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cinnaminsvga · 8 months ago

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Harana | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.

Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits.

Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country.

It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.

“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend.

“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.

You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly.

When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank).

Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).

Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored.

So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that.

The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was.

He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.

“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment.

Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”

“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage.

You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction.

“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!”

From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.

When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.

“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.

You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”

You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”

And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”

“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?”

This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.

However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.

So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.

xxx

Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.

On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks.

It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding.

An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…

It’s worse.

Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.

It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone.

“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still.

You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—

Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.

You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him.

And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident.

At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way.

Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture.

This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.

But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?

But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you.

Painfully and pathetically you.

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.

Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.

Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you.

Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”?

The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot.

Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly.

Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—

“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute.

Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.

It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.

When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?

As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night.

You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.

“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?”

“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”

“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”

You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”

Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”

Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”

“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively.

“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically.

You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)

“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.

“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying.

Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason.

Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching.

You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.

The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding.

Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly.

Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face.

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.

He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”

You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.

Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you.

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.

You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text.

Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.

Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time.

You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy.

He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”

Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.

“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”

You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.

Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”

You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”

Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense.

“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.

“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”

Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.

And so, you hear him before you see him.

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—

Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement.

You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him.

He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.

“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same.

Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”

You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.

Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.

Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray.

Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!

“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him.

You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream.

Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.

It is clear to you that there is no other option:

You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name?

You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers.

Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.

“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.

At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform.

Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?”

You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.

When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful.

You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything.

You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight.

“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.

You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom.

This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through.

You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do?

xxx

He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought.

“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift.

Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance.

However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage.

At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.

But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people… Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)

You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology.

You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years.

Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?

Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.

“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.

In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.

It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”

“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”

Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”

You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”

Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:

“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”

“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.

Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”

“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”

“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”

“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.

“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug.

Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.

You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.

“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.

“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.

Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache.

The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.

Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?

You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?

You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor.

The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well.

Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers.

“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.

This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”

He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”

Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.

You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.

Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:

You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten.

He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.

(Not anymore.)

“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.

“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him.

“What’s it about this time?”

His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”

You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”

He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.

During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.

How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.

You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him.

You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.

“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick.

“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.

“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses.

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”

Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer.

“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you.

Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”

“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.

“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.

At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears.

Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant.

“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.

“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder.

When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back.

Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky.

“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.

He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought.

He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.

With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.

You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.

Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster.

Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”

You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.

Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”

“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one.

He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.

When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.

You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.

Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.

When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook.

You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.

Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)

Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind.

“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.

To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.

You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you.

Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.

“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs.

You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.

You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again.

In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.

You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out.

What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?

Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.

“I… I just wanted to say—back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”

He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you.

He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”

“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.

Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”

He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”

A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?

You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.

Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?

Who are you, even? And where do you stand?

(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)

You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent.

His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix.

He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.

It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.

During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it.

As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.

What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.

Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.

You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.

You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.

“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow.

You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.

As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles.

Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”

Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter.

Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”

All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.

It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.

Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope.

“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.

“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.

“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that.

“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”

“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”

Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.

Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.

In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears.

At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.

He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!

“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.

You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.

You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”

“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.

You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”

Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”

“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer.

Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—

“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”

Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”

There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too.

When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"

Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.

There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.

Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.

Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers.

You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare.

You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”

“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”

“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”

“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”

In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind.

“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class.

You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?

The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel.

But you do know, the universe responds.

I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond?

Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing.

“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation.

“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat.

Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.

You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance?

You nod, and seal your fate.

He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air.

Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.

He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.

Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.

Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go

xxx

Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.

In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.

Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.

“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you.

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door.

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic

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focalove · 9 months ago

Text

Bathing with him

Cw! : gn!reader....... with some mentions of maybe f!/m!reader, mentions of d*ck, nothing too explicit. written before sunday & aven release!

Aventurine

✦ 01 bb come home the kids miss u :(

✦ 02 Though, by all means, Aventurine never or rarely reveal his ✦ bare naked self infront of anyone. So congratulations for achieving this level of intimacy with him

✦ 03 At first he'd be so cocky and teaseful when you asked him if you wanted to bath with him

✦ 04 "Oh? princess/prince-y here wants to bathe with me? well what's the occasion, or are you just that touch starved?" he snickered with a smirk of a devil in his face

✦ 05 I also think he'd also ask you to undress you to like "sweetie… I don't think I can take off my shirt… can you help me?" and he would be dangling his chest window area

✦ 06 and his pants too maybe, to show you his d---

✦ 07 anywayz, when both of you finally get in the bathtub, he'd be so shy

✦ 08 pls lead him!! princess needs his directions on how to do it correctly :<

Aventurine had a big bathroom. Big bathtub, a lot of space, fully furnished bathroom, a complete set of bath commodities. For you, it was like a dream bathroom. And there you are, sitting on the brims of the bathtub. The water tempeture was warm and the fragrance of the soap that had been mixed with the water was devine.

The door opened, revealing Aventurine in a towel around his waist. You can hear the footsteps behind you. An indication he's coming. "The water is set, you can get it in you'd like" you played with the water just a bit.

Aventurine put a hand onto your shoulder and gave you a kiss on the cheek "Mhm sure, arent you getting in honey?"

"I am, i am.. what, you need help with your towel?"

"Is that an offer, sweetheart?"

"…forget I said anything then" he snorted and smirked hearing your retort

As soon as both of you had done removing eachother's towels, both of you get in the bath tub.

Aventurine, gets in slowly, almost like as if he was scared to break the water itself. Adorable, really. To see a man who acts so smug and so sure of himself, express nervousness when he's just taking a bath with his one and only lover. You noticed his nervous behavior and you cant help but let out a light chuckle, "Scared much, Avey?".

In which he reply "Nonsense, lovely." however to contrast his words, he stammered on his words he spoke. It's not that noticeable, so he hopes you don't notice it.

yet ofcouse you would notice it and scooch over to him closer and give him a little kiss on his shoulder and snake an arm on the back of his waist. Just a way to tease him, just a bit.

He flinched slightly by your touch and scoffed "Devil much huh? oh sorry, I meant hell spawn." you laugh, "Not my fault that handsome here is so stiff. Come on, I'll wash your hair and you wash mine"

He let you do as you please with him. It felt oddly nice to have someone taking care of him for once in a lifetime. You do it so gently with him too, now how could he not feel at least slightly emotional when only such a few people have given him comfort and almost all of them have died? And now here you are, taking care of him like he's a stray cat.

He just can't help it but say

".... I'm glad I met you, I love you, sweetheart."

Jing Yuan

✦ 01 Big cat. Very big cat.

✦ 02 Big cat flop onto the bath tub

✦ 03 Big cat will ask u to wash his hair (uncertain he would do the same tho)

✦ 04 Will sleep if u take too long to shampoo his hair.

✦ 05 Cold water can do the trick to wake him up

✦ 06 Would probably pull you in a huge hug too.

When Jing Yuan got on the bathtub, it was almost as if he hogged all the space that were available. "Hey, how come I don't get a room?" You complained. Which he replies with a lazy smirk "you can just sit on my lap?"

An awkward pause fills up the room, and the longer the pause, the more contagious the little pink blush is on your cheeks which he just cannot help himself to laugh. "Well? Would you like to, dove?" In which you just let out a whine.

Eventually, you cave in and give into his whims. It's not like there's any other way to get in the bath tub without any of his body parts being touched by you. Now here you are, sitting on top of his lap, looking like a confused cat, don't know where to leap next.

It was a sight for sore eyes. You looked cute, now he can't help but let out a playful chuckle and bring you forward to him. "Why so stiff? Is it your first time seeing me stripped? I don't think so…" Worst part, he gave you his signature little lazy smile, looking like he has no wrongdoings.

"That's… Irrelevant, just let me do your hair, baobei." Hence, he let his head down and let you untie his ponytail, and do the rest

While you were washing his hair, his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He couldn't help it, it felt so good to have your delicate yet skillful fingers all over his scalp. It just so happens that you were doing too great of your job.

"Baobei, it's done~!" You twisted his hair and stuck it into the top of his head. "Baobei?" You called him out again. No response.

Out of suspicion, you raise his head to show his sleeping face. Ah, in all of the places in the universe.. he just had to sleep at this moment, you thought. Abruptly, you had a really… Devious plan to wake him up.

Jing Yuan really just needed to rinse the shampoo away and he'd be done. But instead of using the warm water, just use the icy cold water to wake him up. And perhaps instead of using the shower, why not just pour a bucket full of it? That's exactly what you did.

Sure, it's quite literally deceitful, but at least it gets the job done. It's hard to wake up this big general, so a bucket of cold water could do.

You took a small bucket lying around the bathroom and filled it up with cold water. Little did you know, Jing Yuan was already awake when you were done with his hair.

You swear you didn't feel the water vibrations changing, but somehow, he's already in your shoulder while you were still not done filling the bucket.

"Mmnh… What are you doing my Qīn qīn? Not trying to splash me with the cold water aren't you?"

Drat. How did he even—

"No-no… O-ofcourse not.."

"Then what is it for, hm?"

"I…" You decided to give up from the act. Goddamnit, you were so close!

"you know what? yes, I was, now.. have a taste—!" You splashed the water into his face. Yet, no response. Not even a reaction, single flinch, nothing… Literally unfazed.

"Mhm, it takes more than that to even make me flinch, baobei dear."

Sunday

✦ 01 Asking to bath with Sunday isn't really that hard... But he would reassure you if you want to do it, it's a very intimate action to bathe with one another.

✦ 02 But bathing with Sunday is like bathing with an angel in a cloud

✦ 03 He'd be so soft, delicate. As if scared to even hurt you, make a wrong move.

✦ 04 Though, as delicate as he can be, he expects you to do the same.

✦ 05 He would let you wash his wings, but be gentle with them!

✦ 06 Once again, his touch is so gentle. Like imagine him washing your face with his thumbs just circling your cheeks

"Dear, turn your head downwards for me please?" He asked. Your boyfriend, Sunday, couldn't have been more gentler. He's washing your hair and your whole body with firm yet gentle strokes. You did as he asked and turned your head downwards. "Good girl/boy..." and thus felt the warm water wash away all the foam that covered your entire frame.

"Mm... Shouldn't I be the one praising you, angel?" He let out a silent chuckle "And who's being the obedient one here, hm?" It was a somewhat convenient playful banter between the two of you. Convincing the other that they're better.

Once you're done, Sunday gave one last splash of water to your hair and scrub off any remaining shampoo or soap that still be sticking around. "There, all done." He gave a wet kiss on the forehead. Which you unintentionally let out a giggle. "Hey this isn't fair, can't I bathe you too?" You note, it was true, all this time who's getting the royalty treatment is just you. "Do you want to? If so you could do that.."

An unanticipated idea came up from your oh so brilliant head "How about I wash your wings?"

"..." He hesitated just a bit. If truth be told, he was quite... Anxious to lend you his wings. Just what if you accidentally pulled one of the feathers? "How about my.. body, dear? My hair?" He recommended

"I mean— sure.. but can I wash your wings? Pleasee?" You insisted and pleaded. You even crawled your way to his chest, he felt compelled to kiss that face of yours and hug you tight. Just how can he reject you? "Fine, fine... But be extremely gentle." He sighed.

You started on with his right wing. Once you've held it, the wing flinches by accident. You poured the soap into your hand and started caressing the tip of his wing, cleaning all the dirt or dust that was there. "Does this hurt, sunday?" Through which he denies "no, absolutely not, darling. You're doing great" and purred as you do his wings

As you did the other wing, he kept purring like a pigeon being petted. Perhaps it was to imply that he was very enjoying this.

"Enjoying this much, love?"

"Very" he cood "oh, and thank you, I love you darling.." you giggled in response as you rinse both of his wings "I love you too."

✧ XTRA : i fking gentlemenfied sunday dawg :sob: also this was vv rushed, thats why it keeps getting shorter from aven to sunday (Aven is 430 words n sunday is 400 words) but oddly enough jy is 560 words💀 cringed so bad in jy's part tho like i speedrun that shit & gonna write guitarist bf kazuha after this

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bluelocksource · 28 days ago

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U-20 Japan National Team Match Just Before the Game: A Day in Daily Life at Blue Lock.

Isagi: "I styled my hair. The little sprout on top of my head looks great today! Just then, Bachira came up and said, "Harvest ♪" while grabbing it tightly. No matter how much I tried to escape, he kept holding on. I resigned myself to it and let him grip it for a while until he got bored and went off somewhere. What a free spirit!"

Gagamaru: "There’s no nature inside Blue Lock. I wanted to see trees and flowers. Anything would be fine. Just something green. While I was looking around, I found Otoya. His bangs are green, so when I stared at him, he said, "Not into guys."

Aryū: "Little by little, the Blue Lock folks are starting to get a taste of 'Osha.' But in truly 'Osha' moments, people shine. I swear here that one day I’ll show that!"

Niko: "I was caught washing my forehead by Aryū-kun. It was embarrassing. But he taught me, 'Embarrassment is an important emotion that makes us human.' I became interested in Aryū-kun. I want to know a little more about this 'Osha' thing."

