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creamflix · 1 day ago

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UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 4/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [added over the course of this series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: series is coming to a close and all i can say time and time again is thank you <3 this has been such a blast to write and reading all your comments and tagged reblogs makes me beyond grateful. i was going to make this chapter longer but i exceeded the tumblr word break count, so the much awaited smut chapter & epilogue will be next :pensive: anyways, please enjoy!! and let me know if you're a fein for more....ifykyk :3

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

the day of your book launch arrived like a storm of excitement and celebration, the entire event carefully and extravagantly crafted by gojo-sonic. true to his word, satoru had given shoko a “no limits” budget, and she’d taken full advantage.

every detail screamed luxury and grandeur, from the sprawling hall draped in velvet and illuminated by chandeliers, to the massive screens flashing animations of your book cover as if it were the latest blockbuster. booths lined the entrance, stocked with merch inspired by mating the dragon king — everything from small trinkets to collector’s editions of the book. readers, critics, and fans alike were buzzing with excitement, filling the air with an electric anticipation.

you took it all in with awe, hardly able to believe the spectacle was for your work. a lump formed in your throat as you realized this was satoru and shoko’s way of supporting you, a grand gesture of friendship and admiration when words alone weren’t enough.

shoko, dressed to the nines, approached you with a smug grin, handing you a glass of wine, graciously sponsored by persephone wines.

“told you we’d go all out, didn’t i?” she chuckled, clinking her glass against yours.

“shoko, i don’t even know what to say. this is… i mean, look at all this,” you said, gesturing around you, a little overwhelmed by it all.

“just say you’ll dedicate the next one to us,” she teased, winking. “this was nothing. i didn’t even blow through the whole budget satoru gave me.”

“don’t worry, i’ll get my credit,” satoru’s familiar voice cut in as he joined you, flashing his trademark grin. “i told shoko: if we’re sponsoring the best writer i know, she deserves the best launch.”

“you two are ridiculous,” you laughed, but your heart was full. “thank you. really.”

“hey, you worked for this,” satoru shrugged, his eyes softening. “we just put a spotlight on the star.”

before you could respond, suguru’s voice came crackling through a tablet satoru was holding. he was miles away but, in true fashion, wouldn’t miss the opportunity to chime in.

along with having persephone wines sponsor the drinks, he’d also sent over an exquisitely tailored gown, just for the night, joking that it was the “least he could do” from afar.

“i may not be there in person,” he quipped through the video call, his voice warm, “but i’ll be damned if i don’t make sure you look like the queen you are tonight. the gown suits you.”

you felt yourself flush at his words, smoothing the luxurious fabric of the gown as you glanced at yourself in one of the mirrors. “you outdid yourself, suguru. thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” he smiled, a soft glint of pride in his eyes. “now go show them why you’re the best.”

the event itself was a whirlwind of praise and conversation, with critics and fans alike coming up to you. several of them took the time to express their admiration for the novel’s heartfelt evolution.

“the relationship between the dragon king and the princess felt so raw, so beautifully authentic in this sequel,” one of them remarked. “you managed to capture this intense romance in a way that’s rare to see in fantasy. it wasn’t just lust, but something deeply emotional, and it resonated.”

another critic leaned in, smiling knowingly. “and the rivalry turned camaraderie between the dragon king and the knight? you’ve managed to make them compelling foils — layered and nuanced. it’s been a long time since i’ve read such rich dynamics.”

you accepted their words graciously, nodding and smiling, but your mind kept drifting back to toji.

all the subtle emotional depth in the book — the raw, consuming, and vulnerable aspects of love — it was impossible to ignore his influence on the way you wrote this time. he’d pulled you into a realm of understanding that went beyond mere words, and you’d poured that revelation into every chapter, every exchange between characters.

shoko caught your gaze and sidled up next to you. “sooo, thinkin’ about someone special?” she teased, raising her brow.

you tried to play it off with a shrug.

“maybe. it’s just… i’m realizing how far i’ve come. a few years ago, i could never have written like this, could never have understood these feelings so deeply. now… i feel like i’ve finally become the writer i always wanted to be.”

she nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “well, you’ve grown. and you’ve let someone in. that changes things. makes them real.”

as you moved through the event, mingling with guests and listening to the feedback, you allowed yourself a rare moment of pride. you’d worked so hard to get here, navigating the ups and downs of an author’s journey. the countless late nights, the rejections, the criticisms — they all seemed worth it now.

this was more than just a book launch; it was a testament to how much you’d evolved, both as a writer and as a person.

when you found a quiet corner to catch your breath, you couldn’t resist pulling out your phone, typing out a quick message to toji.

you [7:36 pm]: i owe a lot of this night to you, you know. couldn’t have written this without your… "help." 😌

a moment later, your phone buzzed with his reply.

toji [7:40 pm]: my pleasure, princess. make sure to give me a private reading of that sequel soon ;)

you laughed softly to yourself, tucking your phone away, feeling a rush of warmth that settled comfortably in your chest.

tonight was a night of celebration, but as you looked out at the gathering of supporters and friends, you knew that the most profound reward was waiting for you at home, ready to be there in ways that went beyond just words on a page.

“daddy, come on! we’re gonna be late!” megumi’s voice rang out through the small house, his small hands balled into impatient fists as he watched his dad struggle with his tie.

“alright, alright, relax, will ya?” toji grumbled, pulling the knot loose for the third time and starting over. his nerves weren’t exactly helping him get ready any faster, and megumi’s impatience wasn’t making things easier.

the babysitter mix-up had thrown a wrench into his plans.

tonight was supposed to be simple — show up, support you at your big launch, and, if he could work up the courage, propose.

that was already hard enough without a certain eight-year-old demanding he speed things up.

he glanced over at his son, who looked like a mini version of himself, decked out in a tiny suit, his hair combed neatly for once. megumi was practically vibrating with excitement.

“you ready for this, buddy?” toji asked, finally getting his tie straight and adjusting his collar.

megumi gave him a big grin, nodding eagerly. “i get to see y/n tonight! and everyone will say i look cool,” he added, puffing out his chest proudly. “do you think she’ll like it?”

toji smiled, his heart doing a weird flip at the thought of you seeing megumi like this. “she’ll love it. you look like a little heartbreaker,” he teased, ruffling his son’s hair before catching himself.

“but hey, don’t tell her that i messed up my tie like five times, alright? let’s keep it between us.”

megumi snickered, looking up at his dad with mischievous eyes. “only if you promise to hurry up! she’ll be there already! she’ll think we forgot her!”

toji let out a chuckle but felt a swell of something deeper. tonight was big — not just for you, but for him, for megumi, for the family he hoped to make official. he’d been so certain when he got the ring, so sure he’d just hand it over with some smooth line.

but now, standing here, he realized how real this was.

he’d spent most of his life with only his son by his side, and suddenly, you had filled in so many empty spaces he hadn’t even known were there.

“you think she’ll say yes?” he muttered to himself, not realizing he’d said it out loud until he saw megumi’s puzzled face.

“say yes to what?” megumi asked, head tilted as he studied his dad. “you didn’t ask her anything yet.”

toji’s heart leapt, but he just shrugged. “oh, just… if she’ll like the flowers, or the dress — uh, the way you’re dressed, i mean.” he rubbed the back of his neck, knowing full well his son wasn’t buying it.

“she’s gonna say yes to everything, daddy,” megumi said confidently, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “everyone loves her. i love her!”

toji’s chest tightened. he didn’t need to ask megumi if he’d be okay with you becoming a permanent part of their family; the kid practically glowed every time you walked into the room.

“alright, alright. let’s get outta here before she thinks we’re ditching her big night,” he said, scooping up his keys and nudging megumi toward the door.

as they drove to the venue, toji’s mind raced.

he thought about all the times you’d laughed with him, stayed late to watch silly movies with megumi, made dinners feel like more than just a chore.

you weren’t just good for him; you’d made him want more, to be better. and for megumi, you were the safe place he hadn’t even known he’d been missing.

“daddy, are you gonna kiss her tonight?” megumi piped up suddenly, pulling toji from his thoughts.

toji nearly choked. “uh, maybe, kid. depends on how things go.”

“good,” megumi replied, nodding solemnly. “you should. she likes you. she told me once.”

toji chuckled, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “yeah? and what’d she say?”

“she said you’re stubborn and don’t listen, but that you’re good at cooking,” megumi recited, looking pleased with himself. “and that she thinks you’re cute.”

toji’s heart soared. the kid had no idea what tonight meant, not really. but he could feel his own nerves steady, knowing he wasn’t alone in wanting this.

it wasn’t just him and megumi anymore — it was the three of them, and he wanted that, needed that, more than he’d let himself admit.

pulling up to the venue, he took a deep breath, looking over at megumi with a grin. “alright, bud. let’s go make her night unforgettable.”

you were mid-sentence with one of the editors when you heard it — your name, shouted in the unmistakable pitch of a child. whipping around, you barely had a moment to react before megumi, clutching a massive bouquet that nearly swallowed him whole, came barreling toward you.

“megs!” you gasped, and without thinking twice, you scooped him up into your arms, letting out a laugh that was half-surprise, half-joy. the flowers brushed against your face, petals tickling your nose as you held him tight, savoring the moment.

“oh my gosh, you’re here! and look at these!” you pulled back just enough to look at the bouquet, then at megumi, who was grinning up at you with all the pride in the world. “did you pick these out yourself, mister?”

“yep!” he beamed, holding the bouquet up higher, like he wanted to make sure you got a good look. “daddy said we could get the biggest one they had because tonight’s really special.”

before you could respond, toji appeared beside you, keeping his arm low and offering a subtle, one-armed hug — a gentle squeeze at your waist, just enough for you to feel him there. the touch, as small as it was, sent a warmth through you that the room full of people couldn’t rival.

