#honestly kinda regret waiting so long to get back on it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mafiadad5 · 6 months ago

Text

cyber sex || Lee haechan

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ now playing- cyber sex: doja cat

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Audioguy!haechan x fem!reader

ִ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Genre/ warnings: smut, college au, 18+ mdni!, needy sub haechan/ soft dom reader, cyber sex, unprotected sex, praising, auralism, creampie ig?, oral (fem receiving), marking (if you squint), begging. Kinda nerdy looking haechan… Lmk if I miss anything.

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Wc- 8.2k

authors note- omg… lmk what you think guys. Part 2 maybe I have some ideas…👀. No proof read cus lol. I hope you enjoy! <3

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One day your friend joked to you and told you about these corny little audio guys that were on sound cloud. You were captivated to say the least, and curiosity filled your brain so that night you found yourself on sound cloud searching. Most of them were very laughable like your friend suggested, but then you came across this one profile.

"hcillusion119." You muttered out loud, biting your lip in curiosity as you clicked on the profile.

The first thing you noticed was instead of one of those anime boy banner things, it was just black with his username splat in the center. Ok, so far so good. The next thing that you noticed was how the profile description were just the words: "just listen, you won't regret ;)"

You giggled to yourself from how full of himself this guy was, so you decided to listen to an audio, expecting to laugh just like the other times, but this one was different. His voice wasn't what you had expected, it was whiny, but not in a high-pitched, irritating way. There was something desperate in the way he guided the listener through every step, an intensity that hooked you in. You had to admit, this was nothing like what you heard previously.

After the first audio you thought you would be done with it, but it kept creeping on your mind, causing you to go back to the one you were most familiar with, but after a while you started exploring his other audios and soon found yourself subscribed. No one knew you were into this, and you were too embarrassed to even play his audios if anyone was in the same proximity as you, this was your little secret— he was your little secret.

"Hey guys. We're gonna be doing something a bit different today, so just sit back and listen to me, okay?"

You sat there quietly, your body relaxing as his smooth voice seeped into your ears. It felt like he was speaking directly to you, and you couldn't help but nod along as if he could see you.

"I just want to start off by saying that we've reached 20k followers up here. I'm very grateful for all of you guys and I'll make sure to put out great content. That being said, to show my gratitude I will be hosting a little giveaway, or I guess it's like that. I want to pick one of you to have a private call with me on insta. Crazy huh? Only the best for you guys. To enter, all you have to do is comment on this post what you like about my content...and please, don't be weird... joking haha. The winner will get a private message tomorrow at 8pm. Good luck."

An embarrassing smile painted your smile as you typed out your comment on the post. You knew you probably weren't gonna win, and honestly you weren't even sure you could handle it if you did win, but something in you burned at the thought of what could happen—what it would be like to hear his voice in real time, just for you.

It was impossible to focus on anything else the next day, you even made an anonymous insta account just incase you won. The time went agonizingly slow, you honestly thought you couldn't wait any longer, but finally it was time.

You sat on your bed after a long day of class and work, checking your notification center obsessively, heart racing with both hope and dread.

8:05 came, then 8:10, and still nothing. By 8:15 you were ready to give up, the little spark of hope you had starting to flicker out. Just as you were about to close the app, your phone buzzed, a bright orange message appearing at the top of your screen.

hcillusion119- hey, sorry for the late text, I'll make it up to you when we call, but I want to let you know that you won.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the notification, your heart leaping into your throat. No way. It had to be too good to be true. You fumbled with your phone, nearly dropping it as you jumped up in shock. After pacing around your room for a solid five minutes, trying to wrap your mind around it, you finally opened the message.

unknown825: omg tysm TT

hcillusion119: no, thank you :)

hcillusion119: will you plz choose a date and time?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you considered your options, a thousand scenarios racing through your mind. You could cancel, let someone else, someone braver, take the opportunity. Instead, you found yourself typing.

unknown825: umm, well are you available tonight at 10?

There. You've done it, now there was no turning back.

hcillusion119: yea im available tonight. you're not very patient are you lol? what's your insta so I can call?

unknown825: I just like to get things done. my insta's the same as my user on here.

hcillusion119: ok, did you get my dm?

unknown825: yes, I'll talk to you then.

You barely registered your response before throwing your phone onto the bed, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it. This was real. It was actually happening. You had less than two hours before the call, and the weight of it started to settle on you. What if you said something dumb? What if your voice shook? What if you just... froze?

The minutes went by slowly, agonizingly. You checked the time over and over, becoming more and more nervous with each glance.

9:45... almost time. You laid down in bed, trying to calm your racing thoughts, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

9:59.

You took a deep breath, staring at the screen as you scrolled through Instagram, pretending to distract yourself, but your heart was in your throat.Any moment now, your phone would light up, and you'd hear his voice—this time just for you.

Incoming call from hcillusion119

You took a deep breath, letting it ring for a moment before picking up, the silence so intense you could almost hear a pin drop.

Then his voice broke through.

"Hey."

A chill ran down your spine, sharper than you'd expected. Hearing his voice in your ears felt different this time—more personal, more intimate.

"Hi."

Your voice came out low, almost shy. You sat the phone on your stomach, unsure of what to do with your hands. The awkward smile on your face wasn't helping you feel any less flustered.

"How are you doing today?" he asked, his tone casual but warm.

"I'm good, exhausted. What about you?"

"I'm good too," he replied. "tired as well."

"Why are you tired?" You responded.

"Well, I just moved... like yesterday, so."

"Oh, cool. Where did you move to?"

"I can't tell you that." he said with a teasing edge to his voice.

"Oh, right... I guess I understand."

The conversation wasn't flowing like you'd imagined. It was awkward. You questioned why you were so nervous in the first place.

"What's your name?" His voice dropped lower and softer, catching you off guard.

"I can't tell you." you mimicked, trying to match his playful tone.

"Ahh, I see what you're doing. Well unknown825, why are you so tired?"

"I had school and work, so I'm pretty worn down."

"School?" He sounded curious, his tone lighter.

"Yeah, I'm in college. You're not like... an old man right?"

He laughed, the sound soft and genuine.

"No, I'm in college too."

"Oh cool."

Silence fell between you again, the awkward kind that made your heart race for no reason. You didn't want to keep bombarding him with boring questions, but you also didn't want the conversation to just end. Still, you felt that sinking feeling that maybe you should've canceled after all.

"So, what's your favorite audio?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Stress Relief."

"Ah, who would've thought?" He chuckled, his voice dropping an octave. "So you like to be talked through it, huh?"

You hummed in response, turning onto your stomach as you clutched the phone.

"Do you like being talked through it?" You asked, your tone slightly teasing.

The line went quiet, and for a second, you wondered if you pushed too far, but then you heard him lick his lips, a small noise you wouldn't have caught if you hadn't been listening so intently.

"Yeah, I do." he admitted, voice deeper now. "Can't help it when I hear a pretty voice like yours."

Your cheeks flushed as a smile crept across your face. "So what are you saying? You want me to talk you through it?"

"I never said that." he interrupted quickly. "Besides, you wouldn't be able to handle it, Miss Stress Relief."

He laughed softly.

"No, you're the one who wouldn't be able to handle it." You shot back, your voice in a mocking tone.

"Are you trying to challenge me?" His tone shifted, there was an edge to it now.

You hummed again, licking your lips before replying. "I never said that,"

You could feel the tension building, the invisible line between the two of you tightening with each word exchanged. You were both teasing each other.

"but I know you want me to." you continued, voice low. "If you asked nicely... maybe I would."

Silence.

The only thing you could hear was his breathing—slow, but heavy. Even that sounded beautiful, like every part of him was designed to captivate you. You waited, the pressure coiling tighter in the pit of your stomach. Then his voice came again, softer this time.

"Talk me through it."

But there was a command in his tone.

"I said nicely."

There was a pause, and you could almost picture him struggling with the request before he spoke again.

"Ca—Can you please talk me through it?"

"That's more like it." You whispered, smirking. "See what happens when you listen? Now... are your pants down? If they aren't, pull them down."

You waited, hearing the soft rustle of fabric on the other end. He was listening, and the thought made your pulse quicken. Thrill ran through your body, you had never done anything like this before.

"What do you want me to do next?" His voice was quieter now, the assertiveness from before completely gone.

"I want you to touch yourself, but not too fast, okay?"

You paused, waiting for his breathing to change—waiting for him to obey.

"Are you doing it?"

"Yeah." he breathed out, almost as if the word escaped him unintentionally.

"Good. Now, I want you to keep going, but don't finish until I tell you to. Can you handle that?"

There was a pause, his breath quickening.

"I can handle it." he replied, though his voice wavered just a bit.

"We'll see."

You could feel the heat radiating through the connection, charging the atmosphere around you. His breathing was heavier now, more ragged, each inhalation betraying just how hard he was trying to please you.

"Tell me how it feels." you encouraged, your voice silky and low.

"It feels... so good." he stammered, his words interrupted by tiny gasps. "I want you. I want to feel you. I want you here with me." He spoke again.

A shiver ran down your spine at the vulnerability in his tone. The yearning in his voice made you only think about him—how he sounded, how he felt.

"Touch yourself harder, let me hear you." You whispered.

He followed your command, his voice becoming strained and desperate Each moan a mix of pleasure with restraint, and you could practically visualize—lost in passion, chasing the edge of that sweet release.

"Are you going faster?" You asked, your heart pounding with anticipation.

"No... I- I won't until you tell me to." he responded, voice trembling, you could hear the struggle in his words.

"You're such a good boy. You can go faster." You could feel a rush of satisfaction at how he gave himself over to you.

"Fuck." He let out in a breathy moan. You could hear his hand moving faster, driving you to insanity knowing how desperate he was for you.

"Just like that." you murmured. "You want it, don't you?"

He gasped softly, almost pleadingly. "Yes, I want it so bad."

Before you could speak again, he interrupted. "I don't know how much longer I can hold back." His voice full with need.

"You can handle it, right? Well.. that's what you told me." You reminded him, your tone teasing. "Were you lying to me?

"No, but—" You could hear the struggle in his voice, the way his breaths quickened as he fought against the sensation.

"Please." A groan reached your ears, confirming your suspicion. "Please, I need—" His voice was whiny, but it was obvious he was trying to keep it in.

"Need what?" you interrupted, a smile on your face. "Permission?"

"Yes." He responded immediately, his breath rigid.

"You're close, aren't you?" you teased. "Beg for it. Use that voice and tell me how much you want it."

His breathing became frantic as he pleaded. "I want to cum so badly, please. I can't hold back anymore. I'll do anything you want... just please, let me finish."

You hummed softly, his voice seeping into your ears. His voice was a mix of desperation, coming out in broken gasps.

"Please... I'm begging you." The urgency in his tone echoed through your mind making you give in.

"Finish for me." You said softly.

The sound that escaped him was pure ecstasy. His voice melting into a series of gasps and whimpers— loud and desperate, sent shivers through you.

You wanted to be there, to feel him come undone against you.

"You did so well."

"Thank you." he murmured softly, trying to catch his breath, coming down from his high.

"Well... it's pretty late, I should get going." You spoke.

"Yeah cool, I understand. Have a good night." He responded, still sounding a bit winded.

"You too."

And with that you hung up, turning off your phone completely before closing your eyes, drifting to sleep as you thought about what just happened.

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A week had passed and you still couldn't shake that night. You didn't know whether to feel disappointed or proud of the night you had with a complete stranger on the internet. It was truly something you had never done before.

Walking into class you noticed an unfamiliar face talking to your professor as you walked to your seat. He was cute, you can admit that, but his sudden appearance already irritated you. You groaned as you saw your professor point your way, and the stranger started walking toward you. Currently you're working on a project that requires a partner. Luckily, you ended up working alone due to the odd number of students, but you could tell that was going to change as he walked towards you.

Your eyes immediately dropped to your phone, hoping if you pretended not to see him, maybe he would just walk past, but of course you're not that lucky.

"Hey, I'm Haechan." His voice pulled you from your thoughts. "The professor told me to partner with you for the project."

Your heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way. His voice—it was familiar, uncomfortably familiar. You felt a strange chill creep up your spine, but you quickly brushed it off. It couldn't be him, right?

"Hi, I'm Y/n." You replied, your voice coming out more clipped than you intended.

His eyes squinted ever so slightly as he looked at you in silence for a moment.

"Do you know what you're doing, or am I gonna have to teach you?" You didn't mean to speak harshly, but your words came out sharper than expected.

"I know what I'm doing." He answered, his voice low as he took a seat beside you.

You swear your blood ran cold every time you heard him speak. You listened to your fav audio guys voice a lot, you couldn't lie and say that it wasn't almost the same. It made you feel a little weirded out, only making you think of the night even more every time he spoke, but you just tried to ignore it and focus.

"So, we need to do a few things by the end of next week." You spoke.

He nodded but remained silent, his eyes locked on you in a way that made you feel exposed. His lips parted slightly as he continued to stare.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the tension. "I don't like strangers coming in my house, can I come over yours to work when we don't have class?"

"Yes, that works. Can I have your phone so I can give you my number? You know, to keep in touch." He asked.

You nodded in agreement, taking your phone and opening the phone app, handing it to him.

You looked away for one second, expecting him to quickly type in his number, but instead, you saw him swipe across the screen, heading straight for your Instagram.

"What are you doing?" You asked, irritation in your voice as you snatched your phone from him.

"I was tryna give you my insta like I said." He answered defensively, voice cracking slightly as he stared at you offensively.

"You said number." You replied, narrowing your eyes.

"Well I meant insta." He responded hastily, putting out his hand demandingly.

"Who do you think you are?" You snapped. "You're going to give me your number, it's way more practical." You handed him the phone again, this time watching him like a hawk as he slowly typed in his number, his eyes darting up at you now and then with that same suspicious glint.

"See how easy it is when you listen." You grinned, Haechan looking at you with glistening, suspicious eyes as you started typing on your computer.

"Why do you have SoundCloud and Spotify?" He asked suddenly, staring at your phone screen.

"What?" You hummed, not breaking contact from your computer.

"Why do you have SoundCloud AND Spotify. You only need one music app, right?" He asked, emphasizing his words sassily.

You turned to him, rolling your eyes, exasperated. "Why are YOU so noisy."

At this point you were clearly irritated and just wanted to get your work done, alone.

"Do you have something to hide?" He asked, leaning a bit closer, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he stared up at you.

You looked into his annoyed before sighing and turning back to your computer.

"I just listen to unreleased music up there, happy?" He hummed in response, not entirely convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to his phone.

"Are you busy tonight? I need to come over so we can discuss a new plan and get started." You didn't break any contact from your computer, typing steadily.

"You're not very patient are you?" He chuckled, scrolling through his phone.

"I just like to get things done." You responded.

He looked up from his phone, eyebrow raised as he stared at you suspiciously, as if he heard that line before.

"Yeah, that's fine. Come over at 6pm, I'll text you the address." He answered, looking down at his phone again.

"Ok, now get off your phone and give me your email so we can start working." You said.

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes but complied, turning off his phone as he rattled off his email address.

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You stood at his apartment door, annoyed as no one came to let you in. You turned around, getting ready to leave. The day had already been stressful, and now you were almost at boiling anger.

"Where are you going?"

His voice stopped you in your tracks. You didn't want to turn around, didn't want to acknowledge him—everything in you screamed to leave, but something about his voice pulled you back.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your gaze locking onto his. Haechan stood in the doorway, his frame leaning casually against the doorframe, eyebrows raised as if he hadn't just kept you waiting.

"What took you so long?" You walked toward him, your tone sharp as you fought to keep your composure.

"I was jerking off." He said sarcastically, a cocky smirk landing on his face as you looked at him with annoyance and disgust.

"Ah!" He yelped suddenly, launching himself toward you in mock attack, his hands making an exaggerated gesture as if he was going to grab you.

"Stop that was disgusting Haechan, what the fuck is wrong with you, seriously?" You asked, voice in obvious irritation.

He rolled his eyes, moving out the way so you could walk in. "Learn to take a joke."

Even though you had just got there he was already getting on your nerves.

You walked into his studio apartment, even though it was small, he made it look quite spacious and comfortable. His room was quite dark, purple and blue led lights surrounding his desk that sat next to his messily made bed, the atmosphere felt almost... intimate.

"It's so dark and scary in here." You joked trying to shake off your earlier discomfort, setting down your belongings and taking a seat on his bed.

Haechan said nothing, his face unreadable as he sat down in his desk chair, spinning it slightly to face you.

"So, why do you have a big microphone and a gaming headset?" you asked, pointing to the equipment scattered across his desk.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tightening. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... why the big setup? You recording something? Streaming? Or... something else?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze darting to the microphone and then to the floor. "I just like good audio." He muttered defensively.

"Good audio for what?"

For a moment, he said nothing, only licking his lips as if buying time.

"Huh?" You spoke in a mocking tone, raising your eyebrows as you looked at him. "You can't answer?"

"God, why are you so noisy geez." He spoke defensively, getting up from his chair and snatching the cord from the computer, grabbing the microphone, throwing it in a drawer with more force than necessary.

"Oh, so when you ask questions I'm supposed to just answer, but when I ask you it's different?" You stood up, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

"Yes." He crossed his arms too, mimicking you with a smug expression.

"Do you have something to hide Haechan?" You asked softly, inching closer to him, his sparkling eyes looking into yours as you moved closer.

"Ha, no." He chuckled lightly, though it came out shaky, his shoulders stiffening as he backed up against the desk, knocking into it with a soft thud.

"Shit." He whispered, turning around quickly, scrambling to pick up all the items that fell, growing startled as he turned back around to see you standing in front of him.

"Why are you so nervous Haechan?" You murmured faintly, your voice drifting into his ears, making his mind race.

"I'm- I'm not" His voice cracked, betraying him as he forced out a chuckle, but it died quickly.

"You sure about that?" you whispered, leaning in just a bit more, your eyes locked on his. You could practically feel his pulse as it quickened at the base of his neck.

His eyes flickered down to your lips before darting back up.

"You act like you're so tough, like you got everything figured out, but here you are, all jumpy and flustered." You teased.

Haechan let out a slow breath, his hands grabbing the edge of his desk, trying to hold himself up. "You think you know me?" His voice was low, barely more than a growl as he tried to regain control of the situation.

You smirked, backing up just a little, giving him space to breathe. "I'm starting to get the picture."

He stood there, silent for a moment, watching you with wary eyes. The tension between you was heavy, but before either of you could say anything more, his phone buzzed on the desk.

He glanced at the screen, then back at you, something unreadable passing over his face. "You gonna stay and work, or you leaving?"

"Let's just get this done." You said, taking a deep breath, breaking eye contact as you turned toward the bed.

The room felt different now, charged with something unsaid. You settled back onto the bed, pulling your laptop onto your lap, feeling Haechan's gaze on you.

"Hurry up and pull out your laptop. I don't wanna be here all night." You spoke, turning to him.

His tongue grazed the inside of his mouth as he looked at you with irritated eyes. "Ok."

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It had been over a month since you and Haechan have become friends, and you could say that he was bearable now— ok, you were kinda in love with him. How could you not be? His witty personalty, his face, his voice it was hard to not fall for him, especially when you saw him everyday. You and him were always together, hanging out mostly everyday, even after the project, so it wasn't a surprise when you got a text from him.

hey, can you come over im boreddd?

yeah

doors unlocked, just come in.

"Welcome home." He joked as you walked in.

You smiled, setting down your stuff at the door, removing your shoes to join him on the bed. He was wearing his signature outfit, a black shirt and gray sweatpants—thick frames sitting on his face, his black hair messily in a middle part.

