheating,” voice still hoarse and sleepy.

“i give up,” he grumbles, slowly grinding his hips against your ass, “you win, i lose,” admitting defeat at long last. if only he had sucked up his pride enough to do this four days ago.

“four days.. four fucking days,” you scold, though make no effort to move away from him, “you can’t even last a full week, you loser,” chastising him was music to his ears.

“mhm,” he grumbles into the back of your neck, “keep being mean to me, i love it,” spare hand creeping down to shift your shorts to the side.

you laugh into the pillow, moving your hips backwards against his crotch, “you’re so pathetic,” you goad, only firing him up more.

“oh god,” he groans, still rutting against the soft fabric, “i’m gonna cum right now,” whining into your ear.

“if you cum without fucking touching me, i’m gonna be so pissed off,” your grip tightening on his forearm, almost pinching him.

he huffs into your hair, slowing his rhythm to a complete stop, hastily tugging on your pajama shorts, eager to get them off and his dick wet.

this can’t have been any better on you, really, not only were you punishing him, but yourself too.

your shorts rest somewhere around your ankles as eddie struggles to get his own boxers down, grunting in sheer desperation as his cock aches for you.

his hand slides underneath your tee, pulling it up with his arm, gripping onto your boob for leverage. eddie’s never been one to take control but if he hadn’t, he’s not sure you’d have ever touched him again.

wasting no time in hoisting your leg higher, his already leaking tip nudging your sopping entrance. confirmation that you’d been just as eager for it as he was.

“‘m so hard for you,” pushing himself between your folds, shuddering at the overwhelming feelings jolting through his limbs.

“shit,” you breathe, placing your palm above his as it gropes your fleshy skin.

“need you-oh god.. so bad,” senselessly thrusting his hips, slamming against your ass while the bed begins to rock, thanking his lucky stars that wayne was still at work.

“yeah? tell me, tell me how bad you need it,” gasping for air, your soft, angelic pants fill his tiny bedroom.

eddie groans, aching to please you but also unable to fathom the correct words needed to truly convey his feelings.

“y-you’re all i think about,” tightening his grip on your skin, “at work..” panting his words out between rhythmless thrusts, “at home- fuck oh fuck,” squeezing his eyes shut, hoping to make this last at least a few minutes longer.

nothing had ever felt so euphoric, frying his nerve endings, sending his brain into a hazy state that he just may never recover from.

“fuck,” you grit, clawing at his hand, “missed you so bad,” rolling your head back to rest on his shoulder, showing no mercy to his neighbours with your echoing moans. guaranteed to receive disgusting looks from david across the way for the rest of his life.

at this point, eddie becomes an incoherent babbling mess, eyes pressed shut as his stomach flips and turns in all directions. is now the time to start thinking about having kids?

“let me.. let me cum in you,” driven wild by the thought of filling you up over and over. a rare treat that really only lead to a week of stress for you both, but so incredibly worthwhile.

chanting his name right into his ear, other hand stuck between your thighs, circling your clit with an animalistic ferocity. you’d wanted this just as bad as he did, only you were clearly more strong-willed than he’d ever be.

not a second of this had been boring or anything he ever wanted to miss again. swearing to himself that he’d never be so to open his mouth foolish again.

“y-yeah,” nodding encouragingly, “please,” nearing your own, overdue orgasm.

eddie had been clued on to all the little signs for months now, tightening around him while your moans turned more into whimpers, jaw slack and your eyes rolled back.

“shitshitshit,” he rushes, certain he’d left indentations in your skin, “gonna cum- gonna cum in you,” making sure that you know what you’d signed up for, not that he had much choice.

his orgasm rocks his body, juddering as he paints your walls, howling as the overwhelming feeling washes over again and again. four days of built up energy all coming out in one.

you shriek, “oh god,” your body turning to putty between his arms, trembling as you cum, “mine.. all mine,” cradling his arm in yours, placing half-assed kisses to his neck.

he was, unashamedly so. no one had nor could ever come close to the way you make him feel. dragging him to the lowest levels of his pride just to boost him right back up when you said shit like that.

eddie doesn’t let go, scared that you’ll come out of your haze and get mad about his failed temporary abstinence.

you shuffle round under his grip anyway, face burning and your hair resembling a birds nest, though completely content as his release drips down your leg.

your palm slaps his cheek playfully, “don’t you ever call me boring again,” squishing his flaming hot skin between your fingers, “because you’ll never touch me again,” unsure of whether you were joking or not.

“yes ma’am,” running his fingers down your side, until they reach the curve of your ass, “that’s a promise.”

[blooming-violets]

private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?

[location based smut prompts]

The To-Do List

[tasm peter x fem!reader]

(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)

His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven. 

She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up. 

Peter, of course, had other ideas. 

He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms. 

“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised. 

Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome. 

His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent. 

She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body. 

“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. 

She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed. 

“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.” 

Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off. 

“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb. 

“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff. 

Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.

“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.” 

She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.” 

Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?” 

“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?” 

“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.” 

She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.” 

“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal. 

She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.” 

Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…” 

She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”

She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.

“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!” 

He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.

“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.” 

“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”

He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.” 

“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.” 

“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”

She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone. 

Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”

He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips. 

She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him. 

“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?” 

She whimpered.

“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply. 

All for her. 

It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her. 

Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass. 

“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”

She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.

“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap. 

“Peter, please,” she gasped. 

He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.

“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence. 

She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”

“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?” 

She whined and nodded. 

“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”

Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”

He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”

She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him. 

That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.” 

“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”

He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body. 

“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried. 

“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?” 

“No, baby, never. I could never-”

He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap. 

She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over. 

Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”

Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path. 

He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried. 

“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm. 

The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands. 

She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears. 

That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel. 

His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready. 

“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.” 

Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing. 

“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

The universe exploded into blinding light. 

She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman. 

Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine. 

Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn. 

He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat. 

“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”

All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing. 

“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”

She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries. 

He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.” 

He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down. 

“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?” 

She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased. 

His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow. 

Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him. 

With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down. 

He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily. 

Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more. 

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.” 

She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.  

His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling. 

Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…

For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.

[sleepynoons]

megumi x afab!f!reader (characters aged up), nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: unprotected sex, marathon sex, angry sex, slight degradation, senpai kink, slight subspace + dubcon, asphyxiation/choking just to be safe

notes: lmk if i missed any tags. anyway, had a megumi thought, and i had to write it out. reader is a little bimbo-coded, but really, i simply believe she's just too focused on fighting to notice her panties are showing and tights just feel too restrictive at times yk. anyway, this was truly just me writing with my clit, so don't take megumi's characterization too seriously.

megumi can’t believe the sight in front of him.

he’s imagined this hundreds – no, thousands – actually, millions – of times in his head, and even then, now that it’s finally happening, you’re more pliant and submissive and quiet than he had expected.

usually, you’re so energetic. always giggling at your phone or bantering with other sorcerers or humming under your breath, you’re so expressive, and you make sure your presence is known, intentionally or not.

and you’re especially relentless with him. since way back in high school, whenever he was in your view, you would race after him and give him the tightest hugs that would have him gasping for air. you would knock on his door in the middle of the night, just to drop off some extra snacks you bought at the convenience store. now, you blow up his phones with ridiculous memes and nonsensical drunk text messages, and he’s often supervising you after exhausting missions to make sure you don’t fall asleep in the bathtub.

but those aren’t his biggest concerns with your behavior. really, it’s that, for someone so strong and with such relentless stamina, you’re so… clumsy.

sometimes, you swing your sword so hard that you lose your own balance. he finds new bruises and cuts blooming across your knees and arms all the time. your butter fingers never cease to drop your water bottle, often spilling it on your white uniform and forcing him to give you his jacket so you can cover yourself up. there’s also the countless times where you’ve forgotten to wear tights underneath your skirt, inevitably flashing yourself… and the fact that he’s seen you only in a bath towel way too many times than he should, especially for someone who’s not dating you…

don’t you understand the uncomfortable position you’re putting him in?

well, tonight was his last straw. in the late afternoon, the two of you finally returned from a week-long mission. the mission was based in okinawa, so he was forced to share a hotel room with you (he’s still cursing the higher-ups for being so stingy). at least there were separate beds, but for all six nights, he had to restrain himself from brushing his fingers against your sleeping face. and as soon as the two of you got back, you invited him over to your place so the two of you could drink together in celebration of wrapping up.

no drinks have been touched. in fact, you didn’t even get the opportunity to enter your kitchen.

as soon as the two of you took off your shoes, he grabbed you by the shoulders to hold you still before dropping down to his knees in front of you.

“kick me if you don’t want this,” he said, looking straight at you.

you only gasped in delight before nodding enthusiastically.

since then, the two of you have been going at it for hours now.

at first, you reacted like he thought you would. loud, sultry moans, dramatic expressions, flailing arms and legs. but now that it’s been – three? four? – rounds, he’s shocked to see you acting quite the opposite.

with his forearms propped to each side of your head, he thrusts into you slowly. it’s hard for him to move when your legs are wrapped around his waist, forcing him close to you, but the slight friction that he can manage has you uttering soft sighs. you’re staring wide-eyed at him with a small, drowsy smile. your hands are holding onto the front of his t-shirt, and you seem to be drinking in the sight of his own flushed face and his abs peeking through.

“senpai, where’d all that energy go?” he asks.

you shake your head, before rubbing your cheek against his hand. you look so content, having his cock inside you, your lips kissed swollen, your tights utterly destroyed.

and at the thought, megumi’s angry again.

he sits up on his knees and adjusts your legs so that he’s holding them up in front of him. now that he’s not restricted, he’s slamming himself into you, hard, fast, without hesitation. you squeak, hands flying to dig your nails into your bedsheet.

he snarls, “at least wear a pair of shorts when you’re sleeping in the same room with someone else.”

you shake your head again and whine. “it’s not comfortable!”

he pulls completely out, before sheathing himself fully again. you finally let out a louder groan.

“i don’t fucking care if it’s uncomfortable - don’t do that shit around me.”

he knows he’s losing you a little, so he doesn’t even wait for a response. he’s broiling with frustration and annoyance, and nothing can stop him.

megumi rants. “i know you don’t even see me as an option, so you think you can do whatever you want around me. but think about my feelings, too. please. have you ever thought about how i’d react, seeing you prance around in nothing but your panties and a thin t-shirt? or your short skirt and sheer tights? would you still dress like that if you were on a mission with any other guy?”

he’s fucking you so hard now, hugging your legs to his chest and using all of his force when he rams his hips into your ass. you’ve fallen silent, again, but not because you want to. your tongue’s lolling out, eyes unfocused, fists unclenching �� you’re experiencing the best orgasm of your life.

megumi doesn’t like that. he needs you to listen to what he’s saying. he needs you to understand that, regardless of whether or not you reciprocate his love, he’s teaching you an invaluable lesson, one that you should never forget.

so he turns you over, shoves his dick back into you, and locks an arm under your neck to hold you up.

he growls into your ear, “are you listening to me?”

you’re whimpering and sniffling and gasping, all while holding onto his arms for dear life.

“senpai,” he calls again, sternly, tightening his arms around you a little.

you’re really not able to think, but the tone of his voice forces you to look at him. megumi’s never looked so serious, so furious before, and you feel yourself gush at the observation.

“senpai, you can’t be tightening up like that,” he grits, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “i’m not your boyfriend, so you can’t keep holding onto my dick like this.”

you whine. you wriggle your hips, trying to take him in even deeper even though it’s not possible.

“what, senpai?”

delirious, you mumble, “wanna be your girlfriend. want you to be my boyfriend.”

all that anger – gone. just like that.

megumi knows he ought to be stricter with you, truly discipline you now that he knows you want him like he wants you, but maybe, just maybe, he’s also a little clumsy when it comes to you.

even though he should still be upset, he can’t be bothered to because you’re so sweet, so kind, so accepting. he’s been giving it to you all night, dishing out small punishments and overstimulating you relentlessly, yet you’ve been just taking it all willingly.

yes, he should be more guarded, consider the possibility that you’re just saying those words in the moment or some other rational thought, but he’s clumsy when it comes to you.

clearly, megumi’s losing it.

he flips you over again, grabs you by the face, and smooshes your lips together. teeth scraping, tongues sliding, the kiss is so messy and filthy, and you’re screaming into it when he slides his cock back into you at the same time. you’re going limp – from the intensity of the kiss or the lack of air, it doesn’t matter –, and megumi’s barely pushing through.

he doesn’t stop – doesn’t allow himself to – because he’s trying to give you the best loving of your life. 

“you’re always driving me insane,” he groans.

you clench so tightly at those words, heart overflowing with joy and pleasure, and megumi has no choice but to let go. he’s filling you up again, but this time, he’s giving all that’s left of him – his cum, love, sanity – to you.

[kooktrash]

romantic dreams | jeon jungkook

summary: he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.

➣ genre/au: yandere jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], neighbors au, smut, angst

➣ 23.9k words

warnings: yandere. smut. jk is obsessed and a stalker. toxic. manipulation. gaslighting. he’s a gym rat who listens to deftones, nirvana, korn, pierce the veil, etc. he watches y/n through cameras. delusional jk. he’s intimidating and a huge asshole to everyone but y/n—like genuinely not a good person lol but he has nipple piercings and a six pack. goth jk. calvin klein jk. sort of mind break. dom/sub/switch themes but not intense. rough, passionate sëx. multiple rounds. oral [both recieving]. multiple orgasms. jk is kinda really unhinged at the end. he seems more stable than he is. everyone is so oblivious. unprotected smüt but also only for one round [they go for two]. idk lol he’s just a weird guy who likes black and Nirvana or some shit. y/n is cheated on in previous relationship he’s not dangerous I think

[ teaser ] [ video banner ]

[ drabble ] [smut]

[ drabble ]

[ smut drabble ]

[ birthday drabble ] [ smut ]

song inspo: tempest — deftones, and i love her — kurt cobain, blvd. nights — team sleep, new magic wand — tyler, the creator [highly recommend listening so you can get what kind of character Jungkook is]

jungkook’s moodboard | y/n’s moodboard

The music was loud yet you couldn’t make out a single word of it. The beat was strong but with the amount of people packed into the nightclub it seemed to blur out all other noise aside from their talk. You could barely see under the hues of green and blue lights shining down on the crowd and the room had a distinct smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke.

On your back was a firm hand that pushed you through the dancing crowds to get you to the bar and you let them take the lead without question. To your side was a friend of yours who flashed a smile, “Don’t worry, you’re going to get so drunk tonight that you forget about him.”

What she’s really saying is if you don’t want to feel then you better start sipping.

It was just 24 hours ago that you sat down in your living room listening to the guy you had been dating for months tell you that he cheated. He cried his eyes out telling you that it didn’t mean anything and that he would never do it again but it was too late. You didn’t shed a single tear until he was out of your house and that’s when you let the angry tears fall, mad that you were too blind to realize what a piece of shit he was.

Now you were in a little green dress feeling like a heartbroken bitch as you ordered two more drinks and tried to pretend like you’re having a good time when you’re not.

Taehyung watched you chug back another drink with a sigh, “But don’t drink too much, you’ll regret it.”

“I don’t care,” you slurred, tone already a bit off and woozy. Jiyoung combed your hair out of your face, “At least you’re still pretty, drunk or not.”

Not pretty enough if you got cheated on. You smiled as she cupped your face squeezing your cheeks, bloodshot eyes that she couldn’t even see under the changing lights.

“I’m gonna go find Hobi,” Taehyung said as he looked around the packed nightclub, “It’s going to take me forever.”

You nodded your head, “Go ahead, I’m gonna get another drink.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Jiyoung asked and you told her yes. She left with a small smile going with Taehyung to find your friend. Your smile slowly fell as you stood at the bar by yourself looking around at dancing pairs and kissing couples.

You took a deep breath trying to calm your racing heart, hands feeling the heat that radiates off your face and blinking hoping to fight off the burn you felt from not crying.

Once you had your drink you disappeared into the large crowd hoping to find the others.

He was fed up being here. He understands why his friends like to come out and drink but frankly he doesn’t care for their excuses to be able to pick up girls. Every single woman who approached him here are just so boring.

Sure, they’re nice to look at but that’s about it. Listening to their squeaky drunk voices and watching the way they try to dance on him is so tiring. He just wants them all to stop but they won’t and he knows it. He’s attractive, he’s somewhat tall, he’s covered in tattoos and he looks so unapproachable that it — for some reason — always attracts women to him. If he was interested in them then maybe he would feel different but most times he’s just bothered by them.

There might be a rare chance that he takes one home but that happens once every blue moon and even then he doesn’t care for their name or to stay with them the full night. He could live his life without wasting a single second flirting with some girl he met at the club.

His intention right now was to quietly sneak away from his friends while they hit on girls he was very unimpressed with and leave. It reeked of alcohol and he preferred not to get drunk and lose his senses tonight.

He was cutting through the crowd doing his best to avoid being pushed or touched but it didn’t seem to matter.

Goosebumps rose on his skin as he hissed at the sudden cold liquid that spilled onto his shoes and jeans. His face hardened as he smelled the stench of liquor and he immediately looked up annoyed to find the person who spilled their drink on him.

“Shit, I am so sorry,” you said in a somewhat shy voice. You looked from your empty cup to his wet pants and boots, “I—I didn’t mean to bump into you, there’s so many people here—fuck.”

His initial instinct was to chew you out, not caring for what or who you were, but then his eyes met yours and his anger immediately melted away. He couldn’t put his finger on why he was suddenly okay with a stranger spilling their Bloody Mary on his thousand dollar Gucci boots. He was too lost in your bloodshot eyes to say anything—until you dropped down to the floor with a hand on his boot acting like you could just wipe it away.

“Wait!” He nearly shouted as he held you by your arm and pulled you back up, “Don’t. It’s fine, the floor’s dirty.”

“No, please, I am so fucking sorry, oh my god,” you said, drunk out of your mind to fully pay attention to what happened. You looked up to him and you seemed to take a step back in surprise. He was an extremely good looking guy and you’ve just embarrassed yourself in front of him… yet he smiled sweetly instead of yell at you. Will you even remember this moment?

“I’ll just clean them, it’s alright, don’t even worry about it, okay?”

Not fully thinking clearly, you gasped as a sudden idea came to mind, “I’ll go get towels! I’ll um—j-just, y’know wait right here.”

He could hear it in your voice that you maybe drank too much. He looked around to see if a friend of yours might’ve been around watching but he found no one looking in this direction. You were practically running off and it would be a perfect chance to escape another drunk who threw themselves at him but he found himself going after you instead.

The hall toward the restrooms was poorly lit and people lined the walls waiting to go in but that didn’t stop him from cutting through so he could be close enough for you to find him. You were an interesting character.

He could feel some eyes on him but he ignored them easily, choosing instead to smile softly when you stumbled out of the restroom with a handful of paper towels. He reached a hand out to get them but once again you tried getting down to clean his shoes up yourself that it made him laugh lightly. He helped you back up with a hand on your back to keep you from swaying or getting down again—whichever comes first, “I got it.”

You stood back watching him clean his shoes and soak up some of the alcohol from his jeans. You debated if you should leave but when he looked up from his leant over position to see if you were still there, you stayed. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he smiled a genuine smile as he threw the paper towels away in the nearest bin, “Let’s get you another drink.”

“No, I’m done drinking for tonight,” you told him but you left out the part about you already feeling too numb for it, “I’ve already made a fool of myself.” You covered your face behind your hands and he couldn’t help but feel a rush of butterflies in his stomach.

“Don’t say that, it was cute,” he said confidently with a shrug of his shoulders, “Charming even… do you dance?”

“Huh?” You looked at him confused, “Uh, yeah.”

He smiled widely as he began to walk away from you, walking backwards to the dancing crowd, “Then make up spilling your drink on me with a dance?”

You bit your lip and narrowed your eyes as you studied him. You looked around as if in search for your friends but they were busy and you were heartbroken and drunk, and agreeing with a nod of your head. You took his outstretched hand and went with him.

“Where’d Y/n go?”

“Um,” Jiyoung looked around, “Good question, I thought she was getting another drink.”

“Well she’s not at the bar,” Hoseok said with a sigh, “Let’s look for her so we can get out of here finally.”

Your arms were around the stranger’s neck and his were wrapped around your waist keeping you pressed against him as you danced sensually together. You played with the ends of his hair as he looked down at you with an intense gaze, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you said with a light gasp as his head dipped down to hear you better, making you whisper it into his ear. His eyes closed as he felt your face brush against his and he was turning his head slightly to bring his lips closer, “I’m Jungkook.”

You blame the alcohol and the fact that the guy smelled really good for your next actions. It didn’t help that you were still very upset about being cheated on and you weren’t thinking clearly, only looking to feel something else than what you felt right now. So, in your drunken state, you turned your head letting your lips brush against his testing the water out and as he held you tightly, he pressed a kiss to them.

Jungkook released a low moan into your mouth when you kissed him back in need and he found it hard to keep his hands from roaming down your body in your pretty forest green dress. Your tongue swiped along his lip ring making his hands grip the sheer fabric to make sure you didn’t back away before he was done. You were curious about the cold metal and kissed him with a bit of intensity that you seemed to forget where you were or who you were with.

In need of air, you pulled back with your hands slowly slipping away from his neck trying to process the fact that you kissed a stranger without a care in the world.

“Y/n! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You jumped back startled as you turned around in search for the feminine voice. You looked at Jiyoung who sighed, “We’re leaving, are you ready?”

It was hard to get a good view on Jungkook with how poor the lighting was and how dark his clothes were. He was biting his lip ring as he watched you get dragged away and before he could pull you back to him in hopes of getting your number, you were leaving like he wasn’t even there.

Like you forgot about him already.

There was a quickening pace to his heart. Sweat dripped down his forehead that he wiped away with his forearm as he looked at his friend through the mirrored wall. Just behind them he had a clear view of some woman looking at them. His friend noticed her too, “She’s had her eye on you for a while now.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he switched with Namjoon and laid down. Namjoon made sure to spot him as he began to bench press, muscles bulging with each set he did.

“I’m serious, man, and she’s hot,” Namjoon looked behind him to catch the girl running on the treadmill as her gaze shifted shyly at being caught. He was getting a little pissed that his friend does not care that he’s being eye fucked at the gym.

This was just like Jungkook too, he never showed any sight of interest in anything. He always had a bored expression on his face like he was waiting for something worth his while to happen. Namjoon’s learned to get over it because if Jungkook didn’t like hanging out with him then they wouldn’t be friends. Jungkook isn’t the type to waste his breath reassuring things like that and he definitely does not waste his time thinking of someone.