“thought we’d surprise you,” toji murmured, his voice just for you as he pulled back a bit, casting a wary glance around. you knew he was trying to keep a low profile, aware of the eyes everywhere.

not many people knew about his personal life — let alone that he had a son — and you understood, appreciating the lengths he’d gone to just to bring megumi here tonight.

“you both did a perfect job,” you said, looking from toji to megumi with a soft smile. “you have no idea how happy i am right now.”

megumi’s eyes sparkled, as if he knew exactly how much his presence meant. “i told daddy we couldn’t miss it! i mean, it’s your biggest book ever, right?” he asked, bouncing a little in your arms, oblivious to the attention his enthusiasm was drawing.

“it is,” you nodded, smoothing a hand through his hair, “and you made it so much better just by being here.”

“oh!” megumi perked up, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads. “did you know i brought my special iron-man pen so i can sign books too?”

you laughed, nodding along. “well, with a pen like that, you’ll be the best co-author here.” you glanced up at toji, sharing a knowing look.

“thank you for bringing him. i know it… wasn’t easy.”

toji shrugged, his expression softening just for a moment. “hey, it’s your night. thought he might make it even better.” his words were casual, but the sincerity in his eyes was undeniable.

it was like he wanted to tell you so much more, but knew it wasn’t the time or place.

a nearby critic approached, clearing his throat as he smiled at you. “i hope we aren’t interrupting a family moment,” he said kindly, glancing at megumi with a smile. “but i’d like to congratulate you on your incredible work — it’s rare to see such depth in a romance series, truly.”

you flushed, offering him a grateful smile as you shifted megumi in your arms. “thank you so much. that means the world to me,” you replied, feeling megumi wiggle with excitement.

toji, standing just behind you, kept his hand resting gently at your back, his presence grounding you as you navigated the crowd. despite his careful distance, you could feel his pride, his quiet support, and it felt like a shield, like a promise he was making, even in silence.

you knew how much it took for him to be here, to show this side of himself to the world, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

as you shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, and posed for photos, toji stayed close, always within reach. each time you turned to look at him, he was there with a soft, steady gaze, giving you that silent encouragement he seemed to master so well. with every glance, every small exchange, you could see the admiration in his eyes, like he was seeing you all over again and falling deeper.

megumi, oblivious to the significance of the moment, tugged at your sleeve. “are we gonna eat soon? daddy said there’s cake.”

you smiled, leaning close to him. “oh, definitely. i hear it’s the best cake in the whole city.”

“see, told you we’d get cake,” toji muttered under his breath, ruffling megumi’s hair. you couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the way his gaze softened as he looked at you both. there was so much affection there — unspoken, but understood.

for a brief second, you imagined this was your life every day. not just events and fleeting moments, but nights together, little family moments like this.

the thought made your heart swell, and for a second, you allowed yourself to imagine the possibility of it becoming real, wondering if maybe, just maybe, toji wanted it as much as you did.

toji leaned back against the wall, his eyes following the two of you as you knelt down to point out the different treats on the table for megumi, who was practically bouncing with excitement.

the critic’s words kept circling in his mind, replaying over and over, making his chest feel tight: family. family moment.

the idea of it hung in the air, clinging to him in a way he couldn’t shake off. watching you with megumi like this, it was a glimpse of something he’d never dared to imagine, and yet here it was, right in front of him.

his fingers brushed the small box in his pocket, feeling the outline of the ring he’d agonized over for weeks. it had seemed crazy when he’d first bought it — almost reckless.

me, proposing? he’d thought, laughing at himself. but now, with you and megumi just a few feet away, it didn’t feel crazy.

it felt like the most real, most obvious thing in the world.

"daddy! look!" megumi called out, waving a small pastry in the air. “she said i can try whatever i want! even the tiny cake things!”

“the petit fours,” you corrected with a smile, ruffling his hair. “you have great taste, kiddo.”

toji chuckled, crossing his arms as he walked over to you both. “better take it easy, megumi. don’t want you passing out before the cake,” he teased, slipping an arm around your waist without even thinking about it. the gesture was small, casual, but it felt right.

“i’m not gonna pass out! i can eat everything,” megumi declared with a determined nod, his cheeks already stuffed with a piece of macaron.

you both laughed, and toji glanced at you, his smile lingering just a little longer than usual. his heart thudded with a strange, warm ache.

he could see it now — the life he’d always convinced himself he didn’t need, didn’t deserve. he could see it so clearly: late nights, family meals, hearing megumi’s laughter echo through your home.

and you… you beside him, every step of the way.

his hand found yours and squeezed it, his voice dropping low, soft, “you’re really something, you know that?”

you tilted your head up at him, a bit of surprise mixed with warmth in your eyes. “what’s got you so sentimental all of a sudden?” you teased, nudging him playfully.

he chuckled, shaking his head. “maybe just… realizing how lucky i am.”

before you could respond, a familiar voice rang out, entirely too loud for the occasion.

“well, well, well, look who finally made it!” satoru announced, strutting over with shoko at his side, her expression mildly amused. “thought you’d skip your own lady’s event, huh, toji?”

toji rolled his eyes but gave satoru a smirk. “yeah, figured i’d let you take all the credit.”

satoru scoffed, nudging toji’s arm. “as if. this isn’t my night, it’s hers.”

he turned to you with a broad grin. “you’re killing it tonight, seriously. it’s about time everyone realized how much of a genius you are.”

“here, here,” shoko added, raising an invisible glass in toast, her eyes gleaming with that usual mix of admiration and mischief. “you deserve all of this, every bit of it.”

you smiled, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. “thank you, both of you. really. none of this would’ve happened without you two backing me up from day one.”

satoru scoffed, waving you off. “please, you would’ve gotten here on your own. we just sped things up a little.”

toji watched as satoru and shoko chatted with you, keeping one hand wrapped around yours. satoru and shoko had no idea, of course, that tonight was the night he planned on asking you to be part of his life permanently.

it was almost funny, seeing them so oblivious, all while toji stood here with a ring in his pocket, ready to turn his life upside down.

“you okay?” shoko asked, raising a brow at him as she noticed his quiet, distant expression. “you look like you’re planning something big. which, if you are, you should probably warn her first.” her voice held a teasing edge, but there was something knowing in her eyes.

he gave a small shrug, trying to play it off.

“just… feeling lucky,” he said again, and he meant it more now than ever.

the moment megumi’s eyes landed on the enormous dragon hanging from the ceiling, his mouth fell open in awe, and he pointed up with such force it was almost as if he was about to fly off the ground.

his little voice pierced through the chatter of the room as he shrieked, “look! look! a real dragon!”

everyone turned their heads in unison, drawn to the oversized, intricate dragon decoration that swirled and curled down from the ceiling, its glittering scales catching the light and its wings spread wide like it was ready to take flight.

“woah, that thing’s massive,” satoru said, clearly impressed, even though his voice had the usual playful edge. “didn’t know you were into dragons, megumi.”

megumi, not even listening to satoru’s question, continued to point excitedly, his eyes wide with the kind of childlike wonder that made his enthusiasm contagious.

“it’s the dragon king!” he announced, as though he were revealing a hidden treasure. “he’s gonna — he’s gonna —”

“he’s gonna swoop down and eat us all up!” toji finished with a grin, playing along as he leaned in to mess with megumi’s hair. “better watch out, kiddo.”

megumi gasped, taking a step back dramatically as if the dragon could really eat him.

“nooooo!” he screamed, his tiny voice making everyone in the vicinity laugh. “i don’t wanna be eaten!”

“you’ll be fine,” you said, leaning down and pulling him into your side for a protective hug. “but if you’re not careful, the dragon might just come and steal your cookies.”

megumi narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, crossing his arms. “that’s what he wants? cookies?!” he asked incredulously, his voice loud enough for the entire room to hear. “i can take him! i’m iron man!”

everyone laughed again, and even toji chuckled under his breath, watching his son’s antics with affection.

“you’d better be quick then, iron man,” toji teased, a hand sliding around your waist. “i think the dragon’s looking at your cookies.”

megumi immediately perked up at that, his eyes darting back to the dragon above them. “no! that’s my cookie! he better stay away!” he shouted, before running off toward the table with treats, waving his arms like he was preparing for battle. “you better not mess with my cookies, dragon!”

“he’s serious about those cookies,” satoru said with a grin, chuckling as he shook his head. “maybe we should let megumi take on the dragon first, then we can all get some cookies in peace.”

toji couldn't stop smiling at the sight of megumi racing toward the table. he hadn't seen the kid this excited in a while. it was as if his joy was a burst of energy that spread throughout the room. the love, the laughter — it all felt like a dream to him.

“what about you?” shoko asked with a teasing smirk, looking at you. “are you joining in the battle too?”

you grinned, your gaze flicking to toji for a brief moment before your eyes softened. “yeah, we’ve got to make sure the cookies are safe, right?”

toji’s heart thudded in his chest. he knew that this — these moments with you and megumi — was what he wanted. it wasn’t just about him or about megumi. it was about you three, together, as a family.

even if no one else knew it yet, it was real in his heart.

“we are the cookie protectors,” you said, straightening up. “and the dragon better stay away from us.”

megumi, now holding a cookie in each hand, jumped up and down. “yeah! take that, dragon!” he shouted, looking back at you for approval. his small face was so determined, so full of confidence, that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“that’s my boy,” toji muttered under his breath, watching the small scene unfold. he didn’t know how it had happened, but somewhere along the way, his heart had found a place with you and megumi — his family.

and no dragon, real or not, could take that from him.

you looked up at him, and for a brief second, the entire world felt like it slowed down. "we’re really doing this, huh?" you said softly, and toji’s lips curved into a warm, affectionate smile.