Chigiri: "I fell asleep while drying my hair. There’s no one here to wake me up. My hair is long, so it takes a while. Maybe I'll cut it next summer."

Bachira: "When I was walking around n*k*d, Karasu scolded me! Otoya joined me in being n*k*d ♪ Isagi... treated me the same as always! It seems he’s gotten tired of making remarks at my n*k*dn*ss. What a strange guy."

Karasu: "I found myself in the bath with Hiori. We didn't really have a conversation, but that was perfectly fine. I think we were both comfortable with it. It was great to see him looking well. I'm glad we had the chance to meet again."

Nagi: "I ate alone. I did the laundry by myself. I’ve become able to train on my own. I'm proud of myself. Changing is fun, but it can also be a hassle and a little lonely. Still, I think it's an important thing."

Otoya: "I contacted some girls I know on my smartphone after a long time. Most of them didn’t respond. It turns out that not keeping in touch regularly really does make girls dislike you. On to the next one! Woohoo ♪"

Yukimiya: "I talked about various things with Nagi-kun. Like the things we like, and how we've managed to get this far. It seems that for Nagi-kun, the existence of Isagi is significant. It's a story that doesn't really concern me, but having a rival like that feels nice somehow."

Rin: "When I woke up in the morning, my left lower eyelash was turned inside out and it hurt my eye. It happens sometimes, right? Bedhead with lower eyelashes. Huh? Is it just me? My brother said he has it... Oh, don't remind me of that guy. What a terrible wake-up!"

Hiori: "I trained with Isagi-kun. I sent in crosses, and Isagi-kun delivered a direct shot. With each one, he practices with intention and communicates well. He’s a smart type. He’s a bit like Karasu, too. I don’t dislike Isagi Yoichi."

Reo: "I ate alone and trained alone. It’s been a while since I did anything by myself. I can live on my own, but I dream of things I can’t do alone. I have to change. It’s not over yet. Someday, I’ll do it once more."

Barou: "I touched up the "X" shave on my temple. One line represents my murderous intent towards others, and the other represents my murderous intent towards myself. What’s that? Don’t look at me, you stinky guy (Nagi). It’s not a mark saying to give me a headshot here!"

Igaguri: "My hair had gotten long, so I asked Shidou to cut it with clippers, and he ended up giving me a heart-shaped bald spot on the back of my head. Love Amida Buddha…"

Ishikari: "I suddenly felt like playing basketball, so I asked Anri-chan for a basketball. I gathered some people randomly, and it turned out Kiyora was surprisingly really good. Basketball is so much fun!"

Kurona: "Good morning, good morning. Hello, hello. Good night, good night. Greetings are important, very important. It’s a given, but it’s precious. Everyone’s everyday life, everyday life."

Kiyora: "For dinner today, should I have croquettes or minced cutlets? My heart is 50% 50%. I feel like both choices are correct, but I also think I’d regret whichever one I choose. Alright. I’ll eat both. ………………………… Damn, I ate too much and my stomach hurts. Should I lie down or go to the bathroom? The borderline starts again."

Zantetsu: "It's better to brush your teeth properly every day, I told everyone. They replied, 'You should study more.' Well, if you get a cavity, don't say I didn't warn you!"

Tokimitsu: "I was saying, 'I lack confidence. I want confidence,' when Karasu-kun teased me, saying, 'It was just lying in the bathroom earlier, right?' Ugh… come on, don’t mess with me for real… Well, I went to check the bathroom anyway… but of course, it wasn’t there! Uwaaa!"

Nanase: "I washed my headband. When I put it in the dryer, it shrank a lot... what should I do? For now, I just wore it as it was that day. My head felt 'juri juri' (itchy)... Oh, I mean it felt 'zuki zuki' (throbbing). There goes my dialect again! Hehe, sorry about that!"

Hiiragi: "I used my hobby of tarot cards to predict my future. The 'Devil' card came up… Well, it's just a fortune-telling, right? Nothing to worry about! Right?"

Raichi: "I got really into a sideburns talk with Ishikari! His sideburns are pretty good, but mine are definitely cooler! In the end, we ended up arguing about it!"

Shidou: "I woke up. My mind feels clear. Yeah, it’s a good start today. In the afternoon, my body feels energized. I can sense my cells buzzing with excitement. At night, my heart feels restless. I’m sure something will happen tomorrow. I want to experience this night, knowing I can sleep with that thought, over and over again."

Ego: "Anri-chan was drooling and sleeping at her desk. She should sleep in her own room. Well, I decided to show a little concern for her. With this, she’ll probably listen to me for a while again. Kindness has its intentions. That’s how humans are."

Anri: "I was given an assignment by Ego-san to come up with ideas to make the existence of the Blue Lock better known to the world. Since that day, I've been stressed and having strange nightmares. Damn it… I want to sleep well! I’ll do my best!"

source: Egoist Bible 2

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xxsabitoxx · 10 months ago

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Okkotsu Yuta NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men - here is scheduled post number 13 :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Yuta’s aftercare is perfect in every possible way. This man puts so much effort into making sure you are comfortable, clean, and happy after sex. He’ll usually always run you a bath, even if you are exhausted. He’ll carry you into the bathroom and get in the tub with you. He takes the time to fill it with epsom salts and calming aroma scents like lavender and eucalyptus. He’ll massage your body wherever you say you’re a bit tender and he’ll make sure to scrub you clean. Yuta feels energized after sex so it’s not surprising that he has so much energy to take care of you. He’ll make sure to dry you off thoroughly and help you dress in the softest of pajamas. He’ll dry and brush your hair for you, get you water and even pain relievers if he thinks you’ll need them.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yuta is totally infatuated with your chest. He adores everything about it, big, small, flat, doesn’t matter, he’ll spend hours sucking on your chest. Yuta loves to spoon with you, his hands under your shirt and cupping your chest happily, he isn’t even doing it to initiate something with you, he just adores the warmth and softness they offer him. When he’s fucking you, he loves watching your hands scramble to hold your chest because he’s rutting into you too damn hard and causing your whole body to recoil because of it. Which, of course, only makes him work harder.

Yuta is quite shy at first, finding it hard to pinpoint a part of his body that he favors. But, over time, Yuta finds he has a lot of confidence in his arms. Specifically his forearms, because of the way they bulge when he uses his strength to keep you in place. Or maybe when he’s fucking you in front of a mirror and can see the way his arms look wrapped around your waist.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s filthy, in every way possible. Yuta loves seeing you ruined and fucked out, but he also loves seeing you covered in the sticky mess that his cum makes. Honestly, he’ll cum anywhere you want him to. Even then he can’t make the promise that it’ll end up where you want it, he could aim for your chest but end up on your face, he could aim for coming inside and accidentally pull out and spill his load on your sex. It depends how lost he is in the moment.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Yuta really likes when you degrade him and call him mean names. He doesn’t even have an explanation for why it turns him on the way it does but he loves it. That and the fact that he finds you so unbelievably hot when you’re mad at him… which is really rare cause he doesn’t do many things to piss you off. But fighting is inevitable in relationships, and for the two of you it usually ends in marathon sex so he can’t say he doesn’t like arguing either. He tries not to piss you off on purpose… unless he’s really horny and in the mood to get fucked stupid.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yuta doesn’t have a ton of experience but you’d never guess it. He’s had maybe two or three partners max and only one instance of a one night stand. Still, he’ll get texts from blocked numbers begging for him back because nobody can fuck them like he did. He’ll show you the messages when they come in and let you handle them how you please, he has all he needs right in front of him so he couldn’t care less about texts like that. Needless to say, Yuta not only knows how to make someone feel good, but how to leave a lasting impression.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, and if you find that boring clearly you’ve been doing it wrong. Yuta adores missionary, I mean he enjoys fucking you in just about every position but there is something so intimate about missionary that drives him up the wall. He loves how close you are, how he can feel your body moving against his, how his weight is making you wheeze and squirm and just produce the prettiest noises he’s ever heard. He loves how he can still kiss you, bite you, and suck hickeys on your neck even when you beg him not to. He loves how he can hear you so perfectly, watching your face contort as you try and hide your cute noises. It’s perfect.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Yuta can be a bit humorous during sex, cracking a few smiles at you and sly comments. It just feels weird for him to be completely serious when with you, even if he’s mad or worked up. Yuta will never fail to pull a smile onto your face as he says something so sweet it nearly makes your teeth ache. He’s such a love bug, especially when he’s being intimate with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yuta has a love-hate relationship with his hair down there. He likes to keep it short and neat but sometimes life gets away from him and his hair grows out more than he would like it to. You, for one, don’t care about his hair down there but Yuta can get a bit shy if you’re getting intimate and he hasn’t had time to clean up his groin lmao

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If you couldn’t tell by his favorite position and his humor, Yuta is very romantic during sex. But romantic in a shy way when you’re first getting into things, as he lets loose, so do his words. You swear Yuta is telling you he loves you every time his hips connect with yours… it’s because he is. He’s nearly lovesick for you as he ruts his hips into you, doesn’t matter if he just saw you this morning, that man misses you and he will make sure you know it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Yuta’s frequency can vary depending on his mood and work schedule. Before meeting you, he would get himself off once a week minimum. Most weeks he’d jerk off a healthy two-three times. Now, the only time he’ll jerk off is if he’s away from you for too long or if he really needs to do stuff and he can’t get it to go down on its own. Yuta also isn’t shy about using toys to get himself off – that means vibrators, pocket pussies, butt plugs oops-

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Master/Slave kink, I will not go into detail on this one I just… I just think he’d like it if you ordered him around and called him a good boy. He’s heavy on dom/sub but he’s easily a switch and enjoys being in either position. Yuta has a mild breeding kink, one that only comes out when he’s really upset… like if you get injured. I’d also say Yuta is into somnophilia because there have been times he returned from a mission and you’re already passed out but he’s worked up. You’ve discussed it before so it’s completely consensual and he finds it so cute when you start making noises in your sleep as he buries his fingers inside to prep you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Yuta loves fucking you on just about any surface but he’s grown quite fond of bathtub sex. Something about the steam filling the room, the hot water, the intimacy of the moment, the urge to be careful in order to not make a mess of the room. There are so many factors that go into fucking in the bathtub that Yuta almost views it as a challenge, which is part of the enjoyment. Yuta is also an avid lover of car sex, for similar reasons to fucking in the bath, he likes the risks that come with it. He finds the possibilities of getting caught or trying not to make an absolute mess to be very fun… plus watching you try and keep quiet is amusing for him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He’s a sucker for non-sexual intimacy just as he’s a sucker for sexual intimacy. Yuta has absolutely popped a hard-on because you cuddled into him while sitting on the couch. He’s mildly embarrassed about the fact that some of the most innocent touches get him worked up, but he just can’t help how in love he is with you. Yuta is also very obsessed with lingerie, he’ll never expect you to wear it for him or always be wearing cute undergarments. But it’s a real treat for him when you decide to “dress up” in that sense. You may notice him being a tad more handsy with you when you tease him with a lacy waistband peeking above your pants.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hateful, mean, spiteful sex. Anything along the lines of hooking up just to put someone in their place if that makes sense? He can certainly be rough, but it’s out of love and adoration for you. He’s never liked the idea of hook-ups or one night stands, he’s much more into emotions and really caring about someone when sleeping with them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Yuta is all about your pleasure so it’s not surprising that he has a preference for giving oral. Not to say he doesn't love receiving it, he definitely adores it, but going down on you is almost like a guilty pleasure for him. He’ll go down on you to relieve his own stress, spending hours between your thighs until he is satisfied with how many times you’ve come. His skills came naturally, somehow knowing exactly what to do when he got down there. If you were his first? You’d never guess it, Yuta is very skilled with his tongue… something else that’ll make him blush if you mention it. He’s still shy somehow.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yuta can and will adjust his pace to your liking, but naturally the man is pretty eager and can start off faster than intended. He learned over time that it is much more gratifying to work his way up to the rougher and faster paces, especially since you’ll start to whine and beg for him to go faster or be rougher. The way you plead with him drives him absolutely wild. When he’s sleepy, worn out from a day's work and still needs to satisfy his cravings of you, Yuta’s hips take a much more languid and sensual roll. He’ll press his lips to your ear so you can hear his breathing struggle as he whispers his love and adoration for you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yeah but also no… he’s conflicted mostly because he can never keep a quickie… quick. Even car sex can span on for twenty minutes if he’s not mindful. He just gets so lost in you and your body, how is he supposed to speed things up when he feels he has all the time in the world?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll experiment with you for sure but he will shamelessly research what you want to try before even bringing it into the bedroom. He does this because he wants to make sure it’s safe and something he will also enjoy. But he also does this to make sure he does it properly for you, buys the right things, has the right idea on the concept. He wants you to enjoy it properly of course.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bless you honestly, this man can go all fucking night and even past the sunrise if he really wants to. He’ll wear you out and make sure you need to call out of work the next day because he swears he’s not done with you yet. Yuta is an avid lover of marathon sex and he has the stamina to keep up with it. Usually he can go as long as ten minutes per round once he gets inside of you but he will not hold himself back from coming, so he’s not usually one to stick out the full ten minutes unless he’s just trying to tease you. He knows going longer can sometimes become painful.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yuta loves toys, both on you and himself. He thinks they are incredibly fun to use in bed with you and just by himself. He’s not opposed to any toys really, he’ll buy/use whatever he feels like or whatever you express interest in wanting. Nothing is really off limits in that sense.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Yuta can tease you but he’s not really unfair. He’ll edge you unintentionally and make up for it seconds later. He’ll praise you until you’re squirming, roll his hips a little slower to hear you whine, but he’s never dragging on his teasing. He’d rather see you crying from pleasure than desperation cause he’s holding back.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Yuta. Whimpers. Yuta. Whines.