If Namjoon got half as many women checking him out as Jungkook does, he would find a girlfriend in no time—but no, he has to stand to his side and watch his friend pay absolutely no attention to any woman who expressed even the slightest hint of interest in him. Maybe he has to applaud Jungkook for this, he seems to have standards and sticks to them because in their years long friendship he’s only met one of his girlfriend’s before. He was extremely private about his sex life too so they never shared any locker room talk and Namjoon has just learned that’s how he is.

“Should we do one more?” Jungkook asked as he placed the dumbbell back into its holders and sat up panting. He looked behind him just slightly and caught sight of the bleached blond on the treadmill. She hasn’t taken her eyes off him since she got here and it’s really starting to piss him off.

“Sure,” Namjoon said, switching Jungkook, “I don’t get how you seem to just ignore every woman who looks at you.”

Jungkook looked down at him as Namjoon caught a good grip on the dumbbell, “I wouldn’t disrespect the person I’m seeing by entertaining someone else.”

Namjoon nearly dropped the dumbbell on himself as he jumped up to a sitting position and looked at his friend dumbfounded, “You’re seeing someone?”

That made the corners of Jungkook’s lips turn upward and he tried to bite back a smile, his dimples still showed. Namjoon was no longer sitting and it seemed like the end of their workout so he began to clean the equipment. Jungkook cleared his throat, “Sort of.”

Wordlessly, they began to leave toward the locker room and Jungkook walked right past the blond without sparing her a single glance. He smiled, “Y/n.”

“Huh?” Namjoon asked, “Is that who you’re sort of seeing?”

“Mhm,” Jungkook nodded with a smile that had Namjoon surprised. He very rarely sees this much emotion from Jungkook and compared to his usual cool exterior, this was a bit unsettling. The two went straight for their lockers as they took their gym bags out and got ready to leave. Namjoon cleared his throat, “Do you have a picture? I need a visual of who this person is.”

It was just so sudden after he had these thoughts of how Jungkook showed absolutely no interest in anyone and kept his sex life extremely private. Namjoon always thought it was just because he was a womanizer and didn’t feel like bragging about all the women he’s seeing. It is just surprising that all of a sudden Jungkook would show so much emotion bringing someone up.

Jungkook didn’t give him an answer aside from fishing his phone out of his pocket and immediately showing him his lock screen. Namjoon looked at the picture clearly.

“Wow,” Namjoon said with, “Now I see why you don’t bat an eye at anyone else.”

It was a good candid photo of you, like you didn’t even know it was being taken. You were sitting outside having dinner and it was a perfect snapshot of your smile. You were looking at something off camera but Namjoon did have to admit that you were very attractive.

He missed the way Jungkook’s eyes darkened the longer Namjoon looked at your picture and decided to lock his phone and put it away, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon said as he grabbed his car keys while Jungkook grabbed his and his helmet, “So why haven’t I met this Y/n, yet?”

Look, he knows that the two of you aren’t dating yet, he’s not that crazy, but it’ll happen soon and he has a very strong reason to back it. Jungkook wasn’t smiling anymore but Namjoon couldn’t see it as he walked behind him, “You know I like things kept private.”

“I mean yeah but… I don’t know, you’ve never brought her up before. When did you start seeing her?” Namjoon asked just trying to have a casual conversation with Jungkook before they split up.

“I said sort of.”

“What?”

“Earlier you asked me if I was seeing Y/n and I said sort of,” Jungkook said with a tightened smile, “No need to bring anyone around yet.”

Namjoon didn’t have a chance to say much after that, Jungkook got on his motorcycle and left with a little wave. This felt like news of the century, Jungkook very rarely smiles the way he smiled when he first brought you up.

Look, he knows that the two of you aren’t dating yet, he’s not that crazy, but it’ll happen soon and he has a very strong reason to back it.

Who were you exactly?

You took a deep breath as you unlocked your front door and walked into a pitch black apartment. The light flickered on behind you and a small cat curled around your legs the second you were inside.

“Armani!” Your friend said with a soft gasp as he bent down to pick up the feline. Your cat let Taehyung pick him up and walk him around your living room as you put your things away.

“Looks like your neighbor’s home,” Taehyung pointed out as he stood near the window of your apartment swatting away hanging plants. Armani hopped out of his arms and onto his scratching post where he usually lounged in for naps or ripping at your Tillandsia. “You think he watches you sleep?”

“Shut up,” you told him with a roll of your eyes, “Do you want a drink?”

“Water” Taehyung asked with a cheeky grin before looking back to the window, “And you know I’m joking… I’m just saying though, he always has his curtains drawn and sometimes I catch him looking over here.”

“All that’s telling me is that I need to stop inviting you over,” you said as you grabbed a bottle of Soju and a bowl of chips. You couldn’t help but look out your window.

Your neighbor was an attractive man. He had a sleeve of tattoos and a broad chest, a six pack and… nipple piercings. It’s not that you’re a creep or anything but he likes to lounge around his living room and bedroom without a shirt on and his curtains open. Sometimes he would step out of the shower with only a towel around his small waist as he looked for clothes in his bedroom and you would have to immediately close your curtains so you weren’t a peeping Tom.

He moved in a few weeks ago and since then you’ve found yourself battling over the fact that you’ll never attract a man as gorgeous as him no matter what Taehyung says. Since the beginning Taehyung has believed that your neighbor seems to have a liking toward you. If you were honest, when you first saw him there was something familiar there but as hard as you tried, you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Your best friend is over at your place more often than not and he’s noticed some things. For instance, the day he moved in Taehyung was over and like the nosy neighbor you were, the two of you stared out the window and watched him unload boxes. Taehyung swears he saw a look in your neighbor’s eyes when he looked at you that immediately disappeared when he saw he was there too.

Then, there was that time when you were having dinner with your friends. Taehyung pointed out seeing your neighbor and how close he was sitting outside and you just brushed it off. He lives in your neighborhood now, that meant that he most likely frequented the same restaurants as you. He notes every time your neighbor seems to glance out the window toward your place but you don’t think anything of it. These apartments have poor lighting and the only way you get natural light is by having the windows open. In truth, Taehyung has watched way too many true crime documentaries and has gotten a bit paranoid.

“Whatever,” Taehyung sighed, “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt you to give him a little show and see if you’ll get laid.”

That only seemed to annoy you a little more. You’ve been single for weeks now and yes, you’re over being upset but that doesn’t mean you want to jump right out and find someone new to bone. Jiyoung has already done a good job reminding you about the guy she found you making out with weeks ago.

It’s sad to say you can’t remember him because you were drunk and maybe he forgot all about you too. Shame, he was a good kisser.

It only took you a couple days to see the man up close. You had just gotten home from work when you spotted an Amazon box outside the door of your building. Your original plan was to just walk past it but then you thought about the act of karma. You read the address hoping to at least put it inside the building but it wasn’t the right one. You lived in an apartment complex with six separate buildings and this was supposed to go next door.

You thought about leaving it outside like the delivery driver did but then you thought about it being your package and if someone were to take it. In the end you decided to head next door and deliver to the person’s doorstep.

The one thing you hadn’t expected was for the said person to open the door just as you’re setting the box down, and you much less expected it to be your window neighbor.

Your eyes couldn’t help but trail along his figure from the black jeans he wore to the black boots, belt, and a dark gray Nirvana shirt. You didn’t fail to notice the way his t-shirt was a little too short and exposed a bit of his Calvin Klein’s and a line of his tiny waist for your viewing. Thick leather bracelets on his wrists as he crossed his arms over his chest. Even his hair was voluminous and a bit curly and you were very attracted to the sight of this stranger.

Rock music played behind him as he leaned against his doorframe.

He looked down at you with an arched brow that had you snapping out of your stare. You stood back up with the box and held it toward him, “This was delivered to the building next door and I didn’t want someone to take it.”

“Oh,” he said as he looked down at the box, the corner of his lips turned up shifting his gaze back to you. You could see a black lip ring and a few silver ones aligning his ear. Up close you’re able to see all the details you’ve missed from your window and he really did look familiar. He finally took the box out of your hands, fingers over yours and he broke out into a smile, “You live next door.”

It wasn’t a question, more so a statement but you nodded away. You looked around, “I do.”

“I’ve seen you before,” he said, “You’re on the third floor?”

What Jungkook really wanted to say was that he remembered your lips against his kissing him like you needed him. He didn’t say that though, he can tell you might not remember him and he doesn’t blame you. You seemed to be a little flustered that night and he’s sure he’ll help you remember him when the time’s right. You’re meant for each other after all.

He realized that the second he moved in—it was all by pure chance and yet it felt like the universe was telling him you were his person. Why else would things work out this way? Once he found you looking down at him from your window, he knew it was meant to be. You made his heart race at a time where he had just felt annoyed and then you kissed him so warmly, there’s no way you two weren’t supposed to find each other.

“Yeah, I’ve been living there for over a year,” you said, already taking a step back like you were ready to go.

He smiled, “I just moved in a couple weeks ago.”

You nodded, “Oh, that’s nice. I'm Y/n L/n.”

Jungkook felt his chest tighten. He knew the two of you haven’t interacted since then but he had really hoped you would have recognized him up close. He understands that it was a while ago and you were both drunk but he remembers everything about you. He still tried to smile even if he felt annoyed that you couldn’t remember a single thing about him, “Jungkook.”

You watched the way his gaze never left yours as you tried walking away, before you could go he said, “Well thanks for bringing this up to me Y/n, maybe I’ll see you around?”

In your eyes, you both knew of each other but it was simply for being neighbors and nothing more. There’s been too many times where your eyes have met from 40 feet off the ground through your windows. There’s no way you wouldn’t at least remember each other’s silhouette.

Yet you couldn’t remember the first time you two met for the life of you. As far as you knew, this is the first time you’ve ever seen him this close and you can’t understand why you’re getting flustered.

“Have a good night, Jungkook,” You finally nodded your head in response to his words and with a small smile you made your leave. Jungkook watched you until you disappeared into the elevator. His heart was racing, he clutched the box tightly as a smile came to his face.

A light chuckle left his lips as he went into the apartment, setting the box down on his dining table. He just can’t believe his plan worked. He timed your arrivals for days and when he knew you would be getting home soon he left his most recent package in front of your building. To be Frank, he thought it was stupid to assume you would think anything about it but he had hoped maybe you would confuse it with one you ordered. He had prayed that you would see it was his and maybe get a little curious of the name but you did even better than he imagined. You delivered it to him. After an hour of pacing back and forth in his living room he finally heard his ring camera notify him that someone was at his door and that’s when his heart started to race.

He opens the door to see you up close for the first time ever. He wasn’t watching you from his window or following you to the convenience store. He was actually seeing you face to face and you looked prettier than you did the night he met you. That’s the time he fell in love, it was truly love at first sight and he knows that you must’ve felt it too. You were so cute and caring and clumsy, and you kissed him like you never wanted to pull away.

If only you knew the horrible pain he felt after you left him that night. All he could say is his friends definitely didn’t like the side of him that was shown following that day. He tried finding you on social media but with only your first name that had been so hard. When he saw you from your window he knew right away it was you and he swears he’s never felt so relieved to know he was seeing you again. Once again, the universe was sending signs of his soulmate.

It didn’t take him long to try and find a way to know more about you after moving in. He spent days studying the apartment floor plans and by the fourth day he was following someone into your building and looking at the map picture on his phone, smiling because they were identical. He learned that because your apartments faced each other that it could help him find exactly what number you had and when he found it, he went straight to the mailing room. He found your apartment number and right there taped on the metal was your full name.

He can’t believe that his patience seemed to have worked. You came right to him and he got to hear your pretty voice up close again. He smiled lovingly at the memory of your first kiss and how many more are to come, nose scrunching up like a bunny’s as he finally began to tear into his package.

In the pocket of his black jeans his phone began to ring and he took it out to answer without sparing a single glance at the caller as he pressed it between his ear and shoulder, “Hello?”

“Kook, hey man, what are you doing right now?” Namjoon asked through the cell phone as his Uber came to a stop at a red light.

“Just at home,” Jungkook mumbled, not fully listening to his friend as he looked at the small security camera in his hand. His eyes moved to skim the instructions while Namjoon spoke up again.

“I’m meeting up with Yoongi for some drinks and I wanted to know if you wanted to join us,” Namjoon said before with a smile.

“Uh, yeah, I’m busy right now,” Jungkook said with dazed eyes that made it obvious that he was drifting off into his own world as he made his way through his closet to find some sort of adhesive tape. He even sounded like he was in a different reality.

Namjoon’s smile grew wider, “With your girl?”

Jungkook opened his bedroom window and reached for his potted plant to move it out of his way. It took him a while to utter out a response, “Sort of?” He stuck the black camera against the side of his black window box and put the potted plants back inside it so he could see what it looked like.

“I mean you can bring her along,” Namjoon said as his Uber stopped in front of the bar and he began to get out.

“Maybe,” Jungkook muttered under his breath as he concentrated on opening the app connected to the camera and typing in whatever he needed to to be able to access the footage.

“Alright call me later if you’re up for it.”

Jungkook barely hummed a goodbye as Namjoon hung up and finally got off speaker. He wasn’t paying attention anyways.

He has two options now that his friend has called him with plans tonight.

One: He can go out and get drunk with his friends, probably go to some night club and suffer through some ugly drunk woman throwing herself at him while he pretends to be interested in anything she says.

Or.

Two: He can stay home tonight, dim the lights, play Tempest by Deftones and watch video footage of your bedroom that he now had thanks to the package you delivered to him.

He just has to go with option two.

You were ashamed to admit that you think you might have a little crush on your neighbor. He just felt so familiar. Nothing about him looked inviting, he seemed aloof and a bit mysterious but he pulled it off so well—and with that charming smile of his… you’ve never seen a girl over at his place but you’re sure there’s dozens waiting for a chance with him.

Taehyung is the one to blame for this technically. Since the beginning he’s gotten it through your head that your neighbor must at least be curious about you to always look at you through the windows. You know that it could seem a bit creepy to know that but were you any better when you glance over and see him shirtless through his window? It’s starting to really get to your head and the fact that he was very attractive made it hard for you to not get a little giddy just thinking about him being interested in you in the slightest. You’re sure that’s not the case but it wouldn’t hurt to dream.

Also, you think the world is playing a sick joke on you or why else would he be standing in an aisle over in the same convenience store as you? The Baader-Meinhof phenomenon is to blame, now that you’ve seen him up close it’s like you’re seeing him everywhere in the neighborhood.

Jungkook was the first to make a move, he closed the space between you as he headed down your aisle while you pretended to be stuck choosing between different snack foods. He couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, “Y/n?”

“Jungkook,” you greeted him as your eyes met.

“I thought it was you,” Jungkook said with a gentle smile as he switched the hand that was holding his shopping basket while looking down at yours, “Doing some grocery shopping?”

“Kind of,” you mumbled, “I’m just buying a few things until I have time to shop this week, what about you?”

“Same,” Jungkook said as he looked at you, “Have any plans? It’s the weekend.”

“I don’t know, I’ll probably just be home until plans come calling,” you said with a soft laugh that made his heart beat a little faster. He’s never heard your laugh before and he needs to hear it again.

“Well, can I come calling tonight?” Jungkook asked confidently, “Let’s get a drink later.”

“Tonight?” You asked, making your way to the checkout line with him hot on your trail.

Listen, you are attracted to this stranger but you’re not so sure there’s more to it than just that. Sure, you think he’s attractive and were just feeling giddy over him thinking the same about you but…. you don’t know. You just got out of a relationship a few weeks ago and you thought some time to yourself would be nice, yet you keep seeing this guy everywhere like some sort of destiny prank and it’s getting to your head. This is your problem, you tell yourself you want to enjoy being single but then you make up all these crazy excuses so that you could find yourself the next guy.

“Alright,” you finally said, walking toward the check out line. He smiled widely now, “Perfect, I’ll drive.”

“What time?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear as the cashier began to scan your items.

“I’m not sure yet, how about I text you?” Jungkook asked getting his phone out. You didn’t think much of it as you gave him your number and he immediately called you to confirm but he smiled, “Now you have mine too. Want me to drive you home?”

“I have one more stop after here but thank you, I’ll see you tonight?” you told him shyly. You left after paying and with a goodbye.

Jungkook’s smile instantly dropped when he could no longer see you through the windows of the store. He barely made out the voice of the cashier telling him his total and he threw a crumpled up bill on the counter, ignoring her outstretched hand, and took his bags, turning to leave without his change or receipt.

He bumped into someone hard as he left the store but he never once stopped and headed straight down the street in the direction you left.

In the end Jungkook walked back to his work like he hadn’t been gone for nearly an hour. When he checked the camera earlier he saw you getting dressed to leave—and like the gentleman he was, he didn’t stare too long. Of course he couldn’t help but watch just a little bit and see the way you seemed to caress your legs as you slid on a long fitted black skirt covering your bare hips and lacy underwear. It made his heart race when you took your shirt off and he knew that it was time he stopped watching at least for a little. You grabbed your bag off the hook, filled your cat’s bowl and headed out.

He’s been studying up on your usual departures. You don’t really go anywhere new, it’s usually a cycle of work, home, the store, and to meet your friends. Considering the time he had chosen and the area in which the two of you lived, all he had to do was wait around and see if he could find you walking somewhere on the sidewalk. When he finally did spot you walking toward the convenience store around the corner he practically ran right over.

Clearly he’s made all the right decisions to get to ask you on a date tonight. He won’t watch you this evening, he’ll give you some privacy to dress pretty for him like he’s sure you’ll do and it’ll just be a nice surprise.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: how does 8pm sound? —jungkook

you: sounds good :)

jungkook: alright, I’ll wait outside for you

When you got home, you immediately got ready with a shower. You know it wasn’t a date or anything but he was attractive and you would be going out so there’s no way you could go dressed the way you were.

You finally had your curtains closed after beating yourself up for forgetting to do that before you left to the store and immediately thought about Taehyung getting you in trouble for it.

And apparently just the thought of your friend was enough to summon him to call you.

“Hello?” You answered the FaceTime call, noting that there was a third person present.

“Hello baby!” Hoseok shouted over enthusiastically as he gushed at you through the screen, “I’ve missed you.”

“Hi Hobi, are you back?” You asked as you set the phone up against the mirror while you touched up on your appearance.

“He just got back and we want to get drunk, so are you coming over or what?” Taehyung asked as his eyes squinted, best friend senses tingling, “Where are you going?”

“Um… you know, I have plans,” you said awkwardly making him look you up and down and what you wore.

“With who?”

“Uh…” you scratched the back of your neck, “A guy?”

“You’re cheating on me, you bitch?” Hoseok jokes, making you crack a smile. Hoseok was older but he was the funny one and for years now there’s been a running joke between you two. He huffed, “You’re not supposed to date. We’re supposed to get married when we turn 30.”

“First of all, you’re damn near 30 already,” you rolled your eyes, “And our agreement was if we weren’t engaged by then we would get married.”

“Stop changing the subject. Who’s the guy?” Taehyung asked with a small smirk that told you he already had an idea. You just had to tell him about your run in with the neighbor the other day. You didn’t say anything because he already knew.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Go enjoy your black eyeliner boyfriend and we’ll get drunk on our own.”

“Who are we talking about?”

Jungkook was not ashamed to admit he had been waiting for you since he got home. He did hurry and get dressed but he had been ready early on. When you texted him telling him you were coming down he nearly jumped out of his car to greet you and he felt an insane amount of butterflies in his stomach. You were dressed simply but at the same time it was clear to him that you put in the effort all for him. Your skirt hugged your curves perfectly and your shirt gave him a good idea of what was underneath—even if he’s practically seen you nude through the windows. You reminded him of spring and it wasn’t just because of the earthy tones you wore.

“You look lovely,” Jungkook said as he placed a hand on your lower back assisting you into the passenger’s side of his black Porsche. You blushed at his words and took in the scent of his car. It smelled of his cologne but it wasn’t overbearing like most colognes, it was familiar. It’s soft yet masculine and exactly what you pictured he would use.

When he started the car up, a familiar song began to play, Something In the Way by Nirvana played lowly so it wasn’t overwhelming for your ears. You smiled, “You must like this kind of music a lot. I always see you in band tees”

He smiled but his eyes drifted down to his hands that clutched the steering wheel tightly so they wouldn’t shake with anxiety, “I do, it’s perfect for the gym.”

Jungkook was very pleased to know you took note of his interests, it meant that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you. He can list off a lot of things he’s learned about you throughout the week. Just from your socials he can tell where you’ve vacationed, cafes you frequent at, your favorite books or movies, etc.

From watching you through your windows he knows that you read a book on the window seat in your bedroom. You like to keep your green plants in the living room and your cat tends to pull off some leaves before running off when he sees you. He knows you can barely cook—he’s seen you running to turn off the fire alarm after you tried cooking. He knows that when you’re alone in your bedroom at night you like to listen to music loud and dance in front of the mirror when you think no one’s watching. He’s even seen you fight your cat over him eating another one of your plants. He knows all of this thanks to his cameras. He can keep his curtains closed to not raise suspicion but that doesn’t mean he can’t see you.

He thinks it’s kind of cute how oblivious you are, it works in his favor even now.

You knew he worked out just by looking at him but for the sake of conversation you asked, “How often do you work out?”

“Twice.”

“A week?”

“A day,” Jungkook looked at you for a split second, “Once in the morning and then usually after work too.”

“Fuck, that’s a lot,” you laughed softly, “I can see why you’re so toned.”

Jungkook bit his lip playing with his lip ring, “Nice to know you’ve noticed, but how? You’ve never seen me without a shirt, have you?”

He knows you have, he’s very purposely walked around shirtless for your viewing specifically. You released a nervous chuckle, “I mean… just from what I can see.”

“Mm,” he hummed as he tried and failed to bite back a smile. He just couldn’t help it. You’re in his car on the way to a date with him. He’s been dreaming about this night after all, imagining what it would be like to wake up next to you with you in his arms. He’s dreamt about the way you laugh at his jokes, how your shampoo smells, what you look like fresh out the shower. It feels like all he does is think about you and he knows it’s because he’s found the one he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. Ever since that first night at the club he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Was that normal?

He knows he shouldn’t put cameras up to spy on you or follow you around but he just wants to know where you’re going. He doesn’t want something to happen to you and he has no way of knowing. If he could just know your every step he’s sure that’ll make him feel more at ease.

When he finally parked and the two of you got out of the car you could see where he brought you. You had expected it to be some loud night club or something but it was actually a seemingly quiet lounge bar. There weren’t that many people here and the ones that were seemed to come from money and the dim lights with quiet soft rock music playing in the background told you this wasn’t his first time here. It was an intimate environment filled with quiet conversations and sneaky touches. You found a high round table and with Jungkook’s help, you got on the high stool and watched him pull his chair closer to yours—so close his thigh bumped into yours on occasion.