“yeah,” he replied, his voice steady. “we really are.”

as the last guests trickled out, toji gave a subtle nod to gojo and shoko, who shared a knowing look. gojo’s grin stretched ear to ear, and he waggled his eyebrows at toji.

“ohhhh, i see what’s going on,” he drawled dramatically, casting a wink your way. “don’t worry, big guy. we’ll keep the little one entertained.”

“so you two can, you know… have a moment,” shoko added, giving you both a half-smile as she nudged megumi’s shoulder. “come on, kid, let’s go see if there’s any cake left in the back.”

megumi’s eyes lit up. “cake? there’s more cake?”

“as much as you want,” gojo said, patting his head. he leaned down and stage-whispered, “besides, your dad probably needs all the help he can get to keep up with his favorite author.”

toji shot gojo a glare as gojo strutted away, dragging megumi with him. but there was a small, grateful smile tucked under the tough exterior as he turned back to you.

“they’re so extra,” you laughed, shaking your head as toji led you out onto the balcony, where twinkling lights and a clear view of the moon made everything feel softer, more intimate.

“think that’s what friends are for,” toji mumbled, scratching his neck, clearly trying to shake off a bit of nervousness. he looked so out of place in a suit but wore it well, in that rugged, casual way that made you feel like you were with him — not some polished version of him. you gave his arm a gentle squeeze as you both settled onto the bench.

“honestly, i still can’t believe how well tonight went,” you murmured, staring out at the moonlit view. “it feels surreal.”

toji chuckled. “yeah, you handled it like a pro. i don’t know how you keep it together with all those people throwing compliments and criticism at you.”

you laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “oh, like you’re one to talk, mr. mysterious voice actor.”

he rolled his eyes, but there was a small, proud grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “voice actor, huh? kinda takes the mystery out of it.”

“please, i see how they look at you when you talk,” you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder. “if they only knew half the things you say to me, the mystery would be gone in a second.”

toji huffed, his cheeks slightly pink as he wrapped his arm around you. “maybe i like keeping a few secrets,” he said, tone low and soft, like he was letting you in on one right then.

you stayed like that, just nestled against him, and a comfortable silence settled between you. after a moment, you stood and walked to the ledge to snap a picture of the full moon, your phone’s flash catching on something small — a tiny charm dangling from your phone. toji’s eyes drifted to it, and he felt a sudden rush of warmth at the sight: the little origami paper ring he’d made for you months ago, in a moment that felt playful and silly then, but seeing it still there now…

he took a deep breath, fingers brushing over the ring box in his pocket.

it’s now or never, huh?

“hey,” he called softly.

you turned, your face softly illuminated by the moonlight. there was a kind, patient look in your eyes — the look that he swore could stop his heart — and his own heart hammered as he took a step closer.

“so, um…” he cleared his throat, trying not to let his nerves show. “you remember that first night we met? at the bar?”

“oh yeah,” you said with a little smile. “you were the one looking all grumpy in the corner.”

he chuckled. “yeah, i… guess i thought i was too good for everyone there.” he smirked, shaking his head. “then you sat down and completely threw me off. got me talking more in one night than i’d talked all year.”

you laughed, taking his hand and giving it a small squeeze. “you didn’t seem like the talking type.”

“i wasn’t,” he said, softer now, “until you.”

you tilted your head, brows lifting in surprise as he went on.

“i tried not to make a big deal out of it,” he said, a little embarrassed, “but i fell hard that night. i kept telling myself it was nothing, but then… every time i saw you with megumi, every time i watched you do what you love…” his voice grew softer. “hell, every time you’d hum “dancing queen,” i’d get this stupid grin on my face and just think, ‘yeah, this is it.��”

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, even as your heart beat faster. “dancing queen? really?”

“yeah, laugh all you want,” he teased, shaking his head, “but it’s true.”

then, with a steadying breath, he pulled out the ring box and flipped it open, revealing a delicate ring, the exact same shade of blue as the paper ring on your charm.

“so… will you let me make this official? be my wife? let me be there for you and megumi, as more than… you know, whatever we’ve been calling this?”

your eyes filled with tears as you stared at the ring, then up at him. without hesitation, you flung your arms around him, hugging him tight as you whispered, “yes. yes, toji, a thousand times yes.”

he exhaled in relief, wrapping his arms around you as if he was afraid to let go. “about time,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “thought you’d never give in.”

you leaned back, laughing as you swiped at your tears. “oh, shut up, you were the one dragging your feet!”

“i’m just thorough,” he said with a smirk, slipping the ring onto your finger. he glanced down at it, a proud smile on his face. “looks good on you.”

you admired the ring, then met his gaze with a grin. “it’s perfect. but, uh… i hope you’re ready for a lifetime of dancing queen.”

toji groaned playfully, though his eyes sparkled with happiness. “guess i can handle that… as long as i’ve got you.”

as you stood there, feeling the weight of the ring on your finger and the warmth of toji’s arms around you, the realization washed over you like a tidal wave — you, the anonymous smut writer extraordinaire, the queen of dodging wholesome romance in favor of spicy plots, were now officially engaged.

engaged, as in, someone actually wanted to put a ring on it.

and that someone just happened to be toji fushiguro, who, at this very moment, had the audacity to be looking at you with that amused glint in his eye, watching your face morph from shock to excitement to full-on teary bawling.

“oh my god,” you croaked, barely able to contain the laugh-sobs that bubbled up.

“i’m engaged. like, wedding bells and not trolling in the comments sections engaged.”

toji raised a brow, pulling you closer as he chuckled. “i mean, considering half the stuff you write about, that’s a hell of a transition. but hey, you’re handling it… sorta.”

“sorta?” you sniffled, then glared at him through watery eyes. “i’m having a life-altering epiphany, thank you very much.”

he smirked, swiping a thumb under your eye to catch a stray tear. “awwww, poor baby. reality setting in?”

you scoffed, trying to stifle the way your laugh broke into another sob. “look, i just… never thought i’d actually be here, you know? from hidden smut scenes and faceless profiles to… this.”

“hey, hey,” he murmured, squeezing your hand. “if it makes you feel better, i’m here for all of it. the trolls, the, uh… ‘intense fan engagement,�� and whatever’s next. and i gotta say, i think it’s pretty hot my girl’s a smut connoisseur.”

you smacked his arm, laughing through your tears. “you just like that i write things that would make a nun pass out.”

“absolutely,” he grinned. “it’s impressive. educational, even.”

you let out a snort-laugh, wiping your cheeks. “oh my god, toji, please. this is already too much. i’m literally having a moment, and you’re still finding a way to bring up my career in porn literacy.”

he chuckled, pulling you close and leaning his forehead against yours. “is it really a moment if i don’t remind you what a legend you are?”

you blinked up at him, overwhelmed by a mix of hilarity and emotion, the tears slipping down despite yourself. “i… i guess not.”

“see?” he said softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek again. “you’re one of a kind, y’know that? and i’ve loved you since day one — trolls, sarcasm, emotional breakdowns, and all.”

you sniffled, biting back a laugh that still sounded half like a sob. “since day one? you mean since i saw you brooding in a bar and puked on your shoes?”

“yeah, yeah,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “since that night. you took me out of my head, put me right in yours. and now… i don’t think i’d want to be anywhere else.”

that did it; a fresh wave of tears slipped down, and you let out a groan, barely holding back a laugh. “great, now i’m really crying. and it’s all your fault for saying something so sweet.”

toji’s lips curved into a smirk as he gently thumbed away your tears. “i’ll take the blame,” he murmured, then pulled you close again. “so long as i get to see that pretty face of yours every day.”

“ugh,” you muttered, but your voice wobbled, giving you away. “you’re such a jerk. you know that?”

“only for you, babe,” he said, squeezing you. “only for you.”

toji grinned, watching the emotional storm brewing in your eyes. just as you took a shaky breath to speak, he cleared his throat dramatically, adopting a voice dripping with fake sincerity, and intoned, “my love for you burns brighter than the eternal flames of the dragon king’s wrath…”

your jaw dropped, equal parts horror and laughter bubbling up. “oh my god, toji. no. you didn’t just quote one of my lines. that line.”

he smirked, utterly unbothered, shrugging casually. “what can i say? they had those fancy signed copies lying around… thought i’d see what all the fuss was about.”

you were torn between laughing and punching him. “so, you thought you’d quote the cheesiest line in the whole book? i swear, that scene was a joke between me and shoko —”

“hey, don’t knock it,” he said with a smirk, throwing an arm around you. “personally, i think it’s beautiful. poetic, even. you’d make any dragon proud, babe.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “i’m so embarrassed right now.”

“oh, c’mon,” he nudged, pulling your hands away so he could see your face. “if it makes you feel any better, it got me here, didn’t it? my heart’s already caught fire.”

“stop it,” you laughed, finally relenting and pressing your forehead to his chest, a half-hearted punch to his shoulder. “you’re such a jerk.”

he chuckled, wrapping you in his arms. “yeah, but i’m your jerk. and i gotta say, i think we’d make a pretty good team. i mean, after all, the dragon king always finds his queen…”

“i will actually murder you,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the way your laughter softened, clinging to him just a little tighter.

“that’s my girl,” he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of your head, a warm, knowing smile on his face.

the morning after the book launch, toji was on high alert as he sat megumi down at the kitchen table. the little guy was still bleary-eyed, hair a mess, pajamas slightly askew, but when he spotted his dad’s unusually serious expression, he perked up, looking from toji to the unopened box of cereal on the table.

“what’s up, daddy?” he asked, squinting at him suspiciously.

toji cleared his throat. “listen, kiddo… i’ve got some big news.”

megumi’s eyes widened. “big news?” he asked, already intrigued. “like… big like when we found out that the dragon yesterday was a real dragon?”

toji scratched his head, trying not to laugh. “well, maybe not that big. but it’s important. you know how much i love y/n, right?”

megumi nodded with an exaggerated seriousness that only an eight-year-old could muster. “of course! you guys are always looking at each other, and you smile even when she makes fun of you.”

