#how to win your ex boyfriend back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nadvs · 4 months ago

Text

sleeping with the enemy (one-shot)

pairing basketballplayer! rafe cameron x cheerleader! female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary after getting dumped by the captain of the basketball team you cheer for, you find revenge in the form of rafe cameron, your ex-boyfriend’s worst enemy.

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» all blurbs in this au

“How bad is it that I want us to lose?” you mutter, fiddling with your pompoms as you stand courtside.

“Against them?” Your friend looks out at group of athletes in red warming up for the game. “Pretty bad.”

The rivalry between the Hawks and the Wolves is one of the most vicious in college basketball history. You proudly cheered for your team up until a couple of nights ago, when the Hawks power forward dumped you over text.

Your relationship with Max had been relatively new, lasting just over a month. Still, it pissed you off that he didn’t have the respect to break up face-to-face.

The worst part of it was that he was trying to convince you to sleep with him for the first time the night before he ended things. He got frustrated and left your dorm in a huff. Then, he texted you that he isn’t looking for a relationship.

You’re sure it was his plan to get you in bed then bail all along, but he gave up once he got too impatient.

You wanted to take things slow. You thought maybe you could have something real with him. What a waste of time.

Now, as you stand on the sidelines of your college’s basketball court, the tension is palpable as both teams warm up for another game against their worst enemies. The crowds’ conversations loudly blend into a dull murmur in the stands behind you.

“I don’t think it’s bad at all,” the cheerleader on your other side chimes in. “Max is a jerk. He deserves to lose.”

You scowl at your ex as he rushes through a running drill on the other side of the loud gym. You had told your close friends on the squad about what happened. They may hate him even more than you do.

You glance at the opposite side of the court where the visiting team is warming up. You spot player #10, Cameron sprawled over the back of his red jersey, as he runs warm-up passes with one of his teammates.

Max loathes him. And it’s not just because of the college’s long-standing rivalry. Your ex told you countless times what an asshole Rafe is and how much he trash-talks on the court.

Regardless, you could see it for yourself. Rafe taunts his opponents. He laughs in their faces when his team wins. He never shakes hands at the end of a game. He even shoved Max a few times, earning fouls.

You realize you’re staring at Rafe when his teammate misses a pass, sending the ball rolling towards you.

You’re so angry at Max that you almost want to wish Rafe luck when he comes near, picking up the ball off the glossy floor.

His gaze flashes at you as he straightens, and when you notice his blue eyes trail down your body, your skin pricks with heat. You’re sure you see a hint of a smirk on Rafe’s face before he turns around.

You probably shouldn’t be excited that your side of the rivalry’s most hated athlete is looking at you like that. But you’re not feeling particularly loyal to your team right now.

A loud whistle blows through the gym. The game is starting.

In Rafe’s mind, the only bad thing about basketball is that the sport has no tolerance for scrapping. Aggression is part of football. It’s encouraged in hockey. But the foul system in basketball is stupid. He never gave a fuck about sportsmanlike conduct.

He could have considered other sports, but he’s a natural at this. He has the height and agility and confidence for this sport. It’s what made him captain after his first year as a shooting guard.

Rafe paces to the center of the court for the coin toss, staring down at his opponent. Max Hammond’s always been easy to fuck with.

And honestly, it pisses Rafe off that lately, he’s seen the cheerleader on his rivals’ team that he’s been eyeing all season on Max’s arm. All the more reason to fuck with him.

“How’s that knee?” Rafe taunts. Their last game, he dunked over Max hard enough to send him hurling to the floor. Rafe laughed when he saw his opponent clutching his knee.

“Shut up,” Max mutters with a scowl. Rafe smiles pompously. Then, he wins the coin toss.

You halfheartedly chant through the cheers you’ve memorized when the game starts. The players rush up and down the court, shoes squeaking against the floor, sweat sheening their skin.

It feels weird keeping your gaze off of Max. You used to follow him with lovestruck eyes throughout every game. If only you knew what a douche he’d turn out to be.

So, for this game, you watch Rafe. You shouldn’t feel so satisfied every time he pushes past Max and earns a point for the rivals you’re supposed to be booing, but you do.

Shadows move with the edges of Rafe’s muscles under the bright gym lights. His lips are parted as he rushes down the court, feet moving quickly, hands controlling the ball with expert precision.

When the game ends with a loss for the Hawks, you’re not all that upset. Mainly because Max looks so devastated.

Afterwards, you decide to go out to a local bar with a few of your friends. You want to let loose. Maybe you’ll even find a meaningless hook-up. After the mess with Max, you want some fun, and you’re definitely not up for looking for any sort of emotional connection.

Both college campuses aren’t far apart, so the bars and clubs in town often see an overlap of students. Most people don’t care about the rivalry, especially when they’re off-campus.

But the athletes and cheerleaders never allow the tension to dissipate, especially after a game. The winners are always loud and celebratory, while the losers stare daggers at their enemies. Tonight’s no different.

The bar is dark and packed and loud and humid, your fingers wrapped around an emptied glass as you sit at a table with a couple of your friends.

When Max walks into the bar, unease rolls through you. You wonder how long it’ll take for you not to be so frustrated by his presence.

He finds seats across the bar with a few of the other Hawks players. One of your friends notices your discomfort and follows your eye-line.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks.

“No.” You’re determined not to let Max ruin your night. “I’m getting another drink.”

After making sure your friends don’t want a second drink just yet, which only serves as a reminder of how fast you downed yours, you drift over to the bar.

You find an open pocket in the crowd and you squeeze through, your hands resting on the hard edge of the bar top. You watch the bartender take orders, not yet aware of you.

You sigh to yourself, drumming your fingers, hoping you’re just one more drink away from feeling better.

Rafe watches the stranger beside him fidget impatiently. When he looks up from your tapping fingers, he realizes you’re not a stranger at all.

You’re the cheerleader he’s always checking out. The one who’s been on Max’s arm after games. But he usually sees you wearing a big smile, and there’s nothing happy about the way you look right now.

You can see from the corner of your eye that the person beside you is looking at you. You meet Rafe’s gaze, blinking a few times to make sure it’s really him.

You’re a bit embarrassed, considering you’d stared at him through tonight’s game. He’s in a dark t-shirt instead of the jersey you’re used to seeing him in. You can tell that is hair is just a bit damp, surely from the shower he took after the game.

You try not to think about him in the shower.

Rafe takes you in, the way your lips purse before you speak.

“You played well,” you say.

Rafe’s lids lower. You’re wearing a dress even shorter than the little cheerleading skirt he’s used to seeing you in.

“Me?” he drawls, his lips curling up in a surprised smirk.

You meet his eyes for longer this time, nodding at him with an indifferent expression.

“Aren’t you Hammond’s girl?” he says, clearly amused, a contrast from how angry you’ve heard him on the court.

You’re surprised that he knows you were dating Max. Maybe he noticed you more often than you thought.

“Nope,” you mutter. You tell him you have a name, then give him it.

Rafe’s eyes continue to travel over you, his pulse quickening as he takes you in. He knew you were hot, but he never got a chance to really look at you up close.

How the hell did Hammond fuck things up with you? He needs to know so he won’t make the same mistake.

“What happened?” he murmurs.

“With Max?” you ask. “He’s a dick.”

“Could’ve told you that.” You watch Rafe slightly tip his head back as he takes a drag of his beer.

“Really? I’ve heard the same about you,” you say. You realize you might be more tipsy that you thought once your brazen words spill out of your mouth.

“And what, you think it’s true?” Rafe asks with his eyes on your lips.

“I don’t know. You get fouled more than any player I’ve seen.”

Rafe huffs a breathy chuckle, obviously nowhere near offended by your words. He actually seems flattered.

Out of instinct, your eyes dart to the table you saw Max sitting at. His gaze is fixed on you. He’s likely shocked that you’re talking to someone you’re supposed to hate.

Rafe turns to see what you’re looking at. He smirks when he notices just how pissed off Max looks. He turns his attention back at you.

“Your boyfriend’s pissed,” Rafe says, a hint of mocking in his voice.

“I already told you that he’s not my boyfriend. And I couldn’t care less if he’s mad that I’m talking to you,” you answer, crossing your arms. Blue eyes dart down to your cleavage.

“So, you’re not using me to get back at him?” he teases.

“I didn’t even know you were here,” you say. “But it’s not a bad idea.”

Rafe cocks his head, his tongue jutting under his cheek. Getting to flirt with a hot girl and annoying someone he hates at the same time is a win-win situation.

“What can I get you?” you hear. You look over at the bartender and regain your composure to order your drink.

“Put it on my tab,” Rafe tells him. He watches your lashes flutter when you meet his eyes again.

“Thanks,” you say, lips lifting into a smile. You’ve been so deep in your anger that you haven’t realized that Rafe could be the meaningless hook-up you’re looking for tonight.

“That’s the first time you smiled since you came over here,” he notices.

“I’m in a pretty bad mood,” you admit.

“What’d he do?” Rafe asks, tilting his head back to Max.

“Probably something you do to girls all the time,” you say boldly. “He made me think he wanted a relationship, but turns out, he just wanted to get laid.”

Rafe’s eyes glint with something you haven’t seen in him under the muted bar lights. For a split second, his guard goes down.

“You think I do that?”

“Am I wrong?” you challenge. His laugh is dry and humorless. He leans closer to you, his cologne cool and sharp as he towers over you.

“You are,” he says.

The tension between you hardens. You stare up at him.

“Okay,” you say. At this point, you’re jaded and uninterested in dancing around the subject. “So, what do you do?”

You lift your glass to take a sip. Rafe watches the way your lips lock around the straw. He’s entranced by you, by how straightforward you are.

“I’m upfront that I’m not looking for a girlfriend,” he says. “I don’t have to play games.”

You know he’s being honest. Someone that looks as good as he does definitely doesn’t have to manipulate his way into sex.

“What are you looking for, then?” you ask.

“Fun,” Rafe replies. “And I think you need some fun, too.”

You feel your blood go hot. He’s right. This man and the no-strings-attached sex he’s proposing is exactly what you need right now.

You lock eyes with him as you swallow the last sip of your drink and put it on the bar with a clack.

“I do,” you answer.

When Rafe asks you if you want to go over to his place, you don’t need to even think about it.

You let your friends know you’re leaving and you follow Rafe out, his hand finding yours, callouses from his training hard over his palm.

It’s all such a thrill. The way Rafe looks at you. The promise of casual sex with him. The glare of your ex-boyfriend as you leave. And the fact that you completely forgot about how this started as revenge on Max because you’re so tangled up in the feeling Rafe is giving you.

When you step into Rafe’s single dorm, he crosses the small room to switch on the desk lamp, casting a dim glow over the space.

You notice a few toiletries scattered on top of his dresser, his jersey slung over the back of his chair. This is technically enemy territory, but you couldn’t care less.

It’s quite bare and not very lived in, but you didn’t expect him to be the type who cares to decorate.

“I’m guessing you’re not in here all that much,” you say, leaning against the door once it shuts behind you.

“You finally got something right about me,” Rafe replies, earning a giggle from you. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Come here.”

His dominance, not just through his words but by the way he takes up space so confidently, makes arousal swirl in your stomach. You settle beside him, the mattress shifting with your weight.

“Are you always this bossy?” you ask.

Rafe takes in your pretty features. This might be one of the best nights he’s had. He played a great game, won against the team he hates most, and the girl he’s been eyeing all season is sitting on his bed.

“Right again,” he says. Now that you left the crowds and music back in the bar, his deep voice cutting through silence reverberates through you.

You breathe a quiet laugh. You first approached him feeling so bitter, but just like that, he turned your mood around.

His eyes trail the hemline of your dress. You watch as he places his hand over your thigh, moving slowly, his thumb stroking just below where the fabric of your dress ends.

Rafe’s skin is hot, his hand heavy, and your heart-rate quickens in a second.

“You know how distracting you are?” he rasps, recalling the countless times he saw you by the court as you danced around in your skimpy outfit.

“What?” you ask.

“It’s so fucking hard to focus on playing when you’re there.”

Your breath hitches as he leans in closer, his nose brushing against yours. You had no idea you’d caught his attention before tonight, but by the sound of it, this isn’t the first time he’s looked at you through lustful eyes.

When his lips capture yours, he squeezes your thigh, firm fingers sinking into your flesh. He kisses you again and again and again, every time deeper than the last, tongues meeting with heated ardency.

You let out a moan so soft when he bites your bottom lip that he takes your hand from where it’s resting to the bulge in his jeans, showing you how hard he is for you.

Your body flushes even hotter when you feel him, gently starting to stroke him over the denim.

Your phone buzzes loudly in your purse, vibrating in a rhythmic pattern you recognize as a call.

Rafe shifts back, his mouth an inch away from yours.

“You don’t have to get that, do you?” His tone signifies more of a statement than a question.

You pull out your phone, confused over who would call you now. You grimace when you see Max’s photo on your screen.

Rafe notices. You breathe out a quiet laugh of surprise when takes your phone, hitting “Message” and sending She’s busy, then declining the call.

You feel each other’s smiles under your kiss, this time moving even faster. Rafe drags his hand higher under your dress and inhales sharply once you instinctually spread your legs, allowing him to feel you.

The pressure of his fingers rubbing over your panties makes you ache.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” he rasps against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He pushes the fabric to the side, feeling how slick and soft you are.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet already,” Rafe groans, enjoying the ego trip from knowing he got you like this so quickly. His lips trail to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin as he glides between your folds, tracing circles.

He shifts, losing contact with you for a moment to pull your dress off. When he sees you in just your bra and underwear, he nearly grunts in frustration from not being inside you already.

His hold on your hips is so firm it hurts as he guides you onto your back. Hovering over you, Rafe pulls his t-shirt off with urgency. Your lips quirk into a smile at how impatient and hungry he is.

You find the button of his jeans, quickly pulling it through the loop. He does the rest, unzipping and throwing his pants onto the floor. He stands to find a condom in his nightstand, tossing it beside you.

You run your hands over the curve of his muscular back when he lowers to grind over you, his cock hard and twitching.

When Rafe feels your thighs squeeze around him, he tells himself to slow his breathing, almost worried he won’t last long. This doesn’t happen to him. Ever.

But then again, he’s never craved a girl this badly, for this long. Having you under him like this, bucking your hips because you want it just as bad, is unreal.

He roughly pulls the cup of your bra down, closing his wet mouth over your nipple, earning a shudder from you. As he flicks his tongue, he shifts to pull down his boxers.

You take off your panties beneath him, squirming out of them, watching him sit up and roll the condom over his length.

“You gonna show me how good you can take it?” he mumbles, leaning over you again. You meet heavy-lidded blue eyes as he holds himself up over you, biting your lip and nodding.

The world stops spinning when he pushes into you, filling you.

“Fuck,” he groans against your cheek as you squeeze him. “Even better than I thought.”

You tilt your head back and moan, taking all of him, stretching as he buries deeper and deeper, dazed at the fact that he feels so good, that he clearly fantasized about this before.

Rafe bottoms out and you dig your nails into his shoulder blades as he pulls back and thrusts into you harder, his breath hot on your skin.

You wrap your limbs around him as tight as you can as he starts to rock his hips at a faster pace. He puts his lips on yours again, your kisses wet and hungry.

The sounds of his skin slamming against yours and your disjointed, shallow breaths fill the room, making you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure.

Your moans get louder as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten. Rafe starts pounding even faster and harder when he feels you fluttering around his cock.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he murmurs, shifting lower to put more of his weight on you, his fingers finding the roots of your hair. “You gonna come for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes.”

You tremble beneath him as you fall into your orgasm, holding your breath for a second before letting go. What finally sends him over the edge is when you moan his name.

Rafe comes with a low, drawn out groan, his thrusts quicker and sloppier, hips stuttering against yours. He stays inside you for a bit, his head buzzing as he comes back down from the high.

You sit up in his bed once he stands, your pulse still fast. You watch him pull his boxers back on, his skin shining with sweat.

You spot your underwear on his crumpled duvet and slide them on after fixing your bra.

You decide not to put your dress back on yet, shifting his pillow to sit back on the headboard, finding where he tossed your phone after he texted your ex for you.

You watch Rafe lean down to open the door of the mini-fridge on the floor. He pulls out a bottle and tilts his head back as he swallows down water.

The image of his tall, muscular, half-naked frame in the middle of his room, his jaw sharp as he tips his head back, his numbered jersey hanging off the back of his chair right next to him, is too nice not to capture.

You take a photo of the sight, the bottom half of your bare legs in the frame. Rafe hands you the cold bottle and as you take it in your hand, you show him your screen.

“Like it?” you say, still dazed.

He grins, dimples dipping into his cheeks, as he sinks onto the bed on his knees to sit beside you.

“You posting that?” he asks. You can tell he’s pleased by the idea, so you share it on your Snap story with the caption Post-workout.

Minutes later, the replies from your friends flood in.

IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

omfg this is WILD

actually diabolical lmaoooo

Max’s message is the most satisfying of the bunch: Are you serious right now?? Call me back.

You shift to grab your dress off the floor. You’re never calling him. He lost his chance.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” you say, standing to pull your dress on.

“You know how distracted on the court I’ll be now?” Rafe mumbles, earning a laugh from you. “Let me get your number.”

You enter your number into his phone and smooth down your hair in his mirror.

Casual, easy pleasure. This is just what you needed and you found it in Rafe Cameron of all people. You look back at him as you put your purse over your shoulder.

“We’ll do this again,” Rafe says, drinking you in. That was mind-blowing. It can’t be the only time he does this with you.

“Bossy,” you agree with a smile. You slip out of his room, your legs weak and wobbly.

You’ll be sore tomorrow. And the cheerleaders and athletes who take the rivalry seriously might even give you shit for what you did tonight. But it was all worth it. You’d do it all over again.

(continuation blurbs)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron smut

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captainreecejames · 4 months ago

Text

Miss Movin On || My Ex is a Footballer CL16 Edition

links [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [series update with more footballers]

summary your ex is engaged and you haven't moved on, or have you?

pairings ex!federico chiesa x reader, charles leclerc x reader faceclaim benedetta porcaroli

warnings cursing, mentions of austria 24

notes lol this is kinda short but my head has been hurting for the past few days so I haven't been able to do much. Fernando Alonso's my ex is the next one I'm working on.

yn's instagram messages -----

yn's messages -----

twitter ------

ynusername posted a story -------

ynusername posted ---------

liked by carmenmmundt, arthurleclerc and others

ynusername me and the bestie tagged opheliamillaiss

load more comments

opheliamillaiss ti amo ynnie! i love you ynnie ↳ ynusername sei bellessima you are beautiful

username1 i HAVE seen two pretty best friends

username7 she's trying to distract us from her story ↳ username8 yn, babe, who was the man??

username2 why is arthur leclerc lurking in the likes? ↳ username3 was it him in the story? ↳ username2 no i don't think so ↳ username3 your're right, looked more like charles

username4 girl it's time to move on ↳ username5 she posts about her friend and you guys are mentioning chiesa! can't make anyone happy here

username6 thoughts on the euros? ↳ ynusername :(((

yn's whatsapp messages -------

"unofficial official drivers group chat"

charlie now accepting caption ideas for my post about yn

ynnie charles no

max emilian charles yes

ynnie max no

danny ric max yes

landotd max no

ynnie lol not the norstappen breakup drama

landotd you made this my name didn't you

ynnie well... yes you did say it was better than the actual trophy 🤷‍♀️

landotd you make me want to say max yes

ynnie lmao telling the f1 girlies that I'm the reason yall are getting back together

charlie and none of you are helping me with the caption

frenchie pie shhh cha, we're watching the girls fighting messaged haha'd by 11

princess george "imagine getting knocked out of the euros and losing yn, couldn't be me"

albono aww, george that's a good one

carmen 🩵 that's because it's my idea

lily 🏌️🏻‍♀️�� I knew it babe

aussie son fumbled the bag and the girl or winning isn't for everyone, but it is for me 👎🏻 by ynnie

lily 🧡 how about monagasque men do it better 👎🏻 by ynnie

carmen 🩵 damn lils!

frenchie pie "you broke her heart, I breaka da spaghetti" 👎🏻 by ynnie

logie bear "formula 1 > soccer"

lewlew make that football and you got a good one

kmags why are we coming up with captions?

hulk 💚 because yn's ex man is messaging her being a dick and so charles has decided to hard launch

kmags ohhh wait, how do you know this nico?

hulk 💚 I stay in the know 💪🏼

ynnie gotta keep my grid dad up to date

nando why the fuck is he your grid dad??

lewlew yeah wtf?

ynnie uhm, cause my grid dad can't be my boyfriends grid dad or my son's dad's boyfriend???

charlie still getting off topic

frenchie pie don't worry chiesa, she's moved on to someone better

kika!! 💘 pierre, he is not saying that!

ynnie thank you!! someone actually on my side

kika!! 💘 say 'don't worry, she's moved on'

ynnie how about none of those

charlie i don't see you coming up with anything, mon cherie

ynnie meet my love, yn?? my beautiful girlfriend, yn?? something normal please

charles_leclerc posted ------

liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc don't worry bud, she's moved on

load more comments

username11 calling chiesa bud is insane

username12 two different tifosi coming together to NOT maximize their joint slay ↳ username11 charles really declaring war on juve fans ↳ username12 who will win? ferrari or juve?

ynusername sha, this is not what we agreed on. ↳ charles_leclerc but this is funnier, no? ↳ ynusername I blame pierregasly for this ↳ pierregasly that's okay, MY bestie is iconic ↳ francisca.cgomes are you calling me not iconic ↳ ynusername hahaha, let's all laugh at pierre now ♥️ by estebanocon ↳ username13 not estie bestie liking that comment

username14 THE HAND ON HER THROAT IN THE SECOND PICTURE??? YN HOW DID YOU SURVIVE? ↳ username15 BITCH WHO CARES ABOUT THAT HAND!! LOOK AT THE FIRST PICTURE! ↳ username14 charles marking his spot like a dog

lewishamilton look at you two! ↳ ynusername hi future teammate!

logansargeant i liked my suggestion :( ↳ charles_leclerc me too ↳ oscarpiastri personally my options were better ↳ username16 now I want to know what you all suggested ↳ logansargeant formula 1 > soccer

username17 someone should edit that picture of jorginho getting the spaghetti dumped on him to chiesa, but it's actually formula 1 cars ↳ username18 winning isn't for everyone, but it is for Charles ↳ oscarpiastri that's what I said! ↳ username18 omg twins!

username19 chiesa really fumbled the bag ↳ oscarpiastri I said that one too! ↳ username19 oscar just twinning with everyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x fem!reader #charles leclerc #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smau #read #danielle writes #federico chiesa x ex!reader

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bloodibambiidoll · 6 months ago

Text

When You’re Gone

(Ex!Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You go to one of Eddie’s shows and see him for the first time since you broke up and he’s willing to do anything to win you back. WK: 5.8K

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning, mention of heart break/break ups, Eddie was kind of dick before the break up but he’s sweet through this entire thing, pining, unprotected sex, fingering, sixty nine, just a lil bit of choking, fluff fluff fluff, lmk if I missed any! 18+MDNI!!

A/N: So I’ve been missing Eddie a lot, I’ve been thinking about writing for him again off and on but the fear that I have from being bullied in this fandom has stopped me. But I guess all it took for me to break was seeing that ASSS so, I offer you this. Idk when I’ll write ST again, maybe it’ll be consistent, maybe it won’t. I guess this is a bit of a trial run. I put my HEART into this, I really kind of poured everything I’ve been feeling the last few months into writing this so that makes me extra nervous. But I hope you guys like it, I love u🖤

You couldn’t believe you let Robin talk you into this. You hadn’t seen or talked to Eddie In months. Not since you stormed off the set of the music video he practically begged you to star in. He was being a gigantic snob the entire shoot. Telling you that “you weren’t doing it right” or “looks like we are going to have to shoot that again, can you get your head in the game, babe?” But the thing was your head was in the game and you were doing every single thing he asked exactly how he asked and yet it still wasn’t enough.