"So what do you want to do?" He asked, turning to you.

"I don't know Haechan you invited me over." You responded, scrolling on your phone.

"Let's just watch a movie." He said.

You nodded in response, prompting him to get up to grab some snacks.

Your eyes scanned the room, stopping at his computer. Soundcloud was wide open, the screen pretty much screaming for your attention, and there you saw a familiar banner.

"What chips do you want." He asked, looking over to you, noticing you staring at the computer. You broke contact with the computer, looking at him, still a little taken aback.

"Uh, it- it doesn't matter." You said, looking back at the computer subconsciously. His eyes joined yours, staring at the computer screen then back into yours.

"Oh oops, is it too bright?" He asked, walking over to his desk and exiting out of the tab, turning down the computer brightness.

"Yea thanks." You giggled, turning back to look at your phone.

Your head flooded a thousand thoughts.

Ok, you could be overreacting and he could just be a pervert like you and you both happened to listen to the same guy, or it could be something he just stumbled across, but everything lined up so perfectly.

You turned the phone away from him, turning down your brightness as you opened Soundcloud. You went straight to his profile and the banner was obviously the same, no denying that, but you looked around the account for more hints. You couldn't find anything else, it's not like you could ask him anyways, right?

You were about to give up, but you took another good look at the profile, his banner catching your attention. You sat examining the username that was in the center 'hcillusion119." What could that mean?

"Hey Haechan."

"What?" He turned to look at you.

"If you had to choose a number what would it be? Make it in the hundreds."

"I don't know, maybe one hundred and nineteen."

Your eyes widened as you stared at your phone. No way...

"What are your initials again?" You asked, looking at your phone.

"LDH, Why?" He asked.

"Huh, where did the D come from?" You turned to him with questioning eyes.

"That's my real name Y/n. My other initials are LHC, Why are you asking?" He answered with a snarky tone.

You sat staring at him for a second, the user name replaying over and over again in your mind. That was it— the hc stood for Haechan. Of course he would choose a name like that: 'Haechan Illusion 119', it was right in front of your face.

"I have to go to the bathroom, take a second to get back normal because you're acting weird." He said, interrupting your thoughts.

You turned to him nodding, going back on your phone like there wasn't a care in the world. You sat there waiting patiently for the bathroom door to shut and lock, waiting a few seconds before sprinting up, taking a seat in his computer chair.

Thankfully, he didn't lock the computer, so you could easily access everything. You turned the brightness up and quickly typed in the website, before you even typed in the whole word it came up. You clicked on it, and there it was— that banner, those audios, and a 'edit' button.

Your eyes widened, you always had a feeling that it was him, especially when you heard his voice, but something was telling you that it was too good to be true— this explained everything.

The microphone, why he was persistently trying to get into your insta, why he asked about Soundcloud on your phone, everything was piecing together. You quickly typed instagram on the search bar, praying that it was logged in, and thank goodness it was. You went straight to his dms, a whole bunch of randoms of course, but then you saw it: 'unknown825'. You sat still for a second, staring at your username, clicking on it. You laughed to yourself quietly, you didn't know whether to feel relived, nervous, or...

"It's you, isn't it?" he said from behind you, startling you.

You turned around, heart racing. "I- um-" You stuttered, locking eyes with him, still sitting in the chair as he drifted towards you.

"You know, the first day we met in class I had a feeling it was you, but I didn't wanna jump to conclusions— goodness you looked like you were about to fall apart every time I spoke though, how could I not get suspicious?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Haechan." Your response came out a little less convincing than you thought.

"I tried to get into your insta, but there was nothing. I looked on your computer, nothing as well. Soundcloud? logged out. God you're good at hiding this." He inched closer and closer to you, your breathing getting heavier with every step.

"I couldn't just ask, expose what I do if it wasn't you. You thought the same thing too right, wanted to ask, but you couldn't? You had nothing to lose regardless, but I took you for one of those kind of girls— the kind that acts all innocent in front of everyone, but has a deeper, dirtier secret that you're hiding." His voice was seductive, yet mocking as well, you cant say that it didn't hurt your ego a little to spoken to like a little slut who got caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.

"What, the cat got your tongue? What happened to you being so dominant?" He teased, sitting on his bed next to the chair, grabbing the arm rest and turning you to face him.

"You know, if you're wrong then you look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

You tried to make yourself sound as convincing and possible, tried to make the situation seem like it didn't bother you, but honestly you were a little uptight about it. It's all fun and games when it's on the phone and you could just block each other and not talk ever again, but in person it was so much more.

"There she is, the Y/n I know and love. You know, I've waited for this moment. The moment where you would finally be so fucking desperate to know if it was me, been waiting for you to go through my stuff. You wouldn't do it though, surprisingly, so I just gave you a little push." He smiled, placing his hand on your knee.

You shoved his hand off of you. "What are you talking about, gave me a little push?" You asked, giving him questioning eyes.

"You think I would just keep Soundcloud wide open on my computer Y/n, be serious? I thought you were smarter than that." He smiled cockily, titling his head as you looked deeply into his eyes.

It was a setup. He set this whole thing up to catch you on purpose, and you fell right into his fucking trap.

"You're despicable. You did it, you caught me... now what?" You asked, leaning back in the chair, crossing your arms.

He took a look at the computer that was behind you, pointing to it, prompting you to look. You can't lie and say that you and hcillusion119, well, Haechan didn't do this call thing often, and that's exactly what he was hinting at— the call that took place two days ago.

"Remember what you said we would do if we were together, what you would do to me?" He asked, his sweet, desperate voice melting your brain like ice cream on a hot summer day.

"No Haechan, I don't remember."

Of course, you remembered. How could you forget? Every late night conversation was carved into your mind. Each call felt like an escape, an intimate secret between just the two of you, leaving you aching for more. Now, the weight of his presence made it impossible to deny your own desires. You were curious...no, desperate to know if what you shared over the phone would be even more intoxicating in person.

"Let me remind you... please?" he whined, his voice tugging at something deep within you. He leaned down, his hand trembling slightly as he grabbed yours, guiding it to his cheek. The warmth of his skin sent shivers through your body, and without thinking, your thumb began to gently stroke his face.

His eyes closed as he leaned into your touch, his breath coming out in shaky sighs. "I'll be your good boy." he whispered, barely audible.

Your heart raced, the thrill of finally having him in front of you, not just a voice through a phone but real, and within reach. You could see the way his lips parted slightly, the rise and fall of his chest. It felt good to finally be close, to finally have him like this.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly withdrew your hand from his cheek. His eyes snapping open, filled with need, searching your face as you got up from your seat. His gaze followed you, not wanting to even be an inch away from you.

"Go to the headboard." You murmured softly.

Haechan reacted instantly, rushing to the head of the bed, pressing his back firmly against the headboard. He adjusted his glasses, his lips slightly parted, eyes locked onto yours.

You crawled onto the bed, your movements slow. His breath hitched as you came wanting more, needing you. You reached him, your body hovering just above his, your fingers grazing the side of his face again.

"Tell me," you whispered, leaning in close enough for your breath to ghost over his lips. "what did I say I was gonna do?"

His eyes sparkled, you could see him unraveling, caught in the web of everything you had both imagined during those late nights. You both knew that you imagined each other's faces on those calls after you met in person for the first time, and now it was all a reality.

“You said... you'd make me beg." His voice was a trembling whisper

"So beg me." You whispered, your voice soft, lips brushing against his ear, sending a wave of heat through him.

You felt him tense under your fingertips. His eyes, wide and pleading, locked onto yours with a desperation that made your heart pound. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, voice small, almost a whimper.

You smiled at the sight of him completely undone in front of you. You slowly lifted his glasses up onto his forehead, pushing the messy strands of his hair away from his face. Your fingers lightly grazed his skin, and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.

"That's not how you ask." You teased, your voice low as you leaned in closer, just enough for your lips to brush his, but not meet fully.

He let out a shaky breath, his body trembling with need. "Please... Can I please kiss you Y/n? I need you," he breathed, his voice barely holding together. "I want your lips on mine so bad."

Your smile deepened as you leaned in, teasingly grazing your lips against his again, just barely. His lips parted, waiting for you to close the gap, but you pulled back, watching as frustration and longing flooded his expression. He swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with desire as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"Please." He whispered.

You finally gave in, pressing your lips against his in a heated, passionate kiss. The moment your lips met, it was like something electric passed between you both. The kiss deepened as his lips moved urgently against yours, tongues tangling together as if you were both trying to consume each other, neither wanting to pull away. You melted into him, your body pressing closer.

The kiss broke only when you both needed air, both of you gasping as you parted. Haechan's lips were swollen, his breath shallow, his chest heaving as he stared at you, his eyes filled with lust.

"Can I touch you?" He whispered, his voice needy.

You nodded, your heart racing even faster as he shifted you higher in his lap, his hands trailing slowly, up your sides. His fingers caressed your skin through your clothes and you felt his breath hitch as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin softly at first, then harder.

His lips moved down, sucking and biting gently at your skin, leaving marks. His hands explored your body, grabbing, squeezing, and pulling you closer, his touch growing more possessive with every second. His hips moved beneath you, the friction of his lap against you sending waves of heat pooling in your stomach. You gasped as he rocked you back and forth, grinding you against him.

Small, breathy moans escaped your lips as his mouth moved from your neck, traveling down to your collarbone, where he kissed and nipped at your skin, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips firmly and guiding your movements against him.

"Fuck... feels so good." He whimpered, his voice strained as he broke away from your skin, his head falling back against the headboard. His eyes were half lidded as he watched you move.

Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned, his body reacting to every touch, every movement. His grip on your waist tightened, and you felt him twitch beneath you as he pulled you even closer, his hips bucking up against you.

"God Y/n." He whispered breathlessly, lips finding yours again, the kiss hungry and desperate, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I wanna taste you." He desperately spoke, looking at you with begging eyes.

Your fingers slid through his hair as you watched him, his breath quickening, his hands resting on your hips. He was desperate for your permission.

"I wanna taste you." He repeated. He was looking up at you, his lips parted, pleading. "Please Y/n... I'll make you feel so good, I promise."

You let out a soft hum, your fingers tracing along his jaw, watching as his body visibly tensed, waiting for your response. You could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He was completely under your control, willing to do anything you asked.

"You'll do exactly what I want?" You whispered, your thumb grazing over his cheek as you leaned closer, teasing him with the lightest touch. He swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

"Yes—yes." He breathed, his voice barely holding together. His eyes were wide, shimmering with anticipation, his grip on your hips tightening, almost as if he were afraid you'd pull away. "Please, just let me. I'll make you feel so good Y/n, I swear."

Your lips curved into a small smile as you stroked the side of his head, leaning in just enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath. "Then go ahead baby. Make me feel good."

The moment the words left your mouth, his eyes lit up. Without wasting another second, he gently pushed you onto your back, his hands moving with urgency as he pulled down your pants and underwear in one motion.

He paused for a moment, his gaze locking onto you with awe, like he was seeing something he had dreamed about for far too long. His hands traced along your thighs, and you could feel the faint trembling in his fingers as he spread your legs, positioning himself between them. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of you, his lips parting slightly as he let out a soft exhale, his breath warm against your skin.

"You're... perfect." He murmured, almost to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, his lips brushing your inner thigh, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You could feel his desire, his need to please you.

Slowly, he began kissing his way up your thighs, his lips trailing delicately. Every kiss sent a spark of heat through your body, and you could feel your pulse quicken as he got closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as his breath fanned over your core.

"Fuck..." he groaned, his voice low. You could feel the restraint in his body as he tried to hold himself back. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and you saw nothing but hunger in them.

"You're so beautiful Y/n." He whispered before lowering his head between your legs, finally giving you what you'd been waiting for.

The first touch of his tongue against you was slow, he was savoring the taste of you. He let out a soft moan, the sound vibrating against your skin, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His hands held your thighs apart, his grip possessive but gentle as he worked his tongue in slow, sensual strokes.

"Oh my god." You moaned out, your hands tangling in his hair as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue moving with more urgency now. He flicked his tongue against your clit, earning a gasped out of you, your back arching off the bed as he sucked lightly, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

Haechan groaned against you, the vibrations from his voice adding to the sensation, and you could feel his desperation growing with every second. He was completely lost in you, every lick, every suck more intense than the last. His hands slid up your thighs, holding you steady as he devoured you, his tongue moving faster, more eagerly.

Your breaths came out in shallow gasps, your body trembling beneath his touch, and you could feel the heat building in your core, your stomach tightening with every flick of his tongue.

"Haechan... fuck." You whimpered, your grip tightening in his hair as he continued to work his mouth against you.

"Please Y/n, I want you to come for me." He groaned against your skin, his voice filled with desire. His tongue moved faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "I need you."

You cried out, your entire body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you, your grip tightening in his hair as you rode out your high, legs shaking. Haechan didn't stop, his mouth still working against you, drawing out your orgasm.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips swollen and glistening, his eyes filled with satisfaction as he looked up at you.

"Did I do good?" He asked softly, his voice still breathless, his eyes searching yours.

"Mhm." You hummed, your fingers gently stroking his cheek brushing away a few strands of hair. "You did so good for me."

He smiled in response, leaning in to take your lips into a kiss.

Somehow, it was more passionate than the last. You two devoured each other, tongues tangling, your body heating up as you felt Haechan grind against you, trying to feel some type of friction.

"Fuck, I need to feel you... can I please feel you Y/n?" He whispered, his breath tickling your earlobe.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. "Do you think you deserve it?" You asked teasingly.

His eyes locked onto yours. "I do... please, let me feel you." He pleaded.

You couldn't resist the sincerity in his eyes. With a playful smirk, you gestured for him to adjust, his back pressing against the headboard as anticipation swirled between you.

"If you think you deserve it, then take off your pants." you instructed, your voice firm yet inviting.

His eyes widened like he was in a dream. Without hesitation, he slid down his pants, exposing his readiness to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Of course you're not wearing underwear." You laughed, crawling into his lap, his eyes filled with excitement and shyness.

"You're so fucking dirty." You whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, drawing a soft moan from him as you gave a gentle tug.

His glasses slipped to the bridge of his nose, but he seemed unconcerned, his attention solely on you. Any other time he would've voiced a rebuttal to your comment, but he needed you so bad he couldn't even find the words.

"Please." He murmured desperately.

Slowly, you adjusted yourself, guiding him to your entrance. Both of you moaned as you took him in, inch by inch, until he was fully in you.

He threw his head back against the headboard, overwhelmed by the sensation of your warmth surrounding him as you moved. "Fuck." he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening.

"What, can you not handle it?" You teased.

"I—" He tried to speak before it was cut off by a small moan escaping as you pulled him deeper. "Can I move you?" He asked.

A soft nod was all he needed. His hands found your hips, guiding you, lifting you in a rhythm that soon had him whimpering your name, his movements becoming more desperate as your heat wrapped around him.

He had dreamed of this moment—the chance to feel you, and it was everything he'd imagined and more. "Fuck, feels so good." He whimpered.

His pace quickened, driven by your shared need, each whimper and sigh from you encouraging him to go deeper, faster.

"Fuck Haechan, you're so big." You moaned out, the words shooting straight to his pelvis.

"Are you gonna be good for me and cum?" you whispered into his ear, your words sending a shiver of pleasure through his body.

"Yes, fuck, I'll be good for you." He moaned out, overwhelmed by the sensations pushing him closer to the edge. His glasses fogged with each heated breath.

His movements grew messy, each thrust sending him closer to the edge, you tightening around him.

"Fuck, gonna—cum.” He gasped, his body trembling beneath you.

"Cum for me, I'm almost there." You said, your stomach tightening as he hit your g-spot.

"Feels so good." He whimpered, the feeling of you clenching around him making him go almost insane.

"Fuck— gotta pull out." He could barely get the words out, eyes squeezed shut, he felt dizzy. Even though his mouth said one thing, his hands kept moving you, keeping himself deep inside you.

"It's okay baby, fill me up." You moaned, the permission tipping him over the edge.

"Fuck I'm coming." He let out a choked whimper, finding his release, filling you full of his seed. His hands covered his mouth as he tried to hold in the cries that wanted to be let out.

"Uncover your mouth." You spoke, wanting to hear every precious sound he made, reaching your high shortly after.

His hands fell away, gripping the sheets to ground himself. His moans turned into cries of pleasure as he twitched beneath you, riding out the last waves of pleasure together.

"Shit." You said breathless, exhausted and satisfied, your head resting in the crook of his neck, your shared breath slowing to a gentle rhythm.

"Look at what you do to me." He muttered, obviously still winded.

"Look at what you do to me" You said, gently cupping his face, smiling as you took in the mess you both became—his glasses fogged beyond use.

He smiled lazily, resting his head on the head board as he let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes.

#nct x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct 127 #haechan smut #nct haechan #haechan #nct dream smut #nct dream haechan #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 haechan #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #haechan oneshot #nct haechan smut #nct smut #nct fic

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theminecraftbee · 3 months ago

Text

Grian sits on the edge of a desert cliff, watching the sunrise. His knuckles are bloody. He's had this dream before, and he's lived this moment before. He's awfully tired of it, honestly. He's not even particularly sad anymore. It's hard to be particularly sad, this long after, this much more between them.

But his knuckles are bloody again. There's someone sitting next to him.

"Joel?" he says, baffled.

"Yeah, hi, really weird bloody dreamscape you've got. Literally and figuratively: bloody hell. Like, Scott, he's got this pretty cottage and all these flowers and the single most terrifying version of Jimmy that I've seen in my life. Which serves him right, since he's a bastard, and I told him that. Or, uh, Pearl. She's normal. She's got dogs and... shit, I don't know--"

"Why are you here?" Grian asks.

"Oh, right, I was tasked with asking you if you regret it," Joel says.

There's a long moment of silence. The wind blows.

"I mean. No?" Grian says.

"Right? That's what I said! Blumin' stupid question, that!" Joel says.

"Wait, you mentioned--are you asking everyone that?" Grian asks.

"Yeah! It was all, oh, you've got a car, you can travel, it'll be all poetic like. You've had a 'character arc'--like I'm some, some fake guy--and grown as a person, everyone else has to, would they do things differently now? And I said, man, that's stupid. That's really stupid. But the glowing purple eyes guys--"

"Wait wait wait wait, the who?" Grian interrupts.

"Sorry, do you not know the glowing purple eyes guys? Martyn was acting like you're all buddies or something. Then I punched him. Because it was funny," Joel says.

"No, I know the--they asked you to do this?" Grian says. He takes a moment to try to imagine it. He has some trouble. Joel and the Watchers don't really belong in the same place at the same time for so many reasons that Grian doesn't know where to begin.

"Apparently, I'm not being serious enough," Joel informs Grian. "I kinda get it, actually. Like, everyone but Cleo has been somewhere like..."

Joel looks out over the cliff. It is tall, and Grian knows he cannot see the ground from the top. He had been able to during the actual games, of course, but these aren't the actual games; these are the memories of what brought him to victory, made manifest.

"So I guess I kinda wondered, since you lot always seem so blumin' sad about it," Joel finishes.

"I'm not really," Grian says.

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, maybe once, but--nah. Not really."

"Cool. That's the last one then," Joel says. "Hear that, weird glowing eyes guys? You act like I'm all weird or whatever but none of them regret it either. Not a single one of them."

Grian looks over the cliff again himself.

"None of us?" he asks, very quietly indeed.

