#fluffy-sweater-lover | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onlyswan · 1 year ago

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summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.

idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k

warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao

playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo

> in which masterlist!

note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!

—

I. THE FALLING

“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”

his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.

heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.

he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.

“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

“sure. should i be worried?“

“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”

you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”

oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.

he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”

“i have an extra toothbrush!”

—

jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.

“can you see if this fits you?”

you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.

“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”

he chuckles. “you forgot?”

“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”

does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.

you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”

but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?

—

the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.

“it’s nice, right?”

he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.

“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”

“is that so? thank you!”

he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.

“and what do we have here?”

jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.

“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.

you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

“goodnight.”

he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.

“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”

—

jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.

he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.

it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.

he flinches.

your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.

he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.

“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.

he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.

he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.

his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.

he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“so, so adorable.”

the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.

—

II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR

“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”

you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.

he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”

“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”

“the one you think is lying about being rich?”

“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”

that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.

“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”

“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”

“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”

fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?

“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”

“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”

“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

yeah, how convenient.

he exhales through his mouth.

when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.

“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.

he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.

—

jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.

“are you okay?”

his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.

“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”

“i can give you a massage. if you want.”

“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”

��hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”

he squints his eyes at you. “really?”

“you don’t believe me?”

you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.

“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”

“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”

he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.

“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”

“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”

he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.

he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”

“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”

“you’re still doing it right now!”

“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”

there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.

“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”

“here? your shoulder blade?”

“yes!”

“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”

it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.

“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”

“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”

—

he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.

“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”

he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you hum.

the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.

“hey, wipe your drool.”

he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.

“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”

“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”

“that happens a lot.”

“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”

the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.

“goodnight!”

“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.

his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.

“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.

he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.

he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?

“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.

he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.

as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.

he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.

and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.

—

III. THE YEARNING

jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.

instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.

if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.

“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”

“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”

oh my god, what is happening?

“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”

unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.

a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”

two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.

when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.

dangerous because he wants to kiss you.

dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.

“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”

and the door slams shut. you both flinch.

“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”

you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.

“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”

you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”

he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.

“why? are you mad at me?”

“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”

“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.

and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.

“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”

“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”

he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.

“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”

you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.

perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?

not that it matters.

you cling to his neck and it all melts away.

he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”

“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”

“where’s your key?”

“huh?”

“your key-”

“oh!”

you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.

he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.

—

after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.

“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.

jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.

goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.

“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”

he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.

“you’re so hardheaded.”

he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.

“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.

you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?

dear god, he hopes so.

—

jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.

he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.

when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.

a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.

the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.

this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.

he feels a weak tug at his sweater.

“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.

next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!

he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”

“i’m cold,” you repeat.

“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”

his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.

you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.

now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.

he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.

he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.

“my makeup…”

you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.

“what was that?”

“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”

he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.

he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.

“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”

he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.

his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.

as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”

—

IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS

“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”

“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”

jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.

“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”

you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”

“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”

a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.

“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”

“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”

“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”

he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”

“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”

“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.

“is it for you?”

“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”

jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.

he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.

“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”

your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.

he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”

“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”

you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.

“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”

“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”

he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.

“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”

he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.

—

V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.

but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.

you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.

“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.

you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”

“mhm? yes, baby?”

you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.

you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”

his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.

jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.

the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.

he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”

“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.

he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.

it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.

“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”

you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“

he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”

you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.

“ye-yes, really.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”

you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.

he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.

“may i?”

the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.

your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.

“may i?” he repeats himself.

he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.

“will you fuck me good after?”

the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.

“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.

you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.

you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.

“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”

“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”

you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.

“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”

hell no, you’re not.

but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.

—

the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.

has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.

you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.

“are you good? do you need anything? water?”

“again.”

his eyes widens. “again?“

“round two.” you giggle.

you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.

“jungkook-” you complain.

“wait!”

you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.

“what is it?”

“i found it!”

it’s the flower.

beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.

he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.

it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?

you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.

the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.

—

“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.

you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.

he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.

“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”

“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”

he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.

“at least eat first!”

“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”

“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”

“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”

“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.

he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.

“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.

“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”

—

VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME

“i missed you.”

you giggle. “you look drunk.”

you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.

he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”

“then go to sleep!”

“i don’t want to!”

he opens one eye, peeking at you.

“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”

“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”

while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.

“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”

you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.

“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”

you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”

“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”

“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”

you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?

“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.

“i’m not!”

“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.

it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.

“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”

there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.

“wonder about?”

“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”

you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.

“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”

“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”

“it’s not a big deal!”

“go on then. i’m listening.”

“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”

the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.

“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”

“baby, what are you even saying-”

“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”

“but they’re not you!”

he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.

“it’s really as simple as that.”

“but when we weren’t official yet-”

“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”

you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”

“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”

he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.

she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?

but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.

oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.

you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.

you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.

you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”

“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”

“how would i know?”

he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”

he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.

“he’s still awake, right?”

“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”

you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”

“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”

“wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”

“aw, my love…”

he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.

“just close your eyes.”

and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.

“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”

but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.

you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”

“i won’t unless you go back with me!”

this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.

with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.

taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.

“need anything?”

“all the videos you have of him drunk!”

“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”

—

VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY

“give it to me.”

the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.

relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.

the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.

jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.

he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.

his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.

“my love, why are you sad?”

you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.

“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”

his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”

“really? how’d you know?”

“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”

“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”

“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”

“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.

he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.

“you have me. what’s wrong?”

your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.

“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”

he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.

“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”

it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.

“you’re my reason to live too.”

“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”

“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”

“i will die eventually.” you grimace.

“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”

“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”

you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.

“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”

“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.

the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.

“why am i getting upset?”

“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”

ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.

“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”

he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.

“what then? are we supposed to die together?”

he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”

“wow, very shakespearean of you.”

“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”

“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.

jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.

“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.

“thank you?”

“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”

“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”

“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”

cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.

he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.

he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.

the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.

he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.

it’s time to sleep, he also decides.

he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”

—

(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)

[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]

“is it rolling?”

“yes, it’s rolling.”

you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.

your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.

the lens zoom in on your face.

childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.

“am i doing it?!”

“you are!”

“really?”

“really!”

“is it pretty?”

your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.

“let me watch!”

the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.

rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.

“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”

“why?”

“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction

1K notes · View notes

lay-z · 3 months ago

Text

🌲 Day 6 ‒ A Christmas tree disaster

Synopsis: This was supposed to be a relaxing, fun getaway for the three of you, – spending Christmas leave in a cosy cottage in the Scottish Highlands, – but for some reason, your two lovers just don’t seem to be getting along.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader x John Soap MacTavish

Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | multiple POV’s; military!Reader; established poly!relationship; cussing; humour; domesticity; sexual roleplay; dirty talk; breeding kink; voyeurism; angst; edging; orgasm denial; miscommunication (Don't worry, though!)

Word count: 2.9k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

Happy St. Nicholas’ Day! Hope you’ll enjoy this. 🎅🏼❤️

Blowing softly on the steaming cup of black tea clutched between your palms, you watch from the large kitchen window front as the snowy blanket covering the scenery outside thickens with the steady flutter of big, fluffy snowflakes.

The snowfall is creating a beautiful, tranquil atmosphere that seems like a perfect setting for a romantic getaway, it’s been snowing consistently since you’ve arrived at the cottage last night and it doesn’t look like it will let up anytime soon, judging by the grey sky.

You let out a soft sigh, your thoughts turning to the approaching Christmas Eve tomorrow.

You're finally on leave with Simon and Johnny, who have rented a cosy cottage in the picturesque Scottish Highlands for some much-needed R&R, after Johnny had practically begged you two to visit Scotland with him over the holidays.

“There ye are, hen,” Johnny coos as he approaches from behind; two warm, beefy arms, clad in a deep blue chequered lumberjack shirt, wrap around your waist from behind as he pulls you into himself, your back moulding against his bulky chest.

“Enjoyin’ the bonnie view, hm?” He asks softly, voice muffled as he buries his face into your neck.

Your heart flutters at his unexpected embrace, the warmth of his arms enveloping you like a comforting blanket. The snowy scenery outside might be beautiful, but the feeling of his strong, solid presence behind you is what truly captures your attention and helps you relax.

“Hmmm,” you hum in contentment, putting the hot mug down on the counter in front of you before leaning back into him. “Yeah, it's gorgeous out here. Perfect for a cosy holiday getaway. Good job renting this place for us, baby.”

Johnny grins, his voice a soft rumble. “Knew it'd be nice. Cannae wait ta spend the week all by ourselves – with ye and the Grinch.” His fingers splay across your abdomen, his arms wrapping around you tighter.

“We can unwind here, or even go out some. Have a proper snowball war,” he suggests, nuzzling into your neck, “– or stay inside an’ have some fun.” He teases, the smirk evident in his deep voice, his warm breath fanning over you, sending a shiver down your spine.

You squirm in his embrace, giggling softly, when his fingers sneak underneath the hem of your beige wool sweater, tickling along your warm skin.

“Will you stop calling Simon a Grinch? Because he will clock you if he hears it again.”

Johnny chuckles against your neck, his fingers roaming beneath your sweater and brushing over the underside of your bra-clad breasts, “But it's fitting, innit? He is grouchy as hell, more so than usual.” He objects, his featherlight touch sending sparks of desire to your core.

“And let tha’ big geezer try. I can take him any day.” He murmurs jokingly, pressing a soft kiss to your nape as his hands cup your breasts over your soft bra, groping them sensually while he pushes the growing bulge inside his jeans against your rear.

You moan softly at his teasing, your breath hitching as you feel his muscular body pressing flush against yours. Your hips instinctively push back against him, your head tilting as his mouth peppers kisses along the side of your neck, the rough stubble of his chin adding to the sensation.

“Ah, careful… Johnny,” you murmur, your fingers reaching up and behind you to thread through his dark, short Mohawk while his hands cup your breasts, pinching your stiffening nipples through the fabric.

“We need to help Simon relax and unwind. You know that he’s still adjusting to… this relationship. Plus, you know that the holidays aren’t easy for him.” Johnny hums along as you speak; still pre-occupied with kissing your neck and groping your body, so you give his Mohawk a tug that has him growling in return.

“Where is he anyway?” You ask eventually, concern lacing your voice as you let out another contented sigh while you try not to get too distracted by your other boyfriend and his ministrations – or shenanigans.

Johnny mutters in between teasing nips, “Said he’s gonna take a walk… Talkin’ about ‘checkin’ the bloody perimeter’.” He snorts, his breath puffing against your shoulder, “I was thinkin’ we could ah– christen the kitchen now, hm? Give him somethin’ nice ta look at when he comes back. Whaddaya think, hen?”

Your fingers carding through his hair loosen their grip and your arm drops to your side, resolve crumbling when one of his big hands lets go of your breast to slip beneath the waistband of your matching beige leisure pants.

“You–You can’t keep saying that Simon is a voyeur, baby,” you almost whine, your voice already breathless as his fingers start teasing your rapidly dampening slit and swelling clit through your panties.

“Ach, our Grinch’s a bloody voyeur and ’m a nasty mutt and ye luv us both for it,” Johnny growls against your nape, biting down playfully as he pushes your panties aside and plunges a finger past your sopping entrance while his other hand pushes your bra up to free your breasts beneath your sweater.

“Now… be a good wifey and let me fill you up with my cum, aye? Gonna breed you fuckin’ nicely over the holidays– make sure ye’re kept all warm an’ stuffed, an’ ask Simon ta take turns with me.”

Your knees nearly buckle as he adds a second finger into your cunt, thick digits working their magic to prepare you for his girthy cock, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You can't deny the truth in his words. Yes, Simon is a voyeur, and yes, Johnny is a naughty, eager brat. And yes, you love them both more than anything.

The mention of being Johnny’s ‘wifey’ causes a shiver to pass through your body and you feel like your pussy reacts even harder, gushing with arousal as he keeps pumping and scissoring his fingers, muttering filth into your ear with his Scottish brogue. The idea of submitting to him, to both of them, being their ‘good wife’... it's incredibly intoxicating.

Eventually, your sweater is pulled over your head along with your bra and dropped onto the dark kitchen tiles; your skin pebbles with goose bumps when Johnny pushes you forward, making you brace your hands on the brown marble kitchen counter while you hear him fumble with his belt and zipper behind you.

He pushes your soft pants and panties down your hips, letting the fabric pool at your feet as he nudges them apart with his boot, “Fuckin’ hell, look at tha’ bonnie cunt. Ye’re already drippin’ f’me, wifey.”

Simon closes the heavy, dark cedar wood door behind him with his usual finesse, making little to no sound, even as he steps inside the spacious entrance area, gently placing the freshly chopped logs for the fireplace down in a corner, before brushing the powdery snow off of his warm black bomber jacket, kicking off his wet winter boots next.

He feels better after his walk, having swept the perimeter and gotten familiar with the surroundings of the cottage where they will be residing at for the next couple of days; it eases his anxiety and soothes his paranoia, knowing his way around here, even though both you and Johnny are more than capable enough to handle possible danger and threats, no matter where.

After hanging up his jacket next to yours and Johnny’s, he knows that the both of you are either still settling in or lounging around somewhere.

However, when Simon saunters down the hallway toward the open living room area, his trained ears pick up the odd sound of rapid skin on skin contact coming from the kitchen and his stomach drops and tightens into knots, synapses firing in his brain, once he makes the connection and comes to the most logical conclusion.

Of course, you two would be doing that.

A part of him wants to simply leave and find some other way to occupy himself, but he has to admit, his curiosity and the shameless urge to watch you get fucked by Johnny wins out – always does. So, he slowly strides toward the kitchen, his sock-footed steps silent and measured, while the sound of slapping flesh, your wanton moans and Johnny’s hoarse groans become louder as he approaches.

When Simon comes to stand inside the open kitchen doorway, a shockwave of blasting desire shoots through his lower abdomen, makes his groin throb and his cock chuff inside his boxers at the obscene sight in front of him.

His sharp eyes land on Johnny’s bare ass and clothed torso, jeans pooling at his boot-clad ankles; plump ass cheeks and hairy thighs flexing as he pounds into you from behind while one of his meaty hands is wrapped around the back of your neck, pushing your naked body down against the counter while the fingers of his other hand dig into the fat of your hip to keep you steady.

Simon tries to keep his breathing steady, but his blood starts rushing and simmering, knuckles turning white as he balls his hands into tight fists at his sides to keep his composure while heat starts licking up his spine, flushing his pale cheeks which are still stinging from the biting cold outside.

The way your smooth back arches as you take Johnny’s fat cock, makes Simon want to jump into action himself and lick his flat tongue along your spine, get a good taste of your sweat and skin. He can clearly see your legs quaking; can hear how wet you are as Johnny’s heavy sac slaps against your flesh. It’s making him dizzy, and he bites back a low groan bubbling up in his chest.

Simon’s painfully hard now, dick straining against his underwear, and he knows – one flick of your pretty tongue over his flushed cockhead would have him buckle and come undone within seconds, erupting like a bloody volcano.

Suddenly, his right hand cups his throbbing erection through his black cargo pants, heart thudding violently against his ribcage as he rubs himself, sucking in a sharp breath through his nostrils as his own touch ease some of the pressure.

Slowly, his dark eyes move lower, his gaze fixated on your face and the way it contorts in pleasure, lips parted with keening moans while your eyes are squeezed shut. He tries to keep his expression neutral, despite the ache between his thighs, but his jaw ticks and the vein in his neck throbs with restraint. Watching you and Johnny... despite how much it turns him on, it always makes him feel insignificant, inadequate, redundant...

Simon hates how he’s feeling about this relationship lately. How envious he is and how he thinks of himself as an intruder rather than your equal lover and boyfriend. An equal with Johnny, despite slipping and sliding into your relationship later than the Scot.

And now, he’s stuck with the two people who he cares most about and loves for vastly different reasons on this godforsaken planet, unable to enjoy this R&R, because he doesn’t know and has never learned how to relax and unwind and enjoy these holidays that everyone seems to love so bloody much. He’s sure neither you nor Johnny would bat an eyelash at those sentiments of his and he can’t even blame either of you for that.

“Can feel ye squeezin’ me, hen, – Fuck! Ye gonna cum f’me, aye?” Johnny taunts you, his voice strained and husky with desire, “Ah, F–Fuck! ‘m close, baby! Ye ready?”

The way you whimper and moan for Johnny, blabbering gibberish in ecstasy, has Simon gritting his teeth as his chest clenches and his cock throbs, ready to burst so soon with little to no stimulation, but he can’t – can’t allow himself to use you two and finish in his pants like this. It feels wrong and pathetic, like he doesn’t deserve nor earned it yet.

Your words come out chopped, breath hitching with each thrust of Johnny’s powerful hips, his girthy cock dragging through your slick channel, thick tip nudging against that spongy spot that has your brain go fuzzy as your pitchy whines are torn from your throat and echo through the cottage, “Fuck– ah yes, yes, yes! John-ny–!”

Even in the throes of passion, Johnny is aware of Simon’s presence; knowing the big bloke is probably standing completely still behind them in the kitchen’s doorway, trying to keep himself from whipping out his cock to stroke it.

But the stubborn Scotsman has made it his personal mission for the holidays to keep you extra satisfied and happy, and finally make Simon let loose in the process of it. It just hasn’t been working too well so far with the latter, though he’s making progress with the former–

His grip on your neck tightens as the tension in his lower belly coils deliciously, his balls getting taut with his impending release as he snaps his hips forward, making sure to keep the right angle, keep you moaning his name with that saccharine voice of yours as his meaty cock pistons in and out of your wet cunt while your rippling walls clench tightly around his shaft, trying to suck him in deeper.

Johnny eases his grip on your neck with a deep grunt and lets his warm, big palm run down the curve of your back, arched so sweetly for him, before he lifts it to smack your right ass cheeks harshly, watching the fat jiggle as you yelp.

As soon as you cry out in pleasure and your body starts tensing, Johnny knows you’re about ready to tip over the edge, so he grabs your hips with both hands and doubles the effort, eager to follow you into the abyss.

“You better fuckin’ stop, MacTavish, and don’t you fuckin’ dare come inside her now.”

Johnny’s breath stutters, thrusts faltering as soon as Simon’s booming, gravelly voice resounds behind him. And just like that, his chance to climax and fill you up with his cum is popped and broken like a flimsy balloon.

The intensity in Simon's voice is like a bucket of cold water, snapping you out of your haze of pleasure, and you tense, perking up as you grip the kitchen counter before glancing over your shoulder with widened doe-eyes, shocked gaze flickering between Johnny and Simon. In an instant, the atmosphere changes and things get tense – the sexual tension in the air transforming into something more volatile, something potentially explosive.

“We got stuff do to, shite to prepare for tomorrow and you two are shagging,” Simon scoffs, trying to keep his voice nonchalant while ignoring the obvious, raging boner in his cargo pants, “Typical.”

“Stuff ta prepare?” Johnny huffs a laugh, raising his brows in amused disbelief while his hips keep grinding into your pulsating heat shamelessly, “Mate, we’re on vacation,” he says matter-of-factly, holding your hips tighter as you try to pull away, “There’s not a feckin’ thing more important than peace, love, food, and ‘specially this–” He gives your ass cheek a couple more teasing pats as Simon saunters into the kitchen, squaring his broad shoulders.

Meanwhile, there is nothing else you’d rather do than melt into a puddle and seep into the floor in shame and embarrassment.

Your cheeks heat up even hotter, when Simon comes to stand beside you, scrutinizing you thoroughly with his icy, unwavering gaze before he reaches out with one hand to brush his rough, cold knuckles over the side of your face lovingly.

“You did want a Christmas tree, right, lovey?”

Your whole body shudders and your throat goes dry, completely caught off guard by the sudden display of tenderness from Simon after catching you in such a vulnerable, obscene position. Still, your brows draw together in a thankful frown as you nod slowly.

The corners of Simon’s eyes crinkle the tiniest bit as his gaze softens for you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he rumbles, brushing his knuckles along your tense jawline as you whimper, “Gonna make this Christmas special f’ya.”

“Oh... fuck–” Johnny huffs, chest heaving before he chuckles with a playful glint in his cobalt blue eyes, “Our bonnie lass loves ye an’ yer voice, Si. Her pretty cunny is grippin’–”

“Enough, Johnny!” Simon barks, making you flinch, “Now put your fuckin’ dick away and help her get dressed. We gotta go cut down that tree before the bloody sun sets.”

#call of duty #ghost x reader x soap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #cod:mw #tf 141 #reader insert #cod advent calendar 2024 #simon x reader x johnny #ghoap #ghoap x reader

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captain-joongz · 11 months ago

Text

A little show

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: uni au, pure smut with a dash of plot, some fluff, strangers to lovers

Word count: 9.6k

Summary: Who knew that getting off in the uni bathroom to get away from the world's most boring lecture could lead to getting absolutely railed by a cute postgrad student... but third time's the charm, right?

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, masturbation in a public bathroom, sex in a public bathroom (for once they're even using condoms lol), yoongi is a little shit but he'll rock your world, dirty talk, slight choking kink, dom-ish yoongi, who am i kidding he's a fucking beast, fingering, backshots, rough sex, some begging, biting and marking, they literally don't talk to each once before fucking

A/N: oof this was totally unplanned but i cannot be held responsible for anything after seeing the d-day concert movie, this is all yoongi's fault. also it ends surprisingly fluffy for the filth that's contained within

credit for the divider to @saradika-graphics, thank you so much <3

I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself awake while the lecturer droned on, his nervous slightly stuttering voice carrying through the classroom and lulling everyone into a half-asleep haze. Every Tuesday I had to sit through 90 minutes of this man stumbling through every topic, trying to connect with the classroom full of people while anxiously stepping around the whiteboard projecting his presentation.

I was fully understanding, this was his first year teaching and he still hasn’t shaken off the stage fright, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I had never enrolled into this class and rather spent the time doing literally anything else. It didn’t help that it was an afternoon lecture, dragging on until 5PM, which was usually the time I was already completely fried.

I looked around, noting the other students similarly fighting off sleep or browsing internet on their notebooks, some valiantly still trying to keep their attention on the lecturer and failing miserably. I watched the girl in the row in front of me order a cute sweater, deliberating between two colours for about ten minutes before choosing strawberry pink. I approved.

My body was screaming from being bent over the desk in my boredom, back bent so crooked when I straightened out it cracked vertebra after vertebra like a xylophone from nightmares. I sighed, squirmed around, checked the time. Only 5 minutes have passed since I last looked. I barely suppressed a groan. I couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute, leaning back then pressing forward, folding and unfolding my legs, just trying to find a comfortable position to spend the next 40 minutes in and failing.

After 5 more minutes I reached a boiling point, playing with the thought of just booking it halfway through, but instead my unoccupied brain started entertaining itself by slipping into a territory that it deemed more fun. I started thinking about what I’d rather be doing, where I’d rather be, flushing slightly from embarrassment but surrendering to these thoughts as they presented at least some form of entertainment.

I made it barely 10 minutes before I was so painfully wet and aroused I definitely couldn’t make it through the lecture anymore. I had to do something about it, now.

I wasn’t shy about the fact that I occasionally enjoyed wanking in some more public spaces like bathrooms, the thrill of someone possibly coming in and having to keep quiet was getting to me. I didn’t indulge in it often, just when I got really bored and my brain immediately went to “let’s get off to entertain ourselves” instead of doing something normal like other people, just when I was sure there was only a slight chance of someone actually coming across me.

But thinking all that, I realised I’d never taken such liberty while I was in the uni building, probably just thinking about getting out of there as quickly as possible, but fuck, this lecture was getting to me. Somehow it felt more morally wrong than some other random ass places, but I deliberated on it. We were in a secluded corner of the building, it was really high and there was no elevator, the classrooms were smaller and above there was construction going on, which resulted in this place usually being totally deserted except for those unlucky souls that still had lectures here. I was pretty sure there was no other class going on here right now and the chance of someone from here going to the bathroom at the same time was slim.

On a whim I decided to take the risk, my body heating up knowing I was about to give in to the need. I quickly stood up, grabbed my phone and made my way outside. The hall was empty except for a single guy sitting by a table directly across from the bathroom door, but I figured it would be fine. He was wearing headphones anyway, head bobbing to a beat I couldn’t hear and fingers nimbly clicking something on his laptop and toying with the mouse. I slipped past him quietly and went straight for the bathroom door.

Inside was quiet, as if cut off from the outside world, the only two toilets both empty and door wide open. I went to the further one, not that it made much difference with how small the room was, but it still made me feel a little better.

With the door closed and locked for better feeling of security, the excitement finally got the better of me and I rushed to stick my hand into my skirt to pull down my tights and panties, fingers immediately finding the slick folds.

I bent over, the stall small enough to allow me to lean on my elbow on one wall while my ass pressed into the other, fingers going straight for my clit and wasting no time in pressing on it and circling it desperately. Quiet sighs of pleasure spilled from my lips, body trembling with pleasure heightened by the fact I was in a public space.