“oh, she makes fun of me?” toji chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, dad. i heard her say you look like a ‘tough marshmallow’ once,” megumi said, and then giggled at the memory.

toji rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips. “well, anyway… i’ve decided to ask her to marry me. and guess what? she said yes.”

megumi’s eyes grew as big as saucers, and he sat straight up in his seat. “wait, like… she’s gonna be my mama?”

toji nodded, grinning. “yeah, just like that. you and me — we’re gonna be a team with her.”

megumi stared at him in stunned silence, and then, all at once, he exploded with excitement.

“YES! that’s so awesome!” he yelled, fist-pumping the air. “we’re gonna be a real family, with, like… dinners, and vacations, and… wait, does that mean i can tell my friends i have a mama now?”

toji chuckled. “you sure can, kid.”

“oh man,” megumi squealed, his hands up in the air as he looked around the kitchen as if needing to celebrate immediately. “this is amazing! we need to have a party or something!”

he practically bounced up, reaching for his favorite cereal with such enthusiasm that his elbow knocked a bottle of milk right off the counter, sending it crashing to the floor. they both froze, looking at the mess.

megumi winced. “uh… oops?”

toji just laughed, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “we’ll clean it up together. ‘cause that’s what families do, right?”

megumi beamed up at him, the pure joy in his little face melting every last bit of toji’s tough exterior. “right! and i’ll do it fast, ‘cause i’m excited. i can’t believe this. i’m so lucky, daddy!”

toji ruffled his hair. “nah, kid. i’m the lucky one. and trust me, it’s about to get even better.”

it's barely dawn when your phone buzzes, dragging you out of a warm, blissful sleep. squinting at the screen, you see toji’s name flashing. a sleepy smile forms on your face, but before you can even say hello, a very familiar, very excited young voice explodes into your ear.

“y/n!!! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!!” megumi practically yells, his voice hitting decibels that feel criminally loud this early in the morning.

you jolt, holding the phone a little farther from your ear. “megumi?” you mumble, still half-asleep and trying to process the level of energy he’s throwing at you. “why are you up so early, buddy? did something happen?”

“something HUGE happened! guess what, guess what, guess what!” he shouts, each “guess what” somehow louder than the last.

blinking against the early light creeping into your room, you stifle a yawn. “hmm… did someone find a real-life dragon in our backyard?” you play along, rubbing your eyes.

“even BETTER!” he declares triumphantly. “you’re gonna be my mama!!”

you pause, biting back a laugh, because of course you already know this. but hearing the excitement in his voice, you can’t help but let yourself get a little carried away, too.

“oh, wow! really? that’s incredible, ‘gumi! i had no idea,” you say, matching his enthusiasm with a gasp.

“i know! isn’t it soo cool?! i told daddy that this means we get to have family dinners and stuff, and now i get to tell my friends that i have a mama,” he babbles, his words running together in his excitement.

toji’s voice, faint in the background, mutters, “megs, let her breathe.”

but megumi, undeterred, barrels on. “and guess what else! i’m gonna help pick out the wedding cake. i already told daddy i want one with dragons on it, so we’ll be like, the coolest family ever.”

you laugh, absolutely charmed by his excitement. “well, i think that’s an amazing idea. a dragon cake sounds perfect.”

“right?! and can we have swords, too? i think it should be like one of those fights, where you and dad have to fight, and whoever wins gets the cake.” he’s practically bouncing off the walls at this point, each suggestion wilder than the last.

“swords and dragons? that might be a tall order, but we can see what we can do,” you reply, stifling another laugh.

toji’s voice cuts in, sounding both amused and exasperated. “alright, kiddo, you’re supposed to let her sleep. remember? that was the deal if i let you call her this early.”

there’s a dramatic pause, and then megumi whispers loudly into the phone, “oops.”

you chuckle. “it’s okay, mumi. i’m really glad you called. now i’m just as excited as you are.”

“good!” he cheers, before pausing. “but, uh… you can still sleep if you want. i can call you again in five minutes if that helps?”

“five minutes, huh?” you glance at the clock, pretending to think it over. “you know what, i’ll take that extra sleep. i’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“okay!” he chirps, clearly pleased with himself for being so “understanding” about your need for sleep.

you hear toji laugh softly in the background, and he takes the phone back. “go back to sleep, sweetheart. i’ll make sure megumi doesn’t actually call you in five.”

“i appreciate it,” you murmur, smiling. “good luck keeping him in one place today.”

“thanks. i’m gonna need it,” toji chuckles. “get some rest. we’ll see you soon, future mrs. fushiguro.”

a warmth blooms in your chest, making it even harder to hang up. “can’t wait. love you both.”

as you finally close your eyes again, megumi’s ecstatic little voice echoes in your mind. it’s the kind of wake-up call you could get used to, even if it means sacrificing a few hours of sleep.

toji grumbled as he held up his phone, squinting against the light from the window. it wasn’t every day he voluntarily subjected himself to a facetime call with those two, but after everything that’d happened last night, he supposed he owed them the news firsthand. as the phone rang, he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable chaos that was about to unfold.

the call finally connected, but there was nothing but… dead silence. neither gojo nor suguru had their cameras on, which was weird because gojo’s face was usually plastered in the frame within seconds, whether he was ready or not.

“uh… you two there, or is my phone broken?” toji asked, furrowing his brow, wondering if it was some kind of network issue.

another moment passed before gojo’s voice finally came through, quiet and almost suspicious.

“so, toji. you call us this early, just for what? a chat?”

“what, i’m not allowed to check in?” toji countered, unable to keep a smirk off his face. “and hey, it’s not that early.”

“toji, it’s barely eight!” gojo’s voice was dramatic, and toji could practically feel suguru rolling his eyes in the background.

“yeah, yeah, well… it’s important,” toji finally muttered. he knew it was going to sound weird to them, especially coming from him, but he had to bite the bullet.

“look, i got engaged last night.”

a beat of absolute silence.

toji even pulled the phone away from his face to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. then, suddenly, he heard a choking noise on the other end, and gojo’s voice came back with a trembling, “what did you just say?”

“yeah. i asked her to marry me. it’s real.” toji’s voice was nonchalant, as if he was just talking about his usual dinner plans, but his grip on the phone tightened. he didn’t know what to expect from them. jokes? a snide comment? but… nothing.

dead silence again.

“alright, what the hell? you guys hear me, or what?” toji demanded, brow knitting in confusion. were they that shocked, or was the signal just terrible?

and then, from the other end, he heard a frantic scramble, some muffled curses, and then… nothing. his screen stayed black.

just as he was starting to think the call had dropped, there was a loud knock on the door of his house, followed by the unmistakable sound of fists pounding against the wood.

“toji! open up!” gojo’s voice was shrill with excitement, and suguru’s calm, collected voice was barely audible under gojo’s babbling. “we’re coming in!”

toji groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, but he couldn’t stop the grin creeping up on him. he opened the door, and immediately gojo shoved past him, eyes wide and… were those tears?

“toji! no. you did not just get engaged.” gojo looked between him and the empty house as if expecting some kind of confirmation. he grabbed toji by the shoulders, eyes glistening, voice a little thick with emotion. “you… you’re serious? i swear, if you’re messing with us —”

“satoru,” suguru interrupted, leaning casually in the doorway, looking far more composed but with a smirk tugging at his lips. “give the man some space.”

“no! he’s been holding out on us this entire time! and now he’s engaged?” gojo sniffled dramatically, then pulled back and looked around, eyes narrowing.

“wait. where’s she? she has to confirm this. i don’t believe it otherwise.”

toji rolled his eyes, half-exasperated, half-amused. “she’s not here, genius. she’s at her place. i didn’t drag her along for this circus.”

“circus?! toji, this is a historic moment!” gojo looked as if he was going to cry all over again.

“you, of all people, settling down with someone — i just — i knew you had it in you! i just thought it would take a lot more time. i mean, do you even know what to do now that you’re —” he waggled his fingers, unable to contain his excitement, “ — engaged?”

toji snorted, feeling a weird warmth settle in his chest. “well, obviously. i got this covered. don’t act like you know everything, gojo.”

suguru chuckled from his spot, crossing his arms and giving toji an approving nod. “i’m honestly impressed. never thought i’d see the day.”

“oh, please.” gojo scoffed, reaching up to dab his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “don’t look at me like that. you’re crying too.”

suguru raised an eyebrow, unaffected. “i’m… not crying, satoru.”

gojo shot him a glare, but then turned back to toji, his face softening. “all joking aside, man, i’m really happy for you. i knew you’d find someone who could handle all… this.” he gestured broadly to toji, grinning. “and that she’d actually make you a better person.”

“yeah, yeah. thanks for the pep talk,” toji muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he scratched the back of his neck. “didn’t think i’d be hearing this from you two clowns.”

“hey,” suguru said with a smirk, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “that’s what friends are for, right? to be there when you make stupid decisions… or, in this case, when you make one of the best decisions of your life.”

toji rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny the swell of gratitude in his chest. he’d known these two idiots for years, and hearing them actually cheer him on — well, it was something.

gojo sniffled again, clearly still emotional, then let out a bark of laughter. “so, tell us, what’s the plan now, mr. engaged man?”

“plan?” toji raised an eyebrow. “uh, i dunno, man. probably marry her?”

“don’t be sarcastic, toji!” gojo waved a hand. “i mean the details. are you doing it here? is there gonna be a fancy wedding? can i give a speech?”

toji pinched the bridge of his nose. “i’m pretty sure giving you a mic is gonna be the worst decision of my life.”