You can’t tell me anything different. Yuta will not restrain his noises… mostly because he’s incapable of doing so. He’ll moan and curse, babble on and on about how good you feel, thank you over and over for letting him have you. He’s learned to not be embarrassed by his noises because he realized how much they seem to turn you on. He takes it as a compliment now.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

One of Yuta’s biggest guilty pleasures is cock-warming. He loves being close to you, cuddling you tightly as you both try and sleep. So why not take it a step further and just… slip inside. His only issue is that he can never promise it’ll remain cock-warming. His hips or yours turn restless at some point and you’ll easily get carried away. But, on nights where you’re both able to control yourselves, Yuta will knock out within seconds of slipping inside of you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When soft, Yuta is sitting at 5.2 inches. Once hard, Yuta is 6.3 inches and curves upwards. He’s got a good girth to him, the kind that requires some getting used to but doesn’t hurt if he prepares you correctly. He’s got a pretty cock, which you’ve mentioned before just to see his face turn a shade of scarlet as you kept reassuring him that you meant it. He’s paler with a pretty flushed pink tip and some light veins running along his shaft.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Man he could fuck you every day of the week, all hours of the day, if he had the time. His sex drive is unbelievably high, this boy was touch starved and now he can’t get enough.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will not fall asleep until he assures that you have been properly taken care of. Yuta also feels pretty energized after sex so he may not come right back to bed after he’s sure you’re comfy. Depending on the time of day, he’s actually gone for a run after or cleaned the house before accompanying you in bed again. You like to tease him and call him an overachiever for doing more cardio after all the cardio he just did. Typically though, if you fuck before bed, he’ll be asleep within thirty minutes or so.

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jjenthusee · 4 months ago

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Moonlight And Intentional Mistakes

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: This is inspired and dedicated to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes amazing post linked here (show it some love) and their numerous sweet words especially on my Broken Mug writing drabble (also linked), so after crying reading their messages, i had to do something about the intense rush to write and the best way i can think of thanking you is by doing what i know, art and writing. i had no idea that i was influencing anyone, i only hoped my love for Jason was communicated correctly. i hope every single one of you that comes across my account has beautiful things happen to u. i’ll give u all a million kisses. please continue to write, i would love to continue reading what u have for us next <3 there’s also a surprise at the end :D (as always comments are appreciated if you’re comfortable <3 let me know your brain rot thoughts) ENJOY

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, soft Jason, touch starved Jason lowkey, siri play Never Grow Up by Niall Horan 😔, might have inspired the direction of the fic

Word Count: 3.4k

The moon was high.

Moonlight had casted a faint glow on the window blinds, it peaked in through the tiny gaps.

Only a small lamp was on, cascading light from the living room into your room. It gave enough light to see the outlines of your room. Bathing everything it could touch in a faint warm glow.

It was still dark enough that the details were too fuzzy to point out, but most objects were wrapped in shadows, bringing a unique calm to your room.

In the chill of night, the bed was warm. Jason was the perfect heater. The blankets were cozy and the sound of a fan whirred at the corner of the room.

It didn’t make sense covering yourself head to toe in a fuzzy blanket with a fan blasting air at you, but the sound mellowed you into the night, calling slumber closer to you.

It would have been easy to sleep if you were given the chance, but your gentle giant boyfriend was adamant to prove to you that he needed to sleep as physically close as possible to you.

It would have been fine, but today you couldn’t find a relaxing sleeping position. You had to shift your body around before finding the state of mind and the right amount of comfort to drift off, but tonight was difficult. Not only were you constantly shifting in the bed sheets, you were keeping Jason awake.

As your body moved to a new spot on the bed, Jason followed. Turning his body to follow the heat you left behind on the sheets. He wasn’t fond of the fact that a blanket fully engulfed you while he didn’t, it wasn’t fair.

When he got close enough to throw his muscular arm over you, you beat him to your next journey across the mattress.

If the queen bed the both of you were laying on looked like a college dorm twin XL with Jason laid out over it, then you shouldn’t have cornered yourself onto the edge.

Now half of your body dangled off the mattress. The bed was definitely big enough for the both of you the last time you checked, but with Jason getting closer to you every time you moved, it looked like he teleported a smidge closer when you blinked.

It also wasn’t ideal when he rolled onto the corner of the blanket that had unraveled from your legs.

You teetered on the end of the bed when he purposefully made sure to take up ninety percent of what was left of the mattress. Locking you on the edge, wrapped in a blanket.

You had been laying on your side, but Jason kept nudging you, tickling your face with his messy hair when he got close enough to attempt to burrow his large self into you. You kept scooting back, but once you didn’t feel anymore mattress, your legs were feeling where the cold air invaded the bed.

Now you settled on the dangerous edge with one leg completely off. Despite your avoidance of Jason, your free leg locked around Jason’s leg for any support to keep you safely on the bed. Your entire upper half was swaddled like a baby as the blanket blocked out any of the chill, your arms completely smushed against your sides with no way to free yourself besides Jason moving his body off of the edges of your blanket.

You had no control whatsoever.

It was you and your straining leg on Jason that was the only thing keeping you from plopping on the cold floor. Now in a vulnerable position, did Jason have the bright idea of asking the question you’ve been avoiding all day.

Where were his pudding cups?

———

“I take it back!” You pleaded with Jason as he kept the blanket tightly wound around you, preventing you from moving your arms to retaliate.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jason playfully faced at you, laying on his side. His voice melted with innocence, but had underlying amusement.

Your blanket was your savior and your enemy as it saved you from the hard floor, but it was also securely caught by Jason’s entire weight. He had you completely trapped inside with only your head and legs poking out, the fabric slung around you.

Moving his body an inch closer to the edge, Jason pushed your body further off, further with no support beside his mere weight and strength keeping you from falling.

“I swear there were two pudding cups before you left!” You screamed, your hair falling off your face, the ends gravitating toward the ground, your impending doom.

“Sweetheart, let’s play world’s greatest detective and I’ll ask you something. If I didn’t eat ‘em and we are the only two people who live in this apartment, then who do we have left? Hm?” Jason’s voice, honey sweet, as he emphasized the contradictions in your statement.

With the blanket bunched in his hands, Jason easily lowered you slightly, juggling your weight effortlessly while laying on his side. You cursed at his perfect athleticism.

The room may have been dark, but you didn’t need the moonlight to know he had a shit eating grin trying to get you to confess.

You felt like this was probably the closest you would feel to people walking the plank in those pirate movies you watched as a kid, a sick waiting game not knowing when your fate was inevitable. It was fun at the time and maybe the cold ocean was different from your bedroom floor, but otherwise it was still cold.

“I don’t even like sweets!” You playfully laughed as he teasingly let his hands slip, clearly seeing through your lie. You squealed as you felt your head dip and your leg fall from on top of Jason’s.

“And my hand slipped.” Jason equally lied through his teeth, his threat filled with no malice whatsoever as he securely held onto you.

“I’m starting to feel like this has nothing to do with pudding cups.” You raised your head back up to look at Jason, a full smile present on your face, testing your vulnerable state.

“Oh?” Jason raised his eyebrow as he looked down at you from the edge of the bed. The angle looked great on him.

“My world’s greatest detective intuition is telling me that you’re just mad that I kept rolling away from you.” You mischievously pointed out.

“My love, you need to use those skills to find out why all our pudding is gone.”

“Do you do this to all the criminals you interrogate?” You deflected, using your eyes to point to the current position both of you were in, dangling from the bed in a blanket while Jason kept you there.

“Only the pretty ones.” Jason sung, pulling you up slightly so you weren’t as close to the floor, not quite on the bed, but in a better spot than before.

“I didn’t realize the Red Hood had such malicious threatening techniques.” You shook your head feigning disappointment as you struggled to readjust your leg to latch onto his again. It probably looked awkward, but you were desperate. It wasn’t your fault that your boyfriend was built like a tank. “I promise to not rob anymore banks anytime soon. I’ll straighten myself out. Scouts honor.” You breathed out, exhausted from the movement.

“Just admit you ate the pudding and I’ll erase everything. Your speeding tickets and the bounty on you in 15 countries.”

“It’s 18 actually, don’t defile me—“

Jason effortlessly lowered you again. The blanket slipping slightly from jostling you around.

“Okay, okay!” You cried out. “If I fall you’re limited to two kisses a day!”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Three, take it or leave it.”

“Tell me where the pudding is.”

“Four kisses and you can cuddle suffocate me when we sleep.” The blanket around you felt noticeably loose.

Jason scoffed, offended by your choice of phrasing.

“If our lives are ever on the line, I gotta remember I can’t ever let you negotiate.” He tauntingly called above you. “And I don’t cuddle suffocate you.”

“So it was ‘cause I moved away from you earlier!” You cried out as you slipped further. The blanket loosening completely around you, your gasp blurring into Jason’s name. A plea to catch you.

Jason quickly bent down, rolling his body off the bed and slipping his arms around you as he followed you to the floor. He rolled his body forward enough to quickly shift your position so his body plopped on the ground first while you landed on top of him.

It was a soft landing as you laid on his chest. Quickly finding a comfortable position in his arms.

“You only get one kiss a day.” You flatly said. “Why is our bed frame weirdly tall?” You nuzzled your head into his chest.

“Our deal was two.” Jason tenderly caressed your head. Moving your hair in motions that made you want to fall asleep.

“Looks like we’re both liars.” You barely whispered, sleepiness taunting your body.

“I guess you’re still wanted in 18 countries.”

You lazily laughed into Jason, his body slightly shaking from your movement. His arms wrapping around you, engulfing the feel of your laughter and locking it between your bodies. He smiled into your shoulder. Smelling your comfort.

You lifted your head, freeing your face. You were still being held by Jason, but you had a clearer view of his loving gaze lost on you as he traced your features, entranced by your smile.

“Missed opportunity.” You drunkenly watched and felt Jason’s fingers caressing your face.

“If you let me ‘cuddle suffocate’ you, you might have another shot.” Jason’s thumb rubbed your cheek, pressing into the softness. His calloused finger pads feeling slightly itchy, but you would never pull away, too endeared by how gently he treats you.

“Worth it.” You say after snapping out of your trance that was locked on your boyfriend. He knew the right areas to get your mind lost on his touch, focused solely on him.

You pulled yourself up from laying on top of Jason, grabbing for his hands as you stood. Straining to help pull him up, but almost all the effort came from his own strength, not yours.

Playfully, Jason never let go of your hands and let his body be dragged completely onto you, dramatically coming forward to rewrap himself around you.

You giggled as you threw your arms around him. Enjoying the warmth that radiated from him, reheating the once empty space. Your own personal heater. You were glad tonight was one of the nights he stayed home with you, cuddled in bed all evening. You tried your best to soothe his mind, away from the thoughts of patrol as much as you could.

Giving his mind a small mental break, to hold you close and whatever else he needed. Both of you continue to work hard to develop and maintain the kind of trust that Jason needed to work through the hard days, silent but never alone.

With reassuring hugs while he counted your breaths, holding onto your hand just to thoughtlessly memorize them, standing in your presence just to observe you.

His difficulty with readjusting to the mundane and useless tasks of every day life was the biggest challenge. Too many conversations about why we need to treat ourselves because we want to. Jason’s mind was filled with too many needs.

He needed a reason to buy himself something, he needed to push his body to the limits because there was no other option, he needed to work alone.

So you showed him that he didn’t need you to hold his arm while you walked around the city, but he wanted you to do it.

He didn’t need you to take care of him, but you wanted to because you cared.

As you lost yourself in the shared closeness, you swayed your body. Jason unconsciously following your movements, swaying with you and letting his hands intertwine behind you, letting it gently rest against your lower back. Once you held on, Jason had silently vowed to never be the first to let go.

As you moved your bodies, clueless about Jason’s promise to himself, you didn’t let go either. So the two of you clung to one another.

It was one of the millions of things you cherished about Jason, he showed his devotion through his mannerisms. He helped put away your bags after a tired day of work, when he brought you a blanket if you fell asleep on the couch then carried you to bed. He bought your favorite snacks if he was at the store. He effortlessly followed you, content to be next to you.

Of course, he still put up limitations. He wouldn’t put your safety at risk. He sat closer and became more aware of restaurant doors, he kept you walking on his side or always in front of him, when he slept he made sure to determine the layout that suited you best, away from the window. His eagerness to make sure your wellbeing is priority.