I barely even touched myself and I could already feel how fucked out I was getting, knees shaking and the pleasure mounting dangerously fast. In my mind I imagined myself bent over the toilet and a warm presence behind me, getting fucked good, strong hands gripping my waist hard, pulling me back on the cock like a toy while telling me to shut up, laughing at me while I bit my fist trying not to let the whole university know how good I was feeling.

My orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, the pad of my finger furiously toying with my clit while my knees were shaking with the mounting pressure waiting to snap. I was so wet I felt my juices dripping down my thighs, dripping onto my hand and making my finger slip all the time as I tried to get myself to cum as fast as possible.

That didn’t seem to be that hard as I could already feel myself hurling towards the edge, cunt spasming around nothing, desperately wishing to be filled, as my ass pressed harder into the wall and my back arched. I could feel a little cramp starting up in my wrist, but I didn’t let up, keeping the pace on my clit as I felt the start of an intense orgasm, the sensation bursting through me like a tornado and I let out a moan muffled into the crook of my elbow. My knees buckled with the force of it and thank god that I was still leaning on the wall otherwise I would have for sure fallen down.

My whole body relaxed, thighs and knees still shaking as I tried to get my breathing back under control. The bathroom was suddenly eerily quiet now that there wasn’t blood rushing through my ears and I wasn’t blinded by my own ecstasy, and I flushed in embarrassment but still couldn’t stop myself from a little joyful giggle leaving my lips in breathless wonder.

I took my time getting myself back into order, cleaning myself up and righting my clothes again. I was in there for only about 15 minutes, so there was no reason to rush. I did notice that my legs had a little boneless swagger to them as I suddenly went from high strung in boredom to perhaps a little too relaxed, a stupid little grin pulling at my lips as I swayed my hips leisurely.

But that changed the moment I walked back out onto the hall. The second I was out of the bathroom I immediately found myself in direct eye contact with the sole student sitting out there. I only had a second to note he was very attractive before I realised he was watching me with the air of amusement, eyes darkening and a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back and gave me a once over.

I flushed under his heavy gaze, freezing like a deer in headlights. It was obvious he knew what I’d been doing in there, something in my demeanour must have given me away. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes lingering on my hands clutched together before amused grin set onto his face.

I broke out from the daze suddenly and set into motion again, escaping his hungry eyes and entertained aura, hurriedly scurrying back into the classroom where I sat stewing in my own shame for the rest of the lecture.

When I walked back out after we were dismissed, the hall was empty, to my great relief.

“Come on, you should come tomorrow at least for a little bit,” Jungkook whined, pouting at me and hands tugging at the sleeve of my shirt. I gave him an unimpressed look, firmly resistant to his charms, which probably made me the only person in the world that was capable of that.

“I told you Kookie, I’m not feeling it this week,” I said for the fifteenth time that day, “Maybe next time.” The dance major cutely stomped his foot and tugged on my sleeve again. His wild hair flailed around with the wind, probably getting into his eyes, but he ignored it in favour of annoying me.

“But the next party won’t be for god knows how long,” he whined, giving me his ultimate puppy eyes and blinking cutely, “Come on Y/N, you need to let go a little.” Now, I would lie if I wasn’t swayed a little bit, but the exhaustion was weighing on me and I was looking forward to just having a quiet evening in ignoring all of my responsibilities and pretending I have no essays due and there aren’t any deadlines I was missing.

“I’m sorry Kook,” I softened my tone a little to convey I truly was apologetic, smiling at him gently, “I promise I will definitely go to the next party.” The man brightened and straightened out, letting go of me and setting out on the sidewalk leading out of the campus.

“I have your word! No takebacks!” he shouted excitedly and I ran after him laughing. I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it, so I just resigned myself to going to the next party even though I quite disliked them. I had nothing against partying, but I just preferred to go clubbing and dancing, not spend my evening sitting on a stained couch in someone’s living room listening to total strangers get zoinked out of their minds and talk about assignments. But I would go for Kookie. Just once though.

We walked side by side for a moment, just enjoying the awakening spring. It was still pretty cold outside, but the sun shone more often and the temperatures were enough to wear just a light jacket instead of coats with shawls, so I soaked in the atmosphere. People were beginning to filter outside, sitting around on the green grass, talking and studying, and it was nice to see.

Looking around I suddenly froze, standing still in the middle of the path while Kook continued for a few more strides before he realised I wasn’t following. He gave me a confused look, but I was already fighting an embarrassed blush and didn’t pay him much mind.

On the grass by a big tree was quite a familiar looking student, his long wavy dark hair similarly pushed around by the wind as he bobbed his head to music presumably playing in his headphones. He was wearing all black, standing out as a sore thumb in contrast with the green lit up by sun, but he was fully engrossed in his laptop and paid no attention to anything going on around him.

“Hey Kookie,” I called out to my friend, finally looking at him, “Do you know who that guy is?” I discreetly pointed in the man’s direction, hoping I wouldn’t draw anybody’s attention by being a fucking weirdo. Jungkook was a social butterfly despite his shyness and he seemed to know half the university (probably a side effect of hanging out with Jimin all the time), even people from majors that had nothing in common with his, so I was pretty confident he would be able to correctly identify the menace of my life.

“Who?” he started confusedly looking around, eyes jumping around the students just living their lives. I tried pointing again, hoping he would see where I meant without having to outstretch my arm fully. “There, that guy in the black sitting under that tree.”

Jungkook’s eyes finally locked onto his figure and a recognition immediately lit up his face. I chuckled. Of course he did know him.

“Oh sure!” he exclaimed, “that’s Yoongi hyung. He’s a little bit university famous.” I looked at him in shock and then glanced back to the expressionless man sitting on the lawn.

“Famous? Famous how?” I pressed for more info, this time it was me who way playing up the cute act, hanging onto Jungkook’s arm and batting my eyelashes at him. He gave me an amused smile, seeing right through me.

“Well, he’s handsome and yet cool and mysterious, girls love that shit,” Kook played it up, flipping his hair sassily and fluttering his lashes, making me scoff at him amusedly, “Plus he’s a rapper and sometimes performs in the local clubs and bars, so he’s pretty popular.” I turned us away from the black-clad student who was still unaware of anything going on around him and pulled us back onto the path.

“I see,” I hummed noncommittally, not giving him any indication of why I would suddenly ask about Yoongi, but based on the amused looks Kookie was giving me, he must have had an inkling why the sudden interest.

“He’s actually in the same year as Joonie hyung, they’re interning together at the same studio,” Jungkook continued, keeping his eyes on me to gauge my reaction. I hummed again, not saying anything anymore and just sending him teasing looks.

“If you come to the party tomorrow, Yoongi’s for sure gonna be there,” Kookie mentioned seemingly casually, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as he pretended he didn’t care mischievously.

I only shot him a glare and pulled on his arm, leading us out of the campus towards the café where we were supposed to meet Jimin and Tae, Kookie’s friends who graciously adopted me into the group after I got befriended by the shy giant.

For the rest of the afternoon I could feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, his lips pulled into a barely concealed smile as he fought the impulse to tease me in front of the boys about what he must have thought was an embarrassing crush on the school’s resident heartthrob. I ostentatiously ignored him, only shooting him warning glares here and there to which he always responded with shit-eating grins. Jimin and Tae kept giving us confused and entertained glances but ultimately decided against asking what was going on, much to my relief.

God, if they only knew the truth about why Yoongi even was on my radar in the first place.

The next Tuesday I walked into the classroom again, fully determined to sit through the whole lecture and not move even an inch from my seat. This time I chose a chair in the back, where I could comfortably be on my phone and distract myself from the thoughts of last week, from the attractive man and his smirks. I wondered whether he was sitting there again today, listening to what I now assumed was his own music, laid-back and effortlessly hot. I began to squirm in my seat again, but I quickly tempered it down, scolding myself gently for having such a one-track mind.

Once again I made it through an hour and with 30 minutes left, I began to face a crisis. The boredom was getting to me and I needed to use the toilet, my bladder screaming for help and making me shift around on my chair in discomfort. I thought that I couldn’t really face the bathroom without getting extremely embarrassed, but in the end I lost the battle to nature and got up.

Only, stepping onto the hall, I looked up and lo and behold, there he was – Yoongi sitting peacefully by the window and clicking away on his computer, his big black headphones firmly on as always. The movement by the door must have registered at the corner of his field of vision and he eagerly looked up.

The moment his eyes laid on my figure, frozen once again in the hallway and heating up under his stare, he smirked widely like he won the lottery, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the chair. With his gaze following my every movement I hurried into the bathroom, cheeks blushing and knees turning into jelly.

On instinct I went to the furthest stall and locked the door behind me shakily. Having taken care of my business I paced the stall nervously, already feeling myself bend under the tension. I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, knowing Yoongi was sitting outside fully aware of the nature of my little trip last week, but his demeanour, the winning smirk and dark eyes made me want to break that promise.

Embarrassingly enough, I could already feel myself getting wet again and I begun to lose the conviction to just walk away and go sit back into the classroom for another terrible 30 minutes. The thoughts of Yoongi waiting in the hallway, hungrily watching the bathroom door and thinking about me with my hand up my skirt were getting to me and I finally broke.

Swiftly pulling down my tights and underwear I didn’t waste anymore time in sticking my fingers between my folds, gathering the wetness and rubbing the swollen bud begging for attention. I couldn’t hold back the little sighs and moans of pleasure, my body hyper-sensitive and the lust coursing through my body more intense than I could remember ever feeling.

It didn’t take long before I was choking on the moans I desperately tried to stifle on my arm, knees shaking and close to buckling and pussy clenching on nothing, feeling so empty and so desperate for anything I was losing my mind.

And if I was deliriously cumming on my fingers only a moment later while imagining Yoongi fucking me roughly in the uni bathroom, that was only my business.

With trembling fingers I quickly cleaned myself up, blushing when I realised I was so wet the whole top of my thighs was covered in my sticky juices. Putting myself back together I rushed to scrub my hands clean and soon I was standing behind the door, taking a few deep breaths but the excitement still getting the better of me and I eagerly walked out, expectantly looking for Yoongi’s reaction with a little sly smile on my face.

And I was not disappointed.

The second I stepped out, his head snapped in my direction, confirming that he really was waiting for me to come out. His cheeks were also lightly dusted with pink from excitement, his eyes as dark as midnight with his pupils blown wide with lust. He immediately licked his lips, eyes raking over my form and taking in the shaky knees and trembling hips, the blush on my face, both from recovering from an orgasm and shyness, hair a mess and lips bitten red.

Yoongi suddenly stood up and I realised that he packed up his laptop and headphones, all his stuff probably stuffed into his neat backpack that hung off of his shoulder. He side-stepped from the table and leisurely made his way towards me, black dress pants nicely hugging his form, white tee tucked into them accentuating his slim waist and a thick black oversized shirt hanging off him in a way that made me slightly feral.

But there was something else he wanted me to see, and I clocked it as soon as he got close enough, cheeks absolutely blazing red and my pussy valiantly clenching again even after such an orgasm.

He was hard. When my eyes slid down again to appreciate how the pants fit him so perfectly they landed on an unmistakable bulge, the front of his pants tenting in a tell-tale sign of how much he enjoyed my little show. I gasped and suddenly all confidence sapped from my body and I was left aroused and aching, willing to do anything. He watched me with a mix of condescension and arousal, knowing how easily he won over me and loving how receptive I was to just a light teasing, how the blush spread down to my collarbones and my mouth opened subconsciously, eyes glazing over and brain no doubt filled only with the thoughts of his cock.

But with an arrogant smirk he passed right by me, heading for the door of the men’s bathroom. Only when he was halfway through the door, he threw me a look over his shoulder, winking at me and his grin turned wild and rough. Then he disappeared inside.

I was left in the hall gasping for air, body ravaged by tension and lust and head full of images of Yoongi standing in the bathroom stall and hurriedly yanking at his cock, the red tip wet with pre-cum, the liquid getting smeared all over his length by his eager hands trying to get himself to completion as fast as possible. I imagined him grunting, head thrown back and mouth open but still curled into that annoying smirk.

A door opened somewhere a little down the hall and a mess of voices flowed out, startling me out of my reverie and I realised I had been just standing in the middle of an empty hallway staring dumbly at the bathroom door. I felt the bashfulness catch up to me and it sprung me into movement. With one last look at the door I scurried back into the class and spent the last 15 minutes staring into the wall with flaming red cheeks.

When I walked out after the class ended, Yoongi was back to his place, sitting completely relaxed into his chair and grinning lazily when his eyes caught mine. I felt my whole body jerk with a bolt of lust, but I ducked my head and quickly ran down the stairs, rushing out of the building and towards the café where the boys were already waiting for me. Jungkook stared at my flustered face with an unreadable expression, and I let him think whatever he wanted, too preoccupied with fighting the image of Yoongi cumming all over himself just twenty minutes ago thinking of me masturbating just a wall over.

Later that week, after many orgasms, much deliberating and a whole lot of shame I decided I needed to hear his voice. I kept thinking back to how Jungkook mentioned he was in the same year and major as Namjoon and that he was a performing rapper, and I knew Namjoon put his stuff online. And if Yoongi really was a known name in the bar scene around the area, he must have too.

Asking Jungkook about his stage name would be too humiliating, so instead I decided to rake through Namjoon’s insta because he must have his friend’s account there somewhere, hoping Yoongi would forgive me a little social media stalking. Firstly I scrolled through Namjoon’s posted pictures, but he rarely tagged other people. Most of his pictures were of artworks or Joonie doing something silly and living his best life.

So I switched to the pictures that others tagged you in. It took a while, but I was able to see that most of them were from this guy Hoseok that I had seen around but haven’t really spoken to. I knew he was a double major because he did dance like Jungkook and Jimin, but I had never realised he was also in the same major and year as Namjoon. He seemed to post a lot from the studio, often with Joon hunched over his computer in the background, but after some digging I was able to find one that had them all in it.

It was also from the studio, it must have been the one the boys were interning in, presumably all of them together. Hoseok’s face was grinning in one corner as he was taking the selfie and even though it was dark, you could clearly see two men sitting at a table together and discussing something with serious looks on their faces. A laptop sat between them and one of them had his hand lying on the pause button. It was Yoongi and Joon. Only their side-profile could be seen in the photo, but it was unmistakably them. The description only said “hyung is scolding joonie again” but tapping on the photo it showed that both of them had been tagged. Bingo.

Yoongi’s account was full of mostly dark pictures, some from the same studio and some were of him on stage mid performance, but there weren’t as many as Namjoon and Hoseok had on theirs. I scanned some of them quickly, but even though he looked super hot and the photos were extremely well done, it wasn’t the reason of my searching.

I checked the name of the account again – it was Agust D. And there was a link in the bio. Without thinking I clicked it and was transported to Spotify, Yoongi’s entire career laid out clearly in front of my eyes in the form of three albums.

I spent the evening listening to them, letting his music wash over me and losing myself in the beat and the lyrics. No matter what I was looking for when I wanted to listen to it, I got everything and more. I suddenly understood all those star-struck students that according to Kookie trailed hopelessly after Yoongi, the man had a real talent and an aura that just sucked you right in, like a fly getting trapped in a very smug spider’s web.

His voice was surprisingly lower and rougher than I anticipated, the songs had no shortage of him growling or screaming, emotions pouring off of his voice in waves that just swept me along.

And I couldn’t wait to find out what he sounded like when he was getting his rocks off.

The next Tuesday I climbed those 4 floors of stairs confidently, wearing a short skirt and cute heels, gingerly picking a spot in the class that would allow me to slink off in the middle of the lecture again. Yoongi wasn’t sitting in the hallway yet, but I believed he’d show up soon enough.

The anticipation was coursing through my veins, making me jittery and giggly. From the corner of my eye I could see a classmate giving me a strange look, mouthing at me if I was okay and I nodded hurriedly, giving her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t pay any attention to me when I had to leave.

If the two lectures before were unbearable, this one took the cake. I could barely contain myself, squirming in my seat, trying to make myself comfortable while I checked the time every 2 minutes, wishing half the lecture had already gone by and always getting disappointed at how early it still was.

My mind was going into overdrive, feeding me ideas and fantasies, replaying last week’s encounter on loop. I couldn’t see anything except for Yoongi’s lopsided smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way into the bathroom to jerk off, his face as he came thinking of me.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was absolutely losing my mind, thighs pressing together and hands tangled into the fabric of my skirt, bunching up the material. I made it 40 minutes before I grabbed my phone and sneaked out onto the hall.

Yoongi’s head shot up immediately, already sitting by the window waiting for something. This time I didn’t freeze up, instead I was the one who smirked at him and confidently walked up straight to the bathroom. He watched me raptly, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he leaned forward on the table. Couldn’t help but notice that today he didn’t have his laptop out, he just sat there and watched me, but I moved forward not giving it much thought.

I raised my eyebrow at him and winked right as I disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind me and sealing me inside in the calm and quietness. I rushed to the furthest stall, shutting the door behind me but not bothering to lock, too horny to think clearly.

I couldn’t believe this was getting to me so much, but the moment I managed to slide my tights low enough and ran my hand through my folds, I was already so wet it was astonishing. I laughed at myself in disbelief as my finger found my clit and circled it. Who would have thought this would become my weekly routine, jerking off in the bathroom while a guy I’ve never even talked to sat outside smirking.

But not today it turned out.

Just as pleasure began coursing through me at the ministrations, pleasured sighs leaving me freely as I got cocky not getting caught until now and the squelching of my wet pussy getting played with rang through the quiet space. Then, I heard the door open.

Immediately I froze, hand stopping but still stuck between my thighs. Slow silent footsteps made their way towards the stalls and I hoped whoever this person was, they would take care of their business quickly and leave right afterwards, but they seemed to be taking this in a really leisurely manner. I was holding my breath, counting the seconds, ears straining to catch any kind of sound coming from them.

“Don’t stop on my account, kitten,” a gruff voice suddenly piped up, the footsteps stopping right outside my stall. Relief and lust rushed through me at his appearance and I couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper, the fingers on my clit going back to work. There was a chuckle behind the door and then he was pushing it open.

I must have been a sight, underwear and tights pushed under my ass, skirt bunched up around my hips, bent over with my back arched leaning on the wall as I desperately played with myself, mouth open and eyes glazed over.

Yoongi’s eyes raked over me and he hummed lowly in appreciation. He made his way in lazily, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning on it and just watching for a moment. I tried to put on a show for him but I was truly gone, the three weeks of built up arousal carrying me high and my body racing towards the edge in record speed.

I watched him back, watched his dark hungry eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip, the way his hands flexed by his hips, twitching with the need to grab himself. I could see his bulge clearly, the tight black jeans barely able to contain it, and I was going crazy for it. When my eyes jumped back to Yoongi’s face, he was smirking at me knowing where I’d been staring at. What I wanted.

Suddenly he pushed himself away from the door and stepped towards me. Startled I straightened out, fingers stopping once more. He descended on me hurriedly, pushing me into the wall with his body, caging me in. Our faces were suddenly only breaths apart and Yoongi took his sweet time, teasing me by getting closer and pulling away with a laugh. I whined, my clean hand coming up to tangle in his hair and he let me, watching me from above as I writhed against him, wordlessly begging for any touch from him.

Finally, he took pity on me and with a cocky grin smashed our mouths together, immediately prying my lips open and licking inside, claiming me roughly and thoroughly. I moaned into him, body arching into his and he pressed closer, pressing me into the wall again and our bodies touched from our heads to our toes. His hand went to my neck, wrapping around it lightly and grabbing my jaw to keep me still as he kissed me with all his might.

Now with both hands I grabbed onto him, one going around his neck and one around the waist, and he broke the kiss to laugh at me quietly, turning my face with his hand so he could kiss around my ear.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that kitten?” he whispered, voice gravelly with arousal, “Coming in here every week… playing with your pussy… making yourself cum… and then coming out and giving me those eyes, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and yet playing so coy and shy… you’re such a minx.” I tensed, eyes rolling back as he started nipping at my neck, laying wet kisses and bites all over any skin he could get to.

I didn’t even notice when Yoongi’s other hand found its way between my legs, fingers roughly pressing onto my clit. I choked on a moan, head falling back and hitting the tiled wall, hands flexing into his clothes. He bit my shoulder enough to leave a mark, chuckling at my loud keening before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear again.

“Last week I thought I would go crazy sitting there,” Yoongi continued, almost growling into my skin as his fingers twisted meanly around my sensitive nub making me tremble, “I couldn’t focus on anything, not when I knew how much you wanted to give me a show. Almost went to jerk off at least five times but I held off until you came out to repay the favour.” He chuckled again, hand tightening a little on my neck as he leaned back to look at me.

I tried to get my breathing under control but I was stuck with my mouth hanging open, noises flowing out freely as if this wasn’t a public bathroom. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind though, quite happy to watch me come undone just from a little teasing.

“It was the same for me,” I whispered, looking into his eyes and this time playing coy very much on purpose, licking my lips and batting my lashes to play it up, “Had to sit through the rest of the lecture while thinking about you in here. Was hell.” He snickered darkly, immediately catching onto my act.

He hummed, finger dragging across my lower lip, fascinated for a moment before he snapped back to himself, mouth pulling back into a smirk.

Without a warning his other hand moved lower, fingers tracing my entrance before two of them plunged inside. I moaned out, body seizing up at the sensation. I was wet enough that they went easy but there was still the pleasurable sting of being stretched out on two digits.

Yoongi certainly wasn’t the type to waste time. He hummed satisfied, watching me with those dark eyes, testing the waters with a few shallow pumps before he started finger-fucking me earnestly. Just like everything else, even now he wasn’t gentle, flicking his wrist up and pushing his fingers as far as they could go, curling them to scratch at that one magic spot that had me seeing white.

I whimpered loudly, hips gyrating to ride the motions, already feeling the stirrings of a powerful orgasm lurking on the horizon. Like a shark sensing blood Yoongi chuckled and twisted his fingers on the next thrust. I keened, hands flying up to tangle into his clothes and hair, hips jerking and chasing after the feeling.

“So selfish, kitten,” he tsked at me, still keeping his cool even though I could see his erection attempting to burst through his pants, “only thinking about your own pleasure. No respect for others, huh?”

My first instinct was to apologise, but I got choked up on the words when he started up his pace again, so instead I decided to be a woman of action. Slowly trailing my hand down his torso, feeling him up on the way, grabbing onto his chest, his slim waist, until I finally reached his crotch.

With the first touch he let out a light groan, fingers stuttering and eyes falling shut for a moment, then he was suddenly back onto me, kissing me wildly while his hips fucked into my hand, letting out gruff groans and sighs into my mouth, which I accepted gladly.

For a moment we were just lost in each other, not caring about the noise or the place, just pleasuring each other, touching, feeling. Then Yoongi was tearing away, hand flying from my pussy and stepping back. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that left me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his amused face.

Instead he grabbed me and turned me around until I was leaning on my arms on the wall behind the toilet, one leg up on the closed lid for support. I shivered in anticipation, knowing what would come next. Yoongi was moving about behind me, clothes shuffling and rustling. Then his sweater hit the floor. I turned my head to watch just as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver packet. He grinned at me and winked when catching my eye, then reached out to me, condom in hand.

“Can you hold this for me for a second, darling?” he asked as sweet as honey, but there was something devilish twinkling in his eye.

“Of course,” I answered him. I meant for it to be sassy, but it came out on a breathless whisper as I took the packet and watched Yoongi’s hand run through his hair before setting on his belt. He unbuckled slowly, attentively watching my eyes soaking in every second as he pulled the belt through the buckle and out of his pants. Fingers toyed with the button before popping it open, tongue wetting his lips and hungry eyes eating me up. I trembled under his attention but held still, not even breathing as his fingers grasped at the zipper and pulled it down.

Tired of playing, he pulled his tee out and put the hem between his teeth, revealing his taunt stomach and pretty waist. Winking at my obvious gawking, he finally pulled his jeans and underwear down, his erection springing free. The sight of him shocked me to my core, standing there with his t-shirt in his mouth and a smug glint his eye while he leisurely fisted his flushed red cock. I could feel my pussy gushing and clenching around nothing, desperately calling to be filled up.

Yoongi plucked the condom packet from my limp hand and made a quick work of putting it on. He lined up behind me, hands finding my waist to pull my tee from the skirt, making contact with bare skin.

I gasped when I felt his cock slide through my wet folds, but quickly keened and arched into it. One of Yoongi’s hands tightened on my waist while the other disappeared to grab his length.

“Easy now,” he chuckled at my trembling body, my hips chasing after his cock and trying to entice him into fucking me.

“Please,” was all I could get out of my mouth, “please Yoongi, just fuck me.” His hand tightened again and there was a beat of silence before he snickered.

“So you naughty girl do know my name,” he teased and I froze for a moment, embarrassment flooding me. I turned to him again to see him smirking at me, tee hanging off of his form. “I heard it around,” I whispered sheepishly. He hummed, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Not really fair, is it?” he teased some more, a mischievous expression taking over his face, “Is it, Y/N?” I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly and he grinned.

“Now, what’s your excuse, mister?” I asked him sassily, “Not like I’m a campus celebrity… unlike someone here.”

“May or may not have asked Jungkook cause I saw you two hanging out,” Yoongi admitted easily, laughing at me when I paled.