Joel sighs. "All of you asked that too. I'm getting back in the bloody car."

Grian doesn't watch Joel leave. He rubs the blood off his knuckles and watches the sky instead. When he's tired thinking in circles about how he didn't really expect that he would be telling the truth, just then, he starts trying to imagine the trouble Joel might be giving everyone else instead. It's much more fun to think about than the sand that's getting in his socks. He's never able to get sand out of anything, these days, and it leaves him always just a little bit uncomfortable. Oh well; the price of being in a desert. He wouldn't be anywhere else if he had the choice, though, grit in his socks or not.

#trafficblr #a bee fic #trafficfic #joel smallishbeans #grian #i... don't know this one went like three different directions #take it. it's sort of character analysis sort of just me being me.#I'M IN A FICLET MOOD I GUESS.

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eclipixels · 2 months ago

Text

Fruit Roll Up

Character: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser, Ryusei Shidou

Content: Blue Lock boys react to you wanting to wrap a fruit roll up around it (semi crack fic, semi smut)

A/N: inspired by this post -@captainshindo

Warnings: mentions of oral sex

Yoichi Isagi

"Wait, hold on—what?"

Isagi blinked at you like you had just suggested kicking a soccer ball all the way to the moon. His brows furrowed; lips slightly parted in sheer bewilderment as he tried to process your words.

"You wanna put a fruit roll up on… where?"

His voice wavered between confusion and mild concern as he sat there, watching you dangle a blue colorful fruit roll up between your fingers like it was some kind of forbidden delicacy. You grinned, leaning in a little closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Come on, Ichi, just trust me on this."

"I mean, sure, I guess. But why?" He shifted awkwardly, fingers twitching against his knee as a flush crept up his neck. His usual composure, the razor-sharp focus he had on the field, seemed to crumble under the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“Because I wanna try it out,” you said, pouting just enough to make it almost impossible for him to say no.

His shoulders sagged in surrender, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "If it makes you happy, then—ah! Ohhh, fuck—”

You didn’t even let him finish his sentence before jumping at the opportunity. A victorious grin spread across your face as you reached forward, determination shining in your eyes.

“See? Not such a bad idea, huh?” you mused as you got to work.

Isagi sucked in a sharp breath, throwing his head back with an unexpected hum. His fingers twitched against his sides as if resisting the urge to swat your hands away, but he didn’t. His eyes fluttered shut for a second before peeking at you, filled with a mix of trepidation and intrigue.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" His voice came out breathless, slightly strained.

You tilted your head, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "Maybe a little."

"As long as you’re happy," he muttered, exhaling through his nose. His ears were burning red, and he refused to meet your gaze, probably regretting every decision that led him to this moment. And yet, he didn’t stop you.

There was something about seeing Isagi, usually so confident and competitive, now reduced to a flustered mess over something so ridiculously simple. The contrast was almost too much to handle.

"Okay, okay," you giggled, finally pulling back slightly. "What do you think? Rate the experience."

Isagi blinked at you, lips parted like he was still buffering. Then, after a long pause, he swallowed thickly.

"Honestly?" He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting anywhere but at you. "Kinda… weird. But not bad. Like, I didn't think it would work, but now—uh." His sentence trailed off as he looked at you again, expression unreadable.

You smirked, tilting your head. "Go on."

"You might be onto something," he admitted begrudgingly, shifting slightly under your gaze. "But if you tell anyone about this, I swear—"

You snorted, reaching over to poke his cheek. "Relax, Ichi. I don’t tell anyone about anything we do in the bedroom"

"Alright, good. So, uh..." He trailed off, eyes locked onto you with anticipation. You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head, waiting for him to continue.

His cheeks flushed as he hesitated before mumbling, "Are you gonna finish?"

A smirk played on your lips. "You want me to?"

"...Yes, please," he admitted, almost shyly.

And that was all the confirmation you needed before putting him back in your mouth and getting to work.

Meguru Bachira

"Oh-ho-ho~? You absolute freak, I love it!" Bachira clapped his hands together, eyes gleaming with mischief like a goblin who had just discovered a new way to cause mayhem. He leaned in closer, watching you with rapt attention.

You pulled out the fruit roll up, mango pineapple flavored and got to work wrapping it around Bachira’s dick.

"Wait, wait, wait—you’re actually doing this? Oh, this is gonna be amazing." His excitement was borderline unhinged, his energy bouncing all over the place as he perched on the edge of his seat, barely able to contain himself.

You didn’t expect him to be this excited. You were actually unsure of how he’d react to your request but this was better than you expected. Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing though because before you even got to put your mouth on it, he was swirling out ideas.

"What’s next, huh? Should we go full dessert mode? Whipped cream? Chocolate drizzle? No? Tch, you’re no fun," he teased, shaking his head dramatically before perking right back up. "Fine, fine! Just fruit rolls ups… for now"

As you rolled your eyes and continued, Bachira, of course, had to make things weirder. He started making airplane noises, rocking side to side like a child hyped up on sugar. "Choo-choo! Here comes the flavor train! Next stop: Meguru’s curiosity!"

You shot him a look, exasperated. "Are you seriously narrating this?"

"Of course! This is a historic moment!" he declared, placing a dramatic hand over his heart.

His laughter bubbled up as he watched you, his gaze filled with that signature mix of chaotic excitement and genuine affection. "Y’know, I gotta say," he mused, tilting his head, "I love the way your brain works. Completely unhinged. Just my type."

His endless enthusiasm made it impossible not to laugh. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you love it," he shot back, beaming.

“Oh–oh! Oh this is… this is better than I was expecting~” Bachira moaned as you put his fruit roll up covered cock all the way into your mouth.

“Yeah?” You hummed, the vibrations from your words contributing to his pleasure

“Oh yeah, please, don’t stop.” He shut his eyes, his hands finding their way to your hair, entangling themselves in it.

At the end of the day, Bachira was a whirlwind of chaos and sugar who made everything twice as fun, just by being himself. And oh how you loved him for it.

Hyoma Chigiri

Chigiri stared at you, utterly unimpressed. His crimson eyes flickered with disbelief as he took in your suggestion, arms crossed in a way that made him look like a prince being subjected to absolute nonsense. "You could have literally suggested anything else," he said, voice as flat as ever, "anything, and you went with fruit roll-ups?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, pinching the bridge of it like this was giving him an actual migraine. "This has to be some weird diet trend I don’t know about," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Not a diet," you corrected with a grin. "Just an experience."

Chigiri gave you the most deadpan stare imaginable, like he was seriously reconsidering every life choice that had led him to this moment. But despite his apparent suffering, you could see the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips, threatening to betray him.

After a few more seconds of dramatic silence, he sighed in surrender. "Fine," he relented, shifting his weight like a reluctant aristocrat about to partake in the peasantry. "But just this once. And don’t—" he paused, fixing you with a sharp gaze, "—get any on my sheets. I don’t want ants."

You snorted. "That’s what you’re worried about?"

"Obviously," he replied smoothly, flicking his silky, shiny hair over his shoulder like this was just another day of dealing with absolute chaos.

You rolled your eyes, but he wasn’t done. "And if this ends up being terrible," he continued, narrowing his gaze, "you owe me. Big time."

"Deal," you chirped, already enjoying how much this was ruffling his usually composed demeanor.

As you prepared everything, Chigiri watched you like a hawk—arms crossed, gaze sharp, still looking vaguely offended by the entire ordeal. Yet, despite all his protests, there was no missing the curiosity lurking beneath his exasperation.

He was trying way too hard to act like he wasn’t at least a little intrigued.

And that was exactly why you loved messing with him.

“What’s taking so l-” Before he could finish, you had him in your mouth. He froze for a moment, shocked, but quickly relaxed, melting like putty as you continued, savoring each movement as you slurped him up like a slushie.

“D-don’t stop,” he groaned, eyes squeezed shut, clearly enjoying the experience.

“I’m taking this is going well, and that I won’t have to owe you?” you asked, pulling away. You noticed the disappointed look on his face when you stopped.

“We’re not finished yet. I’ll let you know when we’re done,” he replied, his frown deepening.

“Sounds to me like you’re hoping I’ll keep going,” you teased. “but, you don’t have to tell me twice”

Rin Itoshi

Rin took one look at the fruit roll-ups in your hands, then glanced at you, and without missing a beat, he immediately turned on his heel and started walking away. "No."

You blinked, staring after him. "No? Why not?"

He didn’t even slow down as he walked away, his voice barely turning back to address you. "Because you’re insane."

You gasped dramatically, hand on your chest. "Excuse me?"

Rin rubbed his temples like he could already feel a headache forming. "Find someone else to entertain your sugar-fueled delusions," he called over his shoulder, completely unimpressed.

You stood there, staring at his retreating form, half frustrated and half amused by his complete lack of enthusiasm for your idea.

He came back five minutes later out of pure curiosity.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, arms crossed, watching you with that look like he was contemplating whether he was about to make the worst decision of his life.

"How set are you on this," he began with a sigh, his tone reluctant.

“Very.”

"This is a terrible idea." But despite his words, there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips, and his eyes had softened ever so slightly. Yet, he still walked back into the room, eyeing the way you were on your knees.

You grinned, clearly winning this battle.

"Fine." He rolled his eyes, "I’ll humor you. But, this doesn’t mean I’m into this food fetish thing you got going on"

You could tell he was trying his best to seem unaffected by the ridiculousness of it all, but there was no hiding the faint interest in his eyes as he watched you get to work.

"One condition," Rin added, stepping a little closer now, as if finally accepting that he was going to be involved in whatever you were planning.

You raised an eyebrow. "What’s that?"

"Don’t make it weird," his eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to guard himself against whatever might come next.

You leaned in with a grin. "No promises."

Seishiro Nagi

There was only the faintest hint of interest in his eyes as he leaned back on the pillows. He barely even moved, perfectly embodying the phrase ‘no thoughts, just vibes.’

As you started preparing your… unique setup, Nagi just lounged there, sprawled out like a cat in the sun. He didn't have any objections, nor did he offer much in the way of encouragement. He simply watched, not bothered enough to care.

"Seriously? You’re just letting me do this?" you asked.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he stifled a yawn. His voice was so devoid of energy that it was impossible to tell if he was bored or just entertained by how over-the-top you were being.

You kept going, not letting his disinterest stop you. After all, this was Nagi, his lack of reaction was practically a sign that you were doing something right.

The only time Nagi actually stirred was when a stray piece of the fruit roll up fell on his stomach, just within his reach. Without even opening his eyes, he lazily reached for it, grabbed it, and popped it into his mouth with zero fanfare.

"Huh. Tasty," he muttered, completely unfazed. He didn’t even bother elaborating or making a face.

"You’re so weird," you said, shaking your head, but secretly enjoying the way he just went with it.

"Says you," Nagi scoffed with a lazy grin, his eyes flicking over to you briefly.

"That’s why you love me." you smiled before taking him in, enjoying the way the fruit roll up melted in your mouth against the heat of your warm tongue. Nagi hissed at the feeling, giving you the first reaction of this whole ordeal.

“How does it feel?” You asked, pulling away to wipe the drool off your lips.

“Feels like…” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Like you should keep going.”

Reo Mikage

Reo nearly choked on air when you casually dropped the suggestion, his entire body stiffening in surprise. "Excuse me—what?" he managed, his voice high and incredulous. You, on the other hand, were entirely unphased, raising an eyebrow at his dramatic reaction.

"Fruit. Roll. Ups." you said slowly, as if that explained everything.

"I heard you. I just… why?" Reo blinked several times, mouth hanging open as he tried to process what you’d just said. He reached for his glass of water, clearly trying to calm himself down, but it only served to make the situation worse. He buried his face in his hands with a long, exasperated sigh, as if he was somehow both embarrassed and horrified.

"I swear, this is why rich people get accused of having weird kinks," he muttered, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands.

You smirked, leaning back casually, clearly enjoying the sight of his spiraling. "Well, you know what they say, if the shoe fits," you teased.

"I don’t even know where to begin with this suggestion."

You shrugged, nonchalant as ever. "It’s simple. Fruit Roll-Ups. You wrap it around things. You eat it. End of story."

"I—" He stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was trying to stave off a headache. His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, his usual grace and composure slipping for just a moment. "Why Fruit Roll-Ups of all things? Why not… I don’t know, something normal like chocolate or honey or strawberries or—anything that makes sense?"

"Why not?" you countered with a teasing grin. "It’s fun, it’s colorful, it’s sugary. What’s not to love?"

"I… I just can’t believe you’re serious about this." He leaned back in his chair.

"Come on, Reo," you prodded, trying not to laugh at his genuine discomfort. "What’s the worst that could happen?”

“It’s just weird, alright?”

"I mean, it’s not like you have to do it, but…" You paused for effect, watching his every move.

He let out a dramatic groan, the sound of someone utterly defeated. "I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?"

"Maybe," you teased, enjoying the drama unfolding before you. "But isn’t that what makes it fun?"

“This is fun to you?”

"You’re right," you said with a playful grin. "I should’ve suggested something weirder. Like… jelly beans and pickles."

His eyes went wide. "No! Absolutely not! I have some standards, okay? My dick isn’t some candy buffet, Y/n, damn.”"

“Aw, man.” You pouted, pretending to be disappointed.

"You’re insane. But fine," he said after a beat, finally giving in, his voice resigned. "If this is what you want, I’ll play along, but just so you know, I will be silently judging you this whole time."

You raised an eyebrow. "Judging me? Oh please, I’m gonna make you a mess under me.”

The thought sent a shiver down Reo’s body. He was getting mad at himself from how turned on he was starting to get. "Whatever. Let’s just get this over with— JESUS CHRIST WOMAN, YOU COULD’VE GAVE ME A WARNING.”

Yeah, he came three times.

Sae Itoshi

Sae just stared at you. Then at the fruit roll up. Then back at you.

"You need therapy."

“Sae, what the hell.” You gasp.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by your silent, almost eager stare. “You’re weird,” he muttered, a little edge to his tone. “Why would I let you do that?”

You shrugged innocently, feeling a little giddy, “I just think it would be fun.”

You leaned in just a bit, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, Sae. Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

His gaze flickered to the fruit roll-up again, then back to your face, his expression still unreadable. “You need serious help.”

You simply frowned, the corners of your mouth turning down with a playful defiance. “You’re not going to let me? Really?”

"No." He replied, his voice steady and unbothered, almost too simple.

"Saeee..." You stretched his name out dramatically, your eyes wide with pleading. "Please?"

He raised an eyebrow, his expression resigned. "What kind of pleasure do you get from this, other than tormenting me?"

"It’ll be fun, I swear," you insisted with a hopeful grin.

He shook his head, sighing deeply as though he couldn’t believe the words coming from your mouth. "This isn’t fun, Y/n. This is odd. You’re odd. I’ve already said no, so stop asking."

Defeated, you let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping in exaggerated disappointment. Slowly, you walked off to put the box of fruit roll-ups back, doing your best to suppress the letdown you were feeling.

Later that day, you were sitting on the couch, sulking a little, when you heard the familiar shuffle of his footsteps. Surprised, you looked up to see him standing in front of you, a box of fruit roll-ups in hand. He refused to make eye contact, simply shoving the box into your hands without a word.

You blinked at him, completely caught off guard. "What’s this?"

He grumbled, his voice almost a growl. "Fine. You can do it."

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. "Really? What made you change your mind?"

He rolled his eyes, clearly irritated but unable to hide the hint of frustration beneath his words. "Does it even matter? Just... let’s get this over with before I change my mind again."

"Okay! Yippie!" You exclaimed.

Without wasting a second, you leapt up from the couch, your excitement bubbling over. You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug, planting kisses all over his face in a flurry of joy before dragging him to the bedroom to give him the most toe-tingling, sheet-gripping, jaw-breaking blow job of his entire life all with his dick wrapped in a fruit roll up.

Michael Kaiser

“What’s… this?” Kaiser asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and slight confusion as he watched you settle comfortably between his legs, unwrapping a brightly colored fruit roll-up.

You gave him a nonchalant glance, still focused on your task. “A fruit roll-up,” you answered simply, as though the answer was obvious.

He didn’t even flinch as you casually unzipped his pants, a move that was second nature between the two of you. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness. You had an unspoken understanding, a rhythm that allowed such actions to be taken without question. You both made sure to check in with each other, confirming mutual comfort and consent, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious when you did.

Kaiser eyed you intenty, his gaze flickering between your hands and your face, the curiosity and interest clear in his expression. It wasn’t often that he had to wonder about your next move.

“I can see that,” he murmured, the hint of a smile playing on his lips, though his eyes narrowed in on you. “But what exactly are you doing?”

“I’m wrapping it around your dick while I suck you off.” You say casualy.

“What?” He looked at you like you were insane. “The fuck?”

You threw a Fruit Roll-Up at his face, the candy whizzing through the air and slapping against his cheek with an audible squelch.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by it, his expression shifting to one of disbelief as he slowly peeled the sticky fruit snack off his skin. “The hell? What’d you do that for?” he frowned, his voice laced with confusion.

“You talk too much,” you said, your tone cool. “Just let me suck you off with a fruit roll up around it.”

Kaiser’s eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flashing in them. “I never said yes,” he replied, his voice steady, though there was a hint of challenge beneath it.

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “You never said no,”

Kaiser chuckled, the deep sound of amusement escaping him. “You're a strange one, aren’t you?” He smirked, resting his chin in his hand, eyes glinting with something that bordered between mischief and intrigue. “But I like strange. It keeps things interesting."

He leaned forward slightly, making the moment feel far more dramatic than it had any right to be. He seemed to take your little silly idea and blow it up, turning it into some high-class, avant-garde experience, as if he were about to set the stage for a grand performance.

“If we’re doing this,” he grabbed your chin, tilting your face to have your gaze meet his, “we do it my way.”

Ryusei Shidou

Shidou didn’t hesitate. His excitement was instant and electric, the mischievous gleam in his eyes only growing as he took a step toward you, rubbing his hands together like a mad scientist about to unveil his latest, chaotic experiment.

“Fuck yeah! Let’s get weird!” he cheered, his voice booming with confidence.

You blinked at him, barely processing his enthusiasm, but the way he immediately dove into brainstorming ideas made you grin despite yourself. Shidou was never one to shy away from insane shit like this.

“What if we melt chocolate on it? Or dip it in Red Bull? OOH, what if we—”

“Ryu, no,” you cut him off, shaking your head, but even as you spoke, you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the possibilities were. Chocolate and Red Bull? He was serious about it too, you could see it in his eyes.

“Ryu, yes.” He pushed back.

His unwavering energy propelling him into territory you weren’t even sure you’d signed up for. A fruit roll-up was one thing, but now, the absurd ideas were starting to sound less like wild jokes and more like they could actually happen.

“Just imagine, Y/n. We could put gummy bears on it. Or maybe marshmallows. Maple syrup. Do you even know how good that would be?”

You stared at him, trying to process the combination of ingredients he was suggesting. The thought alone made your stomach do the thing (your pancreas crying from that diabetic nightmare), but for some reason, you could almost see it working. You did like those snacks,

But still, you had to draw a line somewhere.

“Red bull? Isn’t that a little... too much? Like, even for you?”

Shidou’s face lit up like a lightbulb. “Not enough,” he said matter-of-factly, throwing his arms wide in dramatic flair. “It needs to be bold, right? We’re talking flavor explosion. This isn’t a snack, it’s a masterpiece.”

“Let’s just start with the fruit roll-up, we’ll think about the other stuff after.”