“What would you like to drink?” Jungkook asked with a hand on your thigh as if to get your attention. He seemed to fit into the environment better than you did. He switched out his normal band tee for a plain black fitted tee that quite literally hugged the ridges of his muscles, even with the dark color you could make out the shape of his bar nipple piercings. The shirt was tucked into a pair of blacks jeans with a leather belt that matched his signature leather bracelets that were on his wrists. The only things different were the silver chained bracelets and chunky rings that fit well with his tatted fingers and matched the silver chains around his neck and piercings in his ears. He had an intricate silver cross with small red jewels on a necklace and his hair had a slick look that made the waves and curls look wet.

He was quite literally breathtaking and unlike the guys you usually went for.

“Surprise me,” you said and he nodded leaving you alone with a pat on your thigh. In order to not look awkward by yourself, you checked your phone, half tempted to pull out your essential oils and roll on some lavender.

Some rock song played quietly in the background as people talked around you enjoying the dark and warm atmospheric of the lounge bar.

hobi: how’s the mystery gang

you: the who?

jiyoung: don’t ever call us that shit again

taehyung: look who finally came out of the trenches

you: jiyounggggggg I missed u

jiyoung: y/nnnn I love u

jiyoung: are u coming to Tae’s?

hobi: y/n’s got a date with some stalker

you: WHO TOLD U THAT

taehyung: me and i was kidding

jiyoung: no u weren’t

hobi: no u weren’t

you: whatever. I gotta go

jiyoung: I hope u get laid

you: why is everyone saying that

taehyung: bc u need it <3

you: scatter. all of u

Jungkook came back with a cocktail for you and when he sat down his chair inched just a little closer to yours as he said, “So…Y/n…”

“So… Jungkook…” you said back to him and he swore he could hear his name fall from your lips for the rest of his life. He smiled, “Tell me about yourself, what do you do for a living?”

You own a shop that just opened up a year ago, what you mostly sell are house plants and sometimes you take Armani with to bring customers in with his Prince-like features—that’s what a review on your business page said anyway.

“I own a plant shop, you?” You asked shifting in your seat a bit when his thigh pressed against yours. With the way you were sitting facing each other, your legs were practically trapped between his. He licked his lips, “I’ll give you a hint.”

You nodded waiting and finally he pointed to the smiley face on his fingers. Your brows scrunched together in concentration and he thought it was the cutest thing in the world making him scrunch his nose like a bunny with a smile and it completely betrayed his dark exterior. You bit your lip, “Tattoos?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as the hand with the tattoos found its way down to your thigh again, it looked huge on you and he held you like you would get up and run away from him, “So tell me.”

You lifted a brow waiting and he smiled, “What kind of flowers do you get a girl that knows so much about them?”

You released a sigh in thought. He clearly meant you and if he didn’t this would be embarrassing but you said, “Personally I think Baby’s Breath. It could mean a lot of different things from undying love to pureness and freedom. It’s simple yet pretty.”

He nodded seriously like he was really thinking about what you said, “Not a rose?” He had to figure out exactly what you like and dislike.

“Too cliché,” you joked with a little laugh and he smiled, “I mean, Baby’s Breath are common too but I still think they’re better.”

“I thought you would think they’re romantic,” Jungkook said, thumb now softly caressing the side of your thigh. You shook your head no, “Maybe but I like the unexpected a little more.”

“Unexpected how?” He asked looking down at his hand and your leg curiously. He needs to know absolutely everything he can about you. Every second he spends with you the more he realizes he’s found the one. There’s no other way to describe what he’s felt for you since he first ever laid eyes on you.

You sighed, your index finger began to absentmindedly trace the rings on his fingers while he touched your thigh with the same hand, “I don’t know, I’m just tired of the same shit in relationships, y’know what I mean? I want something new, exciting… maybe a little intense? I don’t know, ignore me I might just sound crazy.”

You were speaking out of your ass and you knew it. Sure, you are sick and tired of the same assholes thinking they can just do whatever they want with you but you’re not in search of nothing new right now. You don’t want a relationship at this moment, you just want to have fun, maybe hook up with someone and move on.

“You don’t,” Jungkook breathed out as he leaned just a little closer, taking a small whiff of your shampoo. You were actually a little surprised by his growing proximity but you’re beginning to realize just how attracted you might be to him after just one meeting. In a low whisper he sighed, “I want the same thing.”

Your eyes widened slightly as he dropped his head down so his forehead was against your collarbone and though usually you would be immediately turned off by a man this forward, his touch felt good.

“Looks like you’ve dressed up for me Jungkook, I’m used to seeing you in some black tee,” you said in hopes of easing some of this growing sexual tension but it was no use. Jungkook’s other hand had made its way into your hair making you look at him. He smiled, “Didn’t know you were paying that much attention to me. How do you know how I dress on the regular?”

Yikes.

“Uh, you know… our windows actually—“ he cut you off with a soft laugh.

“Y/n, I’ve got a confession.”

You looked at him with furrowed brows, confusion and curiosity evident on your face. His eyes never left yours as he bit his lip nervously, “We’ve met before.”

Jungkook studied your expression to see if maybe you were remembering a little but you just stared at him blankly, “Before I moved in next door, we met at a club.”

A club? You asked yourself trying to find something in him that you might’ve missed and when it hit you your face flushed with embarrassment. You looked at him longer, pieces of your memory slowly coming back together and he sat there patiently.

You had been drunk, probably the drunkest you had been in a while.

You were mad and sad, maybe a little numb too.

You could barely see inside that place and couldn’t remember most of your conversations. You only knew that you had kissed someone because Jiyoung told you but to know it was Jungkook? Now that’s a huge coincidence.

“Wow,” you said at a loss for words. The memory was coming back to you but you felt insanely guilty for not realizing it earlier. No wonder he stared at you all the time, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Jungkook released a light laugh, “Because I was hoping you would remember on your own, we did kiss after all.”

You covered your face with your hand in embarrassment, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even… wow, I knew you looked familiar.”

He smiled warmly, “It’s alright.”

“What a coincidence, honestly.”

“I know,” Jungkook said, “Funny isn’t it? It’s like the universe keeps throwing us together.”

You laughed at that, “I don’t really believe in destiny but it is pretty interesting that all of a sudden we keep running into each other.”

His smile dropped and the hand he had in your hair became limp, “Y/n, how could you not believe in destiny? How do you think you’ll find your soulmate?”

“Soulmate?” You scoffed, unaware of the way his hands slowly withdrew from you, “Jungkook, don’t tell me you honestly believe in that soulmate bullshit? Do you think there’s just one person in this whole wide world destined for you only?”

“I do.”

“But how do you know who that person is?” You asked, switching places with him and combing your fingers through his hair which did seem to ease him a bit. His eyes were stone cold as he looked into yours, “You just know.”

“Well I don’t believe that,” you cleared your throat and looked away. The night has gone great but you don’t care much for this conversation. It didn’t take you long to notice the way he grew quiet and stared off like he was in his own world. You must’ve said something that upset him and in fear that you were already fucking up a seemingly good night out with your anti romantic antics, you curled a hand around his jaw and made him look up at you.

Jungkook was very visibly upset and you never knew a man could look so hurt over what you just said. He looked like a child who has just had his dreams crushed despite all the tattoos and piercings he wore. You smiled softly, “What do I have to say to get you to kiss me?”

You were being forward and a clear flirt and if Jungkook wasn’t so upset with you he would have probably melted in his seat but all he could think about is how often you’ve asked that to someone. He couldn’t get past what you said because it was a lie.

Soulmates did exist and he has to prove it to you that you’re his. Why else would his skin grow numb with your touch?

He gave up on telling himself he wasn’t happy right now and leaned closer again. Under the dim lights and music playing in the background it was hard not to feel this way in this atmosphere so he let his lips brush against yours while still debating. He had to be gentle.

Finally, without much debate, he pressed his lips against yours with a low whimper as you kissed him back. Jungkook’s nails dug into your thigh but not enough to hurt and with your hand on his jaw the two of you looked a bit too sexually charged for the lounge bar. It didn’t stop you from letting your tongue meet his as he took ownership of your mouth and nearly yanked your chair closer. Your hands landed on his chest for support but he only kissed you harder this time.

A sudden noise at your table made you jump back, biting his lip softly and it only made him groan in pleasure, chasing after your lips as you attempted to draw back. Your eyes opened watching the hostess carried your empty glasses away and you know she did that to make sure the two of you kept it PG and with a sense of embarrassment, you pulled away. Jungkook didn’t catch on or care as he began to kiss along your jaw if he couldn’t kiss your lips. Your mouth fell open when he nipped on your earlobe and you shyly glanced around the lounge praying nobody was watching.

“Jungkook,” you patted his shoulder to get him to move back but he only kissed further down, nearly at your exposed cleavage. Feeling flustered, you yanked at his hair in hopes that would get him to listen and it did but there was no denying that lust filled gaze in his eyes as he tugged his lip piercing between his teeth.

He’s nearly forgotten how fucking rude you were to him and his beliefs.

“Hm,” he hummed, searching your face for any sign that you wanted him to kiss you again.

“I think we should watch what we do in public,” you whispered shyly.

He licked his lips, “Should we get out of here then?”

You took yourself by surprise when you nodded your head despite knowing exactly what he meant by that. You wouldn’t usually do anything—not even a kiss—on the first meeting but right now you can’t deny that he seems to be hungry for you and though you don’t know why, you want him anyway.

It was all it took for him to grab you by the hand and help you off the high chair.

In the car you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, just trying to get Jungkook to drive off already was difficult with the way the two of you made out in his tinted car. He was half tempted to direct you over his lap and just do it in the car but that was just him being impatient. He needed to feel and see all of you, so with a low displeased grunt he pulled back ignoring the line of drool that connected your lips together as you drew back. Jungkook’s mouth was swollen and covered in lip gloss that he licked off as he started his car.

Just before taking off he made sure to lean across the middle console for one last kiss.

Now that you’ve kissed him you’re ashamed to admit how clear you remember the night of the club now. He really was the same guy and it’s shitty to say you only remember now that he’s told you.

Jungkook drove the familiar route to your shared apartment complex but instead of going to building five, he went to building six where his apartment was. He led you up an identical pair of stairs to an identical elevator and up an identical floor. He hurried to unlock his door looking behind him as if to make sure you were still around and as the door opened a large, skinny black dog came running over. Jungkook shushed him gently, flashing you a shy smile that you’ve never seen before, “I have to take him out real quick, down the hall to the right is my room.”

You nodded in understanding as you watched him leave with the dog and you followed directions. You were just a little tipsy but not like the first night you kissed. You could still see things clearly and you were very aware that you were about to have sex with a guy on the first date. A guy you lived across from at that—one you drunkenly kissed without knowing it. This was a new you and something you’ve never done but it didn’t stop you from looking around his bedroom finding it fitting.

He had a large king sized bed pushed against the black wall of band posters and Vinyls. His bedsheets were black silk and his headboard was a deep red velvet. Aside from the posters he had black and white sketches of various dark things from moths to skulls and even a few dead roses. He had a couple weights laying around and it was overall a clean and tidy room just a little darker than you expected. Even the large mirror he had over his headboard had a black wooden frame with engravings of vines and flowers on it. It was huge too and you could see the entire room from that angle. The room was dimly lit too with the light switch only turning on two lamps in the corners of the room and it gave it a warm and dark feel. To be honest… his bedroom was as hot as he was, just imagining the things he could do to you in these silk sheets was enough for you to clench your thighs shut.

In the background some music started playing from a different room letting you know Jungkook was back.

Mascara by Deftones played in the back as Jungkook returned to you, standing behind you in the mirror and you watched as his tattooed arm came around your waist to the front of your stomach while he pressed you into his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder, “You’re so fucking pretty.”

You smiled shyly as he began to leave soft kisses along your neck, his ringed fingers coming up to push your hair out of his way and you felt your breath hitch when his teeth nipped at your earlobe. Turning your head to face him, you pressed your lips against his and he met you with an open mouth kiss letting the hand on your stomach slip under your fitted forest green long sleeve top, it must be your favorite color, he realized. You had chosen to go brakes underneath and he noticed right away but like a gentleman he forced himself not to stare. Now he’s free to feel up your soft stomach and bunch up the shirt to feel your breasts in his hands.

He was quite literally feeling you up for your own viewing with the way the two of you stood in front of the window. Your breath hitched when his cold fingertips brushed along your exposed nipples, teasing you as you made out out and you felt your body slowly turning to mush in his hands. You wore this black silky skirt with velvet black flowers on and it was short but flowy so it gave his other hand easy access to the expanse of your thighs and you felt like you were being manhandled in the most gentle way.

His tattooed hand disappeared under your skirt and you felt his teasing touch along your thighs but avoiding the space between your legs as his other hand punched your nipple making you whine into his mouth. This was all a bit bizarre but you could hear your friends now cheering you on for getting laid by the hot guy next door.

You blame the fact that you haven’t had sex in a while by how aroused you were and how easy it was for him to push you forward until you were crawling onto his silk sheets ready to turn on your back but you couldn’t. Jungkook pushed you face down onto his bed and he crawled over you kissing your neck as he grabbed at the hem of your skirt and pulled it down. He had already pulled your shirt up to reveal your breasts and now he was yanking your underwear down too until he threw it along with the skirt on the floor. You gasped as he maneuvered your body to his liking, tits pressed against the sheets while lifting your hips so your bare butt was in the air.

Jungkook was trying to take his time but you just looked so ready for his touch too and all the little whimpers in surprise by the way he held you was too much for him to remain calm. He had so much he wanted to do to you.

His fingers trembled as he ran them along your naked backside and spine, kissing whatever he touched until finally he was kissing your lower back, hands finally finding your hips and dropping down to the space between your legs. You had to clench the silk in your hands to keep yourself from squirming in anticipation, unable to help yourself from gasping, “Jungkook.”

The sound of his name falling from your lips had him greedily diving forward letting his tongue out and licking the first swipe along your folds catching you by surprise. With a low growl in frustration, he pinched your hips and dragged them back until he was able to fully press his face into your wet heat that had his eyes rolling back knowing he’s the one who’s made you like this in such a short time.

The last Deftones song ended and a new one began but it went completely unnoticed by the two of you as he began to let his eagerness show with the way he ate you out from behind.

He wanted to be buried in your perfect cunt until he could barely breathe. If he ran out of breath, if he fucking suffocated, he would die a happy man knowing he’s found the one meant for him and that he’s able to pleasure you to the point where your thighs already began to shake. You dug your face into the bed to hide your moans and he only took that as a challenge to make you be louder to the point where you can’t hide it.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned softly unable to hold yourself back.You were so fucking wet. Your slick was all over his chin and his nose as he found your clit with ease. You were moaning loudly now, grinding into his face with enough force to make him dizzy. His nails were digging into your soft thighs, not once bothering to pull away for air. . Anyone nearby could listen to the feral sound he was able to rouse from his mouth despite being buried in that sweet, sweet cunt, he did not care. He was going to make you beg for him harder.

"Fuck," your head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the sheets as if you could get a look at him from the back, "Please," he heard you whisper, desperation spilling from your tone. Breathless moans and a few choice curse words followed before he felt you become restless, close to orgasm and trying to push him away before the pleasure became overwhelming. Even if this was his first time with you, he knew how bad you wanted it so he didn’t move back, choosing instead to lap at your slick folds feeling your walls try and tighten around his tongue, "Yes, fuck, right there, baby. Don't stop."

The term of endearment was enough to make him moan into your pussy but he won’t stop. Not until his cock was buried tightly between your walls feeling you come undone around him like he'd been craving for since he met you. Alternating between sucking on your clit and quickly lapping his tongue against it, Jungkook could feel your body begin to tremble and it only made his hold on your hips tighten to keep you in place. Your hips began to turn into his face failing miserably and getting him off and instead of saying to stop, you said, “S-so close.”.

His tongue lapped at your folds creating a squelching sound, your hips rutting against his face. He sucked on your clit, tongue hitting the tip with each swivel as the hand on your hip was suddenly pinching. A low growl vibrated between your walls as he ate you from behind and your eyes burned with the need to keep them open, your hand hit the bed feeling yourself become restless and before you could say anything your walls were breaking. Jungkook never once slowed down, licking and sucking away your release as your legs shook and gave out yet he held your hips up to his face until he was satisfied.

Jungkook tried easing you down from your first orgasm of the night and when he finally sat back all he could see as he looked down was your pretty body facing down on his bed where you belonged. He licked his lips, hand barely grazing over his hardened member which still stayed confined in his black jeans and with a soft caress over your butt he whispered, “Give me a second, baby.”

You barely nodded, unable to move as he left the bed in search of his master bathroom. He began to rummage through his drawers praying to the universe that he had just one condom. It had been so long since he last had sex and though he would love to feel all of you during your first time, he also knew he had to be safe. He was too worked up right now to remind himself to pull out so he had to find some sort of protection. He created so much noise in his hurry and when he found one he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

When he came back out to his bedroom you had rid yourself of your shirt from being overheated but you still laid face down trying to keep cool. He smiled warmly as he pulled at the neckline of his long sleeve till it was off his head and checked it to the ground leaving his chains on. Next to come off was his black belt that hit the floor with a heavy thud along with his black jeans and white Calvin Kleins. He tore into the package of the condom rolling it on swiftly as he slowly stroked himself to the sight of you, unable to stop his tattooed hand from running along his own abs to his nipples where the piercings had turned them sensitive. He pressed a knee to the bed, cock in hand as he lined himself behind you, not pushing in but angling your hips how he wanted them and let his dick thrust between your fold teasingly. You released a surprised whimper that had him smiling and he found himself lying over you just enough but not hard enough to crush you.

With his free hand he brushes your hair off your back and shoulder, moving it to one side so he can see your pretty face, “You ready, baby?” It was his turn to call you that and it sounded so perfect falling from his gorgeous lips. You nodded your head shyly, hips already withering with the way his cock teased your entrance but never went in.

He smiled lovingly, “Words, love.”

“Yes,” you moaned as his tip began to press into your opening, “Fuck, need you inside.”

Jungkook bit his piercing as he nodded, pulling back just enough to guide his cock into your wet pussy. You both released a silent moan as he began to stretch you open with his thick dick. His tattooed arm came to your lower back for support as he stopped himself from thrusting all the way in but he couldn’t take it. He needed you to feel all of him, so he pressed a little more, other hand holding up your hips to fuck you from behind. When you finally began to fuck yourself on his cock, he knew you were ready and with the same hand he had on your back, he wrapped it around your waist until he was pulling up your seemingly limp body to his chest.

"Want me to do all the work while you just lay there, huh baby?" His hand slid between your breasts to grab at your throat forcing your jaw to stay open making you moan.

You shook your head no as you arched your back off of him so you could fuck yourself on his cock but with the arm loosely around your throat it was hard to move more. His brows scrunched together in pleasure when your wetness created such a soft glide into your warm pussy that he couldn’t help but sneak his other hand down your front too and touch your clit. Your head lolled to the side as he began to leave harsh love bites on your neck and through dazed eyes you found your gaze shifting back to the black mirror that hung over his headboard and when he found where your attention had gone to, he looked at himself too.

It was erotic the way the two of you fucked in his black and red room with sultry rock music playing in the background and your slutty body being pinched at by his rough hands while he impaled you with his cock. You haven’t even had a chance to fully devour the sight of his body, he was so focused on eating you out and getting right to fucking you.

But you loved it. You loved having his hand around your throat. You loved the rough pace he was setting. You loved the animalistic way he'd dropped down to his knees and ate you out like your pussy was his last meal. You loved the way this stranger who wasn’t much of a stranger fucked you roughly yet so gentle and loving, making you feel so good. You were close again and he was too. His free hand flew down to your pubic bone pushing you back onto his cock until he was buried to the hilt and kept himself there breathing heavily. His eyes squeezed shut feeling you shake with a loud moan that he had to cover your mouth with his other hand to block. He turned your face over by your jaw smashing his lips onto yours feeling your body tremble with release that he had to giggle.

You came so easily each time and he was nowhere near done with you even as your body became mush in his hands. Jungkook found himself struggling to breathe as your walls tightened around him feeling your release dribble down his cock to his balls and with a quiet grunt, he came in the condom hugging you to his chest as you both fell onto the bed with him on top of you.

When he was able to catch his breath better he took the condom off and collapsed down at your side, staring up at the ceiling and you finally had a chance to see him in all his naked glory. The piercings he wore on his nipples were silver barbells and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his chest rose and fell with every shaky breath he released. Your eyes trailed down his body toward his dick which rested against his stomach still hard. Jungkook could feel you watching him, he took your hand in his, bringing it toward his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Unable to help yourself you pulled yourself up, a leg thrown over his thigh and you kissed him. Jungkook’s breath hitched as he moved his mouth against yours, feeling your tongue swipe over his lip ring tugging on it softly.

You placed a palm on his chest, fingertip just millimeters away from his right nipple and you touched the bar. He brought a hand around your neck keeping you in place to make out while feeling your finger do right circles around his bud, moving the bar gently. Jungkook couldn’t do anything about the way his dick hardened once more, thrilled to know you wanted to keep going.

He’s had sex many times yet nothing has ever felt as good as what you two just did and if you want to do it again then that means you feel the same. You need him just as bad.

A low groan left his lips as you attempted to pull away and he only let you when you very lightly tugged on the metal bar, you kissed down his neck and collarbone. Jungkook licked his swollen red lips as he stared blankly at the ceiling trying not to get too eager but he really did not want to cum so quickly again. Your lips wrapped around his left nipple immediately drawing out a moan from him when your tongues licked over the cold metal. He took a hold of your free hand and couldn’t help but bring it down to his hard cock.

"Fuck," he groaned when your hand tightened around his fist forcing the grip on his cock to squeeze in an upward stroke, he was fucking himself with your hand as you sucked and tugged on his nipples. He licked his dry lips, "I want to fuck you so bad."

He received no response but that didn’t stop him from letting out any noise he wanted to, almost louder than the rock music outside. He licked his lips, biting back a groan as you left a sloppy open mouth kisses against his skin, tongue soothing any sting your teeth left when they nipped him. Your tongue circled around his nipple again while taking over stroking his cock as his fist flew to his mouth to hide loud moans.

Earlier Jungkook asked if you wanted him to do all that work and honestly, that’s how you preferred it. You didn’t like having to do much work during sex but Jungkook made you just want to keep going. It’s like he was pulling you in by just being himself.