“that’s what you said about proposing,” suguru chimed in with a grin.

“touche,” toji muttered, though his smirk betrayed his amusement.

gojo, however, was unrelenting. “so, can i give a speech? come on, toji. i can make it classy. well, sorta. at least i’ll keep it pg — ish.”

“we’ll see, alright?” toji finally conceded, shaking his head as gojo cheered like he’d just won a prize. “but don’t make me regret it.”

“you won’t!” gojo promised, practically vibrating with excitement. “i swear, this is gonna be epic.”

as they continued to tease and joke, the weight of the whole thing started to settle in for toji.

he was actually… engaged.

and having these two idiots with him, sharing the moment in their ridiculous way, made it feel real.

“seriously though,” suguru said softly, giving him a sincere look. “we’re happy for you, man. she’s good for you. and you’re gonna be an even better man with her by your side.”

toji took a deep breath, nodding. “yeah… i think so too.”

they shared a rare, quiet moment, before gojo predictably ruined it with a loud sniff. “okay, enough of the mushy stuff. let’s celebrate! someone find a cake!”

toji let out a laugh, shaking his head. he’d never admit it, but right then, with gojo’s exaggerated tears and suguru’s approving grin, he realized he had everything he needed — and he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

after the chaotic call with toji and, mostly, megumi, there was no way you were going back to sleep. megumi’s squealing declaration of, “you’re gonna be my mama!” had left you lying there, wide awake, in a sort of dazed disbelief.

and really, who else would you call at an hour like this but shoko?

you dialed her number, tapping your foot against the floor as it rang, and it didn’t take long for her to pick up.

“it’s eight in the morning, this better be good,” she mumbled, her voice groggy but laced with intrigue.

“oh, trust me, it is,” you said, and just like that, all the excitement came rushing back.

“toji proposed last night.”

there was silence on the other end. just as you started to wonder if she’d fallen asleep, she finally responded with a very eloquent, “wait, what?”

“yeah. proposed. last night. officially engaged,” you replied, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. you were still riding that high, and the fact that shoko, who was usually so cool and unflappable, sounded actually stunned was a bonus.

“no way.” you could hear her sitting up, probably rubbing her eyes in disbelief. “toji proposed? the same toji who spent half his life avoiding commitment like it was a death sentence?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “yeeeppp, that’s the one.”

“oh my god,” she muttered, and you could practically see her shaking her head. “i knew you two were close, but… this is major. i never thought i’d live to see the day toji fushiguro actually put a ring on someone.”

“honestly, neither did i,” you admitted, smiling. “but here we are.”

“here we are,” she echoed, sounding just as baffled as you felt.

“man, this is going to throw satoru into a complete meltdown. you know he’s going to act like he’s the one getting married. brace yourself.”

you snickered, knowing she was absolutely right. “oh, i already know. i’m guessing he’ll throw himself a one-man wedding just to feel involved.”

shoko let out a bark of laughter, fully awake now. “and suguru? he’ll pretend he doesn’t care, but deep down, he’s probably lowkey emotional. i mean, it’s toji we’re talking about.”

“oh, i’m sure,” you said, grinning. “they’re probably off somewhere right now, grappling with the news, questioning how this could even happen.”

“please tell me you’re doing something to celebrate?” shoko asked, sounding genuinely excited now.

“well, i haven’t had much time to think about it,” you admitted. “toji’s with megumi at their place, and i’ve been mostly lying here, trying to wrap my head around it. but yeah, we’ll have to plan something.”

“good,” she replied, her tone a mix of fondness and exasperation. “you’re really going through with this, huh?”

“guess so,” you said, letting out a soft sigh. “i mean, the man wore me down with sheer persistence and probably some kind of magic spell.”

“hey, if anyone’s capable of luring you into marriage with his questionable charm, it’s toji,” she quipped. “alright, just promise you’ll let me know when i can start making sarcastic toasts about your love life.”

you laughed, feeling a bit of warmth in your chest. “deal. just, uh… don’t go too hard on him?”

“can’t make any promises,” she said, and you could hear her smile through the phone. “but seriously, congrats. i’m happy for you.”

“thanks, shoko,” you murmured, feeling a little teary-eyed again.

“don’t get all mushy on me now,” she grumbled playfully. “anyway, go get some sleep. you’ll need it to survive gojo’s emotional rollercoaster later.”

“noted. thanks for… you know, being there and everything.”

“anytime,” she replied, voice softer. “and hey, if you need help dealing with him, i’ll bring earplugs and champagne. we’ll get through it together.”

you hung up, a smile lingering on your face as you finally felt yourself relaxing, her warmth and dry wit making everything feel real. there were wild days ahead, but with people like shoko — and, admittedly, even satoru and suguru — in your corner, you figured you could handle whatever this wild journey with toji brought your way.

the planning was barely underway, but with gojo involved, it was already spinning wildly out of control.

“i’m telling you, the whole thing’s on me!” gojo announced, practically vibrating with excitement. he looked at you and toji with a glint in his eye that screamed no room for negotiation. “no expenses spared, no corners cut.”

you exchanged a look with toji, and he rolled his eyes. “we’re not celebrities, gojo. we don’t need you to go full kardashian here.”

gojo waved a hand dismissively. “nonsense! it’s your wedding. our wedding,” he corrected, gesturing grandly to include everyone. “i want nothing but the best for our girl and toji — even if he does look like he’s heading to a funeral half the time.”

toji snorted. “you’d look like this too if you had to put up with you on a daily basis.”

gojo gasped dramatically. “how dare you! i’m delightful!”

suguru, who was sitting back watching the chaos with his usual serene expression, piped up, “you know, he’s technically sponsoring it, so he’s not wrong. though i am begging you to leave the smoke machines and laser lights out of it.”

gojo gave suguru a mock-offended look. “oh, come on! think of the ambiance!”

“i’m thinking of it, alright,” suguru said dryly. “and it’s giving me a headache.”

“how about we go traditional?” you suggested, trying to bring some order to the conversation. “nothing too flashy. simple, elegant, you know?”

“but, mama,” megumi piped up, looking up from the sketches he’d been doodling. “we have to have the dragon fountain!”

toji raised an eyebrow. “dragon fountain?”

megumi nodded, eyes wide with excitement. “a chocolate fountain! but, like, huge and with dragon heads spouting chocolate!”

gojo slapped his knee, eyes gleaming. “genius idea, kiddo! a dragon fountain it is! we could even do white, milk, and dark chocolate heads. maybe throw in a caramel one, too!”

you shook your head, laughing. “and who’s going to eat all this chocolate? because i’m not sure megumi’s digestive system can handle that much sugar.”

“we’ll make it work,” shoko chimed in, flipping through a wedding planner book that she clearly swiped off some poor, unsuspecting bride-to-be. “if gojo’s footing the bill, might as well go all out. i’ll take care of managing his ambitions.”

“exactly! shoko gets it,” gojo beamed, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “and don’t worry, i’ll make sure to throw in an open bar. suguru, back me up on this — no wedding’s complete without one.”

“only if we don’t make it a neon glow theme,” suguru deadpanned. “or i’ll skip town on the day.”

gojo smirked. “okay, fine, we’ll tone it down. maybe we can go with a tasteful theme. you know, candles and chandeliers…”

toji eyed him suspiciously. “you better not pull any of those ‘tasteful’ surprises where everyone suddenly has glow sticks halfway through the reception.”

gojo crossed his heart. “scout’s honor. only sophisticated, adult fun.”

you leaned back with a sigh, sharing an exasperated smile with toji. “honestly, i was picturing something small and simple. i mean, it’s our wedding, not some movie premiere.”

“but that’s so boring,” gojo whined, flopping onto the couch with a pout. “it’s the event of the century! my best friend’s wedding!”

“we’re not giving you a starring role in it, satoru,” you replied, but you couldn’t help laughing. “it’s not the same as one of your campaigns.”

“pfft,” he waved it off, clearly ignoring you. “oh, and i’m bringing in a string quartet. suguru, thoughts?”

“a quartet’s fine,” suguru replied. “as long as you’re not personally conducting them.”

toji raised a brow. “wait, how many musicians do we need? i thought it was just a dj.”

“absolutely not!” gojo interjected. “this is a high-class affair, we need a live band for the ambiance. and maybe — just maybe — a marching band as we enter the reception. what do you think?”

“i think you need to sit down,” toji said, chuckling. “keep it up, and you’ll be banned from your own wedding planning.”

“and i’ll be running the whole show,” shoko added, smirking. “trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

“fine, fine,” gojo sighed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “but you can’t deny that i have style.”

you glanced over at toji, trying to suppress your laughter. “so we’re really doing this?”

he shrugged, grinning. “apparently. might as well enjoy the circus. just remember, all i need is you, okay?”

gojo pretended to gag. “gross, i think i just tasted actual romance.”

“you’re just jealous, gojo,” shoko teased. “let the man have his moment.”

suguru smirked, patting gojo’s shoulder. “come on, let’s go look into the dragon fountain, yeah?”

gojo lit up, giving you and toji a thumbs-up. “this is gonna be the best day of your lives!”

you shook your head, feeling a mix of amusement and warmth as you watched them all bicker and plan in their chaotic way.

sure, maybe you didn’t need the dragon fountain or the live band or any of gojo’s grand ideas, but looking at everyone around you, you knew this was exactly the kind of crazy family you’d never trade for anything.

it was a whirlwind few months of planning, but in the end, everything started coming together…even if it took a little extra wrangling to keep gojo’s more eccentric ideas at bay.

first, there was the venue selection.

gojo initially wanted a “renaissance castle, with a giant moat and a drawbridge,” which, he claimed, would make a “stunning entrance.”

shoko quickly vetoed that. “this isn’t a medieval fair, satoru. we’re going for elegance here.”

then came the color scheme.

gojo suggested “electric blue and neon green,” which he swore was “super chic,” but after he received enough horrified stares, he reluctantly gave in.

the final choice?

muted blues and creams, which, as shoko put it, “won’t make the guests feel like they’re trapped in a laser tag arena.”

then there was the music situation.