“God,” I groaned, “No wonder he was getting so cheeky whenever you came up in a conversation.” At that Yoongi raised his eyebrow again, amusement dancing on his features.

“That happen often?” he asked impishly, leaning against me and once again letting me feel his cock sliding through my folds. I gasped a little and blushed even darker. “You’re Namjoon’s friend, so occasionally,” I bold-faced lied straight through my teeth and from the look on Yoongi’s face, he was aware but let me get away with it.

There was a moment of silence where we just stared at each other, mischievous little smiles on our faces, and then Yoongi hummed, pulling his tee back up to his lips and biting down on it. I shuddered, the lust once again taking the fore-front seat in my mind. This time he didn’t stop for anything, grabbing himself with one hand and the other going to my waist to hold me in place.

The tip of his cock circled my entrance and I subconsciously clenched, a gush of wetness leaving me. I whined and wriggled in his hold and he tsked at me again before sliding inside in a single thrust with a light condescending giggle. I groaned, pussy immediately squeezing around the intrusion, feeling every inch and ridge. There was a hitch in Yoongi’s breaths, both hands migrating to my waist and grabbing so tightly I felt his nails digging into my skin.

He barely gave me a second before pulling out and thrusting in again, setting a rough pace from the get-go. All I could do was bury my head into the crook of my elbow, biting into the soft flesh there to keep myself from moaning loud enough for the whole school to hear.

The stretch of his cock was exquisite, the slight burn heating up my already sensitive body to a near boiling point. With every thrust there was a tiny twinge of pain that left me breathless, desperate to muffle any noise that could cut our meeting short.

Yoongi didn’t seem to care much about noise, hands on my waist mercilessly pulling me back onto his cock and fucking me with so much force I felt my whole body twitching with the overdrive of sensation, the slapping of our sweaty bodies against each other and the wet squelch of my weeping pussy getting filled to the brim loud enough to substitute for our own sounds. He was grunting gruffly, the noise seemingly leaving his mouth involuntarily and getting muffled by the tee.

I turned my head slightly to look at him, and god, he was a vision with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and face the picture of ecstasy, body rippling with the motion of his pumping hips and strong veiny arms and hands gripping onto me hard enough to go red with the force. I couldn’t hold back the moan and he toppled his head forward to look at me, a tired self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips at seeing my fucked out expression.

“Take your fucking shirt off,” I gasped out breathlessly, chuckling at his teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have such a dirty fucking mouth, can’t stand for it being shut.” Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back in delight. Within seconds the piece of fabric joined his sweater on the floor and he leaned forward, hands picking on my own shirt with a mischievous expression.

“Shouldn’t you even the score?” I loved how deep and gravelly his voice became with arousal, even when he was being mischievous I could hear the growl in it and it drove me crazy. I scrambled to listen to him, tearing the shirt off and flinging it behind us. Yoongi’s hands immediately travelled up, playing with the edge of my bra before swiftly undoing the clasp and dragging it off. I gasped lightly at his skilled handiwork and giggled, but Yoongi was already preoccupied with kissing along my shoulders and shoulder blades.

His hips angled better and then jerked them into me again, cock sliding even deeper now. I groaned and arched into him and that was his que to start fucking in earnest again. In this position I could hear the strained sighs and grunts every time he slid back inside, the rough deep pace taking a toll on us both.

The back of my thighs was burning from standing bent over and straining my hips for this long and it added to the mix of feelings running through me. I could feel my orgasm catching up with me, Yoongi’s cock now hitting a spot on every thrust that made me want to scream with pleasure, sliding in so deep I swore I could feel him in my belly and it was so good my head was spinning, and all that came out of me were raspy moans. Yoongi bit into my shoulder, grunts raising in octave, hands pulling at my body to meet his thrusts.

I prayed to god that the walls were thick enough to keep the sounds from escaping onto the hall. I knew that if someone stepped inside now, there would be no masking what was going on, we were both too gone for that, just chasing our pleasure.

I was so close, the weeks of build up and the foreplay and teasing making me delirious. There in that moment I just wished I could stay like this forever, to feel this delicious ecstasy for the rest of my life, but I was so close to snapping I just needed a little extra push even though my head was so high in the clouds wishing to be never brought down.

“Please Yoongi, god,” I choked out, “please, I’m so close.” That seemed to snap Yoongi back into his attitude again, but he couldn’t hide how affected he was too.

“What do you want, kitten, mm?” even he couldn’t talk properly through the gasps and grunts, but still tried to sound as cocky as possible. Instead of talking I grabbed his hand and brought it down between my legs.

Yoongi pressed himself to me closer to make the reach more comfortable, his chest glued to my back as he nibbled on my neck and shoulder, giggling breathlessly when his naughty fingers started drawing tight quick circles on my clit.

My moans got louder, the pumping of his cock, hitting so deep inside of me, combined with the stimulation on my clit made me seize up, whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook me. Yoongi groaned every time my pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper and closer to his own end. Both of us were so sweaty we stuck to each other, the temperature in the stall rising so high it was almost unbearable.

“Yoongi,” I gasped out, just repeating his name breathlessly as I barrelled to the climax, feeling the beginning of the tingling washing over me, pussy seizing up. Yoongi’s hands were like vice on my body, my waist littered with red indents of his nails, some already purpling slightly.

“I know, kitten,” he whispered into my neck, “Me too, you can let go.” The moment those words left his mouth my orgasm exploded over me, enough to blind me and send my ears ringing for a few moments. I let out a raspy groan, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wall and if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s hold on me, my buckling knees would have sent me crashing to the floor, but all I could focus on was the euphoria blooming through my body, flooding all my senses with so much pleasure I could barely fully register anything that was going on. Yoongi fucked me through the peak, hips losing rhythm and all decorum until finally he gave last few hard pumps and stilled too, coming with a drawn-out moan, hands pushing our hips as close together as they could go.

We clung onto each other as we attempted to catch our breaths again. I felt my arms slipping on the tiles as the pleasant ache started setting into my hips and lower tummy, legs screaming for a reprieve as my brain slowly came back into function. I blinked my eyes open, not even realising I had closed them at some point. Yoongi was basically hugging me from the behind, draped over me just breathing deep, faced smushed into my shoulder blade. Then he chuckled.

“You think we’re still in the clear?” he laughed, “How thick do you think these walls are?” A giggle tumbled out of me and before I knew it we were both laughing breathlessly, bodies still pressed close.

“This is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, shaky knees trying to keep my weight as I started to gather my wits. Yoongi let me go easily and helped me find my balance as my whole body ached, back killing me after Yoongi railed me like a madman.

“And here I was, thinking this was just regular Tuesday for you.”

I slapped his shoulder lightly, but the blush on my cheeks revealed that I couldn’t really say anything to that. His amused snickers told me he was well aware, so I just stood there and watched him slip the condom off, tie it up and then just awkwardly stand there not knowing what to do with it.

“Guess I can’t just casually drop a used condom into a bin in the girl’s bathroom,” he stated nonchalantly, and I giggled at him. In the end he grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and hid it inside, putting in on the closed bin lid for the moment.

Next Yoongi swiftly cleaned himself up and pulled his jeans back on, but when I reached for the paper to do the same, he swatted my hand away. With a much gentler smile he got it himself, kneeled in front of me and started cleaning me up, gently wiping away the mess left on my centre and thighs. I watched him attentively, the soft look on his face making him look boyish, only the naughty glint in his eyes reminiscent of the man he was just a few minutes ago.

When our eyes met, I returned the smile, hand instinctively going to tangle into his hair. I meant to just card it through the dark wavy locks, but the heated look he gave me had me shuddering again, fingers tightening. Yoongi smirked, tongue licking at his lips sensually just inches away from my exposed pussy.

“Still thinking about naughty things, kitten?” he said, voice dark and deep, “Like the sight of me on my knees for you?” I hesitated for a moment before untangling my hand and gently pushing him with a blush.

“I see,” Yoongi hummed thoughtfully, “maybe next time then.” With a wink he stood up and when I didn’t move he motioned for me to start dressing up with a smirk, handing me my bra and t-shirt. We slowly clambered out of the stall, stretching and trying to get all the body parts to working order again.

“How about,” Yoongi drawled out, self-assured and with the attitude of someone who just got their rocks off, “you ditch the lecture you never really go to anyway and we grab something to eat?” I stopped in my tracks, shocked but pleasantly surprised at his offer. I checked the time quickly.

“There’s only like 10 minutes of class left, I can sit that out and then we can go,” I answered, smiling softly, but Yoongi smirked with all his might, something devilish glinting over his face. He leaned towards me, grabbing me lightly by my shoulders.

“Not looking like that, you can’t,” he whispered meanly and spun me around. The moment I laid my eyes on myself in the mirror, I gasped. Yoongi was standing behind me grinning like the devil admiring his handiwork. My neck was littered in little bites and spots ranging from dark pink across red all the way to purple. Yoongi let out a satisfied hum, almost sounding like a purr, his hands going across my waist to pull at the tee tucked into my skirt to reveal more reddish purplish bruises from his fingers.

I turned in his arms and slapped his shoulder lightly, completely flustered by his antics. “How can I walk out of here now? Everyone will know what I’d been doing instead of sitting at the lecture,” I whined, more embarrassed than angry, but Yoongi’s laughing face was totally free of any remorse, “I look like someone beat me up.”

The man said nothing, just pulled me closer to kiss me gently. I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before I whined again: “I don’t even have a scarf with me today.” He burst out laughing and patted my hip softly.

“I’ll get your stuff, you wait here,” he whispered conspiratorially and with one last wink he was gone. It took him only three minutes to stick his head back into the bathroom, looking a little ruffled and a lot amused.

“I suggest we get going fast, I’m afraid a guy leaving the ladies restroom isn’t as inconspicuous as I wished it was,” he got out quickly, smirking impishly and handing me my coat. I tried to wear it in a way that covered most of the marks, but it was futile, more than half of my neck still on full display.

I walked out of the bathroom the same moment the door to my classroom opened and students started filing out. Yoongi exchanged a single glance with me before we both took off, running down the stairs like we were being chased, only stopping once the building doors slammed shut behind us.

“Jimin’s café?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, still trying to get his strength back and leaning on his knees. I grinned at him and grabbed his hand, already pulling him in the right direction.

“Sure, let’s go!”

Bonus:

“Holy shit! The fuck happened to you?” Jimin exclaimed loudly enough for the whole café to hear the moment he saw me walk through the door. Jungkook and Tae, who were sitting at a small table near the counter to keep Jimin company while he had his shift, turned to look at me only for Kookie to promptly spit out whatever he was drinking.

“Holy shit!” I gave him an unimpressed look and walked up to Jimin to order.

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I side-eyed him sassily, but Jungkook was grinning mischievously, a knowing glint in his eye. I flushed under his gaze and looked away at which he started laughing loudly.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you actually did it,” he giggled, properly entertained by the situation and by my embarrassment. Tae was watching it all unfold, confused look on his face.

“Did what?” Jimin asked, similarly confused.

As if on cue the door opened again and Yoongi stepped in, ignoring everyone currently staring at him and walking straight to me, arm curling around my waist to pull me closer to him. He bent down slightly to whisper in my ear: “Got rid of the evidence successfully.”

“Holy shit!” This time it was Tae who screamed, coming full circle. I gave their smug smiling faces an annoyed glare and turned to Jimin to order again, but he was trying to conceal his grin behind his hand. Even more vexed I turned to Yoongi who was smirking smugly like a cat who got all the cream, hand possessively squeezing at my bruised waist.

“On second thoughts, we shouldn’t have come here,” I said to no one in particular, then turning my narrowed eyes at the man of the hour himself, “and wipe that smirk off your face, mister.” There were giggles from the boys all around us, but Yoongi just swooped down and kissed me softly, then pushed us closer towards the counter.

Jimin cleared his throat and tried to put on a professional expression, but there was mirth in his eyes that I just knew I was going to get all the teasing later. Tae and Kookie cleared out the mess at the table and made space for us to sit down, one looking more amused than the other.

I gave them both the stink eye and ignored them, checking my phone instead, trying to reply to all the messages I’ve missed in the last hour. Around me there was silence, everyone just sitting there looking at each other grinning, before Jungkook cleaned his throat and exclaimed:

“God, fucking finally! Thought Yoongi-hyung was gonna talk my ear off about you!”

“Kookie!” There was a pretty blush spreading on Yoongi’s cheeks, a polar opposite to the cocksure man that was railing my brains out 20 minutes ago. I giggled and squeezed his arm. He gave in easily, leaning towards me.

Then he set his eyes on Jungkook and narrowed them teasingly. “We’re gonna settle that later you brat.”

#kpop fic #kpop smut #kpop fluff #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #suga fic #yoongi fic #suga smut #suga fluff #suga x reader

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hanniebaeee · 3 months ago

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Lil' Lix - Christmas Love

Pixie Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: Nothing other than lots of fluffy flufff!

Genre: fantasy au!, established relationship, FLUFFFF!

Summary: Winter is here, and it's also Felix's first Christmas with you!

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

a/n: I don't know if I've ever written such a fluffy thing ever 😅 Pixie Felix is a weakness, and this one is very close to my heart... Enjoy!!

Part 1

For someone who once lived in a magical, sunlit glade, winter in a concrete jungle was literally a nightmare for Felix, your pixie lover. He was currently swaddled in a cocoon of blankets, being dramatic as hell.

His cute freckled nose peeked out as he glanced at you, giving a pitiful sniffle.

"Y/N," Felix whined, his voice muffled. "This is it. When I’m gone, will you cry pretty tears for me? Will you make a little shrine to honor our love?”

“Babe, you’re not dying.” You said with a grin. “You’re just melodramatic.”

“No, I’m serious,” he insisted, glaring at you with the last shred of his dignity. “The frost has claimed me. This winter will be my end.”

You sighed, brushing a strand of his golden hair back. He was up in a second, his shimmery wings fluttering as he moved to nestled into your neck. He rubbed his face against your warm skin and you flinched as his cold nose grazed you.

"Felix!"

"You’re so warm," he murmured, his lips brushing against you. "Did you eat a fire crystal as a child? Are you secretly a fire spirit?!"

"No, I’m just not tiny, Lixie," you said, nudging him gently.

Felix huffed, crossing his arms, mumbling, “Lucky you.”

---

Though you joked about this, you knew Felix was genuinely struggling with the cold, and every night his icy little hands and feet snuggled against you, making you jump with the chills.

You had to come up with something (no Barbie clothes didn't help, thank you), so that his threats of “using the last of his magic to ignite himself” could be taken off the scene.

That’s when you had a brilliant idea - knit him some clothes.

You pulled up a beginner’s YouTube tutorial, grabbed some yarn, and got to work. It wasn’t pretty. The first few attempts were disastrous. But then, things got better. You couldn't help but squeal in delight, because it was just that cute!

Felix, perched on a spool of yarn, watched your progress with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at the long needles in your hands with suspicion.

“Making you clothes,” you said, focused on a particularly tricky stitch.

“Wait, you can make clothes?” He tilted his head, a strand of golden hair falling into his freckled face. “Like, you don’t just summon them or something?”

“Baby, have you seen me summon anything?”

Felix tapped his chin. “You've got a point. Carry on, my love.”

---

After a few days of hard work, you held up your creations: tiny sweaters, hats, mittens, socks, and even a scarf. They weren’t perfect - one mitten was slightly bigger than the other, and the beanie did look a little weird - but they were warm and made with love.

“Y/N, these are… these are…” Felix’s voice cracked, and he placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “Is this what love feels like?”

“Come here, you drama queen. Let’s try these on.” You laughed, holding up a sweater.

He hovered in front of you, wings fluttering as you slid the sweater over his head (you even made slits for his wings). The snug fabric hugged his tiny frame, and his freckled cheeks glowed pink as you tugged the beanie into place.

“Well?” you asked, sitting back to admire your work.

Felix spun in the air, his hands running over the soft yarn.

“I love it! I love it!! It's so warm!!” Felix sang in happiness. “I'm not cold anymore!!”

“You look like a cozy little marshmallow, Lixie” you teased, and he grinned brightly before flying straight into your face and cupping your cheeks with his tiny hands.

“You did all this for me? Y/N, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Like, ever.” he said gazing into your eyes lovingly.

“Anything for you, baby,” you said, his sincerity making your heart swell.

He pressed kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips, so many all at once.

“I love you so much. You’re so smart and sexy -”

“And a terrible knitter,”

“No, no. You’re a brilliant knitter. These are perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not allowed to ever leave me.” Felix announced, pressing a soft kiss on your upper lip. “Ever.”

“Wow. Bold.” you said, raising your eyebrows.

“You love me,” Felix said smugly, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“Yeah,” you admitted softly. “I really do.”

You usually put up a fake tree. Easier to manage and all that. But this year, you decided to bring in a real tree, because you wanted Felix to have a really authentic experience. His first ever Christmas. So you go out with your friend Minho and get one.

The tree stood tall in the corner of your living room, its fresh pine scent filling the air.

Fairy lights were strewn across the floor, and the table was piled up with ornaments, tinsel, and glittery decorations. Felix’s eyes glittered with joy as he eyed all the sparkly decorations like they were treasure.

“Wait, so people just… bring a tree inside their house for this holiday?” Felix asked, hovering in front of you with wide, curious eyes. “And decorate it with shiny stuff?”

“Yes,” you said with a laugh, untangling the lights. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

Felix held up a glittery star ornament that was almost as big as he was.

“This is amazing!” he sang, clutching the star to his chest.

“Well, I did pick the sparkliest ones for you,” you teased, glancing over at him. “I thought you’d like them.”

“I love them. This is already my favorite holiday!!”

---

Once the lights were finally untangled, Felix took it upon himself to help string them around the tree. And he also wanted to hang the ornaments (he didn't want to part with the glittery stars and baubles).

He zoomed around the tree, carefully hanging them, occasionally stopping to admire his work.

“Do they have to be evenly spaced?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Well, not really…”

“Great, because I’m putting all the shiny ones in one spot,” he announced, clustering the most glittery ornaments on a single branch.

“Felix, no!”

“But it looks so sparkly!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he held up another ornament. He was glowing - his eyes twinkling under the fairy lights. It was impossible to scold him when he looked so genuinely happy.

When he was finally done, it was time for the tree topper.

“This goes on the very top. Do you want to do the honors?” you asked, handing him the golden star.

He grinned and took the star, clutching it like it was the most precious thing in the world. He flitted up to the top of the tree, and carefully placed the star.

“All done!” he called, before flying back to admire the sparkling tree. “Y/N, this is amazing.”

“I'm so glad you liked it, Lixie.” You said with a smile. “Your first Christmas should be absolutely magical,”

Felix floated back down to you, his tiny hands resting on your cheeks. “You’re magical.”

“Oh, please,” you said, laughing as you blushed under his adoring gaze.

“No, I mean it,” he said softly. “You didn’t have to do all this, but you did. You brought a whole tree into our home just so I could experience this holiday with you. You’re the best, baby.”

You cupped his tiny hands in yours, smiling.

“And you make everything feel magical, Felix. So, I guess we’re even.”

Spending Christmas with Felix had been a truly beautiful experience, because he was in awe of absolutely everything. The food, the hot chocolate (which he demanded every ten minutes, because why not), the snow and obviously, the tree.

And then came the gifts. Felix snuggled closer to your neck in his knitted sweater, vibrating with excitement. His wings fluttered so fast as you reached for the little package you knew he had put under the trees last night.

“Open it, open it!” he chirped, his cheeks glowing.

You smiled, carefully unwrapping the small, neatly tied package. When the paper fell away, you gasped.

Inside was a necklace - a delicate pendant shaped like a heart, intricately carved from what looked like wood but felt so smooth and otherworldly. Within its center, nestled in a cavity of swirling patterns, was a tiny, glimmering stone. When light caught it just right, it shimmered.

“Felix…” Your voice was barely a whisper as you turned to him, wide-eyed. “This is… this is pixie magic, isn’t it?”

Felix looked shy but proud, scratching the back of his head as his wings fluttered nervously.

“Yes,” he admitted softly. “It’s not much - nothing like the magic I could make back home. But I’ve been working on it for a while. I wanted it to be perfect.”

Your heart squeezed. You knew how difficult it was for him to conjure magic in the city, so far from his enchanted home. It drained him and left him fatigued to use his magic. This pendant wasn’t just a gift; it was his love.

“It’s more than perfect,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. You slipped the necklace over your head, the pendant settling against your chest snugly. “Felix, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Before he could respond, you leaned in, cupping his tiny face in your hands and pressing a soft, lingering kiss on top of his head. Felix’s wings fluttered madly as his cheeks turned a deep shade of pink.

“Okay, your turn!” you said, grinning as you placed a larger, carefully wrapped box in front of him.

Felix blinked, his pink cheeks still flushed from your kiss. “For me?”

“Of course. Go on, open it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With his tiny hands, he tore through the wrapping paper, his curiosity growing with every layer he peeled back. When he finally lifted the lid, his reaction was epic.

He froze and his mouth fell open, because inside the box was a miniature garden - a lush, vibrant fairy garden filled with tiny plants.

There were cuttings of honeysuckle, foxglove, thyme, and other herbs and flowers you’d researched and found to be dear to pixies. Patches of soft, rich moss filled the gaps, creating a miniature glade that looked as if it had been plucked straight from Felix’s home in the woods.

Felix’s hands trembled as he reached out to touch the moss.

“This… this is…” His voice broke, and you could see that he was trying to keep tears from falling.

“I know you miss home, Lixie,” you said softly. “I tried to make it as close to it as I could. I thought maybe this could help...till we find a way...”

“You made this?” Felix turned to you, his honey-brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Yes, baby,” you said, your heart aching to see the pain in his eyes. “You deserve to feel at home, Felix.”

He let out a shaky laugh, clutching a tiny cutting of honeysuckle to his chest.

“You knit for me. You make me hot chocolate. You let me take over your Christmas tree. And now this?” His wings fluttered wildly again as he shook his head in disbelief. “You’re… you’re perfect. I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, laughing softly.

“No, seriously,” Felix insisted, floating up to meet your gaze. “You’re my wife now. That’s it. Decision made. I don’t care what human traditions you have - we’re married.”

You burst out laughing, cupping your hand around him to gently hug his tiny frame. “Oh, we are, aren't we?”

“Yes!” he declared, his freckled cheeks glowing again. “You’re mine. Forever. I’m never letting you go.”

But the best gift of all?

Waking up to the sound of soft singing. It took you a moment to realize the voice was coming from your balcony. Sleepily, you shuffled over and peeked through the glass door, careful not to make a sound.

There he was - Felix, hovering over one of your plants that, its leaves glistening with dew. Felix was holding a tiny little watering can - you’d put it in his garden as you'd made it - and carefully collecting drops of dew from the larger potted plants.

He tilted the can to sprinkle water gently over the moss and flowers in his garden, his movements slow and careful.

“Good morning, honeysuckle,” he sang, brushing a tiny hand over a leaf. “You’re looking lovely today. And you, foxglove -”

His voice was warm and full of love as he spoke, and he sang softly in a language you didn’t recognize. It was so melodic, weaving through the air like a magical breeze.

Your heart clenched at the sight. He was so utterly devoted to his little world, the kind of magic you couldn’t put into words, the kind that made you want to hold him tight and never let go.

With a soft smile, you made your way back to bed, because your heart was full knowing that he was happy. And you drifted off to sleep again feeling completely blessed.

Tags: @velvetmoonlght @moonchild9350

#stray kids #skz #lee felix #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #lee felix x reader #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #pixie felix

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osamucide · 4 days ago

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WHAT THEIR LOVE FEELS LIKE . . .