That was just the final straw. He had been acting like the sun revolved around him. Around his music. Around partying and blowing money just so he could brag about the shit he has. He started calling your friends and family back home less and less. Missing date nights. Forgetting anniversaries. He stopped telling you how beautiful you looked any chance he got and treating you like you were his everything because he had so much more than you now. Which you would never be upset about, you were and are still proud of him for every single thing he’s accomplished. But that problem was that he stopped being your Eddie almost entirely.

You hoped that it would pass, that it was just because it was all so new, the money, the fame, the adoration. But after almost two years it just continued to get worse and no matter how much you tried to bring it up to him he just reassured you time and time again that you meant everything to him. With no change. You couldn’t continue to give him everything while it felt like he virtually forgot you existed everyday. So you walked away, even though he was yelling after you, not because he wanted you to stay, but because he needed to get back on set and finish filming. You went back to your shared home, packed your things, and left.

Robin was more than happy to let you stay with her and her girlfriend while you got back on your feet. You couldn’t stay in L.A. without Eddie, he was all you had there. So you went back home to Indiana. To your friends and your family. Where you felt seen and you felt like you mattered again. But that didn’t take away the ache in your heart for him. The entire piece of you that felt like it was missing without him. Eddie had been a constant in your life since you were little.

You grew up together. You were both too stupid to get your heads out of your asses and admit how crazy you were about each other until you graduated highschool but you thought after that it would be forever. It’s always been you and him. You went through every phase, every hardship, every big life event with Eddie by your side. When him and the guys got that record deal you were more than happy to continue to stand by him through it all. But apparently he didn’t feel the same. Which felt like a stab in your chest day after day. You really did miss him so much. But you weren’t even sure if he missed you too.

Eddie was sweating fucking buckets. He hasn’t been this nervous for a show in over a year, going up in front of all those people was a walk in the park to him at this point. But knowing you were going to be here tonight changes everything. He wants it to be perfect. He’s been working on this song for you since you left, just hoping that he would have a chance to play it for you. He didn’t want you to hear it on the radio, no, he wants you to hear it directly from him. He wants to see your face after. He wants to tell you how sorry he is for losing sight of the only thing that made all of this worth it. He just wants you.

Not a day has gone by since you left that he didn’t feel empty. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. His favorite restaurants were your favorite restaurants. His favorite movies were your favorite movies too. Your side of the bed being empty made him feel so lonely that he started just passing out on the couch every night to avoid looking at it. He stopped going to parties. Hardly ever saw anyone unless he had to go to the studio or play a show. Tour was awful, you were by his side through their entire debut tour so doing it without you felt like doing it without one of his guitar strings, or his arm.

The fans could tell he was less engaged. His record label was on his ass and so were the guys. He just couldn’t seem to shake you. At this point none of it even feels like it matters if he can’t have you. You’re all he wants and if he has to do all of this without you, if this is what ruined the two of you, part of him doesn’t even want it. A big part. He’s thought about dropping everything and just flying home to beg at your doorstep. But each time he talked himself out of it, not even sure if you’d want to see him.

But tonight? You were going to be here at his show and this was his chance to win you back. He would give it all up for you in an instant, all you had to do was ask and he would do it, no matter what it was. So when Robin called him and asked him to set aside an extra ticket for you he felt like this was the universe giving him another shot. He just hoped you would too.

Your whole body was vibrating as you watched Eddie on stage, your heart felt like it was practically beating to the sound of his music, calling out to him. He looked good, really good, and as emotional as you are you still can’t deny the way your core throbs, and your thighs clench together at the sight of him. His hair was a perfect mess, the tattered at the knee jeans he was wearing fit him like a dream, and were reminiscent of the ones he used to wear, when he was your Eddie. Not the designer ones you’ve seen him in recently. He was wearing the battle vest you guys made in your first apartment before everything got chaotic and went to shit. With nothing under it. His tattooed chest and torso were on display and you noticed a few new additions. But your eyes nearly pop out of your head when they land on the little stick-n-poke heart with your initials in the middle that you gave him when you were 18 was touched up.

You can’t tear your eyes away from it for a good thirty seconds, just as they start to well up with tears you snap yourself out of it, looking up at his face again. This time locking eyes with him for the first time in nearly six months. Eddie’s soft chocolate eyes go wide and his fingers falter on the strings for half a second before he fucking smirks at you right as he picks up on the chorus. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the song, before announcing that they only had a few left.

Eddie is trying to focus on the crowd, focus on his chords, focus on anything but you, but it’s damn near impossible. His eyes just keep traveling back to you because he missed you so much, because you looked so fucking beautiful standing in the very front row under the stage lights and you were looking at him in a way that gave him hope. He made eye contact with a few fans, reached down to touch their hands, but no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. When it came time to announce the second to last song he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before turning to address the crowd.

“Hey guys.” Cheers erupt all around you and Eddie smiles, flipping his sweaty hair back, making you and probably every other girl in the room swoon. “Thanks for coming out tonight, you’ve been fucking awesome. This next song is… well, it’s a new song. I mean, it’s new to you guys, I’ve been working on it for a while. So there’s this girl…” His eyes lock with yours again and your heart beats somehow even faster. “She’s here tonight and I really fucked things up with her, obviously some shitty song isn’t gonna erase all of that. But I guess this is just kind of my way of trying to make up for it. Or at least starting to.”

As the band plays the opening notes of the song you immediately notice it’s a lot slower and more melodic than their usual songs. They have a few other songs like this, love songs that Eddie wrote about you, happy ones. But this is nothing like that, especially when Eddie starts to sing. He never takes his eyes off of you as the lyrics fall from his lips, lyrics about how sorry he is, how badly he fucked up, how he misses you so much he feels like his soul is missing. He pours his heart out to you as his deep voice filled with longing fills the venue.

You can’t stop the silent tears that stream down your face, unable to tear your eyes away from his for even a second. Eddie Munson, the love of your life, the beautiful boy who you got to watch turn into an even more beautiful man, is standing in front of thousands of people practically begging you for another chance. And it’s like every dream you’ve had since you left coming true. All you wanted was for him to come back to you and apologize, maybe beg a little. You might be an idiot for holding out hope that he would, but you always knew in your heart that you’d take him back if he did. It might take some time for you to fully trust him again, but if he’s willing to try so are you.

As the song comes to an end Eddie thanks everyone, making the crowd go crazy. Then he announces that the next song will be their last before looking down at you again. The flashing lights dance over the tears streaming down your cheeks but you’re smiling at him and it makes his heart soar. And when you blow him a kiss that he of course catches, putting it close to his heart like he has a million times, he feels like a dorky teenager in love with his best friend again. He watches you disappear into the crowd and his heart falls, almost forgetting that he was even on stage performing, all he could see was you. He could hardly focus through the last song, hastily thanking everyone for coming because he was absolutely terrified that you left without even giving him a chance to talk to you face to face.

You push through the sea of sweaty bodies until you get to the far end of the stage, stopping in front of the security guard, who of course recognized you and let you pass without even glancing at the bracelet on your wrist. You run over to Robin, practically knocking her over.

“Whoa! Slow down dude, are you okay? That was… a lot.” Robin grabs onto your shoulders to center you, her eyes laced with concern.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m uh - I’m gonna go wait for Eddie in his dressing room.” You bite your lip nervously, avoiding eye contact with her, scared of her reply.

“Oh thank god! I can’t wait to tell Steve the plan worked!” Robin’s eyes go wide as her hand comes to cover her mouth. “I meaaan…”

“You know what? I’m going to bug you about this later, but right now I have to go.”

“Yesss!!! Go get your man!!!”

You snort as you turn away from her, rushing down the hall until you see the door with Eddie’s name on it. You pace the room a few times before sitting down on the black leather couch, bouncing your leg so hard it makes the legs shake. The air feels especially humid as your nerves course through your body, the material of the couch sticking to your bare thighs with each bounce of your knee. You can’t stop messing with your hair, adjusting your top, fiddling your fingers. It’s probably only been ten minutes but it feels like it’s been an eternity when the door finally pushes open.

“Princess” Eddie stands in the doorway, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and filled with adoration as his large ringed hand comes to rest against his chest. “Hi.”

“Hi Eddie.” You smile at him softly as you let out an almost dreamy sigh. “I liked your song.”

“Yeah?” He takes a few steps forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I missed you. I’m so sorry, I was such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I let you walk away.”

His eyes are sad as he casts them down, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. A classic tell tale sign that Eddie was nervous.

“And I totally get it if you don’t want anything to do with me still, I fucked up. Bad.”

“Eddie…” you sigh, standing up to close the remaining distance between you. You grab onto his hands, stopping his movements as you look up into his eyes. “Look at me.”

When he looks you in the eyes again his own are brimmed with tears, and his lip is quivering. And even though you’re still upset with him, all you want to do is comfort him. It was like second nature to you.

“I love you.” You say it so plainly, so matter of fact that it makes the tears flow down his cheeks, a heavy sob escape his chest. You grab onto his cheeks, pulling his forehead down to rest against yours. “I love you Eddie.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I miss you everyday. None of this is worth it without you. Everything feels so dull. Everything I do reminds me of you.” His hands come to rest over top of yours as his tears continue to flow, tears of your own now streaming down your face. “Please just give me a chance to make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave it all behind. Never touch my guitar again. Cut off my arm. Anything.”

“Well, you don’t have to go doing all of that…” you chuckle, tilting your chin so you can connect his lips with your own. You pour everything into that kiss, your love for him, your hurt, your anger, your longing. And he does the same. Kissing you like he would die if he didn’t. You only pull away when you absolutely need to take a breath of air. Foreheads still connected as you pant against each other's lips, just inches apart.

“God I missed your lips, princess.” Eddie runs his hands down your face, cupping your jaw. “Missed every part of you.”

“I missed you too Eddie, god.” You kiss him again, this time running your tongue across his plush bottom lip. He immediately grants you access, intertwining your tongues with a groan. Your fingers come up to lace through his curls, and tug causing him to moan into your mouth. His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs just grazing that bit of skin between your top and your skirt. You push yourself further against him, moaning when his hands move to grab your ass.

“Baby, wait, don’t you think we should talk more?” He pulls away breathlessly tilting his head back so he can look at you.

“Later. We can talk later.” You take a few steps back, stumbling a little on your heeled boots as the backs of your knees hit the couch, you plop down, pulling Eddie down with you. He puts his hands on the back of the cushions on either side of your head so he can lean down over you, his face inches from yours, his hair almost acting like a curtain around you, shielding you from the outside world. “Kiss me again, please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, princess, I told you I’d do anything, didn’t I?” He smirks at you as kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as your fingers desperately grasp onto the sides of his vest, pulling him closer.

“Touch me, Eddie.” You whimper, leaning back to look up at him through your lashes, your lips are kiss swollen and your lipstick is all but nothing at this point.

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to talk before we-“

“Eddie, I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. But you said anything, right? I want, need, to feel your fingers again, please.” And how could he resist you, when you’re looking at him like that? And your skirt is pushed so far up your legs he can see your little lace panties, his favorite pair, if he isn’t mistaken. He would literally lick the bottom of your boots if you asked him to.

“I told you that you don’t have to beg, doll, I’m the one that should be begging for the privilege of being able to touch you.” He smirks, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before kissing down your jaw, to your throat, leaving little nips along the way. “Missed this body so much.”

One of his hands grabs onto the top of your thigh, his thumb running over your slit through the thin lace of your panties pulling a soft moan from your lips.

“Missed this pussy so much.” He grazes over your clit before applying light pressure, rubbing circles on it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re so wet for me already, your body missed me too, huh sweetheart?”

“Yes, missed you so much, baby.” You pull him down further so that his free hand is resting on the cushion next to you and his neck and jaw were close enough to kiss and suck bruises into. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“All yours.” He chuckles as pushes your panties to the side, circling two fingers around your entrance and curling them upwards, stroking them against your sweet spot immediately. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight, practically sucking me in.”

“My fingers were never be as good as yours - ohmyfuckinggod.” A loud moan rips through you and your head falls back against the couch as he starts to thrust his fingers quickly in and out of your dripping hole. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with his fingers as his lips attach to your neck, giving you a mark of his own.

“Never have to live without them again if you don’t want to, I’ll worship this pussy everyday until I die if you’ll let me.” Eddie kisses down your chest, using his free hand to push your little tank top and bra down, freeing your tits. He kisses across the tops of them, leaving gentle open mouth kisses on both your peaked nipples before licking between the valley of them. He slides his tongue over so he can latch onto one of your nipples and it sends you over the edge.

“Ohhh fuck! Eddie! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he continues to thrust them deep and fast into you.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, cum for me. You look so fucking beautiful.” He kisses your cheek before leaning up and pulling his fingers from you. He holds eye contact with you as he sucks them into his mouth with a groan. “Just as sweet as I remember.”

“Eddie, please fuck me, I need you.” Your legs are still spread, your glistening pussy practically calling his name, framed perfectly by those little panties that he loves so much like a work of fucking art. The way your shirt and bra are pushed down under your tits is making them look irresistible. He leans down, resting both of his hands on your knees, and smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You have no idea how fucking badly I want you right now, but can I take you back to my hotel? I wanna take my take with you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours before sliding it along your cheek, placing a soft kiss there.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” You’re breathless and so fucking horny but the idea of getting to fuck Eddie in a bed, where you would be totally alone, sounded a lot more appealing than fucking him in a dressing room where anyone could walk in.

You grab onto Eddie’s vest and push it off his body the minute the door to his hotel room is shut behind you. You take his face in your hands, your eyes shining as you look up at him while you rub your thumbs across his temples.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You coo at him, running your hands down his chest.

“I like your new tattoos… and this.” You run your pointer finger across the band of his pants before tracing the little heart on his hip. “When did you do this?”

“Uh - A few weeks ago.” He grabs the hand tracing along his hip and takes it in his own, bringing it up to his lips so he can place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was getting this other tattoo and my artist asked if I wanted to cover it up. I laughed at him and told him to touch it up instead.”

“Eddie… you feel heat rise in your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you so bad.”

“Yeah, pretty girl? I told you I’m all yours.” He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back toward the bed so he can sit on the edge of it with you between his spread legs. “Gonna worship this body, show you how much I missed you.”

He grips onto your shoulders rubbing them gently for a moment before hooking his fingers in the straps of your bra and tank top, pulling them down your shoulders. He leans forward, kissing along your bare collar bone as one of his hands snakes around under your skirt to grab a hand full of your ass.

“Missed these perfect tits.” He takes them in his hands, squeezing them, before he grabs onto the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, his fingertips gently gliding over your skin with each touch. He took his time taking your skirt off, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could until you were completely bare before him. “So fucking perfect, baby doll.” He grips onto your ass looking up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Need to taste that sweet pussy.”

“Take your pants off first.” You reach forward and undo his belt before working on his button and zipper, popping them open to reveal his thick cock covered by the material of his boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down to his ankles and you bend down to unlace his boots.

“Fuck, you look so sexy, makes me think about that time I made you hump my boot…” Eddie smirks down at you as he takes your face in his palm and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Yeah, that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, if I’m being honest.” You giggle before flicking your tongue out to run it along the pad of his digit.

“Jesus Christ, get up here before I bust from just looking at you.” Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you back up to your feet before kicking his pants off the rest of the way. He lays back on the bed, patting his chest. “Sit on my face, princess. Your throne missed you.”

You stand there for a moment, just looking at him. He keeps telling you how perfect you are but he doesn’t even realize how truly perfect he is. The way he was smiling at you like you hung the stars, his ink covered arms that are more toned now than when you were younger, along with his more broad chest that’s now nearly covered in tattoos. Your eyes travel down his torso to his happy trail, the v lines on his hips, and settle on the way that his cock is straining in his boxers. He was lying there, so perfect, calling his face your throne, and he is just so your Eddie.

“You good, sweetheart? Or are you hypnotized by my otherworldly handsomeness?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning back on his elbows. You know he’s trying to be goofy but it only makes you even more desperate for him. You climb onto the bed to straddle him, your bare pussy resting on top of his cock, only separated by the thin material of his boxers.

“Yeah, I just really fucking need you.” You grind down on him, pulling a groan from him as you lean down to lick across his lips, sucking on the bottom one before pulling away with a pop.

“Fuck, get up here, now.”

He pats his chest and his tone has you clenching around nothing. He grips onto your ass, jiggling it in his hands before landing a smack on one of your cheeks. You moan as you scoot up so that your thighs are resting on either side of his head with your pussy hovering just over his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you down so he can bury his face in between your legs. He licks a long stripe along your wet slit before circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh - fuckingshit - feels so good.” You moan as he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside you, flicking it against your inner walls.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, missed this sweet fucking pussy so much.” He swirls his tongue inside you before he brings it up to your clit again, licking it with the flat of his tongue. He sucks your clit and your pussy lips into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll back.

“That’s so fucking good, yeah, eat my fucking pussy.” You lean back resting your hands on his thighs as you start to grind down on his face. You bring one of your hands to his cock, stroking him through his boxers, chasing him to moan even louder into your pussy. “Fuck, Eddie, I wanna taste you.”

You push yourself up off of his face and he looks up at you with a pout but before he can even protest you’re throwing one of your legs over his head so you can flip around and straddle his face reverse cowgirl.

“Oh jesusfuckingchrist, baby.” Eddie groans, grabbing onto both of your ass cheeks and jiggling the meat of them in his hands. You hook your fingers in the band of his boxers so you can pull his cock free, spitting on your palm and taking it in your hand. “Fuck.”

“Need to taste you too, baby.” You lean down, flicking your tongue out to leave little kitten licks on his tip before sucking it between your lips.

“God damn, princess, fucking missed your mouth so much.” Eddie moans as he uses his grip on your ass to pull your pussy down on his face again, burying his tongue deep inside.

You take him further down your throat, swirling your tongue around his shaft and using your hand to stroke what isn’t in your mouth. Eddie eats your pussy like a man starved, bringing his lips to your clit as he inserts two of his thick fingers inside you.

“Yes, yes, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pull off of him continuing to use your hand to stroke his spit soaked cock. He picks up the speed of his fingers as he sucks on your clit even harder. “Oh god - I’m - I’m fucking cumming!”

Your walls clench around his fingers and your thighs squeeze around his head as your high washes over you, loud moans and the sound of your wet pussy filling the room. Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him because it becomes too much. He grips onto your hips, flipping you over into your back before covering your body with his own. He connects your lips in a heated kiss, his lips and chin still slick with your wetness as you taste yourself in his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you, fuck.”

“Yes, please please fuck me, I need to feel you.” Eddie uses one hand to grip onto the base of his cock, running the tip through your folds before pushing it inside you. “Oh, god.”

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet.” Eddie grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, pushing his hips flush against yours before pulling almost all the way out and slamming into you even harder. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, one of his hands on your hip while the other wraps around your neck just tightly enough.

“Yeah, fucking choke me, missed your hands around my throat, missed you, fuck.” Eddie picks up the pace, his hips smack loudly against yours as the hand on your hips moves down so he can rub circles in your clit.

“Fuck, baby girl, missed you too, missed this fucking pussy. Gonna fill you up, need you to cum for me.” The hand around your throat squeezes just a little tighter as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if your nails break the skin. His circles on your clit never let up as he tilts his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot just right.

“Oh - my fucking - fuck, I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vise grip as you run your nails down his back.

“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna fill this pussy up so good. Never quitting you. Gonna marry you someday.” Eddie’s thrusts grow sloppy until he’s pushing his hips flush against yours and emptying inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his high. He lets his body rest on top of yours, placing gentle kisses on your neck. You bring your hands to his head and lace your fingers through his hair so you can lightly scratch his scalp.

“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh, dreamily. “I know we have some stuff to work through, and talk about, but I’d really like to make it work. You really wanna marry me someday?”

“What!” Eddie pushes up on his hands, so he can look at you, a big goofy smile on his face. “Of course I wanna fucking marry you! It’s only been the plan since we were 8 and I gave you that ring I won with arcade tickets.”

“I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe you got sick of me and that’s why…”

“Baby…” Eddie’s voice suddenly sounds a little sad, maybe guilty. “That was never… I would never, fuck. Hold on.”

He gets up off the bed so he can find his vest, he picks it up off the ground and pulls something from the pocket before coming back to sit next to you on the bed.

“Can you sit up for me?” You sit up in front of him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a pout on your lips. “I got this… well, I got this a few months before you left and I was just waiting for the right time, ya know? And honestly it never came because I had my head so up my own ass that I wasn’t making the time. But uh - I want you to have it. Even if you don’t say yes, I got it for you, so it’s yours…”

He opens his hand to reveal a little black square box and when he opens it, sitting inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Set in the middle is a big shiny ruby, bracketed by two little bat wings on each side that lead into the band. It was perfect, you’ve been telling him practically your whole lives that if someone proposed to you with a boring ass dimond you would say no, no matter how big it was.

“Eddie…” Your eyes well up with tears as your bottom lip quivers. “Is that really for me?”

“Princess.” He chuckles, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear that escaped. “Of course it’s for you. It’s always been you. And it always will be. Even if you don’t want me back.”

“Eddie, I - yes.” You smile widely at him, wrapping your hand around his wrist so you can turn your head to place a kiss there. “It’s always you, you’re the only one for me. You have a lot of making up to do… and it might take me some time to get fully over all of this but… I still wanna marry you. It’s you and me, till the day we die, stab a goblin in the eye.”

“Yeah baby.” He chuckles, a few tears of his own streaming down his face. You still wanted him. You were going to take his ring. You were sitting here in front of him more beautiful and grown than ever, repeating the words that you had said to each other as kids more times than he could count. “Till the day we die.”

He pulls the ring from the box and you offer him your left hand so he can slide it on your finger. You both smile widely and teary eyed at each other as he pulls you into a kiss. This one is different, this one is full of promise and hope and it’s like coming home. He rests his forehead against yours as he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Stab a goblin in the eye.” He chuckles, smiling widely as he places another gentle kiss on your lips.

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howtoexloveback · 1 year ago

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How To Win Back Your Ex Boyfriend

In every relationship, there are so many difficulties that can affect your life and keep your relationship up and down. But if the problems become very large then, you should leave the relationship. But if you face the issues that are normal for all people then, you should not leave the relationship because the small issues occur in the life of love. But you do not know about your future that for…

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yinyuedijun · 6 months ago

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ZERO-SUM GAME

It’s different with Aventurine. You like being his luxury hand watch. You like being his elegant knife, his liar’s dice, his pretty poker chip. You want to be his object—the object of his affections, something he can parade around just like his expensive suits and his beautiful jewellery and his ostentatious furs. Look at me, he uses them to say. Look at what I own. Look at what I own despite this code on my neck. Look at what I've won despite my eyes and my blood. (Or: Aventurine wins you in a game of poker. He decides to cash out his prize right then and there—to enjoy you on the card table, laid out among all the chips and cards.)

8.6k words of psychological issues, explicit smut, and deranged characterization. aventurine tops, reader bottoms. public sex, voyeurism from strangers, piv, oral (reader receiving), fingering with gloves on, creampie. mild dubcon but the reader is ultimately into it. afab gn reader, they are playing a fem-coded role for an espionage assignment (dress, heels, makeup). themes of objectification. discussion of slavery and sa during slavery (not explicit). dead dove do not eat, mdni.

You are in the grandest casino of Kinyoshi Moon Colony, and Aventurine is running your latest husband into life-ruining debt.