“how about we have fien by travis scott for when you walk down the aisle?” gojo suggested with a grin, only half-joking.

“you want travis scott at the wedding?” you stared at him, incredulous.

toji looked equally appalled. “how about we play something that doesn’t have bass drops? we’re not clubbing.”

in the end, they settled on something classier — an instrumental piece by a local string quartet, though toji muttered about how the only reason he was going along with it was because it would make you happy. gojo had to be dragged out before he suggested sicko mode as the first dance song.

despite gojo’s quirks, megumi was probably the most eager of the group. every day at school, he proudly informed his teachers and classmates of the “big wedding coming up.”

and his absolute favorite title for you?

“oh, my mama’ll be here soon,” he announced one afternoon, shocking his teacher, who had only ever known him as the kid with a hot, single dad.

“your…mom?” she asked, blinking in confusion.

“yeah, she’s coming today.” he said it so matter-of-factly that by the time you actually arrived, half the class was already convinced you’d been hiding in the shadows for years.

and when you walked into the classroom, every pair of eyes turned toward you, wide and incredulous.

“uh, hi,” you greeted, awkwardly waving as megumi bounded up to you, gripping your hand with a proud grin. “this your class, megs?”

“mhm! this is my mama, everybody.” he announced it loud enough for everyone to hear, looking back at his teacher. “see? if you need anything, just talk to her!”

you exchanged an amused look with toji later that day. “our son,” you chuckled, “may or may not have given his teachers a heart attack.”

“good,” toji grinned, ruffling megumi’s hair. “let ’em wonder.”

the pre-wedding festivities were somehow even wilder.

gojo had gotten it into his head that he should coordinate the bachelor and bachelorette parties, because “who else could bring the flair?” to everyone’s surprise, he actually managed a tasteful, elegant evening — though he did keep his ‘last-minute party favors’ a surprise until the last second.

“here, just a little souvenir.” he handed out tiny, almost suspiciously pristine boxes.

inside? custom bobbleheads of you, toji, and yes — even megumi, wearing a tiny tuxedo.

toji, upon seeing his, just stared blankly. “satoru, why do i look like a discount action figure?”

“it’s a memento, buddy,” gojo laughed. “something you’ll cherish forever.”

“you’ll cherish it in your nightmares,” shoko muttered, chuckling as she pocketed hers.

then, finally, the day of the wedding arrived, a surprisingly classy affair thanks to shoko’s firm guidance and gojo’s slight restraint. and as you walked down the aisle with the string quartet playing softly, you looked out at everyone — megumi’s wide-eyed excitement, shoko’s small smile, suguru’s approving nod…and gojo, wiping a “single sassy tear” away as he mouthed, “this could’ve been fein.”

and as you met toji at the altar, his smile a mix of amusement and affection, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the beautiful chaos that had led you here.

the ceremony had a cozy warmth to it, one that settled in everyone’s chests as you and toji stood before each other, eyes locked, hands intertwined. but all of it nearly paled in comparison to the pride beaming from megumi’s little face. he stood off to the side, clutching the ring pillow with a mix of fierce concentration and excitement. his little hands gripped the pillow as if it were the most sacred artifact on earth.

“okay, megs,” toji whispered to him, giving a little nod. “it’s your moment, champ.”

megumi straightened up, lifting the pillow and marching toward you with all the poise of a seasoned soldier, chin up and shoulders squared. when he reached you, he stopped and gave an exaggerated bow, then held up the pillow with both hands.

“tall, just like i promised,” he whispered, looking up at toji with an earnest pride in his eyes. “i drank milk two times a day for this.”

you stifled a laugh as you took the ring from the pillow, smiling down at him. “all that milk’s paying off, huh?”

“mhm!” he beamed. “i think i’m taller already.” he gave a firm nod, looking satisfied with his growth, then shuffled back to stand with gojo and shoko, still watching the two of you intently.

toji grinned at him and turned back to you, holding your hands as he spoke his vows. his voice was steady, but you could see the faintest flicker of nerves — the soft, vulnerable side he only ever showed you.

“so,” he started, a little sheepishly. “i never thought i’d be the type to stand here, saying vows. but then i met you. first night we met, i figured you were just another person at a bar, and i’d never see you again. but then…you became everything. every single moment i’ve had since then, it’s all been better because you were there.”

you felt your heart clench as he continued, his voice soft but filled with a rare tenderness.

“i love you when you’re writing all those silly stories, when you’re with megumi, when you’re just…being you. and yeah, maybe ‘dancing queen’ playing in my head every time you walk in the room is cheesy, but… i’m a sucker for it.” he shrugged, his smile widening. “you make me a better man, even if i’m just a little rough around the edges.”

you couldn’t help the tear that slipped down your cheek as he finished, a gentle squeeze of his hands grounding you. it was your turn, and you took a shaky breath before starting, your voice full of affection.

“toji, i never thought…i’d be here, either. i spent my life writing about love, imagining it, but never really believing it was something i’d have for myself. and then you showed up.” you laughed softly, remembering the times you’d found yourself scribbling little details about him into your stories. “and now…i can’t imagine a world without you in it.”

toji’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you continued.

“you taught me to be brave, to open up. you showed me what it means to love someone and be loved in return. you and megumi — you two are my family, and i’m so grateful to be a part of yours.” you paused, swallowing down the emotion in your throat. “and i promise, every day, to be there for you, to love you, and…to keep dancing with you, even when we’re old and gray.”

his grin widened, and he let out a small chuckle. “gray, huh? guess that’s something to look forward to.”

with the vows said, it was time for the rings. toji slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands a little shaky, and you did the same for him, feeling the weight of the moment settle in your chest.

and then, as you leaned in for the kiss, just as your lips met his, the opening notes of dancing queen began to play. you pulled back, eyes widening in disbelief, while toji stifled a laugh.

“oh, come on,” he whispered, trying to hide his amusement. “did you…did you plan this?”

“me?” you shook your head, glancing around as you caught gojo giving you a thumbs-up from the crowd, a wide grin on his face. he’d clearly orchestrated it somehow, probably having the dj on standby.

“you can dance, you can jive…” the music continued, filling the room with a cheerful, infectious energy that made you laugh as you hugged toji tightly.

“guess it’s our song now,” toji murmured, his forehead resting against yours as he held you close.

“always has been,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand.

and as the music played on, megumi sprinted over to you two, tugging on your hands. “dance! we’re supposed to dance now!”

toji scooped him up, holding him between you as the three of you swayed to the song, laughing as megumi did his best eight-year-old version of dancing, wiggling in toji’s arms with unabashed excitement.

“i think i did a good job as ring bearer, don’t you think?” he grinned, looking up at you both with pure pride.

“you did amazing, mumi,” you said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“best ring bearer ever,” toji agreed, ruffling his hair. “all that milk really paid off.”

and as the night continued, filled with laughter, love, and a whole lot of dancing queen, you felt an overwhelming sense of joy that this was your family, your life, and the beginning of a lifetime of moments just like this one.

as you and toji stand together on the dance floor, the lights dimmed just enough to give it that perfect, romantic glow, everything felt like it was about to hit a new, sentimental level. the music was supposed to be soft, maybe perfect for a couple's dance — something wholesome and family-friendly to fit the moment. but then —

fein by travis scott. blaring.

you froze, eyes widening as the heavy bass dropped like a wrecking ball to your senses. this was not the song you had in mind for your first dance as a married couple.

your gaze shot toward gojo, who looked… guilty but also way too pleased with himself as he fumbled with his phone.

“oh, shit!” gojo muttered, his wide grin faltering as he scrambled to fix his mistake, his fingers slipping all over his phone’s screen. “uh, my bad! wrong song, sorry — just — uh — lemme —”

before he could finish, you heard a loud “FUCK!” from across the room, followed by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. suguru, looking oddly alarmed, had clearly noticed too. you had to hand it to him, though, gojo at least looked mildly embarrassed for the first time that night.

satoru’s hands flew over his phone with the sort of intensity one might reserve for disarming a bomb. “wait, wait, i got this. i’ll fix it — i’m so sorry — one second —”

as if the universe was playing along with your horror, gojo accidentally hit play on fein again, the heavy, thumping beat continuing in the background as you and toji both exchanged a bewildered glance. you could feel the burning heat creeping into your cheeks.

“that’s the one?” you whispered to toji, your voice barely audible over the beat.

toji tried to stifle a laugh, clearly more amused than shocked. “well, it’s something.”

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, your head turning toward megumi, who was looking at you with wide eyes. “what’s his excuse?” you asked with a sarcastic eyebrow raise, pointing at the very loud song still playing.

megumi, standing off to the side with a cocktail of confusion and excitement, crossed his arms and gave you a very serious look. “uncle gojo played this song,” he announced with pride, causing everyone to stop and stare.

“you know, at the bachel-her party.”

the room went silent for a brief, awkward second as the realization hit everyone. a few chuckles broke out, with a mix of surprised snickers and a couple of “well, that explains things.”

you could barely suppress a laugh. you were so not ready for that bombshell.

toji’s face went from amused to fully amused, his lips curling into an undeniable grin. “yup,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, giving a shrug. “that’s our song, apparently.”

gojo, finally managing to switch the song, looked over with actual concern now. “oh god, oh god, i’m so sorry — i swear, i didn’t mean for fein to be — ugh.” he slapped his hand to his forehead.