Shidou looked disappointed for all of two seconds before a devilish grin crossed his face again. “Deal. But just so you know, you’ve opened Pandora’s box. I’m not responsible for where this goes.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. The man was practically salivating over the idea of you giving him blowjobs with various snacks on his dick.

You unwrapped the fruit roll-up slowly, the shiny, sticky paper catching the light. Shidou purred at the sight of your delicate hands working so meticulously into wrapping it around his throbbing cock. You looked so pretty, all concentrated as you did the strangest things with him. That’s why he loved you, you matched his freak.

By the time it was all over, Shidou had somehow convinced you to incorporate donuts, bagels, whipped cream, honey, and even the gummy worms he so desperately wanted you to use. When the chaos finally settled, your throat ached, your stomach full, and your face was a mess—covered in a mix of food crumbs, sugar, and the remnants of his sweet, milky cum.

#bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you

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redflagshipwriter · 9 months ago

Text

Fast Car Chapter Two (of four)

masterpost

Was this guy for real? Jason nearly decided not to get in out of suspicion. Danny was one of the very few loose ends in his crime yesterday. He sort of figured that eventually Batman would find the driver he’d used to get a duffle bag of heads to the police station. He stalled. It had seemed like an acceptable risk, since he hadn’t shown the guy his face. The only information that the police should have been able to get was where he’d left and that he’d used one of his victim’s phones to call for a ride.

And yet Danny was waiting patiently at the curb for the Red Hood to get in. Wasn’t he scared?

He had been all over the news yesterday. Danny had to know.

‘Either he’s dumb as a box or he is one of the chillest people I’ve ever even heard of.’

Morbid curiosity got him into the car. Danny locked the door as soon as the door was shut– but it was clearly routine. He’d done that yesterday, right. Jason waited a moment before he remembered that Danny wasn’t going to pull out until he had his seatbelt on. He let out a laugh and buckled up. It was pretty cute, actually.

Now that he wasn’t so distracted, maybe he could make small talk. Danny pulled them out into the sparse early morning traffic with an expression of determined focus.

Jason cleared his throat. “You moved to Gotham recently?” he started with. Danny didn’t have the local speaking pattern.

Danny nodded. “For school,” he shared easily. “I’m in the sciences program at Gotham U’s south campus.”

…So he wasn’t the world’s biggest dummy. Jason sat there and contemplated how catastrophically chill a body would have to be to chit chat with a man who had killed like 20 people yesterday that he knew of. Why wasn’t Danny scared? What was his damage?

‘There’s something really wrong with him,’ Jason thought, with no small bit of admiration. Way too late he commented, “That’s cool, man.”

“Thanks.” Danny seemed unbothered by his long delay in conversation. “You know, I had to go to that same police station this morning.”

Jason tensed. Was Danny making some kind of threat?

“They got a whole shitton of muffins and six quiches delivered,” Danny went on. He appeared to feel no sense of danger in the car.

‘Is he… Did he decide to inform on the police to me?’ Jason’s eye twitched. ‘I already knew that I’d have ruined their whole month but… This is kinda satisfying to hear, actually.’ He made a listening sound to prompt Danny to continue. He couldn't lie; he was intrigued.

“Yeah, they looked like total shit.” Danny was so blithe about it that it became surreal and hilarious. “Exhausted. But that’s not my business.” He crinkled up his nose. “Do you know what they tipped me for that?” He didn’t wait for Jason to go on. “Two dollars.” He made a big gesture with his left hand that took it off the steering wheel despite the fact they were mid turn. “That’s ridiculous! I drove halfway across town, waited for the place to open, carried an absurd amount up those stairs, and for two dollars.” He blew a disrespectful raspberry.

“Fuck the police,” Jason said sympathetically.

Aight. He saw how it was. He mentally tabulated what was in his wallet and allocated a cool thirty dollars to Danny as a tip. For an informant, that was as cheap as bagged rice. Helluva value. He leaned back in the seat and it squeaked under his weight. “How’s Gotham been treating you?”

“Fine, fine,” Danny said absently. He switched lanes a little too abruptly. “Not that different from home, honestly. I don’t know why people are so dramatic about it.” He floored it to squeak through a yellow light.

Jason had the dawning suspicion that Danny had been on his best driving behavior yesterday. But- “Where is home?” It was more morbid curiosity. He kind of regretted that he was nearly to his stop.

“Amity Park. Illinois.”

Jason winced. “My condolences.”

Danny laughed, high and sort of eerie now that Jason was really listening to it. It sent an electric zing up his spine. “That’s what they always say.” He seemed to find it really funny. Way funnier than it should have been.

‘...What are the odds that this guy is one of the weird mutants they make in Amity?’ Jason resisted the urge to ask prying questions. Talia had told him to stay the fuck out of that area so that she didn’t have to rescue him from a government black site. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t have the luxury of the time to go and investigate every cute boy with a nice laugh who wanted to be an informant to the Red Hood.

It was with extreme regret that Jason recognized his stop coming up. He let out a sigh. The voice scramblers in his hood turned it to static. He watched the curb approach with disappointment. Danny made to pull in next to a dark shop. Jason glanced into the windows and caught the reflection of the last person he wanted to see.

“Batmobile.” He sat up straight, alarmed. It was parked out of sight in an alley. Shit. Shit, of course Batman had tracked back the delivery driver that had brought him to the police building. Fuck. How was he going to get away on foot-

Danny jerked back into the street and hit the pedal to the floor. The engine made a scream of machine fear but holy hell did it accelerate. Jason yelled too and grabbed onto the door handle. He aimed wide eyes at Danny, uncomprehending.

“Fuck Batman!” Danny yelled out his open window, and they were off.

Holy shit. Holy shit!

The batmobile turned on, the normally silent engine’s purr rearing up to a threatening growl as Bruce veered out onto the street in pursuit.

Danny took them down an alley and Jason sharply readjusted his assessment of Danny’s intelligence. “We can’t fit!” He yelled, trying to pull the brake. If they had to stop in the alley it was all over, Batman would block them off.

Danny slapped his hand away and barreled-

Jason blinked as they raced down the impossibly narrow alleyway. He bit his lip. He looked at the car again, recalculating.

No. No, it definitely didn’t fit. He leaned a little away from the window, extremely uncomfortable. He looked at just the right time to see the passenger mirror collide with a dumpster and slide through undeterred.

Ah. Alright, then. He made a “Fair enough” face and turned around to see that the batmobile was lifting up and doing some weird transformers bullshit to fit down the alleyway. They were gaining ground from Batman. “Sorry I tried to touch the controls,” Jason said, a bit late. He glanced down and realized that his hand stung where Danny had slapped it. He pulled it to his chest and rubbed at it, frowning slightly.

“No worries,” Danny said tersely. He hit the breaks and raked the wheel car to make a fucking pinpoint turn without slowing. Just like that, they were out of Batman’s direct line of sight. A solid inch of the inside of the car overlapped with a folding chair outside someone’s home.

Jason eyed Danny judgmentally.

“Wow, that was a close fit,” Danny said, extremely unconvincing. “We are lucky, huh.” He aimed the car at a wall and somehow ramped up.

‘I think I might be sick.’

Jason decided that the best thing for him to do right now was to close his eyes and say nothing at all. If Danny wanted plausible deniability for his mutant powers, that was whatever.

‘How did Batman know where I was going?’ He worked through the problem. ‘Did he hack Danny’s account? If not, someone sold me out.’

Just like that, Jason had a list of people to visit for the day. “D’you think you could drop me off at C street instead?” He felt the uncomfortable swooping sensation in his stomach that indicated they’d made some kind of move that should not exist off of a rollercoaster.

“Yeah, of course, sorry about this.” Danny sounded a little breathless. “Ah- don’t look.” He cackled.

…’He’s dodging Batman for his benefit, not mine,’ the penny dropped. Jason laughed out loud and then leaned forward to hold his head in his hands. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Danny was the perfect man. They drove for a while in silence before Jason managed to collect himself. “No worries,” he said through tears. “Hey, no sweat if it’s no, but can I get your number?”

Danny paused.

Oh, fuck. Jason cringed. “I'll leave mine and you can call me if you ever need me,” he corrected hastily. “No pressure.” He scribbled it on the back of a loose receipt in Danny's cupholder and left it, mortified but also glad he shot his shot.

#red fast car #dead on main #dp x dc #dc x dp

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justarkive · 1 month ago

Text

TABLE 3 | JJK ch10

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

warnings: SMUT, super emotion heavy chapter, Jungkook is selfish as hell. oc starts getting sus, super domestic shit, field date, profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol! , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity, alc consumption, jk cant stop thinking of his enlistment :((

smut warnings: THEY FINALLY FUCK!! protected sex, dry humping, nipple play, deepthroating, oral f + m receiving, missionary, doggy, reverse cowgirl but like her back is on his chest??, spanking, clit rubbing, clit spanking, idk guys its kinda nasty. BIG DICK JUNGKOOK DUH, oc cries during sex, its too big </3 oc is slightly tipsy but not enough to cloud her judgement.

wc: long.

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92

a/n: it took me a little while to get this chapter out so i apologise but its here!! they finally fuck. jungkook is honestly a dick for what hes doing atm but they are so so sosisisoss cuteeeee aaaa!! im not the best at writing smut as you can tell from this probably and my other chapters, but enjoy ;) and as always thank you for reading and lmk what u think!

masterlist < prev | next >

You wake up feeling wrecked.

Like, full-on regretting every life decision that led you to staying on the phone with Jeon Jungkook until 5 a.m. Your eyelids feel like they’re weighted blankets on your eyes, your body refuses to cooperate, and your brain is running on fumes.

Still, you blindly reach for your phone, squinting at the screen. There’s a text waiting for you.

Jungkook: good morning:)

Jungkook: don’t even argue. im picking u up at 8 tonight.

You blink. Once. Twice. But the messages stays the exact same.

You: ??

You: good morning

You: Where are we going??

You: jungkooookkk

You: Hello????

Nothing. No reply.

This man is actually impossible.

You groan, dragging yourself out of bed, already knowing today is going to be a struggle. After a quick omw text to Nari, you somehow get to work. The usual chaos, the usual weird customers, the usual banter with Nari. Nothing out of the ordinary—except for the fact that the hours feel endless.

By the time you finally get home, you’re exhausted, but there’s no time to rest.

Because, of course, Nari is already on your ass.

“Oh my god, why the hell are you moving like a grandma?” she yells, yanking you into the bathroom. “You need to shower, like, now.”

“I just got home—”

“And Jungkook is going to be here in an hour, meaning you have maybe 30 minutes to get ready before the inevitable breakdown over what to wear. Go.”

You grumble but obey, stepping into the shower. The warm water is a blessing, and you end up standing under the spray for way too long, completely losing track of time.

Bad move.

Because when you finally step out, towel wrapped around you, you’re met with Nari’s wild eyes and a frantic, “You have five minutes before Jungkook gets here—”

Cue full-on chaos.

Nari is aggressively blow-drying your hair while you rush through your makeup, both of you talking over each other.

“Why are you taking so long—”

“I lost track of time—”

“You literally always do this—”

“Okay, but you’re not helping—”

The real panic sets in when it’s time to pick an outfit.

“What is he wearing?” you demand, rifling through your closet.

“I don’t know,” Nari replies. “How am i supposed to know?”

You pull out a dress. “This?”

“Too fancy.”

A hoodie. “This?”

“Too casual.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

Just as you’re debating throwing on pajamas and giving up entirely, theres a soft knock on the door which you dont particularly notice, too busy rummaging through your closet.

“NO!” Nari practically lunges out of your room for the door, blocking you from going anywhere near it. Opening it unimpressed, seeing Jungkook smug as ever.

“Do not let her know you’re here,” she hisses. “She will lose her shit. Be a gentleman, Jungkook. Wait.”

You frown, shouting from the bedroom. “Who are you talking to?!”

“Um. Myself!”

Suspicious. But you’re too distracted to question it.

Finally, you throw on something casual but cute—jeans and a sweater, safe and simple.

Nari peeks back to where your room is, then finally lets Jungkook in. “Okay, you’re good.”

You turn and leave your room, expecting him to have just arrived—only to find him standing there, looking way too nice. You freeze.

He’s in a button-up.

A fitted one. With nice pants. And his hair is styled in that annoyingly perfect way that makes him look effortlessly cool.

“…Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

His brows furrow. “Like what?”

“Like—like we’re going to a five-star restaurant.”

Jungkook blinks. Then shrugs, completely unfazed. “Didn’t know what you’d wear, so I played it safe.”

Panic sets in all over again.

“I need to change—”

“You look beautiful.”

“No, no, no, I can’t be underdressed while you look like that.”

Jungkook sighs. “You’re really gonna—”

“Yes.” You’re already bolting to your room. “Give me two minutes.”

Nari watches the scene unfold like it’s her favorite reality show. As soon as you disappear, she turns to Jungkook, arms crossed.

“By the way. Where are you actually taking her?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “A field.”

Nari stares. Confused, but trusts him anyway.

“A field.”

“…Yeah.”

“Jungkook, you dressed up this much to take her to a field?”

He shrugs again, completely unbothered. “Didn’t want to give it away. And it’s special, promise.”

Nari presses her fingers to her temples. “You realize she’s about to come out looking way too nice for a field, right?”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change. “Yeah.”

“…And you’re not gonna warn her?”

“Nope. It’ll be fitting.”

Nari groans, but ultimately just sighs. “Fine. But at least tell her to change out of her heels before you leave, or I’m gonna feel guilty.”

Jungkook smirks. “Deal.”

Two minutes later, you finally emerge, having swapped your casual outfit for something much dressier. Jungkook just smiles, saying nothing.

And as he leads you out the door, you have no idea you’re about to be wildly overdressed for a field.

You give Nari a kiss on the cheek goodbye, her giving you the usual playful warning of not doing anything stupid before you lock the door behind you and let Jungkook lead you to the car.

The warmth of Jungkook’s hand around yours startles you at first. Not because it’s unfamiliar, but because of how effortless it feels. There’s no hesitation in the way he intertwines your fingers with his, no anxious glances over his shoulder like he’s worried about being seen. It’s easy—too easy—and you’re not sure what to make of it. Something’s changed. Something’s made him suddenly not care.

Still, you don’t say anything.

He leads you toward the car, your steps falling in sync with his, and even as he lets go to open the passenger door for you, the absence of his touch lingers. You slip inside, settling into the seat as he rounds the front and slides in beside you.

“Where are we going?” you ask immediately, twisting to face him.

Jungkook merely smirks, hands steady on the wheel as he starts the engine. “Not telling.”

You huff. “Why not?”

“Because,” he hums, shifting gears before pulling out onto the road, “it’s a surprise.”

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I hate surprises.”

“No, you don’t.” He grins, eyes flickering to yours briefly before returning to the road. “Patience, baby.”

The word slips from his lips so naturally, so effortlessly, that it catches you off guard. Your heart skips, but you force yourself to ignore it, focusing instead on the scenery passing outside the window.

The drive is quiet, but comfortable. Every now and then, you steal a glance at him—the way his hands grip the wheel, the sharp cut of his jawline, the soft curve of his lips as he hums under his breath.

It’s when you’re stopped at a red light that he catches you staring. Again.

His head turns slightly, and your eyes meet, his gaze dark and knowing. The corner of his mouth tugs up in amusement, but he doesn’t say anything—just watches you, lets the moment stretch between you until the light changes and he’s forced to look away.

Your face burns as you quickly avert your gaze, clearing your throat.

You swear you hear him chuckle.

By the time you finally arrive, you’re still mildly flustered. But the confusion quickly overtakes that feeling when you see the sign for the park, the open field stretching ahead.

You blink. “Wait—why are we at a park?”

Jungkook cuts the engine, then turns to you with a soft smile. “Trust me.”

You stare at him for a second longer before sighing. “Fine.”

Again, he reaches for your hand, pulling you along with ease as you step out of the car and onto the grassy path. The air is warm, tinged with the soft scent of wildflowers, and the sky is painted in hues of pink and gold, the sun dipping just below the horizon.

It’s beautiful.

And then you see it.

A blanket spread neatly across the grass, fairy lights strung up in the nearby trees, twinkling just faintly against the evening light. There’s a small picnic set up, a couple of bottles of wine and an array of food that—upon closer inspection—looks like it was ordered from a high-end restaurant.

You turn to Jungkook, raising an eyebrow. “You seriously made me dress up for a field?”

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “Would you rather I took you to a fancy restaurant?”

You pause, glancing back at the setup. “No… This is perfect.”

And it is. It’s simple and intimate and feels like something entirely Jungkook—something that’s just for the two of you.

You settle down onto the blanket beside him, letting yourself take it all in. The quiet hum of crickets in the distance, the soft glow of the fairy lights, the way Jungkook sits beside you, one leg bent, the other stretched out, his gaze set on the sky.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then, finally, he does.

“The reason I brought you here,” he starts, voice quiet, “is because nobody really knows about this spot.” He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It’s where I’ve always gone to calm down. After work, practice, tours—whenever things got too much.”

You turn to look at him, his features bathed in soft orange light.

“And I felt like you belonged in it,” he continues, finally meeting your gaze. “With me.”

Your breath catches.

And just like that, it’s no longer just a field. It’s his safe place. And now, it’s yours too.

The warm hues of the sunset had long faded into deeper shades of indigo, the sky now dotted with the first few stars peeking through the velvety dusk. The fairy lights strung up around the backyard glowed softly, casting a golden shimmer over the remnants of dinner. Plates pushed aside, your wine glass half-full, and the gentle hum of night settled around the two of you like a comforting embrace. The food is long gone, but the night is still young.

Jungkook, who had spent the last few minutes idly running his fingers along the rim of his water bottle, suddenly cleared his throat. “Okay, don’t laugh,” he started, reaching down beside his chair, “but I saw this thing online, and I thought it might be fun.”

You raised a curious brow as he pulled out a canvas, still blank, resting it carefully on the blanket between you. “Painting?” you mused, tilting your head.

“Not just painting,” he corrected, shifting in his place as if suddenly second-guessing himself. “It’s this thing where, like, one person starts a painting, then passes it to their partner, and they add something to it. And you just keep passing it back and forth until it’s finished. Thought it’d be nice if we tried it.”

The idea was so… him. Thoughtful, sentimental. Something that would leave behind a memory you could actually see, touch. Your heart swelled at the simplicity of it, the sweetness.

“You think of everything, don’t you?” you murmured, reaching over to take his hand, squeezing it softly.

His ears pinked, but he tried to brush it off with a casual shrug. “I just—thought it’d be nice. To make something together.”

You traced your fingers over the smooth surface of the canvas, something bubbling inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. A nostalgia, a fondness for something you’d once loved.

“I used to paint a lot,” you admitted, eyes flickering up to him. “When I was younger. But life got busy, and I kind of just… stopped.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “No way. You never told me that.”

You smiled, a little wistfully. “I guess I forgot. Or maybe I just didn’t think about it much anymore.”

He hummed, thoughtful. “I get that,” he admitted, glancing down at the canvas. “Sometimes I wonder if—” He hesitated, lips quirking in a wry smile. “If I wasn’t, you know, in one of the biggest bands in the world, maybe I’d dabble in art a little more. I love painting from time to time.”

You laughed softly. “Jungkook, you are an artist. Your art just exists in a different form.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something tender settling in his features. He didn’t say anything, just smiled, that small, knowing smile that always made your chest tighten.

A quiet moment passed between you before he reached for the paintbrush, dipping it into the paint and pressing the first stroke onto the canvas. A soft, curved line.

Then, he turned it toward you.