You aren’t cut up about it. If your marriage (or concubinage, rather) were genuine, you'd maybe be annoyed about the loss of capital. But as it is, this relationship is an assignment from the IPC—one of the longest and most excruciatingly boring yet. Fortunately for you, Aventurine’s presence tonight means that you've finally gathered enough intel for Diamond’s needs. It is time for the IPC to terminate your latest contract, and Aventurine is here to collect you.

Which is a little funny, given your relationship. It is strange sitting across from your boyfriend, draped over another man and thoroughly ignoring him. You’re entirely focused on fawning over your husband instead—laughing into his ear, lighting his pipe and filling his whiskey glass, and oh, Mister Li, you're so funny, you're so clever, I think you should go all in!—but Aventurine doesn't react. He only smiles at the two of you, like he isn't bothered by the sight.

This is, of course, an act: when you came home from your last marriage (assignment), he'd made sure to pleasure you so thoroughly that you forgot all about your ex-husband (mark). Aventurine did not openly admit to any kind of jealousy at the time, but you could tell he hadn't been keen on letting another man touch you. He usually isn't too keen about anyone touching any of his things, in fact. Despite appearances, he always abhors the thought of losing anything important.

But any fears he might have are concealed right now. They’re always concealed. Hidden by the expensive suit, the countless stacks of chips, the golden walls and high-vaulted ceilings of the Venetian Zhijin, Masked by his generous gifts, his easy laughter, his careless frivolity. You can see right through his gilded smile. The rest of the table cannot.

They are all intrigued when Aventurine asks, a playful lilt in his voice, “How about we make this game a little more interesting, gentleman?”

The other players at the table consider him. The other plus-ones—concubines, courtesans, gigolos, and so on—look at him with calculated expressions of cursory interest. You do so as well, but only for a moment. Your gaze quickly returns to Mister Li’s face—your husband is meant to be your true focus, after all, not the game. You are not a player at this table, but an accessory. Closer to an expensive watch than a human being.

Some business magnate from the Triangulum Galaxy leans back and raises a brow. “I'm listening,” he says. You watch a bead of sweat travel down your husband’s neck.

“How about we up the ante,” Aventurine says, his voice light, “but instead of betting more money this time, we bet our dates?”

You think, in other star systems, other worlds, such a suggestion would invite riot. But Kinyoshi Colony being what it is, and the Venetian being the establishment that it is, the other players at the table only laugh. Nearly half of them deal in the trade of human beings anyway—this is nothing novel for them.

“Well,” one of them says, “it’s not like winning more money’s gonna make a difference to any of us.” A round of chuckling. He turns to his date—some noblewoman from Jarilo-IV who seems greatly out of her depth—and says, “What do you think, love? How do you feel about being part of my wager?”

She doesn't like it. She clearly doesn't like it, and she also clearly doesn't know how to say it. Were you not on the clock, you might intervene. Maybe. As it is, though, all you can do is observe quietly. All the power in this gambit lies with Aventurine. Even when surrounded by men who manipulate the wealth of entire cities, planets, galaxies—he remains in full control.

“There’s never any shame in folding,” he says, magnanimous. Then he looks your husband in the eye, smiling conspiratorially. “But I know there are some of us who aren't afraid to take risks.”

Li laughs. “You’re right about that, Mister Aventurine.” He gives you a fond smile. And of course he does—you’re his last shot at winning back all his losses for the night. “I think you'd make a pretty little chip, don't you?”

Although Mister Li is clearly less distressed at the thought of betting you than he was at the thought of betting his company just last round, you notice, out of the corner of your eye, a muscle in Aventurine’s neck twitching. It’s very, very subtle, and he'd have never let himself do it if the table’s attention were on him, but he did it. Perhaps it was involuntary. Your mouth curls.

“Sure, darling.” You try not to sound too giddy. “I’ll be whatever you like.”

Ordinarily, you wouldn't be so happy about this farce. This is, put plainly, a stupid way to extract you from your mission. Were the cards in anyone else’s hands, your husband could win and you might be stuck with him for another several weeks, at least—assuming that you aren't discovered and killed first. Or you could go home with another man and be subjected to the kind of things that men do when they trade human beings, and you don't think the IPC would care too much if you were. You are an asset before you are a person, after all. At this table, you are closer to an expensive watch than a human being—and at the Company, you are an overpriced knife.

But to Aventurine, you're a chip in one of his games, and you don't mind that so much. Men who only know wealth will throw around their riches thoughtlessly, but men who have endured poverty will hold onto them tightly—desperately. Aventurine takes care of his luxury watches, his elegant knives, his liar’s dice. His capital. And he never loses anything. He always comes to collect. You trust him to collect you, even with this stupid plan, so you are calm as you watch the dealer shuffle the cards.

The table makes their bets. Most of the players go all-in. A couple fold, perhaps feeling some degree of concern for their partners, but it's more likely that they just have shit hands. A lot of the ones who continue playing have shit hands anyway. Your husband doesn't do too badly—a straight flush. He seems confident.

Then Aventurine lays out his cards. Ten. Joker. Queen. King. Ace.

All hearts.

You have to take a sip of your whiskey to stop yourself from laughing.

Aventurine, himself, has the grace not to look too smug about the outcome. Or maybe it's very unremarkable for him, all these winnings being pushed over to him—poker chips and human beings. Some of the other dates are clearly anxious as they move toward him (they are expected to be loyal to their husbands), and some are clearly excited (they are expected to be frivolous, hedonistic playthings). He humours them all, for a little while. Puts on the usual show as they crowd around him, charms them because it'll be good for business partnerships in case any of their husbands care even a little bit about them. You'd do the same in his shoes. But in your current ones (six-inch heels, black leather, red bottoms, luxury), all you can do is seat yourself on the card table and light up a cigarette. Waiting.

Aventurine eventually sends them all off. All I wanted was to get to know you, he says cheerfully, which is probably not a lie. After they leave, he asks the dealer to close the table and go on break. Turn a blind eye. You raise a brow when they obey him.

How interesting.

You're still enjoying your cigarette by the time he turns to you. You flash him a smile, one of the ones that you use for work. His expression doesn't change, but his thumb brushes against one of his many rings—switching off your synesthesia beacons for some privacy—and he leans back to study you. You know he's admiring you, but it could be mistaken for a leer.

“Well, well,” he says, “If it isn’t the esteemed concubine of Li Fengzhi.”

“The esteemed fifth concubine,” you correct. He hums, looking surprised.

“I thought you were the fourth. Did I misremember?”

“No, just misinformed. He took another concubine right before I arrived on Kinyoshi. He acquired a sixth just last week. Turns out he picks up paramours like they’re strays.”

“How inconvenient.”

“It made no difference to me,” you dismiss. “I’m his favourite anyway, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

“I’d have had to be blind not to notice it. You have the man wrapped around your finger.” Aventurine leans back, studying you as you smoke on your perch. “But before we continue—why don’t you come a little closer, esteemed Fifth Concubine?”

You make a face. “That title doesn’t sound as nearly as flattering in Avgin dialect as it does in Zhijinese,” you note, though you get off the table anyway. You don’t go very far, electing to seat yourself on his lap, your arms draping around his shoulders. The feathers of his jacket tickle at your bare shoulders; the satin of his gloves glide down the skin of your thighs before settling on your calves. “Since you’ve won my company for the night, though,” you sigh, “I suppose I can humour you, Mister Aventurine.”

“Lucky me.” He leans in, his breath sweeping the shell of your ear. His fragrance surrounds you, your body warming at the familiar scent of ambergris and vanilla. You realize, all of a sudden, how much you missed it. You have to stop yourself from pressing your face into his neck and melting—it would be a dead giveaway for your identity and also too revealing of your feelings. Aventurine might be endeared by it, but he might also find it disconcerting. He often needs to be tricked into intimacy.

He does enjoy being wanted though, and he can obviously tell that you want him. He pulls you closer, one of his hands giving your thigh a generous squeeze. It makes you throw your head back in a laugh, exposing the soft skin of your throat. You aren't surprised when he takes the opportunity to kiss it, his lips gentle against your pulse.

“You’re being very forward,” you tease him. “Did you miss me?”

“I’m just trying to be careful,” he defends himself between kisses, his breath warm on your skin. “We should try to conceal our mouths as much as possible. No one can intercept our synesthesia beacons, but someone could still read our lips.”

You give him a funny look. “We’re the only two speakers of Avgin in the known universe. Who could, other than ourselves, could read our—mmph…”

Aventurine has caught the rest of your sentence with his mouth. He’s hungry and wanting for you, the heat of his lips overwhelming. Your tongue is as practised as his, but you find yourself too distracted by your thrill to focus, your kiss wet and eager. Messy. Unprofessional.

You’ve never kissed any of your husbands like this. You’ve never kissed any of your other owners like this. You feel dazed when he pulls away.

You compose yourself. “So you did miss me.”

He smiles. “Guilty as charged.” A gloved hand rests on your face, satin tracing your lips. “How could I not? You’ve been away from the house for so long.”

Your eyes narrow. There’s no idiom for this in Avgin, so you flip briefly to Interastral Standard: “Pot, kettle, black. You leave home all the time.” You smack away the hand at your waist, petty. He looks amused. “And you almost always die.”

He switches out his smile for a pout. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad about last time.”

“You nearly got yourself blasted with atomics, so yes, I’m still mad at you.”

Now he’s frowning. “Am I going back to sleeping on the couch when you come back?”

“Yes,” you say. His deepening frown is meant to be read as a joke, but you know better. Deciding to throw him a bone, you lean in, whispering playfully into his ear: “You can still fuck me on it though.”

Aventurine hums, as if considering. His hands traverse your sides as he contemplates your suggestion. You move to straddle him, your thighs squeezed around his hips. When you grind against him, you can feel how much he wants you despite his composure, his control—his length straining in his pants, pressed against the silk covering your core.

“I don’t think I can wait long enough to fuck you on the couch,” he says, voice teasing.

“No?” You hum as his hands travel upward, feeling every inch of you. “The ship on the way home, then?”

“We don’t leave until tomorrow. Do you really think I can wait that long?”

You don't expect to feel the warmth of his hands on your chest. Your breath hitches when he starts palming your tits through your dress, neon eyes admiring the curve of them. One of his thumbs skims over the peak of your breast, and his mouth curls when your nipple hardens. “No bra? That's convenient.”

“I—” You squirm in his grip, whining. It just makes you grind against his lap more, your cunt moving against his slacks. A wave of heat runs through your lower half, and you clench around nothing. You can see people from a nearby table glancing at you, doing double takes. You can feel their lingering gazes on you, and you know Aventurine can too.

“I—are you going to”—your voice shakes as he pinches your nipple, as his other hand moves to squeeze your ass instead. Your dress is short—designed for easy access—and his fingertips easily skim the underside of its skirt. You wonder if he’s going to pull it up. You wonder if he's going to go even further than that.

But that would be an absurd thing to do in the middle of the busiest casino in the colony, which also happens to be the busiest trade hub in its star system. It would be absurd even for the two of you. Nevermind the reactions of the other players in the room—the staff here would immediately blacklist you, and so would every other gambling house in Kinyoshi.

You try to calm yourself. “Are you—ah—going to take me upstairs?”

He's fully kneading your breasts now. You can feel your clit throbbing, your body responding to his rough and unrepentant touch. “Hm… I don't think I want to.” Aventurine’s voice drops. His smile takes on a distinctly wicked quality. “I think I'll take you right here.”

“But we’ll get kicked out,” you whine. Even as you protest though, you're panting and moving your hips now. Grabbing at his arms, rutting against him like you're in heat. His fingers hook around the thin straps of your dress, pull them down your shoulders, already starting to indulge despite your reservations. You bend into his touch.

“Kicked out? By who? The staff?” He smiles, as always. “I own the place now. I don't think they'll be giving me trouble.”

“Y—you what?” For a moment, you're too shocked to keep up the wanton show. “You do? Since when?”

“Since last night.” He thumbs one of the straps that's fallen halfway down your arms. The rest of your dress threatens to come down with it. “Technically it's the IPC who acquired it—or, well, their shell company did—but I'm their designated representative here. I signed the contract.”

“The IPC isn’t going to be upset that you're fucking a concubine, who's not even your concubine, on their new property?”

Aventurine shrugs. “They know the kind of establishment the Venetian is. People gamble with humans here all the time, you know, so this has definitely happened before. The IPC definitely expects it to happen again. And besides”—he returns his attention to your dress, starting to slip the fabric down your shoulders—“I'm just cashing out my winnings. I'm sure they wouldn't deny a gambler his vices. That'd be bad business.”

You want to say more, but then he tugs, suddenly exposing you. You’re bare in front of him—in front of everyone. You can feel eyes on you. Heat curls in your gut as he grabs your tits again, his satin gloves smooth across your skin, and your nipples pebble beneath them. “Hm… much better.”

“But…” You bite your lip, glancing around. There are so many people watching now—so many voyeurs, who've forgotten about their games and their slots. Though there are a greater number of people who are continuing as usual, studying their hands, smoking their cigarettes, unperturbed. All regulars and VIPs, you know from your intelligence.

Aventurine pauses as you catalogue the room, raising a brow. Probably he's surprised at your sudden modesty; you usually have none when his touch is involved.

“Of course,” he adds, “if you'd rather enjoy the suite upstairs…”

“No—I don’t mind staying down here… it's just that I’ve never…”

Your voice trails off. Your eyes traverse the space again. There are people who’ve fully thrown their cards down, greedily drinking in the sight of you instead. Even some of the dealers are watching between hands, glancing at you instead of watching for cheaters. Like this is public entertainment, like you're a show.

Aventurine tilts his head.

“You've never had sex with an audience?” he guesses. He sounds surprised—perplexed. You don't know why. You know he knows it's a stupid question. You know he knows the answer.

You had sex in front of people all the time before you met him. You did it for the exact reasons that he’s almost certainly done the same. To this table of business magnates, you are closer to an expensive watch than a human being; to the IPC, you are more like an overpriced knife; to this gambling hall, you're an interesting sideshow.

To your captors who fucked you in public, you guess you were something like a toy.

The thought sitting in your mouth is this: you've never had sex with an audience and enjoyed it. It was painful—not painful for the heart or the mind or anything else sentimental, but painful like it felt you were a fish being gutted open by a knife. And even beyond that physical pain, you simply didn't enjoy being passed around. You didn't like being owned by those people. You didn't like being an object for their entertainment, a spectacle to be consumed.

But it's different with Aventurine. You like being his luxury hand watch. You like being his elegant knife, his liar’s dice, his pretty poker chip. You like being his plaything, spread for his viewing whenever he wants. You want to be his object—the object of his affections, something he can parade around just like his expensive suits and his beautiful jewellery and his ostentatious furs. Look at me, he uses them to say. Look at what I own. Look at what I own despite this commodity code on my neck. Look at what I've won despite my eyes and my blood.

You want him to own you too. You want him to show everyone that he won you, that he bought you, that you're his possession now. That he, and he alone, is free to treat you like a toy.

You're getting wetter just thinking about it.

“Nevermind,” you whisper. “Let's do it.”

His smile widens ever so slightly. Slyer than usual.

“Good,” he says. He guides you into standing. “Let’s get you settled then.”

You're seated back on the card table. The cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray next to you. Aventurine takes the time to straighten out your dress, lifting the straps back up and affording you some modesty—before he gently lays you out.

You look up at him as you're spread in front of him, laid out next to his royal flush and winnings. Like you're another chip in his stacks, the most expensive one. He puts a hand beneath your leg, drapes it over his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to kiss your calf, his lips delicate.

You glance at the tables around you. You watch the business owners and politicians as they watch Aventurine. You watch them as they watch your boyfriend pepper kisses up your leg, unless he's settling in between them. Your thighs spread easily for him, and you don't resist as he hikes up your skirt.

Then he frowns.

“I’ve never seen these panties before.”

“They’re new,” you relay.

“From your husband?”

“Yup.”

“I see.”

You can't see his face, but he sounds distinctly displeased. You expect him to complain, to say they're not expensive enough or not designer enough or just plain ugly.

You don't expect him to tear them right off.

“Aventurine?!”

You're so surprised you sit up, just in time to see him throw tatters of silk to the floor.

“What?” He looks up at you, expression unbothered, almost mild. “It wasn't your colour.”

Your mouth opens. “But it was still very nice!”

“I'll buy you nicer ones later. I’ll buy you a whole drawer of nicer ones later, when we’re done here.”

He looks down again, humming. Your cheeks flush as he spreads your legs again, baring your glistening sex to him—this time completely bare. Satin glides along the inside of your thighs, and your breath hitches when he reaches their apex. You feel the light touch of a finger along your opening, and you feel your body responding, tightening around nothing.

“Tell me,” he says, “What else did your husband do with you?”

His voice is casual, almost disinterested, but you know Aventurine is listening carefully.

“Not much,” you answer truthfully. “I haven't cum in months, you know.”

“Oh?” He sounds surprised. “You don't have sex with him?”

“No. He's fucked me a lot. It”—you whimper, pausing when you feel his fingers spreading you open, fluttering hole and swollen clit exposed to him—“it just wasn't very good.”

“Then”—you feel a thumb press against your clit, and you swallow—“he never touched you here?”

“N-no.”

“Stupid of him.” He’s drawing slow, lazy circles into the bud now, making you squirm on the table. You press yourself eagerly toward his familiar touch, having desperately missed it for months. Aventurine, perhaps sensing your neediness, asks, “And you didn't touch yourself?”

“He didn't let me,” you whine, and now he's frowning at you.

“I knew I should have gotten you out of there sooner,” he says, and you have to bite back a laugh. Aventurine’s mouth curls at the sound, and he leans in to place a kiss on your thigh. “But that’s fine. I'll make it up to you now.”

Aventurine kisses are soft and precise. They pepper a path up your thigh while his fingers continue to play lazily with your clit. You want—need—to feel something inside you, but he doesn't oblige. His fingers merely run along your entrance, teasing your dripping pussy with luxury satin, and that's all they do, even as your hips buck needily toward him.

He pauses for just a moment. When you look at him, you see him staring at you—at the brand on your inner thigh, the commodity code that your captors left on you, branding you as a product to be used and sold.

His voice is almost soft when he asks, “And what did your husband say when he saw this?”

“He never did,” you reply. “He always fucked me from behind. And he never went down on me.” You pause, thinking about the way he spoke of his business. Of his trade partners. Of what your captors had done to your home when you told him about it, feigning intimacy only to be matched in cruelty. You think about the way he fucked you, how it felt to be gutted open on his expensive, silk sheets.

None of it matters to you, really. This is behaviour that you’ve long accepted, that your body always anticipates. But you always like to offer Aventurine intimacy, whether real or feigned, whether he returns it equally or responds with undeserved cruelty: “I think it wouldn't have bothered him if he had noticed it.”

You can't see Aventurine’s eyes, but you can feel his reaction when he places a chaste kiss on your product code.

“I should have gotten you out of there sooner,” he repeats. Then he pauses. “Maybe I shouldn't have let you go at all.”

“I didn't mind,” you say. You aren't lying. “You gave me up for a reason.”

He stands. Cups your face with a palm, luxuriant fabric and gold rings pressed against your skin. Sometimes he's given up the aventurine stone temporarily for assignments, parting with it in elaborate gambles that he always manages to win. The way he’s touching you now reminds you of the way he holds the gem whenever it returns to his hand.

“Well,” he says, “I’m sorry it took so long to get you back.”

Aventurine tilts your chin up for a kiss. You meet it eagerly, and it's so tender in its familiarity that every memory of your husband fades. There's only Aventurine, and his gentle mouth, and the way his hands slide your dress down again, how he palms your breasts again. How he teases one nipple with his expensive rings until you're moaning into his mouth. How his other hand travels down until his gloved hand is cupping your heat. You drag your hips against his touch, desperately seeking some kind of friction, your wetness drenching the cloth. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your body aching to be filled by him, aching in a way that it does for no one else.

It’s one of the most addictive feelings you've ever known.

Aventurine only stops touching you so he can push away all the chips, clearing space on the table. He ignores the cacophony as countless stacks fall over, not sparing the plastic coins a single glance. Like you're the only prize that matters to him, even though the sum of his winnings come out to more than you ever were worth.

He lays you out on the table again, flat on your back, exposed, before kissing a path down your body—your neck, your breasts, your stomach, between your thighs. He deigns to give your product code one more kiss, his lips so gentle that it makes you tremble—and then he finally puts his mouth on you. He licks a hot stripe from your dripping pussy up to the crest of your sex, and your eyes close in bliss.

If you felt any uncertainty before this, it's completely gone now. Your hands ghost over your tits, playing with them as Aventurine’s tongue plays with you. He sucks on your neglected clit, fingers squeezing your thighs, keeping you spread open and still for him. He presses in, lets you drag your cunt over his greedy mouth and grind your clit against his face. Heat and pressure coil tight in your belly as he pleasures you, your body flushing with the kind of bliss only Aventurine can give you. You’re so lost in it that you almost don’t notice how quiet the rest of the hall has gotten, the cacophony of chatter and slot machines oddly subdued—almost missing. In their absence, the obscene noises that Aventurine is drawing from your mouth and body are louder than they should be.

The pleasure in your belly is just starting to swell when he pulls away. You give him a pleading look as he leans over you, but before you can start begging for more, you feel his fingers press against your heat. He watches you with keen eyes as he starts rubbing your pussy, maybe enjoying the desperate noises you make at his touch. You buck your hips, moaning as your clit and entrance grind against the fabric of his gloves, seeking friction. You’re empty, aching, desperate to be filled, but you think you can finish like this, just by rutting against his satin fingers—

Aventurine withdraws his hand, and you whine.

“No,” you beg, “please, please keep going, I was getting close—”

He raises a brow, feigning surprise. “Keep going?” He brings up his hand, shows you his gloves. The satin is soaked, shiny and stained with your slick. “I don't think I should. Look at what a mess you’ve made of my gloves.” Aventurine hums, frowning. “These are designer, you know. And limited—there are only 95 pairs of these in the whole universe. And you're ruining them.”

“I'm sorry,” you say, mind so fogged with lust that you can't even return his teasing. “I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I'll do anything, just—just let me cum—”

“Anything?” His smile is sly.

“Anything.”

“Well. I suppose if you help me clean this up, I wouldn't mind rewarding you with more.”

You don't need to ask what he means by that. When he holds out his hand to you, runs a finger along your lips, you obediently open your mouth for him. Your tongue slides along the wet satin, only making his glove messier—but he seems not to mind. He merely watches intently as your tongue cleans his fingers, taking in the obscene image of you hungrily lapping your own slick off the expensive fabric.

He lets you ruin his glove thoroughly before finally drawing back, peeling it off.

“I'm not sure that did any good,” he says, frowning. “I’ll probably need to buy a new pair. But”—he pulls away, and you feel him settle between your legs again, his hands spreading them. “I'll still reward you for the effort.”

Aventurine is quick about getting his mouth back on you. His tongue is hot on your skin, expertly teasing your clit. You feel his fingers running along your entrance again, growing sticky with his need. He laughs when you press your hips toward his hand, desperate to be filled.

Then he's pressing his bare fingers into your heat, and your back is arching off the table.

The moan you let out is obscene. It only gets worse when his fingers curl, making the pressure in your belly even heavier. Utterly shameless, you beg for him as he fucks you with his fingers: Aventurine, please, please, I need more, please, I'm so close, I'm so close.

As if taking pity on you, his mouth finds your clit again, his fingers pressing into your sweet spot at the same time. And he doesn't let up, pushing into it even when you think you can't take anymore—tongue swirling against your overstimulated bud, fingers making you gush uncontrollably. You practically sob when you cum, a noise of desperation that echoes in the gambling hall.

His smile looks a little fonder than usual—or maybe just entertained—as he stands again and leans over you. You taste your own release in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, and he strokes your face when he pulls away.

“So good for me,” he praises. “Are you going to let me do more?”

You nod eagerly. “Whatever you like,” you say, all sense of shame gone from your body, “and however you want.”