“okay, okay, i’m fixing it —”

there was another flurry of frantic finger taps as gojo went into full damage control mode. finally, as the last few beats of fein faded out, gojo hit play on iris by the goo goo dolls, the gentle, familiar melody washing over the room like a sigh of relief.

you and toji exchanged a knowing glance, now suddenly locked in a much calmer atmosphere. the song that toji had actually requested was finally playing, and as he pulled you closer, your heart settled.

“better?” toji asked, pulling you into the rhythm of the song.

“much better,” you whispered with a sigh, your lips brushing against his.

meanwhile, megumi, clearly thrilled by his earlier announcement, grinned ear-to-ear. “this is the song! mama and daddy kissed to this song!”

and at that, you could only chuckle. what a night, you thought to yourself, completely unsure if you’d ever get used to the chaos that surrounded you, but not really minding it one bit.

as the soft notes of iris continue to play, toji pulls you close, his hand resting warm and steady at the small of your back. you sway together, feeling every beat, every strum of the guitar wrapping around the both of you like the sweetest memory.

“so,” toji murmurs, a little smirk tugging at his lips as he looks down at you, “do i still get to be a heartthrob now that we’re hitched?”

you chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully. “only if i still get to be the girl with the cringe smut,” you say, barely holding back a laugh as you remember the early days of your writing.

“you’ve made peace with the fact that your wife has a, uh… let’s just say colorful bibliography?”

toji’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “you kidding? i brag about it. ‘you know my girl? bestseller, faceless author, author of all those spicy scenes.’ you think it’s cringe; i think it’s hot.”

you snort. “you’re impossible. i still remember you giving me the most unimpressed look when you found out what i actually wrote about.”

“hey, i was surprised,” he defends, grinning as he twirls you out and back into his arms. “who knew the girl who pukes on people’s shoes was writing, uh, dragon-king-mating scenes?”

“oh, hush,” you laugh, feeling your cheeks heat. “i told you, it’s a metaphor for forbidden love and courage in the face of adversity.”

“yeah, sure, it’s all about the ‘courage,’” he teases, leaning in close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead. “all i’m saying is, those scenes of yours? they’re, uh, kinda what won me over.”

you hide your face in his shoulder, feeling a happy flush spread across your cheeks as you sway together under the soft glow of the lights. “guess it’s too late to be embarrassed, huh?”

he tilts your chin up with a gentle finger, his gaze softer than you’ve ever seen it. “it’s what made you you. wouldn’t change a thing about it.”

the song swells around you, and as the lyrics hit their most tender line, toji leans down, brushing his lips against yours, a sweet, slow kiss that feels like the first all over again. when you part, he grins, shaking his head. “damn… still can’t believe i got lucky enough to make you mine.”

“only took a few months, a few trolls, and a lot of questionable genre choices,” you say, snickering.

“and one too many ‘dancing queen’ sing-alongs,” he adds, laughing softly.

as the song fades, the two of you stand there for a moment longer, gazing at each other, just happy, laughing, and a little teary-eyed.

the night is winding down, and as you and toji make your rounds to say goodbye, a familiar cluster of chaos catches your attention. gojo, shoko, and geto have managed to gather near the dragon-shaped chocolate fountain, each of them clearly feeling the effects of the open bar in different ways.

megumi is standing with them, arms crossed, his small face set in a dead-serious expression that would have been almost intimidating… if he wasn’t standing beside a towering chocolate dragon, looking very much like a tiny mob boss supervising his drunk henchmen.

“ahem.” gojo clears his throat, squinting dramatically up at the chocolate dragon, hand pressed to his heart. “‘and so, the beast gazed upon the fair maiden, his molten eyes devouring her with a hunger so fierce, the very heavens trembled —’”

you choke back a laugh as toji groans under his breath, muttering, “for the love of god, not this.”

“that’s one of your lines, isn’t it?” shoko says, smirking as she precariously holds her cigarette in one hand and a half-empty wine glass in the other. “gojo’s been quoting it all night.”

“that’s from the mating scene!” megumi exclaims, clearly unaware of the implications. “that’s where the dragon’s supposed to eat —”

“aaaannd let’s maybe not finish that line, huh?” toji interrupts quickly, clapping a hand over his son’s mouth.

gojo winks, wagging a finger. “hey, let the kid express himself! it’s culture, toji. classic literature!”

“uh, yeah. classic,” you say, trying not to snort as gojo raises his glass to the dragon fountain like he’s toasting it.

geto, meanwhile, is slumped against the fountain, head lolling to the side. he’s still upright — barely — but he looks like he might be one sip away from face-planting into the chocolate.

“persephone wines, my beloved…” he mutters, raising his empty glass before letting it drop with a sigh. “sweet nectar of the gods.”

shoko snickers, jabbing him in the shoulder. “lightweight.”

“am not,” geto mumbles, eyes half-closed. “i’m… selectively conscious.”

“selectively conscious?” toji repeats, eyebrows raised.

“he means he’s out cold but doesn’t want to admit it,” shoko says, shrugging as she lifts her cigarette to her lips, only to nearly dip it in her wine glass instead.

“don’t mix your drink with your smokes, shoko,” gojo warns, chuckling. “unless you’re going for that extra flavor.”

“yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, carefully balancing the cigarette away from the wine glass. “why does this fountain look like it’s judging me?”

“because it’s a dragon, and dragons don’t approve of your vices,” gojo says, patting her shoulder with exaggerated sympathy. “they are noble, chaste beasts.”

“then why’d it drink all the wine?” shoko deadpans, gesturing to the near-empty fountain where the wine had been topped off earlier.

meanwhile, megumi, still solemn, looks up at toji with wide eyes. “daddy, i don’t think uncle geto’s feeling well.”

“nah, kid, he’s… he’s just really appreciating the art of, uh, selective consciousness,” toji says, ruffling megumi’s hair.

gojo swoops down, putting his hands on megumi’s shoulders. “you’re absolutely right, young megumi. you know, you have a strong sense of observation. very wise of you.”

“thanks,” megumi says, puffing his chest up, as if the compliment has suddenly made him five years older. he looks over at geto.

“uncle geto, are you gonna fall asleep now?”

geto waves a lazy hand in the air. “nah, i’m just… uh… recharging.” he attempts to give a thumbs up, but it’s more of a half-hearted flop.

toji sighs, looking at you with a smirk. “we’ve gotta start taking megumi to different family gatherings.”

you grin back, watching as megumi, with utmost seriousness, turns to shoko. “don’t let your cigarette fall in your wine, auntie shoko. it’ll taste funny.”

shoko salutes him, barely holding in a laugh. “don’t worry, kid. i got it handled.”

just then, gojo raises his glass to the chocolate dragon again. “to the majestic beast, who has blessed us with chocolate and a fountain! long may it reign!”

“it’s a fountain, not a king,” megumi says, frowning. “and it’s chocolate, not magic.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, my young padawan,” gojo says with mock seriousness, kneeling down to megumi’s height. “tonight, everything is magic.” he waves a hand around as if he’s casting a spell, and megumi’s eyes widen, half-believing him, even as he tries to stay serious.

toji rolls his eyes, laughing. “all right, let’s wrap this up before someone thinks you’re actually casting spells on my kid, gojo.”

as you lead megumi back, he tugs on your hand, whispering, “mama, are they always this… funny?”

“always,” you whisper back, grinning. “but don’t tell them that. we’ll just let them think they’re profound.”

“okay,” megumi whispers, stifling a giggle as he steals one last glance at the chocolate dragon.

the night’s finally winding down, and somehow, all of you have ended up sprawled in the open venue like you’re camping under the stars. shoko’s leaning back in her chair, taking a deep drag of her cigarette, but she keeps glancing at megumi, who’s sitting between you and toji and nodding off in your lap, his little head bobbing up and down.

“you know, i’m not trying to be a bad influence,” shoko mutters, trying to angle her cigarette away. “but it’s hard being an icon.”

toji smirks, watching her struggle. “yeah, we all know you’re a real role model, shoko. a true beacon of health and wellness.”

“hey, i’ll have you know i haven’t let this thing drop once tonight,” she says, demonstrating by carefully holding it at a ridiculous angle. “takes precision.”

meanwhile, geto’s leaning against the chocolate fountain — completely passed out, slumped over like he’s waiting for the chocolate to baptize him. you can already see a smear on his collar where it’s dripped, and it’s only a matter of time before it’s all over him.

“is he just gonna… sleep there?” you ask, stifling a laugh as you glance at geto’s chocolate-streaked suit.

gojo, lying on the grass like he’s sunbathing, starts belting out, “she thought it was the ocean, it’s just the pool —”

“oh god,” toji groans, “don’t tell me you’re singing sicko mode right now, gojo.”

“don’t disrespect a banger, toji,” gojo says, eyes closed, waving his hands around like he’s conducting an invisible orchestra. “this is the music of our generation.”

shoko snorts, blowing smoke out of the corner of her mouth. “what generation is that? ‘trashy late twenties’?”

“more like ‘perpetual adolescence,’” you add, trying not to laugh too loud, lest you wake megumi.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” gojo mumbles, now onto the next verse and fully invested. “i am the culture.”

toji raises his eyebrows, giving you a look. “i don’t remember ‘culture’ looking this drunk.”

“or this dramatic,” you reply, glancing over at geto. “do you think he’ll wake up covered in chocolate?”

“oh, definitely,” toji says, nodding with mock seriousness. “he’ll be sticky for days.”

“wonder what he’ll tell people when they ask about it,” you say, grinning.

“just gotta tell them it’s part of the, uh, life experience,” shoko says, flicking ash off her cigarette. “you know — ‘don’t go to weddings with chocolate fountains.’”

“or uncles with questionable song choices,” toji adds, glancing at gojo.