“Your turn,” he murmured.

The canvas starts out blank with Jungkook’s random green curved line, a fresh slate for the both of you to bring something beautiful to life. You sit cross-legged on the grass, the cool night air brushing against your skin, while Jungkook kneels beside you, sleeves rolled up, eyes alight with quiet amusement. His brush strokes are careful at first, blending soft pastels into delicate swirls. You mirror him, dipping your brush into a gentle shade of yellow, filling in the spaces between his colors, and for a while, it’s peaceful—just the two of you, creating something together.

Until Jungkook, the menace that he is, drags his brush across the page and suddenly there’s a cartoonish face staring back at you. A dumb little smiley face, right in the middle of your work.

You gasp, scandalized. “Jungkook!”

“What?” He grins, clearly unrepentant. “I think it adds character.”

“You just ruined it,” you huff, grabbing your brush and scribbling wildly over his addition, turning the face into an abstract mess of color.

“Oh, we’re doing that now?” He challenges, eyes gleaming, before he swipes his brush across the canvas again, this time completely disregarding any previous attempt at an actual painting. You do the same, jabbing color after color onto the canvas until it’s an explosion of chaos—brilliant, vibrant, utterly nonsensical. You’re both laughing now, breathless with amusement, hands stained with paint.

“Okay, fine,” Jungkook leans back, dramatically sighing. “You can have it.”

“Really?” You brighten, reaching for the canvas.

“You thought you could get away with it so easily?” His tone is teasing, and before you can react, he swipes his paint-covered fingers across your cheek, smearing blue and red onto your skin.

Your jaw drops.

You’re too whipped- more than you’d like to admit- to care that Jungkook has just ruined the full face of makeup you’d rushed through.

“Jungkook.”

He just grins. “What?”

“You’re dead.”

The next few seconds are a blur. You launch at him with your own paint-covered hands, swiping green onto his nose, red across his jawline. He yelps, scrambling up onto his feet, and then you’re chasing each other across the field, laughing so hard your sides ache. Jungkook catches you by the waist at one point, spinning you around, making you shriek before you retaliate by dragging your paint-slicked fingers through his hair.

“Okay, okay, truce!” He gasps out between laughs, both of you collapsing onto the grass, completely out of breath.

The world is quiet now, the night sky stretching above you in endless black, stars twinkling like distant dreams. Jungkook’s hand finds yours in the grass, fingers lacing together with ease. Neither of you say anything for a while—just lying there, hearts still racing, skin covered in smudges of color, the remnants of your laughter still lingering in the air.

And somehow, it’s perfect.

Lying on the grass, still out of breath, you soak in the quiet hum of the world around you. The night air is cool against your sweat-slick skin, but the warmth of Jungkook’s body beside you keeps you from shivering. The only sound between you is the occasional rustling of the grass and the distant chirp of crickets. It’s comfortable—so comfortable that you could almost forget that moments like this don’t last forever.

Jungkook, however, is still stuck in his head.

He shifts slightly beside you, staring up at the sky, his fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on his sleeve. You feel it before he even speaks—the way his energy shifts, his body tensing ever so slightly as if he’s about to break the silence.

And then he does.

“Hey…”

His voice is quiet, thoughtful. You turn your head, looking at him, waiting for whatever is on his mind. He hesitates, lips parting just enough, but no words come out at first. There’s something there—something heavy, weighing down his chest.

You don’t rush him. You just wait.

Jungkook swallows, gripping at the fabric of his hoodie, his heartbeat thrumming against his ribs. Tell her. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind. You have to tell her.

But he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to break this. Doesn’t want to watch the light dim in your eyes. Doesn’t want to see the shift in your body language when you realize he’s leaving. Not yet. Not when he still has this—still has you.

So instead, he blurts out, “You should come to my tour next week.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“My show. You should come.” He turns his head to look at you now, his eyes searching yours, like he’s hoping you won’t catch onto whatever he was originally going to say. “You’d like it. You’d get to see me perform properly, you know, instead of just messing around.” He flashes you a smile, playful, teasing, but there’s a flicker of something deeper beneath it.

Your lips curve up. “You mean instead of hearing you hum while you burn eggs on my stove?”

“Exactly,” he breathes out, relieved that you’re going along with it. “Totally different experience.”

You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Well… yeah, of course, I’ll come.”

Something in Jungkook’s chest tightens. You don’t hesitate—not even for a second. He doesn’t know why, but that makes it worse.

“Good,” he murmurs, looking back up at the sky. His heart is still racing, but not from the run earlier.

He knows he’s being selfish.

But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not tonight. Not yet.

The walk back to his car is slower than it needs to be. Neither of you say it out loud, but you’re both dragging out the moment, reluctant for the night to end. The streets are quieter now, the city winding down, but the tension between you is anything but.

Jungkook’s hand brushes against yours for the third time, but he doesn’t take it. You don’t know if you’re disappointed or relieved.

When you finally reach his car, he hesitates before unlocking it, turning to face you instead. His eyes roam over your face, like he’s trying to memorize the night through you.

“You have work tomorrow?” he asks, voice softer now.

You shake your head. “No.”

He exhales, like that was the answer he was hoping for. “Do you wanna come to my place?”

The words settle between you, heavy with meaning. His fingers drum lightly against his car door as he watches for your reaction. There’s no pressure in his voice, no expectation. Just quiet hope.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, but your lips part before your brain catches up. “Yeah,” you say, barely above a whisper.

His lips twitch into a small smile, and he unlocks the car. The drive to his apartment is quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. The air is thick with unspoken words, anticipation weaving through every glance he steals in your direction.

When he pulls up to his building and kills the engine, he turns to look at you properly. “We don’t have to if—”

“I want to,” you interrupt, already reaching for the door handle.

His brows lift in surprise before he lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he follows you out. You don’t know what’s going to happen next, but as you step into the elevator beside him, feeling the weight of his gaze on you, you know one thing for sure—tonight isn’t over yet.

You step into Jungkook’s apartment, the soft creak of the door marking the start of another quiet evening together. The place is… neat. Too neat. There are no plushies, no bright colors, just the quiet calm of minimalism. A stark contrast to your pastel-yellow chaos at home.

Jungkook is still holding the canvas you brought in from the field, walking in front of you. Your feet are sore—aching from running around the field, being on your feet for hours. You don’t say anything, though. There’s no need to complain. But Jungkook notices immediately, like he always does, his sharp eyes catching every detail, even the smallest of ones. You feel his gaze on you, and when you look up, he’s already sitting down next to you on the couch, inspecting your feet.

“Let me help,” he murmurs, gently tugging your feet onto his lap.

You blink in surprise. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gently removes your sneakers, revealing blisters that have formed at the top of your heels. The sight makes him frown, and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed, even though it’s nothing new to you.

“They’re nothing,” you protest, but he’s already examining your feet, looking concerned.

“Don’t act tough. This looks like it hurts,” he says softly, his voice gentle but serious. He disappears into his bathroom for a moment, coming back with a small tube of ointment.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Really.”

But he doesn’t listen. He’s determined. He squeezes some ointment onto his finger and carefully starts rubbing it on your blisters. His touch is soft, careful, like he’s trying to heal more than just your feet. And there’s something so intimate about the way he’s doing it—like this simple act of care is his way of showing affection.

The quiet in the room feels warmer now, as he focuses on tending to your blisters, his brow furrowed in concentration. You lean back against the couch, feeling the warmth of his hands and the soft hum of the apartment. It’s almost… domestic. The sound of the soft swish of ointment being applied, the quiet hum of his voice as he checks if you’re okay.

“You’re stubborn,” he murmurs, focusing on each blister with an intensity you didn’t expect from such a simple task. “Let me take care of you.” His voice is low, almost soft. It’s the kind of tone that makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in that moment.

You can’t help but smile, just a little. “I get these all the time at work,” you say, trying to brush it off. But it’s clear from the way he’s treating you that it’s not just about the blisters. It’s about something deeper—something you can’t quite explain. But he knows what it is.

“That’s the problem,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin of your ankle. “You don’t take care of yourself enough.”

You chuckle lightly, half-drunk from the wine earlier. “What do you mean? I’m fine. You’re acting like I’m falling apart.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch into a smile, but he says nothing. Instead, he finishes rubbing in the ointment, his eyes still soft as they meet yours. “You should let me take care of you more,” he adds, his words careful but intentional.

There’s a brief moment of silence, and you finally pull your feet back from his lap, sitting up. You glance around his apartment again, the stark, clean surfaces, the minimalist furniture that looks like it could belong to anyone but him. It’s… boring. Everything looks so empty. So… plain.

You smirk, teasing him. “This place is so boring, Jungkook. You need some color. And, like, a few toys… maybe a stuffed animal or two.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You think I need stuffed animals?”

You nod. “A hundred percent. Your apartment is practically a morgue without them.”

Jungkook chuckles, but there’s a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks. He runs a hand through his hair, looking a little flustered. “What do you mean? It’s—”

“You need some of my energy in here,” you continue, tipsy confidence taking over. You look around the room again and immediately start pointing out places where you’d put everything. “That shelf would be perfect for a few extra plushies, maybe a little neon light over there,” you gesture towards the corner of the room. “The couch could use a yellow throw. Maybe… a pillow? Or ten?”

Jungkook laughs, but there’s a nervous edge to it. “Maybe you should just do it, then,” he says. You can see the shy glint in his eyes, as if the idea is both absurd and exactly what he needs.

And you’re already nodding, a little too tipsy to be subtle. “I will,” you say with a grin, “It’s all part of my master plan. You’ll love it.”

The alcohol buzz makes you bold, and you’re already imagining what his place would look like, completely transformed into something warmer. More you. Maybe a little chaotic, but at least it would have personality.

Jungkook watches you, still a little flustered but clearly enjoying the way you’re taking charge. You feel a sudden warmth in your chest as you realize that maybe… maybe it’s just the beginning. This apartment. This moment. The way he’s looking at you.

Maybe you’re already home.

You’re curled up on the couch again with Jungkook, the TV playing something in the background, though neither of you are really paying attention. You’re lost in your own thoughts, flicking through your phone, when suddenly Jungkook shifts beside you.

“About these plushies,” he says, voice a little too casual, like he’s trying to hide the excitement. He disappears into his room for a second, and when he comes back, he’s holding something big, something fluffy.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Wait, no way…” you murmur, eyes fixed on the plushie he’s holding. It’s huge, like, absurdly huge for something meant to be hugged, and when you finally realize what it is, you burst out laughing.

“Seriously? How have you not had this on display?” you say, reaching out to touch it. “This is adorable.”

He grins sheepishly. “I’ve had it for years. Won it at an arcade, I don’t know, just never thought it was something I should show to someone.”

It’s a Hello Kitty plushie, and it’s wearing a purple onesie. Not just any onesie, though – it’s soft purple with a rainbow fade, almost like cotton candy. The plushie’s face is as sweet as ever, but the oversized onesie adds this adorable charm to it. Jungkook’s expression as you ogle it is almost funny in how genuinely embarrassed he looks, though you can tell there’s a soft, endearing pride hiding behind it.

You’re trying not to laugh too loudly, but it’s hard when you’re holding it in your arms like it’s the greatest thing ever. “Jungkook, this is too cute, I have something exactly like this from when i was young” you say, squeezing it to your chest. “How have you not shown this to me before? This is, like, peak childhood nostalgia.”

Before you know it, you’re tugging at the plushie, not letting go. “No, this is mine now,” you tease, pulling it away from him. Jungkook grins, and the next thing you know, you’re both in a tug-of-war, both unwilling to admit that you secretly want to keep the thing for yourself.

The fight only lasts a few seconds, though, and you find yourself tumbling into his lap (On accident… obviously.) the plushie now caught between you both. You’re laughing, but it’s a different kind of laugh – one that feels deeper, more genuine, like you’re both letting go of everything and just enjoying the moment.

For a second, you stop pulling at the plushie, both of you just breathing and looking at each other.

Jungkook’s hand is on your waist, his touch warm and steady. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and the energy between you two shifts.

The playful moment is still there, but it’s mixed with something else now—something more intimate, something that’s been building between you two for a while now. You can feel the tension rising as his hand brushes against your skin, and his breath becomes heavier. You’re so close now, you can feel his heartbeat in his chest as your body presses against his.

You both know what’s about to happen, but for a moment, neither of you move. It’s a moment suspended in time, the world outside of the two of you disappearing.

That’s when you feel it. You feel the hard evidence of his desire pressing against you. Jungkook’s hands immediately gripping your waist harder, stronger. This time- he’s not scared, he’s not hesitating. As if he’s been waiting for this as much as you have.

He pulls you closer, his smirk mischievous as he ground up into you. You haven’t even got started and you’re already fucking drenched. “Feel that?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “Feel how much I want you?”

You moan softly, body arching into his, your hands tangling in his hair. “Shut up, kiss me,” you demand, pulling his lips to yours.

The kiss was hungry, carnal, nothing at all like the previous pecks or quick kisses you’ve exchanged. Your lips finally meet, and he wastes no time. His tongue invades your mouth as his hips move against yours in a rhythm that was both teasing and relentless.

Dry humping jungkook was… electric in a way, you could do it for hours, the friction between your bodies sending waves of heat straight to your pussy. Like seriously. There was something different about doing it with him, like you could probably do this rather than fuck-

A lie. But pretty close to the truth.

You feel your panties growing damp, clinging to you like it’s second skin, and you knew he could feel it too. You will yourself to push away the icky feeling and focus on the pleasure instead.

“You’re so wet,” He murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “You like this?”

You bite your lip, biting back a smile, nodding as he stood up suddenly. Your about to protest until he lifts you so… effortlessly and it has your panties absolutely drenched.

His strength was intoxicating. And you wrap your legs around his dainty, tiny waist, hands gripping his shoulders. He’s kicking the door open, rushing to what you can only guess is his bedroom, and you have no time to even process your surroundings, not like you’re expecting anything different than a bed and some boring white walls, maybe a desk, until his mouth is back on yours.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, his lips brushing your neck as he carries you to the bed. Compared to his particularly rough way of handling you previously, he sets you down gently, just long enough to rip off his shirt, revealing his tatted arms and muscular chest. But after that, his hands are immediately back at your skin. You swear you see them itching to touch your skin while he took off his shirt as if removing his fingers from your warmth electrocuted the poor man-

The soft glow of his lamp casts golden hues across his skin, tracing every ridge and contour like a painter’s careful brushstrokes. And now you really take him in, hands running down the expanse of his chest and his abs. And he lets you.

His tattoos on his arm shift with every slow breath, the inked designs stretching over taut muscle, telling stories in a language only his body knows. Shadows dip between the carved lines of his abs, the definition sharp yet effortless, a testament to years of quiet discipline.

His collarbones catch the light just right, leading your gaze lower, where the steady rise and fall of his chest keeps time with the quiet space between you. He’s beautiful—undeniably so—but it’s not just the way he looks. It’s the way he holds himself, the quiet confidence in his stance above you, the warmth of his gaze when he catches you staring.

“Like what you see?,” he smirks, his tone low and teasing. Like always.

Without hesitation, you get up to your knees, ignoring him. Jungkook’s clearly taken a back when you start fiddling with his dress pants. Whimpering like a fucking dog. Mentally thanking yourself for drinking some wine cause you probably would faint doing this sober.

You aren’t waiting any longer. The sexual tension between you both has become unbearable recently and if today is another test to your patience…you’re definitely failing.

“Please-“ Your fingers trembling slightly as you unzip his pants, pulling them down to reveal the print in his black calvins.Pawing at his boxers. He helps you a bit, pulling them down and cradling your cheek with the other hand, almost as if he’s keeping you and himself grounded.

His cock springs free, and you shamelessly ogle at it. Thick and throbbing, he’s big. You knew he’d be big. There was always something about Jeon Jungkook that screamed ‘big dick energy’ - Like Nari would say.

A singular vein starts up from the bottom, leading all the way up to his engorged, pink, wet tip. His dick is clean of pubes around the base, but he has one thing that has always had you absolutely weak in the knees. A happy trail. Faintly trailing up just underneath where his abs start, and you genuinely don’t know how you’re still steady on your knees.

You aren’t really. His mattress is far too soft to kneel comfortably, but you don’t really care about it.

You waste no time when Jungkook’s patience has ran thin and he’s suddenly wrapping his tattooed hand around the base of his cock, filling the room with nasty, lewd, wet noises as he strokes it, and before you know it, he’s swinging it across your cheek with a soft smack before finally you wrap your needy lips around his head.

You tease him first, yet you don’t know if you’re teasing him or yourself- You tease him with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the slightly salty taste of his precum as his groans fill the space around you. “Fuckk-“ he moans out loud, and you’re taken aback by how vocal he is, yet you dont let it distract you from the real mission at hand… or mouth.

He threads his fingers through your hair, and it feels so fucking intentional and intimate you cant help but break the eye contact. His thrusts at first into your mouth start shallow- as if he’s hesitating. Testing the waters. But once your soft sucking turn into full on gagging around his cock, he’s gripping your hair tighter, guiding you deeper.

You don’t even know why. Usually you aren’t the one for deepthroating, in fact you absolutely detest it. But it’s different when it’s him, and you think you know why.

You moan around him, impossible not to. The vibrations sending him closer over the edge already, but he holds back. “Take it,” he instructs. You look up again, and he looks like he’s in a different world. You aren’t surprised when you see him staring right back at you, and you abide, hollowing your cheeks as much as you possibly can for him as he starts to fuck your throat, his hips snapping forward in a rhythm that was both rough and desperate.

The room is full. Full. Of obscene noises. Some you are sure you’ve definetly never heard before in your life. And you didn’t even know you could make them. They’re mixing with his own moans, and for the weirdest reason- your mind slips to the fact he has a dog- Bam infact, who’s probably somewhere waddling around in Jungkook’s apartment waiting to be put to sleep. You completely forgot to meet him. Oh dear. That poor dog…

Anyways.

You pull off with a pop, licking your lips and grinning up at him. He looks down at you, carefully removing the sweaty stray hairs rhat have stuck to your forehead and you can’t help but nuzzle slightly into his hands. You can’t help but think when you look back up that there’s something different about the way he looks at you.

Recently, you’ve gotten used to it. Since the first night you slept over, and Jungkook tasted you as if he was eating dessert for the first time ever. When he woke you up with breakfast. That specific way he looked at you and made you feel so… loved? you couldn’t handle it.

But this time, it’s different. It feels more intense, more intimate. You don’t dwell on it too long, fearing the outcome of it.

Your lips are swollen and shiny when you finally break the silence, it getting far too heavy than what this was- “Your turn,” You tease, breaking the tension, pushing him back onto the couch. You straddle him after ripping off your soiled panties and your sad excuse of a dress, which has now became a bundle of fabric resting above your waist. Thighs brushing against his, your poor little clit is throbbing as you feel his cock pressing against her.

You sit up for a minute, looking around the room and as if Jungkook can read your mind, you’ve noticed that he basically can, he’s reaching over to the nightstand, pulling out a packet of condoms.

You roll it on after ripping it open with deliberate slowness, giving a few languid strokes to his cock, which was now as hard as ever, and it’s shining a deep red in the light of his lamp, before you straddle his meaty thighs again, you’re sure you’ve leaked all over them- but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore.

Your eyes lock on his, and you will yourself not to look away. “Impatient?” he smirks, but you just smile and nod, positioning his cock at your entrance, nudging your folds slightly.