His legs shook when your hand released his dick to go massage his balls, feeling your grip pull on his flesh making him wince in pleasure. Deciding he couldn’t take not doing anything, his fingers found their way into your hair by the back of your neck, and though he tried not to do it too harshly, pulled you off of him.

“Get on top,” he said with a deep raspy voice that went straight down between your legs but you shook your hand.

You wanted to feel the weight of him in your mouth but you also wanted to feel him inside of you again. You looked at him, “I’m on the pill.”

“Good,” Jungkook said as he helped you move to straddle his hips, “Because I’m out of condoms.”

He needs to remind himself that if he’s going to be with you he needs to buy more. That one had just been sitting in his drawer and he’s really sure how long but it wasn’t expired yet. He also knew he hasn’t had any sex in a few months now and he had no reason for any but now he has you. Now he has to think about you and he swears he will but you don’t seem to mind the way he lines you up with his pointed cock and slowly brings your hips down.

“Oh my god,” you sighed as you sank down with ease and let yourself get readjusted and comfortable with the stimulation again. Usually it’s hard for a guy to make you cum but Jungkook did so easily and he’s already on his way to bring a third out of you. A third. You’ve only brought him to one yet he doesn’t seem to mind, more eager to fuck you with his cock to care.

“Fucking hell," he said moaning as he fucked into you, with a concentrated face watching the way your hips gyrated. Your nails clawed at his chest and accidentally tugged at his piercing a little too harshly and you immediately went to apologize at the sudden grunt that fell from his lips but went quiet when Jungkook sat up and turned you onto your back underneath him. The second he was on top and more in control the pace picked up. You could feel him begin to leave love bites on your chest but the tipping point was when he sucked on your nipple as your body bounced off the bed with each thrust. After all the abuse you did on his piercings he was tired and horny and ready to blow his load and he needed you there too.

This time you’re very aware of how crazy you’re about to sound. You don’t know Jungkook. You’ve kissed him as a stranger and now you’re sleeping with him as one but… but he wants more. He wants romance and you can just tell by the way he talks to you. For some reason that’s making it a lot easier for you to give him affection back and more willing to let him be with you. You weren’t thinking clearly though when you said, “Cum inside.”

Jungkook’s gaze darkened as he groped your breasts looking you in the eye and never once stopping his thrusts, “Really?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours holding you tighter and that’s when it hit you. You scratched along his back whining as you came around him. Jungkook practically hugged your body to his as his legs nearly gave out with his release.

You were sweaty and hot gasping for breath as he pulled out with much disappointment. He looked down at your naked body feeling all sorts of things he couldn’t understand but knew they were good. Just look at how fucked out you are. He wanted to go again but he knows for a fact how bad of an idea that was.

Right now it was in the heat of the moment to not use protection and a bad idea to do it again so he but his tongue and ran a gentle hand along your calf, “You okay?”

“Bathroom?” You asked ready to clean yourself and he pointed it out watching you leave. He fell back on his bed with a huge grin feeling at an all time high, unable to stay still as he shot up and found a towel to clean himself with in bed. When you came back out you didn’t even hesitate to crawl into his oleen arms tiredly.

“Sorry for earlier,” you said softly as you pointed at his red nipple. You had tugged a little too hard on accident and thought it brought him pain it also gave him extreme pleasure. He just smiled hugging you to his side, “I kinda liked it.”

You laughed with him, “Did they hurt?”

“Mm,” Jungkook looked up in thought. He couldn’t help but think about how much you two looked like a couple enjoying their company after making love, “Want me to tell you the truth or what will make me sound cooler?”

“Both,” you said, making him chuckle.

“Alright… I didn’t feel shit,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “But the second one also hurt so fucking bad it almost brought this grown man to tears.”

You laughed at his honesty making yourself more comfortable against him, “Why’d you get all these tattoos and piercings then?”

“So a pretty girl like you could ask me why,” he said teasingly and smiled when you rolled your eyes, “And because I thought they would make me look badass.”

“They do,” you laughed, daring to close your eyes and the way he let your hair was enough to have you falling asleep. You slept for a short moment, very short that had been cut short by a loud dog barking by the door. Jungkook groaned as he shouted out for Bam as you sat up looking dazed and confused.

Jungkook hurried to turn off the music and apologize to Bam for being so loud before practically running to you. He fell back into his bed quickly hoping to go back to sleep with you but it was too late. You didn’t mean to fall asleep and now look at the time. In hopes of distracting you, he leant forward and kissed you.

“I have to go,” you sighed against his lips as he kissed you again. It didn’t even seem like he heard you so you pushed at his face gently to get him to back up as you repeated, “I have to go.”

His eyebrows scrunched together as he used the small grip in your hair to hold you away from him, “Why?”

“Armani’s been alone for hours,” you said with a sigh and nothing in your voice sounded like you weren’t serious. He let you sit up but he quickly followed, “Who?”

“My cat,” you clarified as you looked around for your clothes. A scoff left his lips as he scratched his head, ruffling up his sex hair even more, “You’re leaving me for a cat?”

His eyes shifted to the alarm clock on his nightstand, “It’s past midnight.”

That made you laugh, “Jungkook, I’m just next door, besides if I don’t get home now Amarni will destroy my pillows again, trust me. He’s crazy.”

You ran your hand along his chest, half tempted to brush a finger over his piercing to see if he would suck in a breath like he did before.

Jungkook huffed in annoyance as he got up and slipped on the closest pair of pants he could find and threw on an old t-shirt. You looked at him, but he just scruffed up his hair again, still slightly dazed from the good fuck you two just had. He yawned, “I’ll walk you back then.”

You didn’t argue as he followed you out of his apartment and you really did feel a bit flustered doing this but you had to. You really weren’t lying about Armani, he’s a cat who likes routine and you told him you would be coming home tonight. If he notices that you might not be back he’ll act like a total brat and scratch up your pillows like last time. Plus, if you left then you wouldn’t have to worry about being kicked out and forced to take the walk of shame in the morning.

You stood in front of your apartment door with Jungkook right there in front of you. You leaned against your door for a second as you looked back at him, “I’m sorry.”

“Hm,” he trailed off, taking a step closer to you until one arm was around your waist and a hand was on your neck, “When can I see you again?” It was very obvious that leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do. You bit your bottom lip with raised brows, a bit in shock that he wanted to see you again. Despite how great tonight was, Jungkooked pegged you as a womanizer. Why would he want to see you again?

“I don’t know, I’m sort of busy these next couple of days.” Once again, it was not a lie. You had plans with your friends tomorrow and you’ll be busy with work.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed and before he could stop himself, he asked, “Are you lying to me?”

You’re leaving his bed for a fucking cat and now you’re telling him you’ll be too busy to see him? What bullshit lie was that? Did you not want to see him again after tonight? Do you think he’s going to let you give up that easily?

The question was unexpected but he spoke to you in his usual gentle and deep tone that you were a little confused to answer.

“No, I’ve got plans tomorrow and I’ll be working all day this week,” you said with narrowed eyes, “Why would I lie to you?”

Jungkook smiled softly now as if he hadn’t looked so serious seconds ago, “You’re right, I’m sorry I guess it didn’t make sense to me at first. I’m feeling tired.”

He acted strangely and you’re beginning to pick up on that a little bit but that only caught your interest more, like you wanted to know what his deal was. Why is a seemingly charming and good looking man single? You’re sure he gets hit on all the time and he might enjoy it even if he’s planning to sleep with you. What was his deal?

You placed a hand on the back of his neck and without much effort, reached up to capture his lips with yours. He didn’t put up a fight at all, choosing instead to focus on your tender affection, reminiscent of the night you’ve just spent together. He could stay like this for the rest of the night if you let him.

You told yourself over and over again that you weren’t going to get caught up on a guy again and yet here you are making out with this guy who you kissed right after a break up weeks ago all over again. Was this even what you wanted?

You gave him a wary smile, “I’ll call you?”

Music played loudly in the dimly lit studio and all you heard was the sound of tattoo guns buzzing away.

Rosemary by Deftones filled the black room as Jungkook bit his lip ring in concentration, not bothering to turn at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Namjoon and Yoongi walked into the tattoo parlor that was covered from floor to ceiling in artwork and pictures Jungkook did.

Jungkook was dressed in all black with his tatted hands hidden away by black latex gloves. He had his hair tied back and out of his face so he can work better and his black chunky boots tapped against the floor to the best of the music every now and then when he hummed to himself.

“You almost done?” Namjoon asked as he looked at what he was working on right now. His client sat in the chair with her neck tilted to the side as he did a shaded tattoo behind her ear. The girl was hot, dyed black hair, tattoos, piercings and quite literally the female version of Jungkook yet he didn’t so much as smile whenever she tried to clearly hit on him.

“Almost,” Jungkook said as he used a hand wipe to clean off excess ink. He tilted his head in thought as he looked it over, “Actually, yeah I am. Take a look in the mirror.”

He wheeled his chair back as he pulled off his gloves and looked at his friends, “What are you guys doing here?”

He took his vape out of his pocket and hit it right there in front of them as he waited for the chick to come back and tell him what she thinks about it. Yoongi sat in the unused tattoo chair, “Let’s get some drinks.”

“Alright,” Jungkook said simply. The two looked at each other in confusion as Jungkook told the girl how much it was and tucked the cash into his pocket. They thought it would have taken more to convince him like it usually did. As he finished up with the client he had a little smile on his face and was humming along to whatever song was playing off his phone.

“That was easy,” Namjoon pointed out.

“I’m done for the day anyway,” Jungkook shrugged.

He closed the shop and went to the back where his things were. Yoongi and Namjoon waited out front by the counter, taking in the sight of Jungkook’s tattoo parlor. It wasn’t big by any means but he got a lot of business. The room looked exactly like something Jungkook would decorate and he gets a lot of clients every day. It probably helps that clients tell their friends about him and they come too, looking to get a tattoo from him. It’s not a surprise that most of his clients are women.

Yoongi looked slightly bored waiting for Jungkook to finish and he found himself skimming all the papers on Jungkook’s counter. His brows furrowed as he picked up a small slip of paper and let his eyes widen as he read it. It was receipts from a few floral shops,

An order of 20 bouquets of Baby Breath’s flowers.

He tapped Namjoon on the shoulder until he had his attention and showed him the paper.

When Jungkook came out, he found himself asking, “What’s up with all these flowers?”

The smile on Jungkook’s face seemed to tighten as he took the paper out of their hands, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Is it for the chick you’re seeing? That’s a bit extreme don’t you think?” Namjoon asked with a chuckle as the three left the studio letting Jungkook lock it up. He didn’t say anything for a second.

It wasn’t extreme.

It was romantic?

You worked as a florist. You liked flowers, you liked Baby Breath flowers and he looked up what they meant.

Undying love.

That’s what he felt for you and he wanted to give you a gift you’ll enjoy. Did he maybe go too far? Yeah, but you won’t be upset. You can’t be.

“Wait, how did I not know you’re seeing someone?” Yoongi asked.

“I didn’t know for a while either,” Namjoon told him, “Jungkook show him a picture.”

“Alright,” Jungkook said as he exited out of the app he was currently on to go through his camera roll. He got in the backseat of Yoongi’s car, scrolling through his pictures until he found one. A smile came to his face as he took a second to admire you.

He took this picture last night. You couldn’t see much because the lights were off but after the two of you made love you had fallen asleep. It was right before you jolted awake remembering your stupid cat but he got a picture of you sleeping soundly against him. Your hair framed your face perfectly and you looked so peaceful and at home in his arms that he needed a picture to remember the first night together. It was also the first photo he took of you up close.

“Shit, hang this up in a museum,” Yoongi joked because it really was a nice picture, “How long have you been together?”

“A while.”

When they got to the bar it was already packed with sweaty bodies that made Jungkook cringe whenever someone bumped into him. They got their drinks and went to a table, “So how did the two of you meet?”

“Y/n lives next door,” Jungkook said as he tilted his phone a bit so they couldn’t see the way he switched to another app. He typed in his password and went straight to the video footage. He just had to know if you were home yet.

“Damn, you just moved there too, how’d you pull someone that fast?” Yoongi laughed because they didn’t know that Jungkook just started talking to you a couple days ago. To them, Jungkook and you have been dating for a few weeks now.

“We met a little before that,” His brows knitted together as he looked at the footage. Your curtains were drawn so he couldn’t see in and he can’t tell if you’re home or not. He immediately went to text you.

jungkook: are you home yet? :)

You’ll be honest, you saw Jungkook’s text but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to answer. You have been texting with Jungkook nonstop since that Friday night where he fucked you so good that you woke up with bruises on your hips and left scratch marks along his back that he generously decided to show you a picture of over text.

You’re not sure what to think about him either. Friday night was fun, you got drinks and got to know him better, he treated you right and aside from that strange conversation about destiny the night went perfect. He took you back to his place where you quite literally had the best sex you’ve had in a while and he didn’t ghost you right after. Hell, he made you not want to leave but you did anyway.

Today you’ve been texting on and off and it was all your fault. He responds so quickly but you get busy or forget to respond until he sends another like right now. The last text he sent was asking what time you got off but you had been dealing with delivery orders so you never responded. You had completely forgotten about it until you were in the elevator to your building heading home. Your friend Jiyoung was right behind you, ready to nap on your couch but you weren’t paying attention to her anymore.

You were so focused on your phone that you nearly missed the sight before you as you walked down the hall to your apartment. Your expression changed to that of confusion as you stopped a few feet away from your door. You couldn’t even get to it with the line of bouquets scattered across the entrance. Some lined the walls, some bunched up in front of your door, some had cards in them.

“What the fuck?” Jiyoung asked as she counted them, “Who did this?”

Without much debate, you bent down and took a card in your hands, flipping it open to read:

“For my undying love.”

You couldn’t do anything but blink in surprise. What did this mean?

“Let’s get them inside,” you said with a sigh as you unlocked your front door and urged your friend to help you put them in. It took a few back and forth trips for the both of you but once you scattered them all in your apartment it was very overwhelming.

“This is crazy,” Jiyoung said even as she laughed, “You’ve got an admirer? Is that guy from the other night?”

“Um,” you bit your lip, confused and a little thrown off by this, “Give me a second.”

Jiyoung waved you off as she threw herself on your couch and moved a vase off the coffee table so she had an unobstructed view of your tv. You went straight to your bedroom already pulling up Jungkook’s contact information and dialing.

“Are you home?”

“I am,” you said as you took in your bedroom and it’s lack of flowers, “It was you, right?”

“What?” Jungkook asked over the loud music. He could barely hear you and without another word he was getting up to find somewhere quieter. He ended up in the hall that led toward the restrooms where the music was a bit drowned out.

“The flowers, was it you?”

His smile seemed to drop, “Why? Were you hoping for someone else?”

“No,” you told him, “I just…”

“You don’t like them? I thought they were your favorite,” he said with a boyish smile, proud of himself. He watched some drunk girls stumble past him with disgust.

“They are my favorite,” you said, “Uh, thank you but how'd you find a place that had this many Baby’s Breath?”

“Oh! I had to call up a few different places,” Jungkook said, “And obviously I couldn’t call you because that would ruin the surprise—Hey! Now that you’re home, should I come over?”

“Oh um, I have some friends over, remember?” You asked him shyly. You could hear him take a deep breath but you’re not sure if that meant anything or not.

Who did you have over? Was it that same guy he’s seen before? What was going on between you two anyway?

Some girl bumped into him and he turned to her with a glare, almost forgetting that he had you on the phone. She smiled at him like that would make things better but he was starting to get annoyed. It wasn’t her fault but that didn’t change the fact that her touching him just bothered him. He turned away to talk to you again. He forced his voice to sound light, “I remember, you’re busy.”

“Sorry,” you apologized gnawing on your bottom lip, “How about tomorrow?”

He smiled, “Tomorrow? I’m down.”

“Okay let’s meet then but I have to go now.”

Jungkook said his goodbye and stood in the dark hall in thought. He had to find a way to get a camera in your house. He can’t see much just from the window and he needs to know who you invite over when he’s not around.

“Excuse me.”

He turned back to the drunk that hadn’t left yet despite his efforts to ignore her presence. She smiled at him sweetly like that would make him swoon but he was mad and it wouldn’t work. You were too busy for him but not your friends?

“What?” He asked, already trying to walk back to his friends.

“You look familiar, have we met before?” She asked, following after him and he turned looking at her from head to toe and it made her blush.

“Definitely not.” He was leaving again until a small hand wrapped around his bicep and with an annoyed look he looked back at her. His patience was running thin.

“Well, uh, here then,” she pushed a paper into his hands finally releasing her hold on his bicep. He looked down at the line of paper that she clearly got from the restroom with a number scribbled on it in a rush.

His eyes shifted back to hers and instead of running off shyly she held his gaze with a confident smile. The paper sat in his open palm and without tearing his gaze away from her he made a fist crumpling the paper in his hold and just like that, he threw it on the floor, “What makes you think I would be interested in you?”

He even had the nerve to laugh when she looked taken back. He left without another word and went back to his friends.

“Who was that on the phone?” Yoongi asked when he sat back down. He smiled that bunny smile, “Y/n.”

“What’d she think about the flowers?” Namjoon asked curiously.

“She loved them,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “I think.”

And you’ll love the tattoo just behind his ear too.

“I can’t help but think you look a little tense, Kook.”

Jungkook ignored his friend as he delivered another hit to the punching bag with a low grunt. Make Me Bad by Korn played loudly in the empty training room. He ignored Seokjin as he continued to hit the punching bag. Jin released a sigh as he sat back and watched his friend release whatever stress he felt.

“She’s avoiding me,” Jungkook said to himself as he hit the bag hard. Jin wasn’t fully listening anymore but Jungkook didn’t seem to care as he went on, “She’s lying to me.”

“She’s fucking lying to me,” he hit the 200lb punching bag hard enough to make it move back from the bar and farther away from him.

“Who the fuck are you talking about?” Jin asked, watching Jungkook throw off his waistband and gloves. His nose was running from how hard he was working out and his heart pumped with adrenaline. He sniffled as he pushed back his sweaty curls, “Y/n. She hasn’t texted me back in over an hour.”

“She’s probably busy,” Jin said, watching Jungkook lift his shirt up to wipe at his forehead.

“She’s not,” Jungkook said with a tensed jaw, “I know exactly what she’s doing.”

Just before he came to train with Jin he looked at his camera. You had the windows open today and you had people over. He doesn’t care if you invite people over but two guys?

Two guys?

Wasn’t he enough?

One of those guys was over all the fucking time and that pissed him off. How could he be sure you’re not messing around with one of them behind his back?

Jin wasn’t as close to Jungkook as the other two. They were friends and hung out often but he’s not as caught up with Jungkook and his antics as the others. To him, Jungkook was just hoping to be with his girlfriend, so he sighed and said, “So go over and see what she’s up to.”

Jungkook didn’t quite hear his friend with his loud thoughts drumming in his ears so he turned to him with dark eyes, “You think she’s cheating on me?”

“Only one way to find out,” Jin said with a smirk, unaware of how far Jungkook will go to know. He watched his friend’s mind run rampant but he just sat back comfortably. Jungkook was just a concerned boyfriend after all. He didn’t think deeply about his comment, he assumed maybe Jungkook would just tell him to fuck off but he really did look pissed.

When they finished their training, Jungkook rushed over to his place to wash off his work out. He practically ran next door jumping steps to go to you and when he knocked on your door, he couldn’t help but look upset when another man opened it.

It took a second for Taehyung to recognize him, he’s never seen him up close before but when he caught sight of the tattoo sleeve he knew exactly who this guy was. He looked back into your apartment ready to call you over only to find you standing behind him already, “Jungkook?”

Taehyung moved out of the way and let Jungkook through who immediately went right to you, “I wanted to see you, is this a bad time?”

You looked back to your friends who didn’t even pretend to act like they weren’t eavesdropping. You smiled, “No, come in, we’re just talking.”

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you inside and you led him straight to the kitchen, “Want a drink?”

“Mhm,” Jungkook responded, watching you sweetly as you opened and closed cabinets. You served him a drink and asked, “What’s that red mark by your eye?”

It took him a moment to process what you were asking and he brought a hand up, “Oh, I was boxing and I think my friend hit me a little too hard.”

You made a pouting face teasingly, “Poor baby.”

He smiled knowing you were just teasing him but also showing interest, “Kiss it better?” With a roll of your eyes you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss near his eye. You led him back to the living room where your friends were.

“So you’re the one who Y/n’s cheating on me with,” Hoseok joked right away and it made you roll your eyes as the others laughed. Jungkook didn’t react but his gaze did seem to harden as he stared at the stranger. You scooted a little closer to Jungkook letting him wrap his arm around you as you leaned back on the couch, “Pack it up Hobi, the joke’s old.”

“It’s not a joke to me!” Hoseok said with a wink as he turned to Jungkook, “Alright whatever, as long as you’re better than the last guy.”

“Oh my god!” Jiyoung squeaked, “Hobi, you can’t just say things like that. Are you drunk?”

He smiled, “I’m just saying.”

Jungkook tilted his head in your direction but you just sighed, “Please ignore them.”

“Oh.”

“So, what are you two anyway? You went crazy with the flowers,” Taehyung asked curiously, joking a little at the end.

Jungkook kept his gaze down, trying his hardest to ignore your friends while also listen in to your answer. You raised your cup to your lips looking at Jungkook who met your gaze hesitantly.

Say he’s your boyfriend, Jungkook thought.

Say you’re his.

Say he’s the on—

“We’re just… yknow, having fun?”

He stopped.

His muscles tensed, tongue poking against his cheek as he looked away from you to hide his expression. His lips curled with the need to scoff but he kept it in. He wanted to ask you why you would say that but not in front of the others. It should be a private conversation between the two of you about your relationship because you clearly weren’t just having fun.

He kept his gaze focused on the picture you had hanging above the fireplace mantle. Your apartment was identical to him and he looked at every corner as if in search of something. With a clear of his throat, he turned to you, “Bathroom?”

“I’ll show you,” you said, patting his thigh as you rose to your feet. You took his hand in yours immediately shooting electricity down his arm as he held it tightly. You pointed to the bathroom but before you got there you asked, “You okay? You’re being kind of quiet.”

“I’m fine, I’m having fun,” Jungkook said with a strained voice, he never tore his gaze away from yours as you stood in front of him near the bathroom. You haven’t known him for long but you do know that when Jungkook looks at you, he never looks this strained. There was clearly something on his mind.

With a defeated sigh, you gave up on asking him anything and went back to the living room. Jungkook waited against the door for a minute to see if you would come back. When you didn’t he took a turn down the rest of the hall fumbling with something he shoved in the big pocket of his black cargo pants.

He looked down at the tiniest camera he’s ever seen and like he was walking into his own place, he went straight to your bedroom. He moved swiftly, finding exactly where he wanted to hide it and in no time he was back to the bathroom pretending to be busy.