Aventurine’s mouth curls. “Your husband fucked you from behind, right? Why don't you bend over for me, then? Let's show him how he should have been doing it.”

You see the diamond pupils of Aventurine’s eyes glance off to the side, where, sure enough, your husband is spectating with some of his business partners. You force yourself to turn away before you can smile, hiding your expression from the other men. You’re not meant to derive any real pleasure from any of this, let alone pleasure of the vindictive kind. Your relationship with Aventurine is supposedly nothing but a gambler and his newly won, human plaything. It would be suspicious if you appeared to be anything else.

You slink off the table in a distinctly performative way, and Aventurine plays equally into the show—probably an act as familiar to him as it is to you. He guides you into turning around, your eyes falling on the scattered cards on the tabletop, the casino’s eyes falling on you. His hands waste no time in pulling down your dress and reaching around to knead your breasts, in full view of the rest of the gambling hall. You're only vaguely aware of your audience now, registering the interested, hungry stares, but not really caring. You're too focused on the way that Aventurine is tugging and twisting at your nipples, at how he’s pressed up against your ass, his cock straining through his pants. You grind needily against him, whining.

Aventurine kisses your shoulder. “Poor thing. You've been neglected for so long, haven't you?” His hands retreat, and you hear the sound of a zipper being undone. Then your skirt’s being pushed up and you're being bent over, your dripping pussy fully presented to him. When you feel the press of his cockhead against your entrance, you desperately try to push yourself back onto him. But he doesn't allow you to—only running the tip along your wet folds, still sticky from your release, while he stills you with a gentle touch on your hip.

You make a pathetic, desperate noise. Aventurine chuckles, though there’s now a breathy quality to his voice.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I'll take care of you.”

You know he will. He always takes care of you, in a way that no one else ever has. Even when he gambles your life for some mission, even when he can barely afford you the barest hints of intimacy, even when he displays your body to an audience of slave traders and murderers—he always takes care of you. Even if you are only a knife or a wristwatch or a chip in one of his games, he still treats you like you're worth holding onto.

Aventurine finally moves. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his cock sliding into you. Usually he needs to be careful after your long missions away from him, knowing you'll be tense. He understands that your body always anticipates being in pain after being touched by other people. But he has you so worked up right now—still dripping from your release, still pliant from his fingers, still eager to please him before the crowd—that your cunt easily swallows his length. The stretch is pure bliss, pleasure unfurling in your body as you're filled up properly for the first time in months. He's just as affected as you, breath shaking as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he breathes—laughs. “Nearly forgot how good this feels.” He pauses, his breathing slowing—almost stopping each time you squeeze around him. You turn back, throwing him a pleading glance, and he meets it with an endeared smile. “Eager today, aren't you?” He hums, a hand sliding along your waist. “You really do need to be properly fucked.”

He's stalling. Trying to give you a moment to adjust, but you don't need it. “Yes,” you encourage him. Aching for the press of his cock against your walls, you grind against him, and you hear a strangled groan as you force him to move inside you. “Please, Aventurine—please, please fuck me, I need it so badly—”

He hums, both hands grabbing your hips, his fingers sinking into you. “Well. Since you asked so nicely.”

The first thrust has your eyes going wide, your hands reaching for the card table as you’re forced to bend over. You spread our palms next to the mess of heart cards and shiny tokens, bracing yourself for the way your body’s about to be used. He doesn't give you time to breathe after, each stroke filling you deep and fast. The rest of the gambling hall grows very, very quiet as Aventurine fucks you, and suddenly all you can hear is the appreciative murmur of the crowd, clink of ice cubes in aged whiskey, the noisy flick of lighters as more patrons opt to pause their games and enjoy the show. You hear the shattering of all the stacks beside you, hundreds of thousands of dollars in chips fall over beside you, tokens clinking as they roll across the tabletop. But all of that is soon drowned out by the wet noise of your pussy being fucked open, the squelch of your slick around his cock. You moan each time he bottoms out, eager to be filled.

When you feel his cock press into your sweet spot, your moans quickly turn into cries.

You hear something like a breathy laugh from Aventurine. Your body always reveals itself so easily to him, and you know he enjoys it. He hits that spot again and again, builds an agonizing tension in your body with every thrust of his hips. It has your pussy gushing around him, your thighs growing wet and sticky with your need.

Just when it feels like you can't take anymore, he reaches down and presses his fingers against your throbbing clit. Your knees buckle as he toys with you, chest heaving against the table as he sets a brutal pace. You're—overwhelmed, mind going hazy as you're fucked mercilessly. So far gone, you can hardly register the disgruntled expression of your husband, the hungry gazes of his companions, the way that other players are starting to shift in their seats, palming themselves at the sight of your pussy being split open. There's only the tight coil in your gut, the chips between your fingers as you grab uselessly for something to ground you, the cock that's filling you over and over and over—and oh fuck, you’re going to cum, you're really going to cum after being won in a game, from having your pussy used like a sleeve, from being watched by men who will never own you no matter how many times they trade you, no matter how many times they fuck you, no matter how many times they pass you around, because you'll only ever belong to Aventurine—

Your orgasm crashes through your body, and you sob.

It's a broken, blissed out noise. Your pussy is equally shameless, gushing as you pulse around Aventurine’s cock. You go limp as he fucks you through your orgasm, uncaring about the mess you're making. He only groans as you squirt all over him, hips stuttering as he reaches his own peak—spilling himself inside you, pumping you full. Aventurine’s body slumps over yours as rides out his high, his face pressing into your shoulder. You find the wherewithal to shift yourself, just enough to your lips against the tattoo on his neck. He looks at you for a fleeting moment, the blue ring of his eyes electric on you, before capture your mouth in a desperate, messy kiss.

The two of you stay there for a long moment, panting into each other. Then Aventurine collects himself, remembers how to talk: “Fuck.”

You piece yourself together just as easily. Maybe even faster. Smiling into his mouth, you ask, “Enjoy yourself?”

“Clearly.” Aventurine presses his lips into your neck, lingering only briefly. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

Aventurine takes his time with moving, as if basking in the afterglow—or bragging in it. But he does rise, eventually. Pulls out slowly, making you shudder. He helps you to your feet, lets you hold onto him for support. His spend drips down your thighs as you right yourself, messy and hot on your skin. You can feel it sliding down your legs as you walk, braced against Aventurine as he guides you in the long walk toward the elevator. It slips all the way down to your calves, to your expensive heels, even onto the marble floor.

You're fairly certain that it's not an accident when Aventurine flips up your skirt as you pass your ex-husband. At the very least, it isn't a mistake when you stumble in that same moment, bending over and giving him a good look at your well-used pussy, now overfilled with your boyfriend’s cum. You don't stop to look at him, but you know he must be red-faced, displeased—aware that he’s been humiliated. Beaten by a Stoneheart, concubine stolen by Sigonian, one of his favourite possessions claimed by a former slave. You'd laugh if you could.

You can't help but kiss Aventurine while the two of you wait for the elevator, a smile glowing into his lips.

It's absurd, but a staff member approaches the two of you as you indulge in one another. Aventurine pulls away as you’re approached, looking mildly annoyed as he switches on his synesthesia beacon.

“Sir,” the staff says, “you’ve left your other winnings at the table.”

Even in his post-orgasm bliss, Aventurine responds promptly. “I’ll cash it all,” he says. “Send the money to my room. I'm not coming back tomorrow.”

“Very well. And the terms of the… human resource exchange that just happened?”

Aventurine’s jaw clicks. It's quiet, but surprising. You watch him carefully.

“We didn't bet contracts,” he says. “This is a concubine, not a slave. But tell Mister Li I'll buy them anyway. I'll pay whatever price he wants, which I’d wager is the company that he gambled and lost to me. Maybe suggest that to him.”

“Of course,” the staff member replies, bowing. Despite the first-rate service, Aventurine looks like he can't get out of there sooner enough as he guides you into the elevator. You give him a curious look as the door closes.

“You're going to give up a multiplanetary corporation just for this?” you ask.

“Not entirely. The IPC was planning to acquire it anyway. It'll be ours again in a few months.�� He stares at your reflections in the mirror, his strange eyes lingering on your dishevelled form. “We’ll put your intel to good use,” he adds, and although Jade or Diamond or any of your real bosses would say this with a smile and reward you with a bonus, Aventurine’s expression is unreadable.

“What's on your mind?” you ask, fingers brushing against his hand. “You’re worried about something.”

Aventurine blinks, and it takes him a moment to recover.

“Nothing. Just hoping we didn't give our relationship away just now.” He cups your face with a hand, guides you into looking at his smile. A deflection. “I might have gotten carried away.”

You lean into his touch, eyes playful: a performance. As if he's some stranger that you're servicing, a captor being entertained; as if you're a plaything about to be used. As if you expect to be treated like the disposable commodity that your husband just gambled away.

“I wouldn't worry,” you reassure him. “I'm sure after the show we put on, it'll be clear to anyone that you're only keeping me around for sex.”

It's very, very subtle, but a muscle in Aventurine's neck twitches. He'd never allow it in a game of cards, never before the IPC, never before the prying eyes of slavers and killers—but he allows it in front of you. He always unwittingly bares himself to you, even as he swallows his discomfort before adopting his usual, vulpine expression. You don't think anyone else would notice what lies beneath the gilded surface of his smile, his liar’s eyes. You don't think anyone else would notice his tells, his vulnerabilities, his quiet fear of loss.

After all, there is no one else in this universe who knows how to trick him into intimacy.

Winning has always come with a certain emptiness for Aventurine. Gambling is, after all, a zero sum game. He plays a royal flush and people lose their homes. Winner takes all. He survives the fighting pits, his blade dripping red with the lives of other slaves. Winner takes all. He runs from the stench of blood and burning flesh, praying for thunder and rain loud enough to drown the screams of his dying kin. Winner takes all.

He alone survives. He alone enjoys his riches. Ever since the Avgin died, he has always been by himself. There is no amount of coin nor credit that will ever change this.

Here is another unyielding fact that hollows any win: that no matter how many credits he collects, he will always be a chip himself. He will always be a plastic token worth sixty coppers. Gambling is a zero-sum game, and ever since the day he was chained, Aventurine has been the pool of riches divided among winners. He has always been the commodity being traded between hands. He has always been the prize to be cashed out and used. Even now, with all this money and power, it will never be him who comes to collect: it will always be the IPC. Winner takes all.

Such is his fate. Luck is always on his side, but he has always had the losing hand against destiny. No matter how many times he wins, there is nothing that will ever truly belong to him.

But then he met you.

Then he met you, and now his luck does not always feel like such a cruel or empty thing. Now the zero-sum game has meaning. He hedges his bets in the market and buys out a planet, and acquires you along with the shares. Winner takes all. He gambles his life against a nuclear power and comes out on top, and the IPC allows him to keep you by his side. Winner takes all. He plays a royal flush and wins at a table of slave traders, and he gets to fuck you until you can't think of any cock but his own. Winner takes all.

Gambling is a zero-sum game, and when you're the reward, Aventurine wouldn't have it any other way. He’ll never share you with anyone. He'll never sell you to anyone.

He’ll never lose you to anyone.

Sometimes it surprises him, this attachment he feels to you. He doesn't quite understand it, but he thinks it mostly just has to do with how good it feels to fuck you. Much like gambling, Aventurine has never enjoyed sex until you came along. Sex for him has always felt like a humiliation, like being gutted open as a captive animal, like being won and passed around in the grand hall of some gaudy casino.

Which is, in fact, another thing he never thought he'd enjoy: having sex in the Venetian Zhijin before an audience of revolting men. He'd resented having to do it as a slave, but he’d enjoyed doing it with you as a Stoneheart. He'd even do it again if he could—take you over and over again on that card table, fill you up with his cum. Spread your cunt in front of everyone, so they could see for themselves that you were now his. Winner takes all.

Winning doesn't feel empty when you're his reward. Sex doesn't either. Because Aventurine isn't a chip or an animal or a commodity when he fucks you—he's a player. Someone with a seat at the table, as just as wealthy and powerful as the slave traders around him. Someone who’s allowed to own something—really own something.

Really allowed to own you.

Aventurine owns you. When he fucks you, he is a player at the table, and you are the prize he gets to keep. And no matter how you feel about him and how you act toward him—this is all the two of you will ever be. He knows this. He knows that you know it too.

So sometimes he can't fathom it, the way he treats you in bed. The way he always kisses your commodity code when he sees it, the way he allows you to kiss his own. The way he always thinks about pleasuring you until you're drunk on his cock, so addicted to him that you’ll never want to be touched by anyone else. The way he always likes how your body feels when it's being shaped by his hands. How different it feels from being forced to touch other people.

How badly you make him want something that he's always hated.

And this is what he understands least of all: how he doesn't like to hear you say aloud the true nature of your relationship. How he doesn't like it when you accept this reality and say, you're only keeping me around for sex.

It hollows him out when he hears it. A bitter feeling swells in his throat, and he forces himself to swallow.

Aventurine keeps his face neutral as he enters the suite with you. As soon as the door is shut, you pull him close—close enough for him to see the blurred lines of your lipstick, smudged from his mouth; close enough to see the white diamond necklace on your neck, a collar for a concubine; close enough to see the finger-shaped discolorations on your throat, poorly hidden by your foundation.

Close enough to see all the things done to your body by others—all the things you didn't choose for yourself.

“How do you want to have me next?” Your fingertip traces his lips. “On the bed? In the shower?” Your eyes are playful. “Maybe against the window?”

Aventurine’s hand cups your cheek, gold rings pressed against your skin. His hold is delicate, more careful than with anything else he's ever handled—any of his watches, his furs, his jewellery. Even more than with the aventurine stone.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You blink.

“Kiss me?” Your brow ticks up, but then your face lights up in supposed understanding. “Okay. You can kiss me. And then?”

“And then I'll keep kissing you.”

You tilt your head, not understanding. “Really?”

“What? Is that off-limits now?” He leans in, expression playful. “Don't tell me I've got to go back downstairs and win back permission to kiss you from your husband.”

Before you can say anything else—ask anything else, perceive anything else—he presses his mouth to yours. Your eyes widen for only a moment before falling shut, your arms wrapping around his neck. Your lips part for him, and he delights in the noise you make as he deepens the kiss.

He did lie, in a way. The two of you do end up fucking again—this time in bed, your mouth gasping into his as you fall apart for him, wet and needy around his cock. You're so warm around him, so pliable beneath him, so desperate when possessed by him. He knows that he could keep going, that he could do anything to you, that you'd be eager to let him use you however he wants.

But all he does afterward is kiss you.

This is yet another act that he never thought he'd enjoy. Kissing has always felt like a chore or a power play or a manipulation. It has always come with a certain emptiness—just like gambling, just like sex. And then he met you, and now it no longer feels so hollow. Because when he wins bets for the IPC, he feels like a poker chip in one of their games, but when he’s fucking you, he feels like a player at the table. And sometimes, when he kisses you—when he holds you close, when you come down from your high and press your face into the crook of his neck and in the vulnerable haze of your bliss, tell him, I missed you—

—he finally feels like a human being.

end notes: christ alive I have never written anything so horny glddjsksjs. I apologize for both my mid smut writing and deranged characterization 💔

initially this was supposed to be brainless pwp about aventurine eating you out on a poker table but I kept asking myself “why the hell did aventurine gamble for human beings and why are these two insane enough to be fucking in a casino tho lol”, and thus a coherent narrative was born from my shameless lust for this guy! but please also don't take the story too seriously because this is a dumb smut piece first and foremost and I mostly wrote it with my clit 😔✌️

that being said, if you are curious about the subject matter that I covered – here's an afterword expanding on my intentions with the themes.

#aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #im so tired of editing this the quality of this piece is a lost cause sldkfjsldkfj #DIVIDER BY @/CAFEKITSUNE BTW it is so cute i thought it was perfect for this fic #anyway. sorry to everyone for character assassinating our favourite gambler #yueshuo.fics #dead dove #cw.slavery

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brown-bi-beautiful · 1 year ago

Text

Night After Night

Established relationship au

Pairing: Fuckboy bf! Jungkook x Reader

MINORS DNI

Genre: lovers to exes to exes to lovers, Mostly crack, fluff, and smut but a little bit of angst because I'm a bitch.

Words : 17.6k

Summary: "Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is".... You broke up with your boyfriend because he couldn't let go of his fuckboy antiques now he's gonna win you back whatever it takes.

Warnings: Toxic relationships, Jungkook is the biggest red flag but we love him, SMUT [ ITS FILTHYYY, FINGERING, ORAL SEX (Both receiving), PENETRATIVE SEX ( Vaginal), UNPROTECTED SEX (Don't be stupid like Jungkook, please)].

A/n: This is unedited, no proof reading done.

*******

For the thousandth time this evening, you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you witnessed your boyfriend, once again, openly flirting with another girl in your presence. It wasn't as if he was unaware of your presence, and he wasn't doing it secretly behind your back either. He knew very well that you were right there, and the irony was that he was supposed to fetch you a drink when he stumbled upon a pair of boobs on the way.

'Baby, it will be fun,' he had said when he insisted on taking you to this party. Yet now, you found yourself sitting awkwardly on a filthy couch, uncomfortably witnessing two guys passionately making out while your so-called boyfriend indulged in flirting with the brunette, who had her hands all over his biceps. You could bet a million dollars that he was flexing them right now.

When you first met Jungkook in your college, he had the title of the biggest fuckboy of the campus and a snap score of 3 million, yes 3 million and if that's not the biggest red flag then what is? But despite the fuckboy behaviour he was a decent person. After trying (and succeeding) to get in your pants at the frat party you first met, he asked you out on a date. And of course you said yes. He gave you the full date experience, in fact it was one of the best dates you had in a while.

He took you to the movies and was respectful, keeping his hands to himself throughout the outing. During the date, he took care of you, ensuring you were well-fed and enjoyed yourself. Afterward, he even made the extra effort to drive you home in his own car, instead of that death ride he usually brings to college. He was so determined to show you that it wasn't just about sex that he didn't even insist on kissing you at your door, it was you who dragged him inside by his collar to fuck you senseless.

Jungkook surprised you, everyone else and himself when he asked you to be his girlfriend only after three dates. And he was really really sweet so you said yes. To show you how devoted he was to you and how he only had eyes for you he didn't even look at other girls let alone flirt with. But that only lasted for two months. Yes, once a fuckboy always a fuckboy. Although Jungkook remained faithful and never slept with anyone else or outright cheated on you, he still indulged in flirting and entertaining any other woman he found even remotely attractive.

Initially, you tried to dismiss it as harmless flirting, but as time went on, the situation became increasingly unbearable. The only thing preventing you from ending the relationship was the fact that he genuinely loved you. Jungkook proclaimed his love for you just three months into the relationship, whereas it took you more than six months to reciprocate those feelings.

You knew Jungkook loved you because he never failed to show you. God, the extremities that boy has gone to show you how much he loves you. One time he ran 12 miles to get to you because you sprained your ankle and was in the hospital and his car was stuck in traffic. Later he ended up fainting from exertion and you found yourself taking care of him instead. It was still really sweet gesture from him.

Once Jungkook managed to free himself from the other girl's company and arrived with a big smile and your favorite beer in hand, you promptly got up and headed towards the front door, leaving your boyfriend behind in confusion.

"Where are you going?" Jungkook asked, following you outside.

"Home." You were already ordering an uber.

"We are leaving already?"

"No, Jungkook. I am leaving already."

"But why? We were having fun."

"Again, no. You were having fun, I was just asked by two guys if I wanted to have a threesome."

"What guys?" Oh the hypocrisy.

"That's not the point JK," you finally snapped, turning to confront your boyfriend. "You're the one who dragged me to this pathetic party, and instead of being there with me, you spent 20 minutes flirting with some random chick."

"Baby, you know that was harmless."

"Again with that FUCKING EXCUSE."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry, ok? You know I only have eyes for you. I don't even remember her name."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? I'm leaving."

"Let me take you home, ok?"

"I already booked a ride."

"No, those things are dangerous at night. I'm not letting you leave in a cab," he insisted, without waiting for your reply he led you to the parking lot where his Harley was parked. Without any further protests, you let him firmly place your helmet on your head. Within just a month of dating, Jungkook had already arranged customised helmets for both of you as a couple. Though it might have seemed a bit tacky to some, it was his way of expressing a significant commitment, almost like a symbol of marriage in his eyes.

The ride was silent. Only him rubbing your thighs once in a while. You had time to think the whole ride. Contemplate every situation till now that has led up to this moment. Every time that he had flirted with other women and made you feel like shit, invisible. Every time he says 'oh but baby, at the end of the day I come back to you.' You have decided. You were done feeling like shit.

As the motorcycle came to a halt, you realized he had brought you to his place instead of your own. While you hadn't officially moved in together, it felt like you practically had, given the amount of time you spent there and the belongings you had at his place. The fact that he took you there didn't even surprise you; it was a place that felt like 'home' to both of you.

"Jungkook why'd you take me to your place. I said take me home."

"This is home, baby." He said helping you off his bike and taking off both of your helmets. "Let's just go upstairs and talk this out, then I'll make you cum and we'll go to sleep."

The short elevator ride to the upstairs apartment felt much longer, with neither of you uttering a word. As you entered and took off your jackets, you let out a sigh. The impending conversation was something you had been dreading, but you knew there was no other option; it had to be done. The atmosphere was heavy with tension as you prepared to address the issues that had been bothering you.

"Jungkook."

"Baby." He mocked your tone.

"Sit down." You pointed at the couch.

"Is this an intervention?" He asked with a grin.

"Just sit." He followed your order and stared at you with those big doe eyes that stopped you from breaking up with him until now. "I love this POV. Your tits look amazing."

"Jungkook, be serious."

"Why, do you keep calling me Jungkook. It's Koo and Baby for you."

Ignoring the comment you continued with your speech.

"Jungkook... I, I don't think this is working anymore." You said.

"What is not working? Baby, we're fine."

"No we're not. I've been waiting for you to grow out of this...fuckboy phase but it's been three years, Jungkook and you still haven't changed. It's even worse now."

"Come on, is this about Ally?"

"So you do remember her name."

"Does it matter? It was just some harmless flirting, I swear. I even told her I have a girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm so flattered," you retorted, the sarcasm evident in your voice, which seemed to annoy him slightly. Your frustration and displeasure were clear, as you couldn't overlook the impact of his behavior on your feelings.

"Look, what am I supposed to do? Stop talking to women? Is that what you want?"

"Oh my god, do you not see?" you exclaimed, your emotions pouring out. "You entertain them and flirt with them, and it makes me feel terrible, Jungkook. I'm your girlfriend, yet you don't even bother to introduce me to these women. And you call it harmless flirting? What about this?" You pulled out a piece of paper from his front pocket, confronting him with evidence of his actions.

"I had no idea she slipped it in my pocket."

"I saw you take it from her."

"But I was not going to call. I swear, baby. You know I would never. I only took that so-"

"So what? So she would wait around the whole night for you to call? That's even worse."

"Babe, look. I'm sorry. I'll do anything you want me to do. I made a mistake and I won't do it again, I promise. I swear on it."

"You don't have to. You can call her if you want to. We are done here," you declared firmly, your decision made. His eyes widened in response to your decisive words, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm breaking up with you, Jungkook. It's just not working for me anymore. I'm so tired of your behavior," you expressed with a heavy heart. He was now on his knees before you, tears welling up in his eyes but not yet streaming down his cheeks. Despite the pain, you knew that ending the relationship was the best decision for your well-being and emotional health.

"No no, baby, no. We are not breaking up."

"No. Jungkook we're done."

"No."

"What do you mean no? This is not how it works."