The moment you sink down on him for the first time it’s… euphoric. It feels like it goes on forever, stretching out as long as possible. It’s different to anything you’ve ever felt before, and you’re sure it has nothing to do with the sheer size of his dick- no. It’s because it’s simply him. And you know it. His cock fills you in ways that you could never imagine at home when you felt particularly lonely and needed some quick satisfaction from your fingers.

You look down at him, seeing that this position was probably not the best choice for the first time a dick this size is entering you, a pained expression on your face. Earlier, the slight buzz of wine had you particularly cocky and to be honest- you weren’t expecting Jungkook to be this… big. He notices your discomfort, his hands finding your waist like it’s second nature.

“Slow, don’t rush.” You nod, trying your hardest to settle the ache in your walls, trying your hardest to force your expression to be neutral, but it’s the hardest part now, his base- which is noticeably thicker than the rest of his length.

Frustration slowly builds up in you, your eagerness to please and also your eagerness to chase your own pleasure and release eating you up, but when Jungkook notices- because of course he does- he immediately stops you by tightening his hold on your waist and he holds you there.

“Too big?” He smirks, but his usual cocky remarks do nothing to help your frustration like it usually does, and he notices immediately. The furrow of his concentrated brows softening as you slip off of his dick and sit on his thighs with a huff.

He’s leaning up to cradle your face, kissing the corner of your lips with a sweet peck. Your own embarrassment creeping up, evident of the slight red blush on your neck. “Hey.”

You feel your own tears creeping up and betraying your attempted facade of being well… tough. It’s clear however, Jungkook isn’t convinced, he’s sitting up now. The ache in his cock suddenly not so overwhelming as he watches your tears get the best of you. “God this is so stupid- I don’t know why i’m crying-“

He shushes you. Simply hugs you, and suddenly the need to please- the need to clear your own pleasure- it’s gone as fast as it came. Jungkook’s arms ground you, you’re still slightly buzzing from the wine, and for a bit, you just lay there. The tears have somehow come to a stop, and you just breathe. For once tonight you finally breathe. Bare chest pressed against his, and despite how sexual it all sounds, its everything but.

Its been a while- A few minutes maybe, but the silence has slowly become deafening and the twitching of Jungkooks still-hard cock beneath your stomach has definitely not gone unnoticed. And moreso the ache in your lower abdomen. He notices the shift- how suddenly you brush off your discomfort. And like the gentleman that he’s always been, has none of it.

“Hey- Stop-“ You’re scrambling around in his arms, trying to shift your position. “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable okay? Relax, i’m not going anywhere.”

“Please-“ You’re grinding up on his cock now, folds melting around his base like butter- moulding to the shape of it, as if you’re pussy’s never getting a taste of it again, trying to remember it. Above you, Jungkook’s gritting his teeth, his own pleasure being satisfied by you simply grinding on his dick, but the guilt from before eats at him, and he can’t focus.

He’s opening his mouth to say something before you get up, repositioning his cock at your entrance. You’ve had enough. Deciding to get over it. Get over the pain and ride his dick like you fucking need it to breathe oxygen. You don’t care, it’s happening.

Jungkook sees your determination, he is however, hesitant. The second his tip is swallowed by your lips, hes groaning, using every bit of composure to not thrust his whole cock into you and fuck you dumb. “Slow.”

It’s simple, his words, but they help. Tremendously. You slowly start sinking down, the easy part being a breeze, until you reach the familiar barrier and stretch of his base. He’s gripping your waist tighter than ever now, and you focus on his nails that dig into your skin as you lean down and capture his lips in a kiss.

Just to distract you.

You moan into his mouth when you finally get past it, smiling on his own lips.

Encouragement, thats all you needed. And despite the pain of the stretch, Jungkook’s own moans that spill into your throat distract you enough to start moving. “You’re doing so good. Im so proud-“

Your walls clench around him, as you gasp, head falling back when you sit up and detach from his lips as he fills you up completely.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, hands gripping your thighs. You finally pick up the pace, the ache from earlier soothing down a bit until its finally gone. And you laugh. You probably look so fucking stupid, but you laugh. Bouncing on his cock, the friction finally sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jungkook’s always been fiddly. Being unable to keep his hands at one task for maybe no longer than five minutes. He decides his hands get bored of gripping your thighs, though they were really there so he kept his composure. Now they grab at your breasts, squeezing them softly, leaning up to lick the little nubs that erupt from between his fingers. And “Ffuck-“ It’s great. It’s fucking great. Because now you’re gaining confidence, his tongue just laps at them the same way he did with your pussy, and you gain speed. Satiating both of your pleasures.

Your plump ass bounces with each movement, soft slaps filling the otherwise quiet room. Jungkook of course, moves on from your tits to grab and squeeze at your ass. Perky breasts freeing from his hold and jiggling as you moved. He watches intently, letting you go at your own pace, and your heart just fucking clenches at it, he cares about you so much. Eyes dark with desire. “Yeah, babe.”

You go at it for a while, a mix of bouncing on his cock and grinding your little clit down on his stomach, before the pace suddenly is doing nothing to stimulate the throbbing in your core and before you know it he pulls out briefly, the loss making you whimper. And he redeems himself cause hes such a good boy. Gently flipping you around, helping you position on your hands and knees, pushing your back down into his sheets, which you also make a mental note of asking him what fabric softener he uses, and smoothing his hands down the expanse of your spine. He rubs the tip of your cock against your folds, fucking his cock there briefly before shoving it back into you in one quick move from behind.

“That’s it,,” he growls, his thrusts deep and relentless.

There’s something different about his movement now. It’s no longer slow. Calculated. It’s rather needy and rough, and you’re moaning obnoxiously, sure the neighbours are probably screaming into their pillows due to all the racket you two have made, but you dont care. Not anymore.

“Jungkook-“ He’s leaning down, hard chest pressed to your back. The proximity makes you blush, and the heat of his body envelopes your own, quickly making you realise how cold his room is.

His lips press against your ears, “Ugh, fuck” Deep, raspy moans travelling down them, and his thrusts dont lose rhythm. Not once.At all. His needy hands grab at whatever he can, your waist, your tits, briefly pulling on your nipples before he’s leaning back up and delivering a sharp smack to your ass. It’s light, though, as if he’s worried if you wont like it.

And you’re quick to show him you very much do.

“Jungkook!” His head is tucked into your neck against, lips lapping up at the sensitive skin there, your manicured fingers grab at his hair, pulling him closer, trying your hardest to balance on one hand, your body being thrown forward with every single thrust.

And of course, he’s teasing you again. Giving you a fat, wet kiss on your cheek before ripping away from your hold on his hair and slowing his thrusts down.

He watches your pussy just swallow up his cock up in awe, slowing down his thrusts. Slow enough to make you scramble around, thrusting your ass back against his hips. And he stops you. Because he likes to torture himself, but he also wants to hold himself back. Cause he knows he’ll regret coming now.

He switches it up after trailing kisses along your back, soothing your whines with them. Gently. His ever so gentle hands pull your little body up and rest your back against the mattress. Cock still tucked inside you. And he realises that moment on, that hes so fucking whipped for you. And it’s dangerous.

Not like he hasn’t been since the start, but still.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, spitting down at your pussy, just because, pulling out again. Chuckles at the whines of protest from you. Slaps the tip of his cock against your pussy until he cant physically handle it and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. You open your mouth, ready to protest until he pushes your back onto the pillows.

“Spread,” he commands, his voice firm but laced with desire. And you obey. Like a “Good fucking girl.” Your breath hitching. Confused when he retracts completely, only to widen your eyes when he’s arching his body down and getting so close to your pussy until-

“Fuck!” His tongue comes out, licking at your folds, lapping at your hole, his fingers join in to rub your clit in slow, torturous circles. It’s nothing different to the first time he ate you out, but theres something different in the way it feels. And you can’t quite pinpoint exactly what it is, but decide you won’t dwell on it further when a particularly harsh suck is delivered to your clit. “Mmmhhgh-“ He’s moaning. Full on fucking moaning into your pussy, and you’re not sure you can handle tonight any longer.

You were close, so close, hips bucking against his mouth as you whimper his name. Grabbing at his locks, frantically tugging. You’re probably hurting his poor scalp, but you don’t care. And Jungkook? He looks like he’s absolutely loving it. Theres some movement on the bed, and surprisingly it’s not from your insistent squirming around, instead, Jungkook is grinding his cock into the duvet.

He goes at it for a bit longer. And for a millionth time tonight, you whine at his audacity to edge you…again! He presses one little kiss to your clit, and it makes the pink on your cheeks turn a darker red.

“Patience,” He pulls away before you can cum. You’re whining once again, at this point it’s all you can fucking do, but he’s quick to shush you. Moving you again with that same gentleness he’s had for half the night.

You’re now sat on his lap, except this time reverse cowgirl style. Now feeling extra confident, you slip his fat cock in your walls, moaning louder than ever tonight. Your close, He is too. You can tell by the way his cock slightly twitches inside of you. “So b-big.”

“Babe, fuck-“ Jungkook manages to get out. You don’t see the tortured expression on his face from how he’s been holding back this entire night, but you can hear it in his voice. And you start bouncing on his cock with a speed that you weren’t even sure was possible.

“Shit! Shit! Shit-“ Your hips are moving up and down with his now, and he can’t even keep up with the immense speed of your thighs clapping down on his. You bend down, grabbing on his knees for support, drooling onto them. You can practically see him smirking behind you ass he grabs at your ass cheeks like they’re fucking stressballs, watching them clap in his hands in absolute awe. A ring of white has accumulated under the condom, and the sight of your other hole just winking at him has him so tempted to just-

“Ah!” His calloused thumb starts rubbing at it, slow at first, but when your pussy clenches around his cock, he rubs at it rampant.

God this is so embarrassing.

You’re so fucking close. And at the worst timing ever, your knees start giving out, but Jungkook notices, and is also chasing his own release he’s been edging against the whole night, and he cant help it when he’s frantically grabbing your waist and pulling you back, your back now meeting his sweaty chest.

“Harder! Harder!” You chant between your gargled moans, he takes over, the speed of how you rode his cock just a few seconds is nothing to how fast he’s just jackhammering up into you now. “Fuck Jungkook!”

Wrapping his tatted arm around you tightly, his other hand is around your breasts, forearm pushing them up. You feel his frantic breaths and moans against the skin of your back, shifting slightly so your heads are next to eachother.

Jungkook genuinely has no fucking idea how he hasn’t cum. Especially when you turn his head to kiss him, even though you’re both practically moaning incoherent sentences that just sound like begs and pleas into eachothers mouths rather than actually kissing him. His arm moves down, rubbing at your little clit in fast circles, ignoring how his hand slips around occasionally cause of how wet you are.

You kiss him, shoving your tongue around his mouth, moaning into it. “Mmm, fuck Kook-“

The nickname slips from your mouth. And it seems to set him off, cause he’s looking at you properly now. Looking so deep into your eyes that you have to shift your gaze elsewhere. And before you know it.

He’s literally fucking drilling into your pussy.

“Say it again.” A spank to your clit.

“Kook!-“ Hands grab at your face again, holding your chin. Way harder compared to the gentle touch hes gotten you used to. Forcing you to look him in the eyes, making your lips pucker up in front of his as he pecks them.

“Cum on my cock like you were fucking born for it-“ He forces your gaze to your pussy, and that’s what does it, cause it finally comes crashing down on you.

“Nggghhgg! FUCK JUNGKOOK-“ He rubs at your clit even faster now, prolonging the orgasm that just rips through your whole body. His thrusts are relentless and he dosent stop, until he’s moving his face back to yours, moaning into your mouth as his cum spills in the condom.

He doesn’t slow down until you beg. Until you swear you see stars. But he keeps his cock tucked into you, practically eating your face at this point with short, little thrusts into your pussy. “Fuck.”

——

You’re lying on the couch in his shirt, the heat in his room finally starting to get far too uncomfortable, leading to Jungkook carrying you to the sofa. Not after cleaning the bed up by himself, insisting you sat awkwardly on his desk and watch. Not after he’d cleaned you up and hugged you obnoxiously tight until you had to tickle him for him to loosen his grip. Not until he calms you down with his lips against your scalp, leg tucked around his waist as if this was a regular thing between you.

And it probably is at this point.

The fabric swallows you up as you relax into the soft cushions. Jungkook’s in his own shirt, and his boxers, which—of course—look way too good on him, as usual. You feel like a kid playing dress-up in his oversized shirt and your own pair of his boxers that you borrowed. Your ruined underwear probably tucked somewhere between the mattress and his unsurprisingly boring headboard. You know it’s ridiculous, but you’re too comfortable to care.

The air is warm from the low hum of the AC, and the quiet around you is peaceful. Maybe too peaceful. It feels a little too… perfect. The kind of perfect that makes you want to take a deep breath, but you’re scared it might slip away if you do.

Jungkook’s lounging next to you, his arm casually draped behind your waist, his eyes half-lidded in that way he gets when he’s content. But you can’t help feeling like this is too much. Too close. Too perfect. Too… romantic. You start fidgeting a bit, your mind beginning to spiral, the weight of everything pressing in on you.

Your hand brushes against his chest, but your breath hitches for a second, and then you start pulling away, barely catching yourself before he notices. You feel stupid, but you can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

Jungkook, of course, notices anyway. His arm tightens around you, drawing you back in with that magnetic pull of his, but this time you don’t resist.

“Everything okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s that tone underneath—concern and attention.

You avoid his gaze, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt, like that might somehow make things feel less intimate. “Yeah, just… I dunno. It just feels… like everything’s happening too fast, you know?”

He doesn’t let you pull away. Instead, he leans in a little closer, like he’s trying to read you, then grins that lazy grin of his. “You don’t have to worry about everything. Just be here. With me.”

You sigh, trying to hold onto the lingering unease, but it’s hard when he’s pulling you back so easily. You roll your eyes, trying to joke, “Okay, Mr. Perfect.”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m not perfect, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re close enough.”

You feel yourself relax against him again, but the uncertainty still nags at the back of your mind. And, just like that, he gets up with a small grunt, his muscles flexing as he stretches.

“Stand?,” he says suddenly, his tone commanding but playful.

“What?” You blink at him.

He doesn’t let you finish, hoisting you into his arms with a grin. You’re too caught off guard to protest, but the laugh that bubbles up from your throat is a mix of surprise and amusement.

“Jungkook, are you seriously carrying me right now?”

He just shrugs, his grin widening. “Yeah. You’re too cute to just leave on the couch.”

“Please. You’re just showing off,” you mutter, but you can’t help the smile that sneaks its way onto your face. It’s ridiculous, and you’re not sure why he does it, but there’s something so undeniably charming about it.

“I could carry you anywhere.” He winks as if it’s just a fact. “And I will, if you want.”

You roll your eyes, though a soft laugh escapes your lips. He’s impossible.

He carries you into the bathroom and sets you gently on the counter. His hands linger on your hips as he lets you settle, and you don’t even realize you’re already relaxing again until he turns around to grab his toothbrush.

“Hang on, I’ll get something for your makeup, and the paint.” he says, rummaging through the drawer. His eyes light up as he pulls out a tissue and water. “This work?”

You stare at him, trying to keep a straight face. “Water and a tissue?” You can’t even hide the laughter that bubbles up. “Are you seriously offering me that?”

Jungkook looks sheepish, but there’s a spark of humor in his eyes. “What? I tried.”

You roll your eyes again, but it’s soft this time, affectionate. “Seriously, though, you don’t have any makeup wipes, or… I don’t know, a proper remover?”

He freezes, his face contorting slightly as he remembers something. “Wait.” He digs around in the cabinet and finally pulls out a bottle of micellar water. “I forgot I had this. Don’t judge me.”

“Are you serious?” You laugh. “You’ve got a skincare collection, but not makeup remover?”

He shrugs with a grin, still not admitting he’s been slacking on the basics. “I take care of myself. Just didn’t think to get wipes.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Sure, because micellar water is so much better.”

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls the bottle open and starts using it on a cotton pad. “Fine, laugh it up. But It’ll still make sure your skin’s clean.”

You watch him, the familiarity of the moment bringing warmth to your chest. It’s domestic, sweet. In a way, you don’t even realize you’ve fallen into this routine with him. It’s easy, natural.

“I’m gonna steal your skincare someday,” you say, the words light but carrying a promise.

“Not unless you want to use my stuff forever.” His eyes are playful, though, as he pulls his shirt off and starts getting ready for bed. “I’ll keep you stocked.”

You stand in front of the mirror now, legs still wobbly, cotton pad in hand, gently wiping away the last traces of your makeup and the paint from earlier, The micellar water is cool against your skin, a grounding sensation, but there’s still an unshakable hum beneath your skin, a leftover buzz of adrenaline, of him.

Jungkook has discarded his shirt in the laundry basket, leaving him in just his boxers, and yet, somehow, he still looks so put together—so effortlessly beautiful. His bare chest is still slightly pink, flushed over from exertion, from being pressed against you for so long, and his damp hair falls over his forehead in soft waves. You can feel him staring before you even lift your eyes to the mirror, and when you do, his gaze is heavy, unreadable.

It’s not like he hasn’t looked at you before. He does it all the time, with that same quiet awe, like you’re something rare, something he can’t quite believe is real. But there’s something different about it this time. The way his brows twitch ever so slightly, the way his lips part like he’s about to speak, like he has something to say but doesn’t know if he should. There’s something behind his eyes, something dark and guilty, and for a second, you think he might actually say it. That thing, whatever it is, that he’s holding back.

“What?” you ask, voice quiet in the stillness.

“Nothing,” he says, smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Then, before you can question it further, he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His touch is warm, grounding, and he holds your hand like you’re something delicate, something precious, something he doesn’t want to let go of. He leads you out of the bathroom, walking you towards the bed in comfortable silence, and when you reach it, he tucks you in as if you’re a child, pulling the covers up over you with such gentle care that your heart clenches painfully in your chest.

And then, he’s slipping in next to you, immediately wrapping himself around you, pressing his body close, his arms caging you in. His nose nudges against your temple, his breath warm against your skin, and you don’t even think to resist. You just let it happen, let yourself melt into him, let him pull you in like you belong there.

There’s something about the way he’s holding you tonight. It’s different. He’s always touched you like he wants to, like he enjoys it, but this—this feels like something else entirely. It feels desperate, like he’s trying to commit the feeling of you to memory, like he’s afraid he’ll never get to do this again. His hold is just a little tighter, his touch lingering a little longer, his fingers brushing against your forehead in slow, absentminded strokes. And then there’s the way his lips hover over your skin, like he can’t help himself, like it’s in his nature to always be kissing you.

Your heart stutters.

Jungkook’s is racing.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is steady against your palm, but underneath it, his heartbeat is erratic, fast, too fast for someone who should be relaxed.

Jungkook can feel everything. The warmth of your palm against his chest, the soft, absentminded way your fingertips trace over his skin like you’re trying to understand the way his heart beats. It’s fast—too fast—and he knows you can feel it.

And then there’s you. The way you’re looking at him, brows slightly furrowed, eyes searching his face with something gentle, something questioning. Concern. It makes his stomach twist, makes his throat tighten, because you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him.

He shouldn’t be selfish.

He shouldn’t be holding you like this, keeping you this close, memorizing the weight of you against him like it’s something he’ll have to remember later. But he is. And when your fingers press a little more firmly against his chest, when you whisper, “Why is your heart beating so fast?” he nearly tells you.

Nearly.

He bites down on it, swallows back the words that threaten to spill, the truth that sits heavy on his tongue. Because if he tells you now—if he tells you that time is slipping through his fingers, that he doesn’t know how many more times he’ll get to have you like this—you’ll look at him differently. You’ll ask questions he’s not ready to answer.