. . . ft. select BLLK men

⊹ YOICHI ISAGI . . . the sound of the ocean, seeing a shooting star, promise rings, iced tea on a hot day, being unable to sleep because you're excited about something, magnetic attraction, clinking flutes of sparkly champagne, blueberry and pomegranate, wishing so hard it feels like prayer

⊹ MEGURU BACHIRA . . . matching keychains, bandaids with doodles on them, dollar bills folded into hearts, sugar cookies, initials in sidewalk chalk hearts, nostalgic music, messy scrapbooks full of love, jumping in the pool with clothes on, kisses to transfer lip balm, dandelion and lemongrass

⊹ HYOMA CHIGIRI . . . red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting, familiar smells, fresh cut fruit, city sunsets, tucking a flower behind a lover’s ear, a butterfly landing on you, getting ready to your favorite music, pink azaleas, laying in the bath with a good book, the bubblegum at the center of a lollipop

⊹ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI . . . warm honey, beams of sunlight through blinds, sitting in front of a campfire, sourdough bread with pretty designs cut into it, brown sugar and syrup, the sweet messages on teabag tags, “this reminded me of you,” gentle hands on both sides of your face

⊹ SHOUEI BAROU . . . your lover’s laundry mixed with yours, cucumber and lemon, shoulder massages, green grass after a thunderstorm, being excited to give someone a gift, an animal’s fluffy tail in the shape of a heart, grabbing onto someone’s arm while you stumble, perfect omelettes

⊹ SEISHIRO NAGI . . . a head tucked beneath a chin, jeans that fit just right, the cold side of the pillow, powdered sugar, getting off work or out of class early, hot cocoa, pulling your arms into your sweater for warmth, tearing an orange in half to share, doves cooing, sonny angels

⊹ REO MIKAGE . . . lavender lemonade, expensive chardonnay, an arm around your waist, securing a piece of jewelry on someone else, “you’ve got me wrapped around your finger,” crushed velvet, your lover bragging about you to their friends, the beginning of the weekend, cherry blossom petals

⊹ RIN ITOSHI . . . movies on vhs, “not a lot, just forever,” graham cracker crust, root beer floats with two straws, kept promises, flowers left in the handle of your car door, talking on the phone early in the morning, sharing an umbrella, sleeping in the curve of a crescent moon, cinnamon and clove

⊹ SAE ITOSHI . . . your lover’s initial on your jewelry, fast rides in sleek cars, vanilla and raspberry, rose petal trails that lead to sweet surprises, whipped cream vodka, heart-shaped ponds, private but not secret, naming stars after each other, red string of fate, blindly finding your lover’s hand in the dark

⊹ OLIVER AIKU . . . “kissing a man without a mustache is like eating an egg without salt,” brushing your teeth next to your lover, candid photos, warm summer wind, linking ankles beneath the table, dark chocolate with sea salt, finding your lucky number in a fortune cookie, sandalwood and musk

⊹ ALEXIS NESS . . . heart-shaped sweets, getting lost in a big library, hugs where neither person wants to let go, strawberry ice cream, myths and fairytales from childhood, knuckle kisses, fresh rosemary and basil, making up a language with someone, halloween parties, feeling tipsy off soju

⊹ MICHAEL KAISER . . . ridiculously large bouquets of flowers, matching tattoos, cherry juice, short affectionate messages on postcards, spiced rum and peppermint, a possessive hand on the small of your back, the smell of rain, a pet preferring your presence over someone else’s, bubble baths with candles

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #barou x reader #nagi x reader #reo x reader #itoshi rin x reader #sae x reader #aiku x reader #alexis ness x reader #kaiser x reader #bllk headcanons #blue lock hcs #blue lock fluff #with love—reid

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xoxochb · 2 months ago

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percy jackson m. list part three ୨୧ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

♪ ༘⋆ you’ll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

blurbs ✧˖°

. laying underneath his sweatshirt

. sweater weather smut ꨄ︎

. he likes making dirty jokes

. he is your christmas present

. reader chokes on the shower water

. percy is ur average horny teenager

. misc make-out blurb

. percy w stubble

. fluffy aftercare

. he helps you put on your winter clothes

. he braids your hair

. he is clingy

. he has a blue cookie obsession

. multi topic smut blurb ꨄ︎

. sick fic

. percabeth cabin scene w reader instead ꨄ︎

. percy is stupid also you rub his legs

. two silly lovers

. your his plus one to sally + paul wedding

. he fingers u because his hands r cold ꨄ︎

. you paint your nails blue

. heads or tails

. he’s ur average idiot

. he feels u up when u try to sleep

. sweet girl loves his muscles

. hot tub make out

. percy w sick! reader

. he loves ur tits

. threesome w jason + sweet girl ꨄ︎

. percy being percy

. playing in the snow

. falling asleep on ur tits (ft. jason)

. random sleepy blurb

. angry sex ꨄ︎

. misc rainy night blurb part two

. random blurb

. untitled/misc

. babydoll lingerie

. sweet girl matches percy’s freak (finally)

. you meet estelle

. you use shockwaves on him ꨄ︎

. you recounter your days

. he buys u a dumb peanut stuffie

. u both have drooling issues

. rubbing ur clit ꨄ︎

. ice cream

. cowboy! percy smut ꨄ︎

. bath

. he’s a lil stupid

. random blurb

. for satan (very dark themes) ꨄ︎

. you beat him up yippee!

. braiding

. marshmallows

. face riding ꨄ︎

. cowboy! percy and tiramisu

. you eat ice cream

. sweet girl momentarily is nice to percy

. you missed him

. vampire! percy

. jellycats

. weirdo bf

. snow

. aftercare

. silly blurb

. sleepy percy

. idk

. another silly blurb

. sweet girl bites her nails

misc ✧˖°

. reader wears his initial necklace (implied smut) ꨄ︎

. kinks they have ꣑ৎ

. spider-man! percy au series (eventual ꨄ︎)

. this freaky thought of mine ꨄ︎

. post sex w him thoughts

. aftercare

. he sleeps with the sea animals

#xoxochb #writing in my room ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#the obsession is so very real #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo #percy series #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you

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spnbabe67 · 5 months ago

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Knee Deep In The Passenger Seat

Kinktober Day 1: Road Head (D.W)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Oral (M. Receiving), slight mentions of blood, face fucking, hair gripping?, perilous situation?

Summary: What does one do when they have a free afternoon? Tori and Dean go driving. What happens when ones love language is acts of (sexual) service.

Word Count: 1510

It was rare to have a day like this. Tori couldn't remember the last time she and Dean had an afternoon that wasn't preoccupied with lore research, various repairs to the Bunker or assisting other hunters on cases ranging from basic salt and burns to exterminating whole nests of vamps. The stars had finally aligned and for the first time in a while, Tori and Dean found their afternoon wide open for leisure. So when Dean showed up at her doorway with Baby’s keys dangling from his fingers, Tori couldn't get up from her desk fast enough.

Tori had lost track of how long she and Dean had been cruising the open backroads. The only break in miles and miles of gold fields was the occasional cars. She'd fallen asleep sprawled across the front seat around the 2 hour mark, head lolled back against the windowsill, lower legs draped across Dean's thighs.

That was where she woke some amount of time later, the leather of the seat creaking as she stretched awake. Tori felt Dean's warm hand squeeze her calf, running his calloused palms up and down her shins. She shot him a sleepy grin reaching her arms up and out the window in a languid movement.

It was an unusually chilly early fall day, so the crisp wind whipped through the car, teasing goosebumps across Tori's bare arms. Her legs were kept warm enough via her jeans and the residual heat from Dean's legs and hands, but she'd opted to wear a cutoff tank in lieu of Dean's suggestion for a sweater. Sure she was a little on the cold side, but her pride wouldn't let her accept the jacket he'd offered her on multiple occasions.

Tori blinked sleepily at her lover, admiring the way the golden glow of the midafternoon sun clung to every topographic feature of his face, how it crested over the bridge of his nose, stippling across his 5 o’clock shadow. The wind had swept his brown locks in a way that Tori knew would feel positively divine were she to reach up and run her fingers through it like she so desperately wanted to.

“Sleep well, my love?” God, even his voice was sexy.

Tori hummed a noncommittal answer, not bothering to hide the way her eyes dragged over Dean’s form, even when he looked over at her.

“What?” Dean laughed, eyes flashing between Tori and the road before him.

“Nothin’” Tori grinned cheekily, ignoring the loss of warmth as she pulled her legs from Dean’s lap and under herself instead to sit cross-legged next to him. “I can't admire my sexy ass boyfriend?”

Dean laughed sheepishly and Tori watched the telltale rosy hue stain his cheekbones. “I didn’t say that.”

Tori carded her fingers through his hair, letting her nails gently scratch his scalp, the strands extra fluffy from his shower that morning. Dean’s hum of contentedness reached her ears and Tori felt the rush of satisfaction at pleasing her lover. Speaking of which… Tori glanced sidelong out the windshield seeing nothing but open road, a devious idea flooding her brain. With a smirk, Tori leaned forward, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Dean's neck, her hand in his hair continuing its movements.

Tori felt Dean go stiff and liquid all at once, hearing the creak of the leather as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Tor,” Dean began, her name half warning half moan. “Whatcha doin babe.”

Tori didn’t deign to reply, simply smiling against his neck as she kissed the spot beneath his ear, her lips trailing south. Her teeth nipped at his pulsepoint, sucking a dark mark against his tan skin. Somewhere along the way Dean had tipped his head to the side, providing her better access. Tori let her free hand that had been resting on Dean’s chest wander down, feeling the soft skin that laid taut over the muscles of his torso until she arrived at the button of his jeans. That was when Dean’s hand shot to hers, encompassing her wrist and hindering any further movement.

“Tori.” Dean scolded her half convincingly, his voice breathy, chest rising and falling shallowly.

“Do you trust me?” Tori whispered into his ear, lips caressing the shell as she shook off his grasp. “‘Cause I trust you.”

Dean didn’t make any further moves to stop her as Tori expertly undid the button of his jeans, sliding her hand between the fabric and his feverish skin. Dean’s gasp as Tori’s hand wrapped around his length shot heat directly to her core. He was already half hard beneath her grasp as she ran her hand up and down his length before pulling him free from his boxers. Tori spared a glance upward as she shimmied herself backwards, bracing one knee on the footwell, the other stretched out under her as she lay on her stomach. His eyes were laser focused on the road, his hands locked in death grips on the wheel. His bottom lip was raw from the abuse of his teeth gnawing on it, likewise his cheeks were flushed pink.

Tori felt the car swerve sharply as her tongue made contact with the swollen red tip of Dean’s cock. She knew it was mean to torture him, kitten licking at the top of his dick, the tang of precum soaking into her tongue. Dean made a desperate sound at the back of his throat as Tori’s hand lazily pumped up and down his shaft as her tongue worked the head of his cock, dipping into the slit at the apex and tracing every contour. His hand shot to the back of her head, fisting in her hair as without warning Tori let his cock slide along her tongue and into her mouth.

Expletives spewed from her lover's mouth in the form of a guttural moan as her mouth engulfed his cock, feeling the fat head of it nudge the back of her throat. Dean’s grip in her hair loosened, rubbing the back of her head in small circles, a silent apology for his accidental roughness. Tori languidly bobbed her head up and down on his length, utilizing her hand slick with her spit for whatever her mouth couldn’t quite take in. Tori could feel her own arousal soak into her underwear, her clit throbbing almost in time to the grunts and groans slipping past Dean’s lips. Tori gagged slightly as Dean's hips snapped up slightly, chasing her mouth wrapped around him. She blinked back tears, her free hand digging into his thigh to steady herself. She half wondered if she could cum just like this, with her lover's cock shoved down her throat, his big hand tangled in her hair guiding her head up and down; it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten off pleasing Dean.

Dean’s hips thrusted up to meet her as she willed her throat to relax, gradually taking almost all of him past her lips. Tori couldn’t help but moan as Dean gave a particularly harsh tug on her hair, sending vibrations down his shaft that had him uttering a low moan. Every so often the car would snap back to center, shifting Tori ever so slightly. Just as Tori felt her jaw start to become sore, the steady rhythm of Dean’s thrusts into her mouth stuttered, his rhythm becoming sloppy, his hand more forceful on the back of her head. Tori let him fuck her face, feeling tears slip down her cheeks as she resisted the urge to gag against his cock bumping against the back of her throat.

Dean’s hips stuttered violently as he came with a ragged moan down her throat. Tori tried to swallow all his spend but some frothed out the side of her mouth as she pulled off of him. She went to wipe the residual cum off her face but before she could Dean’s hand still tangled in her hair guided her back up, slamming her lips to his own. Tori barely registered Dean driving the Impala off to the side of the road, slamming Baby into park before hauling her into his lap. His tongue assaulted her mouth, tasting himself on her tongue. His hands massaged her hips through her jeans, kissing her harshly like he had wanted to since she started on his neck.

He pulled back only on the lack of oxygen, both of them breathing heavily. Dean reached up caressing Tori’s cheek as he gazed at her, a soft look etched across his face. Tori’s eyes scanned his face, her own hand coming up to cup his jaw, thumb dragging across his lower lip where he’d dug his teeth in hard enough to draw blood. “What?”

“Nothin’,” Dean smiled at her tipping his head into her hand, his grip on her waist holding her to him. “I can’t admire my sexy ass girlfriend.”

Tori giggled at his words mimicking hers, leaning in to kiss the wound on his lip. “I love you.” She murmured into his mouth. Dean’s answering kiss was all she needed.

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural dean #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean and tori #dean x tori #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #dean winchester smut

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minhosimthings · 1 year ago

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Prideful

Synopsis: You never thought that Lee Heeseung, the man who had proven you wrong in the subject you were best at, would be fucking you on the classroom floor, but here you were.

Pairings: Heeseung × fem!reader, sort of enemies hate sex, includes Sunoo from Enha, and Soojin

Warnings: Smut with plot in the beginning, MINORS DNI, fluffy in the beginning, mention of food, degradation, praise, fingering, oral (f receiving), sex on the floor, unprotected sex (not for you bubs), rough sex, overstimulation, swearing, Heeseung calls reader princess and doll, open ending my babies have fun with that

A/N: idea came into my brain and I thought I'd forget about it and just added it to my wip list but then I was like NOPE IMMA WRITE THIS SHIT. So this makes my third smut for Heeseung (idk why I'm writing only smut for him) enjoy it y'all

Jane Austen once wrote an entire fanfic about enemies to lovers, slow burn, and she thought no one would notice. Well almost no one. Nothing ever gets out of the eyes and pens of literature majors does it? Especially not out of hardcore Jane Austen fans like yourself.

You must have analysed that godforsaken piece of literature atleast a thousand times since you recieved it as a gift for your birthday. And every single time, you failed to understand how such a love could be possible. I mean come on, a man and woman who hate each other, falling in love with each other? Either Jane Austen must have been a reincarnation of Aphrodite, or a madwoman who still kept faith in love.

Your heart nearly exploded when your professor had assigned a full fledged essay-presentation, costing half your grade on Pride and Prejudice. "Explore your opinion!" She had called out cheerfully, "Tell me what your heart truly feels about this beautiful piece and I'll give you a full half grade and no assignments for the rest of the semester." The class gasped in excitement at her words as you pretended to be interested. Internally, you were groaning. Wasting half of your night to make a presentation about a book you hold no love for? The universe really was against you. You picked your books up dejectedly and walked towards the entrance, shoulders hunched and music at a higher level of noise than it should have been at.

"Oh shit!" You cursed, dropping your books at the sudden interruption. A flurry of blue wool flooded in your face, as you leaned down quickly to pick up your fallen books and phone. "I'm so sorry." You apologised not looking up at whoever you crashed into. "It's alright." A voice responded back, and you looked up to see him. Lee Heeseung. You had seen him a few times in class, heard him actually. With his pristine glasses, and his woolen sweaters, he was the definition of a movie nerd. He was actually smart, you had to admit, always quick to respond to the questions that you had no idea about. Best in the class after you, according to your professor. Although his choice of literature slightly weirded you out. You often spotted him sprawled out under a tree, holding Pride and Prejudice to his nose, deeply engrossed in taking in each word.

"Is that The Neighborhood you're listening to?" Heeseung asked, as he handed you your phone, which he had picked up before you had the chance to. "Do you have an ear for them?" You asked, taking the phone from him. His hands felt soft, like the first snow when you were eight. Heeseung shook his and chuckled. "I'm more of a Arctic Monkeys person." You smiled awkwardly and shuffled your feet. "To each his own then."

"Macbeth." Heeseung said, before you could escape from the conversation. "I'm sorry?" You questioned, confused at his sudden outburst. "That line's from Macbeth." Heeseung sent another smile your way, pushing his glasses up from his nose, "Polonius says it, 'To each his own'." You felt a pang of jealousy hit your chest. You didn't know where that line was from. Of course, what normal person would know the origin of a common idiom?

"Cool." Your laugh was not without a tint of awkwardness. "Well-" Heeseung shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "Bye then." "Bye." You bid each other goodbye and rushed off in opposite directions, not wanting to be stuck in another neverending loop of conversation.

"Don't tell me you actually talked with The Lee Heeseung." Your roommate Soojin laughed, accidentally smearing some turquoise nail polish onto your thigh. You quickly wiped it off with a tissue before frowning at Soojin. "It's not a big deal." You scoffed, having another slice of pizza, "I mean he's just a guy. Kinda nerdy actually"

Soojin burst out laughing again, this time shutting her nail polish close. She gasped for air as she pulled out her phone and showed you a picture of a what looked like a frat party. "Girl-" she got up from her leaning position, "Nerdy is the worst way to describe Lee Heeseung. I'm telling you-" she picked up the last slice of pizza, "-he's the playboy representative of this college."

"Oh come on." You scoffed again, getting up to go to the bathroom, "Stop joking around." Soojin shrugged her shoulders as you disappeared into the bathroom. "Whatever you say."

The next day, you strolled into your favourite cafe with your laptop, headphones, a copy of Pride and Prejudice, money in your pocket, a sketchbook, and a positive mindset. Always need one to write an essay right? You were thankful that it wasn't raining today like it had been for the past few weeks.

The cafe was mostly empty, with a few medical students drinking coffee to their death, as they always did. You walked up to the counter, where you saw your friend Sunoo, working his shift.

"Y/N hey!" He flashed his bright smile at you, putting down the glass he had been cleaning. "Hey sun." You clapped back, leaning in front of the counter, "The usual please." Sunoo nodded his head and started to prepare your drink. "So I've heard something." He put on his mischievous smile, one that he often wore when he had gossip on his fingers. "Please tell me it's not about that girl from Chem again." You sighed, as he put a coffee cup down in front of you. "No it's about you dumbass." Sunoo scoffed, taking the money you handed him, "I heard you bumped into Lee Heeseung." You let out a groan at his words, and quickly grabbed your drink, going off to sit in the corner. "Yah take your change!" Sunoo shouted after you to which you shouted back, "Keep it! Your broke ass needs it anyway!"

You didn't get the chance to see Sunoo giving you the stink eye, as you plopped down on the comfortable couch and opened up your laptop. You had prepared a few opening lines the night before, since you had learnt that doing half of an assignment on the day of the announcement is better than starting the next day. Whoever wrote that theory needs to clarify it to you, but hey never pass up a good study tip right?

Immersed by the clacking of the keyboard keys and the pretty syllables decorating your page, you were completely absent from the world around you. Until, you heard a familiar voice, which broke you out of your hypoxia.

Heeseung.

What was he doing here?, You thought, not realising that you were basically staring at him. He was dressed in full black today, a leather jacket adorning his broad shoulders. A single earing dangled from his right ear. He still had his glasses on, which were fogged up completely, courtesy to the weather outside. Chatting away sonderly to Sunoo, as Sunoo prepared his drink in a way familiar to you, Heeseung caught your eye. He waved joyfully to you, akin to a child waving to their best friend. You waved back, not aware of the face you were currently making.

"Hey!" Heeseung said, sitting down in the chair next to you, with his drink in hand, "Working up on the Pride and Prejudice thing?" There were atleast a million other seats empty in the cafe. Why did he have to sit next to you? You didn't really realise how handsome he was, until he was sitting face to face with you. The mere sunlight coming in from the windows seemed to illuminate his face well. "Oh yeah I am." You replied, shooting him a smile, "Same thing?" You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going. Heeseung smiled jovially at you and propped his laptop open. "Yep." He replied and glued his eyes to the screen as you went back to your own work. "The Neighborhood again?" He raised an eyebrow, peeking at your open Spotify. You smiled gently and replied, "Arctic Monkeys?" As if ticking a correct answer, Heeseung laughed and showed you his phone where 'Arabella' was playing. A pretty album cover, you thought, subtle and sleek. "To each his own then?" Heeseung said. You nodded and smiled in response, before dropping your head back down to your laptop.

An hour must have passed like this, both of you hypnotised in writing and editing, and downing the refills of coffee Sunoo was providing you with. You stole tiny glances at Heeseung from time to time. Concentration was a good face on him, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands typing away furiously at the keyboard. He didn't talk to you at all, except for the initial hey and hello. But something about the way he spoke to you in the beginning, about the way he asked if you had a pen, and about the way he said 'Hey you have an eyelash on your nose' made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

Heeseung left before you did and before leaving he had extended a hand out to you. "May the best essay win." He spoke, shaking your hand and showing you his smile. God he never stopped smiling did he? His hand was soft, as was his grip on yours. It felt like how your father would hold your hand when you were little on the crosswalk.

"Girl just ask him out." Sunoo called after you as you were about to leave, "The tension between both of you back there was almost poetic." Even though you laughed at Sunoo's quip, and denied the offer, a part of your mind lingered on Sunoo's words and the way Heeseung spoke to you that afternoon.

The days leading upto the hour of the presentation went fast. Too fast almost. Your mind went over your short conversation with Heeseung atleast a million times, sometimes distracting you from typing. You didn't know where all the red bull cans littered across your room came from, but you remember where you threw every single one of them and why. The presentation was perfect. It must have been checked by your eyes atleast a hundred times. Finally, a time was coming when you would be able to express your true feeling about it. Despise and Trouble ran through your veins as you walked up to the board as your professor called on you to present. The class seemed to hold a tight breath to themselves. Everyone knew you, teacher's pet, best at English, known for using the most difficult metaphores in her essays yet having a straightforward point.

"Shall I begin?" You asked your professor who gave a curt nod and leaned back in her chair, an expectant smile plastered on her face. You returned the smile and turned to your classmates, who seemed most interested in your essay.

"Well to begin with, as one does-" humor was always the best way to start off speeches, which was shown by the subtle laughter of the students, "-I would like to say that Pride and Prejudice may be one of the most despised books I have sitting in my bookcase." You heard gasps around the room as everyone started murmerring. Your professor leaned forward in her chair, her mouth pressed tightly to form a thin line. That's good, you thought, a good way to break into their corneas.

"While most people would disagree with me upon this apparent piece of art, I truly believe that this sort of a romance is highly impossible. And no-dont tell me that this is fiction and in the fictious worlds you can quote unquote 'do whatever you want'." The audience held their breaths back as you continued with your rant. Your professor was watching it all with a smile on her face, knowing that she couldn't disagree with you. After all, you had to present your own opinions no matter how opposite they were to everyone else's.

"Well-" you professor stood up from her chair, as you finished your presentation. It had been a 25 minute rant about the book and by now everyone seemed to be meekly looking at their own essays. "That was brilliant Y/N. Truly brilliant." You professor clapped you on the back, "I must say, you have a flair for arguing in a way no one can find counter-attacks. I wonder why you did not choose law as your major?"

"Because there is another argument to be discussed here."

A cold voice rang through the room, as you were about to laugh at the professor's quip. You spun around on your shoes to face the culprit.

Lee Heeseung.

"Heeseung!" Your professor delightfully responded clapping her hands together, "Well why don't you tell us your opinion then? And we'll see if Y/N can fire back." She sat in her chair again, looking positively delighted at the forthcoming, "A battle of the best wits perhaps!"

Heeseung smiled widely and stepped forward to where you were sitting, plopping down on the opposite chair. Your professor had always kept two chairs facing each other in front of her class, for debates, her reason sounded. And now, as you sat in front of Heeseung and his stupidly handsome smirk, you swore you were going to bring him down.

"First of firsts-" Heeseung began, as everyone's attention caught on you. "-your opinion is speaking from a highly biased perspective." "How so?" You fired back, before he could even breathe, "I had already stated in the beginning, about how this cannot be on a biased perspective, since fiction based in actual words cannot be this animated." Heeseung smiled again, which threw you off track a bit. God he's handsome, you thought, too handsome....

"Of course but must I remind you, that this book was perhaps the first out of many to start with the trope of enemies to lovers?" Why were his eyes like galaxies?, "Jane Austen invented an entire trope, which still remains a genius scan of literature to this day. How could you say it's too animated?"

"Yes but-"

"Furthermore-" Heeseung continued, not giving you the chance to breathe, "inventing new tropes does not break this 'law of literature' as you say. Since there was no law of literature to begin with. So please Miss Y/N-" he leaned forward, looking at you with dangerous eyes, "-don't you dare say that Pride and Prejudice is a worthless piece of literature just because it does not have proof of poetry."

The class let out a breath as you sat frozen in your seat. Someone actually breaking your argument was a first for you.

God, his hair. His pretty curly hair.

You didn't realise how long you'd been staring at Heeseung with widened eyes until your professor clapped her hands together again.

"Well then!" She said cheerfully, effectively breaking you out of your stupor, "I believe this goes for grading both of you an A+. Half of your grade is filled you two! Congratulations!" The class broke out into applause as you thanked her and awkwardly shook hands with Heeseung as the bell rang loudly. "Well class I'll be seeing you next time!" Your professor announced, as everyone started filing out. "Oh Y/N, Heeseung a moment please?"

You stopped your feet from stepping out the door and immediately spun around, marching off towards your professor, seeing Heeseung doing the same. "Yes Professor Kim?" Heeseung responded with those stupid puppy eyes of his before you could. Professor Kim smiled gently at both of you, before pulling out her tablet.

"I need a bit of help from both of you. It'll be sort of a favour to you too." She handed you the tablet, which had a sort of letter open on it. Heeseung leaned from behind you, and put his chin on your shoulder, making your stomach feel clammy. He smelled good too, you thought, like fresh paper.

"An event is being hosted by our Dean for all majors." Professor Kim smiled, "Sort of a career booster you could say. We were instructed to pick two students from our classes to have the assignment of checking essays, and documentations and whatnot pertaining to their majors."