"I'll be better, ok? I promise. Please don't break up with me. I can't live without you. Please. I'll do anything you want. I'll prove it to you." The tears were falling down now. And as much as it hurt to watch him cry you were going to stand firm on your decision. "Let me make it up to you, baby. Please." When his shaking lips made contact with yours you couldn't push him away. One last time wouldn't hurt right? Maybe you'll give him this one last time. God knows he needed this. You needed this.

So you let him. Didn't stop him when he picked you up and took you to yo- his bedroom, Laid you down on his bed, undressed you. You didn't stop him when he kissed down your body, brought you to your high with his mouth. You let him love you one last time.

******

Breaking up with Jungkook had been difficult, and it's been a week since then. The impact of the breakup weighed heavily on you as well, despite your decision being the right one. You cared deeply for him, though maybe not to the same extreme extent as he did for you, it seemed his love for you bordered on being overly intense and possibly unhealthy.

The breakup had also left you feeling deeply saddened and missing him greatly. However, the impact on Jungkook was even more profound, and describing it as devastating would be an understatement. The next day, as you began getting ready to leave, you noticed Jungkook gazing at you with a lost and vulnerable expression, like a bewildered bunny. It was heartbreaking to witness, and you had to gently remind him that you had broken up with him the night before. The pain of the breakup was evident in his eyes, and it made the situation even more challenging for both of you.

"But, baby we had sex."

"Sex doesn't fix everything, Jungkook. I'm still breaking up with you. It was goodbye sex."

Jungkook was frantic when he realised you were serious about the breakup. Begged you to stay but you had already made up your mind.

Seeing the overwhelming number of missed calls and text messages from your ex-boyfriend, you let out a sigh. Despite the breakup, he was persistently trying to reach out to you, with all the messages saying almost the same thing. While you believed that blocking someone was immature and didn't want to stoop to that level, his relentless badgering was becoming too much to handle. If he continued this behavior, you might eventually have no choice but to block him on your contacts and social media platforms.

As your phone blared for the 58th time, your coworkers shot glares in your direction, clearly annoyed by the constant interruptions. Feeling apologetic, you flashed them a smile and finally picked up the phone.

"I swear to god, Jungkook. I will block you if you don't stop calling me."

"Baby-"

"No, Jungkook. No baby. We broke up remember?"

"You broke up with me, I never accepted it. You're still my baby."

"Jungkook I'm serious. Stop calling me. I will block you."

"You won't."

"Try me."

"Come outside?"

"What? Kook, I'm not home."

"I know. I'm outside your office. They won't let me in."

"Yes I told them not to. What are you doing here? Jungkook you have a job too, you know that right?"

"I know. But it's not important right now."

"Not important right now? That's your only source of income." You reminded him, resting your forehead on your hand.

"I don't care. What will I do with the money if you're not with me?"

"Pay your bills?"

"Come outside. I wanna see you."

"I can't. I already had my lunch break. Look, Jungkook, just go back home, ok? Don't do this to yourself. I'm hanging up. Don't call me again or I will block you." You ended the call without waiting for a reply, and the calls finally stopped, but the messages persisted. Deciding it was necessary for your peace of mind, you muted his contact to temporarily shield yourself from the continuous messages.

It was 4 hours later you were exiting the office building with your coworkers when one of them pointed something out.

"Is that Jungkook?" Sherry said and you turned your attention to where she was pointing, and to your surprise, there was Jungkook sitting on one of the benches just outside the building. He stood up with a hopeful smile and waved at you as you approached. His unexpected appearance caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions at seeing him again after the breakup.

"You guys go. I'll talk to him."

As your coworkers questioned if you were okay, you gave a simple nod to reassure them. However, you couldn't hide the glare in your eyes as Jungkook approached you. The mix of emotions inside you was evident, but you tried your best to maintain composure in front of your colleagues.

"What are you still doing here, Kook?"

"Well you told me not to call you again and your guard wouldn't let me in so I had no other option."

"Yes you did. You had the option to go home."

"But I wanted to see you." Oh god it was frustrating. You are not even surprised that he's acting like a child. He has always been like this, nagging and pestering until you give him what he wants. You are actually more surprised by the fact that he waited a whole week before showing up at your workplace.

"So what you just wait here for 4 hours?"

"No .. 8 hours. I've been here since morning."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

"No. Ask your guards. We are friends now." You closed your eyes to calm yourself.

You spoke with concern in your voice, realizing that Jungkook's actions were not healthy for him. "Jungkook, this is not healthy… Why are you doing this to yourself?" you asked, genuinely worried about the toll the breakup was taking on him. You understood that he was struggling with the situation, but his continuous attempts to contact you were not helping anybody.

"Baby, I'll do anything to prove to you that I want you back."

You expressed firmly, "That's not going to change anything. We are not getting back together." You reiterated your stance, hoping he would come to accept it and eventually find a way to move forward.

"You're saying that now."

"No. My answer is not going to change." He looked unconvinced. "At least tell me you ate something?" a small smile crept across your face as you heard his stomach loudly grumble in response to your question. You decided to set aside your differences momentarily and focus on making sure he was okay in the present moment.

"You still care about me?" Of course you still cared about him. You didn't break up with him because you don't love him anymore, you broke up because he was an asshole and you realised he was never going to change. And you have to keep reminding yourself that. He's never going to change.

"Where's your bike?"

"I didn't bring it. I don't like riding without you holding me."

"Did you bring your car at least?"

"I walked."

"You walked?"

"I figured that when you come back to me, we'd have to deal with the hassle of taking both of our cars back home and riding separately, which I didn't want to go through. So, I decided to walk instead."

"You're unbelievable." He just smiled at you as if it was a compliment. All you wanted was to go home, miss him to death and cry yourself to sleep while holding his old shirt. Was it too much to ask?

His stomach grumbled again. As if asking you to feed him. Jungkook knew he was not only torturing himself but you as well. Was this his strategy? Annoy you back in his arms?

"Fine. Let's go?"

"Are you taking me home?"

"No. I'm taking you to eat something."

"Then you're taking me home so I can fuck some sense into you and we can get past this?"

"You know what? I'm leaving. Die starving."

"No I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please feed me."

Despite your current feelings of frustration and hurt towards Jungkook, you chose to bring him to your home that night. It wasn't for any romantic reasons or to give in to his demands. Instead, you prepared a home-cooked meal for him, knowing that he likely hadn't been eating well, surviving on ramen, cereal, and a whole lot of alcohol. And you couldn't let him go to sleep hungry, so you set aside your emotions and cared for him, making sure he had a satisfying and enjoyable meal.

*******

"You know you can't take him back right? He's very toxic for you."

On that Sunday evening, you and your best friend, Jimin, had a movie night planned to lift your spirits. The hot topic of discussion was none other than Jeon Jungkook. Unlike the rest of your friends from college who always cheered for your relationship with Jungkook, Jimin was the only one who never rooted for you two. He had always expressed his concerns about Jungkook, labeling him as toxic, and reminding you that you deserved better. Back in college, you used to get upset with him, feeling he was always negative. Ironically, as time passed, you realized that Jimin was the only one who consistently stuck by your side, while your other friends became distant.

"I know I know. But you should have seen his face, Jimin. I felt like I kicked a puppy."

"So you just took him back to your place?"

"Only to feed him, I kicked him out after, I swear."

"Really?" Jimin asked, keenly observing the guilty expression on your face. He had an uncanny ability to detect when you were lying, almost like a human lie detector. You knew you couldn't hide anything from him, and in this moment, you couldn't escape his discerning gaze.

"Ok, fine, He did stay longer than I initially said," you admitted, knowing that Jimin could see through your attempt to hide the whole truth. His raised eyebrow made it clear that he was onto you. You confessed, knowing you couldn't keep anything from your perceptive friend. "We might have had sex on the kitchen counter... And the couch... And my bedroom. But I swear that's it. I'm not lying, I kicked him out and told him it was a mistake right after. Didn't even wait till morning."

The way Jimin said your name almost made you hide out of shame. "You can't retaliate. What happened to 'we are never getting back together'? Taylor Swift will be very disappointed in you."

"I know. I know, it was wrong. It was just a moment of weakness. I swear to god it won't happen again."

Feeling guilty and conflicted after Jungkook left, you realized he might have misunderstood, thinking there was still a chance but you were still determined to not give him another one. You knew you shouldn't have done what you did that night but God did it feel good. You knew for a fact that Jungkook had already ruined you sexually for any other men or your hands or even your vibrator. You tried doing it three times after breaking up with him but not once could you bring yourself to orgasm. You just gave up after the third time, just accepted the fact that you're not going to have an orgasm ever again. People live without having orgasms right?

That is why, when Jungkook stood so close to you last night, your body seemed to betray your intentions, and you found it hard to resist him. The lingering emotions and history between you both created a pull that was difficult to ignore.

As you cleaned up the kitchen after feeding Jungkook, you hoped he would leave soon. Knowing his tendencies, you knew he would try to sneak into your bed if you went to sleep while he was still there. So, you waited for the right moment to gather enough courage to kick him out. However, Jungkook had different plans in mind. Sneaking up behind you, he cornered you against the kitchen island, catching you by surprise. The close proximity left you heavy breathed and questioning your own decision.

In the heat of the moment, everything felt like a blur, and you couldn't recall who initiated the first move or who kissed whom first. It all happened so quickly. One second he was thanking you for the dinner, and the next, he was kissing you passionately, pulling you into the moment so deeply that you momentarily forgot about the complexities of your situation. You only remember how you were so desperate that neither of you even bothered undressing completely before he thrusted deep into you on that kitchen counter. You only remember cumming as he carried you to the couch and you rode him there. You only remember him slowly laying you down on your bed and making love to you.

"You're right, Jimin. I need to be stronger. I can't let him get to me like this. You know what? Next time, I'm not even going to look at his way if he shows up."

"Yes, that's the spirit. Ignore him like all those times he ignored you while flirting with that girl from the boba place." The expression of your face immediately turned sour after hearing his words. "I'm sorry. Too soon?" You only nodded in response.

"I can't believe I kept giving him chances after chances for so long. I should've listened to you in the first place; guys like Jungkook never change," you admitted, feeling regretful for not heeding Jimin's advice earlier. Reflecting on the past, you realized that you had been hopeful that Jungkook would change, but now you understood that some people's behaviors remain consistent despite the chances they are given.

"It's still not too late." As if on cue, there were a series of knocks on your front door, and you knew all too well who it was. The familiarity of Jungkook's knocking left you feeling a mix of emotions. Gosh, was it pathetic that you could tell Jungkook from the way he knocks? "Did you order something?" Jimin asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the look on your face.

"No. It's Jungkook."

"How do you know."

"I know." The knocks grew more impatient.

"Should we not open the door?"

"No. Let's ignore him." You said turning up the volume of your tv.

"Baby, did you change the locks? My key's not working." Instead of asking Jungkook to give back your keys you had settled for the less agonizing option and got your locks changed.

"Let's just pretend that we're not home," you suggested to your best friend. Hoping to avoid any confrontation, you both waited until the knocks finally stopped after what seemed like five minutes. Relieved, you thought your plan had worked, and you both resumed watching the movie. Unbeknownst to you, your ex-boyfriend had other plans and was determined to come inside some other way if you didn't let him in.

Jungkook had never been one to give up easily, whether it was in sports, academics, or winning back his girlfriend. He was determined to do whatever it took to have you back in his arms. Realizing his mistakes, he was now ready to redeem himself. Jungkook had heard about grand romantic gestures that people used to prove their love, and he was determined to do the same for you. Some people run through airports to stop the love of their life, while others write a hundred letters to confess their love. In Jungkook's case, he was willing to risk his life and climb seven floors to reach you, showing the depth of his determination to make things right.

Both you and Jimin were startled as the silence was broken by loud knocks on your bedroom window. The sudden sound startled both you and Jimin as you looked at each other thinking the other might have the answer.

"Is that-?" Jimin couldn't even finish his sentence before you swiftly got up and ran towards your bedroom. It was indeed Jungkook hanging outside your bedroom window.

"Oh my god, Jungkook, are you fucking kidding me?" You quickly opened the windows, concerned that he might fall and get seriously hurt. Jimin followed you to your bedroom and raised his eyebrows at the scene in front of him. You were screaming at Jungkook while he tried to explain himself, hanging from the window.

"This is what I've always been talking about," you continued in frustration, "You always act like a fucking child, doing ridiculous things to get your way. It's just ridiculous. You can't always get whatever you want by pulling stunts like this. You could seriously get injured, you seem to have no regard for yourself or anyone else. I'm so fuc-"

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

"None of your business. I want to talk to my girlfriend."

"Ex girlfriend."

"I said none of your business."

"Seriously, what the hell are you doing?" This time it was you asking, exasperated, as Jungkook continued to hang from the flimsy pipe outside your window. The precarious situation he put himself in only added to your frustration and concern.

"You weren't opening the door, what was I supposed to do?"

"NOT CLIMB UP THE FUCKING WALL LIKE A CREEP?"

"Can I please come in now? I don't think I can hold on to this pipe much longer." You and Jimin quickly helped the boy inside.

"Chim, can you please wait outside? I need to talk to him," you requested, and Jimin obliged, but not before warning Jungkook not to try anything or he would kick his ass. Jimin might have been smaller than your ex in size but damn that man can fight. With Jimin gone, you turned your attention back to Jungkook, ready to confront him about his reckless behavior and demand some answers.

"Care to explain yourself?"

"Baby, I miss you. So fucking much. You have no idea."

"This is insane. You have to know you're crossing a line, Jungkook. Not only are you acting like a fucking child, you're also putting your own life in danger."

"I know, I know I'm acting crazy. But how else do I show you how much you mean to me."

"Jungkook, if I meant to you that much you wouldn't make me feel like a shit in the first place."

"And I am sorry about that. I promise to be better, I wouldn't look at another woman ever again."

"Do you realize how many times we've had this conversation? It's too many, Jungkook," you expressed, "You always say the same things, but then you repeat the same mistakes all over again. I can't keep going back to you; it's just not healthy for either of us," you firmly stated, making it clear that you were determined to break this cycle and move on from the relationship.

"Baby, pl-" he walked closer to you only for you to back away.

"And you need to stop acting like this. You can't always act on impulse, you could've seriously hurt yourself."

"It's nothing. It's not that high anyway."

"It's seven floors."

"Actually, 8. I miscalculated, and well, you might wanna avoid Mrs. Katz for a while," Jungkook admitted with a hint of amusement in his voice. Despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn't help but laugh a little at his confession. Oh how much he had missed your laugh, he has always told you that you have the most beautiful laugh he has ever heard and to go without hearing it for more than a week? It's just torture.

"You have to leave."

"At least let-"

"No. Jungkook please, I can't do this. Not right now. You have to go," you said running your hands through your hair. "I miss you too, I really do. You have to understand that this is hard for me as well. And you doing all these things is not making anything easier. So please, for me, just leave." A single drop of tear fell down your left eye, you didn't have it in you anymore to back away as he walked toward you.

"Fine, I'll go now. But I won't stop," he declared, stopping right in front of you. "I won't stop until you realize that you're the one that I want. I won't stop until I convince you that you're the one for me, and I love you more than anything in this world. I'm not giving up on you, on us, baby. I don't care how long it takes, I'll beg you every day if I have to, but I won't stop until you come back to me."

His words were sincere, and you could see the determination in his eyes. A part of you desperately wanted to give in, to feel his embrace again, but you were also afraid. Afraid of going through the same cycle, afraid of getting hurt again. The conflict between your heart and mind was tearing you apart as you stood there, facing the man you still loved, but uncertain of what to do next.

He leaned closer, and you instinctively closed your eyes, expecting a kiss, but instead, you felt a light brush of his lips against your forehead. His touch was gentle, his thumbs wiping away your tears, and his lips seemingly kissing the tension away. He stayed like that for a few seconds, leaving you with mixed emotions as he showered you with affection. And with that, he left, not sparing a glance at the man in your living room. As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the love you still held for him and the need to protect yourself from potential heartache.

Like a good friend, Park Jimin didn't ask you any questions. He simply held you close, providing a comforting embrace as you sniffed against his chest all night.

*******

It's been almost a week since that conversation you had with Jungkook in your bedroom, and it's now apparent that you have a stalker. He's been following you around like a lost puppy for the better part of the week. At first, it was annoying, and you had frequent arguments with him about his behavior. But as the days passed, you've grown somewhat accustomed to his presence. Now, you mostly ignore him as he follows you around the city, giving him only the occasional side-eye before continuing with your daily routine.

Jungkook's constant presence has become both annoying and puzzling. You're not sure how he manages to track your every move or who leaked your information to him, but he seems to be everywhere. If you were riding the subway he was there sitting across you, if you were in a bar with your friends he was there scaring away all the guys that approached you, even when you were on office lunches he was sitting two tables away smiling at you. If it was anyone else it would have been creepy and you would hand them to the police but with Jungkook, sure it was annoying but also... Cute?

Sometimes he approaches you to say something or brings you flowers, while other times he simply waves at you from a distance or quietly observes you while you talk to your friends at a restaurant, much like he is doing now.

"Not to alarm you or anything but there's a really really hot but kinda creepy guy has been following us for 20 minutes now, I'm guessing more but I have only noticed him for 20," Mia was new in the city and in your office, she was also one of your only colleagues who has never seen Jungkook or didn't know who he was. Today you have taken Mia out for lunch and to show her around the city like she so politely asked you a few days ago.

"Don't look right now, but he's standing across the street, and he's looking right at you," Mia whispered, her tone laced with concern. "Should we lead him to the police station?"

Her words of concern brought a chuckle from you, which seemed to confuse Mia. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you, as Jungkook's persistent presence had become a bizarre and somewhat amusing part of your daily life. While Mia saw him as a potential threat, you couldn't help but find his actions, however creepy they might be, somewhat endearing. You assured Mia that you could handle the situation and that there was no need to involve the police.

You turned around to see Jungkook holding a roughly wrapped bundle of sunflowers and waving at you as soon as your eyes met. Of course you didn't bother to wave back.

"Don't worry, he's... he's harmless."

"Do you know that guy?"

"Yeah... Well it wouldn't sound very good if I say it. He's my ex boyfriend."

"Oh my god. Is he stalking you? Shouldn't you report him or something?"

"Oh no, no. Like I said, Jungkook is very harmless. To others… Very harmful for himself, though," you added with a mix of concern and amusement as Jungkook clumsily ran to cross the street, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car in the process.

As you and Mia continued walking, she looked back and forth between you and Jungkook, clearly unsure of how to react in this unusual situation. You could understand her confusion, as dealing with Jungkook's persistent presence was not something you had ever expected to be a part of your daily routine.

Jungkook finally spoke up when he got closer, saying, "I know you saw me."

"Then you must know that I'm ignoring you."

"You look gorgeous." The simple compliment caused a blush to creep up from your neck, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in response to Jungkook's words.

"I know."

"Babe, talk to me. Then I won't bother you the whole day. I promise." Jungkook's plea made you stop in your tracks, and even the girl beside you seemed surprised by your response, as you decided to give him a moment to talk.

"Fine. Talk," you said, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly signaling your skepticism but still willing to hear him out.

"Uhhh..." Jungkook hesitated, caught off guard by your willingness to listen. He struggled to find the right words, unsure of what to say beyond the usual apologies and expressions of missing you.

"These are for you." He said offering you the sunflowers. "You love them."

"You remember that?" It was surprising honestly, you weren't expecting Jungkook to remember some minute detail you mentioned in the passing.

What's more surprising is that Jungkook's eyes not once has drifted to the girl standing awkwardly beside you. To simply say that Mia was beautiful would be the understatement of the century. She was one of the most gorgeous women you've ever laid eyes on and had the body of a goddess. Honestly she made you doubt your sexuality for a second so the fact that Jungkook didn't even spare a glance at her was really surprising. Probably because he knows you'd be watching him like a hawk if he did but still, it's progress right?

"I do."

"By the way, this is Mia. My new colleague. Mia, this is Jungkook, my boyfrie...ex-boyfriend," you corrected yourself, catching Jungkook's reaction as his face seemed to brighten momentarily at your slip.

"I would say nice to meet you if you weren't being creepy and stalking us."

"He wasn't stalking us," you said, feeling a sudden urge to defend Jungkook, even though you were trying to keep your distance from him. "Stalking is a form of harassment, and I do not feel even slightly harassed by this man. He knows me and he wanted to talk to me, so he followed me here. You have no right to call him a stalker." Both Jungkook and Mia seemed taken aback by your strong defense of him.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"It's okay. Actually, there's the restaurant. I already made a reservation under my name. You should go in; I'll catch up with you in a sec," you said and Mia gave you a polite smile before walking towards the restaurant. As she left, you turned back to Jungkook and noticed his gaze fixed on you. There was no ogling of her ass as she walked away. Progress, you thought to yourself.

"What are you smiling at?"

"I love you." He said giving you those lovestruck puppy eyes.

"Shut up."

"You really do look gorgeous today," Jungkook said, and you couldn't help but look down at your simple outfit—a plain beige shirt and brown work pants. He thinks you look gorgeous in this boring ass outfit? You didn't think there was anything special about it. "You really do," he insisted. "I'm not just saying it to kiss up to you."

"What do you wanted to talk about?" you asked, brushing off his compliment and getting back to the point.

"You left some stuff at the apartment. They seem important. If you want I can bring them back to your place... or you can come by. Anytime." Your heart did drop a little. He wants you to pick your stuff up from his apartment? What happened to I'll try as long as it takes? Sure you're planning on getting those back anyway but hearing him say that... hurts a little.

"I can come pick them up. If you're around tonight. I'll also bring your key, I still have it." Why did saying it felt so official?

"Yeah cool..."

*******

Oh god it was so not cool. Jungkook was freaking the fuck out. The reality was sinking in, and it was not cool at all. You were going to pick up your stuff, and it felt like the official end was approaching. Until now, it felt like a temporary fight, where he could apologize and you'd come back to him. But now, it felt like a real breakup, and it was hitting him hard.

"Why the fuck did I have to say that? WHY THE FUCK? I'm such a fucking tool. I could have said anything, literally anything and what did I say? Pick your stuff up from my apartment. Why the fuck didn't I just get hit by that damn car instead?"

"Kook, calm down."

"What the fuck you mean calm down? She's gonna be here in two hours or something and she's gonna take the last pieces of her from this apartment and my miserable life and then she's gonna move on while I'll probably die alone because I can't ever love anybody as much as I love her." By the end of his rant all three of his hyungs were looking at him with mouth hung open.

"Bro, you've got issues."

"You think?" Jungkook sarcastically asked as he paused his pacing around the living room for a moment. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok, Jungkook's best friends, were gathered around him in the living room as the youngest ranted to them for an hour. Jungkook had called them as soon as he got back to his apartment, seeking their help to salvage the remaining pieces of his love life. True to their friendship, they all showed up within an hour. However, so far, none of them had been even slightly helpful, and Jungkook was now two bottles of wine down.

"Here's an idea," Hoseok offered. "Don't open the door when she comes here, she's gonna think you invited her and forgot, hence she can't take her stuff." All three men looked at Hoseok.

"Yes, Kook. And punch her dog while you're at it." Namjoon scoffed.

"At least I'm giving some advice. You guys are useless."

"Yes, Hobi hyung. And I appreciate that. But she already has a key she's just gonna get in and take her stuff and leave."

Yoongi finally broke his silence, offering his perspective. "You know what, JK? If she can't already see the efforts, maybe she's not worth it. You already spent a week following her around like a puppy, and she doesn't have the decency to acknowledge your efforts?" His words held a hint of frustration, clearly disappointed in your lack of response to Jungkook's attempts to win you back.

"She has every right to be mad at me. I was a horrible boyfriend. A week is nothing, even if it takes a year I'm still gonna try to do everything I can. And what efforts? All I've done is stalk her around, probably even made her uncomfortable."