So instead, he exhales slowly, forcing his body to relax beneath your touch. And then, finally, he settles on something—something softer, something safe.

“Guess I’m just trying to hold onto this.”

The words are quiet, slipping into the space between you like a secret, like something unspoken that neither of you are ready to pick apart.

Your fingers still against his chest. There’s a pause, just long enough for him to know you’re thinking about it, that you’re trying to make sense of what he means. But then you blink up at him, and whatever question was about to form in your mind, it passes.

“Dramatic much?” you mumble, rolling your eyes.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, something light, something easy—something to make sure you don’t linger on it for too long. “You love it,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against your temple before pulling you closer.

And just like that, you let it go.

You don’t think about the way he looked at you in the bathroom, or the way his fingers linger a little too long against your skin, or the way his voice sounds just a little sad, a little wistful. You don’t think about any of it. You just let your eyes flutter shut, let yourself sink into the warmth of him, let yourself drift off with his heartbeat echoing against your palm.

Just like that, you press yourself against him, letting his warmth lull you to sleep, unaware of the way Jungkook keeps his eyes open just a little longer, staring at the ceiling—holding onto this, just like he said.

And neither of you say anything else.

Because in this moment, in this quiet, tangled-up mess of limbs and longing, the silence is enough.

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stargazsblog · 15 days ago

Text

what happens in vegas | ch.2 the deal

satoru gojo x fem!reader

୨ৎ after a messy breakup, you go to vegas with your best friend, shoko, to forget about everything. a night of partying and drinking, you wake up in a hotel room with a stranger in your bed and a ring on your finger, with zero idea what happened. that stranger? satoru gojo-some guy you barely know. turns out, you two might've gotten married. now you've got to figure out what to do with this mess.

୨ৎ warning/tags: fluff, romance, jealousy, no smut (im sorry), sexual references, some angst, use of alcohol, inspired by what happens in vegas.

note: this chapter is short i’m sorry!

masterlist

“Why not just get a divorce?“ Suguru said, adjusting his sleeves as they strolled toward the breakfast area. “What’s stopping you?”

Satoru sighed, rolling his shoulders. “It’s complicated.”

"Complicated how? You sign some papers, pay her off, and boom—freedom," Toji said, making a dramatic exploding gesture with his hands.

“If Sukuna were here, he’d be laughing his ass off,” Suguru added. “He’d say marriage is just an overpriced contract.”

Toji smirked, shaking his head. “He’s back home with his new girlfriend.”

“New?” Suguru raised a brow. “Let me guess—he got bored? Now that I think about it, we never even met his ex.”

“We didn’t,” Toji confirmed. “Which is weird, considering how long they were together. What was it—three years?”

Suguru let out a low whistle. “Three years? And we never met her? That’s a first. Didn’t think Sukuna was capable of long-term relationships.”

Satoru hummed. “Maybe she wasn’t like the others.”

“Or maybe she just didn’t want to be around us,” Toji smirked. “Smart girl.”

They all chuckled, but Satoru’s mind had already shifted back to his current situation.

His family had been on his ass about settling down for years, sending one woman after another in front of him like he was some kind of prize. It was getting old.

This accidental marriage? It’s the perfect excuse to make them stop. As long as he’s married, they won’t keep pushing him to settle down. But if he gets a divorce, they’ll just start the whole thing over again.

Satoru bit his lip, turning the thought over in his head. Then, slowly, a smirk crept onto his face.

“Maybe this is a good idea,” he said, voice light, almost amused. “I mean, my parents have been bothering me about getting married forever.”

Toji narrowed his eyes. “So, what? You’re gonna trick her into staying married just to shut your parents up?”

Satoru shrugged. “Trick is a strong word.”

Toji scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

Suguru, meanwhile, just snorted, shaking his head. “Honestly? That might be the dumbest yet smartest thing you’ve ever done.”

Satoru grinned. “That’s my specialty.”

Toji ran a hand down his face. “This is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Maybe. But at least my parents will leave me alone.”

“Yeah? And what about her?” Suguru asked, tilting his head. “Think she’s just gonna roll with this?”

Satoru opened his mouth, but his eyes flickered across the breakfast area—and there you were. Sitting at a table with Shoko, leaning forward as she whispered something.

Satoru’s smirk deepened, his tone dripping with amusement. “She’ll come around.”

Toji followed his gaze and let out a short laugh. “This I gotta see.”

After the morning disaster, you couldn’t stand being in Satoru's room for another second. You found Shoko in the hotel room you guys shared, pacing back and forth like she’d just run a marathon.

You both were freaking out about what happened last night, still trying to process it. Now, here you were, sitting down in the breakfast area, trying to distract yourselves with food.

“I think you guys look kinda cute in this photo. Look!” Shoko said, talking with her mouth full as she shoved her phone in your face.

You groaned, already regretting it. On the screen was a picture of you and Satoru at the altar in Vegas, kissing. Your hair was a mess, your makeup was ruined. In the background, Shoko was crying while holding a half-empty champagne bottle.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, covering your face. “We look terrible.”

Shoko snorted. “Nah, just two people deeply in love… with alcohol.”

“Stop talking with your mouth full, it’s gross,” you said, cringing.

“Gross? Says the girl who made out with Satoru in front of an Elvis impersonator.”

You groaned louder, slumping back into your chair. This was a disaster. A complete disaster. You had just gotten out of a breakup, and now you were married. What were you even supposed to say to your parents? To anyone when you got back home?

“Besides,” Shoko said, licking syrup off her fork, “didn’t you say his room was bigger than ours? That means he’s crazy rich. And since you guys are married, that’s basically your money now.”

You shot her a glare. “I’m not taking his money, Shoko.”

She shrugged, popping another bite of pancake into her mouth. “Suit yourself. But if I were you, I’d at least get a designer bag out of it.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “This is such a mess. I can’t believe I’m married to him. I don’t even know how to tell anyone back home. How do you explain this?”

Shoko let out a bitter laugh, her voice tinged with sarcasm. “Yeah, good luck with that one. ‘So, Mom, I got married in Vegas… to a guy I didn’t even know.’ Perfect story for the family, right?”

You looked up, rolling your eyes. “Really helpful, Shoko.”

She shrugged, still poking at her food. “Hey, I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

“I mean, we could just get a divorce, right?” you said, letting the words slip out before you really thought about it. “We don’t know each other, so we can just act like strangers and pretend like we never got married?”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “Divorce? You know that’s not how it works, right? It’s not just a quick fix.”

You leaned back in your chair, still feeling the weight of everything. “I know, but… I don’t know how else to fix this. It’s not like we even know each other.”

The room fell into an awkward silence. You poked at your food, your mind wandering to the mess you’d found yourself in. You couldn’t stop thinking about Sukuna. Would he get mad? Upset? You immediately pushed the thought away. He cheated on you. You shouldn’t care what he thinks anymore.

Suddenly, Shoko gasped, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh shit,” she murmured under her breath.

You looked up, confused. “What? What is it?”

Shoko’s eyes flicked behind you. “Look.”

You slowly turned your head, following her gaze. And then you saw them—Satoru and his two friends walking toward your table.

Your heart skipped a beat. Of course, Satoru had to show up now. And of course, his friends—those annoyingly charming guys—were with him. Great.

You slumped in your seat, trying to act casual, but the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

Satoru finally reached your table, his eyes immediately locking with yours as that cocky grin never faded. “Well, well,” he said, sliding into the chair next to you with too much ease, “look at you, Mrs. Gojo. Still looking as stunning as ever.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. He was so cocky for someone who just got married to a stranger. “Really? Is that really what you’re going to say to me?”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he hadn’t just put you in an impossible situation. “I mean, it’s true, isn’t it? Can’t blame me for appreciating the view.”

You felt your annoyance grow, but you kept your cool, forcing yourself not to snap at him. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that?”

Before Satoru could respond, he casually motioned to the two guys who had just slid into the chairs across from you. “Anyway, let me introduce you to my friends,” he said. “This is Toji,” he pointed to the guy who looked intimidating, Toji was muscular, with short-cropped hair.

Then Satoru gestured to the quieter figure beside him. “And this is Suguru,” he said, his tone dropping slightly. Suguru was a tall guy with dark, calm eyes and dark hair that partially fell over his forehead. He gave you a polite nod, a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Shoko had mentioned she’d slept with a guy named Suguru. And considering Satoru had casually mentioned one of his friends might’ve kept her company, you assumed it was Suguru. You glanced at Shoko, your eyes asking without words. She gave you a quick nod, confirming your suspicions without uttering a word.

Toji stretched, glancing at you like it was the most normal thing in the world. “So, you’re the one who got stuck with Satoru, huh?” His voice was low and smooth. Toji’s tone made it clear he was enjoying the chaos of the situation.

“Seems like a real… interesting morning,” Suguru remarked, clearly trying to keep the mood light.

Shoko looked over at you, her eyebrows raised as she gave you a silent look that said it all—I can’t believe this is happening either. She shifted in her seat, glancing at the three men now surrounding you, clearly trying to keep it together. You could tell she was doing her best not to laugh at how ridiculously uncomfortable this all felt.

The silence stretched on, and you could feel your frustration growing. Satoru, of course, was still too casual about everything, but it wasn’t helping that the tension.

Finally, Shoko, the good friend that she is, broke the silence. “So… how long are you guys staying in Vegas for?” she asked, her voice light and trying to ease the situation.

Suguru, looking almost bored, replied, “We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Shoko echoed, her tone upbeat as if she was trying to keep the conversation going. “Well, we’re leaving tomorrow morning too. What a coincidence. Where do you guys live?”

“Tokyo,” Suguru said, barely sparing her a glance. There was an awkward tension in his voice, and it was clear there was something unsaid between him and the others, but no one was talking about it.

Your eyes widened at his response. Tokyo? That’s where you lived. You were married to a complete stranger, and now you found out that he lived in the same city as you? The irony hit you hard, and it was like the universe was mocking you.

You couldn’t help but lean back in your chair, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Great,” you muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Just great.”

You were still trying to process everything when you felt a light poke on your arm.

You turned your head slightly, already knowing who it was.

Satoru.

He was leaning toward you with that same lazy grin on his face, blue eyes sparkling like this was all just one big joke.

“Why are you ignoring your husband?” he asked, tilting his head with mock innocence.

You stared at him blankly. Of course he’d say that. Of course he was acting like this was no big deal. You swore he was like a little boy who couldn’t stand not being the center of attention.

“I don’t know,” you said flatly, turning back to your barely touched plate. “Maybe because I don’t remember agreeing to be anyone’s wife.”

Satoru placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “Ouch. That one actually hurt a little.”

You took a deep breath and turned to him. “Can we talk?” you asked, your voice low but firm. “Alone. Please.”

His playful grin didn’t falter, but you could see the slight shift in his expression as he stood up. “Oh? My wife wants a private chat. I’m down.”

You didn’t even grace him with a response, just walked ahead toward a quieter corner of the lobby.

Somewhere away from Shoko’s amused glances and his friends’ nosy stares. Once you both stopped near an empty hallway by the elevators, you turned around, arms crossed tightly.

“I want a divorce.”

Satoru raised his brows like you’d just told him you hated puppies. “You’re breaking up with me already?” he said. “We’ve had such a long and beautiful marriage. How could you throw it all away?”

You rolled your eyes hard enough to see the back of your head. “Don’t act like this is some tragic love story. We got drunk. We got married. And now we’re going to undo it.”

He shrugged lazily. “I mean… sure, we could get a divorce. But that sounds so… boring.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What does that mean?”

Satoru leaned against the wall like he had all the time in the world. “What if we didn’t? Just for a little while?”

You stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”

He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Look, my family’s been trying to marry me off for years. But if I tell them I’m already married? They’ll back off.”

You blinked. “So… you want me to just stay married to you so your parents leave you alone?”

Satoru grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself way too much for someone in a situation this ridiculous.

“Look, all you have to do is come live with me for a while,” he said, like he was offering you a vacation package instead of a life-altering decision. “We can sleep in separate rooms, act like a happily married couple for a few days—or weeks, maybe even months. Who knows, maybe even forever if you really want.” He winked.

You stared at him, deadpan. “You’re insane.”

“Probably,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m also charming. And think about it—what’s worse? A fake marriage or dealing with the paperwork and lawyers and whatever hell a Vegas divorce requires?”

You crossed your arms, still trying to wrap your head around it. “And what do I get out of this, huh?”

He leaned in, that cocky sparkle in his eyes never fading. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Name it.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Okay, I want to fly on a private jet to Hawaii, reserve the entire beach just for us, and stay in a mansion with a private chef who only cooks five-star meals.”

It was obviously a joke. Your tone was dripping with sarcasm, and you gave him a look that said get real.

“Deal,” Satoru said without missing a beat, already pulling out his phone.

You blinked at him. “Wait—what are you doing?”

He shrugged casually. “Booking our honeymoon.”

You squinted at him. “Satoru—”

He puts his phone back in his pocket, letting out a small laugh. “Relax, I know you’re kidding. I’m not clueless.”

You let out a sigh, that does sound fun, but doing all that with him sounds like hell. You bit your lip, trying to think if this was a good idea. Just act like a happy married couple, right? How hard can it be? It’ll only be for a couple of weeks, maybe months.

“Okay,” you mutter, feeling like you’re already selling your soul. “Fine, you’re gonna pay for my rent for six months.” Since you won’t be home for a while, might as well let him cover your rent.

His grin widened, that cocky gleam never leaving his eyes. “Done. Anything else? Designer wardrobe? Private chef? I’ve got options.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Are you serious? You think I want all that?”

Satoru shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just saying, I’m prepared for any request. You want the stars? I can get them for you.”

“Look, I’m not asking for a whole damn mansion or anything.” You shook your head, almost feeling like you were playing a game you didn’t agree to, but here you were. “Six months of rent is enough. We’re pretending to be married, not living in a fairy tale.”

“Fair enough,” Satoru said with a sly wink. “But if you change your mind about that private jet, just let me know.”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to snap at him. You couldn’t deal with this right now. As much as it felt like an impossible situation, it also seemed like the best option. A little fake happiness in exchange for your freedom. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You exhaled, eyes narrowing as you pointed a finger at him. “Just know—after all of this? You’re signing those divorce papers. No running. No cute speeches. Just your name and a signature.”

Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender, that playful glint never leaving his eyes. “Fine by me.” He leaned in just a bit, smirking. “Now that we’re all settled… can I get a kiss?”

You scoffed, walking away from him. “You can get lost.”

He chuckled behind you, voice smooth as ever. “So that’s a maybe?”

You rolled your eyes, already regretting every decision that led to this moment.

Satoru Gojo, the guy you married drunk in Vegas, asked you to fake a marriage with him.

What kind of rom-com nightmare had you just walked into?

taglist: @vehuzzzz @sleepykittyenergy @n1vi @nakiich @artbligh @miizuzu @seternic @luciferlikesducks @marjoryvamos @ratedrrrr @charlotterosea13 @shoruio @bananaminn @sexylexy12 @lilychan176 @yamato-my-beloved

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orangesaek · 8 days ago

Text

i don't want to be an idol

"As much as I love you, music is so important to me too, I can’t help it. After some time passes, after I become a bit more famous, I will reveal you to the world – I love you."

pairings: (ex-bf) idol!Mark x fem reader genre: mainly angst with a liiiiitle fluff wc: 2.1k

summary: you look back at the once-loving relationship you had with your ex-boyfriend, Mark Lee of NCT.

warnings: aside from angst, I honestly don't think there's anything else... but if you find something that needs a warning, please let me know!

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. do not copy, translate, or plagiarize any of my works! not proofread btw, so sorry for any misspellings/errors in grammar (but I will try to edit whatever I find that needs changing)

a/n: IT'S BEEN A LOOONG WHILE omg I've had this writer's block for so long, aside from dealing with life :') I hope everyone's doing well <3 anw, I wonder if anyone here knows VIXX's b-side "I Don't Want To Be An Idol"? lemme know <3 this story is (loosely) based on that song :')

You were mindlessly browsing through videos on Youtube to watch on TV one, lazy Monday, when you came across a suggested live video that made you feel things you thought you have long forgotten.

With some hesitation, you pressed on your remote to watch the said live video.

It was Mark Lee’s showcase for his first ever album, The Firstfruit.

You shifted carefully in your seat on the couch, trying to settle in a more comfortable position, as you watched Mark smile shyly on camera. ‘He must be really nervous’, you thought, noticing how he was sitting so still, unlike when he was with his members.

“So, Mark,” the host started. “Would you be willing to show us your ‘On Repeat’ playlist right now?”

“O-oh, yeah,” Mark laughed awkwardly before fishing out his phone from his pocket and tapping on it. The host smiled excitedly as he waited for Mark to show his phone to the camera.

“Okay… uhm, should I…? Just?” Mark asked the host, gesturing between his phone and the camera.

“Yes, if you’re ready to show your playlist to us.” The host chuckled, most probably because of how nervous Mark looked to him. Mark was looking down at his phone, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck before finally showing his screen to the camera. The cameraman zoomed in, and Mark looked up to check the big LED screens of the venue. It was the first time he ever showed his screen to the public, and he kinda regrets having said ‘yes’ to this.

The host turned in his seat to check the LED screen behind him. He expressed amusement at the list.

“As expected, you listen to many Western artists,” the host remarked. “Oh, and I think this one’s a worship song… wow.”

“Yeah, uhm, most of them are artists I look up to, while some are just songs that I deeply resonated with,” Mark explained, chuckling quite nervously. “But yeah, my ‘On Repeat’ playlist is honestly just random...”

The host hummed, nodding his head lightly, before tilting his head to the side seemingly in wonder. Mark noticed that, and he suddenly felt his hands get sweaty. The host turned back to look at Mark, who had now become slightly fidgety.

“Mark, would you mind showing us the upper half, too? If you don’t mind at all,” the host asked.

Fans watching his live showcase online noticed how Mark looked visibly uncomfortable and started flooding the comment section about it, hoping that whoever was in charge of the show would notice and ask the host to move on to another topic.

Fortunately, the production team read the comments and instructed the host through his in-ear to redirect the conversation. However, before the host could even think of a way to change the topic, Mark had already revealed his screen again to the camera.

“These are my top 10.” He said quietly into the microphone.

Various reactions were seen and heard from the fans at the venue after his screen was shown. A few excited screams were heard, but most of the reactions picked up on audio were gasps and whispers.

‘Is this real?’

‘It can’t be… what is this?’

‘Daebak…’

The host observed the fans’ reactions before looking at Mark, feeling unsure about what was happening. He hesitantly turned back in his seat to look at the LED screen and finally understood why there were mixed reactions in the crowd.

Before the host could turn back to look at Mark again, he heard one of the producers instruct him again through his in-ear to ask Mark one last question about the playlist and move on quickly to the next topic.

The host laughed quite awkwardly before turning back to Mark, clearing his throat in the process.

“So, uh, Mark,” he started, feeling quite unsure what to even ask him that wouldn’t cost him his job that day.

“Uh, we can definitely see how random your playlist is… we know that your mood and your music preferences change as time goes by, and there’s a high chance that you will have a new batch of songs on repeat,” the host paused, obviously trying to find the right words.

He briefly scanned the crowd before looking back at Mark in confusion. The host couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but Mark suddenly looked quite relaxed… relieved, even.

“But is there a song in this playlist you know would always be there?” He finally asked.