"And you chose to pick us Ma'am? I'm flattered." Heeseung chuckled, as Professor Kim laughed to his quip. "Well you two are my best students." She drawled, "So the assignment I'm giving you is-" she pulled out a huge stack of papers from beneath her desk. It shocked you how quickly they appeared out of nowhere, like magic. "-these are all essays collected by last year's class. I want you to go through them, give them a good critic, and grade them according to you. You will personally grade each one, taking each other's help of course,since it's a group project. And it will lend you a helping hand since you'll be getting a certificate which you can use to get into any company you'd like!"

You and Heeseung glanced at each other and we're relieved to see the same excited expression face back at them. This was a rare opportunity, a diamond of the first water you'd say. And you had to grab it, even If that meant it was with a person you despised with your entire being.

"I'll do it Professor!" You replied positively to which Heeseung also nodded frantically as if to say the same thing. "Great!" Professor Kim clapped her hands together again, "Oh and one rule is you two have to work together in this classroom. Since the Dean wants to provide you with an opportunity to see how workplace relationships doon out."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard her words. You, working with Heeseung in an empty classroom? You would rather have praised Pride and Prejudice.

"Here, the keys." Professor Kim handed you and Heeseung a pair of keys, "You can work in the evening if you want. But make sure to complete it as soon as you can alright? Oh and you can skip classes if you want to do this first, since the Dean is prioritising this before anything else." You nodded in response to her instructions and bowed her goodbye as you and Heeseung walked out.

"So-" Heeseung stuffed his hands in his pockets, "You wanna work on this shit tonight?" "Unless you have any other appointments, sure we can work on it tonight." You responded, coldly, not looking at him in the eye. "Alright then." Heeseung scoffed, "Meet you here at 8?" "Alright." The end of your conversation came a little too fast, you thought, but you couldn't stand looking into his pretty little eyes and talking to him, as if he didn't just embarrass you infront of your entire class a few minutes ago. "Y/N wait!" Heeseung called, running up to you, as you were about to exit the building. "What?" You spun around to face him. "Shouldn't we exchange numbers first?" Heeseung handed you his phone, which had his contact list open. "Why? So you can take me out on a date later?" You shot at him. A smirk tugged on the corner of Heeseung lips, but he resisted, not wanting to anger you more. You looked cute when you were angry in his opinion. "No. Maybe incase you were murdered by someone on the way here, I can call you and scold you on why tardiness is a childish thing to do." Heeseung joked. You smiled sarcastically at him as you handed him his phone back, having typed in your number. "Eight o'clock princess don't you forget now."

Tick tock tick. The clock's quiet sons echoed through the empty class. 'Don't forget.' you scoffed, 'And he's the one who's late.' The time on your watch sounded 8:30 and yet Heeseung wasn't here. You had given up waiting for him, and started on the assignment yourself, already finishing two of the army of papers. You were a hard critic, and it clearly showed in the way you were seeping your eyes through the ink.

"Soojin he's late! I can't come back now!" Your roommate had called you, in the midst of your third paper, complaining about a cockroach in the room. "Just call your boyfriend, and don't be such a pussy it won't hurt you." You scoffed at Soojin, whose scared whimpers were heard clearly through the phone.

"How's the checking going?" Soojin asked, having seemingly calmed down. You groaned and leaned back in your chair, wincing at the crack of your backbone. Your back must have become stiff from the amount of time you had been sitting in that chair. You felt pity for your professors for the first time, having finally been in their shoes.

"Heeseung's not here yet and I'm literally so fed up right now." You complained to Soojin, "That handsome bastard told me not to be late, and now look where I am! Asshole seriously." "He'll turn up, cool down Y/N." Soojin soothed you. You heard a sound of crashing in the background and stifled a laugh, assuming that Soojin must have miraculously jumped from one bed to the other. "I told you he's a playboy." Soojin panted through the phone, "Maybe he's busy fucking some poor girl in his frat house." You rolled your eyes at her statement.

"Please." You scoffed, "He couldn't fuck a girl if he wanted to, with the tiny ass cock he has." Soojin let out a raucous laugh from the other side of the phone. "How the fuck do you know he has a tiny cock?" She chuckled. "Intuition baby." You responded, "And my intuition is never wrong."

"Like how it was on the day of our debate?"

A familiar voice again. But this time, the warmth in it wasn't present. You whipped your head around to the door, where Heeseung stood, leaning against the door and smirking. "Soojin I'll call you back." You cut the call, before Soojin could respond.

"Hey." You called out to Heeseung. "Hey." Heeseung shot back, sitting down on the chair in front of you, spreading his legs wide. An involuntary gulp went through your throat. "What were you saying princess?" He leaned forward, his shirt dropping down slightly, "I have a tiny what now?" The dim lighting of the room, made his eyes look dark, and the leather of his black jacket, gleam more. "I- I wasn't saying anything Heeseung." You responded, turning your chair back to the desk, warmth coming up on your cheeks. Heeseung cocked his head to the side and smirked at your flustered state.

"Really princess?" He smirked, edging closer to you. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils again. His glasses dropped on his nose, and he hadn't even bother to push them back up. "Heeseung just get to work." You sternly responded, trying to keep your cool. How could you though? When he was so close to you, lips almost touching your ear. "For you information-" Heeseung spoke, turning your attention away from the paper you were working on, "-I had a friend who needed a lift to his dorm, so I ran a little late. But you couldn't wait for me could you princess?" He smirked, laying his hand on top of yours, "Just couldn't wait to critique all those papers like the good girl you are." "He-Heeseung." "Shh don't." Heeseung shushed you, "You want to see how tiny of a cock I really have then hmm?"

"Heeseung we shouldn't." You hesitated, feeling your legs warm up. "No one's gonna know, as long as you don't make a noise alright?" He kissed your neck gently, turning your figure to his, still sitting in the chair. "Oh princess, already wet for me?" He chuckled, toying with the button of your shirt. "Heeseung-" you moaned out, quickly unbuttoning your shirt, as Heeseung took off his jacket and threw it on the desk. You pulled back slightly as your mind came to its proper senses. "Where are you going doll?" Heeseung questioned, hands resting on your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, "Don't worry princess, no one's gonna know."

Heeseung brings his lips down to yours in an instant, wasting no time. You gasp at his sudden actions and he takes advantage of that by entering his tongue into your mouth. You grab at his shoulders while he cups your jaw with both of his hands. Your hands reach his hair, softly tugging at the root and you hear him whine. Heeseung sucks on your bottom lip, catching it between his teeth and pulling it back to look at you. You look up at him and he takes your face in his hands.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” Heeseung asks in a teasing tone as he looks down at you. You could feel the throb in his pants press against your legs as you whimper. “Hee please.” You whine, squirming as he places a kiss between your breasts. Heeseung runs his hands up and down the sides of your body. If he was going to fuck you on the classroom floor right there and then, you were going to let him.

“Oh, you're feeling extra polite today huh? Please, Heeseung.” Heeseung mocks you with a tiny laugh. You groan in embarrassment and hide your face with your hands. Heeseung just lets out another laugh and wraps his hands around your wrists, prying them away from your face. He transfers both of your wrists to one hand, holding them over your head as he uses his other hand to trail his fingers down your body.

“Don’t hide your pretty face now, princess.” Heeseung says nonchalantly as he dips a hand inside your leggings and panties to feel your dripping cunt. His glasses were beginning to fog up slightly as he whipped them off of his face, setting them down on the desk. You clench around nothing when you feel his middle finger dip into your wetness and bring it up to your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. You moan softly as Heeseung teases your clit, never taking his eyes off of your face.

Heeseung begins to rub your clit faster, and you buck your hips up into his fingers. You hear him laugh at your eagerness and he presses soft kisses into your neck. Heeseung takes his fingers off of your clit and he snaps the waistband of your trousers against your pelvis.

“Dirty girl. Never thought you'd be like this.” Heeseung says with a smirk and you dumbly nod your head. The sounds of your heavy breathing and your pussy squelching around his fingers make your legs begin to shake.

Heeseung spits on your cunt to lubricate it even more, and that's what makes you come undone. Your cunt clenches around his fingers, sucking them in as he fingers you through your orgasm.

Heeseung takes his time kissing down your body, letting your need and desperation build by the second. He tugs one nipple and then the other into his mouth, suckling at the perky nubs and massaging your areola between his lips. Your hips are trembling with anticipation, the space between your legs aching to feel Heeseung's kiss.

Stars hover over you, or at least, that’s how it feels. Your eyes are closed, awareness cut off to the world around you except the place Heeseung's face is buried. He devours your cunt like a man starved, swallowing you whole. Heeseung doesn’t come up for air; he doesn’t need to, because all he breathes is you. Your back is arched and arms stretched forward, fingers clutching Heeseung’s hair in fistfuls.

Your thighs are shaking, reflexively clamping around Heeseung's’s face. He keeps forcing them open, demanding full access to your cunt, even as you buck and claw and convulse. Your mouth hangs open in a stupor; a thin line of drool trickles down your cheek and connects to the cold floor beneath you.

Heeseung laps at your slit like he’s never tasted you before, like he never will again. His tongue pads between your lips, upward strokes that end with the tip of his tongue flicking your clit with a firm intensity that has you reeling. Tugging at his hair, trying not to scream his name incoherently, you ride out the longest orgasm you’ve ever had. Tears burn the corners of your eyes, stars bursting in the black sky of your vision. Heeseung doesn’t stop licking your cunt till you release his hair.

“M’gonna fuck you now, okay?” Heeseung says sweetly and you nod your head. He runs his hard cock through your folds, and he catches your clit, making you jerk a little. Heeseung slowly begins to push himself into you and you throw your head back against the hard material of the desk.

“Fuck, knew you’d be tight when I felt you around my fingers.” Heeseung grits out, and he continues to push himself into you until he bottoms out. He starts to move at a slow pace, and he whines when you beg him to move faster. “Fucking whore. Bet you think about me fucking you in class don't you?” Heeseung spits out as he pushes himself harder and deeper into your sloppy cunt. You moan at his words, and you try to reply but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You cry out, and you clench around Heeseung's fat cock.

“ Cum for me princess.” Heeseung. moans out, fucking into you so deep, a ring of your cum and his has formed at the base of his cock. You run your fingers through his hair, harshly tugging on it as you come undone at his expense. Heeseung buries his face into your neck as he cums, sucking at your pulse point. You feel his cum shoot into you and it only prolongs your own orgasm.

After a couple minutes of you two catching your breath, Heeseung takes his face out of your neck and plops down in the chair, pulling you onto his lap. You sit there, dazed for a few seconds, burrowing your head in his chest, his heartbeat reminding you where you were.

"Well that was a whirlwind of emotions." He says at last, when you start to stir from your hypnosis, "You good doll?" You nod slightly and feel Heeseung's arms wrap around you, putting you safely down on the chair, as he put his clothes back on, slowly picking up yours as well.

"Heeseung the assignments." You panic, as he puts your shirt back on you. "It's alright princess." He coos at you, wrapping an arm around your waist, "We can do that in the morning. Let's get you home." He guides you slowly out the door. "So-" he smirks, locking the classroom with his key "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

1K notes · View notes

evangelical04 · 17 days ago

Text

A Single Daffodil || Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Spending Valentine's Day alone can be a little embarrassing, a lot self-deprecating. But maybe, it won't be so bad this year.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4.1K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: maybe some angst?? not really, it's pretty fluffy

Author's Note: hi everyone! hope you don't mind getting tagged for just a special lol. i thought it'd be fun to post something for valentine's day (especially because i don't have any plans lol), so here it is! view this as an AU of sorts since they're in college, i wouldn't call it canon. it isn't super closely proofread so i'm sorry for any errors, i just wanted to get this posted today!! hope you guys enjoy!!

TAGLIST CLOSED [follow asingledaffodil tag for all notifications]

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandyrecs @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @pastelpeachess @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309 @wobblewobble822 @praetae @yoongibaybee @weareatthebadlands

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The chilly air tickled your nose, making you stifle a sneeze. You could feel an itch scratching at the back of your throat, threatening a violent outburst and inciting a ‘bless you’ from the nearest passerby. Despite the cold winds nipping at your face, pressing small icicles like pinpricks against your cheeks, you trekked on. Midterms were approaching for some of your classes and you knew you weren’t going to get anything done at your apartment, not with Joohee shoving her way through the door with the latest sweet monstrosity she had concocted at the coffee shop across the street.

Why was it still so cold? You knew it was only mid-February, but it felt unfair for you to still be able to see your breath and have to layer a jacket on top of your sweater on top of your long sleeve shirt. The headphones encasing your ear were your makeshift earmuffs, with the added bonus of soft and smooth jazz soothing your attitude. Finally, finally, you reached the other cafe near your place, tucked away between buildings and down stairs. You frequented the location often, finding their atmosphere more suited to your taste than Joohee’s favorite spot, it was quiet and serene, the lack of windows made time pass before you knew it. You loved it here.

As you walked past the counter, waving to the baristas who knew your face well by now, you set your stuff down at your regular table in the far corner, digging through your tote for your wallet. Triumphant, you approached the counter, placing an order for an iced tea, despite the icy weather, and treating yourself to one of their warm and savory sandwiches. After you’d collected your food, making your way back to your table, you allowed yourself a few minutes to enjoy your hot sandwich and contrasting iced tea. After this, you’d truly have to focus your whole attention.

With only crumbs left on your plate and your tea halfway finished, you switched tabs in your laptop to your design project. You were only a third year, but your classes were already about building portfolios and perfecting your coding ability. You weren’t excited to resume working on your project, but you were thankful you had graduated from the classes where they had exams instead of projects. However thankful you had felt reading the syllabi vanished in the face of having to reset yet another bug in Maya, causing your camera to not follow the line you’d animated. More papers for your character design class weighed down your tote, only making you hunch over further in anticipation of the workload you had ahead of you. While you did enjoy this, you hoped you would be able to get into project management someday, you knew that’s where your organizational skills would shine.

Only an hour had gone by of you sitting in the plush chair and ordering another drink, this time with a muffin, when the peaceful air in the cafe was disturbed. Three men had walked in, clad in joggers, sweatshirts, and casual looking khakis, with the tallest laughing loudly and smacking another man on the shoulder. You squinted, trying to get a better look at the laughing man, before realizing why he looked so familiar.

Kim Seokjin was as boisterous as ever, his gap year last year proving to have only amplified his loud and extroverted presence. Joohee had complained to her parents that she hadn’t gotten to take a gap year to travel, but you knew she secretly had no interest in it, her days were too occupied with you and Hoseok. The man Seokjin had clapped on the shoulder was one you didn’t recognize, tan skin and short hair, round, wiry glasses slipping down his nose. He waved off Seokjin’s persistent hand attempting to ruffle his hair, before taking a seat at a table not far from you. When he shot Seokjin a fond smile, though, you were stunned by his deep dimples and crinkled eyes, he was certainly pretty.

The last man, rather short compared to the other two, was another familiar face. Your eyes dragged across his bleach blonde hair, a new look for him, down his chubby, pale cheeks and pouty lips, before tracing his black sweatshirt, past his dark joggers, and sweeping over his white tennis shoes. Min Yoongi looked beautiful every time you saw him. Where you thought his bleach blonde hair, once a dark and natural black, would wash him out, it actually created a stunning contrast to his harsh glare from dark eyes. His upturned mouth curved a soft frown into his face, the occasional swipe of his tongue across dry lips making your eyes dart away. How he managed to look soft and dangerous at the same time was a wonder, but one you fully enjoyed.

Okay, so maybe you were a bit head over heels for him considering the lack of conversation that you two had held, but that was the beauty of an unrequited crush. You could ogle and pine, glance and fantasize all you wanted without having the crushing weight of reality fall down upon you. You were fully self-aware of your infatuation and the dim likelihood of your crush being returned, but you were okay with that, or so you told yourself.

It wasn’t as though you hadn’t tried to pursue other options, but they hadn’t worked out. Mina’s disappointed expression still burned in your memory, and it was a solid reason as to why you hadn’t explored outside further. Unrequited love was easier, there was no expectation of reciprocation, the untouchableness of your object of affection was comforting, you could confidently like him from afar. Did it hurt when you saw him with other people? Sure, but you liked to imagine that it hurt less because you never expected anything in the first place.

Seokjin’s booming voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you instead watched them place their orders at the register. You wondered what each one would order based on their appearances. Seokjin was probably ordering a seasonal holiday special, you could practically hear everything he was saying, and he was asking for extra blackberry syrup. The tall man behind him, the one you didn’t know, seemed like a hot cappuccino kind of guy. The air around him screamed elegant academic and you could imagine him sipping from a steaming ceramic cup while writing an award winning research paper. Yoongi, though, you weren’t sure, you didn’t know him that well. A black coffee, no milk, no sugar? An americano? It was hard to place which of the bitter, dark roast drinks he’d enjoy the most.

You turned away, what would you know anyway? It wasn’t your business. You had no connection to them, you had you remind yourself of that. Focusing your attention back on the dull grey of the Maya UI had you almost groaning out loud. You wished you could be doing anything else.

The constant chattering in Yoongi’s ear was beginning to get grating. He was trying his best to focus on studying for his upcoming finance exam, but it was proving to be impossible with Jin blabbering away about something or other. He’d stopped actually paying attention a while ago, but Jin’s voice was difficult to tune out despite Yoongi’s best efforts. Namjoon seemed largely unaffected next to him, highlighting away in his handwritten notes. Despite Namjoon being a year younger, they were taking the same level of courses, and Yoongi was sure Namjoon was going to beat him at every turn in scores.

Not that it mattered, Yoongi knew he had a position waiting for him at Min Enterprises, right under his father. He knew he should feel privileged, he was and he knew that, but he couldn’t help the seed of resentment that grew tall and thorny inside him. He had managed to sneak a few music courses into his schedule but his rat of an advisor had tattled on him to his father. It made sense, he supposed, his father was basically the one paying the advisor’s salary. It had left a sour taste in his mouth for what his future would look like, but Yoongi couldn’t outwardly complain. He knew his friends felt somewhat similarly, but it was dangerous to discuss things like that in this sort of social circle. Yoongi had learned the hard way that you didn’t know who was friend or foe until the knife was already lodged into your back, and Yoongi knew better than to make the same mistake twice.

“I think that’s Joo’s friend over there, Y/N,” Seokjin mentioned offhandedly, Yoongi finally tuning back into his friend’s rambling, “Should we say hi?” Jin looked questioningly at Yoongi and Namjoon, only receiving blank stares in response.

“I mean, I don’t know her,” Namjoon said bluntly, but kindly, “And I’m kind of in the zone right now.”

Jin pouted, turning to Yoongi with a hopeful gleam in his eye, only to be met with Yoongi’s resolute frown and small shake of his head.

“I barely know her either,” Yoongi said, more matter-of-factly than anything, “And besides, who wants to be ambushed by their friend’s older brother while they’re trying to study.”

“You guys are no fun,” Jin complained, only receiving agreeing hums from both Yoongi and Namjoon.

Yoongi turned his attention back to his laptop, seeing the words on the screen swim together. Finance was boring and difficult, and despite his troublemaker appearance, Yoongi tried his hardest in his classes. Even if he was going to be handed a position at Min Enterprises anyway, he could at least say that he’d earned his degree with his own perspiration and grit.

That was easier said than done, though, and the only thing keeping Yoongi going right now was the 8 hour time slot he’d booked for one of the music school’s studios for him and Joon after exams.

“Valentine’s day is soon,” Jin began, “Just a few days out, you two got any plans?”

Yoongi knew that Jin had a date with some girl from the nursing college and he was only asking them so he could eventually talk about his own plans.

On Yoongi’s left, Namjoon shrugged, “I’m meeting this girl from one of my classes, she asked to get dinner that night.”

Jin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s just dinner,” Namjoon said, “I’m not really that interested in her, but I felt bad saying no.”

“Boring,” Jin sung, “What about you, Yoongs?”

Yoongi shot him a glare for the nickname but it bounced off of Jin’s bright demeanor, “I don’t have anything planned.”

Jin rolled his eyes before speaking once more, “Well, I have plans, and I’m going to tell you right now whether you want to hear or not.”

That was Yoongi’s cue to tune him out again, his mind drifting to the upcoming holiday. He’d had some Valentine’s dates before, one or two over the course of college, and he’d been inundated with sweet gifts during middle and high school, but he’d never had a sweet tooth. Yoongi wasn’t interested in romance right now, though, he was focused on making sure he’d graduate in a few months. Sex and love could wait until after that.

Well, he supposed he didn’t have a reason to delay sex, but he was sorely lacking time at the moment. He split his days between studying, basketball (when it was warm enough), and any open slots he could find at the studio. There was barely any time for dates or one night stands. He’d waited this long, he could wait another few months until he graduated and had evenings to himself.

Listening to Jin go on and on about how pretty this girl was, though, did make him feel just the tiniest bit lonely.

Was it just you that curled your lip at the cheesy decorations lining the streets of campus? You hoped not, you didn’t want to consider how much of a grouch that made you. The constant barrage of hearts and pink kiss cut outs left you feeling a bit sick. Whether it was from the corny decorations or the reminder of your single status was a question you also didn’t want to explore. It was somewhat late in the morning of Valentine’s day when you were making your way to the same cafe as before. Your roommate was having her boyfriend over and you quickly understood the unspoken hint of making yourself scarce and decided upon enjoying an iced tea from your favorite cafe.

Your projects were still unfinished and you’d resolved to make major headway today, considering they were due in the upcoming week. You blew out a short breath, seeing the vapor form in front of you, your weekend was going to be completely taken up by school. Pushing open the doors of the cafe, you took in your surroundings, noting how unusually empty it was. People must have better things to do on Valentine’s day, but where did that leave you?

You quickly ordered and received your food, making yourself comfy in your usual seat. Looking around the bare room left you feeling a bit upset, did everyone but you have a valentine this year? A quick glance at the two giggling baristas holding hands over the table confirmed your worries. You took an aggressive sip of your drink before opening your laptop, it didn’t matter, you had work to do. Soon, you forgot about your anxieties of loneliness in the face of intense work, focusing your full attention on the project in front of you. You were so distracted that you didn’t realize someone else had entered the cafe until they sat down across from you at your table.

The sound of a backpack plopping down across from you startled you to attention, looking up at the person at the source of the sound. Dark eyes stared back at you with a single raised eyebrow hidden underneath blonde bangs. Your mouth opened slightly in shock before you closed it, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Yoongi’s face.

“Is anyone sitting here already?”

You shook your head silently, still at a loss for words.

“Cool.”

Yoongi left his backpack on the adjacent chair before going up the register to order a hot americano with four shots of espresso. You made sure to take off your headphones and strain your ears to hear his order this time, watching him wait and return to your table after receiving the steaming cup. Your eyes didn’t leave his form the entire time, still unable to comprehend why he decided to sit next to you. His expression offered no answers, impassive and unreadable, and his voice supplied none either, choosing to silently sit and start working rather than speak to you.

You stared at him for another few beats before returning back to your own work, what else were you supposed to do? However much you tried to focus on finishing your cutscene, your head swam with racing thoughts of why Yoongi was acting the way he was. It was becoming increasingly hard to focus with his form across from you, seemingly unbothered. Nevertheless, you tried your best to focus your attention on your laptop screen and not on the relaxed figure on the other side of the table. For a while, it worked, but you were beginning to get frustrated with your lack of progress. You could feel your bottom lip jutting out in an unintentional pout and your anger grew as you ran your unsatisfactory frames again, solidifying the need for more work to be done.

You picked up your empty cup, hearing the ice shake, and exhaling in disappointment. Standing quietly, you attempted not to disturb Yoongi’s flow, though he seemed apathetic to your presence either way. His cup was seemingly empty, set aside and no longer steaming, and you considered your next move. The barista at the register happily took your order for another tea, sending a wink to the other girl behind the counter, who giggled in response. You held in an eyeroll, you couldn’t be mad at them, the two girls were adorably cute together, but you were already annoyed and on edge from your project going awry, not to mention the frustratingly stoic man sitting at your table.

“Can I have a blueberry muffin, too, please,” you asked before you second guess yourself. The girl nodded, ringing you up, before handing you the muffin and drink after a minute or two. You breathed slowly, this would be a big step, a peace offering of sorts. If he said no, you would just eat the damn muffin yourself. It wasn’t such a big deal, or so you told yourself as you walked over.

Wait, what if he didn’t say anything at all?

There was no time to ponder that question as you’d already reached the table. You placed the muffin down next to him with shaky fingers before taking your own seat silently, you couldn’t look into his eyes. Not having enough courage to actually say anything, you instead took a long sip of your drink and stared hard at your computer. You remained steadfast in your gaze, locked into a staring competition with the editing software, before your attention was drawn by fingers tapping by the side of your laptop. You looked up, making eye contact with Yoongi’s gaze, still unreadable.

“Thanks for the muffin,” he said quietly, his voice slightly gruff.

You nodded, sending him a tight-lipped smile, about to return your gaze to your work before he spoke once more.

��Seo Y/N, right?”

Your mouth parted in shock, did he really know you? Did he really remember you? You nodded mutely in response to him.

“You’re Joohee’s friend, right? Jin hyung had mentioned you the other day,” he said, taking a bite of the muffin.

You deflated slightly. Of course he didn’t actually remember you, he only knew you as Joohee’s friend. What other reason would you occupy his mind, if you even crossed it at all. Sending another polite smile in response, you struggled for something to say.