"I agree with Yoongi, Jungkook. Maybe it's a sign that you should consider moving on," Namjoon gently suggested, feeling sympathy for his young friend. He had never seen Jungkook so frustrated and heartbroken before; usually, he has always been the life of the party, bringing joy to everyone around him. Witnessing him like this was truly disheartening.

"No, you guys don't understand. I love her. You know why I was always carefree about the future? Because I always knew it was her, I don't care what I do or what I am as long as its with her. She's it for me and I want her by my side for my whole life. I want to be hers more than I want to be anything. I want children, I want a dog, I want a marriage, I want everything with her and if she's not in the future I don't know what I am anymore. I don't know who I am without her." Jungkook's monologue has left everyone speechless and in awe.

"Dude you wanna get married? I never pegged you to be the one to get married?"

"Not right away but in the future, yes. Only if it's to her tho. I don't want anyone else."

"Wow... Never thought Jeon Jungkook would have children in his future." Yoongi knew him the longest and all through his fuckboy phase so it was hardest to digest for Yoongi.

"Well not anymore. The mother of my children wants a divorce."

"Did you say all that to her?" asked Namjoon.

"What?"

"That little speech you just gave? Does she know all that?"

"No... I guess we never got to talk about all those things. I realised all this after the break up anyway."

"Then tell her. Tell her everything you just said, exactly how you said it."

It was easier said than done. You arrived with a knock on his door an hour after the boys left. An hour which Jungkook spent cleaning every surface of his apartment so you wouldn't notice how pathetic his life has gotten after you left.

Upon seeing you walk into his apartment, Jungkook's mouth went dry. He couldn't help but notice how effortlessly beautiful you looked, even in the simplest of outfits. He still has no idea how you manage to look so beautiful in the dullest outfits ever. Your dress modestly covered your legs, and your top had a conservative neckline, not even a hint of cleavage was seen yet you still managed to radiate a captivating charm.

You were also wearing little to no makeup. He did not want to be one of those boyfriends who bragged about their girlfriends looking pretty without makeup but if it was a compitition he'd win. If situations was different he would have made a joke about you going to the church but he stops himself.

"You want some wine?" Jungkook asked.

"Sure. Did you clean the place?"

"Uh...oh yeah. Just a little." He replied pouring wine in two glasses and brought them out to you. You had to mentally remind yourself that this wasn't a romantic date; you were just here to pick up your belongings. Being back in his apartment after such a long time stirred up mixed emotions, and you couldn't help but feel your heart racing.

You took a sip of the wine, only to find it tasted terrible, and you immediately spit it out, making a disgusted face.

"Oh my god, is this the wine we tried making at home?"

"Yes."

"It's awful," you said, both of you bursting into laughter. "Oh my god, why do you still have this? Throw it out, it's literally trash."

"Nah… I like it sometimes… it goes well with that cheese you tried making," he said with a playful grin, recalling a failed culinary experiment from your past. The two of you shared a knowing look, the memories of your shared moments flooding back.

"Noooo that's disgusting... I can't believe you still eat that." You continued laughing. Ok focus, you're not here to have fun.

"Only sometimes... when I miss you." He said and your laughs stopped. "Baby I-"

"So? Where is all my thing?" You ask, completely ignoring the nickname.

"I'm sorry I didn't pack anything." Because I don't want to let you go. "Some of your clothes are still in the laundry room. We can start there." You headed to the compact laundry room, which was conveniently connected to his bathroom. Jungkook trailed behind you in silence as you began sifting through the sizable laundry baskets, searching for your clothes among the various items.

The atmosphere was a mix of awkwardness and nostalgia. Memories of the times you spent together flooded your mind as you touched the familiar fabrics. You tried your best to focus on the task at hand and not get lost in emotions that might cloud your judgment.

"Koo, you mixed up the dirty and clean basket again," you said, using the old nickname almost instinctively. Jungkook's ears perked up, and he couldn't help but notice the fondness in your voice as you gently pointed out his little mistake.

"Did I?"

"Yeah. Blue one is for the dirty laundry, and the white one is for the washed clothes. You mixed them all up, and now you'll have to wash 'em again," you said, teasingly holding up a definitely used Calvin Klein underwear from the clean laundry basket. It felt oddly domestic, and a sense of nostalgia washed over you. Part of you wanted to spend a little more time just doing this with him, the way you used to when you were together.

"Did you try washing my clothes?" You asked picking up your white, well now pink t shirt with your hands.

"I wanted to do something nice."

"That's sweet of you, but there's a reason I told you not to do the laundries. I do the laundries and you do…" You paused, catching yourself before you continued talking as if you were still a couple. It was a slip, and you needed to remind yourself of the reality. You were here to pack your clothes and leave, not to discuss how to divide chores between couples.

"Well you're not here anymore. So I do the laundries and I do the dishes."

"Right... I'll seperate my clothes and then pack them." As you started sorting through the clothes, memories flooded back when your hands grabbed a certain grey t-shirt. Tears welled up in your eyes, that t-shirt held significant meaning in your relationship. It was the first time you stayed at Jungkook's place, and he had given you that t-shirt to wear. You loved it so fucking much that you still wore it often. It represented a sweet and intimate moment between the two of you. Despite the emotions it stirred, you simply placed the t-shirt in his pile of clothes.

"What are you doing? That's your t shirt." He picked it up to put it back in your pile.

"No, it's yours."

"Yes but I gave it to you because you love it."

"Well we're not a couple anymore so I'm giving it back. How are we supposed to move on if-"

"Why are you so fixated on that?"

"On what?"

"On moving on." This was the first time after the break up you were seeing a glimmer of anger in Jungkook's eyes as he walked around the counter to come to your side.

"Well we have to move on, don't we? We can't keep living in the past."

"It's not the past yet. I still love you and you still love me. And don't you fucking say that you don't. Because you do."

"Well it doesn't matter. Love is not enough to work a relationship, Jungkook. We are not compatible."

"And who decided that? You? You suddenly know everything about compatibility?"

"Can't you see? We are fucking fighting over a fucking t shirt."

"No it's not about a t-shirt, we are fighting over the fact that you're giving up on our 3 years relationship so easily like it meant nothing to you."

"Easily? Do you think any of this is easy for me, Jungkook? Do you think I just want to fucking break your heart because I just want to give up? Do you have any idea how much courage it took for me to fucking walk into this apartment just to walk out for your life?"

"Well you could have fooled me. It sure as hell look like you don't give a flying fuck about us right now?"

"I don't give a fuck? How dare you say that? I have given the most fucks about this relationship out of the two of us." Your voices raised in intensity as you found yourselves in close proximity, chests nearly touching, and only a few inches of space between your faces. Despite the heated argument, you couldn't help but notice how his chest was heaving from all the emotions, and how strikingly handsome he looked tonight.

Jungkook was so angry that he had no idea what he was saying anymore. He was just venting his frustration and shouting whatever came to mind in the heat of the moment. But your mind had drifted away from deciphering his words. Instead, you found yourself fixated on his lips, the way the little freckle moved up and down with his lips, and how his hands gestured frantically as he tried to make his point. The intensity of the moment seemed to fade away, and you were lost in the small details that had once been so familiar to you.

"You know what? You're such a hypocrite. You've nagged me all this time for not making efforts, and now you don't even acknowledge any of them. Do you have any idea how cruel you are-?" Unlike last time, this time you remember who made the first move. You took him by surprise, grabbing his gray hoodie to pull him closer. It was you who pulled him down and pressed his lips against your own. The kiss was intense, filled with a mixture of frustration, love, and longing. In that moment, all the pent-up emotions seemed to find release, and you found yourself melting into each other's embrace, at least for a brief moment.

Jungkook doesn't know what the hell took over you, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining. No. It only took him a mere second to acknowledge the situation, but once he did, his arms were already around your waist, pulling you closer than physically possible. The intensity of the moment, the rush of emotions, it all felt overwhelming and right at the same time. The world seemed to fade away as you both embraced, holding on tightly to each other as if afraid to let go. It was a moment of surrender, a moment of pure vulnerability, and for that moment, everything else ceased to exist.

The silent laundry room filled up with the sound of lips smacking each other. And both of you trying to breath between your kisses. Kissing Jungkook has always been a treat in itself, you have had your fair share of lovers before Jungkook but none of them had ever kissed you like he did. Kissing with them was always sort of a task that you would have to go through until both of your clothes were off but not with him. With him kissing itself was such an amazing experience, you could and you had spent hours just kissing those lips, that's how good of a kisser Jungkook was.

Jungkook didn't only kiss with his lips; he kissed with his whole body. His hands explored every inch of your skin that was available to him. One hand was tracing the curve of your hips while the other moved up your back, sending shivers down your spine. The gentle squeeze of his hand on your ass elicited soft moans from you, and you felt your body responding to his touch in all the ways it used to when you were together. The physical connection between you two was undeniable, and it was as if no time had passed since your last intimate encounter.

Without breaking your kisses for a second, Jungkook swiftly picked you up and placed you on the counter, not caring that the laundry baskets fell to the floor. The kisses became more desperate and fervent, his tongue demanding authority inside your mouth. It was as if all the pent-up emotions and desires from the past week were being unleashed in this passionate moment, and neither of you could resist the pull of each other's lips and bodies.

"Wait, wait," You pulled away, panting with droopy eyes from the intensity of the moment. Your small hands gently pushed against his chest when he tried to lean in again. "What are we doing?" you asked, seeking clarity amidst the intoxicating rush of emotions and desire.

"I think, I think we are making out."

"No I mean... I'm not here to do this. This is not right."

"Who cares?" Jungkook shrugged, capturing your lips in another kiss. One much shorter than the previous.

"I do."

"Do you want this?"

"I do...but-" you were cut off by his plump lips.

"Let's talk about it later then... I miss you."

"I miss you too," you whispered, giving in to the overwhelming emotions and desires that filled the air between you both. With those words, you granted Jungkook the permission he needed to take things further. In that moment, you embraced the vulnerability of being human, unable to resist the pull of his charm and the way his body ignited your own.

His hands eagerly roamed along your back, searching for the zipper that must be hidden somewhere on the dress. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and your breath hitched as you felt his fingers deftly find the zipper's pull. The anticipation of what was to come next filled the air, and time seemed to slow down as he slowly, teasingly, pulled the zipper down.

"How was the meeting with the reverend?" He finally made the joke he had been dying to say all evening, making you smack his chest slightly

"Shut up. I thought if I didn't look hot, I'd make it easy on you." you playfully responded, justifying your choice of the dark green dress that covered most of your body.

"Are you kidding me? You can never not look hot. You are feeding my sexy liberarian fantasies." Ignoring his comment you started unzipping his gray hoodie revealing the white wife beater underneath.

"Meals you can skip, gym you can't?" You commented admiring the muscles adorning his shoulders chest and biceps. You shivered when his hand suddenly reached under your dress to caress your bare thighs. Close to your core which you were sure was practically drenched now.

"Can I take this off?" All you could do was nod in response and he ripped your dress off of you in mere seconds. "Gosh, baby, you're so beautiful." Jungkook whispered looking at your mismatched pair of cotton underwear. "Look at you... dripping already. You got this wet just with my kisses?" You shook your head in agreement as he gaped at your clothed pussy. A very noticeable and big patch of wetness covering your panties right at the centre. "I missed playing with your pussy so much. Did it miss me too, Baby?" Once again all you could do was nod when his fingers slowly started tracing shape on your clit. "Words, sweetheart."

"Yes... it missed you. Please do something, Koo." The way you mewled out the words sent blood rushing towards his already hard cock. That was all the encouragement he needed to push your panties to the side. His face lit up at the sight of your dewy folds. Slick dripping between the slit.

"What do you want first?"

"Fingers. I want your fingers." Jungkook quickly moved to take off his rings but you stopped him. "Fuck me with them." Jungkook almost came at your words, you never told him before that you liked getting off with his rings.

"You like the cold metal?" You couldn't answer the question as he started playing with the bundle of nerves, pinching it occasionally. All your words turned into whimpers. "Look your pussy baby. Begging of my fingers." He smirked before slowly entering your folds with his middle fingers.

"Ah... baby." You shakily reach out with your hand to bring his face near your chest. He seemed to understand the assignment as he quickly started nibbling at the skin of your breast, pulling down the cups to release your nipples which were now hard like pebbles.

Jungkook had a way of eliciting reactions from you as if it were the first time every time, despite having experienced it countless times over the past three years. It amazed you how he could still have such an impact on you after all this time.

"I missed having your tits on my face." Jungkook murmured before quickly taking one in his mouth. You moaned out incoherent words when his ring finger joined his middle finger inside your cunt. Thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hands found solace in Jungkook's hair as he continued leaving kisses all across your chest.

You let out a tiny whimper in protest when his fingers pulled out from you. He brought them up to his lips and gave them a suck, eyes looking deeply in your half closed once.

"Shhh don't worry, baby. I just want more access." You understood what he meant when he pulled you up easily with one hand to take off your panties and throwing it somewhere in the laundry room. "You know, you taste just as sweet as day one." He picked up some of your slick on his fingers and brought them closer to your lips. "Taste baby, taste how devine you are." You took his fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean. Jungkook's cock was now as hard as a rock. He quickly took one of your hands and guided them to his clothed boner in order to get some relief. Like muscle memory your your hands quickly started working on his crotch. Squeezing it just the right amount.

"Wanna suck your cock." You quickly said.

"Later. Let me have this cunt for now." He quickly bent down on his knees to swipe his tongue up your slit pulling out a sudden loud moan from you. "Yes baby. Keep screaming." He said before leaning forward and getting to work, lapping at your juices like a dog dying from thirst.

His two long fingers went back inside your seeping hole as his tongue started flicking your clit. His free hand grabbed your thigh and put it on his shoulder. You were halfway hanging from the counter and practically sitting on Jungkook's face. Jungkook on the other hand was in his heaven right now. Imagine two of the most favourite things to mankind, ass and pussy and then imagine being buried in them, Jungkook thought if he died right now right here, it would be the best death.

Your hips started moving in circular motion as you ground your pussy against his face. Hands tugging at his raven locks. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit. You looked down at the scene in front of you, Jungkook's eyes looking up at you and his mouth ate away at your pussy. The look of his face trapped between your thighs was so filthy that you almost came from it only.

His tongue had now replaced your fingers in poking and prodding inside your walls. His hand came around your hips to rub at your clit.

Jungkook loved eating your pussy and it showed. The way his eyes closed in pleasure only by bringing you close to your orgasm. He was a very selfless lover, he found pleasure in pleasing you and he could spend days licking your juices and playing with your pussy. Right now his goal was to make you cum, if you squirt then it would be a bonus.

"I'm close, Koo. Lick my clit please." And like the always obedient lover, he did. Fingers parting your pussy lips and tongue getting back to licking the bundle of nerves, lips wrapping around it to give it a suck now and then. The sounds you were making were pornographic to say the least. You were sure you sounded like one of those girls making high pitched noises in the porn videos but you couldn't help it. Jungkook made you behave like a whore and you loved it. You loved screaming his name and you loved making these obscene sounds, and Jungkook loved it even more.

"Koo, I'm cumming." You cried out. He started licking even faster at your words, helping you reach the high faster. His heart jumped with joy when he saw the juices coming out of you. He did it, he made you squirt. Your legs quivered around him as you came down from his high. He didn't stop there. He licked you until you were clean and drank every single droplet of your arousal. You were shaking from the orgasm and the oversensitivity you felt in your pussy.

With one last kiss to the hood of your clit Jungkook came up and you immediately pulled him in for a kiss. You were determined to pleasure him like he did you. Shaking hands fidgeting with his clothes as you tugged at his lip ring with your teeth.

"Slow down baby." He helped you take of his wife beater.

"Can't. Want your cock." You were once again drunk on arousal. Your hands worked as quick as they could after that earth shattering orgasm to pull out his cock from his sweatpants. Mouth watering at the sight once it finally did.

Jungkook had the most beautiful and delicious cock you have ever seen. It was long and thick with just the perfect mushroom tip, which was now swollen and red and leaking from precum. The veins in his cock were imitating the veins on his arms, ready to pop any minute. Your thumb already started doing its job by spreading the precum all over his tip.

The groan he let out as your hand played with his cock was very loud. Almost as if giving you a warning.

"Is baby a cockslut?" He asked, reaching out to trace your lips with his tumba. The same thumb that was rubbing your clit only a minute ago.

"Only for you."

"Yes. Only mine."

"Wanna suck your cock." You pleaded once again.

"Go ahead, babygirl. Do whatever you want." You took that as permission to sink down on your knees and come face to face with his throbbing penis which was begging for your attention. Your hands stroked him slowly up and down and tongue came out to tease the top. "Don't tease, baby." You giggles once he used his heavy tip slap you slightly.

You looked up at him, making the most innocent face as you collected some spit in your mouth and then spit on his cock to lather it up with some slick. You slowly took the warm tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it like a lollipop.

"Just like that, babe." Jungkook sighed out and his words arrange you to take him in inch by inch until he was in your throat. One of your hands came up to play with his balls. His moans were now louder working as your inspiration to please him more. You loved the way he said your name. Moaned your name like you were some goddess that he was praying to.

Your head started bobbing up and down as you took him in and out of your mouth. Tongue continuously playing with the warm slit on tip of his cock.

"Fuck my mouth." You said once you took him out completely.

"You sure?" You only responded with a nod and that was all the answer that he needed to grab the back of your head and start thrusting in your mouth. You angled your teeth in a way you knew he loved. In a way that they grazed his shaft enough to feel but not enough to hurt. His tip was bumping at the back of your throat as one of your hand kept playing with his balls.

He pulled out of your mouth too soon to your liking and you gave him a questioning look.

"I'll cum if we kept going. I wanna cum in your pussy." Jungkook did not take one more second to pull you up and bend you against the counter. Fingers once again playing with your entrence to make sure you were wet enough to enter. "Look at you. You are wet again already, baby. Such a fucking whore." Although his words might have offended you naturally but right now they just added to your arousal. "My little whore wants to get fucked?" His hands digging in the flesh of your ass, slapping it to make it jiggle.

"Yes, Kookie. Please, fuck me." You begged, splayed out on your front on the cold counter. His cock was running along your pussy, poking in your slit but not really entering. "Stop teasing me you, asshole." You screamed earning a chuckle from the man behind you.

"This is what you get for being so mean to me." The loud smack that came at the flesh of your ass was very unexpected. "Tell me you forgive me and I'll fuck you." He bargained.

"No." Another smack making you yelp out from pleasure and pain. Your cunt once again was dripping from your arousal and this asshole was doing absolutely nothing about it. Wasn't he turned on too?

"Say or I won't fuck you."

"You're an asshole"

"That's not the answer."

"Fine. I forgive you. Just fuck me, please." Jungkook laughed at the way you begged.

"See. It wasn't that hard." He finally sink into you. A synchronised moan escaped the both of you once he was completely inside. "So warm and tight, baby. The best pussy ever."

"Jungkook, faster." You moaned and he obliged instantly. Your ass jiggling as he started snapping into you in a fast rhythm. His cock was hitting you in all the right places, he had found your g-spot instantly. One of his hands sneaked to the front to rub your clit as the other pulled you back and held you against his chest.

You hiked one of your legs up on the counter to get better angle and feel all of him in all the right places. Jungkook kept grunting in your ear, letting out words of encouragement, telling you how good you were holding up and how wonderful your pussy was.

Your breast bounced up and down as he pulled out of you and pushed in with equal force. His fingers kept rubbing and flicking your clit side to side and soon you were close to your climax.

"Jungkook I'm close."

"Hold it."

"Can't," you were cut off by your own moan at another hit against your g spot. "Can't hold it for long."

"Just for a little, baby. I'm close too." His hand turns your jaw sideways to capture your lips, drinking all of your moans. Just a few thrusts of his later he was almost there. "On the count of 3, ok baby?" You nodded against his lips.

"One." He slapped your clit, earning a loud moan from you.

"Two." His hand tucked and pinched at your nipples.

"Three." With one final thrust the both of you came down from your climax with a loud scream.

"Oh god I love you. I love you so much baby." Jungkook said as his seeds filled your pussy up to the brim.

*******

"What are you doing?" Jungkook looked at you confusingly as you pulled on your clothes 15 minutes after having sex with him. Although he did clean you up there was still some of his cum inside you right now.

"I can't go out naked."

"Why do you have to go out?"

"Because I don't live here? We are still broken up, Jungkook." Your words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What? But we... we just had sex... you said you forgave me."

"Don't act like you never said anything to get whatever you want." You said looking for your panties. "Where the fuck are my panties?"

"What do you m- did you just say that to have sex with me?" He said as you looked for another pair of panties in the laundry basket. "I feel so used right now."

"Don't be dramatic."

"But baby... I thought we made up. Please don't leave now."

"Jungkook... You want to win me back? Do it without sex. The sex was amazing but I'm sorry it did not solve anything. I still feel the same and you still haven't gave me any assurance."

"So we're still broken up?"

"Yes. I'll pickup my things some other time. I'm leaving." He sighed knowing there was no point in arguing. You were nothing if not stubborn.

"At least let me drop you off. It's getting late."

"It's ok. I called Taehyung when you were in the bathroom. He's already outside probably." You said, checking the time in you wrist watch.

"Fucking Taehyung." Jungkook muttered under his breath.

"Bye, Jungkook. Don't torture yourself, please."

*******

"Oh the walk of shame." Taehyung teased you when you walked out of a certain apartment building to his awaiting car.

"Shut up, Tae. If I wanted to be judged, I'd have called Jimin." Taehyung was your other best friend, and although you hadn't known each other for long, he quickly warmed his way into your heart. Ironically, you met Taehyung through Jungkook; he was Namjoon's cousin. However, now he was closer to you and Jimin than he was to Jungkook. You first met Taehyung at a club where Jungkook had dragged you with his office friends. Despite hitting on you initially, he politely backed off when you declined, and you both ended up spending the rest of the night talking and bonding over feeling neglected by the people who dragged you to the club.

"He's going to have field day with this." Taehyung chuckled as he drove away from the building.

"That's why we're not telling him."

"Fine by me, if you think you can lie to him."

"Oh god. What did I do?"

"Look, babe. I don't know what to say, you clearly still love him and he's clearly still obsessed with you. You are only torturing yourself by trying to stay away from him."

"I just... It's not enough you know. I know he loves me, more than anything but if I get back with him who's to say a week later he just won't go back to his usual self? I'm just scared Taehyung, I just don't want to get hurt. I don't want to be one of those women in the future who just sits at home and waits for her husband while he's out their flirting with a waitress or something."

"I just hope you'd stop hurting. Nothing else." He gave you a sympathetic smile and held your hand for the whole drive.

*******

Life can be cruel, and it seemed like the universe wasn't on your side. You want something so much and when you'd finally have it, you don't want it anymore. You had wanted space from Jungkook and asked for it repeatedly, but now that he had given you that space for the past six days, you couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was missing from your life. It was as if a big piece of your heart was absent, and you found yourself longing for his presence once again.

Six days had passed since you left Jungkook's place in Taehyung's car, and during that time, he hadn't reached out to you even once. There were no phone calls, no text messages, and no unexpected appearances at random places. It felt strange and unfamiliar not having him actively pursuing you, and it only added to the confusion and uncertainty swirling in your mind.

Every time you made a turn or entered a cafe, a part of you half-expected Jungkook to be there, waving at you with that familiar, endearing smile on his face. But each time, you found yourself disappointed as there was no sign of him. The absence of his constant presence was both a relief and a pang of longing, leaving you torn between wanting to move on and wanting him to come back into your life.

Wasn't this what you wanted? For him to stop obsessing over you and move on with his life? However, now that he had seemingly taken a step back, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. A part of you wanted him to fight for you, to prove that he was willing to change and make things work. Another part of you longed for his familiar presence and the comfort that came with it.