You released a sigh, “Let’s call it a night.”

You enjoyed having your friends over and you had spent pretty much all evening with them but you’re getting tired already. It was late, you had a surprisingly busy day today and all your social battery is just completely out. Plus, if they’re just going to talk or tease Jungkook then you'd rather just call it a night. You feel it in your gut that you said something that annoyed him at least a little and it’s probably when they asked what the two of you were.

You don’t know what your relationship with him is, if you’re being honest. Since the beginning you told yourself you didn’t want to date but it feels like that’s what Jungkook wants. You shouldn’t lead him on so you should be open about what you’re looking for but you also don’t want to make him stop talking to you. You have no idea how he really thinks about you so it’s all just so confusing.

“Awe,” Jiyoung whined as she watched you begin to clean up some of the things. The guys seemed too drunk to even care that you were kicking them out as they got up without complaint. When Jungkook finished up he came out to an empty apartment.

He didn’t like what he felt at the moment. You telling your friends that it’s all just fun really bothered him and it made him realize that he hasn’t asked the right questions. Jungkook played with his lip ring as he watched you clean up and he found himself asking, “So uh, how long ago was your last relationship? Your friend brought it up kind of and I guess I just never asked that sort of thing.”

“Um…” your movements seemed to slow as you thought about how to answer, “Two months ago?”

It was quiet for a moment and as hard as you tried, you couldn’t read his expression. Jungkook’s gaze hardened as he tried to think of what happened two months ago, “When we met? Do you still talk to him?”

You rolled your eyes remembering your ex boyfriend. At the time you definitely were a lot more hurt about it now but that doesn’t mean you want to talk about the guy. He cheated on you and now you’re scared it’ll happen again if you start dating.

“No, he cheated on me,” you told Jungkook as you sat down on your couch. Jungkook bit his lip ring hard in thought.

If you and the guy broke up around the time where he met you then that would mean when he met you at the club and saw your bloodshot eyes… it must’ve been when you broke up. You kissed him in the middle of a heartbreak too drunk to even remember. Now you’re telling your friends it’s all just some fun you’re having fun with him and he still doesn’t get what that means.

You watched him stare off into space, eyes wide in thought and you patted the spot on the couch next to yours for him to sit down. You know you’re confusing and you really don’t think you want to be in a relationship but Jungkook… it’s hard to explain. He’s a little intense and sometimes too pushy but for some reason you really did like him.

As he sat down you couldn’t help but play with the Sterling silver Vivienne Westwood chain necklace he wore. He watched your finger hook itself onto the chain and his breath hitched at the warm touch of your finger against his skin. You looked at him with wide and sparkly eyes that had his tongue playing with his lip ring as he bunched up the hem of his black Nirvana tee in his fingers to stop his hands from shaking by having you so close. Without much warning, you tugged on the chain with your index finger and like a devoted pet, he was following your call until his lips met yours. Some of his longer curls tickled your cheeks and he kissed you with such eagerness nearly toppling over you when you pulled on the chain.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip softly as he opened his eyes, looking down at you, “I would never hurt you like the others have.”

You’ve grown used to the way Jungkook acts around you. He likes to be the one to do things for you despite you being able to do it on your own. He hates when you don’t text back in an hour or two. He always seems to know when you’re not home, he offers to pick you up from work, he tries to come anytime you go out with your friends. He’s just sort of always around. You’re not sure if he’s like that with others but that’s how he is with you.

You should definitely be a little burdened by it, it’s suffocating honestly but you genuinely don’t think Jungkook has bad intentions with it. He doesn’t talk much about himself or his friends or family but he always seems to be interested in hearing everything about you. You’re not sure if he has many other people to talk to and you enjoy his time too much to push him away.

One thing you hate to admit and really the only downside to him is his obsession with getting you flowers. The first time the two of you went out he asked you what flowers you liked and you told him absentmindedly. You never expected him to have so many bouquets of them delivered—nor did you expect to receive one every time you saw him.

You loved flowers and were thankful for the thought behind it but you’re beginning to hate Baby’s Breath. You’re starting to see them everywhere from work to home to any time you see Jungkook. They’re everywhere and it’s beginning to feel like you’re drowning in the little white flowers.

If only you had the heart to tell him that he didn’t need to get you flowers every time he saw you.

“Y/n,” Jungkook had a huge smile on his face, “This is Namjoon, That’s Yoongi.”

He pointed to two of his friends who hung around his living room. His arm was around your waist loosely as he directed you to a seat, only to pull you onto his lap when he sat down. You smile shyly as you attempt to greet them only to have Jungkook pull your attention back on him when he places a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade, arms tight around you.

Namjoon was surprised to see this side of Jungkook and he’s only just met you. It makes him wonder if he’s always been this way with you. He very rarely sees the guy smile much less show this much affection to one person and it’s all just very new to him. He’s seen Jungkook upset and mad plenty of times but to see him look soft and gentle was something entirely different.

“Nice of Jungkook to finally let us meet you,” Yoongi said with a light chuckle as he offered you a drink. You took the cup from him with a smile as he continued, “You’re all he talks about, it’s weird.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook warned as you felt his arms tighten around you just slightly. Yoongi just smiled, “I’m just saying, it’s been nonstop weeks of listening about you talk about your girlfriend so it’s nice to finally get to meet her, right Joon?”

Your brows seemed to scrunch together in confusion as you looked to Jungkook. The two of you weren’t technically dating, sure, you hang out all the time and have sex but you’ve never actually considered yourselves in a relationship. You thought you’ve made it clear that this was fun and maybe you’re to blame for possibly leading him on but he’s never referred to you as his girlfriend or partner.

If he has been saying that to his friends then you would like to have a talk with him about where the two of you stand before it happens again. You leaned back against Jungkook’s chest trying to look at him but before you could say something he planted a quick kiss on your lips making you forget your own words.

Jungkook knew that your pretty mind was thinking about what his friends were saying and he just wanted to tell you not to worry about any of it. Of course he tells his friends you’re his girlfriend but it’s not like he’s begging you to be. He knows that you had a rough break up with the last guy and as much as he wants to find out who he was and hurt him for hurting you… he also had to thank him. If it wasn’t for the break up then you wouldn’t have been out that night of your kiss and he wouldn’t have met you. He knows that to you, a relationship isn’t ideal at the moment but he’s still basically forcing you into one even if you want to say you’re not dating him.

He spends all his free time with you.

He calls you and texts you all day.

He watches over you while you sleep through his new cameras.

He makes sure nobody breaks in.

He’s always around in case something happens and he knows you’re thankful for him even if you don’t really know all the things he does for you.

You began to completely tune out the rest of their talk growing bored and you resorted to playing with his hair. It was getting longer and the curls were beginning to loosen so it was easy to run your fingers through them and hold it back like you were going to tie his hair. Maybe you were acting like a kid letting him talk to his friends while also basically begging for his attention but you were just bored. His friends seemed like nice people but you weren’t really interested in their conversation. You felt bad for sort of distracting Jungkook but you didn’t stop playing with his hair, even when he smiled like a bunny at the way you pulled on a strand only to release it and watch it recoil.

You brushed his hair back tucking some of it behind his ear and just like that, your hand seemed to freeze.

Right there staring back at you was a small tattoo that you failed to notice before. Your nail just barely brushed over it but it was real and it’s not old. It was healed for the most part but you can still see specs of dry skin around it meaning it had to be somewhat recent.

A tattoo of Baby’s Breath flowers scattered across the back of his ear and they were small delicate drawings tucked away. How did you not notice this before?

Was it always there?

When did he do it?

It wasn’t because you said they were your favorite, right?

You understand the bouquets — despite the copious amount of them he sends you — you understand the curiosity behind plants but to get it tattooed on his own skin?

You moved your hand away and turned to face forward again as you tried to process what you just saw.

You must be imagining it. There’s no reason why Jungkook would get a tattoo of a flower you told him was your favorite. It just didn’t make sense why he would do that.

Him getting that tattoo for you [maybe?] didn’t make sense.

“What’s up?” He asked you as you stared off into space. His friends had been in their own conversation and Deftones played quietly in the background but like usual, his attention was only ever on you. Even when you’re not around he finds his mind consumed by the thought of you and there’s no escape—not that he would need to.

“Nothing,” you muttered under your breath as you played with the ring on his fingers absentmindedly. You only did this when you were lost in thought and he was curious to know what it is. If he could know every single thing you think about then he would feel much more at ease.

You were being so cute right now even if you weren’t talking. You were sweet and pliant, sitting on his lap letting him hold you and kiss you like his pretty little girlfriend that you were. He sincerely regrets inviting his friends over because all he would like to do is kick them out so he could be alone with you again.

“Actually,” you whispered making his head perk up to listen, “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” Jungkook didn’t hesitate to stand up with you against him as he looked to his friends, “We’ll be right back.”

You followed Jungkook down the hall into his familiar bedroom with the black silk bed sheets and band posters on the walls. This time around there was a new picture frame on his desk and it was one of you and him. You seemed to be asleep in the picture with your head resting on Jungkook’s naked chest near his piercings. He had a tattooed hand in your hair and you can just tell his touch was gentle. You can’t remember when he would have taken that but he had the picture framed.

In the corner of his nightstand was a vase filled with Baby’s Breath and for the first time since you met him did you actually feel the suffocating nature of his affection. Just earlier you were saying how much you enjoyed him and yet right now it’s starting to hit you that this might not all be normal.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked gently as he watched you look around his bedroom, a smile on his face.

You didn’t know where to begin so you started with the first thing that confused you today.

“Your friends called me your girlfriend,” you said, “And I… well alright whatever, it’s fine but we’ve never talked about a relationship, you know?”

“I know…” Jungkook said, smile gone as he waited for you to keep going. He doesn’t understand why you feel the need to clear it up, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. It’s the truth even if you hate to admit it.

“You know?” You asked, “So why did your friends call me your girlfriend? And why did they say they’ve been waiting to meet me for a while no—“

Jungkook released a soft chuckle as he came up to you, brushing your hair back, “I don’t know, maybe they just assumed because I talk about you a lot. I didn’t know I couldn’t even talk about you to my friends.”

“That’s not the problem Jungkook,” you took a deep breath in thought, trying to gather the right words, “What about the flowers?”

“What about them?”

“I appreciate the gesture, I really do but you don’t… you know you don’t have to give me some all the time,” you said with your arms crossed over your chest self consciously, “And the tattoo.”

“Tattoo?”

Jungkook was playing dumb and he was doing a hell of a good job at it. He’s not sure what your deal is or why you suddenly look uncomfortable next to him but you need to stop. Everything’s fine, you’re making yourself worked up and he doesn’t get why.

“Behind your ear,” you clarified, “Of the flower? When did you get that?”

He shrugged, “A week ago, maybe? Do you like it?”

“What is it?” You needed to hear him say it. He stared at you blankly as he took another step toward you.

“Baby’s Breath, I didn’t know they were my favorite too until you came along,” he said and before he could take another he asked, “Are you alright? You seem a little shaken up.”

“I just need a minute,” you said, missing the way his dark eyes hardened as he watched you step back from him. With a clenched jaw he nodded, “Alright, take all the time you need. I’ll just be out there.”

You didn’t say anything as you went ahead and took a seat on the edge of his bed hearing the sound of the door click shut behind him. Maybe you’re just overthinking it. He can have a flower tattoo… no big deal.

Even if it’s the same flower he’s delivered practically a hundred bouquets of to you.

Even if he asked what your favorite flower was.

It’s a basic flower you’re overthinking it.

Jungkook looked at his two friends who busied themselves with bottles of Soju and his large television. They didn’t even bother to turn his music off either and now Ever by Team Sleep was playing at an annoyingly high volume with the tv on too.

Yoongi was laughing over something Namjoon said, he looked up just in time to find Jungkook standing only a few feet away from them, keeping still. He still smiled with the urge to laugh as he asked, “Everything good? You want another drink?”

“Actually, I think it’s time you leave,” Jungkook said coldly yet his two friends barely flinched, waving him off with a hand. It’s not like they weren’t used to his quick mood changes, they’ve known him too long to not read the signs. He’s a little intense and serious but he’s also a loving kid at heart. He doesn’t know how to express anything properly, he just knows how to do it in the extreme. He’s annoyed by something right now but give him a drink and he’ll get over it.

Namjoon extended out a glass of Soju to him, “One more.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second as you tried to clear your head. You were overthinking shit, you don’t even want this. You like him but a relationship?

Alone in his bedroom you could really picture this as yours. It’s crazy how identical they are and it was a good distraction to keep you from going back out there and telling him you would just like to go home for the night. Standing up you walked over to the window finding it strange to view your own apartment out the window.

You took a step away turning instead to look at his desk which was unorganized and filled with tattoo sketches from when he does work at home. Now you were being nosy, you were trying to stall your departure but the picture frame of you on his desk was just staring at you. You picked it up to get a better look but the lights reflection was too bright. With squinted eyes you turned it down and popped the back off hoping to see the picture without the glass in the way.

Instantly, three matching 4x6 pictures fell out of the open frame with their backs facing up. You assumed Jungkook just continued to put new pictures over the old ones instead of switching them out.

Worried he would catch you snooping, you bent down to pick the pictures up, turning them your way.

Jungkook took a deep breath as he stared at the two of them unamused, “I said, I think it’s time you leave.”

He knows you’re upset and something tells him he’s to blame so he needs to figure out what. He can’t focus on you while his friends are here trying to expose and ruin everything he has built up with you.

Why did they have to call you his girlfriend and why are you being such a bitch about it?

He fucking hated flowers yet he wanted to get something you love permanent on his skin and you want be mad?

He can’t catch a break. First you can’t even remember him, then you make him worried sick whenever you’re at home alone or with one of your friends. He’s tried so hard to not be the possessive boyfriend but goddamn is he sick of watching your bedroom camera footage and seeing you laughing and hanging with Taehyung every other night.

Now you can’t even be appreciative of the very kind and thoughtful gesture of putting a permanent mark of what your relationship was on his neck? All of his tattoos have a meaning and yours means the most yet you want to question why he would even get it? You’re very lucky he’s able to play things off to save himself from embarrassment. You didn’t recognize his gesture and instead questioned him, turning it from romantic to strange.

He’s just annoyed at this point but he knows that once he gets you to relax everything will be fine. You’re like a little kitten, if he pushes too hard you draw back so he has to ease you into this like he’s done since the beginning.

“Oh,” Namjoon was stunned as his eyes trailed back to Jungkook’s room where you had closed yourself on for some reason. He wondered for a moment if the two of you were in a fight because Jungkook looked so happy earlier and now he just looks on edge. Yoongi and Namjoon shared a similar look as they slowly came to accept it despite how strange he was acting, “Okay.”

“Are you guys alright?” Yoongi couldn’t help but ask as he got up to leave. Jungkook forced a smile, “Yeah, Y/n’s not feeling good though.”

Namjoon seemed to relax, “Really?”

“She did seem kind of quiet…” Yoongi said as his friend nodded in agreement.

You felt stuck, you couldn’t tear your gaze away and you couldn’t even try to move your body.

The first picture was alright, it was the same picture of you in his arms, it was normal.

The second one was… alarming? It was a zoomed in picture of your bedroom window with you sitting at your vanity doing your makeup to go out. You were looking at yourself and you were holding a lipgloss or something, you couldn’t tell with the window frames in the way.

The third was where your blood seemed to run cold. Right there in black and white was a clear and up close picture of you sleeping in your own bed. It wasn’t taken by someone next to you but more so it was an angle that looked like it was hidden.

Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair as his friends finally left and he prepared to see what was on your mind. He let himself back into his bedroom quietly, clicking the door shut and smiling warmly, “Kay, it’s just us, you can come out now.”

He turned to you calmly, eyes locking on the three photos in your hands and the empty picture frame laying on his desk.

Oh.

You found his favorite pictures.

“What are these?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady and calm, “Are you stalking me?”

“Not exactly,” Jungkook sighed in defeat, “It’s just…”

He took a step toward you and you immediately put your hands up in defense. He practically giggled as he moved your hands away, “Stop messing around, I’ll explain.”

“Don’t touch me,” you said, taking a step away, “Do you have a camera in my room?”

Jungkook wasn’t smiling anymore, “Why can’t I touch you? I’ll explain, just relax.”

“I’m not going to relax, Jungkook, I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on,” you told him moving closer to the front door with him circling you like a predator watching its pray waiting to attack.

“Yes, I put a camera in your room but I was just worried,” he said with a laugh like he was shy to admit it, “I just kept thinking of something happening to you in your dreams and—look, stay calm, I’m just being honest, isn’t that what you wanted?”

You were itching to leave because suddenly there’s something deep in your gut telling you that this guy really is weird. Was he really trying to justify a literal crime? How crazy was he?

He’s so calm too and he’s smiling and laughing like it’s all just no big deal even though you’ve just learned he’s got cameras watching you in your own home.

You didn’t want to know anything more at the moment. To be honest you were just freaked the fuck out and ready to just leave and get away from him. You needed to find that camera too or else you think you’ll faint from wondering if this was actually happening or not. His friends weren’t even here anymore to hear you two talk.

Jungkook watched as you reached for the door and before either of you knew it, he was on his feet moving to stop you. His arms wrapped around your body, trapping your arms at your sides and carrying you away from the door. You immediately went to scream but his hand came up around your mouth as he walked over to his bed, “Shhh, I’m not gonna do anything, babe, you know me. I just don’t want you leaving while we’re trying to have a conversation.”

“What was I saying?” Jungkook asked himself as he let his hand fall from your mouth, “Oh! You know, I never meant to do that but I was just never able to stop thinking about you. I wanted to be close with you even when I couldn’t be and I had to think of a way to do that.”

“From the very first moment I saw you and we kissed, I just… well it’s just hard to believe we’re not meant to be together,” Jungkook said, staring off at the pictures in your hand, “I mean moving in next door was really just by chance but isn’t it so crazy that fate wanted us to find each other. You still don’t believe it?”

“You’re crazy,” you muttered fighting back a tear as you pushed back at him. His hold on you loosened at your words and you took the chance to get up but he was right there in front of you with widened eyes.

“I’m not crazy,” he said with a shaky voice like he was truly becoming more unhinged by the second, “I’m in love.”

Each step you took back he took one forward and you wanted to run out the door but you couldn’t. It’s like you were completely stuck trying to figure out what to do. It’s crazy how your best friends always joked about him being a stalker but for him to actually set up cameras specifically to watch you? That was more than what you ever imagined and you were so scared. What other pictures or videos did he have of you? What did he do with them?

Jungkook knew you were incapable of running. You love him too and he knows it, maybe you didn’t in the beginning but now you’re clearly attached to him just the same and you’re so surprised you’re not running. You want to run but you can’t deny that you have really grown to love him and if he has to show you how far he’ll go to make you love him back he will. He dropped down to his knees in front of you taking your hands in his and gripping them tightly against his chest when you tried to yank them back.

“Jungkoo—“

“I’ll change,” Jungkook said and you watched the way his eyes seemed to redden and shake from how hard he was trying but to cry or go crazy, “I’ll change Y/n, I promise. I’ll be better. I’ll—“

“No, it’s too late, I can’t. You’ve been stalking me! Do you get that? I’m not just going to change my mind Jungkook,” you tried to say but he wouldn’t let go. He only moved closer, arms wrapping around your waist as he clung to you from the floor down on his knees for you.

“I love you, Y/n, please just give me a chance,” Jungkook said as you tried shaking him off.

“I don’t love you Jungkook, I never wi—“

“I don’t care!” He shouted making you jump at the sudden rise of his deep voice, hands tightening on your hips, eyes wide and red, close to tears and unblinking, “You don’t have to love me back as long as you let me love you.”

“That’s so fucked,” you nearly cried but he wouldn’t let up.

“Y/n.”

You looked down at him and in truth he looked like he was close to snapping and you were scared. He had such a strong idea about romance and love and soulmates that he doesn’t even care if you don’t feel the same. That’s sad and pathetic. This wasn’t the Jungkook you had started to fall for.

You never expected him to be like this, he wasn’t dangerous or putting you in harms way he’s just… he’s just really fucking delusional and that’s what’s scary. You don’t know what he’ll do. He’s never made you feel unsafe like he is right now.

“Don’t you realize that there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you to let me love you,” Jungkook said seriously, “I’ll show you it all.”

He’s been very tame till now. He’s tried so hard to be gentle and loving in front of you but you’re making it so hard right now to keep the act up. He never wanted to scare you but if you really do try and walk out that door and think he’s going to let you… you’re dead fucking wrong.

“Jungkook…” he clung to you, face pressed against your lower stomach not letting you move, “This isn’t normal.”

“Y/n if you try to leave me,” his voice was cracking, close to breaking and his entire body trembled, “I won’t be able to live without you, please…”

He was insane. You know he’s crazy, you know he’s just trying to scare you into not running out that door and you hated to admit that it was working. He just seemed so unhinged right now and the way his body was trembling and voice breaking as he hugged you so tightly, you really are scared he might do something to himself. It’s not something you want to risk by leaving, who knows what he’ll do to himself.

Unsure of what to do, you dropped a shaky hand into his hair, brushing it back as he cried, “I’ll change, I swear. You can’t leave me, I can’t live knowing you aren’t with me.”

You’ve heard so many stories about people trying to leave their partners and it only ended up with them in the news with old pictures of them smiling as people talked about how much they missed them and you really couldn’t do that. If he can’t have you… how do you know that means he’ll let someone else have you? He’s never made you fear for your life… he seemed so normal, not like this deranged man who’s been caught having secret cameras watching you.

With a shaky breath, you slowly letting your hands hug around his neck, “Shh, it’s alright…”

Your voice trembled in fear as you slowly dropped to your knees feeling him sob against you, “We—We’ll… let’s figure this out, okay? Just calm down, take a deep breath.”

“Y/n, I love you,” he hiccups as you could his face trying to wipe away tears as you dropped to your knees. Now that you’ve got a clearer head you can hear the stupid band he’s obsessed with still playing from the living room. His silver chain that you always played with still shimmered in the light and you hooked your fingers around it to remind him that you’re cooperating.

You’ve just now noticed that his Deftones’ Around the Fur tee was drenched in his tears along with the front of your jeans and you very carefully wrapped your arms around him, “I’m not leaving.”

He didn’t care if it was out of love or fear, he held you tightly nevertheless, not letting you go as he tried to kiss you only for you to flinch back. Scared he wouldn’t like that, you forced yourself to lean into him for a kiss, tasting his dry, salty tears on your lips.