“You’re Min Yoongi,” you stated, immediately regretting the bluntness of the words. You couldn’t come up with anything better than that? It wasn’t even a question, you had said like you already knew so what room did you leave him to respond? Your first conversation with him in years was already failing due to your social ineptness.

Yoongi, however, seemed more amused than anything, a barely there smile decorating his face and a slight tilt to his head, “Yeah, that’s me. What are you working on that’s got you huffing and puffing over there?”

His description of your behavior made your cheeks warm, “A project for class, I have to make a game cutscene.”

“Oh,” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, “You’re studying games?”

Your cheeks flamed even brighter, it sounded so stupid when he put it like that. In reality, you were studying project management and game design, but you had heard enough reactions from your parents’ friends to know that didn’t matter. All they heard was that it wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or business, and that was enough for them to write it off. It felt even worse to hear the same amused, almost condescending, tone from Yoongi. You knew you had idolized him past his reality, but you’d hoped he would at least be more open minded than the other people that populated your family’s social circle. You felt yourself curl inwards a bit, retracting your hand back into your lap and trying to wipe your probably crestfallen expression off of your face.

“That’s pretty cool,” he mused, eyes looking somewhere far off instead of you, “I’m amazed your parents let you.”

An involuntary scoff left your lips, making him focus his gaze back to you, “It came with its own price.”

He chuckled humorlessly, “It always does. Sometimes it feels like our parents are more like business partners than actual parents.”

Your hand stilled on your keyboard, his words striking a chord within you. They rang true, recalling most conversations with your parents sounding like a business meeting more than anything else, even when you were a kid. You were raised by maids and nannies, even your older brother barely interacted with you, your only reprieve was Joohee. Every time your parents came into your room, rare as it was, it was always to discuss your academics and nothing else. You worked hard for their approval, but even that came with consequences, further alienating your brother from you with the implicit competition expected between you. It saddened you, in a kindred spirit kind of way, to think that Yoongi had experienced something similar.

“Do you have something you wanted to do instead,” you asked before you could stop yourself. Maybe that was out of line.

Yoongi paused for a moment, considering your question, before smiling wistfully, “Yeah, I do.”

You were floored by the sparkle in his eyes, a flush to his cheeks, and a longing smile almost forming on his lips. In that moment, you knew that he couldn’t stop pursuing whatever it was that made him light up like that.

“You should go for it,” you said, words tumbling out of your mouth, “I know it’s easier said than done, but it doesn’t have to be your livelihood. Your parents don’t have to know, isn’t it better to get there without them? But you shouldn’t give it up for anyone else, only if you really, truly want to.” You exhaled unsteadily, certainly not your most eloquent moment, but you hoped that what you were trying to say came across.

Yoongi’s piercing gaze made you squirm, worried that you had gone too far. It wasn’t your business after all, and his continued silence made you feel like he didn’t appreciate your uninvited input. You unconsciously began wringing your fingers against each other, avoiding his intense gaze.

“Sorry,” you mumbled meekly after he continued to stare at you without saying anything.

Yoongi seemed to snap back into the conversation, shaking his head slightly, “No, no, thank you. I’ll definitely have to keep that in mind.”

You weren’t sure if he was being serious or just polite, but at least he didn’t seem mad. You were happy with that. Just about to continue your work once more, your eyes caught his mouth opening once more, his tone straightforward but not unkind.

“I hope you take your own advice.”

You and Yoongi had been working in comfortable silence, interrupted by the occasional conversation, mainly started by Yoongi since you were still too nervous to say anything unprompted. It was getting late, but you didn’t want to leave. Sitting in the empty cafe with no windows with your longtime crush felt like a dream, and you didn’t want to wake up.

“So, how come you’re sitting here studying and not out on some date? Shouldn’t you be enjoying your youth to the fullest,” Yoongi asks, taking a bite out of a second muffin.

You smiled, “Shouldn’t you be doing the same?”

Yoongi only shook his head, prompting you to continue.

“No special reason, I guess, just don’t have a valentine,” you said, not wanting to delve into the complicated reasoning for your single status, “What about you?”

Yoongi hums, taking another bite of his muffin, “About the same here, just too busy this time of year to find someone.”

You nodded along even though your heart sank a bit, was it really that easy for him to find a date that time was the only thing stopping him? It’s not like you were expecting him to be celibate in consideration of your hidden feelings, but it was a bit disheartening that romance seemed to come so easy to him when you struggled with it so much. Maybe you were the problem.

“Tell you what,” Yoongi starts, cheeks puffed from polishing off the last of his muffin, “Since we’re both without a valentine this year, how about for today, we’ll be each other’s valentine.”

You looked up at him in shock, “What do you mean?”

“We’ve already spent most of the day together anyway, so let’s just call each other our valentine’s for today,” he said simply, as though he hadn’t just made your heart stutter.

You knew it was casual, a joke even, for him, but you wanted to relish in this moment, just a small bit of delusion to sprinkle into your fantasies. It’s not like you had any other prospects.

“Okay,” you smiled, “I think you’ll make a good enough valentine.”

Yoongi only smiled in response, “I think you’ll do just fine, too.”

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ihavethedreamies · 10 months ago

Text

Second Choice | San [NSFW]

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~11.1k O_o

Pairing: San x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, One-Sided Love, Sharing a Bed, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Precious, Sweetheart, Love, Pretty/Sweet Girl, etc.), Nightmares/Bad Dreams, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation (Just a tad), Dacryphilia (Kind of), Creampie Kink (Not really Breeding so…), Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Wall Sex, Window Sex, Mirror Sex, Big Dick! San, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Multiple Rounds

Author's Note: Holy Fuck, look at what I did 🫢. This is…long, as you can see. There is about equal parts fluff and angst and possibly even more smut. Had this brewing in my head for a few days after I went down a San rabbit hole. I went through a roller coaster ride of emotions writing this, so good luck reading it, my dudes.

Wooyoung is not in this, but he is mentioned and is somewhat of a love rival? Also Reader has a dog in this, so sorry if you don't like dogs or something…

PS. The middle pic of the banner is Mark and Renjun 🤪

Revised (1/31/25) - I forgot to change the name to (Y/N), so I fixed it!

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Glancing at the clock, tick-tick-ticking away, you sigh; 2:38 am. It’s much, much too early (or too late) to be awake, but you know there’s no way you can fall asleep. The first nightmare wasn’t nearly as bad, so you were willing to go back to sleep, but when it happened again, you just couldn’t. So, you’re sitting on the couch, some random rerun playing on the TV. You have to keep the volume low, not wanting to wake San up. He’s sleeping with the door open so his cat can come and go. Byeol is sleeping in the armchair and you’re jealous that he can do so in peace. San’s staying in Wooyoung’s room while he’s gone, and since your sister had somewhere to be that weekend as well, you’re home alone. It freaks you out to be alone in such a big place, never really having lived on your own. San offered to stay with you, and you were a bit reluctant to agree, but did so. It’s not that you aren’t close with San, you are, since Wooyoung is your roommate, it’s just odd without Wooyoung there too. Turning around to glance behind the couch, you dog is snoring away in her dog bed, laying on her back, legs folded down over her chest. She’s so sweet, but she’s a husky and therefore makes the bed way too hot for her to sleep with you. Every so often, you have really bad nightmares, and normally slip in next to your older sister and be able to sleep in peace. However, she isn’t home, so you have to sit on the couch and watch the TV, at an hour where nothing good is on.

“Why are you up?” San’s voice startles you, and you spin around again to look where he’s coming from behind you. Your dog’s soft snores stop, but she doesn’t even roll over from her spot, falling back to sleep easily.

“Nightmare.” You shrug, turning back around and he shuffled sleepily around the couch to sit next to you.

“Couldn’t go back to sleep?” His eyes are almost closed, and his hair is mussed up. He’s wearing a pair of thin black pants with a thin sweater to sleep. The collar is very low, and paired with his wide shoulders, you can see most of his toned chest. By that point, you’re used to it, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t tempted to ogle him.

“No. I…Uh, normally crawl into bed with Nara, but…” You shrug again, pulling your fluffy robe back up to cover your shoulder, only in a thin tank top underneath. Picking at a stray string on your own thin pajama pants, you feel antsy under his gaze.

“What about Cookie?”

“She’s too warm…” You both sit in silence for a good minute or two, and you try to just watch the TV. It seems he’s thinking.

“Um, I’m going to use the bathroom… Do you… Do you want to sleep in my- Wooyoung’s bed with me?”

“No! I…I mean…” You clear your throat.

“I… That’s fine, but would you mind…using my bed?” You cannot sleep in Wooyoung’s bed, especially with San. You’re willing to try anything at this point, feeling exhausted, and you really need to sleep. Last time you tried to tailor a dress while so tired, you poked your fingers at least seven times.

“Yeah, be right back.” He flashes a sleepy smile, shuffling toward the bathroom, the sweater crooked, revealing part of his shoulder. Licking your lips, mouth suddenly dry -nervous- you shut the TV off, but hesitate to get up. When he comes back out, you finally force yourself up and you lead him toward your bedroom. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, your light string around the room glowing a gentle deep pink.

“You need that off?” you ask him, pointing at the lights.

“No.” He moves toward the bed, turning back to look at you, waiting. Swallowing hard, you undo your robe, acting like you’re naked underneath. After is falls, you dash to get under the covers, embarrassed about your think top and lack of bra. Gently, he gets on the other side, and you lie down stiffly, flinching when he pulls the blanket over himself, the higher up on you. Your face heats and since you have no makeup, you’re sure he can see you get red. Maybe not in the low light…

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” San’s voice is very soft, and you feel like crying. You’re not for sure if you’re just that flustered or embarrassed, or what. Just replying with a nod, you turn on your side, not really able to look at his face, but his hand is already up between the two pillows. Your hand shakes a bit, reaching for him, and he gives you a warm smile, linking his fingers with yours. He isn’t the biggest of the friend group, but he’s still much bigger than you, his hand nearly swallowing yours completely.

“I’m right here, you can go to sleep.” He whispers and you let your eyes close, hoping he can’t see the tears hanging on your lashes. It’s still taking you a while to fall asleep, lying there with your eyes closed for nearly half an hour. At this point, you’re more distracted with his hand holding yours than the thought of having another nightmare. San’s always so soft and gentle with you, despite his harsh appearance. He’s sweet and is always careful to make sure you aren’t too uncomfortable. You know, deep down, he probably likes you, but you just ignore the idea. It’s like some weird love mismatch going on. Your sister is in love with her friend-with-benefits, Wooyoung likes your sister, you like Wooyoung, and San likes you. You know Wooyoung likes your sister, but he has no chance in hell. Your sister is enamored with Younghoon, and the only reason they aren’t an actual couple is because she’s in denial, afraid of commitment, and doesn’t like feeling feelings.

Still being most awake, you have to make sure and hold completely still when you barely feel his fingers brush a stray strand or two of hair off your forehead. You hear and feel him shuffle just a bit closer, not having to far in your full-sized bed. Holding as still as you can, you tense further when he lightly presses a kiss to your forehead. You bite the inside of your lip to keep it from quivering. Only relaxing when he settles, you don’t open your eyes till you can tell he’s asleep from the way his breathing changes. Blearily, you look over his face, so peaceful and pretty. Despite falling asleep, his hand is still just as secure in yours. You wonder what time it is, and as you do, sleep slowly overcomes you as well.

~₸o₸~

When you wake up in the morning, your bed is empty next to you, and you can hear Cookie eagerly inhaling her food.

“Slow down, you’ll end up throwing up.” You hear San scold the dog and when you roll over to get out of bed, the clock reads 11:47.

“Shit!” You sit up quickly, yanking your tank top and pajama pants off, slipping on a bra, white t-shirt, and max dress over. Your hair is messy in its braid, but once you take it out, your hair falls in nice soft waves. Your feet softly thump on the hardwood floor as you job down the hall.

“Sorry I slept so late!” You call to hime, he’s resting against the counter, watching the husky rapidly crunch on her food.

“It’s okay!” He assures and you dash past the kitchen, toward your studio to start working. It’s good you work from home.

“I think it’s because I fell asleep so late!” The only reason he hears you was because he follows after you, plopping down in your rolling chair as you start getting pins and thread out.

“When do you have to go to practice?” San’s a dance instructor and it’s extremely convenient that his studio is just across and down the street a bit from your apartment complex.

“Three.” He gets up, turning the chair around so he can sit in it backwards, backrest to his chest. You huff, tucking hair behind your ear again, but it falls into your view again. Grumbling, you grab your glasses off the table, putting them on to rest on the end of your nose to get the right angle to focus on where you’re doing a difficult stitch. Gladly you can hear his footsteps on the wood floor; you’re able to prevent a flinch when his fingers find your hair. Kneeling behind where you are to get the right height, you force yourself to continue the stitch, just very slowly as he braids your hair for you. Not having a normal hair tie, he grabs a stray rubber band from your kit to tie the end.

“Thanks.” You murmur, pretending to be focused to hide your reaction. You hope your head is bowed enough he can’t see your red cheeks.

“What do you want for lunch?” You try to maintain some kind of casual normalcy. He hums and you can hear the chair roll and inch when he sits back down. Him watching you never fazed you before, but his gaze feels like fire on your back.

“Pizza?”

“Sure, if you get my phone, you can reorder what we got last time.” You wave toward your device on the desk next to you.

“Code?”

“Same as the front door.”

He types in the number, and you hear it click open, and he taps away on it. Glancing over at him, your eyes focus on where his partially unbuttoned shirt it tucked into his pants. You’d hemmed that pair of jeans so he wouldn’t have to pin them tighter anymore.

“Use the 3033 card?”

“Yes.”

“Twenty-three minutes.” He tells you, placing the order then goes to sit back down.

“How much?”

“Like eighteen.”

“Can you get me the thread in slot L-2?” you ask, motioning behind you toward the thread storage. He rolls over and you hear shuffling, keeping your hand out so he can rest the spool in it. Expecting him to just hand it to you, he actually gets out of the chair and sits on the floor next to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Buttons in this fabric tend to get loose easily, or fall off, so I’m having to fasten them differently. You deftly and quickly start your task, and he marvels at how fast you do it. Tying the thread off, you stick the needle in the pincushion you have on your wrist, grabbing a longer one again.

“You’re really good at his.” San looks at the smooth stitches you have done, even though they’re by hand, not machine.

“Practice.” You let a small smile grace your lips.

“Do you always do everything by hand?”

“Depends on what I’m doing most of the time, but some clients want it completely hand sewn.” You pull a pin out, dropping it back into the little box and continuing. You fall back into rhythm even with his intense gaze watching what you’re doing. His fingers mess with a scrap of fabric lying on the floor, then he picks it up, weaving random pins through it, trying to mimic what you’ve done.

“Can you teach me to sew?”

“Probably. It’s not hard. Getting to this point is though.”

“Did you teach Wooyoung?” Your hands freeze at the question, heart thudding harder.

“N-no. Well, I tried, but he kept poking himself.” He laughs.

“Sounds about right- ow!” Your eyes flick to him, sticking the end of his finger in his mouth, putting the pin riddled fabric down on the desk.

“Like that~” You giggle, and he huffs bashfully. He keeps watching, getting up quickly when the doorbell rings so he can get the pizza. Finishing your stitch, you take the pin cushion off and make sure there isn’t anything sharp on the floor, then lay your glasses down as well.

“Hot, hot!” He breathes hard through his mouth, trying to cool off the bite as you walk out. He wasn’t expecting the sauce to still be so hot, but the pizza place is very close. It only takes so long since it’s busy for lunch. You let him talk while you both eat, and you only partially listen, not understanding most of it anyway; some video game you haven’t ever played and have no knowledge of.

“I think I’m going to head to the studio now.” San helped you clean up, then sits on the edge of the entryway to get his shoes on.

“Bye, (Y/N)!” The door shuts, leaving you staring at it. Sight Deeply, you go back to your work, trying to not let your thoughts loop out of control.

~ų-ų~

Your eyes fly open, chest heaving, sweat pooling at the small of your back. Breathing hard, you stare at the small star-like dots on your ceiling.

“Fucking-“ You sit up, leaning forward and rubbing over your face with your hands. Huffing, you throw your comforter to the side and get out of bed. Stomping over to your dresser, you put on the pajama shirt that matches your pants over your tank. Grabbing your phone, you shuffle out to the living room, hesitating before dropping yourself and your device onto the couch. Looking toward the door to the other bedroom, it’s slightly propped open for the cat. Your dog is noticeably absent, so you walk softly over to the door, peaking in. Cookie is laying at the foot of the bed on a spare blanket San most likely had laid out, Byeol loafing in the curve of the husky’s body. The sight makes you smile, and you glance to where San is sleeping. Laid out like a starfish, the blanket hits him around the middle, and one of his feet is sticking out from under.

“(Y/N)?” His voice catches your attention when you start to step out of the doorway.

“Y-yeah?”

“Did you have another nightmare?”

“Yes.” When he starts to get out of bed, you try to protest.

“Come on.” He ignores your stumbling words, sliding past you in the doorway, his hand grabbing yours as he moves. He leads you back to your room, getting into your bed without hesitation.

“San-“ You get in as well, but stay sitting up as he lies down.

“Just…sleep.” He mumbles, grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you down into his arms. Shuffling under you so he can get more comfortable, your head ends up resting on his shoulder, his other arm around your waist. He falls back asleep fast, his fingers that were running over your hair stilling. Your heart is thudding hard, you can even hear it pulsing. How the hell are you supposed to fall asleep like this? You ponder the question, but at the same time, your eyes are growing heavy, and sleep is washing over you. At first, you’re only about half-asleep, somewhat aware still of his soft breathing. Right as you begin to actually go to sleep, you feel a soft press on the corner of your mouth. This wakes you up fully, but you manage to keep your eyes closed, body limp. Did he just kiss you? His fingers are back to running over your hair, “you have no idea, huh?” His voice is so quiet that even though your nose is near his throat, you barely hear it. San sighs, kissing your forehead, you can tell this time for sure. Finally, you can’t fight sleep off, and fall asleep in his arms.

~T3T~

Once again, when you wake up in the morning, he’s already out of bed. You can’t hear anything else, and when you glance at the clock, it’s a little past 9. Getting up with a stretch, you look to the empty side of your bed. Giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you pull the side of the comforter he’d been using up to your nose and you sigh. Smells like him, and you hate how good that makes you feel. Dropping the blanket like it’s got, you scamper out of bed and make your way down the hall. Peaking around the archway that leads into the main room of the apartment, you see he’s not in the kitchen and the bathroom door is open. Your dog barks happily and comes to greet you and as you pet her, you notice a note on the counter. He’s gone out to do some things and lets you know he’ll be back for supper. You aren’t sure if you’re disappointed or relieved at this. You only have two, maybe three more nights before your sister returns; Wooyoung is supposed to not long after. You’re worried what you might let, or want to, happen the longer you’re there with San, just the two of you. For some reason, you feel horrible about your rising affections with San, but you have no commitment to Wooyoung in any way but your own feelings toward him. It would probably be better if you try to move on, but there’s a small part of you that hopes your sister will get with Younghoon, then Wooyoung can move on and go to you. While you logically understand that will probably not happen, you still hope.

Continuing with your day as normal, you finish the suit you’d been working on and are able to move on to a dress that was commissioned. You enjoy making whole ensembles more than making adjustments and other altering jobs. Going over the list, you see you have nearly all of the materials and supplies already, but you most likely will need even more of the right color thread. You can wait a bit though, since you aren’t sure when you’d run out. As you’re rechecking your list, your phone starts to ring. Hitting the answer button and putting it on speaker, you put all the supplies on the desk.

“This is (Y/N).”

“Hello, Miss Hwang. I’m a delivery driver for Blooming Day Flowers. I’m just wanting to make sure you’ll be at home in the next fifteen minutes?”

“Oh, uh, yes.” You have no idea who could have sent flowers.

“Great, thanks!” He hands up and you blink back at the flashing ‘call ended’ on your phone. Trying to keep going with your job, it’s hard, your thoughts wandering to who the heck sent flowers. When the bell rings, you quickly go to the door and the man on the other side smiles, holding a bouquet of flowers in a vase. There are two different purple flowers, some a golden yellow, and more smaller white filler flowers.

“Oh, thank you!” You take the bouquet, and the man has you stamp on his clipboard. He takes his leave, and you move further into the apartment, door shutting behind you. Placing the vase on the counter, you pluck the little card from the top, reading the text on the front.

“Praying for a good night’s sleep! Inspired by holistic sleeping-remedy flowers: Lavender, Passionflower, California Poppy and Valerian!” You read out loud, figuring out who it’s from before you flip the card around. You have to take a deep breath, fighting back tears once again.

Thought this might help? ~San

You take several measured, deep breaths. It doesn’t work, a tear rolling down your cheek before you can stop it. Placing your hand down on the counter, you don’t have to get close to the bouquet to smell the fresh lavender. Not normally one for flowers, this is the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. You lick your lips, letting out a shuddering breath, you can taste the salt of your tears. You’d thought he has a crush on you -something small- but this? It seemed like he lo-

“Fuck.” You jaw clenches, the card crinkling where your thumb presses it too hard. Sniffing aggressively to prevent your nose from running, you let the card go, smoothing it out a bit. You sniffle had again, upset with your own mixed emotions and stomp back to your studio. You were trying but failing to continue working without getting tears and snot on the red fabric.

~τ-τ~

“(Y/N)! I got food!” You hear him easily even though you’re back in your room, the door closed. For the last house you’ve been sitting on the floor, back to the wall, facing your bed. You had tried lying down, but the comforter still smells like him. You tried to read and distract yourself, but you kept getting the pages wet. Tears are still drying on your face and new ones come up when you hear his voice. You’re so tired at that point, head pounding. Your hand is at your mouth, arms crossed on top of your knees, and you bite at your thumbnail. Working for another three hours after you got the delivery, you put it out of mind, but everything came back when you spotted them on the counter, coming out of your studio.

“(Y/N)?” San calls again, but you still don’t reply.

“(Y/N)?” He’s coming down the hall and you get up reluctantly, sniffing hard while grabbing a tissue. You blow your nose, and he knocks on the door.

“Come in.” Your voice is a bit hoarse and when he comes in, seeing your eyes and cheeks red, tissue rubbing at your nose, his face falls.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He immediately comes forward, hands going to your cheeks, thumbs running over the skin.

“J-just…” You force a smile.

“I was moved from you sending me flowers, then I was reading…” Your lie is pretty believable since your book is still open, face down on the bed.

“Oh.” He slumps in relief, and you wish he hadn’t removed his hands from your face.

“You really liked the flowers?” His brow furrows nervously.

“Yes, San. They’re…” Your breath shudders but you cover it with a soft chuckle.

“They’re beautiful, and so thoughtful.” You play with the balled-up tissue in your hand, not able to look him in the eye.

“Good! I got food from the place on the corner you like so much.” He leads you out to the main room and you slowly follow. You try to maintain your normal attitude while you eat, and it gets easier as you both joke and he tells you about his day. Your phone dings and you glance down. When the name registers, your entire body stiffens and you exhale hard, picking the device up to look at the message.

You doin’ good? Is Sannie playing nice?

Wooyoung…

“Is it Woo?”

“Yeah.” You nod a bit, typing out a simple ‘yes’, and send it. His phone dings then as well and he scoffs at what he reads.

“He knows you’re lying.” San shoots you a deadpan look and your jaw drops a bit, then you clear your throat.

“Why does he think that?”

“You didn’t capitalize it. It’s too short too.” San sticks his tongue against his cheek, making it poke out. You roll your eyes.

“Bitch.” You sneer, grabbing the phone and redoing the message.

I’m not lying. I’m busy. Grow up.

You aren’t normally terse with him like that. He’d definitely know something is up. Backspacing, you redo it once again.

I’m not lying. We’re busy eating. I’m fine, and yes, San is being nice. Really nice.

You hit send and you don’t get a reply after he reads it, but San’s phone goes off. He glares at what he sees, not bothering to reply himself, putting his phone face down on the counter; he even mutes it.

“What did he say?” You’re curious but try to maintain a neutral tone.

“Little shit, just something about not becoming your new best friend.” It’s a lie and you know it, but let the topic drop.

“I’m going to play a game with the guys for a bit, do you want to watch?”

“You’re gonna use Woo’s computer?”

“Sure am.” He smiles, his dimples revealing themselves. You consider it, then you’re about to say yes, then consider it again.

“I think I’ll finish the show I started the other day.” You tell him and he shrugs, going off to do what he said after cleaning up his dishes. You haven’t finished yet, so you take the last few bites, then just leave the dish in the sink. Slumping over to the couch, you put on the show and only kind of watch it. You’re rewatching it anyway…

~ò×ó~

“Fuck!” You sit up, your heart beating so fast, breathing so hard you feel like you’d just run a mile. Not caring how bad it messed up your hair, you bury your fingers in at the scalp, pulling on the strands to center yourself in the waking realm. Why the hell were your nightmares coming back so strong? In the low pink light of your room, you glare at the bouquet of flowers on your dresser. They did jack shit…

“Don’t take it out on the flowers…” You scold yourself, sitting back against the headboard. You do so quite hard, enough so to rattle the frame, and the attached nightstand. The glass of water you had on it falls over, the glass shattering on the hard wood.