It led to him not sleeping once you switched your position too many times tonight. He wasn’t satisfied with you being closer to the window, but he also was determined to get you to cuddle.

Numerous times you wanted to tease him, but after a Red Hood reveal that had you debating if he collaborated with his brothers to pull a twisted prank on you and an emotional talk, you couldn’t blame him for any of it. The fitted suit was just an added bonus you could outrightly ogle at.

You two were standing, holding each other in the dark. His head nuzzled on the base of your neck, his hands gripping your shirt, crinkling at the desperation. Sometimes Jason felt overstimulated when his feelings were ready to burst. His unfamiliarity with so much tender affection makes his mind unable to process all of it.

All you can do is to tell him that your there. Reminding him that you were unwilling to go anywhere.

“I’m here, Jay.” You softly reassured. “I’m right here, in your arms.”

Jason was unaware of the same silent promise you prayed to yourself, to never let him go.

When Jason’s grip loosened, your lips softly kissed the side of his head, soothing the thing that gives him a hard time. Repeating the motion, feeling his breaths even.

You never said that you were limited to how many kisses you can give him.

As you methodically swayed and with one final kiss against his hot skin, Jason shifted himself to standing taller, resting his forehead on yours. His hair laid flat against your skin.

You closed your eyes, enjoying how docile he became once you initiated physical touch. A craving he wanted and you unconditionally gave him.

When you opened your eyes, adjusting to the darkness, you grabbed one of his hands to intertwine them, your other hand gently falling onto his shoulder. He noticed the familiar stance, mimicking that of a dance. He silently rested his free hand on your waist, once again feeling the fabric of his shirt that you wore.

There was no music, but you leaned into Jason once again, swaying to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and in tune with his breaths. The further closeness let you settle your head underneath his chin, his hand following around the width of your waist pulling you in more.

Everything felt perfect. It was the middle of the night in the dark, you wore pajamas, no music played, both of your hair messy, but you held Jason. A sweet grasp of his shirt bunched in your hand, your feet bumping into his, the smell of your soap radiating from his skin from his shower.

If this was your last day on Earth, you would think you were blessed to be in front of the most loving, tender man. Watching his eyes softened and sparkle as he feels a breath of peace.

That was all you needed.

In an act of surprise, you moved your arm to wrap around Jason’s waist and attempted to dramatically swoop him back. It was haphazardly done, but he gladly played along despite the difference in height making it a little awkward. He dipped back then came forward, reuniting your embrace, both of you laughing at your clumsy attempt at a slow dance.

“Why does this feel like an awkward school dance?” You breathed out, breathless from the laughing, talking into his clean shirt. Most likely you were taking it to wear tomorrow night.

“We’re just swaying, we aren’t really moving how we’re supposed to.” Jason rubbed your back as you caught your breath, his voice softly surrounding you as you rested on his chest, feeling every word.

“And how would you know?” You looked up at him, a teasing tone. “It’s not like either of us know how to slow dance.”

Jason paused, looking down at your eyes, contemplating.

“Would you like to learn?” He hesitated, combing his hand through your hair.

You completely stopped swaying, Jason’s hand dropping from the top of your head to rest on your cheek. He carefully watched your reaction, your eyes widening, a stunned look in your eyes.

His grip tightened, barely noticeable if you didn’t feel his thumb press on your waist, helping to remind you to respond.

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You looked down toward your feet, slightly feeling the embarrassment creep up at your confession, but Jason rubbed his thumb on your cheek. A silent comfort. “But, I don’t have a reason to learn. I’m way past school dance age, I rarely go to events where it might happen, and…no one has ever asked me.”

A silence settled between the both of you, Jason’s thumb pausing. He looked between your eyes, glancing back and forth.

“Can I get my phone?” He asked with no explanation, no other detail leading to your earlier confession.

You felt the mortification creeping at you. You nodded, letting go of Jason.

He stood there until you removed yourself first. His grip fleeting, walking in the dark to grab his phone, illuminating the room with its screen where he stood. You curiously watched him, not quite understanding his intentions.

“I might be a little rusty.” He voiced, a broad back facing you.

A gentle melody played from his phone. Quiet, but getting louder as he pressed the volume button on the side of his phone.

“What?” You stood there awkwardly.

Jason turned to face you, throwing his phone on the night stand as he walked back over, raising an open hand to you.

“May I have this dance?”

He stunned you again, your brain having too many delays at once.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to meet his. You couldn’t respond to his question because your throat ached, ached in a way that you wished the world ended right there, to consume the pounding heartbeat in your ears, the firm grip of Jason, and attempt to swallow up all the love swelling in your heart. It would put up one hell of a fight.

Once the both of you met, bodies close, Jason repositioned your hands as it was before. Gently guiding you through the steps as you nervously looked at your feet, your tense body adding to your struggle.

Once you felt a decent rhythm and Jason patiently assisted you, memorizing your expressions, movements and the smile you beamed when you finally felt comfortable.

He grabbed your chin. Guiding your head back up to look at him. Bringing his head closer to yours.

Your eyes closed halfway before he gripped your back, dipping you back, holding your weight as you inhaled in surprise.

“Jason!” You laughed his name as he swung you back up, extravagantly twirling you from him, clasping your hand to twirl you back into his embrace.

“Rusty, huh?” You quipped, eyeing him, trying to stabilize your steps.

“What can I say, Alfred beat the movements into me. He would feel a shift in the air if I got it wrong.” Jason smiled, picking up the swaying again, enthusiastically moving both your bodies.

You continued dancing through laughter, not watching your feet as much as you were, letting the feeling of the music guide you.

Not knowing where your body and his separated, a beautiful blur.

How could you have missed out on something so sweet?

A dance shared between two individuals who adore one another.

Jason stamped another mark onto your life.

First dances laced with intertwined hands, lips brushing against one another, tuning out everything but each other’s voices.

Maybe the world did end, but you wouldn’t have known, too immersed in the moonlight on Jason’s skin, the warmth of love and home enveloping you.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #writing #what i would give to learn to slow dance with jason #imagine growing old with jason and continuing the slow dance tradition #screaming #art

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14dayswithyou · 9 months ago

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[REDACTED] NSFW Alphabet

🔞 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT! 🔞 Ren's version can be found here!!

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

[REDACTED] will usually part with a kiss before cleaning you up with a damp cloth or towel — or, if they were a bit rougher than usual, they'll draw you a bath with all your favourite scents instead.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He will forever be a tummy and thigh guy until my dying breath. [REDACTED] loves the feeling of you in his arms, so they'll often find themselves absentmindedly running their fingers up and down your thighs or just pulling you closer by your stomach and giving a soft squeeze. [REDACTED] might also favour your hands too, since he's a really big hand-holder and palm kisser. I don't think he'd have a favourite body part on himself, though he does subconsciously enjoy it when you compliment his eyes. It boosts their self-esteem and makes them feel attractive for once. (In regards to their real self!!)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Similar to his Ren counterpart, [REDACTED]'s cum is very thick and tastes somewhat salty. They enjoy the thought of filling you up and watching it slowly ooze out, and if you can manage to pry it out of him, [REDACTED] might even tell you about how it's always been one of his fantasies to have his cum still inside you while you go about your day. They secretly enjoy knowing that a part of him still lingers on you — as nasty as it might sound.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I already mentioned it in Ren's NSFW alphabet, but he has an entire 4TB harddrive full of photos of you. Most are innocent and harmless, but others are... not so much. [REDACTED] often likes to look at them and fantasise about what it'd be like to help you through those lonely and intimate moments you spend between your sheets.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

[REDACTED] had zero experience prior to sleeping with you, though he does have some idea of what to do. [REDACTED] is much more forward and honest about what he wants (compared to his "Ren"/Haruko persona), so you can expect him to be less timid and shy when he ruts into you for the first time. "Never done this before... 'M glad I get to experience this with you. Can I... put it in now? Or d'you need more time?"

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything that involves facing you and entwining your hands. [REDACTED] is big on watching your reactions to see what you like and respond well to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's definitely a lot more casual in bed, but I wouldn't call it goofy or anything. He'll go along with any jokes you make, and will even respond with his own if it fits the situation. But other than that, [REDACTED] tends to keep the moment tender and intimate.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His happy trail is very faint and matches the dark, black hair on his head. [REDACTED] also keeps himself moderately groomed, but if you want him to shave down there, they're happy to oblige.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Extremely intimate. They are always holding your hand, maintaining eye contact, and constantly praising you for how good you feel and how much he adores you. [REDACTED] might not light candles or set the mood with music, but he makes up for it by showering you with love and affection.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Likes to jack off whenever you do, just so he can time his strokes with your own hand. Otherwise, if the need ever arises, they'll simply seek you out and ask if you're in the mood to help him out.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

They have a maaaaassive praise kink (giving, but also... he subconsciously enjoys receiving it as well), biting/marking kink, and breeding kink. I wouldn't say [REDACTED] has an exhibitionism kink or anything — but he is down for anything if you initiate it in public.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The hood of Teo's car, Leon's bed, Jae's couch, Violet's gaming desk, Elanor's reception counter, Conan's favourite bookshelf, inside the changing rooms of Kiara's boutique, the staircase in Olivia's souvenir shop, during a phone call with Moth— oh, and on Angel's hardwood floor, I guess /silly

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

While they would never force themselves onto you, you could quite literally bat your eyelashes in [REDACTED]'s direction and he'll be rearing to go. Try pulling them in by their belt or sucking on their collarbone if you want to be (carefully) thrown on the nearest flat surface and be fucked within an inch of your life.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Threesomes (or more), cuckolding, or anything that physically involves others outside of [REDACTED] and you. Anything that has to do with DDLG/LB or ageplay is also a massive turn-off for them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's a biiiiiiig fat service top/pleasure dom at his core, so you know [REDACTED] is all about giving you pleasure. They're more than happy to spend the rest of their days between your thighs, and [REDACTED] could honestly cum hands-free purely from watching you unravel on his tongue. Your pleasure is his pleasure as well.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Typically, it starts out gentle and intimate — but the more [REDACTED] slowly unravels over time, the harder and rougher he'll get. Things like throwing your legs over his shoulder, gently biting your neck, gripping your hips and using you like a personal fleshlight, bucking into you with reckless abandon, etc. Obviously, nothing that would cause noticeable pain — but it's certainly different from how Ren would usually treat you in the bedroom.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

They don't mind quickies, but [REDACTED] will always prefer to take their time with you and shower you with all the love and affection they have. He doesn't want to rush your pleasure (and he likes to give you more than one orgasm per tryst), which can prove challenging to do if it's just a quickie. With that being said, they're all for being dragged away to a storage closet for some... fun before work!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Please ask him to go down on you while you're manning the front desk :( He lives for the thrill of it. [REDACTED] is down for almost anything — so long as it doesn't put you at risk.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

At the start of the relationship, they might only last one or two rounds due to their inexperience. But as time progresses, he'll slowly start to get better. But it's soooo hard for [REDACTED] to focus when you're right there in front of him; splayed out perfectly on his bed and letting him bury himself deep inside your warmth, all while you— Aaaaand... Yeah, he's already spent and snoozing.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Prior to sleeping with you for the first time, [REDACTED] owned a vibrator, butt plug and fleshlight, which he would use whenever you'd pleasure yourself on lonely nights. They'd prefer not to use any toys on you as it comes across like you're not satisfied with his own hands, fingers, mouth, and tongue — but you could honestly convince [REDACTED] otherwise if you play your cards right.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a complete tease compared to his "Ren"/Haruko counterpart. They will whisper absolute filth into your ear while slipping their hands between your bodies and playing with your sex — before pulling away and innocently asking what you need from him. "D'you want more? Y'gotta tell me, angel." / "That feel good? Tell me where." / "I don't think y'can take all of me, angel. You're practically stuffed full already." / "You're droolin'. Feels that good, huh? Right here?" / "If y'want me to go harder, y'gotta beg a little more. It's cute. You're s'fucking cute." / "Want my fingers too? Tell me where." / etc. you get the point lmao

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

[REDACTED] will babble incoherent words when they're lost in the sauce (lol), but other than that, you'll mainly get soft groans and harsh sighs most of the time. However, if [REDACTED] is bottoming/getting pegged; it turns into bratty moans instead. And if you squeeze his hand or bite his collarbones, you'll have them practically whining into your skin and begging you to do it again.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Started crying when you said you loved him in bed for the first time. And sure, maybe he was getting his tears all over your shoulder — but he also gave you at least seven orgasms that night and a reason to take a day off from work.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Packing an ~8 inch dick (~6 inches when soft), with a cute pink head to contrast the scary vibe of his Jacob's ladder piercings. Girthy enough that you can just barely wrap a hand around it, as well as pale enough to match the rest of his skin tone. Leaks a lot of precum and curves slightly when erect.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

[REDACTED] has a high sex drive, but will only indulge in it when you want to. Sex is an afterthought to him, and he won't ever push you to do anything — plus, they're more than okay with rubbing one out in the bathroom to satisfy their urges. But if you're able (and willing) to match his sex drive, you can expect to do it at least two times a day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

They will stay up and either play with your hair, trace their fingers across your skin, gently rub your back, or even indulge in pillow talk! It all depends on what you tend to do afterwards, which [REDACTED] will easily comply with. He might even stay up and just... lose himself in his thoughts because [REDACTED] finally has you in his arms, safe and sound — where you belong.