He smiled his same stupid bunny smile—like everything was right in the world and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve been dreaming of you and me like this for so long time, baby, don’t you ever try to leave me again, okay?”

“Okay, why don’t we lie down? It’ll make you feel better,” you whispered gently and his dark eyes seemed to water and lower lip quiver as he nodded his head. Letting you lead him to his own bed and when you lied down, he went between your legs, keeping you pressed against the bed trapped.

That’s what being with him would feel like, like you’re trapped and all he’ll think about would be how he finally found the one that he’s been searching for. No bells chimed or birds sang, only Romantic Dreams by Deftones was heard playing in the background.

::.

listen y’all this is long 😭 I know it is and as of right now I have no desire to write a part two so it’s open ended. also idk how I feel about this yet but Jungkook is so hot. anyway the taglist is too long so I have to do it in parts.

so sorry to whoever took the time to read this I’m so sorry

personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog g @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802 @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

fic taglist: @beshy02 @jooniesxbby @ebony3-blog @loonehbleus @klutzymermaid @tarotcoconut @whipwhoops @wdym-ree @somehowukook @fxirytaetae @nochuel @thaiika @ilove-tae @taeyongzodiactinkiri @gamer-carat @jungkookieeee97 @l0cal101 @justinseagul1 @haileycannotcometothephonern @minayas1998 @autumnbear @urf1lterr @yoongiwantsme @wnderkoo @theblueslytherin @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @8makes1scream @yjwonnn @blueberry711 @kimchimtae @babyitscoldoutside @simple-day-dreamer @yoongisgirl @ackercute @glitterkoo @darkuni63

[taglist is too long and I can only do 50 so I have to add the rest of y’all in a reblog]

[sillysowa]

IF YOU STOP NOW, I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU

Pairing: Satoru Gojo X Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut with plot, fluff and light angst snuck into the end

Word Count: 8.2K

Warnings: Inappropriate use of a cursed technique, bondage with Gojo's blindfold, semi-public sex(?), oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, reader tastes their own cum

Synopsis: You've known Gojo since high school, and he's always enjoyed getting on your nerves, so of course he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to train you now that you're both teachers at Jujutsu High. How can he keep his composure when you show him your cursed technique? The one that allows him to feel everything he does to you? You feel too good to quit, not like Satoru could dream of stopping anyway

Reblogs are sooo appreciated!!<3

-

Your spine slammed against the hard floor for what you hoped would be the last time that night, and the groan that tore from your throat made your haughty counterpart laugh. You gave in and went limp, but Gojo kept up, his strong arms locked onto your frame to keep you restrained, to train you the best he could. Recently, you had been incredibly eager to learn, and Satoru was equally as keen to teach you because he just loved your spunk. It was nice to have someone he went to high school with come back into his life, even though you were a lot more of a bitch in training than he remembered. However, he allowed all your sass because he couldn’t let you go out in the world saying you’ve learned from 'the one and only, the best, Satoru Gojo!' only to perform in any way that didn’t meet his standards, so he trained you, even when it disrupted his sleep. 

“You giving up, sweetheart?” Gojo sneered, staring down at you with his captivating blue eyes that you could’ve sworn were glowing in the low light. You didn’t like to look too hard, worried his six eyes ability might have some side-effect on you, but he seems to relish in this subtlety. Your body language tells him more than your words ever do. He shifts his head to maintain eye contact and his hair falls loosely around his eyes. You on the other hand attempt to hide your face against your own neck. 

“No.” You huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes with an exhale as your hands are currently out of commission, Gojo’s strong grip securing them down. he cracks a cocky smile at your body language, eyeing you up and down while he keeps your wrists crossed and pinned at your torso, both of your legs under one of his. You may say you haven’t given up, but your resolve is cracking. When you started hours ago, you were calm, and collected, and you could keep up with Gojo well enough, but now? Something shifted, and you seemed…nervous. 

Satoru Gojo was pretty sure he knew exactly what had made you so hot and bothered. He suspected it had something to do with the lingering touches throughout the night — when he had clasped both of your hands behind your back and bent you over his knee, when you pinned him down with your legs spread on either side of his waist, and probably most of all when he pulled your hair so you couldn’t escape him, putting you in the position you were currently in.

“Really? Sure looks like you are — wanna show me, or are you all bark and no bite?” Gojo grins, and when he does this, he’s close enough for you to see the amused squint of one of his eyes when he tilts his head to emphasize his point. It’s sheer maniacal joy at the expense of his precious shadow. You blink and suddenly he’s standing a good six feet away from you, and you’re lying on the floor like an idiot, starting to massage your wrists as you stand. 

You let the silence linger for a moment while you readjust your casual attire that’s starting to stick to your skin, and Gojo watches intently, his posture wide and taking up space in the small room.

“Why don’t you quit talking and find out?” You rasp out and anyone who walked by would assume you hadn’t spoken in weeks based on the gravelly delivery of your words, but no one would be walking by as it was just the two of you who were crazy enough to train at this hour. 

Gojo’s face lit up in delight, and he stepped closer, “Are you taunting me? That's exciting.” You saw him for only a moment and had no time to react before your hands were held tightly behind your back and his large frame was pressing hard against your back, his warm breath fanning over your neck and making your hair prick up. 

“You've got this, come on.” This time, Gojo’s not trying to provoke you, instead he aims to teach and encourage you — however, when sparring with someone like him, any motivation feels like mockery. 

You twisted against him and pulled his arm over your back, flipping him over you, but he grabbed onto your arm in the fall and brought you down with him. You’re face to face once more, those wild blue eyes squinted in a smile like this is just mere child’s play. You know what needs to happen, what Gojo’s been expecting this entire time. 

You clap your hands together, fingers interlocking in patterns only you know,

“Mirror technique: reflective chamber.”

And a visible wave of cursed energy flows over Gojo, blue rippling waves cascading down his form. Now, anything Gojo deals to you, he deals to himself also. For a moment, you both just huff and glare at each other, trying to catch your breaths through the summer night’s air. He scoffs and then laughs, but it’s a little different than the others of the night. Gojo’s laughing in excitement,

“Oh!” His tone fluctuates mockingly, “Don’t know if I should be congratulating you for finally figuring this out or if I should be worried! What do you think, hm? Should I be scared?-“

“I think you should quit this mind game you keep playing, I know what you’re trying to do — now come at me.” You sneer. Typically, you’re not this brash with Gojo, but the combination of the lack of sleep and his antics is starting to wear on your moral compass. Besides, you know he can handle it, having put up with your attitude throughout highschool. Satoru has always made it his goal to crack your shell and get a feel of your soft side, and he couldn't think of a better opportunity than these intimate late nights together,  

“If you wish.” Gojo smirks, eyeing you with fake concern before coming at you and landing a kick to your ankles that sweeps you right off your feet. You both know you let it happen out of sheer curiosity, and you barely notice the pain because you’re carefully watching Gojo’s expression as you fall, praying to see a change. You catch on quickly and grunt as your tailbone hits the floor,

“What the hell?” You groan, realizing that Gojo’s infinity prevents your technique from having any effects on him,

“Gojo, make this a real fucking fight, and stop using your infinity shit!” You hiss at the man who’s standing above you now, and when you go to grab at his ankle your whole body stills from his technique. You struggle and he watches with amusement before he deactivates it to watch you fall forward like a fool tugging on a rubber band, wounding themselves from the released elastic.

“Ah, alright, alright, I’ll humor you. but just this once, ‘kay?” Satoru’s silk voice comes from behind you as you pant on all fours, turning to face him as he slowly walks closer. 

You’re a little taken aback at the sight of Gojo dropping to his knees in front of you. It’s slow and cautious, unlike anything he’s done in your training, and you feel your whole face starting to burn as he puts his hands up defensively while coming closer — with anger or embarrassment you’re not quite sure, but it makes you feel like a lab rat rather than a human being, especially with the way his height cages you in,

“Gojo-“

“Ah-ah-ah! You wanted to practice your technique, correct? well,” He moves until your knees are at his chest, and even though his infinity isn’t activated, you feel as though you can’t move. 

“Let’s practice…” Satoru looks down at your arms that you’re using to prop yourself up, and you don’t follow his gaze, instead, you’re distracted by his long eyelashes and the small amounts of sweat that cling to his face, and how this close, for this long, you can smell him, and fuck, he smells sweet. Delicious even — you feel like you could take a bite out of him. Amid your thinking, you’re cut off by a slender finger tracing down your arm and forcing you to meet his gaze at the point of contact,

Gojo hums, one hand up to his chin, fingers gently rubbing and eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and his other hand steadily traces up and down your forearm, his ocean eyes watch as your skin pricks up and reacts to the touch, his skin following soon after.

“Hmm…it’s faint, but I can feel it too.” He gently hums. His demeanor is so relaxed it’s almost got you in a trance, lost in the moment completely. The wind whistles through the trees, the moon glows into the room through the open door, and your mentor, Satoru Gojo, is practically on top of you just tracing your skin.

You feel a sudden sharp pinch on your wrist, and you suck in a quick breath, tugging away from Gojo before his hand seizes you in place, long fingers grappling onto you.

Gojo’s own eyes twitch momentarily from the small sting, but he cracks a grin, 

“So sensitive — that was nothing!” Satoru taunts you, but there isn’t much malice behind it. You watch him with steady eyes, looking down at the small red mark that he now gently runs his thumb over. What an absurd place to be in. You have no idea how you got here and you have no training that’s prepared you for what’s happening right now.

What the hell is going through his mind?

Frankly, Satoru couldn’t answer that question himself. One moment you’re sparring and the next, you’re catching your breath under him while he plays with your reflective technique. He felt this rush in his blood, but he wasn’t sure if it was from your power or his own wild feelings. All he knew was that he wanted to touch you, and this ability of yours made things just so much more exciting. To touch you, and to feel not just his touch mirrored on his skin, but also the way your body reacts to it is something he can’t imagine not indulging in. 

Gojo looks up at you, and his heart forgets its function when he sees you’re already looking at him. It’s almost painful, feeling not only the jump of his own nerves but yours too, and he lets out a small groan from the feeling, 

“This is quite the technique you’ve got…” Gojo thinks aloud, swallowing his arousal and trying to keep calm and collected. This situation makes him feel like a horny teenager again; Gojo’s barely even touched you and yet he can’t ignore the twitching in his pants. He can’t handle the confused look you’re giving him, either. Who knew all he had to do was manhandle you and touch your bare skin to flip your switch? You’re suddenly so shy, and visibly nervous, but above all, he can sense a strong, carnal, need, just burning you up — can feel it every time you get chills or butterflies, and he wants to laugh at how frequently that is.

It’s a heightened sense of being alive that Satoru has never experienced, and he can’t risk messing up.

Not now.

He huffs, running a hand through his hair and letting a laugh out to try and alleviate some of the tension he built up. You look up at him, and he holds eye contact as his hands abandon your arm to slide up your ankles and onto the backs of your knees, a shiver racing up your spine from it. Gojo tilts his head and catches his lower lip in his teeth as he presses, spreading your legs. The movement makes you realize how sweaty you’ve become, the chill but humid breeze gently rushing in to cool your sweat to your skin and rouse the tall man’s hair. He looks like a cat of sorts, eyes fixed wide as he analyzes your reactions, and your body feels like it’s on fire under his cruel gaze. You struggle for words in the silent moment, but at last, they come to you,

“You don’t look so good, Satoru…I’m starting to think you’re the one who was all bark and no bi-“ You don’t get to finish your bratty sentence, instead, a small gasp leaves you and your hands rush to meet the back of Gojo’s neck after he moved his grip to your waist to gain the leverage to grind his throbbing dick against the heat in between your legs.

Oh. 

Oh, fuck.

Your clit throbs under your now tight pants, and that feeling, the dangerous one Gojo’s giving to you, affects him as well. Satoru’s cock jumps, and when it’s up against your cunt like this you’re both forced to crave the feeling again. 

Gojo looks down at you and he nearly cums in his pants at the sight. Your eyes are locked on his, your hair is sticking to your sweaty skin, your breaths are flowing quickly, quiet little moans and hums, and your loose shirt has exposed your gorgeous neck. Satoru finds that he can’t look away — that spot, that untouched area, it’s beckoning him. 

Satoru’s head moves before his eyes do to make eye contact with you as one of his hands comes to the back of your head, cradling it in his large palm, while his other hand trails up your arm, and his fingers intertwine with yours. He feels the pulsing heartbeat sensation of your arousal and he’s doing everything in his power to not fuck you like a rabid animal.  

“Gojo…” Your voice centers him, and his eyes focus on you, 

“Are we really doing this?” You whisper like you’re completely innocent, yet your legs wrap around his back, pulling him impossibly closer. Satoru’s eyes go wide, capturing you like a prisoner of his gaze, and when he looks down at you he can feel the thrashing of your heart against your rib cage. He considers your position, and he knows you both understand that this position isn’t…appropriate for two jujutsu sorcerers. If he keeps touching you like this, your dynamic will be forever changed. 

“Only if it’s what you want…do you want this?“ Satoru asks you with a tilt of his head, and with the way his neon eyes glow under the shadows of his hair, you can’t imagine a single soul who would deny themselves of this euphoria,

You nod, but that isn’t enough for him. Gojo starts to pull away,

“Words.”

“Yes!” You whisper-yell frantically, your hands chasing after him and finding themselves taking purchase around his head — one slipped into his silky hair and the other rested at the base of his neck, gently bouncing from his pulse,

“I need you,” You groan, “And if you stop now I swear I’ll kill you.” You punctuate every syllable, hammering in that you meant it, and the words hit Gojo square in his face, they sweep their way through his blood, and they stroke his dick just the way he likes it. 

“…Fuck…” Gojo moans. He was going to make sure you remembered those words. 

In that instant, his eyes lock onto your neck again, and he dips down to indulge in you. You catch the moment his eyelids flutter closed and then…then you feel him. 

Satoru’s nose and lips brush messily against your skin as he breathes you in, groaning against your neck and the sensation of it, fuck, the sensation makes your back arch off of the ground. His hair tickles, and his teeth ghost over your skin, tempting you just as much as he tempts himself,

“Fuck, you like this, huh? I can feel everything…the sensation’s grown from dull to just searing.” Gojo whines and the gravel in his voice makes you clench up down there, his warm breath on your neck causing the throbbing in your clit, which you now know he feels.

“Everything?” You whisper against his hair.

“Everything.” He grinds against you, and he finally sinks his teeth into your sweet skin. The moan that tears from your throat makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. One of his hands cradles the back of your head and holds it firmly, and the other meets your raised lower back, slipping under your shirt to grip at your skin. He can feel the impression of his bites against his own neck, and it’s irresistibly overwhelming.

You feel like you’re on cloud nine. Your eyes fight to stay open and your hips buck absentmindedly as Satoru’s tongue laps across the side of your neck. He’s humming and moaning in satisfaction, and it’s so perverse you could cry. He’s sucking and biting all over your neck, and the thought of having discolored marks in the shape of Satoru Gojo’s desire all over you in a matter of hours has you seeing stars. The groans he lets out right into your ear have you grinding against him hard, and he wants to give you some satisfaction, so Satoru moves one of his legs right in between yours, his thigh right up against your clit, and oh, god.

“Ah! Gojo!” You cry out, and he softly sinks his teeth into your neck, almost growling, 

“Satoru,” he whispers against your ear with his lips grazing your skin so gently,

“Call me Satoru when I touch you like this, doll.” He purrs, leaving one more wet kiss against your skin before pulling away from your neck to admire his work. You, sprawled out and needy with wet skin and soon-to-be hickeys,

“Wow. You look an absolute mess.” He smiles, and rubs his knuckles over the many bite marks he left,

“You’re one to talk…” You whine, squinting from the way your nerves are reacting to his every touch,

“You’re covered too.” You reach out and Satoru humors you for a moment, watching you with cautious eyes in preparation for whatever moves you may have up your sleeve when your hand dips down to the bottom of his loose black shirt, starting to tug on it. He catches your hand in one of his and reacts quicker than you could ever dream of, tearing your shirt down the middle with his free hand as a wide smile coats his face. The gasp that leaves you is too loud and too erotic for comfort, and Gojo presses his palm over your lips with his eyes blown wide,

“Shhh, shhh! You wouldn’t want someone to come in and see you like this now, would you? Stay quiet, you little brat.” He spits the name out to get under your skin, and he eats up your facial expression.

Oh, you could just hit him, but you’re more concerned with the way your nipples are hardening right now. It’s not cold enough for them to perk up from the air, and you and Gojo both know that, explaining his smugness. 

“How hard are they to be poking through your bra like this?” He rubs his chin in mock concern, and his harsh gaze is seemingly making them grow even tenser. 

You bring your hands up to cover yourself and Satoru moves them.

“I had no idea I got you that hot and bothered!” He lies through a shit-eating-grin and pulls his blindfold out from his sweatpants pockets, and the unspoken acknowledgment of what he plans to use it for makes your heart drop, and Gojo feels it all — fuck does that stroke his ego,

“Shit baby, I’m learning so much about you right now — correct me if I’m wrong, but your body’s telling me you just love being controlled like this.” Satoru brings the smooth slip up to your face, dragging it over your cheek and feeling the burn of your heated face against his knuckles,

“The element of surprise gets you so wet-“

“God!” you whine dangerously loud and slap the blindfold from his hands, flinging it above your head.

“You’re dragging this out on purpose! just-just, fuck me please…” Your voice trails off and your sentence becomes nearly unintelligible at the end, clouded by your pride. the only reason he heard you was because he was close enough to practically breathe your words in, but you didn’t have to know that,

“Didn’t catch that baby, wanna repeat yourself?”

“Like hell, you didn’t-”

“Honest, babe! Repeat it for me.”

“…Fuck me.” You whisper.

“Hm?” He leans in even closer,

You just couldn’t believe you were begging for Satoru Gojo’s dick against the floor of a lamp-lit training room in the middle of the night. This was doomed from the start.

“Fuck me.” You grit out, tensing against your restraints.

“Begging looks so good on you, y’know,” Gojo whispers, lips ghosting over your own,

“Shut up, Toru.”

“Why don't you make me?”

And finally, you get to taste that cocky bitch against your tongue. Your lips meet, and you skip the formalities, mixing spit and groaning into each other’s mouths in the most uncouth manner. You’re fucking frenching Satoru and it’s so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s noisy, whining against you and grinding his dick down as if it’ll somehow slip in. There’s a million bratty things you could say, but the power dynamic of someone overpowering you like this is a guilty pleasure you’re willing to indulge in because Satoru Gojo makes you feel so fucking good. His lips work well with yours, and you start to feel as though he’s trying to eat you alive. He deepens the kiss, causing your eyes to roll behind your closed eyelids. Your eyelids flutter open for a moment, and the sight you’re met with looks crafted by divine hands.

Gojo’s beautiful blue eyes bore into yours and hold you prisoner. Your breath hitches, and he roughly grabs your hands, sliding them up above your head and pinning them with one of his much larger ones, all while holding eye contact. What a fucking man.

He breaks the kiss with a grunt and the blindfold has made its way back into his hands. Gojo goes to work on your wrists with the silk, fastening the knot in a matter of seconds while panting over you. Your heart rate is so high Gojo looks down at you with genuine concern, a large hand holding your shoulder,

“Too much?”

You gulp with your back arched and your mouth glossy from the previous events. You know you can’t lie to him in this position,

“No…” You mewl after forcing yourself to spit out the embarrassing acknowledgment that you’re enjoying being tied up. 

“Of course, it isn’t.” He chuckles, throwing his head back and raking his fingers through his hair,

“I mean, cantle to me when your pussy’s throbbing against my thigh.” He feels your burning embarrassment before seeing your attempt to make a smart-mouthed quip back at him and he beats you to it,

“It’s weird, I can feel the tension of being bound around my wrists, but unlike you, I can still move! It seems I’ve found a flaw in your technique, baby. Now, back to these…” Satoru looks below, eyes drifting to your chest to see your sports bra holding your breasts tight to your chest. There’s a valley of sweat gradually cooling in the breeze on your chest, and Gojo’s patience runs thin at the idea of what’s underneath.

“There’s…there’s no clasp…” You mumble, looking up at Gojo with what he can only describe as pleading eyes, begging him to do something about it. Who would he be if he didn’t oblige?

He grips the top of the bra and tears it down the middle like it’s a piece of lined paper. You gasp and Gojo looks at your face with pure shock,

“Please don’t tell me you’ll morn that thing — that may be the cheapest bra I’ve ever laid my eyes on!”

You scoff,

“What the hell? Do you think I was going to wear lingerie to spar with you?” You spit out from pure self-consciousness, and Gojo’s face lights up,

“Oh quit your whining. I’ll buy you a new one, yeah? Maybe a few, as long as I get to take them off you later.” After getting the satisfaction of your bashful face, Satoru returns his attention to your now naked chest and feels his saliva pooling. 

He simply takes it in for a moment, leaving you wildly nervous. Does he like them? After a while, he uses his left hand to palm your right breast, kneading it, squeezing it, and brushing his thumb over your nipple just to feel the way it lights your nerves up. It’s so fascinating to him how sensitive your smaller body is, and how he would have never known if it wasn’t for tonight. The way making eye contact with him stalls your heartbeats, the way his breath against your ear can make an entire side of your body burn alive with a tingling sensation, and now, his cold fingers against your warm chest and the way its effects spread through your entire nervous system — it’s art.

Gojo knows you’d never admit how good it feels, and even if you did it would never paint the picture as clearly as him just feeling it like this. 

He looks up at you through sex-crazed, half-lidded eyes, and his words drag with lust,

“I need you to keep very quiet, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?” He whispers. Gojo’s left hand continues to palm one of your tits, while his other hand reaches to play with your hair and holds your head to maintain eye contact.

“Y-Yes, yes.” The words come out strangled from the sensations, and you barely register what’s been asked of you, only knowing you don’t want any of this to stop and you’ll do whatever he wants.

Suddenly, his fingers clamp down on your nipple, squeezing for a quick second before sweet release. 

“Ah! Ahh, fuck!” You choke, writhing and groaning. Who knew Satoru Gojo was such a fucking sadist? And, god, who knew you were such a masochist? Though the sensation confused him biologically, Gojo could somehow feel you getting wetter and wetter down there. You were so sensitive he questioned if you were a virgin,

“Fuck, how long has it been since anyone’s seen you this way, pretty girl? Has anyone ever?” He teases, flicking your nipple, and deciding he shouldn’t neglect your left tit for much longer, divvying up his attention with both of his hands. Now, he leans down and captures one in his mouth and you swear you could cum in that very instant. His warm, soft, tongue laps at your nipple like a cat drinks milk, and he looks up at you the entire time. 