“Shit!” You almost get out of bed, then move to go to the other side so you don’t land barefoot on glass.

“(Y/N)?” San peaks his head in, not in his pajamas yet, so he must’ve just gotten done with his game.

“Hey, wait!” He stops you as you move to start picking up the pieces, slippers on just in case. He’s in crocs, so he takes the trash can from you, using his sleeve over his hand to gently pick up the fragments and throw them out. He looks up when you hand him a roll of tape. He pulls the section off and tears it off, smacking it against the floor to pick up any small bits that might be left.

“What happened?” San throws the tape away too and you put the bin back down.

“I…I had another nightmare, and so I rattled the bed frame and the glass on the nightstand fell…”

“Another? Maybe you can’t sleep without me~?” He smirks playfully, but it falls when he notices you don’t even twitch your lips.

“Give me like five minutes.” He holds his hand up to motion for you to wait, heading back down the hall. Sighing you sit on the bed, feet on the floor. Staring at a small scratch on the wall that was left by your keys when you tripped and caught yourself once, you ponder what your bad dreams might mean. Why were you have so many? You almost never had more than one in such a short time frame. Was it really just from not having your sister around? That doesn’t make sense…

“Here, let’s get to sleep.” San comes back in, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Seriously? Out of all the things he could possibly wear, he has to put on that? Did he not know what the simple combination does to girls?

“Come here.” He’s gotten under the covers, arms open, waiting for you. Swallowing hard, you lie back down in his embrace, feeling comforted already. That scares you, honestly, almost more than the bad dreams.

“What are you thinking about?” He sees your pensive face.

“Nothing-“

“No. Tell me.” You huff in reply.

“Did…Did you kiss me yesterday night?” You feel him stiffen, much like you normally do.

“I did, on the forehead-“

“No. Tell me.” You shoot back at him. San stays quiet for a second and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

“Yes.” His reply is soft, like the kiss on the corner of your mouth from before.

“What do I have no idea about?” He really hadn’t thought you were awake, and he shifts nervously before responding. The man is taking his sweet time, and you’re about to give up, not having the energy to press the issue.

“How much…I like you…” He finally gets out; your suspicions are confirmed. He thought you’d flinch, stiffen up, even hitch your breath, but he gets nothing, so he pulls way enough to look at your face. It’s flat, but your eyes are glossy.

“How much?” His eyes widen at your question.

“How much?” He repeats.

“How much do you like me?” He licks his lips, nervous, but then the nerves seem to dissipate. The hand on your waist goes up to cup your cheek, the arm under your head wrapping around your shoulders. When his lips lightly touch yours, you at first thought the contact generated a static shock. But he doesn’t flinch back, instead he fully presses his lips to yours. You shiver, easily melting into the kiss. Your hands fly up to cup his jaw, the ends of your fingers burying into his hair. He grunts, rolling a bit so he’s leaning over you some. You whine when his hand rests on your hip, thumb brushing the exposed skin from where your tank top had rode up. Your hands move down, one going to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, the other slinking under the collar of his shirt, over his broad back. San takes the opportunity when your whine slightly parts your lips, tongue brushing the lower one. You let him in, whining louder as his tongue tastes yours. He’s over you complete then, forearm easily holding his weight over you, the hand on your hop slipping lower past the waistband of your sleep pants. Deep down, you know you shouldn’t, know you might regret it, feel horrible, feel like you used him, feel like you’re somehow betraying Wooyoung…

“(Y/N)-“ San pulls away from the kiss, both of your lips starting to swell from the pressure, saliva leaving a strand of connection.

“Just- please- need you-“ You heave out and he groans. Making sure he’s still closer enough to brush his lips over you, he gets up on his knees, kneeling over you more, one thigh pressing between yours to keep your legs open. He wrestles with his shirt a bit, pulling away enough to get it over his head and off, his mouth sealing back to yours as the throws the shirt behind him somewhere. As San’s tongue runs over your own, the roof of your mouth, your teeth, anywhere it can reach, you can’t help but feel over him. His soft skins stretches over his toned chest and abs, his broad shoulders and back leading down to his narrow waist. While he swallows your tongue and moans, his hands deftly undo the buttons of your pajamas shirt, hauling you up to sit so he can take it off. Your tank is swiftly removed as well, joining his own shirt somewhere on the floor. He bites your lip when he pulls back from the kiss, leading a trail down to your jaw, neck, over your throat and collar bone. His hands on your bare skin feel searing, one on your lower back to lead you to lift your hips. San leads you to wrap your still covered legs around his waist, his other hand cupping your breast, kneading the flesh, the skin pebbling into goosebumps from the sensation. You gasp hard as his lips warp around one of your nipples, and at the same time, he grinds his growing hard-on into your rapidly soaking cunt through bout of your pants. He’s spurred on by your breathing picking up, soft moans escaping you. As he kisses over to and seals his lips over your other nipple, he wrestles your pants and panties off at the same time.

“S-San-!” Your whole body twitches as his fingers meet your glistening folds, the first easily sliding in, wiggling against your walls.

“Fucking soaked, precious.” He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and through your fingers pressing against him. You mewl when his kisses go back up to your neck, full on whimpering when his tongue licks a path from the bow of your collar bone and up to the base of your ear.

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby girl.” His low voice, right in your ear, takes your breath away, his second fingers spreading you open. He tries to chuckle at your yelp as he softly presses his teeth against the skin of your neck, sucking hard, working blood to the surface of your skin to leave his mark.

“W-wat-!” Your body shudders, back arching, head thrown back when he adds a third finger, his thumb pressing over your clit.

“Gotta get your cute little pussy ready, you’re too tight for my cock, love.” San’s nose runs over your throat, then rests his forehead on your collarbone. He looks down at where you’re sucking his fingers in, not able to hold in his mirth. He loves how tiny you feel under him, writhing and whimpering. He’s been waiting for this for so long, and he knows you’re vulnerable, and shouldn’t be taking the opportunity, but he’s weak. If you’re going to ask for him, he’ll give you what you want.

“Fu- God! San~!” Your cunt clenches his fingers, pulsing with your heart as he circles your clit, lips going back to hover over yours.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He prompts and you immediately do, blunt nails digging into the skin of his upper back, head lolling against the pillow. San smirks above you, watching your eyes roll back in your head as your cunt spasms, soaking his hand. Your body shivers one last time as he removes his fingers, barely registering as he laps his tongue over his fingers, groaning at your taste. Your tired eyes try to focus as he climbs off the bed, trying to also figure out what he’s doing. You yelp when his hands on your ankles yank you down the bed, the comforter falling to the floor and he kneels on it, leveling his face with your swollen cunt.

“San-?!” Your voice ends in a very undignified choking sound as he buries his tongue inside your core, filling the voice his fingers had left. He wasn’t planning on fucking you open with his tongue; you taste too fucking good. His strong hands grip your inner thighs, so hard he’s definitely going to leave bruises, holding you open. Your body is still weak from your orgasm, so you can’t fight him anyway. San presses his tongue against your gummy walls, pulling back so he can swipe through your golds, then circle your clit. You’re still sensitive, the sensation jolting you, he can feel your muscles spasm under his hands. Your next orgasm is coming on fast, and your fingers weave through his hair, trying to ground yourself through your hands, his own not allowing your hips to ride his tongue.

“S-San~!” You fall apart on his tongue that time and he eagerly drinks and swallows every drop that falls from your needy cunt, reveling in the pleasure he’s bringing over you. Kissing your swollen nub, you whimper, and he stands up; even though his pants are loose, they’re tight around his hard cock. Your eyes are glazed over, head rolling to the side, staring at the wall. Your gaze is drawn back to him as he pulls the waistband of his pants and boxers up and over his swollen dick, and your mouth waters when the clothing falls away, leaving him naked.

“Fuck.” You huff, still catching your breath and he can’t fight the smug grin that spreads over his face. No wonder he felt the need to prep you, you don’t even know if you can get your fingers all the way around him.

“Come here, precious.” He easily lifts you to haul you back up the bed, gently letting your head hit the pillow. The other he brings to rest under your lower back, finally letting you down. Your hips angle up allows him to sit up higher on his knees to give him better leverage. When the fat head of his cock meets your cunt, you clench your jaw, readying for the stretch,

“Wait, do I need a con-“

“Just fuck me, San.” You want to sound more assertive, but you just whine like a spoiled child.

“Okay, precious~” His smirk grows, and he wraps his arm around your left leg by the knee, the other leg spread with his hand on your inner thigh. When San starts to press in, you gas with each breath, trying to breathe though him splitting you open. You’re so tight around him, gummy walls erratically spasming around his cock, your wet heat feeling incredible. He groans low and long as your cunt swallows each inch of him, somehow accommodating his thick length.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He coos as he bottoms out, adjusting your legs to spread you open even further, giving him a perfect view. You’re so wet, your slick already glistening on the base of his cock. Your entire body is in shock, almost. Everything seems to be spasming at him rearranging your guts, filling you so completely and wonderfully, you ponder if anyone could suffice after him. You’re already drunk on his delicious cock, and he hasn’t even moved yet. He can tell from having felt it on his fingers and tongue, that your cunt is throbbing, ready for you to cum again. He’s going to fuck you through your high so many times that tears would flow over your cheeks again, but from bliss instead of sorrow and frustration. He wants to fuck every little negative thought out of your pretty head, drive away the memory of the nightmares, wants to leave you with only thoughts of him; his hands, his lips, his tongue, his voice, his cock… He’s already making headway it seems.

“Can I move, precious?” San leans down to gently kiss at the corner of your mouth, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You nod, whining, not able to think to get a word out. He barely pulls out an inch, making you whimper, the searing stretch filling you with painful pleasure. San artfully snaps his hips, the tip of his cock hammering your back wall and cervix, pelvis meeting your clit, sending you even closer to the edge. The next thrust is a little deeper, a litter harder, and your whole body goes limp; the third thrust nearly makes you black out. Your cunt spasms, squirting slick and wet over his groin and balls, core clenching around his cock so tight he had to breathe hard to hold back, He chuckles as your orgasm waves through you over and over, and he wonders how long you’ve needed to get fucked. He’s so glad he’s the one to do so, and he’ll eagerly do it again and again, till you’re dumb and stupid for him. A tiny voice inside him keeps repeating to him that he’ll always be able to fuck you better than Wooyoung, that his best friend would never be able to ravish you the way he’s planning. Over and over-

“San, please, please…” He isn’t sure what you’re begging for, but your high has laid, so he continues. Throwing your legs over his elbows, pressing closer to you so you’re nearly folded in half, he huffs a laugh.

“You want me to fuck you good, love?”

“Yes!”

“Want my cock to fuck you stupid?”

“Yes, fuck, please~!” His hips roll, leaving only a bit more than the head of his cock in you, before filling you fast and hard again. Your kind of already flimsy headboard thuds hard against the brick wall, creaking under the power of his hips slamming his cock into you, skin slapping, grunts leaving him and mewls leaving you. Your fingers turn white as they grip your sheets hard, worried that the worn material might tear despite your blunt nails.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect, (Y/N)~” San groans, letting one of your legs go so you wrap it around his narrow waist. The now free hand grips over the one you had up by your head, easing your fingers out of the sheets so they can instead weave through his. San’s lips fall back to yours, thrusts growing shallower but no less hard, you feel like he might dislodge a kidney with the strength behind each motion. As his pelvis meets yours, he grinds into your clit, and you’re growing closer to another orgasm, and he’s planning on letting go with you. He tries so hard to maintain his rhythm, almost having to just grind into you to keep control, fucking so deep inside, you think he’s in your throat.

“Cum for me, precious. Come on my cock.” San pulls back from the kiss, and his words grant your relief, your final climax really does make your vision go black, flashes of white dotting your vision and his voice rumbles through the room as his hot cum paints your insides white. He cums so much that his release spills out from where he splits you open, a mix of your cum dripping onto the sheets. You fall limp like a rag doll, eyes closed, chest heaving, little whines accompany each breath. He’s heaving for air as well, the emotions he felt from finally being inside you, pleasuring you, hits him. If he already liked you, he’s truly infatuated now, never wanting to leave your hold or your warmth.

~(\δωδ(\~

When consciousness finally washes over you, it takes you a second to figure out why the hell you’re so sore. Your thighs are sore, random spots on your neck and shoulders, your hips, back, and cunt. Everything hits you then, and your body protests as you wiggle on the bed, trying to get the strength to sit up. Your bed is once again empty despite having shared it for the night.

“Fuck…” You wince as your lower half pulses as you get out of bed, legs incredibly weak. You’re naked as the day you were born, and you pretty much limp over to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you finally look in the mirror, gasping. There are several dark red and purple marks over your neck, shoulders and chest, one mark even has teeth marks.

“Choi San!” You scold despite his absence, rubbing the little bruises and wincing. You’re glad you work from home, because there’s no way to cover the hickeys in the middle of May. You take a shower, the hot water washing away many different layers from your body. You wince when the water flows over your sore pussy, still a bit swollen from being pleasantly ruined by San’s monster cock. Getting out of the shower, you get dressed in a matching tank top and shorts, the mint-colored fabric is soft and loose. There’s no way you can handle any pressure on your cunt, so you go commando. San’s already seen everything anyway. Nervously and shakily going down the hall to the main room, you hear the shower running. Cookie lifts her head from where she lays right in front of the door, slowly getting up and stretching before going to greet you.

“Good morning~” You coo at your pup and then limp over to the fridge; your dog whines a bit at your strange gait. She watches with interest as you pull some ingredients out of the fridge, needing some protein to compensate for the intense work out you’ve gone through. When your husky smells the bacon as soon as you open the package, she starts to wag her tail, whimpering.

“No begging.” You scold your dog, and she’s so well trained she simply hangs her head and trudges away, down the hall and presumably into your sister’s room. You barely hear the shower turn off and the door open over the popping and sizzling of the bacon and eggs in their pans. You assume he’d go to his room to get dressed, but you startle when he wraps his arms around your middle from behind.

“San, I’m cooking!” you scold, trying to pry his arms off of you. Your heart rate spikes, more from fear than bashfulness. You still haven’t processed what happened the night before, especially not emotionally.

“Sorry~” He giggles and lets you go, but only move to stand next to you. Your face is warm, and your eyes sting a bit, brow furrowing. Once all the food is plated and the heat of the stove is off, you turn to him, taking a step back.

“San, I think-“

“Let’s eat first, precious. I tired you out.” He takes both plates, walking around you to get to the dining table. You follow after him slowly and he pulls a chair out for you which you gratefully sit down on. Then you regret it, the hard wood pressing into your sore thighs and groin. You then notice he’s in a white tank top and blue track pants, towel around his neck. He always looks so good… Despite wanting to talk with him, you’re really freaking hungry, so you eat first, trying to ignore his warm and fond gaze. You know before you let him rail you into next week that you’d regret it. You do, you regret it and feel guilty; feel like you used him, feel like you betrayed Wooyoung… The final bite of food is harder for you to swallow along with the knot of emotions rising up. Your breath shudders, and he notices the tear fall from your eye and onto the empty plate.

“Hey, baby girl, what’s wrong?” He immediately get up, coming to your side and kneeling so he can look up at you. Your crying picks up then, your hands covering your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, scooting back and away from him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You repeat between each sob that makes you gasp, desperate to let out the emotions that’ve finally boiled over.

“Oh, precious.” He sighs, trying to pull you into a hug, but you push your chair back further, standing up so fast the chair rocks, then falls back, clattering onto the floor. San stays where he is, feeling utterly helpless as you crumble to the floor. You ball your firsts on the wood floor, tears splatting on your skin and the floor. Despite wanting so bad to go to you, he stays in the same spot, not wanting to step over the line.

“God, I’m such a fucking bitch.” You whimper to yourself, and he can’t disagree more.

“No, no, precious girl, you’re not.” He finally gets up, kneeling back in front of you, but not trying to touch or hold you.

“Yes, I am! I… God, I used you. I took the chance, and I shouldn’t have. I…what about…” You heave for air, and he feels his heart breaking. Sighing, he shifts to sitting with his legs crossed instead, waiting patiently for you to calm down.

“What about Wooyoung?” Your voice is quiet, but not only did he know what you were going to say, he had a feeling that’s what your issue is. He feels a bit like he took advantage of you since you were obviously emotionally weak at the time. Why do you feel like that though? Does it hurt to see you so upset because of your feelings for his best friend? Of course. But he knew the situation going into it.

“I’m sorry, San. I can’t do this… You’re Wooyoung’s best friend-“

“Are you in love with Wooyoung, or is it just a crush?” His question throws you off.

“I…I don’t-“

“Why are you waiting for him when it’s possible he’ll never go to you? I’m right here.” He insists and you sniff, trying to stop your tears.

“But if there’s a chance-“

“Look, I didn’t want to go here, but… Wooyoung is in love with your sister, okay? He doesn’t just like her, or have a crush on her, he’s in love. If you’re not in love with him, you can drop it, right? …I’m right here.” His voice gets a bit unsteady, his own emotions becoming difficult to control.

“I think you should go home.” Your sobs have quieted, but that sentence pierces him harder than everything else. He wants to argue, try and convince you, but if you need space, he’ll give it to you.

By the time his bag is packed and he’s leaving Wooyoung’s room, you’ve gotten up off the floor, picked up the chair and are cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

“If you need anything…” He drifts off, hand on the doorknob. You trudge over to the door as he opens it, planning on locking the door with the chair after he’s gone. You won’t meet his eyes, and he prays desperately that you won’t have a nightmare that night without him, or anyone else, there.

“When the door closes, you slowly lock it with the chain, dropping your hand. He’s standing on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave yet. He closes his eyes tight when he hears you start to cry again. You lean against the door after it shuts, sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing once again. You’re beginning to realize you like San…like him back. Maybe even more than Wooyoung, which terrifies you. Just over the short amount of time he’d been staying with you, he’s needled his way into your heart, more than just a friend. Little do you know, San is still on the other side of the door, trying not to cry himself listening to you sob. Your near wails quiet as new feelings bubble up. You thought you wanted him gone, so you can process, but thinking of him leaving shatters you.

“Please, please, please-“ He suddenly hears you speaking, stepping away from the door. He hears the chain rattle as you unlock the door, and open it. You aren’t expecting him to still be right there, but relief washes over you. You begin to cry again, more in relief, and he immediately goes back in. He drop his bag and returns your embrace, hugging him closer to you as you cry. San rests his cheek against the side of your head, petting your soft hair, a few tears of his own hitting your shoulder.

“(Y/N), oh sweet girl.” He sniffs, easily holding you when you go limp in his arms. You let him lift you princess style, refusing to loosen your arms’ hold around his neck and shoulders. Kicking the door closed, he carries you over to the couch, sitting down so you can sit on his lap. Your sobs cease, his hands rubbing comfortingly over your back.

“I’m sorry.” Your soft whimper hurts him; to hear you sound so defeated.

“(Y/N), precious, why are you so sorry?”

“I-I used you…”

“How?”

“I was upset and took advantage of your feelings for me.”

“I know.” You pull back abruptly, gaping at him.

“Sweetheart, I took advantage of you too. You were vulnerable-“

“San, San…” He starts to ramble nonsense, so you cup his jaw, bringing his attention back to you.

“I’m sorry I was being…” You lick your lips, thinking, “I let my feelings for Wooyoung cloud my real- You asked if I love Wooyoung? No, I don’t. It is just a crush…” Your thumb runs over his cheekbone, his wide, beautiful eyes shining up at you.

“I know that I’m not your first choice. I understand that. Honestly, I don’t care if I am your second choice, or even your third. All that matters, is that you choose me in the end.” You sniffle at his words, huffing a slightly sad laugh.

“I thought that there was only one choice, but…”

“But?”

“You’re right here.” You sigh, your own face softening; you’ve finally rationalized everything. Why your heart would thump so fast, why his actions would bring tears to your eyes… When you needed him to hold you to keep the nightmares away and why they came back when he wasn’t there…

“(Y/N)… I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but- I love you. I love you so much, I have for so long.” His own emotions are bubbling up, his own eyes tearing up along with yours.

“We’ve known each other, what, five years?” You nod, whimpering, trying to not cry harder.

“I started liking you three months in. It was when you went to adopt Cookie, and you were mobbed by all the puppies… You laid there, giggling, and I wanted to be one of those dogs. So bad.”

“F-for that long?” You’re so shocked you stop crying. San hums, rubbing your bag, hand slipping under your tank top.

“I’ve held back so much. Every time you have something on your lip, I want to kiss it off. If you’re cold, I want you to have my jacket. I want to buy every little charm or pretty thing that makes me think of you. To go to Namsan tower and put a lock on with you…” He stops when you slump forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he hugs you closer. Your heart wanted to break earlier, but all his words fill the cracks in with gold.

“I’m sorry I was so blind, and selfish, and stupid. I’m sorry I can’t say ‘I love you’ back, because I really don’t know at this point. But I do know-“ You sit up to look at him, “I really, really like you. Will you forgive me for being a horrible person?”

“You’re not a horrible person, sweetheart. Not only are your emotions everywhere, you’re sleep deprived.” His hand goes to cup your cheek, brushing another stray tear away.

“Will you show me something?” You bow your head a bit, face reddening, hands fiddling with the bottom of his sweatshirt.

“Whatever you want, precious.”

“Can you show me again, how you feel about me?” Your voice is soft, a bit embarrassed, thinking of what you had asked him last night. Yes, you’re sore, but in the best possible way, and you want- need him again.

“Are you sure, pretty girl? I don’t think I can hold back like last night.” His voice is lower, but his gaze has sharpened. What the hell does he mean by that? He held back? What the fuck is he going to do that’s more intense than last night.

“You held back?” You question and he huffs, a sexy and smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

“Hm. I did. Can you handle me full force?” His eyebrow raises in question, and you swallow hard; he can hear it.

“I think I can…” Your voice is quiet, quivering, but you’re excite. Your cunt throbs, still sore but you’re getting hot quickly.

“I need a solid answer, precious.”

“Yes. I can.” His smirk glitches into a giddy smile for a second, but he gathers his composure.

“What should I do first…” He wonders aloud, many different possibilities running through his head.

“Can I make a suggestion?” You try to sound coy and smug like him, but it doesn’t really work.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“I…” You exhale carefully, normally not so shy, “I want to swallow your cock.” Your eyes flit up to look at him and his eyes roll back in his head as he groans.

“Precious, are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you-“

“I want you to fuck my throat, then cum down it~” You’re building your confidence back up from the response you’re getting from him. Your lips are at his ear, your tongue flicking the little earring he had in, then you kiss the side of his neck.

“On the floor then, baby girl.” He almost gasps at how fast you scramble off of his lap, eagerly and obediently sitting on your knees. You watch with wide eyes as he takes his sweatshirt off, then removes the tank he had on underneath. San bites his lip, trying to not giggle as you ogle him. He notices your hands twitch on your lap, ready to take his pants off yourself.

“Tell me, do you mind if I do all the work?” The intention is clear in his words and tone.

“Yes, please~” You shuffle in your crouch, but stay still. Your eyes zero in on the bulge in his pants, whimpering in need as he once again lets his pants fall. His cock is only about half hard; you wiggle your jaw knowing it will end up sore too. You want to be sore completely and all over when he’s done with you. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking it a few times, stepping forward so he’s withing reach, but you stay still.

“What a good girl you are~” He hums, and you eagerly open your mouth when the head of his dick touches your lips. You groan at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around the tip, sucking lightly.

“Fuck-“ San sighs, hands going to your hair, leading his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. When he hits the back of your throat, you look up at him with wide, hazy eyes. As you hears you take a large inhale through your nose, he keeps going and your whole-body shudders as his cock goes down your throat. Your cunt clenches desperately against itself, not having anything inside to satisfy her.

“Of, fucking hell, sweetheart.” He groans, your nose pressing to his pelvis. He’s impressed you haven’t gagged yet, but you’re swallowing over and over trying to get used to the sensation. He stays there like that for a second, to the point where your head begins to swim a bit, the lack of air is intoxicating. When he pulls his hips back, just enough that you can desperately suck air in through your nose, he registers the depth that allows you to breathe.

“Count, precious. I’ll bottom out every five thrusts, ‘kay?” He instructs and you nod with a whine in acknowledgement. You try to hold your jaw in the same position, eagerly sucking on his cock as he thrusts, inhaling deep when he goes all the way. Each time he groans, grinding his pelvis against your face. You know he has stamina, and even though he doesn’t block your airway each time, your vision is spotting a bit, but not enough for you to stop him. The taste of his precum building makes your mouth water, a mix of your saliva and the salty fluid drips on the hardwood floor and your lap. The slick sound and the mess on your face and his cock brings him that much closer. San smirks at the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes, welling up from hit fat cock battering your throat.

“Mmh~ I’m going to cum down your throat, precious. Just like you want~” His airy chuckle turns to a groan, and he tosses his head back, struggling to keep his rhythm. His dick pulses hard on your tongue and you finally move yourself, hands going to his butt, holding him so he can’t pull back.