#She's been sitting in her enclosure (my drafts) for the past month........ Mayhaps I will let her out #💖 — 14 days with queue.#💖 — about ren.#🔞 — woohoo zone.

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fics-lovebot · 4 months ago

Text

bts fic recs

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

divider creds: @notaorbital & @v6que

LAST UPDATED: 14/11/2024

here you can find jungkook ´s m.list

poly / ot7

love octagon? - ( @whyse7vn ) this was just too funny to me fsdfhsd, i always read it when a want to lift my mood

lovesick - ( @angelicyoongie ) yandere ot7, soulmate au, stalking, harrasment, you got 7 soulmates you don´t know about the you deff know about you, this is an on going series, hopefully i´ll be updated soon bc i loved it

seokjin

tba

yoongi

yoongi joins you in your bath and you talk about your days - ( @borathae) fluffy, vampire!yoongs, this is so wholesome :(

bewitched - ( @borathae) smut, fluff, vamp!yoongi, witch!reader, you put a spell on him so he cant cum till you say so, ON MY SOUL I FELT THIS ALL THE WAY TO MY TOES, the smut is gewwwd and the fluff is amazing ughhh, loved it

namjoon

namjoon loves creampies - ( @euphoricfilter ) smut obv, he is an ASS gUY as he shouldd, he luvs him some reverse cowgirl position, obssesed with watching cum dripping outta you, he´s just laying there thinking nasty stuff while watching you ride or die, its TEW MUCHHH

belly bulge -( @euphoricfilter ) ,,,,,do you even have to ask what this is about?, ITS A LOT GOING ONNNNNN, talking about big beeffy thick wide strong bear built namjoon and his big ol dicc, who wouldnt like this??, he jerks himself off throught your stomach...

forg_tful - ( @joon4eva ) established relationship, angstt, fluff, this one makes me cry every tIMEEEE, he forgets something important for the 2394823948th time so reader thinks he just doesn´t care, he doesn´t like being away from her :((((, but he owns it up bc he is a grown mature emotionally stable man, we love it

love language - ( @rmnamjoons ) soulmate au, mute!reader, non idol au. THE FLUFF IS BEAUTIFULLLLLLL, i love joons pov before meeting her, and the day the meet???? i died, it was so cute

blushes from a rose - ( @army-author ) fluff, supernatural au, popular witch!namjoon, shy forest nymph!reader, so like,,i need a movie of this asap

hoseok

tba

jimin

split - ( @sombreboy ) smut, snake hybrid!jimin, he has a fORKED tongue and TWO cocks!!!! :D NOW THIS, i remember reading it a long time ago and thinking it was the best hybrid!jimin fic out there, i´ve read about him being a cat, a dog, etc but a SNAKE??? now that´s new, loved it

faded love - ( @jamaisjoons ) angst, fluff, cheating husband!jimin, ceo!jimin. "he doesn’t need to say it. because you can feel your husband, park jimin, falling out of love with you." ANGST FESSSTTTT, another one for my personal collection, i love this sm

taehyung

devotion - ( @borathae) smut, vampire!tae, period sex, multiple orgasms, period blood licking, its a LOT GOING ON I- wow, pls just read it

These Things Take Time - ( @laughing-with-god ) yandere! supernatural tae, gaslighting, gore, horror, ex bf jimin, this is written so well , ghost? tae but not really, doppleganger kinda thing, loved it

let love be enough - ( @jingabitch ) ex-husband!tae, cheater!tae, divorce au, you meet again after 20 years on your daughter´s wedding. YUPPP this is an angst fest right here, probably my favorite tae angsty fic out there, i LOVE IT

the curse of a crush - ( @army-author ) fluff, supernatural au, down bad witch!taehyung, witch!reader, he´s so in love with you he thinks you´ve cursed him with a love potion, SO CUTEEE

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sserpente · 9 months ago

Text

Magic Hands

Synopsis: Astarion teaches you how to use a dagger in battle. The sweaty training calls for a bath in the nearby river afterward and you can’t help but admire the vampire rogue in the pale moonlight, surrounded by the glistening water surface. He seems… tense. Perhaps you can repay him by giving him a gentle massage?

A/N: Why did this take me so long to write, oh my gods! :D

Words: 2038 Warnings: smut, mentions of sexual trauma

Your battle cry echoed across the entire campsite when you plunged your blade forward. Lae’zel’s makeshift mind flayer dummy was rendered with holes at this point, oozing hey from several rips in the old fabric she had used to craft it.

The impact had you sway to one side and you shifted your weight, your left arm flailing about clumsily.

“Good. Now try that again without losing your balance.”

You grunted, shooting him an angry glance. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms crossed before his chest. It was almost distracting. Almost.

You had been at it for hours. Granted, it had been your idea—if you were going to survive this involuntary adventure, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. You were surprised you’d even made it this far. And, since attacking from the shadows was much more your cup of tea than storming headfirst into battle like Wyll or Lae’zel, you’d kindly asked Astarion to help you out.

He was a tough and strict teacher, you had to give him that. But you were making quick progress too. Before today, you hadn’t even been able to hold a dagger properly.

You withdrew your weapon and returned to your original position.

“Ah-ah-ah. No, darling. What did we just learn?” His teasing voice went down like butter. That was even more distracting.

Astarion pointed at your left foot. You shifted in the dirt, creating a grovelling noise.

“There we go. Now try again.”

You did as you were told, lunging at the dummy once more. Astarion tutted at you when you lost your balance yet again.

“Hey, don’t tut me!”

“I see where the problem lies now. Go on. Get back in position.”

Grunting once more, you obeyed. What you were not prepared for, however, was that he would step right behind you and place his hands on your stomach and waist. You sucked in a deep breath, tensing up.

“Keep tension here. You’ll want to make sure that lovely core of yours keeps you on your feet.”

Memories from your night in the woods came flooding back, sending you down a spiral of pleasure and arousal. You cleared your throat.

“Okay. I got it. I think.”

The sensation of loss was nearly overwhelming when he let go again. You could have sworn you saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.

You got into position again, took a deep breath, and… struck.

“Good girl.” You would have dropped the dagger had it not been lodged deeply within the mindflayer dummy. “Again.”

Again. Again and again and again until Astarion was certain you got the hang of it. Your arms were burning by the time he clapped and finally let you off the hook for the day.

“Be honest, you’re enjoying this a little.”

The vampire smirked. “More than just a little, darling.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, forcing you to bite your lower lip. “Whatever. I should get washed.”

“Hmm, so should I.”

You offered him a smile. Making your way toward the lake, you walked past Lae’zel who was sharpening her sword, Karlach who was dancing to a song only audible to her, and Gale practicing little magic tricks. Wyll and Halsin were with Shadowheart, talking and drinking by the fireplace.

You sighed. It could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the imminent threat of a tadpole turning you all into thralls.

Once you reached the shore, there was no hesitation in your movements. You stripped off your clothes, knowing the bushes would hide you from unwanted eyes. As for Astarion… well… there was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

The vampire followed suit though you did notice that he avoided your gaze as he undressed. You couldn’t help but watch him regardless as he waded into the water until he was submerged hip-deep.

“You look really fine in the moonlight, you know that?” you said, joining him swiftly.

“Of course I do, I’m a vampire, darling.” He swam closer to you, allowing you to wrap your entire body around him. Astarion’s hands found your behind, squeezing gently.

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. His lips were cold when you met them with yours, a playful kiss soon turning into a passionate display of affection.

By the time you finally broke apart panting, Astarion rolled his shoulders with a groan.

“Is everything alright? You seem even tenser than me.”

“Oh well, it can’t be helped. Must be the weight of being a hero on my shoulders,” he spat with dismay. Oh yeah… he’d made it clear his interest in saving the refugees was ridiculously small. You had your theories on that… yet there was no way in the hells Astarion was a terrible person but rather… a person terrible things had happened to. The scars on his back spoke for themselves.

“I could help with that if you want,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Help? How?”

“This is gonna sound silly but I used to work as a massage therapist for a few years, back in Baldur’s Gate, I mean. I have magic hands. I know a lot of techniques to relieve back pain and back tension…” You trailed off, studying his reaction.

“Magic hands?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and somehow, you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Relieving a different kind of tension at your celebration with the Tieflings was one thing… having someone work his back and stroke every inch of exposed skin with skilled hands, right over the scars that had brought him so much torment… that was another.

“You want to… well… I…”

“If you want to?”

“Well… I suppose…”

You tilted your head. He wanted to accept, you could tell. But was that… concern glistening in his red eyes?

“You know, I’m, uh… I’m not offering this to have sex with you again. I mean… I really, really enjoyed myself, Astarion but… I honestly feel like that’s the reason you’re being wary, isn’t it? Along with me, um… touching your scars.”

His lips parted.

“I just want to help. And only if you’ll let me.”

“Alright… fine.”

You nodded, the tension you didn’t realise had been building up inside of you leaving your body.

“Then come find me in my tent later.”

You left him some privacy after your swim, returning to your makeshift home to find anything you could use as a massage oil. You settled for an ointment in the end, one that Halsin usually used to treat wounds. It would do. You could hardly use a bottle of grease after all.

You were rather certain Astarion waited until the others were asleep on purpose. When he parted the fabric of your makeshift door and crouched down a little to come inside, you patted your bedroll and smiled at him.

His coyness was adorable. While before his heart-breaking confession, every single word that had left his lips was a flirt, he was but a frightened young man now, intimidated by intimacy.

“Lie down, my love. And… Astarion?”

His red eyes met yours as he followed your request and removed his shirt, once again revealing those horrifying scars to you.

“You need to stop me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, alright?”

The vampire spawn smirked. “How could I possibly feel uncomfortable with your skilled hands dancing over my body, pet?”

“You know what I mean.” You grinned, relieved that his smarm was not lost on him.

“Of course.”

“Now lie down on your belly and close your eyes.”

Astarion sighed and did as he was told. You straddled him, trifling some of the oil on your hands and rubbing them together before eventually… placing your palms on his bare back.

Your fingers glided over the ridges of his scars, your thumbs digging into the muscles, looking for any tension. You found it all too quickly, working knot after knot out of his tormented back.

Soon enough, he relaxed. His sigh was so innocent you couldn’t help but lean forward and place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.

You pampered him for a while, making sure to massage each and every spot on his back. You did not fail to miss the faint moan when you asked him to turn over so you could work on the rest of his body. Gods, you were enjoying this even more than he was.

Astarion’s gaze was filled with repose and… hunger. And when your eyes travelled further down, your lips parted and you realised why.

He was hard.

“Do you… do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t… you… dare…” he muttered, eyes half-closed still.

You bit your lower lip, oily hands gliding over his chest. It wasn’t just him. You were as wet as the river you’d bathed in just a few hours back and now that you were aware just how much your sensual treatment affected him, the arousal was nearly unbearable.

Breathing heavily, you swallowed and paused.

“How about… I have an idea.”

He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh?”

His sly smirk caught you entirely off guard though you were unsure whether he was merely trying to hide his insecurity behind it. He’d told you he didn’t want you to think of him in terms of sex for now and you would respect that wish. There was no need for you to act on your own excitement even if it drove you insane. But if he let you… you wanted to make him feel good so badly that it almost caused you physical discomfort.

“I could… take care of… that,” you muttered, pointing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

Astarion raised his eyebrows, passion glistening in those red eyes.

“Let me pamper you. No sex. I might as well give you a… full body massage at this point. And if it gets too much, you stop me.”

“We… we could try.” He nodded, lying back down but keeping his eyes wide open as you opened his trousers with gentle movements and pulled his erection free.

Astarion flinched when your oily hand wrapped around his hardening length, fingertips teasing him tenderly.

“Okay?”

He nodded.

“I need you to tell me with words, my love.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Okay. That feels… nice.”

One thing you realised very quickly was that he had never experienced anything like this before. Someone who wished for nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make him feel good, without expecting anything in return. To give him back his sensuality where only he and his well-being mattered without his body being sexualised or objectified…

It must have been such a novel concept to him… biting your lower lip, you began to stroke him with firm yet tender touches, your thumb gliding over his slit and rubbing over his tip.

He squirmed, bucking his hips in response with a quiet moan. It was enough of a reaction to urge you on, your movements quickening and adapting to his rapid breathing.

You paused when he uttered your name with a start.

“No… no, don’t stop, my love… don’t you dare stop…”

So you kept going, driving him to the edge with hungry ferocity. Gods, he looked so delicious. So carefree and innocent all because of you…

“I… I… I will…”

Astarion thrust up into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Pleasure flushed his entire face, his lips parting. He tensed up, his thighs shaking and his fingers clutching at the soft material of your bedroll. He came all over your hands and knuckles, ropes of seed clear evidence of his release. You helped him ride it out, squeezing every last drop from his pretty cock until he was spent and panting, his body relaxing again bit by bit.