“Satoru, o-oh my god, Toru, please!” Your voice cracks in arousal and your head spins from the pleasure. He moans against your skin, and when he feels the vibrations of it, and the sensation of being tasted like this mirrored on his skin, he thanks his lucky stars for your technique. Satoru’s cock throbs painfully, cramped in his sweatpants as he kneels on top of you like this, but he’ll deal with it later. Through his daze, Gojo suddenly becomes aware you’re calling for him,

“—Satoru!”

He pops off of your nipple, 

“Yeah, baby?”

“I want you to eat me…please, Toru, I can’t take it anymore...wanna see your pretty face down there.” You pleaded through pained whispers. The words would have embarrassed you if you hadn’t been working up the courage to externalize them for so long. Now all they did was make you impossibly hornier, and Gojo could tell. 

You didn’t have to ask him twice. 

He shifted down, and the sight of him so close to your pussy made you overthink your request, but the need was too strong for you to be self-conscious now. The view made your knees spread further, making space for the man — Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer the world has known, on his knees just dying to get his mouth on your cunt. You could’ve sworn he was drooling. His hands worked like lighting on your sweatpants before he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear before he looked up at you, making eye contact while yanking them down agonizingly slowly. As he breathes out his nose, the hot air fans over your sweat-slicked skin. 

You kick gently to aid him in removing your clothes, and now you’re fully naked for him. It felt a little unfair that he was seeing you so vulnerable, and the most you had seen all night was a glimpse of his chest down his shirt as he tied your hands together. 

“F-fuck…” 

Satoru’s cursing brings you back to reality, and you can’t help it when you instinctively close your legs. He rushes forward,

“No, no, none of that. Let me see you.” Gojo’s hands rest on your knees and he rubs his thumbs over your skin. You clench your teeth in apprehension, worried he might not like what he sees, but you decide you’ve already come this far, and you can’t get in your own way any longer, so you oblige and slowly spread your legs open for him. 

It’s hypnotic, Satoru thinks, the way your body just beckons him and he craves you like a moth to a flame. His large hands grip your waist and crawl up your back, lifting you and making you let out a small yelp. Satoru’s large hands grip you, and with his sheer strength alone he pulls you up so you’re sitting on top of him and he’s laying back, your bound hands resting right over your cunt. You felt so exposed, but the position was new and exciting. And then it dawned on you,

“W-wait-“

Satoru looks up at you innocently, his hands kneading your hips. The way his hair falls around his face, exposing his forehead, the crazed look in his eyes, and the way his hands twitch atop your skin — you try to etch it into your memory forever. 

“Trust me, yeah?” And then Gojo moves.

He brings you to his mouth and presses a hot, open-mouthed, kiss to your closed lower lips. You let out a shaky breath, watching him. With your hands bound, you struggle to keep yourself upright, when you decide to tangle your hands in his hair and hold on. The groan he releases shocks you, and it goes straight to your twitching clit. Gojo uses his large hands to spread your legs and almost immediately buries his face against your pussy. You watch as his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the warm wetness of his saliva, paired with his stiff and skilled tongue has you melting,

“Hah- ah- ohh, fuck! Toru, Toru…” you moan and cry, hips bucking against his face. Every time you do so, your clit smashes against his nose, and you chase the feeling he’s so eagerly giving you. gojo eats you like he’s gone rabid, sucking you like a hard candy. His hands find their way to your ass, holding you steady while he makes out with your cunt, slurping in the most obscene ways — it’s enough to make you question if your face is on fire. You look outside for a brief moment and remember that if anyone just happened to be awake at the moment, you’d surely both be in trouble beyond your comprehension. The thought has you tensing up, and Gojo feels it too. He murmurs against your pussy,

“Hey, eyes on me.” 

Without a second wasted, you look back down, and the face you’re met with has you on the very brink of orgasm. Gojo’s eyebrows are pinched together in a needy way, and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, eating you alive. You grind against him, slotted against his face like a puzzle piece. His sinful tongue laps at your clit with precision, and just like that Satoru knows he’s got you in checkmate. He sucks hard, moaning the way you like, and due to your technique, Gojo knows you’re close. In the next breath,

“Wh-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

Satoru’s removed his face from your pussy, and strings of saliva connect it to his open mouth. His expression makes it look like he’s the one who just got eaten out, reminding you that he’s feeling everything you’re feeling right now.

“You were about to cum, right? I’ve never felt like that before, it was this swelling that just gradually got more and more intense — you didn’t cum, but you were so close.” 

“Yes, I was…I was right there, so why did you stop?” You sneer through clenched teeth, using your leverage in Gojo’s hair to pull his head back, causing him to hiss and moan from the pain. 

Your heart freezes over from the wild glint in his eyes.

“Oh, you brat.” He grins,

Gojo holds eye contact while he reaches up, tearing the blindfold around your wrist in half and detangling your hands from his hair. He aids you to the floor as he gets up, keeping you on your knees,

“Why?” He refrains, standing in front of you, 

You watch in awe as he slips his black shirt off of his head, jaw going slack while you behold the sight of his chiseled form. You barely have the time to process him as his pants follow suit, and his dick, which looks unbearably hard, springs up once freed from its confines. Satoru’s hand wraps around the base, giving slow but rough strokes with his head thrown back. He looks down at you through white lashes,

“Because I want to feel you cum like that when it’s on my dick.” 

As he finishes his sentence, his tip spurts a little precum, and you flinch as it lands on your face, he moves too quickly for you to react, and before you know it, Gojo’s pulling you onto back with a firm grip around your ankle, before flipping you onto your stomach. You moan loudly, and Gojo’s hand comes up to your lips, palm pressing down as he pulls your back smoothly against his chest, positioning you like a rag doll.

“Shit, you just love being manhandled. I never would’ve guessed all this perversion from my mouthiest shadow. You just want to be used like a fuck toy, hm?” Gojo whispers in your ear, hand moving from your mouth to your neck,

You pant, eyes fluttering in need, desperately seeking his touch with your arching and moans,

“I guess the cat’s out the bag” You grunt, smaller hands reaching up to rest on top of his large fingers that rest around your throat. 

“Put it in, god damnit, I can’t wait much longer.” You drag out your words in desperation.

“Alright, alright,” He whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You feel his tip slide up and down your slit, and he slaps it against you a few times before lining it up. He whispers after a shaky breath,

“Try to stay quiet for me, baby.” 

A long, broken mewl tears from your throat as he slides his dick in up to the base. You struggle to keep quiet more than you thought you would, and Gojo’s hand tightens around your throat. However, you’re not the only one struggling,

“F-fuck, fuck-” Gojo almost cries the string of curses in your ear, and you remember what he’s feeling. Your mouth waters at the realization that Satoru is simultaneously feeling his dick inside you, and himself. Gojo’s eyebrows twitch and his knees weaken, but he keeps his composure,

“How you feeling, Toru?”

You both whine as he fucks up into you slowly, trying to test the feeling. He thrusts with purpose, and each time he bottoms out you see stars. So this is what Gojo’s cock feels like. He laughs cooly, clearing his throat,

“I had a feeling my dick was the best one out there, but now I’m positive.” And Satoru thrusts back in harder, making you jump and yelp. He groans into your ear, and you’d clap back if you weren’t busy wailing from the sudden increase in speed and depth of his thrusts, the sound of wet skin slapping making your ears run hot,

“Ah! Ah! I can’t! I’m- ngh!- I can’t!” You tremble in your mentor’s hold, flailing from the pleasure and the impact of his body against yours. 

“Yeah, you can. Shit, fuck!- take it, take it all.”

His dick is hammering in and out of you and building up a sudden unfamiliar pressure,

“Satoru-“

“I know, I know, doll.” His voice cracks as he moans, “This greedy pussy’s just too sensitive, gonna squirt already. You’re gonna give me all of it, right baby? Can you be good and do that for me?” The hand around your neck trails up and pulls your hair back, Satoru’s lips now against your neck as he fucks you like an animal and his voice tilts hypnotically, echoing in your skull,

“Yeah, I know you can, dirty girl. Come on, cum for me.”

It doesn’t take much long after Gojo’s lewd speech for you to soak his dick. His speed keeps up, causing an endless flow of warm squirt that trails down his thighs and yours and drips onto the cold floor. You moan like you can’t breathe, and for a prolonged amount of time, you genuinely can’t. The initial feeling of squirting so much and so soon has you just about astral projecting, and Gojo’s struggling to keep himself from doubling over from the amplified pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby, look at the mess you’ve made.” 

One of Satoru’s toned arms wraps around your middle to support you as the other arm extends to the puddle below, coating his fingers and examining them in the lamp-light. 

You frown at the unashamed perversion of it, watching his hand right in front of your face. 

“Open up,” Demands Satoru, and you’re not sure why, but you do — almost no hesitation.

He laughs, and it gently shakes your body along with his,

“Atta girl! Oh, you’re so damn obedient like this, and all for me. You naughty girl, so dirty.“ He rasps, all kinds of amused with this unusual behavior from you. He slips his middle and index fingers into your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You swirl your tongue around his uncomfortably long fingers, eyes rolling back and sweaty skin sticking to his as you both breathe heavily. 

Gojo removes his fingers from your mouth before maneuvering you with a large palm on your lower back. He presses you down, your cheek against the floor and your ass in the air with an arm crossed over your back, held in place by his hand. He had you completely powerless, and the feeling in your gut from the revelation made you feel like a whore. His whore.

“Fuck, this pussy just loves me — mmh- sucking me in so fucking good.” Gojo dirty talks, his hips ramming against your ass like a machine as the sounds of sex bounce off of the walls. He was right about that; you were seemingly dripping for him non-stop. There was truly no need for lube when your partner was this good at turning you on. You had never acted this slutty a day in your life. The arch, the deep and guttural moans, the way you lean back to meet him with each thrust, it was deplorable, but somehow Gojo brought it out of you without a second thought,

“She does, doesn't she? I need to hear you say it, babe.” Gojos hands rest on both of your cheeks, pulling you against him and sheathing himself fully inside you for deeper thrusts. You cry out and quickly bite your lip to conceal it, shuddering breaths coming out of your nose,

“Y-yes…yes…loves you!” All you can do is pant through quick responses. You can’t keep up with him. How could he possibly have this much stamina after sparring with you for hours? It’s non-stop — the drag of his long, hard, dick in your soaking cunt, pulsing inside you and filling you up so deliciously.

Gojo can’t bite back his smile, and he can’t keep his eyes off of you. You; cocky, mouthy, bratty, little you, bent over taking his dick and just savoring every inch. He fucks you harder, if that was even possible, and opts to no longer silence you in favor of etching your every moan into his memory. They’re so fluid. Sometimes you whimper, and it’s high pitched, and it’s sickeningly submissive. Others are more hoarse, and pained, similar to the noises you made when you were sparring earlier. He loves every single sound.

“These filthy moans of yours are- ngh, so perfect, baby. Ah- I-I want more, need more.” Satoru pleads breathily, pulling out to hastily pick you up into his arms. Though he moves quickly, his grip on you is like a vice, never dreaming of dropping you. Still, you’re startled, holding onto him for dear life with your chin against his shoulder. He backs you up against the wall, right by the open door. 

You slam against it, hot and heavy, and the low-lidded look your mentor gives you has you gasping in need, your hands holding him roughly. Satoru doesn’t wait, instantly he meshes his lips against yours, groaning into you and he holds delirious eye contact while he slips himself back inside. You both feel the way your body reacts from the relief of Gojo’s length, moment while your eyes roll into the back of your heads. He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, the rhythm of his thrusts knocking you up, and down, and up, and down. The pleasure is too much, all-consuming, and overwhelming. It’s no surprise that you start to lose your strength to hold on, Gojo finding himself holding you to keep up his pace,

“F-fuck don’t tell me you’re- ngh- too weak already? You poor, pathetic, baby.” Satoru coos, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth hung for the endless stream of moans he can’t hold back,

“My cock feels that good, huh?” He rams into you faster, holding your waist and keeping you spread wide to take every inch. You gasp, and your nails claw at his back. Satoru grunts like the masochist he is from the feeling,

“Oh-oh my god, oh my god, oh my god- Ah!- Faster, faster, Satoru, faster!” The pace he’s set is unreal, and your hands can’t find purchase anywhere. You drag them down his back until it’s raw, slam them against the wall behind you, and at last, you dig them into his soft hair. His dick hits every tingling nerve inside you, and every time you’re able to make eye contact with him he’s already staring you down like prey, making your insides clench. 

“Satoru, m’gonna cum!” An airy yelp follows your warning, and Gojo smiles sinisterly, his pace unrelenting,

“I know, can feel it.” And he’s telling the truth. As you’ve gradually gotten closer, your technique has become stronger and stronger, nearly giving Gojo a hard time staying on his feet. With each thrust he feels your every nerve alive with need, begging him, screaming out to him, don’t stop.

He stills like a bullet train suddenly slamming to a stop. You snap out of your daze, looking at him with agony and hanging on to whatever explanation he has for you,

“Say my name.” 

Your head lolls back as a bratty groan rips from your throat. 

“Huh?” 

Gojo seizes your chin, making you face him. His eyes are blown wide with lust and he looks like he’s run a marathon from the sheer pain and struggle smeared all over his face. He thrusts his hips up into you, pushing you up the wall. The pressure inside your cunt makes you wince and your eyes roll back,

“F-fuck!”

“Say my name.”

“…Satoru.” 

He pulls out completely and slams deep inside, eyes trained on your pretty face to watch you come apart. You’re such a good pet for him, learning so quickly,

“Good girl, now was that so hard?” Gojo huffs in degrading annoyance. When you think this little game is over, he groans,

“Again.”

“Satoru- Agh!-“ 

“Don’t stop doll, who’s fucking you like this?” His thrusts pick back up,

“You, Satoru! S- Ah!- Satoru! Satoru!” You wail as he pounds you to a pulp against the wall. 

Gojo feels his dick pulsing inside you, his blood rushing like a stampede inside him. 

“Damn right.” He moans, grabbing your waist and suspending your limp body in the air to fuck you like you weigh nothing. You gasp and claw at him, and he nods feverishly, 

“Toru!”

“I know- hah- I know, doll. Come on, cum for me.” 

It’s like jumping off a cliff into the ocean or watching fireworks burst, or finishing a race. Your whole body buzzes with the fluttering feeling of the orgasm Satoru Gojo grants you so generously, and you gasp for a spare breath in the warm air that sticks to itself. Your whole body tingles like static, and your muscles tense as you come down. You’ve almost forgotten about the sight outside your eyelids, opening your eyes to watch Gojo come undone. 

He moans weakly, and it’s enough to make your clit twitch. His thrusts grow desperate and needy, and his grip on you tightens. Satoru’s dick feels warm and alive inside you, and your chest fills with racing butterflies as he suddenly pulls you close, arms encircling you when he cums deep inside. His body is pressed right up against yours, his dick fully inside you just filling you up, and his heart beats hard enough for you to feel it against your chest. It’s desperate, and it’s intimate. His breaths fan over your shoulder and he gulps, hands sliding over your sweaty skin to pull out and gently set you down. You can’t sit up, flopping down and curling in on yourself, breathing hard and heavy with your cheek pressed against the floor. 

“Hold on, sweetheart, hold on.” He rasps. Satoru retrieves his shirt from the floor and walks over to you, spreading your legs and wiping at the release that costs your inner thighs. He presses a soft kiss to your inner thing that makes you suck in a breath and shiver, your hands seeking him out. You must have finally turned off your technique, too worn out to keep it up, because he could no longer feel your nerves. Gojo knew it wouldn’t be long for him to miss that intimacy. 

“Come here,” He hums in that deep melodic voice that makes you melt, and he holds your wrists to pull you closer. The feeling of his large hand cupping your head and holding you against his bare skin had your breaths evening out in no time, and you felt yourself slipping into a vulnerable place you’d never have pictured showing Satoru.

“You did so, so, so, good, baby.” He slurs his words,

“Nice to see all that endurance training’s paid off.” 

“I’m tired.” You murmur almost inaudibly, your words muffled from exhaustion. 

“I bet you are. Let’s go to bed, come on.” Gojo chuckles softly, bracing you against him as he stands, holding you to his strong and bare chest.

The glow of the moon vanishes outside your closed eyes and before you can think too hard about it you feel your head hit a soft silk pillowcase on Gojo’s bed. He holds a black shirt in his hand, lifting your arms to slip it over your head and scooping you up gently to pull it down your back. He’s so attentive you worry you’re dreaming, but you could never even dream of one’s touch feeling this heavenly. While slipping in and out of consciousness, you missed the part when he dressed himself lightly and crawled into his bed, keeping his distance from you.

As a child ponders their next move when a deer stills in their path, you hesitate to act in this silent moment where Satoru shares his bed with you but denies you the view of his face.

You stare at the dark outline of his back as he breathes slowly, his white hair falling gracefully against his pillow, and your heart aches in your chest. Eventually, you whisper and reach out to ghost your fingertips over his back,

“Satoru?” 

And he turns to face you, humming. His blue eyes are swirling in thought and he looks like he’s hung on your every word. But you have nothing to say to him, only reaching for his hand and pulling him close, slotting yourself against him without a care for what it means. Satoru feels an invisible weight lift from his shoulders and wonders if you’ve freed him from some curse. As he looks down at you, he sighs and nuzzles his chin atop your head, allowing himself this moment. 

Satoru decides to hold you tonight.

-

[luveline]

JADEEEE i'd love to see an interaction between hotch and teacher!reader outside of school? maybe jack sees her first and step away from hotch for a moment to say hi, hotch gets scared when he realizes jack left but reader comes with him just a moment later because she's panicking too like 'why are you alone? where's your dad?' and jack takes her to him. is that ok??? i hope so! love you <3333

I love you ty for your request! —Hotch flirts with Jack’s favourite teacher, because he’s never as subtle as he should be. fem, 2k

Jack reads a couple of books a week now his dad is home more often. His mom used to read to him some because he loves them, but she preferred to tell her own on the fly. His dad isn’t as good a story teller, and when he does try the stories don’t end up very happy, so they read. Sometimes two or three books a night if they're short ones. 

With Jack’s library card they can borrow ten books. With his dad’s, another ten. Twenty altogether, enough to last the month if they’re careful or if dad gets called away a lot, which he usually does. 

“Can I look for Super Pup?” Jack asks his dad. 

Aaron sits on a chair a little too small for him in the kids section. “What?” he asks, looking up from the back of the large picture book Jack’s just handed him. 

“Super Pup?” 

“I’ll help, buddy.” Hotch looks like he’s going to stand, then hesitates. “In a second. Don’t go where I can’t see you, Jackers.” 

Hotch is tired. He didn’t come home until very late, but he’d woken Aunt Jess anyway and, when Jack woke, there his dad was sleeping in the beanbag by his bed. He’s sore all over now and exhausted from a restless night. Jack feels sorry, as much as he can for being six nearly seven, but he also knows that his dad doesn’t mind the hurting. It was nice to wake up together after a few days apart. 

And now he’s brought him to the library, and after that they’ll go for groceries. Jack should be quick. If they get home before dinner time his dad will ask him if he wants to nap together, which is the best. They just lay there in the big bed with the fan on and snooze until it’s too late to cook, so his dad breaks out the takeout menus, and promises he won’t do it again with a quick hug from behind. 

As though it makes him a terrible parent for feeding his kid. Jack can’t know how guilty it makes Hotch feel to do it, and Hotch doesn’t seem to notice how much Jack loves these days where his dad is exhausted and totally his. 

Jack runs around looking for Super Pup. Hotch’s phone beeps in his pocket, and he fights to keep his eyes open.

A ways away, you browse the fiction section in a crouch, knees somehow totally under your skirt, flicking aside spines of skinny books for something you can read at lunch time. Something that doesn’t require much attention, and could be read in short intervals. You used to demand a half hour to yourself when you first started teaching, but that was before the lonely kids started cropping up. Kids with no friends, or sad smiles, who want company and quiet alike. 

You reach for a pink-spined Japanese translation as a little hand pats your elbow. You’re so used to kids you say, “What’s up?” before you remember you aren’t at work. 

You turn in your crouch to look behind you. “Oh, hi, Jack! What are you doing here?” 

“Me and dad are looking for books.” 

You smile at him genuinely, happy to see your favourite student, even if you’re terrified on the inside at the prospect of his father. He’s the most gentlemanly man you’ve ever met. He’s arduous in how respectful he is, he’s understanding, and he’s tall, dark, and handsome. It is a chilling collection of traits. You stumble whenever you have to talk to him. 

But Jack is easy. You and Jack talk every day. “What sorts of books? Just for fun?” 

“I want to read Super Pup.” 

The kids love Super Pup and his magic bark. You stand promptly, suddenly much taller than Jack as you brush down your skirt. “Wait,” you say. Mr. Hotchner gets called away for work all the time, but he wouldn’t leave Jack alone, would he? “Where’s your dad? You’re not by yourself, are you?” 

Jack laughs. “No! I’m looking for Super Pup! Dad’s tired.” 

You can’t decipher exactly what those two things have to do with each other, but you can guess how panicked his dad will be to find Jack so far from the kid’s section. Fiction is the other side of the library. “How did you end up over here?” You offer your hand. “Should we go back and find your dad?” 

“I saw your skirt, Miss L/N. I like the flowers.”

He takes your hand, clumsy to your gentleness. “Thanks, honey. Let’s go find dad before he calls his scary friends and has your name on the news.” 

You get to the kids section slowly. Endearingly so, but nerve-wracking, too, because Mr. Hotchner can be intimidating. Jack likes holding your hand, you think, clinging to your fingers as he guides you across the library, past the staircase down to the first floor, and back to the kids section. 

“Jack?” Mr. Hotchner asks loudly, turned away from you both near the graphic novel selection. “Jack.” 

“Mr. Hotchner,” you say. 

“Dad!” 

He spins on his heel. His shoulders relax noticeably, but the stress in his gaze remains. 

“Jack, I said stay where I can see you,” he says, not half as scolding as he could be as Jack lets go of your hand and runs to his legs, where he stops. “Please, buddy. You gotta listen to me.” 

Jack turns between you and his dad with a smile, “But look, it’s Miss L/N.” 

“I can see,” he says softly. 

Mr. Hotchner leans down, taking Jack up into his arms with impressive ease, and begins the walk to you where you’ve stayed. 

“I hope he didn’t interrupt you,” he says. 

“Please,” you say, “he’s my favourite. Just–” You wince. “Don’t tell anybody at school I said that, Jack. Please.” 

“I think we can keep this secret,” Mr. Hotchner says. 

“He was just telling me that you’re looking for Super Pup. If you don’t find it, we have copies at the school library. And we can always order you one.” 