"Did you hear any of the words I just said?" Mia asked you and you gave her a guilty smile.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little preoccupied today."

"Is this about Jungkook again?"

"I'm so sorry... I think this is a very bad idea. I really don't want to disrespect your friend." When Mia suggested the double date with her boyfriend and their friend a few days ago you were very skeptical about it. You didn't want to get into anything right now with the mess that your head was but after discussing it with Jimin and Taehyung, they convinced you that you should go, to take your mind off of things for a bit. Double dates are nothing serious, it was just a way to lighten up your mood. Although now you were regretting the whole ordeal. You shouldn't have come here. Not only was your mood very sour but it was also very evident on your face.

"Oh no. You wouldn't. Trust me. Actually the thing is Chris is going through a bad breakup as well and Jisung and I thought you could, you know help each other out or something."

"That's very sweet of you, Mia. But you sure I wouldn't ruin the whole thing?"

"Oh don't worry at all. And even if it does not go well nothing will be ruined between us. We'll laugh about it later." You gave her a grateful smile when she rubbed your hands.

A few seconds later, the bell of the restaurant rang, and two very attractive men walked in. As the woman beside you stood up, you realized that they were your dates. Mia quickly introduced you to her boyfriend Jisung and your date Chris. You were relieved that Chris wasn't at least horrible looking, and you hoped you could get through this one date.

"Wow, they did not mention how beautiful you are," Chris said as he shook your hand and took the seat in front of you. You couldn't help but wonder how many times he used this line, but then you reminded yourself that not every guy is a player. For all you know, Chris could be a very sweet guy who was genuinely complimenting you.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," you replied with a polite smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself getting more comfortable around Chris. He was easy to talk to, which helped lighten your mood. But despite being a genuinely sweet guy, you couldn't help but compare Chris to Jungkook. Whether it was the way he spoke, sat, or even called for the waiter, Chris lacked the same level of confidence that Jungkook possessed. Even on your first date, Jungkook had a way of making you feel like you had known him forever.

You observed that Chris couldn't hold a candle to Jungkook when it came to a sense of humor. While Jungkook was effortlessly funny, Chris tended to build up to a joke too much, and it often fell flat, leaving you with no choice but to give him pity laughs.

You had to consciously remind yourself to stop comparing this man to your ex boyfriend. Chris might not be as funny, or confident, or curious, or smart, or handsome, or cute, or witty, or energetic, or adventurous, or a good wine orderer as Jungkook but he was still a decent person. Perhaps, if you gave him a chance, things could potentially go well. It was essential to keep an open mind and not let your past experiences cloud your judgment.

The mention of your name from the man in front of you snapped you out of your train of thoughts. "So, tell me something about yourself," he said, and you suddenly realized that all three pairs of eyes were expectantly on you. Not knowing exactly what to say, you started talking about your work. With Jungkook, this was never an issue; conversation always flowed effortlessly, even in the early stages of your relationship.

"Oh… um well, I recently got promoted to a junior copywriter in our advertising company," you replied, giving him a small smile.

"No none of the boring work stuff. Tell me about yourself. What are your interests?" he asked, and you were slightly surprised by his directness. Didn't Mia mention he was going through a breakup as well? Must have been one happy breakup if he was still so cheerful.

"I... I like horror movies."

"Oh, I can't stand horror movies," Chris replied. Jungkook, on the other hand, loved horror movies. Every weekend, the two of you would go watch horror films or shows and then mock the scary scenes together. He adored seeing you jump at the jump scares and relished the opportunity to hold you close in his arms to "console" you.

"Then what kind of movies do you like?"

"I'm more into non-fiction and political cinema, and occasionally documentaries," he said. His response didn't exactly excite you, and you wondered if he was just trying to impress you or if his taste in movies was genuinely that dull. If it was the former he was doing a very bad job.

"Prude," Mia's boyfriend, Jisung, let out a cough, and it actually made you laugh, realizing it might be the first time you've genuinely laughed during this date. Normally, Jungkook would have already… No, no more thinking about Jungkook.

"I think it's adorable that Chris gets his jollies from 'our planet'." You laughed again, finding some amusement in the conversation. This date might end up being a little more bearable after all.

Finding an opening, you slipped into a conversation with Mia and Jisung instead of focusing solely on Chris. You couldn't help but awe at how adorable of a couple Mia and Jisung were. They recently celebrated their 1-year anniversary. Jisung was much younger but despite the age difference, they seemed so happy and in love. They reminded you so much of you and Jungkook. While Jungkook might not have been younger than you, he was definitely the more mischievous and playful one in the relationship, while you tended to be more responsible and level-headed.

"Do you happen to know the guy sitting behind you? Because he has been glaring at me like I just stole his kids and traded them for wool," Chris said, catching Mia's attention first. She turned around, and you followed suit, curious to see who was giving Chris such a fierce look.

To your surprise, it was none other than Jeon Jungkook sitting at the table behind you, and he wasn't alone. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon were with him. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his, and a myriad of emotions surged through you, but one was the most overwhelming of them all. Guilt.

Regret washed over you as you realized the impact your decision to go on this date had on Jungkook. His hurt expression tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for putting yourself in this situation. It was clear that this double date was a mistake, and you were left grappling with your emotions and the consequences of your choices.

Feeling overwhelmed and needing a moment alone, you excused yourself from the table without waiting for any response from the others. You rushed through the restaurant, trying to find a washroom where you could collect your thoughts and emotions. The encounter with Jungkook had caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had intentionally come here like he did that past week or if it was just actually a coincidence.

"So we're dating other people now?" He sounded hurt when he stepped in behind you in the restroom.

"Kook, this is not what it looks like."

"I'm not mad. I'm just surprised."

"You're not?"

"Maybe a little."

"Where were you for the past six days?" You turned the question on him.

"So I disappear for a week and you start dating someone else. Thought it would take at least 30 days to move on from a 3 year relationship." His remark was bitter but you knew where he came from.

"Kook, it's not what it looks like," you said, stepping closer to him, feeling the need to explain yourself even though you knew you didn't owe him anything. After all, you were not together anymore, and it had been almost three weeks since the breakup.

"By the way I didn't disappear because I was giving up on us. I was just trying to give you some space. Our friends forced me to give you some space," He said "I wouldn't have if I knew..."

"Jungkook,"

"What's his name?"

"Don't do this to yourself."

"What does he do? I mean we can still be friends right? I know it-" you cut of his words by pressing your lips against his in a very soft kiss.

"Koo, you presence was not so insignificant in my life that I'd forget you in a week." Your words brought a hint of smile on his lips. He let out a sigh in relief.

"Oh thank God, I thought I lost you to that leprechaun."

"Hey," you scolded him. "I swear to god if you pick a fight with him on the way out, I'll whoop your ass."

"That would be so hot." There he was. Your precious Jungkook.

"But we're still not back together." The smile left his face as soon as it came. "Kook... I'm still not yours but... Make me. I'm willing to give you another chance but... You have to assure me that it will be worth it. Win me back and I'm yours."

"I will, baby. I'll show you how devoted I am." With one last kiss on your lips he left the restroom.

As Jungkook left the restroom with a newfound sense of hope and determination, you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he was ready to face the challenge of winning you back with all his heart.

As you returned to the table, Mia and Chris looked at you curiously. "Is everything okay?" Mia asked with concern.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just had a little chat."

Chris raised an eyebrow playfully. "A little chat, huh? Well, I hope it was a good one."

You glanced back at the restroom door, feeling a mix of emotions inside you. "Yeah, it was," you replied, your heart a little lighter than before.

*******

And the cycle began anew on the following day. The affectionate text messages resumed, starting from the sweet 'good morning' greetings to heartfelt 'I love you's. You received a bouquet of a 100 sunflowers on your desk with a note that only read 'because roses are cliche'. He sent boba at your office because you hated coffee and he sent you sushi's from your favourite restaurant.

It was like a cycle. Once again he was following you around the city but this time you didn't roll your eyes at him, didn't cuss him out or ask him to leave you alone. You even heard from Jimin and Taehyung that Jungkook deleted his Snapchat and Instagram. Jimin was the most shocked one at the news. 'Oh my god is Jungkook actually trying to redeem himself?'

You laughed as Jungkook ran after your subway because he was a minute too late and couldn't get in as it left the station. But like the lovely ex-girlfriend you were you decided to get off on the next station to wait for him. And like you expected 10 minutes later a you saw Jungkook running down the stairs, eyes looking for you. Quickly running up to you when he found you.

"Did you run here?" He didn't answer you but only because he was too busy catching his breath.

"There are trains only two minutes apart."

"I...I know that" He said between catching his breath. "But that... would not... have been very romantic."

"And what if I didn't get off at this station."

"I would run to your office."

"You're crazy."

"Only for you."

One more week goes by with Jungkook showing you in every way how much you mean to him. You were finally starting to get the assurance and security that you have always craved for your relationship. You were finally starting to see the depths of Jungkook's devotion. The smile on your face now was just a constant. And there were only two reasons for it, Jungkook and thoughts of Jungkook.

"So, how's everything going with your crazy stalker ex?" One night Jimin playfully commented when you him and Taehyung were spending it at your place.

"Don't call him crazy."

"Fine. How's your completely sane stalker ex?" You only roll your eyes but soon started smiling widely. "Oh my god guys... He's the sweetest. I don't think I've seen him putting this much efforts in to anything like ever."

"Yeah, Namjoon says he's so whipped for you that it's disgusting." Taehyung's comment makes you blush. "So? When are you getting back together with him."

"I don't know. I mean I know. But, I don't know, should I initiate it? Should I wait for him to ask me again? Should I ask him to ask me again?"

"Don't think too much about it. If you wanna be with him, be with him." Taehyung being the ever level headed one said.

"I say make him work some more. That man had you going crazy for three years, the least jail time he deserves is three months." Jimin said sipping on his margarita.

"Don't listen to, Jimin. In fact call him right now."

"No, don't call him right now. This is our night. Don't be a simp."

"Did you guys bet against me and Jungkook?" You asked looking between both of your friends who looked like deers caught in a headlight. "Who else?"

"Just Jimin and I... and Namjoon and Yoongi and Hoseok." You gasped dramatically at your unbelievable friends.

"If either of you win, I want my cut."

The next day you were surprised to not see the usual series of morning texts that you get from Jungkook. There were no flowers outside your doorstep or your desk. Nobody sent you boba or lunch and you could say that you were having a very Jungkook less day today. The lack of your cute stalker ex has taken a toll on your mood and you found yourself becoming increasingly snappy and cranky with others, unable to shake off the disappointment and longing for his attention. This made you realise how much accustomed you have become to Jungkook.

You looked longingly at your phone but there was nothing, still no text, no calls. You could always be the mature one and call him to see what was the matter but a part of you hesitated, not wanting to appear too eager or like you were desperately missing him. After all, he had been the one pursuing you, and you didn't want to reverse those roles.

Soon it was time to get off from work, and with a series of goodbyes and good evenings you quickly left your office, You couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook would be waiting for you outside, just like he used to do. However, as you stepped out, there was no sign of him, and the reality sank in that he wasn't there. Still holding onto a glimmer of hope, you decided to wait for a little while, thinking he might show up a bit late. You stood there, keeping an eye out for any sign of him, and time seemed to slow down. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and you were torn between staying and leaving.

Soon the guard to the building adviced you to leave saying that their was a big storm on the way. You quickly looked up the weather forecast to realise that he was right indeed. You looked up at the sky to see the angry black clouds had started to gather around.

Searching for his contact you finally decided to give him a call. You were seriously getting worried about Jungkook now. As the call went straight to voicemail, your worry for Jungkook intensified.

Deciding it was the only choice, you headed towards Jungkook's place instead of your own, opting for a cab over the subway to reach him quickly.

Your excitement soared when your phone finally rang after a long day of silence. But, it quickly turned to disappointment as you noticed an unknown number instead of the one you had been eagerly waiting for. Despite the uncertainty, you chose to answer the call, just in case it was something important.

The voice asking for you on the other side was definitely unknown.

"Yes this is she." You replied.

"I'm speaking from Hope Memorial Hospital. You are listed as an emergency contact for a Jeon Jungkook. He has been involved in a motorcycle crash, and it's a very serious accident. We urgently need a guardian. Are you able to assist, or could you direct us to someone else?" The voice on the other end was serious and panicked, but you found it hard to accept the gravity of the situation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and tears streamed down your face, hoping that it wasn't as critical as it sounded.

"No, it's okay. I'll be there in... 10 minutes," you replied, your voice shaky but determined. You swiftly instructed the cab driver to change the route, urging him to go faster as you anxiously bit your nails in anticipation.

During the ride, you tried to stay strong and reassure yourself that it might not be as critical as you feared. Your mind couldn't help but drift to the worst-case scenario. What if he was already... No, no, no, you couldn't bear to think that way. You pushed those thoughts aside, trying to stay positive and hopeful as you rushed towards the hospital.

The driver observed you with sympathy as you quietly wept in the back seat. Regret filled your heart as you realized you should have called him. You blamed yourself, thinking that it was all your fault, and if anything happened to him, it would be on you.

As the car came to a stop, you hastily tossed all the remaining cash at the driver and rushed inside the hospital. Your must have looked frantic as you ran around, sobbing and calling out Jungkook's name. Thankfully, a compassionate nurse came to your aid and calmly checked the hospital charts for the name you managed to utter amidst your sobs.

"Come with me, dear. He's in the ER," you swiftly followed the nurse to a bustling room. As the nurse drew back the curtain, you braced yourself for the worst—expecting to see Jungkook badly injured, bleeding, or worse. However, what you did not anticipate was finding Jungkook sitting there, looking.... perfectly fine?

You stared at the man sitting there, feeling a mix of confusion and relief. He was laughing at something the blond girl standing beside him had said. It was unexpected, given the seriousness of the call you received earlier. You couldn't help but wonder if there had been a mistake or if he had recovered miraculously.

"Baby, you came." His eyes lit up as soon as he saw you, there was not even a single scratch on Jeon Jungkook, maybe beside the scratched leather jacket. Now not to get you wrong, you were very happy that he was okay. You were just very confused. What was happening? You had stopped sobbing breathlessly but the tears were still flowing.

"I don't understand... Somebody called, they said... That something happened and it was serious." You tried explaining.

"I did get into a crash but it was nothing. They thought it was internal bleeding but that wasn't the case either. That's why I was here all afternoon, doing tests an all. But now I'm fine."

"Then why did they say that?"

"It was just a prank. I'm sorry it was Sua's Idea." He said pointing at the blond girl standing there. Your blood was boiling so fucking much that you didn't even care asking who this bitch even was let alone what she was doing with your boyfriend.

"A prank? You think this is funny?" Jungkook finally grasped the seriousness of the situation when he saw the mortified look on your face, realizing the impact of the prank. Your makeup was ruined from all the crying, and you looked exhausted.

"Baby, calm down it was just a joke." His hands came forward but you slapped it away.

"Do not Fucking touch me." You glared at him. "Do you seriously think that was funny? I almost had a heart attack, Jungkook. Do you know how fucking scared I was?" Jungkook didn't like when your voice did that. He could handle you yelling, screaming, and even calling him names, but seeing you speak with that dead serious look on your face was something he couldn't bear. It made him feel like he wanted to disappear. Jungkook wanted to jump off a cliff.

"You know what? I can't believe I even thought about giving you another chance. We are seriously done this time." You didn't even look back as you walked away as Jungkook struggled to get that IV out of his hand and run after you.

"Baby, stop I'm sorry. It was Sua's Idea, I swear."

The thunderstorm had finally hit your city with full blast. It was raining cats and dogs. In the midst of it all, everyone ran to sought shelter. However, that didn't stop you from sprinting out of the hospital. The storm didn't concern you; what mattered most was that you couldn't even bare the thought of being near Jeon Jungkook at that moment.

As you dwelled on everything that had happened, your anger intensified. You felt a surge of anger directed at Jungkook, the thunderstorm, and that stupid blond woman who played the prank. But, the strongest force of anger was aimed at yourself, for even thinking that he can take anything seriously. Why did you even bother believing he could change? He was and will always be a man-child.

"Babe, it's really dangerous outside."

"THEN STOP FOLLOWING ME."

"I'm not leaving you alone," he insisted, stepping out into the heavy rain to follow you. As you walked, you had no clear destination or plan in mind. All you knew was that you were so angry with Jeon Jungkook that you couldn't bear to look at his face.

After just a few minutes of walking in the worst thunderstorm you've experienced in years, you came to the realization that this was a reckless idea. Your emotions had driven you to act impulsively, and now you saw the potential danger not only for yourself but for the idiot following you as well. While you knew Jungkook seemed to have little to no regard for his own life and safety, you cared about him.

Recognizing the need to be level-headed and responsible, you decided to find shelter, a place where both of you could wait out the thunderstorm safely. You understood that even in moments of anger, you needed to prioritize the safety of both of you. You began searching for a suitable place where you could find refuge from the harsh weather.

Ignoring the constant pleas from the man behind to listen to him, you led him to a nearby subway station. The station provided shelter from the heavy rain and the strong winds that accompanied the thunderstorm. Inside, the noise of the rain was muffled, creating a more peaceful atmosphere.

"Babe, I'm so sorry, please talk to me," seeing your silence he continued "I messed up, and I'm really sorry. I should have never gone along with that prank."

"Yes you shouldn't have." you snapped making him jump a little. Taking a deep breath to calm your anger and clear your thoughts, you finally addressed the question that had been gnawing at you. "Who was that woman anyway?"

"Just some girl, she was in the bed beside mine and we got to talking but I swear to god, I did not flirt with her once. When I told her about you she came up with the prank and I should not have gone along with it. I'm sorry."

"I just feel that you can't take anything seriously. It's like everything is a joke to you. How do I know that you'll take me seriously? That you'll take this relationship seriously?"

"No... I know I've been a little childish," watching you raise an eyebrow he corrected himself "A lot childish. But I swear, babe. This is the most serious thing in my life. I've made many mistakes in the past but I swear I'll start redeeming everything. I'll prove how serious I am about us. You are everything for me, baby. Everything. You're it for me. I want to spend my whole life with you, __." The way he said your name sent shivers down your body. The way he looked at your eyes eased your mind a little. "I want to have a future with you. I want to marry you, I want to have a home with you, I want to grow old with you, that's how serious I am. I love you more than anything in this entire world and I'll prove it to you." You only realised that you were crying when he wiped a year from your eyes.

"You mean it?"

"Every word."

"Fine then. Let's go." You held out your and he quickly grabbed it. When you dragged him out of the subway station you realised that the storm had stopped. The universe was on your side for once.

Jungkook did not utter another word the whole way that you led him to your house. The silence was thick when you closed the door behind you. He still didn't know what it meant for you both, your silence did not give him any answer and he was scared to ask.

"I swear to god, Jeon Jungkook" You finally began after the painful silence and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. "If I see you entertaining another women ever again, I'm walking out of your life. And this time it would be for good. I will not come back no matter how much you beg me to." It took him a couple seconds to take in your words.

"Does that mean-"

"Yes. I'm giving you another chance. But you mess it up and I'm dumping your ass." The next thing you know Jungkook is showering your whole face in kisses and he finally let go of the tears. Crying happily as he held you close.

"Thank you, baby. Thank you so much. I will not disappoint you, I promise."

"I hope so too." The both of you stood in the middle of your living room, soaking into each other's warmth.

"Now let me fuck you right." He said, making you yelp as he picked you up all of a sudden and rushed toward your bedroom. Your kisses soon turned heated and desperate. Both of you panting as he started taking off your wet clothes.

You were wet in more ways than one. His kisses traveled down your face along with each piece of garment he removed from you. Lips not sparing a single inch of skin as he spent the whole night showing you how much he loves you.

The next morning your wakeup call was none other than Jungkook's tongue swiping away at your center. You woke up with a gasp when the sun was yet to come out. You glanced down to find the mop of raven hair between your thighs.

"Oh god, koo yes." You moaned out loud when his plump lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking. His hands pushing down on your hips, keeping them from arching up on the bed.

His tongue swiped up from your opening as your juices trickled down to your posterior hole. It was too early for your head to comprehend whatever was happening. Your finger started tugging on his curls when he pulled you close to your orgasm. Agressively lapping at your pussy. The pleasure you felt was tremendous. Too much to handle.

Jungkook ate you out like he had rent to pay and this was his job. His tongue playing with you as you came down from your high screaming his name louder than ever. After pulling two more orgasms from you in the next 15 minutes Jungkook was finally satisfied and he kissed up his way to your lips.

"Jungkook, we had sex like, 7 times last night. It wasn't enough?" You giggled when you felt his hard boner pressing against your ass.

"It's never enough with you. Seven times is nothing, baby," he said as he slowly entered you, pulling out a moan from your lips. "I wanna fuck you seven days a week." He added between his lazy thrusts. "Every hour." He lands a gentle kiss on your lips. "Every minute." Fingers intertwining with your own. "Every second."

********

#jeon jeongkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook seven #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #Boyfriend jungkook #Jeon Jungkook x reader #Stalker jungkook #Bts #BTS x reader #Jungkook bts #Jk x reader #Boyfriend jk #Fuckboy jungkook #seven #seven jungkook

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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 months ago

Text

♡ ｓｗｅｅｔｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ ♡

♡ Pairing: tattoo artist!ex boyfriend!chan x chubby!fem!tattoo artist!reader, best friend!stray kids

♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluff

♡ Summary: After a year abroad spent perfecting your craft, you decide to return to the shop that you started at to reconnect with the people you love but how will your friends react to your sudden return? And how will your ex feel when he finds out your back in town attempting to reclaim your place in his shop and maybe even his heart?

♡ Word Count: 5.8k-ish

♡ Warnings: chan's really down bad for you and the littlest bit posessive, strong language, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, male masturbation, creampie, oral sex (m&f receiving), overstimulation, a lil nipple play, orgasm control if you squint, pet names (beautiful, pretty, baby), a lil hair pulling, and that's about it.

♡ A/N: So somehow I've written myself into a series of sorts all taking place in one tattoo shop. Seungmin's here if you'd like to read it. I'll for sure be doing one for all of the boys because why not? This one's a lot more angsty than the other one but I had a nice time writing something different so, as always, I hope you enjoy it, babes.

You stand with your back to the night, casting your starry eyed gaze upon the soft white glow of the neon sign that hangs overhead. It reads Social Path Tattoos & Piercings. This place isn’t new to you, even if the nerves rattling through your system might imply otherwise.

You’re more than familiar with it. You used to spend every waking moment in this place. Even slept here a couple times when you were a bit too tipsy to drive. And coming back to it after a year overseas is surreal. You dreamed of this a thousand times before finally biting the bullet and hopping on the next plane back here. Back home.

You made it. Through the chaos of the airport, racing through crowds to make it to the Uber you may have called a little too soon. Through an hour of bumper to bumper traffic, listening to your driver give you dating advice you definitely didn’t ask for. Through a hell of a check in process at the hotel and lugging half your life up to the 8th floor of the lavish building.

You survived all of that to make it to this moment and you can’t even bring yourself to step inside. What if you aren’t welcome? What if the men you once called “family” consider you nothing more than a stranger now? It’s only been a year but so much has happened. There were so many tears the day you left, so much sadness—so much anger. Maybe you should’ve stayed away.

“Next time you have to get one. I’m telling you, it didn’t hurt at all” a tall girl with a septum piercing tells her friend as they exit the shop.

The shorter girl by her side stares at the fresh tattoo on her friend’s arm with equal amounts admiration and fear. “Liar. It’s needles stabbing through your skin. There’s no way that doesn’t hurt.”

Noticing the tattoos peeking out of your strappy crop top, the taller girl turns to you for some back up. “Tell her it doesn’t hurt,” she pouts.

In all your years as a tattoo artist you’ve never once lied to a client but you aren’t on the clock right now and can’t bring yourself to kill whatever glimmer of hope this girl might have of winning her friend over.