“You look so beautiful when you come undone…” you whispered, wiping your hands on some rags you kept nearby.

He chuckled. “And you do have magic hands. I might have to ask you to do that again soon.”

You smiled, cuddling up to him with a smile. Neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. You were perfectly fine with falling asleep like this.

“Anytime, Astarion. Always.”

#astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #bg3 #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 imagine #bg3 imagine #neil newbon

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woaza · 2 months ago

Text

Delico's nursery with a S/O who speaks another Language.

Paring(s) : Dali D. x Reader, Henrique L. x reader, Dino C. x reader, Gerhard F. x reader.

Synopsis : They were unsure how the children would take to their new mother but the children start to speak their new wife’s native/second language. Seeming to start to grow closer together. (I love this trope sm)

Word count : Over 2k (Each part is a little over 600.)

Warning : None!

A/N : The Gender isn’t specified but heavily implied maternal figure. Not completely based cannon because I just erased their wives/moms, but yk that’s just how we roll. Plus there is a total of like eight DN fanfics on here so I’m doing my best to supply. I picked languages at random, I’m only fluent in English and I’m learning Italian. Other than that this is Google translate. If there is a typo feel free to let me know!

Dali Delico. (French)

After Dali’s late wife passed away it left him a single father. After that it was hard to connect to anyone about his loss. It was traumatic for him to say the least but following his late wife’s wishes he chose to be an active father. Which was a bit strange for a man of his position to say the least. He was overwhelmed with his duties, grief, and children.

That is until he met you who was like a breath of fresh air. As much as he loved his late wife, their marriage was almost pearly political. He thought that eventually he’d remarry another woman and set another alliance. Which he does but he couldn’t be more lucky. You. He first met you at another ball, normally all the same faces but he didn’t recognize you and he knows he would’ve recognized a face like yours.

He fell first and fell harder, a true companionate marriage. It didn’t take long for him to make himself your husband. What came slower was him introducing you to the children. Ul was no problem, you cooed and smiled at the baby but Raphael was more challenging.

It had now been a little over a month since you moved in. It was Mid spring, all the flowers blooming and cute baby animals being born.

The moon was only a crest this night as Dali was awoken to the sound of wailing. Ul was crying, Dali peaked open one of his eyes. Not lifting his head from the pillow. Checking to see if you had heard the baby, you hadn’t. He sighs a bit before he gets out of bed. Making his way to the crib lifting Ul up and rocking him in his arms gently. Which did help calm him down but the tears didn’t cease.

“Lait! —Lait!” Ul started to repeat the same word, Ul was at the age when he began to babble and say small words. Yet this word… or noise was new to Dali. He was far too tried to really think about what Ul was saying, After a small moment he sighs and simply checks his diaper and upon seeing it clean assumes Ul just wants some milk. After that Ul falls right back to sleep and Dali is able to climb back into bed with you. Now with a satisfied sigh he pulls the covers over himself and pulls you close to him.

The next morning he had some duties to attend to but was home by lunch. He was quick to look for you and the children. Then much to his satisfaction finds you with both of the children by the large fountain. He starts to walk across the court yard. Before he opens his mouth to speak he hears Raphael and it catches him a bit off guard.

“Bébés canards!” He says his small cubby hand pointing to the small ducks and their mother bathing in the fountain together. You smile and nod you head. “Oh oui! Ce sont des bébés canards très mignons!” Raphael seems to somewhat under stand, he smiles and nods leaning onto you and grabbing ahold of your skirt as all three of you stare at the ducks.

Dali can’t help but smile, happy to see you bonding with his (your) children.

Henrique Lorca (Spanish.)

Raising Twins was a handful, in which he had no part in. Henrique didn’t lean one way or the other. Yes he loved his daughters, but he was also nobility and did very little to help actually raise them. A head pat and a hug when he had time. Yet at his grown age he couldn’t change a diaper if he had to. He believed he was far above that kind of behavior. The head of house Lorca changing a nappy? Be realistic.

For men like him he was never really taught a deep parental connection. Like how his Daughters are now he was also raised by nanny. But unlike parents, nanny’s are forced and paid to be with you. They will care about you and grow connected to you but it just will never been the same a your parent.

When he got married to you, he was over the moon. You were so beautiful and lovely conversation. Next thing you knew you were living in the Lorca manor. You yourself were a busy lady, now with the title promotion of being the lady of the house. Doing your best to keep up with Henrique. What he didn’t do was properly warn you about was His two daughters.

It wasn’t that the two girls were bad and you needed to be warned, it was how little he mentioned them before your wedding. It was a bit concerning. But you still couldn’t be more happy with getting the title of Step mom. You almost immediately jumped into the role, Lucia and Elena couldn’t be more happy with their new mom. You played and spent decent time with them. While Henrique still was more or less absent. It wasn’t until The whole situation with Dali did he really start to notice his two children.

It was late in the evening. Well past Supper when he came home, he was exhausted and tired. All he wanted to was to find you, rest and bathe. He walked to your shared chambers just to find you absent. He quirked a brow at the empty room, it was so late where could you be?

“Where is my wife?” He stopped a nearby maid, who quickly told him you were putting the twins to rest. He rolled his eyes, not a job for someone of your status. He marched over to the twins room, as he got closer he started to hear something. With each step he got closer it came more and more clear.

Clear as day he heard a soft melody “Hija del corazon- ” It was your voice and the twins singing along. “Deja ya de llorar, Junto a ti yo voy a estar.” The hallway was dark besides the moon shining through the windows and the dim light of the room, you and the twins were in. He got closer and peaked through the crack in the door. He watched as You pulled the duvet over each of them.

“Buenas noches.” a gentle smile crossed your features. The both looked up at you at yawned a bit before they responded “Buenas noches mamá.�� Something about the moment made his heart swell.

Dino Classico (German)

Classico absolutely had no part in his son’s childhood up till this point. He could care less in much honesty. Theodore was a child from one of his past marriages. One of his failed wife’s, a woman who couldn’t handle him. A women who wasn’t fit to be his wife. This was Dino’s Mentality, which for better or worse is really bad. It made him a horrible husband and an even worse father. If he couldn’t bring himself to love his wife, whom would be his lover.

Then it was no surprise to see how he interacted with his child. Poor Theodore, an over independent child. Growing more and more like his father by the day.

He was a cold and callous man. Every marriage he has had was strictly political. Each wife had to take certain steps and follow rules. Sleep in different room, dress the way he wanted, and speak the way he wanted. He never has felt a deep love or passion. He just wasn’t very interested in such things.

That was all true, and still is for the most part. He still ignores Theodore but his views on how to love may have changed. As you liked to tell him “Change can be for the better.” He for the most part didn’t like when you said that. He preferred tradition, change was a hassle and took time to get used to.

Though each day at a time you take to changing your cold husband’s mind. You’ve made remarkable progress as-well! He even likes to share a room, he says it’s simply because “Your the only wife who’s been able to meet my expectations.”. Which yes could be true but you knew deep down he truly loved you.

Today was a cold winters day, A routine day. Nothing out of the ordinary. He woke up and left to deal with some Vlad Agency business. Upon returning home normally he is greeted by you, which he believes is a must and only what he deserves. Yet today you are not by the door. Only the maids and butlers great him back.

“Where is my lady wife?” A scowl across his face as he speaks, a butler is quick to tell him you are with Theodore. He can’t help but be a bit confused. With Theodore? What reason could you have to be with Theodore, there was simply nothing of discussion between the two of you. He never cared if Theodore liked you or even if the two of you had a relationship.

He quickly made is way to Theodore’s small private room, it wasn’t a play room. No, Theodore was more sophisticated. It was more akin to a study room. He opens the door to find you and Theodore sat at a table leaned over a book.

“Son, wife.” He says firmly, both of you look up from the book. You smile and Theodore gives a respectful nod. “Neither of you greeted me upon my arrival. What is the meaning of this?” He was displeased and it was clear.

“I’m sorry Husband, me and Theodore must’ve gotten caught up in our studies.”

“Studies?” He said quickly not even giving you time to breathe. “Why yes, our studies. Theodore has-”. Before you could finish he cuts you off lifting his hand and with his other pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have little care for such things, don’t make the same mistake tomorrow. As of now I need you to come with me. I have actual important matters to discuss with you.”

“Yes of course.” You quickly stand up and push your chair in. Your gloved hand was gently placed on Theodore’s shoulder. “Wir werden unser Studium bald fortsetzen.” He smiled at this and nodded his head “Ja, bitte. Das uh, würde mir gefallen.” This made Dino’s eyes widened. His pride wouldn’t let him comment on it. Refusing to give the child even a spec of attention.

You and him quickly exit the room. “You know you shouldn’t give the boy any attention. If he wants to learn another language I’ll pay a tutor, don’t waste your time.”. Politely you shake your head. “He’s my son, I wanted to.” Dino felt confused, why were you so kind and patient? He couldn’t help but be a bit enamored by it.

Gerhard Fra (Hindi)

Lord Fra wasn’t present at all in young Angelico’s life at all. As a matter of fact. Angelico rather annoyed him. What reason could the boy possibly have for talking to him? He had a nanny and anything he could ever realistically want. So why was this child so persistent on his garnering his attention. Children often made him angry and that fact never changed even after he had his own. Taking care of you children is low class.

Gerhard had more important goals, he had a reputation. Which he was determined to uphold. A long list of things he had to do each day and childcare wasn’t even on the list. Like his father and his father’s father they left the duties of childcare to their nanny’s and servants.

He was capable of love, he understood it. More or less and simply put he just didn’t want to give it. Believing that he had better areas to devote his attention to. Fatherhood was unnecessary for a man of his class. Why parent when you could pay someone to do that for you?

One thing he did have time and attention for was you, his newly wed wife. He loved you deeply and was completely enamored by you, it was almost hard for him to stay calm around you. To keep his dignity. Don’t get lord Fra wrong he did keep his manners about him. Yet you were so gorgeous and he had fallen completely for you. He couldn’t help but want to hold your hand or kiss you maybe in times when it would be deemed inappropriate.

Lord Fra and you, lady Fra sat in the parlor. You were sitting on a couch while he sat in a nearby armchair. Sipping on tea and talking, he loved talking with you. You were so intelligent and genuinely interesting. Dispute his work ethic Gehard always seemed to make sure to make time for his wonderful wife.

As you sit there the door opened with a slow creak. Angelico’s small face looking into the room. Gehard sighed a bit but before he could speak or dismiss the boy, Angelico quickly walked towards you. “maan, madad karo!” The young boy said running to your side. Which was a bit alarming. Where had the boy learned that? Did you teach him? Surely you hadn’t?

“Madad karana?” You repeat looking at Angelico. Gerhard grows silent watching the intercation. “Haan madad karo.” He says his small hands gripping onto the fabric of your dress.

“Angelico, do not pester my wife.” Lord Fra says firmly, done with Angelicos behavior. “No dear truly it’s fine, if you’ll just excuse us for moment.” With that you and the young boy left hand in hand leaving Gerhard in the parlor all alone. He sat there pondering on what he witnessed. A feeling of jealousy started to bud in his mind, which he desperately tried to push away. Him lord Fra Jealous of a child, let alone his own. That is ridiculous, but the way you held the boys hand and immediately locked your attention onto to him. It stirred an unknown feeling in him. Yes he was jealous of the boy taking you away from him but it made him think of his own mother.

How wished that she had cared half as much as you do. It was bitter sweet to see his wife be so maternal to his child.

(This is my first post on this account and my first Fan-fiction. I did my best to learn common curtsy for fan fics, but if I mis-tag something please tell me. I’m learning and appreciate your patience.)

#delico's nursery x reader #delicos nursery #delicos nursey x reader #Dali Delico x reader #Dali x reader #henrique lorca x reader #Henrique x reader #dino classico x reader #dino x reader #Gerhard Fra x reader #Gerhard x reader #taking care of your kids is low class

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aurrorraaaa · 5 months ago

Text

Nightmare

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Why the hell did you do that!? Are you stupid woman!?!” He said angrily as he tried using his rct, but it didn’t stop the bleeding.

You smiled, weakly cradling his cheek with your hand as you laid in his arms, “I-isn’t it obvious?...because I love you kuna,”

Your vision was blurry but you saw the red blood covering his clothes. As your vision cleared, you could see his scrunched up face, he was crying. “Stop. Stop fucking talking.”

“S-sukuna. It won’t work..I-I won’t—“

“No, no. Stop saying stupid things. You’re going to be fine, ‘m gonna fix you up ok? Just stay with me woman. Keep your eyes on me, don’t close ‘em.”

He continued trying to stop the bleeding but it didn’t slow down at all.

You were slowly getting colder and colder and your heart beat was slowing. You didn't have long.

You could feel him shaking. He was holding you so close, whispering things to you but you couldn’t hear. Your hearing was fading too.

You tried to hold his cheek again, but he held it with his own hand, kissing your palm. He looked at you, eyes puffy and red.

He leaned down to kiss your lips, you kissed back as much as you could, but it was getting harder and harder to stay awake.