Mr. Hotchner gives you a small, and what you know to be rare, smile. “I don’t think he even looked.” 

“I did look!” Jack disagrees, though his disagreement barely has any attitude to it, a credit to his upbringing. 

“You clearly weren’t looking in the right place.” 

“I was too. How would you know, you were sleeping!” 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Mr. Hotchner says to you. 

You tuck your hands behind your back. “It’s okay, Mr. Hotchner, I believe you. In my classroom we like to say we’re resting our eyes.” 

“Aaron,” he says, as he says whenever you speak to each other, and as you always forget to call him. Not a demand but a suggestion you’d swear to be bordering affectionate. 

You’ve been Jack’s teacher for two months this year, and almost the entire year previously. In the summer when they leave, you’ll find out if you’re moving up a grade with him, but until then, you’ve made the most of such a nice kid, and you aren’t shy to tell that to Aaron. You don’t mind that Jack spends his lunch time with you. He embodies all of the reasons that pushed you to become a teacher in the first place. 

And his father is a good reason to stay. He’s one of the only nice (hot) dads. 

You do worry often that he can read your expression. His lips have quirked into a bemused smile, what’s so funny? He’s terrifying. 

“Aaron,” you rush to say, and fill the silence you’ve made, “It’s nice to see you.” 

“It’s nice to see you, too. You’ll see me on Monday, so you’ll be sick of me by Tuesday.” 

You rock ever so gently on your heels. “You aren’t working.” 

“It’s Jack’s birthday.” 

You nod, pleased. “I know! I know, we already talked about what cupcakes he wants, didn’t we? Everybody’s gonna have rainbow sprinkle, and for a treat we’re going to watch a movie before lunch.” 

“Do you do that for every kid?” 

“I do.” 

“How do you afford it?” He lowers his gaze. “I just mean, it’s expensive to do that for every birthday.” 

“Luckily for me and unluckily for the kids, quite a few of them have birthdays outside of term time. Thirty students is three trays of ten, and that doesn’t usually break the bank, even if things get tight. But… I don’t know, I guess I just have to make room when it does. It’s special to feel special, and,” —you smile, exuberant and a little shy at once, clutching your elbow in your hand— “Jack always makes everybody else feel special. ” 

The boy in question turns into his fathers chest, pleased beyond words. 

Aaron gives you a long, long look. “Thank you,” he says. 

“Oh, you’re welcome.” 

You say goodbye to Aaron and Jack and wish them both a good weekend, which you spend wondering what the pressure of Aaron’s hand would be like on your shoulder, and if you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking about it at all. He seems like he’d give a good hug. You catch yourself picturing him opening a door and ban yourself from thinking of him at all. 

Monday morning, you stand at the door ushering your students inside, and you can’t help beaming when Jack and Aaron arrive. 

“Aw, Jack, where’s your birthday badge?” you ask, fall air nipping your nose. 

“He was feeling too shy,” Aaron says. He’s in casual dress again. Some men should be banned from half-zips, it’s inhumane. 

“You were?” You bend just a bit, hand in your pocket. “Well, I thought you might be, so I brought my badge from home. It’s super shiny, bud. What do you think?” 

You show Jack the badge, It’s My Birthday in silver against a rainbow backdrop. 

Maybe it was silly to bring, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t want to wear one, and maybe he should. He deserves for all his friends to give him some attention, and to have them fight over who gets to sit with him at lunch. 

“We have something for you,” Jack says. 

You stand straight. “You do?” 

Aaron hadn’t been expecting to be the one to give it to you, that much is obvious. He hesitates for a second before he passes you a small brown box, the top of which is made up of four leaves folded into a dome. You have an inkling of what it might me. 

“Thank you… Can I open it now?” you ask. 

“I think you should wait for lunch,” Aaron says. 

You raise your eyebrows but abide by his suggestion, murmuring another thank you as Aaron bends to give Jack a hug. “Have a good day. I’ll be here to pick you up, I promise,” he says.

It’s a great day. The kids are excited for cupcakes and overjoyed to get them before lunch. Not a crumb goes uneaten, and as they all sing for Jack with his borrowed badge, he’s actually happy for the attention. He doesn’t eat with you at lunch, which is a great thing even if you love his company. 

Alone, you fold back the leaves of your mysterious box and smile like an idiot when you confirm what’s inside. A cupcake slightly more sophisticated than rainbow sprinkle spreads icing across the brown carrier, and a business card leans against the other side. 

The front of the card is as you’d expected it to be spelling out Aaron’s contact details from work, and you combust thinking he wants you to call him, but it’s the back that you’d been meant to see. You read it as you fold down the leaves of the cupcake carrier, 

Thirty students, three trays of ten. What does that leave for you? —Aaron. 

Flirt, you think firmly, happily. He’s such a flirt. 

[saythenametotheworld]

Heartbreak Hotel | prologue.

“Every single day is dreadfully boring when working at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. That is until an enigmatic guest arrives, seeking not a room nor directions, but to hear stories about your past relationships.”

one | two | three | four | five

Genre: anthology, romance, smut Pairing: SEVENTEEN Hip-hop Unit x Reader Warnings: mature themes Notes: 2k words. 1 of 4 parts. Listening to Heartbreak Hotel by Tiffany Young. This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

“This place is the worst,” you muttered for what felt like the hundredth time today, releasing a long sigh. Complaining wouldn’t change anything, but it became a habit—one that had kept you going for the past six months. Every month, you swore you’d quit after getting your paycheck. And yet, here you were, still stuck at this hotel in the middle of nowhere.

No one asked you to take this job. In fact, your friends and family had tried to talk you out of it. But you’d accepted the promotion to concierge after four long years of work, eager for the new title, even if it meant moving away from everything you knew. At first, you thought the distance wouldn’t matter. A month in, you were already regretting it.

If it wasn’t for Elena—the 58-year-old branch manager who’d smugly told you that you’d quit like everyone else—you might’ve walked out weeks ago. But you had your pride, and leaving now would feel like admitting defeat.

Your eyes drifted to the tall grandfather clock in the hall, and you felt a small flicker of relief. Your shift was almost over. Though you didn’t have much to look forward to in your quarters—maybe a movie on your laptop or some mindless scrolling through your phone—anything was better than sitting in the dead silence of the lobby.

Another sigh escaped as you leaned your head into your hand, eyes drifting shut. Just as you started to relax, the sharp sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden counter made you jolt upright.

“Yes!” you stammered, straightening your posture as you met Elena’s stern gaze. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was just… resting.”

Elena’s disapproving sigh said it all. “You’ve got two more hours left in your shift. Get it together. Someone’s coming.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you replied, forcing a smile you didn’t feel.

As if on cue, the front doors swung open, and in walked a man in a sharp navy-blue suit. He glanced around, squinting slightly as he adjusted to the dim lighting of the lobby. The sun had just set, casting the room in shadows. Behind him, the bellboy followed with his luggage.

The man’s gaze fell on you so suddenly it caught you off guard. You quickly straightened up, flashing a polite smile. He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment as he approached the desk.

He placed a hand over the wooden counter, looking not at you but at your nameplate. When his gaze flitted back to you, he said your name with an inquiring tone.

“Yes, that’s me,” you replied, still smiling. “Would you like to book a room for the night, Mr…?”

“Choi Seungcheol,” he finished, his voice smooth but distant. “And no, I’m not here for a room. I’m here to ask how much it would cost to book your services for the evening.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Excuse me?” you managed, the words coming out sharper than you intended. You fought to keep your composure, waiting for him to explain himself.

“I apologize,” he said quickly, holding up a hand in a gesture of peace. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I can see why that sounded inappropriate.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a chance to clarify.

“This might sound unusual, but I’m in need of company for the evening,” he said carefully, as if searching for the right words.

You rolled your eyes, dropping any pretense of politeness. Crossing your arms, you responded coolly, “You’re in the wrong place, sir. We don’t offer that kind of service. But if you drive about half a mile north, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of places that do.”

“It’s not what you think,” he said, his tone steady but firm. He reached into his coat and pulled out a card, sliding it across the counter toward you. “I’m not asking for anything inappropriate. I just need someone to talk to. We wouldn’t be in a room—just here in the lobby, or perhaps the bar, if you prefer. And I’ll pay you by the hour. Just tell me the rate.”

You eyed the card but didn’t pick it up. “Why me? And what exactly do you want to talk about?”

“I’ll explain everything once you accept my offer,” he said, his eyes steady on yours.

“We’re done here,” you told him, pushing the card back to him. He was some CEO of a company you’d heard of but unfamiliar with.

“Fair enough,” Seungcheol replied, pocketing the card and pulling out a different one—this time, a credit card. “I’d like a suite please.”

You took the card, checking him in quietly. After handing him over to the bellboy, he left with a polite nod. “Thank you,” he said, his tone once again reserved, before disappearing down the hall.

The rest of your shift passed in a blur. After clocking out, you went to your quarters for a quick shower and a nap. When you woke, it was 9 p.m., and your stomach growled, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten.

You threw on a sweater and left your quarters, heading toward the employee pantry by the hotel restaurant. You ate with two other staff, talking quietly and laughing at some jokes.

“Here comes Leo!” said one of your coworkers, nodding at the pantry door where the hotel chef just walked in with a tray.

“Anyone in the mood for seafood pasta?” Leo grinned, setting the tray on the table.

“Cooking up the hotel’s stock again, Leo?” you teased lightly.

“Not at all,” he defended with a playful shrug. “A guest ordered some, so I made a little extra.”

You chuckled. “Right. Does Elena know?”

Leo waved his hands in mock horror. “I don’t do this all the time!”

“Relax, Leo. She’s just teasing,” another coworker said, laughing.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” you added, standing to clear your plate. “I’m heading back. Enjoy the pasta.”

“Leaving already? Sure you don’t want some?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied with a wave as you left.

The halls were quiet, as always, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only thing breaking the silence. As you made your way downstairs, you found yourself thinking about Seungcheol. His strange request lingered in your mind, replaying like a bad dream.

Why would a guy like him be asking for company? Doesn’t he have friends?

You shook your head, dismissing the thought. Just another eccentric rich guy who thought money could buy him anything. But even as you told yourself that, the way he'd said it kept bothering you. He hadn’t seemed sleazy or inappropriate. Polite, even. There was something else to it, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

When you reached the lobby, you paused at the sight of Seungcheol sitting on one of the plush armchairs near the large bay windows. He wasn't looking at his phone or a book. Instead, he stared out at the dimly lit hotel grounds, hands folded, deep in thought. His navy blue suit from earlier had been traded for a more relaxed outfit—a simple gray sweater and slacks. He looked different. Less intimidating. Maybe even…lonely?

You frowned, realizing you had slowed your pace to a near stop, watching him from the shadows. Should’ve gone to a therapist, not here, you thought, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

You were half tempted to just ignore him and go on with your night, but something kept you rooted to the spot. What does he even want to talk about that he’d pay a stranger for it?

Your thoughts drifted back to your earlier frustrations—six months stuck in this place, no real connection to anyone, no escape from the monotony. Maybe that was why his request bothered you so much. You had your own share of unspoken things too.

Before you could change your mind, you took a deep breath and approached him. Seungcheol must have sensed your presence because he glanced up just as you stepped into view. His expression shifted slightly—surprise, maybe?—but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to speak first.

“So,” you began, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “About your earlier request…”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, but his posture remained relaxed. “Yes?”

You shifted your weight, hesitating. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but what exactly do you want to talk about? You said it wasn’t anything inappropriate, so mind explaining it to me?”

He studied you for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. Then, with a slight nod, he gestured to the seat across from him. “I understand your hesitation. Please, sit.”

You hesitated for a moment before sitting down, making sure to leave some space between the two of you.

Seungcheol leaned forward slightly, folding his hands together. “It’s really quite simple,” he began, his tone calm and measured. “I need someone to talk to. Not just anyone, but someone who doesn’t know me, who has no preconceptions. I’ve found that… strangers have a way of seeing things differently. Offering perspectives you wouldn’t get from friends or family. I thought you might be that person.”

You frowned, trying to understand. “Why me, though? I’m just some hotel concierge.”

He smiled faintly. “That’s exactly why. You’re just a concierge of a faraway hotel. You’re disconnected from my life, from my world. You don’t have an agenda.”

His explanation made sense, in a way. “And what exactly do you want to talk about?”

Seungcheol paused, his eyes flickering with a hint of something deeper. “Relationships,” he said quietly. “Your past relationships, to be exact.”

You felt your body tense. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

He sighed softly, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately—about life, about love, about the choices we make. I’m not looking for answers, just… perspectives. I thought you might be able to offer that.”

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide if you should just walk away. But something about his sincerity, the way he spoke about it, made you pause. 

“Alright,” you said at last, feeling equally nervous and curious. “I’ll tell you. But I’ve got questions too.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened. “Ask away.”

You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair as you studied him. “What do you get out of this? Why go to all this trouble just to hear about someone else’s love life?”

He smiled slightly, though there was no humor in it. “Let’s just say I’m trying to understand something I can’t quite figure out. And sometimes, the best way to understand yourself is through someone else’s story.”

His words struck a chord with you, though you weren’t entirely sure why. You nodded slowly, still unsure where this conversation would lead but feeling oddly compelled to continue.

“Fine,” you said, exhaling. “I’ll bite. Where do you want me to start?”

Seungcheol leaned forward again, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Start with the one you think about the most.”

You tilted your head a little, thinking. You’d had your fair share of relationships, but when he said that, the first name that came to mind was…

You glanced back at him. What exactly did this guy want to hear? Why were you even considering sharing something so personal with a stranger? Yet there was something about his calm patience, the way he wasn’t pushing—just waiting—that made you want to say more.

“Will I be hearing opinions and judgments from you or are you just gonna sit and listen?” you questioned, suddenly hesitating at the thought of being judged by a stranger.

“Unless you ask for an opinion, I’m just gonna sit and listen.”

You hummed. “Alright then. Do you know someone called Kim Mingyu?” You hadn’t said that name out loud in a long time, but suddenly, there it was, slipping through your lips like it had never left.

Seungcheol shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Good, because he’s the kind of jerk who never knew what he wanted.”

To be continued in [Backburner]

[lvnleah]

Passing Shadows | Leah Williamson

Summary: You’re a nurse and your job gets a little too much so your fiancé, Leah, helps you do a different career.

Notes: this isn’t my favourite one-shot but it was too cute not to post. I also put a lot of work into it to scrap it <33

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your footsteps echoed through the dimly lit hospital corridor. The night shift had been gruelling, and your eyes drooped with exhaustion. You longed for the warmth of your bed, the soft embrace of your pillow and Leah’s arms. As you pushed open the heavy exit door, you knew that Leah’s day was just beginning whilst yours was ending.

You were a nurse down at the local hospital in the emergency room. You mostly worked night shifts, they began at 8pm and ended at 8am. You were always rushed off your feet, you never knew what each day was going to be like.

Whilst you were running around, sorting medicines and scans out for patients, Leah was at home sleeping. Your life’s were far from the same.

You’d been with Leah for six years now, engaged for one and were soon hoping to start the IVF process at some point in the following year. You met Leah when you were a student nurse, you were twenty and Leah was twenty-one when you met.

You and your friends from university had decided to go out one night and that's how you’d met Leah. You were both tipsy and ended up hooking up that night, the next morning you woke up tangled together in the sheets. Ever since then you’d been inseparable. Things happened quickly and before you knew it you were dating and moved in together, you’d never looked back.

You got into your car and placed your bag on the passenger seat, you linked your phone to the car and played your music. You listened to your playlist, one Leah had made for you, as the sun rose above the road ahead of you.

When you arrived at your and Leah’s apartment you set your bag in the hallway, Leah’s football boots and bag were still there so you knew she was still at home.

Leah stood at the over, making you and her some breakfast. "Hey love," Leah smiled, leaving the oven and waking over to you. "Long night?"

You nodded, melting into Leah’s embrace as she pulled you into her chest. "The ER was chaotic, I’m so tired."

Leah's eyes softened. "You did so well, love. I missed you," she confessed, her fingers brushing against your side.

"I miss you too," you whispered. "More than I can say. I feel like we’re spending no time together at the moment.”

Leah's lips curved into a half-smile. "Maybe it’s time we do something about it," she suggested. “You’re burning yourself out, love.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You’d never expected Leah to say it out loud. You’d been dancing around your feelings for months. You knew deep down Leah was right and maybe it was time to do something about it.

You’d been a nurse for four years now and things were getting too much, you didn’t enjoy your job as much anymore. It was time for you to do something else.

Leah let go of you and walked over to the oven, she turned it off before coming back over and picking you up. As she lifted you effortlessly, you clung to her, your heart racing. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, you buried your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent—a mix of vanilla and other scents.

"Where are we going?" you asked, your voice muffled against her skin.

"To the couch," Leah replied softly. "We need to talk. Jonas has let me skip training today, I explained what’s happening, so don’t worry.”

She carried you across the small kitchen and settled you down on the worn-out cushions. The morning light streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on Leah's face. Her expression was serious, yet there was tenderness in her eyes.

"Love," she began, sitting beside you, "I've watched you pour your heart and soul into your work. You're an incredible nurse, but you're drowning. The long hours, the emotional toll, it’s taking a toll on you."

You nodded, tears threatening to spill. Leah understood you better than anyone. She'd been there during your late-night shifts, holding you when you came home exhausted, listening to your stories of life and death in the ER.

"I can't keep doing this," you admitted. "I need a change."

Leah's fingers traced patterns on your thigh. "What do you want, then? What would make you happy?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with possibility. You thought about the dreams you'd buried—the baking classes you'd abandoned, the travel plans postponed indefinitely. The desire to create, explore, and live beyond the hospital walls.

"I don’t know," you shrugged as Leah drew patterns on your knee, “I just want to be with you. I want us to go back to how we were.”

Leah's smile was soft and understanding. "You loved to bake when I met you, your cookies were out of this world.”

A soft laugh escaped past your lips, “I always dreamed of owning a bakery like my Nanna.

Growing up your Nanna Olive owned her very own bakery, it was called Olive’s Bakery and you used to spend your weekend there up until the age of sixteen. She passed a few months after you turned sixteen and even though you begged your parents to keep the bakery, they sold it. Your heart broke and since then your baking slowly stopped.

“You should open a bakery," She leaned in, brushing her lips against yours. "I’ll help you and I’m sure Beth, Viv, Katie, Jen and the other girls will too."

Her kiss was a promise—a promise of change, of love, of a future beyond the ER. And as you melted into her, you knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful.

You nodded, a smile written over your face now replacing the frown, “Owning a bakery would be better for when we start our own family.”

Leah giggled, “It would be,” she agreed, “wouldn’t have to worry about you and our baby all night long.”

“You’re such a stress-head, Mrs Williamson.” You laughed, cupping Leah’s face and pulling her closer to you.

She pecked your lips, “Can’t help it that I’m so in love with my wife, Mrs Williamson. Now let’s get you to bed, get you some rest.”

You didn’t protest when Leah scooped you up from the couch and carried you into your bedroom, instead you melted into her arms and let her take care of you. You let her pull back the sheets and tuck you in before crawling into bed beside you.

Just over a year later you were living your dream. A few days after that conversation with Leah you handed in your two week notice and left nursing behind you for good. After that you took a few months off and spent some well needed time with Leah and your families, you began to find yourself again.

You began the starting process to open your own bakery after you and Leah returned from your trip to Rome to celebrate your seven year anniversary together, one that wasn’t spent working for the first time in over four years. You viewed a couple buildings with Leah but nothing felt right until one night you were laid in bed and made a discovery.

“Leah!” You screamed, despite the blonde being sat beside you.

Leah jumped out of her own skin, “Jesus woman!” She laughed, “No need to shout, love. What's wrong?”

“I can’t believe this!” You grinned, staring down at your phone, “Nanna Olive’s old bakery building has come up for sale and I’ve just been asked if I want to buy it!”

Happy tears formed in your eyes as you flipped your phone round to Leah’s view, “This is literally perfect, Le!”

Leah leaned over and kissed you lips before wrapping her arm around your stomach, “Love that’s amazing! Are you going to buy it?”

You nodded, “Yeah I am, it’s fate.”

You placed an offer and less than 24 hours later it was accepted, you cried your eyes out when you found out. A week later you’d already started renovating the building, you tried your hardest to get it as close as possible to what it was like when you were a teenager with the help of Leah and the Arsenal girls.

Two months later and the bakery was finished, it looked and felt exactly like it did when you were sixteen despite it being ten years later. You began to figure out recipes and after many failed attempts you finally sorted a menu out, most of the baked goods came from the book of recipes your Nanna Olive had passed down from to you.

A month later and it was opening day. Opening day was a nerve racking experience for you, you just wanted to make everyone proud and you did just that. Leah and all of the Arsenal girls turned up for your opening day as well as all of your family and friends. Customers hurried in and out and six months later you were the go to bakery in town.

As you began to close down the bakery for the evening, the bell chimed above the door. You stopped wiping the counters and turned around to see Leah standing there. She had her football bag in her hand and a soft smile written over her face.

You rounded the counter and walked over to Leah, putting your arms around her neck. You brought her in for a kiss, “Hi my love, how was training?”

“It was good,” she pecked your lips as her hands trailed down your hips before finding your bump. “How are my girls?”

You were currently twenty three weeks pregnant with Leah and yours first child. A daughter to be precise.

“Our girl is doing just fine,” you whispered, your voice filled with love and anticipation. “She’s strong, hasn’t stopped kicking all day, reckon she’s going to be a footballer just like her Mumma.”

She chuckled, her breath warm against your cheek. “I can’t wait to meet her,” Leah smiled as she felt your daughter kick against her hand. “God, they are strong kicks!”

With the help of Leah, you finished closing down the bakery. You both ended up snacking on some leftover cookies and lemonade before making your way home.

As you laid in bed that night, Leah’s arms wrapped around you, she kissed your forehead, “I’m so proud of you y’know? What you’ve done over the past year is amazing.”

You smiled at her, “Thank you, love. I couldn’t have done it without you and everyone around us. If it wasn’t for that night I'd probably be stuck nursing still.”

And there, in the quiet darkness, you both drifted off to sleep. You fell asleep in Leah’s arms, something a year ago you would’ve yearned for all night long. Now you didn’t need to because you had the life you’d always dreamed of.

[its-time-to-write]

hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore

this was cute. you were right.

coffee at midnight

Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.

“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.

But like, it is private.

That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.

It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.

You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”

Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”

“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.

You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”

The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”

You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.

“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.

Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.

“Oh shit,” he says.

You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.

He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”

“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.

The room goes silent. 

“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”

“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”

Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.

“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.

“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”

“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”

Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”

All eyes turn to you.

“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.

The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.