“It doesn’t hurt” you lie to her friend, knowing damn well that, while it isn’t torture, it’s far from painless. “It might sting a little but you’re tough. I can tell. You’ve got it.”

“Thank you” the tall girl smiles, holding the door open for you. “Headed in?”

“Uh…” you hesitate, chewing at your inner lip. There’s so much weight to that question. A weight she can’t possibly fathom. Swallowing your pride, you give her a smile and a nod, slipping into the shop.

“Have a good night!” the girls say kindly, going about their night and abandoning you in the doorway.

Breathing in deep, you take a few more steps before stopping to take in the scene around you. The shop is as alive as it's ever been, the lobby buzzing with customers busy picking out jewelry or waiting their turn to be seen.

The front desk is still straight ahead, marked by a small statue of an orange cat named Cheese. It’d been Minho’s idea to get it when you all went on a drunken flea market adventure and none of you were sober enough to shoot him down. The walls are still adorned with elegant, hand painted art courtesy of Hyunjin, the best photo realistic artist in the shop. The city even.

The checkered floors are the same, an expertly polished black and white patchwork to match the charcoal color of the walls. Even the couch you bought in from your apartment is still positioned in the corner where a bunch of college kids are currently lounging. A lot has happened on that couch. A lot more than they know. God you hope the boys have cleaned it.

Everything is just as you remember it but the energy’s something new entirely. It’s the contradiction of finding familiarity on an alien planet.

“You need something, babe?” the bubbly girl at the counter asks, waving you over. This is new. They used to force you to work the front desk on weekends, the guys alternating weekdays based on whoever lost at rock, paper, scissors. But now there’s a new face. She seems sweet though so you make your way over to her. At least one person’s happy to see you.

“Yes but no but yes? I guess” you ramble, indecision painted all over your face. Observing your appearance she doesn’t take you as the kind of girl to be hesitant about what she came to a place like this for but she comforts you nonetheless.

“It’s okay” she says, reaching out a sympathetic hand to touch yours, “Everyone gets nervous sometimes. I mean, I work here and even I almost freaked when I got my bellybutton pierced but it’s okay. You know what you wanna get done?”

“Actually, I’m not here to get anything done. I used to work here a long time ago and I just thought I’d drop by and see…”

“You’re fucking joking” a voice from your past interrupts. Before you even turn to look, you know exactly who that voice belongs to. Seungmin.

“It can’t be. I’m hallucinating” he gasps, clutching his chest. “A ghost? In our shop?”

You roll your eyes at the dramatics. You’ve missed them. “A ghost? Am I dead now? Is that what you consider me?” you sniffle, pretending to cry.

“Oh, my god. Stop it. Come here” he says, smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen. He throws his arms around you, squeezing you into the tightest hug. In an instant it melts away your worries of not being welcome here. This is the warmest you’ve ever seen Seungmin greet someone and you feel special for being the recipient.

“Squeeze me any tighter and I will be a ghost” you tease, pulling back the slightest bit to get some air. As you do you notice something new on his face. “When did this happen?” You marvel at the shiny silver jewelry decorating his eyebrow.

“You hate it don’t you?”

“Ssh, I don’t hate it. I like it. It’s cute.”

Seungmin blushes, rubbing his cheeks in a failed attempt to hide it. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the girl at the counter staring daggers through Seungmin’s soul. It’s easy to see that there’s something going on here and she doesn’t like him blushing over other girls.

“Ooh, someone’s got a girlfriend” you sing and the counter girl giggles. You can’t help but adore how sweet it is when Seungmin lights up at the sound of her laughter. But you can’t deny that it drags up bittersweet memories of when that was you and...

“Follow me. Everyone’s here tonight. I know they’ll be happy to see you” Seungmin says, ready to escape the lobby before his cheeks overheat from all the blushing. It’ll kill his reputation if the guys find out. He leads the way to the back, as if you need the guidance. You remember exactly where you’re going.

“So…” he sighs, feeling the weight of your return for the first time, “How was Japan?”

“Oh, it was wonderful. It’s beautiful over there and I learned so much from my apprenticeship. I was super nervous at first, you know? But everyone at the shop was…” You stop yourself short, fearful that your fond memories of your time there might come off as bragging. You may have had fun in Osaka but it still paled in comparison to the place you come from.

Seungmin picks up on it, glancing back at you to give you a comforting smile, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m happy…we’re happy that you did what you needed to do. It’s nice to have you back though. You are back, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. That depends on what he says. You know how he was when I left.”

Seungmin says nothing, only nods. He knows oh too well how his best friend was when you left. And those months after spent stewing in a bitterness that only thinly masked the pain of losing you. He watched it play out until the sting had faded but only enough to pretend that things were okay when they weren’t.

“Yongbok, what’d you do with my kit?” Changbin shouts across the room, tearing his station apart in search of his prized possession.

A few stations away a busy Felix rises from his chair, directing his client towards one of the full body mirrors in the corner. “Why are you yelling at me? I don’t have your kit!”

“I’m not talking to you! I’m talking to him!” Changbin points a finger at a shocked I.N who’s been innocently prepping for the next person in line.

“You called my name!” Felix snaps and it dawns on Changbin that he’s been calling the wrong person.

Changbin fights himself not to laugh at his own mistake. He puts his head down, discovering his kit tucked away under his table. “Oh, I did, didn’t I?”

I.N querks an eyebrow at him, arms folded across his chest, “Why do you always do that? You can never call me the right name.”

“Because he’s old” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath, still loud enough for the others to hear. Changbin picks up a towel to throw at him but hesitates when he notices Hyunjin’s in the middle of a tattoo.

“It’s okay, old man,” Han teases, patting his friend on the back. Hyunjin might be busy but Han on the other hand is free enough to invade his personal space so it’s a slap on the back of the head for him.

“Can you guys be adults for a second? We have a guest” Seungmin announces but you hardly mind. This was what you missed while you were gone. No matter how kind the artists at the other shop were to you, they could never replace your boys. Even in their most chaotic moments there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Seungmin’s voice draws all of the attention in the room to you and everyone falls silent. If there’s anything else they needed to say the thoughts have evaporated in your presence. It’s quiet for long enough that you begin to worry. Thoughts creep back in that maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Seungmin may have been happy to see you but the others?

Just as you begin to doubt yourself, the room erupts in cheers and you find yourself at the center of the world’s biggest group hug. Their joy overflows as arms wrap around you, one set swapping out for another and then another swiftly enough to leave you dizzy.

“You’re back! Why didn’t you tell us? Ugh, I missed you” Han says, pinching your cheek in an act of cute aggression he simply cannot control.

Felix hugs you so that his cheek is flush against yours, “You’re staying, right? You have to stay.”

This is nothing that you expected it to be. You’re flooded with enough joy to make a girl cry and you can already feel the tears welling up, you’re right on the verge of it. A year of wondering if you’d made a mistake. A year of worrying that the people you loved hated you for your decision. All of those doubts are shedded in the arms of these seven men.

“What’s all this noise?” Chan groans, his eyes barely open as he steps out of his office, “I was trying to sleep for once.”

“Sleep? Shouldn’t you be working?” I.N says, never one to miss an opportunity to be a smartass.

Chan lets out a yawn, stretching those muscular arms you very vividly recall drooling over and on. “You’ll pay for that, kid. But seriously, what are you guys doing out here?”

The guys step away, gesturing towards you and his arms drop to his sides. Suddenly he’s reminiscent of a balloon at the end of a party, melancholy and deflated. You watch the light in his eyes die in real time and it makes you sick to your stomach to be looked at this way. It wasn’t always like this. In the old days he’d have you in his arms right now, showering you in kisses. But these aren’t the old days, no matter how badly you wish it were.

He starts in your direction, one slow, agonizing step of his black boots after another. He stops a few feet away from you as if some invisible barrier is keeping him at bay. His expression is hard as stone as he studies you like you’re a creature he’s never seen before.

“Hi” you manage in spite of the sudden lack of moisture in your mouth. You get the sense that you’re on trial for some horrible crime and Chan, the judge that he is, has no intention of offering you leniency.

“It’s really nice to see you. You look…good.” There’s such a softness in the way that you are with him. The wisp of a smile on your lips, the gentleness in your posture. You’re soft as a marshmallow for this man and the fire of his anger’s enough to burn you to a crisp.

“Chan, don’t be…” Changbin tries to reach his best friend but Chan snatches away, sparing you one last glance before disappearing into his office.

The door slams hard enough that the hinges creak and the wood seems to splinter. The others? They don’t hate you. In fact, they adore you with all of their hearts. But him? You’re positive he does and now you want to cry again but for a different reason altogether.

Han pats you on the back, bringing you close to him, “I’m about to work on my sketch for my next client. Will you help me?”

“I don’t know, Jisung. It might be better if I go.”

“What? No! You just got here!” Hyunjin pouts, his bottom lip quivering. “You’re really gonna walk out and leave some poor soul at the hands of his drawing skills?”

Hyunjin’s attempt at making you laugh works like a charm and a giggle escapes you.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” he asks, poking his lip out even more.

“Yes, that means I’ll stay.”

“Yay!” Han cheers, grabbing onto your hand and dragging you over to his station.

He hops right into it, spilling all of the details about the tattoo and asking your opinion on it. At first you struggle to focus on helping him. As much as you want to, you can’t shake the mental picture of how Chan looked at you. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t need to. He said everything he felt without so much as parting his lips.

Periodically you find your gaze drifting over to his office door, the pit of your stomach twisted with the anxiety over his next appearance. But the door never opens, not even a crack, and before you know it you’re fully engrossed in helping Han work on his sketch. Your styles are different but he admires you as an artist and soaks in every drop of your input like a sponge.

As the night rolls on you find yourself at one station after another, helping the guys with what you can. You slip right back into their group dynamic with ease. It’s as if your spot was always here waiting for you to hop right back in. It’s like you never left. The minutes melt into hours and you find yourself lingering behind with them far beyond closing time.

“We’re all going out for drinks. You’re coming right?” Felix asks as you group filters out of the shop, filling up the space on the sidewalk.

“Yes, she’s coming. She doesn’t have a choice!” I.N answers before you have a chance to. The boys have already begun moving towards their destination and he drapes an arm around your shoulder to make sure you keep up.

“I’m coming” you laugh, tapping him on the back of the hand, “I do need to run back to my hotel and change first though.”

Changbin looks you up and down, finding not a single thing wrong with your current fit. “Why? You look beautiful.”

As flattered as you are, there’s no way you’re going out on the town in a crop top and a pair of sweatpants. You might not be planning on switching into a ballgown but a change of wardrobe is definitely in order.

You bat your eyelashes, grateful for the compliment, “Sweet but no. I still need to change. Just text me where you’re going.” Reaching into your pocket for your phone, you realize you must’ve left it behind. “Shit, I left my phone.”

They all pause, prepared to turn back and help you find it. “We’ll just go back and grab it” Han insists but you shut him down, not wanting to delay their plans.

“It’s okay, really. I’ll just grab my phone and I’ll meet you there in a few.”

I.N opens his mouth to protest but you throw a hand over it before he can speak. “I’m not a baby, you guys. I got it. I’ll be quick, I swear.”

Shared glances between the seven of them play out a silent conversation that you aren’t in on. They want to look after you, especially after you being so far away for so long, but you’re stubborn and they know you won’t give in no matter what they say.

“Fine” Seungmin relents, “If you aren’t there in an hour we’re coming to get you!”

“Yeah and we’ll raid your hotel room, eat up all your snacks…” Han throws in for extra impact.

“I’ll be there. I swear! One hour!” you promise, skipping back towards the shop.

“An hour!” Hyunjin shouts after you, waiting until you’re safely back inside to continue on.

Inside the shop the lights are turned down, not completely off but dimly lit enough that you almost trip on your way to the back. You frantically search every station—in things, under them—but your phone’s nowhere to be found.

“Fuck, where is it?” you shout in frustration.

Standing in the middle of the floor, you take a deep breath and contemplate where it could be. You were at Han’s station first and then you went to sit with Felix for a bit but Changbin called you to the front for something. That’s it. Maybe it’s there.

You turn to jog back up front when a sound from behind you stops you in your tracks. It’s the sound you’ve been dreading all night. The slow creaking of the door to Chan’s office. Your heart almost stops dead in your chest. You’re frozen, stuck right where you are. You can’t even bring yourself to turn around when you feel the weight of something on your shoulder.

“Looking for this?” he asks, tapping you on the shoulder with your phone.

Hesitantly, you take it, turning to find yourself face to face with the man you used to call yours. Chan seems less angry now but his nose is red and his eyes are puffy. You can tell from the gloss dancing on the surface of them that he’s been crying.

“Thanks. Sorry for leaving it behind, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you here?” He asks the question so bluntly that you’re stunned, unsure how to respond.

“I don’t understand—”

“Why’d you come back? I thought you were confident in your decision. I thought that was what you needed. But now you’re standing in front of me so why?”

“Well, I…” you sigh, giving yourself a moment to process your own feelings, “I missed it. The shop and the guys and you.”

Chan’s jaw tightens, your profession placing him right back on edge. “You miss me?” he scoffs, “That’s not the truth. Try again.”

“But it is.”

“No it isn’t.”

“It is.”

“It isn’t!” he finally snaps, raising his voice at you in a way he never has before. “If you missed me then you would’ve called. You would’ve texted me. Do you know what that felt like for me? I haven’t heard your voice in a year.”

“Because you told me you didn’t wanna hear it!” you shout back, the tears you’ve been suppressing all night pouring from your eyes. It hurts to cry this hard. The tightness in your chest is unbearable. You’ve never cried this hard in front of someone before, not even him, but there’s no holding it back. “I blew up your phone all day every day for weeks begging you to talk to me. I might’ve left here but I didn’t leave you. You left me. You broke my heart and I’ve cried for you every night since. So hate me all you want but I won’t torture myself for you anymore.”

Four hours. That’s how long he spent pacing in that office spiraling down an emotional hole. He thought he knew what he’d say to you if he had the chance. All of those words left unsaid would come tumbling out. Those feelings of abandonment. That pain. He’d have the words to put to them that’d make you understand what you did to him.

Watching the tears stream down your face, none of those words matter now. He’d worked you up in his mind to be a villain, totally opposite to the girl he fell in love with. Blinded by his own bitterness he couldn’t see that you were still her. You are still her. And now he can’t ignore it.

Tucking an arm around your waist he pulls you in, your face pressed into his chest. His fingers find your hair, stroking the soft strands. It feels like it’s been an eternity since he’s touched you. His body’s flush with the sort of warmth flowers must feel on a sunny day.

Chan leans in, his plush lips skimming your ear, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just had so much anger when you left and I didn’t know how to deal with it but I don’t hate you. I’m so sorry.”

The tremors of his voice give you goosebumps. He sounds as broken as you do and just as lost. You shake your head, pulling back from him. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come” you say, wiping the tears away. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll stay away this time. I promise.”

You walk off, your arms wet with tears that won’t stop falling. Your chest’s thumping and the shop seems darker than it was when you came in. Footsteps follow behind you lightly enough for you to question if it’s all in your head. If there’s something you’ve left behind then let it stay that way. You won’t turn back. Not this time.

It’s a silly thing to do but you’re doing it.

Draped across your bed in a towel, you sip from a bottle of red wine and cycle through a heartbreak playlist that gives your lonely heart the company it desperately needs. The tears stopped a half hour ago, the last of them being shed in the shower. Your eyelids feel raw from all of the salty waterworks and your body’s exhausted.

A few feet away your phone sits on a table, lit up with text messages from the guys. After hearing what happened a few of them insisted on coming to get you but you can’t crawl your way towards the closet for the life of you. If not for their persistence you’d be content to rot in your hotel room for the rest of the night, drowning your sorrows in this bottle of overpriced wine.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Nobody’s home” you groan, face down in the blanket. There’s a pause. Some shuffling on the other side of the door. Maybe it worked?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Pushing yourself up from the bed, you toss the bottle aside and drag yourself over to the door. “Can’t a girl rot in peace?” you pout, swinging the door open.

“If this is what you look like when you rot then rot all you want” Chan says, flashing you a smile so genuine you’re positive you must be dreaming.

You stick your head out into the hallway, looking around for the other guys but there’s no one else in sight. “Chan, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Honestly? I’m afraid you’re gonna leave again before I can beg you not to.”

With not a drop more of explanation he pushes his way into the room, kissing you like his life depends on it. His tongue glides over yours, savoring the taste of you mixed with the lingering sweetness of the wine. The kiss is so consuming you can barely get a breath in but air is vastly overrated when a kiss is laced with this much passion. There’s a year of longing inside of him and he pours it into you boundlessly.

Tucking his hands behind your legs, he lifts you up, fingers delighting in the softness of your thighs. He missed this. The tenderness of your kiss. The plushness of your figure. The light, fruity scent of your perfume filling his lungs as he plants open mouthed kisses down your neck, suckling at your smooth skin.

His lips never break from you as he lays you across the bed, tearing your towel away like it’s nothing. His palms massage the fullness of your figure, riding every curve to cup one of your breasts. Your body tenses in response to his touch, moisture pooling between your thighs.

Chan drags his tongue across your cleavage, his stiffening bulge pressed right against your core. “Tell me you’ll stay this time” he begs, lovesick eyes flicking up to you, “Don’t leave me again.”

Brushing his hair out of his face, your fingers skate along that immaculate bone structure of his, bringing him up for another breathless kiss. His thumb brushes your nipple, making small circles on the tip of the bud, and you shudder.

“I’ll stay” you moan, your thighs growing slick with your arousal.

He pinches the bud, grinding his clothed cock against you harder this time, “Promise me.”

Chan sounds so needy and it only worsens how badly you ache for him. You guide him back up to his feet, slipping to the edge of the bed to kiss his cock through his pants. You press your palm to it, riding the outline of the print while your other hand dips under his shirt to feel his abs contract with every touch. He tugs his shirt up over his head, giving your hands free reign of that beautiful chest.

You smile up at him, pulling down the band of his pants and his boxers at once. His cock springs free, thick, throbbing, and as deliciously veined as you remember. You stick your tongue out, licking up the arousal dripping from the tip. You smile up at him, your tongue retreating to say the words he wants to hear. “I promise.”

You press your lips to the tip, taking it in further this time. You swirl your tongue around it, enjoying the satisfied groans that fill the room the more you take him between your fluffy cheeks. Your mouth is so warm and wet around his cock. It’s like heaven.

You relax your throat, taking him as far back as you can, before pulling back the slightest bit to wrap your fingers around the base. You rock your head back and forth, wrist rotating as you pump his shaft. You can feel every little twitch of his cock, taste the precum dripping on the back of your tongue, and it has you soaking through the blanket beneath you.

Chan reaches down to play with your hair, utterly incapable of taking his eyes off of you. You look too pretty drooling around his cock for him to miss a minute of it. He wants to be like this forever with you. Not only this but everything. He wants to be with you. Near you. Inside of you. Anything you’ll bless him with. He just wants you right here, looking at him with all of the love and admiration you do with his cock throbbing down your throat.

“My beautiful girl” he coos, tilting his hips in to push into you a little more. “All mine, yeah?”

With your mouth stuffed so full of him he hardly expects you to answer. Your hum of agreement vibrating down his length is more than enough to let him know that you agree. You’re his again. You’ve wanted to be for so long and at last you are.

That knowledge is almost as intoxicating as feeling him on your tongue. Chan tangles his fingers in your hair, bringing your head back far enough that the head of his cock only ghosts your glossy lips. He plants a kiss on your forehead, staring so deeply into your eyes that you almost lose yourself.

“Bend over for me, baby” he whispers and you nod your head, swinging around in the cutest way to assume the position.

You crawl onto your knees for him, back arched and ass in the air. “Is this good, Channie?”

If only you could see yourself from this angle. Your body’s beyond perfection and your pussy’s glistening like diamonds. He can’t stop himself from tasting you, a hand palming your ass as his tongue darts into your core.

“So fucking good” he hums, his face buried between your thighs. His tongue dips up, dragging between your folds and teasing your clit. Your body trembles and he grabs your hips, lapping at your clit until his face is soaked in your juices.

“Channie, please, ah. Too much” you whine but your body tells a different story. You’re soaking wet, your walls so needy you’re clenching around air. Your hips arch and swirl, almost riding his face.

Chan’s too drunk on your pussy to listen, his free hand between his legs to stroke his cock as he devours you. His tongue pushes back into your core and your walls flutter around it, leaking like a faucet. His cock throbs in his palm, drenched in a mixture of your saliva and his arousal. He feels so out of it, so completely absorbed in you, that he’s racing towards his high faster than he’s ready for.

Dragging his tongue out, he steadies himself, gripping your hips to bring himself right to your entrance. You wiggle your ass excitedly and he laughs, licking you from his lips. “You want it that badly, baby?”

You look back, serving a pouty face that’d bring even the toughest man to his knees. “I just wanna see how much you’ve really missed me.”

“I’ve missed you so much” he moans, sinking into you with one motion. You both nearly collapse at the dizzying pleasure of it. Your walls cling to his length as he bottoms out, filling you up perfectly. “I was going crazy without you” he confesses, pulling out and slamming into you even harder. Your body jiggles, the softness of your hips borderline sinful.

You cry out, biting your tongue to avoid a noise complaint but the moans still spill out. Those broken, beautiful moans. Every stroke rides your sweet spot, pushing you further towards absolute ruin.

“I’ve needed you so badly” he coos, savoring the wet snapping sound of your body colliding with his. “Just like I need you right now. Fuck, I don’t know how I lived without this pussy.”

Throwing his head back, he settles his knees at the very edge of the bed, bouncing you in his lap. He fucks into you faster, your juices splashing up and decorating his abs. Blindly you reach for a pillow, dragging it over to bury your face in because you know it’s coming. You feel it and so can he. Your legs are shaking, you can barely keep your body straight, and your walls are spasming too wildly to spare his sanity.

You’re almost there, knocking right at the door of you high. But instead of keeping his pace, he slows down, every movement careful and purposeful. He angles himself against your sweet spot, making sure he doesn’t miss it once, and teases you to the point that your body’s almost crying to cum. “You ready to cum for me, hmm? You want it?”

“Mmhmm” you whine, eyes watering, “Let me cum, Channie, please.”

How can he deny the request of such a pretty girl? Picking up speed again, he thrusts into you, and your orgasm rips through you like an electric current. You bite down on the pillow, your brain going fuzzy as you cream all over his cock, moaning his name in broken syllables.

Chan has the glimmer of a thought to pull out but he’s too addicted to the feeling of you clenching to follow through on it. It’s too late anyway, his heart’s already skipping beats, his seed spilling out into the warmth of your core. His movements grow sloppier, both of your bodies getting weaker by the minute, but he doesn’t stop until your knees give out.

You summon the energy to roll onto your back, giving that poor little pillow a break, and Chan collapses on top of you, his head resting on your soft belly. “You know” he pants, massaging your love handles, “This music is really sad.”

You giggle, your awareness of any music playing having faded away the moment his lips found yours. “You’re right, it is kinda sad, but I was sad.”

“Was?” he asks, propping his chin up on your belly, “You’re not sad anymore, right?”

“Hmm, no, I don’t think I am.”

“And you really meant what you said? That wasn’t just sex talk?”

You need a second to think about what it was that you said. You’re sure you said a few things when he was inside of you. All of which you meant, of course. “Oh, that I’ll stay? Yeah, I meant that. As long as that’s what you really want.”

Chan climbs on top of you, strong arms caging you in as he hovers above you. “More than anything.”

He kisses you and you close your eyes, letting yourself fade into him. You don’t regret going off to find yourself, it was something you needed to do, but there’s no doubt in your mind that this is where your heart is. With the shop. With the boys. And, more than anything else, with Chan.

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