As he pulled away, your vision got worse, your heart beat even slower and slower.

“it was supposed to be me.. please, no, Y/N, please d-don’t leave me..”

His voice was so sad. It hurt so bad to see him cry over you. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him, you wanted to comfort him and tell him that everything was going to be ok, yet you couldn’t. You were too weak.

“K-keep your eyes open, for fucks sake! PLEASE! Please don’t—“

But soon enough, it went black. Your heart stopped beating and the last thing you heard was a gut wrenching scream from the man you loved.

*******************************************************

Suddenly he jolted up, stream of tears covered his face. He was shaking and quickly looked to his side only to find you sleeping peacefully

He gently shook you, making you stir. You opened your eyes and saw the tears rolling down his cheeks. You immediately sat up, hugging him tightly.

He held onto you, crying into your neck.

He mumbled, saying something along the lines of you dying and him begging you to stay.

You rubbed his back, comforting him. You felt his grip on your waist tighten as you did this.

“Hey, hey, shhhhh.. it’s ok..I’m here. Everything is ok darling.”

He pulled away to look at you, wiping his tears, he cupped your face and looked into your eyes. He was so relieved. He pulled you into a deep passionate kiss. He didn't want to let go. He didn't want to wake up to a world without you.

You kissed back, feeling his lips move against yours. His lips were soft, they were wet from his tears but you didn't mind.

As you pulled away, you held his face. He grabbed your hands and placed them on his cheeks. He nuzzled your hand.

"Don't leave me."

"I won't, I promise my love, cmon let’s go back to sleep, kay?”

You gave him a soft smile and another peck on his lips before going back to sleep. He cuddled up against you and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, he was still holding onto you as if you would slip away. You smiled softly at him and gently rubbed his head.

His eyes fluttered open and looked up to you. He kissed your cheek and got up.

"Morning sleepy head." You chuckled.

He didn't reply and instead, gave you a soft smile. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes and how exhausted he looked.

You stood up, grabbing his hand and walking him to the bathroom. You prepared the bath and got into the tub together. “Kuna lay against me, let me wash your hair.”

Reluctantly, he fit himself in between your legs and laid his head against you chest. You grabbed the shampoo and started running it through his hair, lathering it over his scalp and massaging his head. He never showed weakness but when he was with you, he was a completely different person. He felt so incredibly loved right now. he felt like he was on cloud nine. You spent a good 7 minutes rinsing his hair and kissing his back, you swear you saw him almost cry again because of how affectionate and gentle you were being with him. Never in his life has he ever experienced this, he was always treated harshly by the people around him eventually making him become the “monster” he is today. Yet even with all his flaws, you loved him.

You grabbed the body soap and washed him, paying extra attention to his tattoos and scars.

Once he was all clean, you hopped out of the tub and handed him a towel, while you wrapped one around yourself.

You both got dressed and brushed your teeth.

He walked over to you and placed his hands on your hips.

You smiled and asked him if he wanted to stay in today and watch movies. He agreed, kissing your forehead and going to the kitchen.

After making breakfast, he made his way to the couch where you were seated and sat next to you.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

"Are you feeling better?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Yes, thank you. I'm sorry you had to see that." He said quietly.

"It's alright, just know that you can talk to me." You gave him a soft smile and peck on his cheek, making him blush slightly.

He turned on the TV and put on a random movie.

You were so cute, the way you would laugh and hide your face, the way your eyes lit up at the screen. You were absolutely adorable. He couldn't help but smile, which was rare.

Throughout the entire movie, you and Sukuna cuddled and ate popcorn.

He loved every second of it.

It was night already when the movie finished. He stretched and got up.

"Thank you again, princess." He said softly, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a cup of water.

"Anything for you my love. Now go get some rest, you need it." You smiled and stood up.

You hugged him and told him goodnight, before walking to your bedroom.

You flopped onto the bed and got comfy, pulling the covers over your body.

A few moments later, the door opened and the bed dipped as sukuna got in next to you.

"Is everything ok?" You asked him, turning to face him.

He simply nodded and pulled you closer.

He was being oddly affectionate tonight. But it was nice, he was a big softie.

"Thank you for putting up with me, princess." He whispered.

You chuckled, "it's not hard. You're easy to deal with, well, sometimes. I love you, even when you're a pain in the ass."

You could've sworn you heard him let out a little laugh, but maybe you were imagining things.

"I love you too, my little one." He said, pulling you close.

He rested his chin on the top of your head and played with your hair.

You nuzzled into his chest, breathing in his scent.

"Goodnight, kuna."

"Sleep well, angel."

And with that, the two of you fell asleep, knowing no matter what happened, you'd always be there for each other.

a/n: I tried writing angst but i literally couldn’t like I need to write happy endings yall💔💔💔💔💔💔 omg i just realized how out of character I write sukuna 😭 whatevez

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna scenarios #soft sukuna #sukuna x reader #im just a girl #cute #slight angst #idk man #im going insane #just girly things

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00-jammy-00 · 6 months ago

Note

HI!

Could you do a reader deity who is basically forgotten but Yan finds them and worshippes the hell out of them? (Maybe to the point of having a cult if you're comfortable)

And if you're uncomfortable with the ask that's perfectly fine! I'll probably send another Idea then!

Also any chance I could be 🔪 anon?

Thank you and have a good day! :D

Yan!Worshipper HC’s

Yan!Worshipper x GN! Deity! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, implied stalking, nsfw mentions, manipulation, cult themes, he’s really pathetic I won’t lie

A/N - One more day until my 1K follower special ends!

———————————————————————————————————

Yan!Worshipper who had stumbled upon you when he decided to listen to his dumbass boss and go hiking. He had fallen down the side of a hill, almost breaking his ankle in the process. Though, all of that pain was so worth it when he saw your old, ruined shrine.

Yan!Worshipper who began visiting once a week. When you noticed you had finally gotten a follower, you were excited so you showed yourself when he prayed. He saw stars. You were so gorgeous, so perfect. Just seeing you had his jaw dropped and his pants uncomfortably tight.

Yan!Worshipper whose schedule slightly changed. Visiting you once a week, once every three days, once a day, multiple times a day… It didn’t matter though! He quit his job because you blessed him with amazing luck. He fixed up your shrine but he still felt horrible, you were forgotten. He did the only thing he could think of doing and started to spread the word about you.

Yan!Worshipper who slowly developed a following for you, just a few people here and there…a few hundred. He was a devoted man okay?! Of course he led the cult, none of these fuckers were worthy. None of them were allowed to gaze upon you but him. Only he could bask in your presence, bathe you, dress you, watch you, follow you, fuck you.

Yan!Worshipper who snapped a few necks while attempting to keep this cult going. Some people were so ungrateful, didn’t see what you had to offer. He made sure to soothe you whenever you got too stressed about the disappearances too. “It’s okay, my love, they are apart of something bigger, now look at all the offerings you are getting!” He made sure these brainless drones donated a bunch to this fucking thing too, he couldn’t go broke while servicing you.

Yan!Worshipper who is attending to your every need constantly. He brought you the finest silks, the biggest bed, the ripest fruit and anything else you wanted, as long as you were pleased then he was happy. It made him even more happy when you let him service you in other ways.

Yan!Worshipper who pounds you like the world is ending tomorrow. He can’t help but constantly be touching you, admiring you. He drags his fingers down your body, memorising every single piece of you. You were all his! He didn’t care about his own pleasure when his god was sitting right there. He once came three times just from giving you head.

Yan!Worshipper who’ll never let the cult be shut down. He’s paid off police and government officials to turn a blind eye to the murders sacrifices that happen at the mountain. He couldn’t have his work taken away. God forbid you get taken away. You’re his now. You chose him.

———————————————————————————————————

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 1 year ago

Text

(quite) big (not so) bad wolves

pairing: bunny hybrid fem!reader x wolf hybrid!Seungcheol x wolf hybrid!Joshua x wolf hybrid!Mingyu (ft. fox hybrid!Yeji and fox hybrid!Wooyoung)

genre: smut, pwop. minors dni.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and medication, foursome, all of them are mean doms (especially shua), breeding (stay safe), face fucking, double penetration, knotting, knotfucking, manhandling, degradation, reader is a brat through and through, voyeurism, choking

word count: ~3.4k

summary: everyone is scared of the big bad wolf in fairytales - not you though. you love them a little too much for your own good.

Author’s note: writing break time is over hoes, back to business for good :D

nsfw taglist: @rosecult @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @jonghyuns-husband @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17 @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu

special taglist (aka suffering): @smileysuh @lovelyhan @duhnova @himbocoups @junkissed @idyllic-ghost @flowerwonu @playmetheclassics @sluttyminghao

“It fucking stinks in here,” Yeji complains with a whine, “I know their hormones are through the roof but fuck, take a damn bath!”

“You’re saying this because you took two showers and poured an entire perfume bottle on you before we left,” you giggle, sipping on your cocktail.

“At least I can enjoy my cocktail without having to worry about heat meds.”

“Yeah…Sure….,” you gulp down, feigning innocence.

“Oh, you fucking slut.” Yeji pokes her cheek with her tongue, “You never took heat suppressants, did you?”

“Okay no I didn’t, so what?” You admit with a sassy glare.

“Well I hope I won’t end up all alone because your pussy decided to ditch me for some hybrid dick.” She clicks her glass with yours.

“I think the two-tone haired fox over there has a different opinion than yours,” you nod towards the approaching male.

“Good evening, ladies,” he smoothly enters the conversation while swirling his whiskey, “I take it there was an interesting topic under discussion?”

“Yeah, you,” Yeji blurts out without thinking, “Uh, I mean, shit-”

“It’s okay,” he laughs, swishing his silver marble colored tail, “I’m Wooyoung, by the way.”

“I’m Yeji and that’s my friend, Y/N-”

“Who is about to be left all alone,” you joke and your friend swats her tail at your leg with a dull thud.

“You saw right through me - but I guess it’s expected from someone like you,” Wooyoung comments.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yeji raises her eyebrow in question.

“Despite looking cute and rather vulnerable, bunnies are highly intelligent.”

“Oh that’s what you mean - Although Y/N is pretty smart, bunny hybrid or not,” the female fox grins and she earns an affectionate glance from you.

“I appreciate the compliments, but I think the both of you have much better things to do,” you give them a knowing smile.

“Have fun, Y/N!” Yeji excitedly kisses your cheek before taking off with her newfound company.

“And stay away from the predators, bunny. If you know what I mean.” Wooyoung sends you a sly wink, making you roll your eyes dramatically.

“Aaaaand I’m all alone. Wonderful,” you sigh audibly, looking at your cocktail, “Welp, cheers to me, I guess.”

You take a look around the bar, your eyes scan the other patrons - some are alone like you, some are drinking with their friends and others are flirting with their dates.

"One Hennessy on rocks."

Your ears perk up at the smooth voice on your left and your nose is filled with a very attractive scent. You slowly turn your head towards the source of your current torture and you swear you feel yourself swooning over the handsome stranger.

Silky black hair, slicked back with a few strands falling down on his forehead. Smooth, doll-like skin and rosy lips tenderly touching the rim of the glass.

God, you really want to suck his dick.

"Take a picture, it will last longer." He breaks the silence without looking at you and your cheeks start heating up.

"Oh shit- I-"

"It's okay, I was just messing with you" he chuckles, "Mind if I sit here?"

"I mean, nobody's sitting here," you point to the empty seat next to you and he slides into it with one smooth move.

"Hi."

"Hey there."

"What's your name?"

"I'm Y/N. And you?"

"I'm Joshua. You have a pretty name." He takes a sip from his glass.

"Thank you. And you have a pretty face." You reply and mirror his movements.

"So…what brings you here, Y/N?"

"Just wanted to have a good time with my friend. What about you, Joshua?"

"Just wanted to have a good time without my friends," he laughs, "Where is your friend though?"

"Oh, she kinda ditched me for a fox guy - He was pretty though, not gonna lie."

"Ugh, foxes - Was never fond of them." He grimaces.

"Hey, that's my friend you're talking about!"

"Your friend is a fox hybrid?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with being friends with a fox?"

"Are you kidding me? You're a bunny hybrid!" Joshua laughs, "But then again, you're talking to me right now."

"You're so funny." You snort into your drink.

"Funny?"

"Just because you're a wolf hybrid doesn't mean you're the big bad wolf, you know."

Joshua lets out a deep chuckle and scoots close enough for his leg to touch yours.

"Just because I'm being a gentleman right now doesn't mean I can't be the big bad wolf later."

“Ooh, how scary.” You joke, drinking the rest of your alcohol.

“You’re teetering on a very dangerous edge, love.” Joshua’s tone drops a few octaves, accompanied by a barely there growl.

At this point, you’re certain you can feel your insides starting to get warm and squelchy.

“You mentioned that you have friends, right?”

“Yeah. And what about it?”

“Are they wolves too?”

“Yeah, we live together. Are you interested in meeting them?” Joshua raises an eyebrow.

“Mm-hm. I bet they are very fun to hang out with.”

“Darling, are you seriously inviting yourself into a den full of alphas?”