“Fuck-!” He grunts and cums, pumping thick globs of hot cum into your mouth and down your throat. You keep swallowing, only gagging a bit from the sticky substance, and he finally pulls out so you can catch your breath. More saliva and cum drips off your lips, your mouth open, panting. A drop lands on your chest, running down the skin and in between your breasts.

“Such a good girl, love~” San grins at your dazed expression, wide glossy eyes peering up at him.

“You safe?” You take a second to register his question, mind still foggy.

“Pill.” You manage to get out hoarsely, throat protesting for several reasons.

“Good, because I’m going to pump you full.” He smirks. You hold your hands up for him to help you stand, but he instead bends, wrapping his arms around your back and lifting you like a child under your arms. The ease to which he does so turns you on even more and you use your own core strength to lift your legs to wrap them around his middle.

He walks forward, pressing you into the wall by the door, cock fully hard again, rubbing over the damp spot of your shorts. Working with him to get your clothes off, you shorts are still dangling off of your ankle when his cock plunges into you. The sudden burn makes your cunt clench hard around him and he hisses, still a bit sensitive from his orgasm. You’re plenty wet, and he’d just fucked you only hours prior, but he’s so big. IT makes sense why he prepped you before, and it doesn’t help you’re still sore. But you couldn’t care less, the stinging pain just adds to your euphoria.

San groans when your nails dig into his back for leverage, scratching red welts into the skin.

“Ready?” He doesn’t wait for your response, thrusting up hard and shallow twice, then rolling his hips to slam into you full force. You throw your head back, hitting the wall a bit hard, but you’re too immersed in San and his animal pace. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. He has your legs over his elbows again, getting as close to you as he can, piercing your core with sharp movements, dragging you hopelessly fast to orgasm. It’s hard to catch your breath and moan, let alone speak words, tears built in your eyes. When they roll over your cheeks, he leans in to lick the salt away. He hates seeing you cry from sorrow or from being upset, but watching tears of pleasure flow over your red cheeks go straight to his cock. So cute…

“You’re so freaking pretty, precious. Love my cock so much you just wanna cry?” His chuckle’s slightly patronizing.

“Just go dumb, baby girl, think of nothing but my dick in your tight little cunt.”

“San!” You gasp, your next climax starting. He slows his pace so you can ride the waves, but doesn’t want to overstimulate you yet, so he forces his pelvis against your swollen clit. With each rolling crest of pleasure, your cunt leaks, making another mess on the floor.

San pulls away from the wall, walking to a different part of the apartment and you protest vehemently when he slowly pulls his cock from your still spasming pussy. He sets your feet down, spinning your around and you immediately place your hands on the window to stay upright- Wait, window?! You gape, looking out toward the park you can see from the window.

“S-San-?”

“No one can see you up here, at least I don’t think…” He chuckles and doesn’t allow any more argument and fucks back into you.

“Fuck~!” You nearly scream. Somehow, he’s eve deeper than before, and the front of his hips slap against your ass with each pound. Your hot breath is fogging the window, even the heat from your palms does so. San’s fingers press so hard into your flesh; you know there will be bruises there for sure, maybe darker than the faint yellow ones on your inner thighs from the night before. Struggling a bit with the height difference, you’re forced onto your tip-toes, legs quivering as each stroke of his thick cock saps more and more of your strength.

“Huh- I’m close precious. Gonna fill you up, fuck you full~” He licks his lips like a hungry dog. You squeak when his strong grip weaves through your hair, wrapping your braid in his fist, tugging lightly as he grinds his cock as deep as possible, filling your womb with even more of his seed. It’s so hot; he’s so deep and even the sensation of him tugging on your hair feels so good. Your body ekes out another smaller orgasm, helping him ride his out. He’s still hard, albeit a little bit less so. You don’t know if your poor little cunt and body can take much more, but your mind doesn’t care. If he wants to rail you till you pass out, you would thank him when you came to. When San pulls his cock out again, more globs of cum leak out of your abused hole, which is still twitching. He smirks at your quivering body, not having moved much, and coos as he easily picks you up like a sack of potatoes, then transitions to a princess carry. Your head flops as you pant for air, waiting patiently as he carries you back to your room, shutting the door to prevent your pup from following. However, when he puts you on the bed, he doesn’t join right away, instead heading for your standing mirror. He moves it to rest facing the side of your bed and you hazily register the act. Letting him maneuver you, he sits with you on his lap, back facing him, proud cock arching against your cunt.

“Look there, precious.” His hand lightly grips your jaw, forcing your head to turn and see your reflection. You’re an absolute mess, but you’re too focused on his equally messy cock and the fact that it still isn’t back inside you.

“San, hurry, please!” You whimper and he chuckles at your insistence, lifting you and slowly pushing you down onto him again. His legs are spread so your knees rest over them were spread wide too, leaving a perfect view of your small pussy taking his girthy dick.

“Fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)~” He praises, kissing the side of your head, jaw still in his grasp to make sure you watch.

“I want you to remember this, how it looks when I fuck you, and that no one will ever be able to after me.” His words make you whimper, the small noise rising in pitch and volume as he starts to thrust up into you, also moving you with the arm around your middle. Like you’re being hypnotized, you watch San’s cock pull out halfway before sinking back into you, so much cum and slick dripping from where he sits inside you.

“You’re so hot like this.” San grunts, the hand on your stomach sliding down to circle your clit. It stings, you’re overstimulated, and you feel his dick pulsing; he’s close too.

“One more for me precious, one more~” He coaches, then one, two, he cums again. There’s no more room inside you, the thick white jizz spills over, mixing with the squirting slick and making yet again another mess on the floor. You’re both panting, reveling in the afterglow, and sleep is trying to consume you once again. Later, you’re mad at yourself for not choosing San sooner. He never should’ve been the second choice.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

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ncillary · 2 months ago

Text

Self Aware AU (Xavier)

Summary: You have the lowest Affinity with Xavier. The reason is because you feel bad for the Queen MC and vow to play only the main story for his path so that you can find a way to return him to Queen MC safe, sound and happy end.

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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| 1 [current] | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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"Why you keep staring at your phone with that dull face?" Your friend asked.

"Huh? Oh? Nothing-"

"That otome game again?" Your friend perked up knowingly.

You nodded. Your friend gestured for you to just let out of what's on your mind. You sighed. It begun.

"I just... feel bad that I always stalled the Affinity progress with Xavier. I kinda need him for Battle and not that I don't enjoy the time with him. But... he.. I want a happy ending for him."

"Isn't being with you-"

"MC"

"-sigh- Isn't being with MC, still means YOUUU, means that you achieved it? It's the core of every otome game, right?"

"I get that. But! He has someone. The true one. Queen MC. THAT'S where HE belongs. I'll return him to her. No bargain or ANY sacrifice mambo jambo. I'll build Ulruru just for their happiness. I swear."

"It's just a game. You just follow the story. If the developer did it any other way than you are forced to follow anyway. Not that you can exactly do anything about the story progress."

"Yeah... Knew that. Doesn't mean that it's not my deepest wish for Xavier and Queen MC to be happy together. My MC was made to support in any way possible."

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"Oh. A new event! Nice... Huh? Ohhhh no no no no no... First kiss! Arghhh... But the storyline is nice. Haa... ... ... bye Xavier, hope we can enjoy another fluffy limited 5* withOUT the heavy lover-indication. My MC is just your close companion." You smile before closing the game.

The LI assigned there at the time faded. A new blurry began to form until it revealed Xavier. Eyes closing as the pixels reform him to a complete 3D appearance. Fluttering open, he stared at the door, feeling the empty cafe.

"I'm here. Please see me. I want to see you more."

He slowly sat on the sofa and gradually fell asleep.

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Giggling. Feeling shaky slightly.

He stirred a bit.

Hushed voice, soothing, "Oh shoot. Sorry Xavier. Maybe I should turn off the gyro setting."

He blinked quickly and looked up. There she is. The MC. Unmoving. He quickly got up. Trying to step as close as he can to her but his feet could only settle a bit far from her unless he prompted the correct dialogue that let him get a breath away from the MC. He knew she was a proxy for the person behind the dark screen. Oh how he wished she would just reveal her face to him. But it's a good thing he at least got to hear your voice. The sound he wanted to touch the most everyday.

"Wow. You never get bored wearing that sweater. Guess it's that comfortable, huh. I get it. I hope you change to a better attire once the heat gets too much."

You're there. He can activate the prompt now.

"This is the Second Law of Cosmic Attraction."

He walked closer. Hearts thumping. Happy to be able to get closer to you. But his coded face wouldn't show how much he was actually grinning with glee.

"We'll meet those we yearn for again. No matter how long it takes."

His feet automatically dragged him back too soon for his liking.

"Hahahahaha... You and your Cosmic Law."

She proceeded to claim the Stamina for the morning. Quickly closing the game before he could prompt another dialogue.

His rigidness turned off. He could only move freely when you're not logging in.

"Dang. I should be faster next time. I hope I can force myself out this evening."

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"Haaa... It's already this late. Glad I have Free Retro this time. Huh? Xavier? This is not your usual appearance time. Oh no... Did our Affinity go up? -tap- -tap- -tap- huuu~ -tap- false alarm. Guess this is one of the rare occurrences. We'll... -yawn- m'nite Xavi-"

"I won't slip away today. I'll stay and chat with you for a while longer."

(Please stay. Please. Please. Please.)

"Hmmm... right... Weekly Plan... Didn't think finish yet. -tap- -tap-"

"When you spend your time with me. I'm spending my time with you."

(YES! YES! Go on! As long as you like!)

"Hmmm... Work... Study... Why can't there be just lounging around? We'll I'm off work. Study is better. Search all those recipes you want, Xavier."

He could hear her faint chuckling laced with tiredness.

"5 minutes-ah..."

He was sitting suddenly with MC in front of him. Studying.

"Oh to heck. 15 minutes it is. I'll just be quick and settle myself in."

He could hear walking. A light thump. Possibly she set the phone on a surface near her. Faucet running. Teeth brushing. Faucet running. Walking again. Switch sound. Lights off probably. Scrunching sound. Bluetooth connection on.

"Easier to hear that 'zwing' sound when it's complete. Let me just... haaa... release the tense of today."

He could hear you relaxing with an occasional pained sound. He got worried.

"Gosh. My shoulder is hurting. Maybe I should restock the pain relief patch tomorrow."

She breathed slowly. Slower. Barely there.

(...Is she...asleep?)

*zwing*

"Woah... I could move. And speak freely. Hahahaha... Your phone's gonna be out of juice soon. Hope you can wake up okay tomorrow."

Silent.

He cleared his throat.

"I can hear you. The real you. I'm real. Real like you. Queen MC is not you. I get it. But I want you. The real you. So please just increase our Affinity so that I can get a better control to reach out to you. I'll try to get to you too... ... ... I... ... like you."

Darkness plunged his consciousness. The battery must've died.

"I'll get to you."

A determined promise.

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| 1 [current] | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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Masterlist of Self Aware AU

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#love and deepspace #xavier #self aware au #fanfic

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dee-writes-anime · 5 months ago

Note

Cute fluffy Dabi story alert!! Your gonna love it 🥰

Dabi with a female chubby civilian girlfriend who he’s all lovey-dovey for, but one day he told her about he’s a villain? (After he ran into Mr. Compress and Toga on his way home) but she laughed and told him that she knew all along and that she loves him. And then Dabi introduced her as his fiancé to the league, she also explained that her quirk is a healing based but the healing part comes from the food she makes (like Julieta from Encanto)

Just Good Enough For You

FEATURING Touya 'Dabi' Todoroki x Reader

SUMMARY No matter who you are, you are just good enough for me.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, LOV crack, Dabi (ifykykyk), mentions of villiany and murder and stuff :)

AUTHORS NOTE stopppp cause this was the cutest, most wholesome request everrrr!!! Thank you so much for sharing this lovely thought with me, I really hope you enjoy how I brought it to life! <3 P.S. I promise the Toge fic is coming, college is eating me alive RAHH

Dabi had never been the type to hesitate. He’d burned bridges, enemies, and even his own emotions without so much as a second thought. But tonight, standing just outside your shared apartment, his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets, he was hesitating.

He wasn’t sure how you’d take it.

A villain. A murderer. That’s who he was. And yet, somehow, you’d always looked at him like he was so much more. Like you saw past the charred skin and the cold eyes, straight into whatever piece of humanity he had left. And it scared the hell out of him.

He could still hear Mr. Compress’s voice ringing in his ears from earlier that day.

“So, when are you going to tell your girlfriend who you really are? She’s bound to figure it out sooner or later.”

Toga had chimed in too, her high-pitched giggles grating on his nerves. “Oh, I bet she’d love to see your flames up close! You should show her! I mean, doesn’t she already wonder where you go when you disappear for days?”

He’d brushed them off, made some snide comment about minding their own business, but the truth was, they’d struck a nerve. Deep down, Dabi knew it was only a matter of time before you found out, and he hated the thought of you hating him when that moment came.

With a sigh, he finally pushed open the door and stepped inside, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. The smell of something savory cooking wafted through the air, and despite his anxiety, he couldn’t help but smile faintly. You always seemed to know when he needed comfort. Food had a way of soothing him in ways words couldn’t, and you, with your quirk and your gentle soul, were the only person he’d ever trusted to get close enough to touch his heart.

“Hey, lover,” your voice called from the kitchen, light and warm, like always. “You’re home late. Hungry?”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked toward the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you move around the stove. You were wearing that oversized sweater he loved, the one that made you look extra cozy and cute. He’d teased you about it once, calling you a “walking marshmallow,” but secretly, he adored how soft and chubby you looked in it.

“Babe?” you called out again, glancing over your shoulder. “Everything okay?”

His silence must’ve tipped you off because the smile you wore faltered slightly. Turning off the burner, you wiped your hands on a towel before crossing the room to him. The concern in your eyes only made the lump in his throat worse.

“Touya… what’s wrong?” you asked softly, your hands reaching out to grasp his scarred fingers.

He flinched slightly at the use of his real name. You always reserved that for the moments when you wanted to break down his walls. And damn it, if you weren’t good at it.

“I need to tell you something,” he finally muttered, his voice rougher than usual. His hand squeezed yours tighter, as though preparing himself for the worst. “Something you probably won’t like.”

The worry on your face deepened, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you stepped closer, your thumb brushing over his scarred knuckles in that soothing way you always did when he was tense. “Whatever it is, just tell me. You know I’m here for you.”

He swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise uncomfortably in his chest. Why was this so damn hard?

“I’m not who you think I am,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. His eyes dropped to the floor, unwilling to meet your gaze. “I mean, you know my real name, but you don’t know what I’ve done… who I’ve become.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you tilted your head slightly, waiting for him to explain. He’d never been one for long-winded speeches, so he forced himself to just rip off the band-aid.

“I’m Dabi,” he said in a low voice. “The villain. You’ve seen me on the news, you know the stuff I’ve done. I’ve killed people. Burned them alive.” His jaw clenched, his entire body stiff with guilt and fear. “And if you’re smart, you’ll walk away. Right now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. He expected you to recoil in horror, to pull your hand away from his like his very touch would burn you. Maybe you’d cry, or worse—maybe you’d just look at him with that quiet disappointment that always cut deeper than any insult.

But you did none of those things.

Instead, you blinked, a slow smile spreading across your face like you’d just heard the punchline of a joke. “Touya, seriously? Is that what you’ve been so worked up about?”

He frowned, clearly thrown off by your reaction. “What?”

“Babe,” you said with a soft laugh, stepping even closer to him, “I already knew.”

Now it was his turn to blink in confusion. “You… knew?”

“Of course I knew.” You grinned, tapping his chest lightly. “I’m not stupid, you know. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. You smell like smoke, you disappear for days, and your scars… I put two and two together pretty quickly.”

His mouth opened, then closed, as he processed your words. “You… knew?” he repeated, dumbfounded.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Yes, I knew, and I didn’t care. I still don’t care.” You cupped his face gently, your fingers brushing the rough, scarred skin that covered his jaw. “I fell in love with you, Touya. The man who comes home tired but still lets me cuddle him, the man who watches stupid shows with me even though he pretends he hates them, the man who makes me feel safe no matter what.”

Dabi was silent, his throat tight as your words washed over him. He had prepared himself for anger, rejection—hell, maybe even fear—but he hadn’t prepared himself for this. For you.

“How can you love someone like me?” he rasped, his voice cracking. “I’m a monster.”

You shook your head, your eyes softening. “No, you’re not. You’re just… hurt. And yeah, you’ve done bad things, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” Your lips curled into a small smile. “Besides, I’ve seen how you look at me. You’re not as cold as you think.”

He let out a shaky breath, leaning into your touch. For the first time in years, he felt something warm spread through his chest, something that wasn’t the familiar burn of rage or vengeance. It was something else. Something softer.

“God, you’re too good for me,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

You grinned, tugging him closer until your foreheads were almost touching. “I'm just good enough for you, lover, and lucky for you, I’m sticking around either way.”

His lips twitched into a small, rare smile. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, burying his face in your hair. “You’re insane,” he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. “Completely insane.”

“And you’re stuck with me now,” you teased, your voice muffled by his chest.

For a long moment, you stood like that—holding each other in the quiet comfort of the small apartment. Dabi’s heart was still racing, but it wasn’t from fear anymore. It was from something else. Something that made him want to protect you even more fiercely than before.

“You know what?” he murmured after a long silence. “I think it’s time you meet the rest of the family.”

A few days had passed since Dabi’s revelation, and despite the whirlwind of emotions that had followed, things between you and him hadn’t really changed. You still made his favorite meals, still teased him when he sulked around the apartment, and he still pretended to hate your random affection while secretly basking in it. But there was something else now—a quiet understanding that ran deeper than it had before. You knew who he was, what he had done, and you loved him anyway. And he, in his own rough-edged way, was learning how to accept that love.

Still, there was one thing he hadn’t prepared for yet—introducing you to the League of Villains.

The thought had been gnawing at him ever since that night. You had joked about being stuck with him, and in a way, you were. But to be truly part of his world, you had to meet the people he spent his days (and often his nights) with—the people who lived in the same shadows he did.

So, that evening, as you finished plating dinner, Dabi casually dropped the bomb.

“By the way,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, “you’re coming with me tomorrow.”

You glanced up from the dish you were preparing, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Where are we going?”

“To meet the League.”

There was a moment of silence as you processed his words, and then you blinked, a slow smile spreading across your face. “The League? You mean, your League? The League of Villains?”

“Yeah, them,” he muttered, clearly not as thrilled about the prospect. His fingers drummed on the countertop, betraying his anxiety despite his nonchalant tone. “They’ve been pestering me about you for a while, so I figure it’s time they meet you.”

Your smile widened as you set the dish down, turning to face him fully. “You want to introduce me to your friends? Does this mean I’m officially your girlfriend or something?” you teased, though there was a hint of genuine excitement in your voice.

Dabi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve always been my girlfriend. This just makes it… official, I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck, his usual confidence wavering slightly. “But don’t get too excited. They’re not exactly what you’d call ‘nice.’”

You chuckled, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I think I can handle it,” you said softly, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. “Besides, if they’re important to you, then I want to meet them.”

Dabi’s gaze softened, his hands instinctively finding their way to your hips. For a moment, he simply looked at you, his heart doing that annoying thing where it felt too big for his chest. “You’re too good for this world, you know that?”

You shrugged playfully, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “I’m just good enough for you.”

The next evening, Dabi led you through the dimly lit streets of the city, the familiar scent of smoke and charred wood lingering in the air around him. He didn’t say much as you walked, though his hand never left yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a grip that was both possessive and protective.

As you neared the League’s hideout, an abandoned bar tucked away in a forgotten part of the city, he paused, turning to face you with a serious expression. “Last chance to back out,” he said, his voice low. “Once you meet them, there’s no going back. They’re… different.”

You squeezed his hand, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’m not scared, Touya. I want to do this.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening as he led you inside.

The bar was just as you expected—dark, dingy, and reeking of old alcohol and stale cigarettes. The wooden floor creaked under your feet as you followed Dabi through the narrow hallway that led to a back room. The faint sound of voices echoed from behind a door at the end of the hall, and Dabi paused once more, his hand gripping the doorknob.

“They’re gonna say some weird stuff,” he warned, his voice barely a whisper. “Don’t take it personally.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Weird how?”

“You’ll see.”

With that, he pushed open the door, and the first thing that hit you was the distinct atmosphere of chaos. The room was a cluttered mess of mismatched furniture, papers, and random objects strewn about haphazardly. Several figures were gathered around a large table in the center, and as the door creaked open, all eyes turned toward you.

Toga was the first to react, her eyes lighting up with unrestrained glee. “Oh my god, Dabi! You brought her!” she squealed, bouncing to her feet and rushing toward you with the energy of a hyperactive child. “She’s so cute! I can’t believe you didn’t tell us she was this cute!”

You barely had time to react before she threw her arms around you in a surprisingly tight hug. “I’m Toga!” she chirped, pulling back to examine you with wide, curious eyes. “I’ve been dying to meet you! Dabi talks about you all the time!”

“He does?” you asked, glancing at Dabi with a teasing smirk.

He scowled, crossing his arms. “Don’t listen to her.”

Before you could say anything else, a tall man in a mask stepped forward, his posture refined, yet his eyes glimmered with amusement. “Ah, so this is the famous girlfriend,” Mr. Compress said smoothly, giving you a polite bow. “I must admit, I was beginning to wonder if you were a myth.”

Dabi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, she’s real. Get over it.”

Shigaraki, who had been sitting at the head of the table with his usual scowl, barely glanced up from the game console he was playing with. “Great. Another normie.” His voice was dismissive, though you could sense the underlying curiosity behind his disinterested exterior. “Hope you’re not too soft.”

“Trust me,” Dabi muttered, shooting Shigaraki a look, “she can handle herself.”

“Yeah,” you added, smiling sweetly. “I’m not as soft as I look.”

Toga clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing up and down beside you. “Oh, I like her! Can we keep her?”

“Relax, Toga,” Dabi grumbled, his hand finding its way to the small of your back as he subtly pulled you closer to his side. “She’s not a pet.”

Twice, who had been unusually quiet until now, suddenly burst into laughter. “A pet? That’s hilarious! But wait, no, I think she could be a pet! Or maybe a partner! Or maybe—”

“Twice, stop rambling,” Compress interjected with a chuckle. “You’re going to overwhelm the poor girl.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the chaotic scene unfolding around you. It was clear that Dabi’s ‘family’ was as strange and dysfunctional as he had warned, but there was also something oddly endearing about them. Despite their rough exteriors, they welcomed you with open arms—or at least, most of them did.

As the banter continued, you caught Shigaraki glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his fingers twitching slightly as if he was itching to say something. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

“So, what’s your deal?” he asked bluntly, his voice as rough as the skin peeling from his lips. “You got a quirk or something?”

Dabi stiffened slightly beside you, but you remained calm, meeting Shigaraki’s gaze evenly. “Yeah, I do,” you said, your voice steady. “I can heal people.”

Toga’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really? You can heal? That’s so cool! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“It’s not as simple as it sounds,” you explained. “The healing comes from the food I make. It only works if someone eats something I’ve prepared.”

There was a brief moment of silence as everyone processed your words. Then, Twice broke the tension with a loud, exaggerated gasp. “She can cook?! Oh, we’re definitely keeping her!”

“Food that heals,” Compress mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “That’s quite an unusual quirk.”

Shigaraki, however, didn’t seem as impressed. “Great. A chef,” he muttered, turning his attention back to his game. “As long as you’re not a liability.”

You felt Dabi tense beside you, his jaw clenching, but before he could snap at Shigaraki, you placed a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I’m not a liability,” you said firmly, looking directly at Shigaraki. “I’m here for Dabi, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Shigaraki didn’t respond, but there was a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment that you had passed some unspoken test. Dabi’s hand tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as if to silently thank you for standing your ground.

As the evening went on, the tension eased, and you found yourself surprisingly comfortable in the midst of the League’s chaos. Toga was glued to your side, bombarding you with questions about your quirk and your relationship with Dabi. Twice kept bouncing between joking and making bizarre plans for your future involvement with the League, while Compress continued to make polite conversation, ever the gentleman.

Shigaraki, for the most part, remained focused on his game, though you caught him watching you occasionally, as if trying to figure out where you fit into their world.

And Dabi—well, he was quiet, but there was a certain calmness to him that you hadn’t seen before. He stayed close, his arm resting around your waist or his hand brushing against yours, as if grounding himself in your presence.

By the time you left the hideout, the moon high in the sky, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You had survived your first meeting with the League of Villains, and despite their quirks—both literal and figurative—you could see why Dabi had chosen them as his found family.

As you walked home hand in hand with Dabi, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, he finally broke the silence.

“So… what do you think?”

You glanced up at him, your lips curling into a soft smile. “I think they’re… different,” you said with a chuckle. “But they’re important to you, so they’re important to me.”

Dabi’s expression softened, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “You really are too good for this world.”

You shook your head, leaning into him as you continued walking. “No, I’m just good enough for you.”

For the first time in a long time, Dabi smiled—really smiled.

And in that moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, you could face anything.

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