Mark was quite taken aback by the question but still smiled, albeit shyly. He put his phone back in his pocket and let out a sigh that was picked up by his microphone.

“A song that would always be there, huh?” He whispered into the microphone as he stared at the floor, looking like he was in deep thought.

“I think—no, actually,” he paused. Mark looked at the camera and showed a small smile.

“I choose VIXX-subaenim’s ‘I Don’t Want To Be An Idol’ as the song that would always be on this playlist.”

The host looked visibly confused; he wasn’t sure how he should approach this situation, which was evident in his voice when he asked Mark ‘why’.

Mark brought the microphone back up to his lips.

“Um…” he started, but paused for a moment, his mouth slightly open, like he already had an answer but decided against saying whatever it was, and was now thinking of the right words to say.

“It just resonated so much with me, as an idol in this fast-paced industry,” he answered, voice soft and sounding like he was in deep thought.

“When I first listened to this song, I wasn’t even an idol yet, so the lyrics didn’t even make sense to me… but when I officially entered this industry, I finally understood how deep the lyrics were…” he paused again before continuing, “I obviously can’t speak for every public figure on this planet, but for me, this song perfectly describes the reality of what dating can be like for a celebrity.”

The host’s expressions turned soft, seeing Mark in a new light. Sure, he may not be as popular as Mark, and he may not know what exactly Mark went through, but the host fully understood what he meant.

The host briefly looked at the fans, trying to gauge their reactions. As expected, there were some who looked quite upset, but the majority, based on what the host briefly saw, looked as if they also understood Mark’s words and sympathized. The host felt that it was the right time to move on from the topic and smoothly opened up a new discussion about his album.

Meanwhile, you were crying in front of the TV. You could barely hear what they were even talking about now as you tried to wipe away the tears that just never seemed to stop flowing down your cheeks.

You were confused, not really sure why you were crying in the first place.

Was it because you were happy for Mark to have finally had the chance to release an album he always dreamed of? To have finally had the chance to release the drafts that were long sitting in his laptop?

Or was it because you were reminded of your memories with him? The ones you forcibly kept hidden in the farthest back of your mind?

You were reminded of the day you first met him, and how your unexpected friendship turned into a relationship. A secret one, which you readily accepted.

You were reminded of how his warm hand fit yours perfectly like a puzzle piece, and how he’d always look at you lovingly when he kissed the back of your hand.

You were reminded of those times he would come over to your apartment and insist on cooking something for you. Most of the time, you would both end up having to order food instead because Mark can do anything but cook. But it’s the thought that counts, right?

You were reminded of how he would sigh in content whenever you would run your fingers through his hair when you’re cuddling, and how he actually loved being the small spoon.

You were reminded of how soft his lips were, and how gentle he touched you, like you were going to break if he was any less gentle.

He brought so much happiness to your life.

But you were also reminded of how he would send you flowers and gifts as an apology for not being with you on your birthdays and anniversaries.

How you never had a proper date outside of your apartment, in fear of being seen. Even a quick date at the cafe near your apartment would be too risky.

You were reminded of how you couldn’t rely on him during the times you needed him the most because he’s almost always working. One day, you’re breathing the same air. The next, he’s already overseas. You couldn’t even reach out to him anytime and had to always wait for him to do it first.

You realized how difficult it was for you to keep up with him. He’s Mark Lee afterall, one of the idols with the craziest schedules in the industry for years now.

And that’s why you broke up with him.

You saw how he begged for you to stay, and you could see how deeply hurt he was. He did things he didn’t usually do when you were still together.

He called you daily for weeks. Calls you never answered.

He texted you daily for months, asking how you were, how your day was, and if he could see you even for just 5 minutes. Texts you answered with a few words, but mostly ignored.

You would see random gifts on your doorstep that always came with heartfelt love letters from him.

There were even times when you would receive emails from him with attachments; they were songs he recorded for you, saying that he meant each and every word.

You can’t lie—the thought of getting back with him did cross your mind before. How could you not? His idol status aside, Mark was genuinely a good person. There was not a single bad bone in his body. And you did feel that his love for you was sincere.

But you solidified your resolve to let him go forever after you decided to meet up with him one last time. He got down on his knees and begged for you to take him back. He said that things are looking up for him, and that he would be able to treat you so much better. He said that he was willing to do anything and everything to make you happy, even if that means he will have to give up his career for you.

That was it.

You couldn’t let Mark give up on his career just for you. He worked so hard to get to where he is now, and giving it all up for you was just not worth it. Mark was obviously meant for the stage, and he was meant to inspire and give hope to everyone who looked up to him.

You wanted only the best for him. He deserved all the good things in life, you wanted him to be happy.

And so, with tears brimming your eyes, you told him to forget about you and move on. You left him without turning back, afraid that if you did, your resolve would crumble and you’d take him back right then and there.

It had already been quite some time since your relationship ended, and seeing him on the news, interviews, print ads, TV commercials, magazine features, LED ads in the city, or hearing one of their songs playing in stores while out shopping didn’t affect you that much anymore.

“Honey, I never thought I’d see you cry because of some guy on TV.” a voice behind you asks, chuckling lightheartedly. You sniffled as you hurriedly wiped your tears away.

It was your husband.

“It must be little peanut over here causing all this.” you said as you pointed to your belly. Your husband then plops himself beside you on the couch, gently rubbing circles on your baby bump.

“Aigoo~ is it really because of you, our little peanut?” he coos affectionately before his attention was taken away by the TV as he watched Mark perform one of the songs in his album.

“Who is he?” he asks.

“Mark Lee...” you answered quietly. It has been a while since you said his name out loud, and it felt strange but familiar to you at the same time.

“Mark Lee, huh? He’s pretty good, gotta give him that!” your husband commented, “That must be why you like him?”

‘Actually… I loved him with all my heart’, you thought, but you just nodded quietly. You looked at your husband, who was bobbing his head lightly to the music, and smiled to yourself before engulfing him in a hug. You looked at Mark on the TV.

‘I’m proud of you, Mark Lee. Always.’ you thought, as a final tear for him rolled down your cheek.

#mark lee fanfic #nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct u #kpop #mark lee #nct 127 #nct mark #nct angst #vixx #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct mark lee #mark nct #lee minhyung #nct mark scenarios

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moonyysgirl · 1 month ago

Note

i NEED another loser!dealer!remus x reader PLEAK 🙏

ask and you shall receive !! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I'm the only one who can touch you - Remus Lupin x reader

paring; remus x fem!dealer summary; dealer!remus and reader meets at a party after hooking up cw; smut, dealer!remus, loser!remus, jealous!remus, remus is giving subby kinda, semi-public kink, both reader and remus are intoxicated

A week had passed since you and Remus made out and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. He would make eye contact with you in the hallways and you would blush and try to keep your cool while listening to your friends talk, oblivious of what happened.

You wanted to speak to him, you wanted to spend time with him, you just wanted to be in his presence really, but you didn’t know how. You weren’t brave enough to go and speak to him in front of everyone, in front of his friends, or yours.

It was so hard and frustrating to sit in front of him in the classes you had together. His scent intoxicating you, your thighs squirming together remembering the feeling of his hands on you. Everyone unaware of your secret, you and him the only ones knowing.

When you heard about this house party you were honestly relieved, you wanted to have some fun and maybe get a little tipsy to distract yourself from Remus and really even from your ex, that was still so present in your thoughts, making you sad and regretful after realizing it was the biggest waste of your time.

And also, you knew Remus was going to be there, cause he didn’t miss a single party: he was always there selling stuff. You had him in mind while getting ready. You wore a tight shirt, with long loose sleeves, a short pleated skirt -without tights, as he liked- and a pair of black docs.

The party was at one of your classmate’s house, he would always host parties cause he had a huge house and his parents were often away for the weekend. You arrived late after pregaming with your friends, the music already blasting, the backyard crowded with little groups smoking in circles and throwing themselves in the heated pool.

You spotted the rest of your group, sitting around the fire pit on the patio. You went up to them, and you were greeted with enthusiasm. You decided to go inside to greet some friends and maybe take a couple of shots.

Your heart dropped when you spotted your ex in the crowd, talking to his friends. You were going back outside when you heard his voice calling you. You sighed deeply, your chest filling with dread.

“Hey y/n!” You could see he was a little tipsy “hi” “how you’re doing” you shrugged “fine” “I’m happy to hear, you know, I’m still upset about everything that happened” “right, yeah, no, I know” there was a moment of silence, your eyes wandering in search of a way out of that conversation.

“Hey, you wanna take a shot?” He asked suddenly, everything about him was so odd, you gritted your teeth and just nodded, hoping that he would leave you alone after that. He picked a couple of shot cups from the counter filling them with vodka.

You inhaled deeply before chugging the shot in one sip. The bitter liquid burning your throat, a syrupy stripe falling down the side of your lip. Your ex boyfriend smiled at you, his thumb brushing your lip, cleaning it up.

You flinched, squirming away from his touch “what is it?” He asked “Nothing, it’s just…” “do you want to take a walk?” You sighed “listen, it was nice to see you, but I think it’s better if I go back outside, the girls are waiting for me”

He shrugged “who cares, just lemme- you shook your head “I don’t want to okay? You were always so shitty to me and i don’t want any thing more to do with you.” You snapped before walking away from him, without looking at his reaction.

You made yourself a drink before going back out, filling a plastic cup with vodka and peach tea. As you took a sip you realized the drink was almost all vodka, the faint peach flavor completely covered. You sighed, who cared anyway.

You plopped on a chair in between of your friends. They were laughing and talking about some old story. You swallowed the sadness that was clouding up your eyes, looking at the flames moving slowly in an hypnotizing dance. You could feel your legs getting warmer and weaker as the alcohol started circling in your system.

You lighted up a cigarette, to help the alcohol work, and as you lifted your gaze to watch the people on the backyard you spotted him. On that couch on the grass, slouched on the cushions, getting stoned with his friends.

Your breath hitched. For how long was he there? Did he see you? Did his friends knew about you? You took a long drag, your eyes glued on him. He was wearing an old loose sweater, the sleeves stretched out on his hands, baggy jeans, and a pair of beaten up sneakers.

He looked incredibly hot. And he noticed you. Your heart skipped a bit as you watched his gaze wander on your figure. You looked away, then looked at him again, your eyes meeting. He took a drag of his joint before passing it to his friend and standing up.

You didn’t need him to do anything else. You said to your friends that you needed to go to the bathroom and you stood up too, realizing in that moment that the alcohol was getting up to you. You felt slightly light headed and your legs were weak.

You stabilized yourself before you started walking towards Remus, following him. You followed him inside, navigating through the sweaty bodies of teenagers dancing and drinking. He then went outside again, to a less crowded part of the backyard, far from the pool and the patio. There were a couple of trees and a kids’ trampoline.

The music was muffled in that area of the backyard, an old summer hit was playing in the distance, you could faintly hear some people singing along inside, or maybe on the other side of the backyard.

Remus was leaning on a tree lighting up a cigarette. You went up to him “hey” “hi” “Can I have a hit?” He passed the cigarette to you “what’s up” he shrugged, his eyes were red for the weed “fine I guess” you nodded slowly “how long have you been here?” “Not much, you?” “Yeah, me neither”.

You passed the cigarette back to him, searching for something to say “I saw you actually” he said while smoking, not looking at you “you did?” he nodded “yeah, you were with your ex” your heart fell to your stomach.

“I thought you hated him or something” he said “I do hate him” “yeah? You two seemed pretty close when I saw you” you sighed, you had the worst luck ever. “No, I was just trying to get him to leave me alone actually” Remus looked up at you “you was?”

You nodded “yeah, he’s clingy all of a sudden and won’t let me live in peace apparently” Remus nodded slowly “so that’s why you were taking shots with him?” “Yeah, actually, so then he would leave me alone” Remus took another drag and shrugged.

“Yeah, okay, I kinda figured that it was something like that” you smiled “you did huh?” “Actually yeah” he said taking the last drag of his cig “right” you couldn’t help but smile, amused by his interest in you.

“Do you wanna get high or you’d prefer getting more shots of cheap alcohol?” you smiled from ear to ear “let’s get high” he grinned “that’s what I thought” he said before throwing away the cig and climbing the trampoline stairs.

“What are you doing?” “This is the best spot in this house, don’t you know?” Remus said taking off his sneakers and getting on the trampoline. You shook your head in amusement, climbing to the stairs “you may want to take your shoes off” you smiled and started untying your boots.

You finally got on the trampoline. Remus was laying on his back, you did the same and laied down next to him. Your arms slightly touching. You felt safe in there. The trampoline was surrounded by a net, making the sky the only visible thing from that angle.

Remus opened his pack of cigarettes and he pulled a pre-rolled joint out. “When I rolled this I had you in mind” you couldn’t help but smile “you did?” “Yeah, I was actually hoping I would have a smoke with some cool girl tonight” you blushed violently. Your heart beating faster.

“It’s so cozy in here” you said, trying to change the subject. “Yeah, it’s the best place in this house, I told you” he responded lighting up the spliff. “How did you know?” he shrugged “I spent here a lot of Friday nights” “you did?” “Yeah, I needed to get that bag you know” you laughed.

“So I’m interfering with the business or something?” Remus took a long drag “no, it’s fine, my boys got me” “oh, so they cover your shift at every party while you hit on girls?” You teased, Remus laughed “I never hit on girls, especially at parties” “mhh, right” “I swear, I’m very business focused!”

“So I am interfering” he shrugged “yeah, I guess, but I can make an exception for you.” You smiled, your cheeks burning. Your legs were getting closer to his, your knees were touching. You could feel the excitement growing.

“So, how was this week?” He asked taking another drag “fine, kinda boring” “no shit, you hang out with lames” you smile “come on, they’re not lames, they’re just…different from me” “yeah, right” he said passing the joint to you.

You already felt light-headed for the alcohol, was it a good idea to also smoke? “Are you okay?” “Yeah, it’s just-maybe I shouldn’t, I already drank a bit” “it’s fine if you don’t want to” you shrugged “but I also want to get high with you”

Remus grinned “wait, we can try a thing” he said sitting up “what?” “Sit in front of me” you did, your eyes locking with his, they were half lidded, red, sleepy. They made him look hotter. “Come closer” you did so, your knees tangling together.

“Closer” he repeated, his tone was warm and low, you did as he said, you were know extremely close, you could feel his breath on your lips. He took the longest drag, inhaling deeply.

Then he grasped at your chin and pressed your lips together. Your heart skipped a bit as you parted your lips further and Remus exhaled the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled, the smoke swirling down your throat, making your head immediately lighter.

“How was it?” Remus spoke softly, your lips still grazing his. You smiled “I think I’ll need another couple of hits to get high” Remus snickered, taking another long drag. He repeated the process, your lips getting wetter, your core getting warmer.

After some time the joint was practically finished, you were dazed and your brain felt fuzzy. Remus looked as high as you. You started making out, messily and sloppily, the smell of marijuana intoxicating you, Remus scent getting to your head.

He laid down, you got on top of him, your hipbones locking together. He looked up to you, smiling, his warm hands caressing your naked thighs “aren’t you cold?” You shrugged “not really” he kissed you

“I’m lucky then” he whispered on your lips “cause I love groping these thighs” his hands brushed on your ass “and this ass” you felt the excitement pooling in your panties, you rolled your hips into his

He sucked the soft skin of your neck, kissing the plum colored bruises that were already forming. “I wanted to kill him” he mumbled suddenly “who?” You asked breathing heavily, your lips on his neck, your hands in his ashy blond locks.

“That asshole” he responded, his hands caressing your hips “when I saw him touching your lips” you blushed “it wasn’t- he hushed you up with another kiss “I’m the only one who can touch you” he said against your parted lips. You could feel your core getting warmer.

You leaned down to kiss him again, he squirmed away “no, say it” you sighed “say what” “that I’m the only one who can touch you” he whispered, his breath on your neck, your heart beating faster.

“Say it, come on” he mumbled on your lips, his hips bucking to meet yours, his erection pressing to your heated core. You started grinding on his lap, pressing your lips to his again. He gripped your hips, making you unable to move, you whined.

“You have to say it” he said, his hands on your hips, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “I would pay to see his face, if he ever knew that this loser gets to be the only one to touch you” You whined again, your hips trying to move, desperate for some friction.

“That his touch disgust you” he continued, his lips grazing the skin of your neck “and mine makes you melt” he said, his fingers sliding down your skirt, grazing your clothed core, the soft fabric of your panties completely soaked, you whimpered.

“If he knew, that I can make you so soaked for me, just by kissing you” he whispered, your thighs slightly squirming “say it, come on” you smiled “I’ll say it, but then I’ll be the one who gets to touch you” you said, your hand palming at his erection teasingly.

Remus swallowed, his breath slightly shaking “alright, say it” you smiled, leaning down on his face, your mouth close to his ear. “You’re the only one who can touch me” you whispered softly, Remus inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

You sat up. Your core on his lap. You palmed at his bulge, your hand reaching to unbuckle the belt. Remus whined “wait” you looked at him “Nobody ever…” you smiled “touched you? Yeah, nobody touched me either before you” he frowned in confusion “but with- “I only ever touched him, I wasn’t ready for him to…” Remus gaze softened, he bit his lip.

You unbuttoned his pants, teasing him, palming at his dick from his boxers. He whined. You smiled, and kissed him again. You started making out. Your tongues swirling together, your hand massaging his clothed length, the boxers sticky with precum.

He bucked his hips, you smiled on his lips. You moved his boxers down, his dick sprung out. It was big, swollen, the tip already leaking pre cum. You spread it on the head, Remus let out a loud whine, you smiled “shhh” you pressed your lips to his, your hand slowly going up and down his length.

Remus whimpered, you picked up the pace, your core growing impossibly warmer and wetter, humping remus' lap. You rolled your hips on him while pumping your hand up and down his length.

You started sucking Remus neck, while he moaned softly with pleasure. “Oh my god” he whispered, his voice shaky. His eyes were closed shut, he whined. You started going faster, as you could feel yourself getting more and more aroused.

Remus opened his eyes, looking at you rolling your hips, a moan escaping from your lips, he grinned, his shaky fingers reaching your panties, pulling them to the side to maximize the friction on the rough fabric of his unbottoned jeans. You started moving faster, your hand pumping his length viciously.

Remus moaned “wait, I’m gonna cum” he whined, you rolled your hips on him, feeling yourself getting closer too “Jesus- fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You smiled, as you felt yourself reach the climax “you can cum, come on, cum for me” he grabbed your waist, his fingers pressing on your soft skin.

He pulled yourself down, his lips pressing with yours, your tongues swirling together. “Fuck!” He whined, his hips bucking into yours. You felt your orgasm wash over you, and as you moaned on his lips you felt Remus body contract under yours in pleasure.

You sat up again, your legs shaky as you were still coming down from your high, you pumped two more times before Remus came with a loud whine, hot strings of warm cum leaking from his tip, covering your fingers.

You brought your hand to your mouth, licking your sticky fingers clean, Remus watched you with lust-filled eyes and burning cheeks, biting his lip hard “fuck” he whispered. You helped him tuck his dick in his boxers again, and then you kissed him softly.

You got off his lap and laied down next to him again. Laying on your side, you watched his side profile, his chest going up and down fast, he was breathing heavily, still shaken by the orgasm. You could feel some rap music playing in the background, some boys were drunkly screaming the lyrics.

You sat up “we should go, my friends are probably looking for me” he snickered “are you gonna tell them that you did a handjob to the stoned loser they don’t like on the trampoline outside?” You smiled “come on, let’s go, you have some business to go back to” he laughed “right”