“Maybe I am.” you grin and lean closer to him, crossing your legs.

"Bet I can take you and your friends' knots effortlessly."

Joshua lets out an evident growl and takes out his wallet, throwing a few bills on the counter.

"If your goal was to get laid tonight, congratulations, you're getting exactly that." He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you flush to his chest with a dull thud.

A giggle escapes your lips when you walk out of the club, a thin string of wetness hanging from your hole to your left thigh.

"Is your house far from here?"

"Just a five minute walk from here," Joshua holds you close, "Scared you'll soak the pavement before we get there, baby bunny?"

You gasp when you hear his words, but you can't bring yourself to form a good rebuttal.

"Thought so. Now hop hop, little bunny."

"Fuck, it smells so nice in here." you half moan when Joshua presses you on the door and runs his canines over your neck.

"Is it you or your heat talking, darling?"

"Both."

"You're so cute, Y/N." Joshua smiles and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons, making your heart swell.

Suddenly, you hear two unfamiliar voices yelling from afar, probably bickering in a different bedroom. Your ears perk up and your nose goes wild, although Joshua doesn’t share the sentiment, judging from the sigh he lets out.

“Those idiots.”

“Your friends, I presume?”

“Yeah. And they don’t seem to be in a good-”

“Joshua fucking Hong!”

A very pissed off man slams the bedroom door shut and stomps his way towards you, nostrils visibly flaring.

“Seungcheol, I can explain-”

“Explain what? That you decided to bring over a girl who’s also a bunny hybrid? All while I’m fighting to keep Mingyu in check?”

“Um, excuse me, I’m right here and I can hear you, mister pissed off.” You wave your hands in front of the agitated man.

“I am fully aware of that,” he shifts his attention to you, “And my name is Choi Seungcheol, but I’m also very pissed off - Not your fault, though.”

“Can you at least tell us what’s going on?” Joshua butts into the conversation.

“Mingyu went into his rut earlier than he was supposed to.”

“Oh.” Joshua stands baffled.

“Is that all you have to say?! I’ve been trying my damn best to calm him and his goddamn dick down and the best thing you can say is ‘Oh’?” Seungcheol angrily huffs.

“Hey, you have absolutely no reason to shit on me because Mingyu is horny - Like, what am I even supposed to do, suck his dick?!” Joshua retorts.

You watch the two men bicker for a couple of seconds until you hear a door being slammed shut and your eyes go wide when you see the definition of tall, dark and handsome walking towards you, half naked and sweat dripping down his beefy chest.

“What the fuck are you two arguing about?” The man in question - this must be Mingyu, you think - lets out a groan, “Can’t a man suffer in rut in peace?”

“Now that’s an oxymoron,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes, “I’m sorry you had to witness this,” he turns his attention to you, “Can we make it up to you somehow?”

“I can definitely think of a way that will solve enough of our problems in the vicinity,” you bite your bottom lip, “Not to mention that Joshie and I have a bet going on.”

“That reminds me…” Joshua comes behind you and you yelp when he effortlessly picks you up and settles you down on the couch, immediately pulling you in his lap, “Baby bunny was quite bold back when we were talking in the bar.” He smooths his palms over your thighs and spreads them apart, exposing your naked cunt to the other two men.

“She even said she can effortlessly take all of our knots.”

Mingyu lets out an obscene growl as his cock twitches in his sweats and he does not hesitate to drop on his knees in front of you, his nose mere centimeters away from your pussy.

"What's your name, bunny?"

"Y-Y/N," you gulp down, more wetness dripping from your hole.

"Pretty name," Mingyu rasps, "Now I know what to moan when I'll fuck this bunnycunt with my knot," he licks a fat stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit with his tongue, savouring your juices like a famished animal (he's actually one).

"Be patient, Gyu," Joshua clicks his tongue as he fumbles with the belt of his jeans, taking out his flushed cock and rubbing the tip all over your pussy.

"Oh my God, stop teasing and just stick it in!" You whine pathetically.

"You're not fucking her pussy first, Shua," Mingyu flashes his sharp canines with a menacing snarl as he shoves his sweats down to his knees, cock slapping against his toned stomach.

"Fuck, your cock is fucking huge, Gyu," you nearly drool at the sight, "I really need you fuck me stupid."

"These two are so goddamn impatient," Seungcheol's voice is heard right across the couch and you notice him sitting down on a chair, thighs wide spread, hands relaxed on the armrests, "Wishing you luck, Shua."

"Hey, pretty bunny," Joshua caresses your jaw with his hand and turns your face towards him, "Have you ever tried anal before?" What a fucking stupid question.

You nod feverishly, your sanity slipping away when you feel Mingyu's bulbous tip stretching your hole as he pushes his cock in, your head rolling back on Joshua's shoulder from the overwhelming feeling of fullness.

"Of course you have - It stimulates your pretty lil' fluffy tail, doesn't it?"

"Mm-hm," you clench around Mingyu's cock, "N-Now are you gonna fuck my ass or what?!"

"Babe, you need to be p-"

"Just put it in!"

"Both of you shut the fuck up." Mingyu growls and picks up your thighs, pushing them flat against your chest. He starts hammering your pussy, setting a rough pace from the very beginning and you can only cling onto his thick forearms, tears stinging your eyes.

"This - this is what I needed, fuck," the man above you huffs and moans with each thrust he delivers, "Your pussy is fucking magic, Y/N."

In between your horny haze, a loud gasp escapes your lips as you feel you other hole being stretched out and you realize it's Joshua finally acting up and fucking you like you wanted to.

"She's so…tight, nngh," the older man groans when he thrusts his cock in your ass, wrapping his arms around your midriff for leverage, "Bunnies are really something else."

Your brain can barely register what the two wolves say, all you can focus on is the delicious stretch of their cocks and how full you feel.

"She's delirious," Seungcheol half-moans, his hands now busy with his own cock, eyes fixated on your body taking whatever his wolf friends are giving you - patiently waiting for his turn to ruin you.

“Fuck, I’m almost ready to knot her,” Mingyu hisses through his teeth, your whimpers growing louder each time his swollen knot prods at your hole, threatening to push into you any second now.

“Please knot me, Gyu, pretty please!” You whine and dig your nails in his tanned forearms.

“You want him to knot you, darling?” Joshua snickers in your ear as he fucks your other hole from beneath, “Are you sure you can take his big, bad wolf knot in your tiny little bunnycunt?”

“She can and she will,” Seungcheol growls from the other end of the living room, his hand fisting his already swelling knot, “There are three wolves in this house and my patience is running thin.”

You opt to open your mouth and talk back, but it all dies down in a silent moan when Mingyu finally pushes his entire knot in your heat, an evident bulge forming in your tummy - all thanks to his size. The man licks his lips with an obscene sound when he takes out his entire cock, only to slam it back into you with full force.

“M-Min-gyu, s-shit! I’m gonna cum!” You scream and arch your back off Joshua’s torso, but his arms keep you locked flush to him, tears streaming down your cheeks from feeling full to the brim.

“Aw, is the pretty little bunny crying already?” The older man gives you a pout of fake sympathy as he pushes his own knot in your ass without a warning and cums in you with a loud snarl, “And here I thought - fuck - that you could actually take our knots without a hitch,” he licks the tears off your left cheek, “You dumb little bunny whore.”

“I c-can t-take anything you g-guys will give me, I p-promise!” You sob between moans as Mingyu keeps hammering his knot in your swollen pussy, his nails digging into your soft skin.

“Oh really, bunny? Then how about this?” The man above you effortlessly lifts you up by gripping your waist, ripping you away from Joshua in an instant. He holds you in the air as if you’re a doll made of cotton and he fucks you as fast as he can, using you like a fleshlight.

“You have the best pussy I’ve ever fucked, Y/N,” he rasps, knot starting to twitch in your cunt, “And I’m gonna treat it with a nice, fat load in it.”

“Pleasepleaseplease give me you cum, Gyu, fuck my bunnycunt full of your pups!” You wrap your legs around Mingyu’s waist, clinging onto him as if your life depends on it.

The wolf hybrid buries his face in the crook of your neck as he cums, knot finally plugging you up to make sure every single drop stays in your cunt. You squirm in Mingyu’s arms from sensitivity, fresh tears of bliss staining your cheeks as you cum around his knot and squeeze him even tighter.

“Desperate lil’ cockslut, aren’t you?” He peers down on you through his thick black curls, “Cheol hasn’t even fucked you yet, doll.”

“I-I can take h-him too,” you croak out, “J-Just stuff me full already, please!”

Seungcheol gets up from his seat and discards his t-shirt, coming right behind you. His calloused hands caress the swell of your ass and they climb higher and higher, until they reach your chest. He slides your dress down to your waist, letting your tits bounce freely.

“Can’t believe you idiots didn’t take her dress off,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance while fondling with your tits, “Such a pretty little thing for us to enjoy all night long.”

“C-Cheol-”

“You’ve been running that mouth of yours all night long, haven’t you?” He grips your jaw.

“You have no fucking idea, Cheol.” Joshua sighs from the couch, jerking himself off at the sight of you being held in the air like a rag doll.

“Gyu, hold her waist. Tight.” Seungcheol orders the younger wolf and the latters lets out a snarl, but obeys either way. With one swift move, Seungcheol brings you backwards on eye-level with his cock, gripping your arms with his big hands.

“Have you ever sucked off a wolf hybrid before, bunny?”

“H-How hard can it be-”

“It ain’t your regular dick, sweetheart,” the older man rubs his swollen shaft over your cheeks, “That’s a wolf’s knot you’re about to take down your throat.”

“J-Just fuck my throat then, Cheollie!” You moan and pout your lips, eagerly kissing and licking his shaft to tease him.

“You’re one hungry little bunny.” Seungcheol chuckles and pushes his shaft into your mouth, a small gagging noise echoing in the living room as you try to fit his cock in your throat.

“Shit, she’s taking it like a champ,” Mingyu moans at the sight of your throat bulging around Seungcheol’s cock, “I could cum again from this.”

“God, I always forget how annoying you are when you’re in your rut,” the oldest scoffs and starts thrusting into your mouth with brute force, saliva starting to drip from the corners of your lips. Your eyes roll in the back of your skull, pussy clenching around Mingyu’s knot for the umpteenth time.

“Holy fuck, Y/N,” Joshua moans from afar, hand speeding up on his cock, “You better wreck the shit out of her, both of you, fuck!”

“Hear that, darling bunny? Joshie wants us to fuck the shit out of you,” Seungcheol laughs and flashes his sharp canines, “Good thing I was planning to do exactly that.”

He puts one hand on your throat, the other gripping your arm and he rams his cock down your throat, your tits bouncing from the force of his thrusts. You can only moan and whine around his veiny shaft, still stuck on Mingyu’s fat knot.

“I’ve wanted to stuff your pretty little mouth ever since you stepped into our apartment,” Seungcheol growls, “Mess up your glossy, puffy lips and make you cry from my cock - But you’re a greedy little slut who wanted to fuck my friends first.”

You wish you could talk back to him and rile him up even more, but he’s right in everything he says and you have zero regrets.

“Shit, I’m about to knot,” Seungcheol moans, “I’m gonna knot your bratty little mouth, bunny, hope you have big lungs.”

Your eyes go wide when he pushes your knot in your mouth, locking himself in place to cum straight down your throat, trying your best to swallow all of his cum. As if on cue, Mingyu’s knot finally softens and slips out of you, your pussy overflowing with his thick load.

You dig your nails into Seungcheol’s thighs, your oxygen running low, but he gets the hint and carefully removes his knot out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe.

“Fuck -cough- shit! Why the fuck are you so -cough- big?!” You try to regain your composure, body still shaking from your orgasms.

“Told you, sweetheart,” Joshua stands up from the couch, sweaty and sticky from his own orgasm, cum staining his abs, “Wolves are just built differently.” He swiftly gets between the two other men and carries you bridal style, rolling his eyes when he notices Mingyu plopping on the couch tiredly.

“That…was the best dicking I’ve ever experienced,” you mumble in your post-sex haze, “Even if I feel sore everywhere.”

“I don’t think it would have been the best dicking if you weren’t a tiny bit sore, bunny.” Joshua laughs and his eyes morph into the same crescent moons you first noticed back in the bar.

“Um, Josh? Where are you taking me?”

“To the bathroom, silly! You need a serious shower right now.”

“As if you don’t need one.” You snort.

“Cheol is right, you have a really bratty mouth.”

yeji🦊: y/n where tf are u??

yeji🦊 : girl i’ve been calling you for ages

yeji🦊 : Y/N L/N ANSWER UR GODDAMN PHONE

y/n🐇: hey bae

y/n🐇 : sry for going mia but i’m okay!!

yeji🦊 : okay as in??

y/n🐇 : getting the best dicks in my life

yeji🦊 : hold tf up- DICKS??

yeji🦊 : HOW MANY GUYS DID YOU FUCK YOU BITCH-

#svthub #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #joshua smut #mingyu smut #svt scoups #svt joshua #svt mingyu #choi seungcheol #joshua hong #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen #tw alcohol

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