“excuse me,” gojo slurs, sitting up to squint at you both. “my taste is immaculate.”

megumi stirs, blinking up at you with sleepy eyes. “why’s uncle gojo yelling?”

“he’s not yelling, sweetheart,” you say, petting his hair as he leans back against you. “he’s just… expressing himself.”

“in a way that makes us all wish we were deaf,” toji adds under his breath.

gojo points a finger, swaying slightly. “hey, the kid gets it. you get it, right, megumi?”

megumi yawns, nodding seriously. “i get it, uncle gojo.”

“see?” gojo says, looking triumphant as he turns back to you all, gesturing like he’s just won an argument. “my number one fan.”

shoko rolls her eyes, snubbing her cigarette out and pulling out another. “well, congrats on your massive fanbase.”

megumi glances at you, then at gojo sprawled out on the grass. “is uncle geto gonna be okay?”

you look over at geto, still fast asleep, chocolate slowly trickling down his sleeve. “yeah, honey, he’s fine. just a little… messy.”

“very messy,” toji agrees, chuckling. “just… don’t touch his suit when he wakes up. he might, uh, have some sticky spots.”

megumi nods sagely, as if absorbing some profound wisdom. “got it, daddy.”

gojo squints up at the sky, suddenly philosophical. “you know, someday, this kid is gonna be sitting here with us, yelling sicko mode with his whole heart.”

toji raises an eyebrow. “oh, over my dead body.”

“and shoko will still be lecturing us about cigarette angles,” you add.

shoko raises her glass. “as long as this fountain keeps flowing, i’m here, people.”

you and toji exchange a glance, each of you feeling a little warmth at the ridiculous, messy sight in front of you: shoko trying not to ash on megumi, gojo doing terrible karaoke on the grass, and geto about to wake up covered in chocolate.

“found family, huh?” you murmur, nudging toji.

“the best kind,” he says, slinging an arm around you and giving you a soft smile. “drunk as they may be.”

the hour finally ticks to a close, and as much as you’re all reluctant to end the night, it’s time to gather your things — and your people. the first challenge: waking up suguru, who, by this point, is practically glued to the chocolate fountain.

“alright, gojo,” toji says, clapping him on the shoulder, “time to work that charm of yours and wake him up.”

gojo, slightly wobbly himself, crouches down beside suguru and starts lightly patting his face. “rise and shine, buddy,” he says, voice soft but persistent. “time to say goodbye to your chocolate fountain dreams.”

suguru stirs, eyes fluttering open, and as he groggily lifts his arm, he finally notices the chocolate smeared from his shoulder to his wrist. his eyes widen in absolute horror.

“wha… why am i covered in —”

“chooccoolate!” gojo singsongs, smirking.

and then, in a flash of inspiration (or tipsy madness), he starts singing, “i get those goosebumps every time —”

suguru visibly cringes, letting out a low groan as he struggles to stand. “i swear, satoru, if you keep singing travis scott, i’m never inviting you to another wedding.”

“but you’re never getting married, suguru,” shoko points out dryly, lighting her cigarette with a sly grin.

toji and you exchange a look as suguru desperately tries to wipe chocolate off his shirt with the tiniest napkin available. meanwhile, gojo’s at his side, still humming “goosebumps,” ignoring every glare suguru shoots his way.

“satoru, i’m going to kill you,” suguru mumbles, half-heartedly, as he inspects the damage.

gojo just shrugs, beaming. “c’mmoonn, sugu boo. who else can say they’ve bathed in chocolate at a wedding?”

suguru gives a low growl, eyeing gojo’s still-grinning face. “considering how close you are to me right now, it might be your last experience.”

“oh, lighten up, chocolate boy,” gojo teases, attempting to wipe some of the chocolate off suguru’s cheek with his sleeve. “besides, what’s a wedding without a little mess?”

megumi, watching this exchange with wide eyes, tugs on your sleeve. “mama, do all weddings end like this?”

you chuckle, ruffling his hair. “only the good ones, sweetheart.”

as you finally start herding everyone out, suguru’s still muttering darkly about chocolate-stained suits and “inappropriate” song choices, while gojo is just barely resisting the urge to belt out the next verse of goosebumps.

“you guys are a mess,” toji says, shaking his head with a smile, his arm around you. “but i guess i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“same here,” you reply, smiling back. “same here.”

all of you pile into the limo, grateful for suguru’s one stroke of foresight, booking this ride while everyone was still sober. as you maneuver your wedding dress inside, megumi insists on climbing onto your lap, declaring with all the authority of an eight-year-old, “mama knows how to hold me right.” he gives toji a pointed look, as if his dad’s lap-sitting skills just aren’t up to par.

“excuse me, kid,” toji grumbles, adjusting his position to give you both more space. “i think i know a thing or two about carrying you. who else makes you pancakes every sunday?”

megumi shrugs, completely unfazed. “pancakes are great, daddy, but mama gives better cuddles.”

you stifle a laugh, giving toji a look of faux pity. “don’t take it personally,” you say with a grin. “he’s right, after all.”

suguru, meanwhile, is eyeing your dress with near-maniacal caution, inching away as if any move might accidentally graze you with chocolate. “i swear,” he mutters, inspecting his own suit for stray smudges, “if this dress ends up looking like a chocolate fountain threw up on it, i’m sending blondie the dry-cleaning bill.”

“hey!” gojo’s leaning halfway out of his seat, one arm slung dramatically around shoko, who looks five seconds away from needing a cigarette fix. “don’t bring me into this! i’m innocent in all things chocolate.”

“satoru, you literally shoved my face into it,” suguru deadpans, “and serenaded me while you did it.”

gojo waves this off, now onto more important matters as he leans in and rambles, “you know, what’s really baffling is political and economical state of the world right now. that’s the real travesty here. and i’m telling you, if they’d just let me —”

shoko groans, pressing her head against the window. “does anyone have a cigarette? please? my kingdom for a cigarette.”

“sorry, shoko,” you say, chuckling. “think of it as part of the wedding cleanse experience.”

as the limo cruises through the city streets, carrying your chaotic found family toward your new home — the fushiguro household, now your household — you lean back, looking around at everyone. suguru, still chocolate-stained but pretending he’s fine; gojo in full-on philosophical mode about everything from global warming to city planning; shoko, pressing her hands together in mock-prayer for a nicotine miracle; and megumi, snug and content in your lap, his eyelids growing heavy as he fights off sleep.

toji catches your eye and reaches over, intertwining his hand with yours, a soft smile gracing his face. “ready to make this house our home?” he murmurs.

you squeeze his hand, taking in the laughter, the exhaustion, and the overwhelming happiness filling the limo. “more than ready,” you say, your heart swelling as you look around at this motley crew you wouldn’t trade for anything.

it’s a mad, loud family, but it’s yours.

as everyone practically spills out of the limo, gojo’s in full swing with the limo driver, pressing a crumpled wad of cash into the poor man’s hand.

“no, no, you don’t get it, dude,” gojo slurs, with a look of utmost sincerity. “this — this is not just money. this is… appreciation. this is the currency of human kindness.” he pats the driver on the shoulder, swaying a bit as he leans closer. “use it wisely… maybe buy yourself a castle. or a yacht. or a little… dog. something that’s life-changing.”

the driver gives an awkward thumbs-up, flashing a quick glance at the rest of you, clearly wondering if he needs to call someone to get gojo home safely.

meanwhile, toji’s already wrangling everyone toward the door, shoko dashing past him the moment the suite door opens. “please tell me you still keep an emergency stash,” she says, practically sprinting toward the mini bar. “for my sanity.”

“yeah, yeah, knock yourself out,” toji mutters, eyeing the chaos that’s just ambled into his home. as he does, megumi somehow finds himself perched on gojo’s shoulder, practically screeching as gojo does a wobbly loop around the living room, giggling, “it’s cuddle time! everyone needs to embrace the love!”

“uncle gojo, put me down!” megumi’s half-exasperated, half-amused as he tries to wriggle free. “i don’t need cuddles, okay?”

gojo gasps as if megumi’s words are a personal affront. “excuse me? everyone needs cuddles! it’s essential for growth! and happiness! don’t deny yourself, little one.”

suguru slumps onto the sofa, still blinking himself awake from his chocolate coma. but unfortunately, his landing spot is also where a chunk of melted chocolate has found its new home.

he sighs in defeat, barely lifting his hand to wave at toji. “i swear i didn’t bring the chocolate here. it… it followed me.”

toji’s had just about enough. “alright, everybody, listen up.” he points at gojo, megumi, and suguru, who all look up like chastened kids caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“before any of you touch anything else in my suite — or each other — go change. now.”

“but i am changed,” gojo protests, arms flailing out as if to display his wrinkled suit as high fashion.

“changed by the power of love. and a little bit of persephone wines, which, by the way —”

“clothes, satoru,” toji says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he ushers everyone down the hall. “as in, ones that aren’t covered in alcohol, chocolate, or other questionable substances.”

megumi looks up at you, tugging on your dress. “do i have to change too? ‘cause i’m fine just like this.”

you smile down at him, patting his messy little head. “just pajamas, okay? then we can all cuddle up on the big bed. sound good?”

“okay, mama!” he says, darting off to grab his pjs, excitement back at full force. “hurry up, everyone! daddy said so!”

as you and toji finally manage to herd everyone toward the bedrooms and out of their various states of disaster, you can’t help but laugh. this, somehow, is the perfect end to your wedding night — a makeshift family piled up in a cozy heap, as unconventional and chaotic as ever, but perfectly yours.

in megumi’s room, you and shoko finally get a chance to breathe, away from the chaos. you pull out one of toji’s oversized shirts and a pair of shorts, feeling instantly cozy as the familiar scent of him settles around you.

meanwhile, shoko slips into a t-shirt of yours and some spare leggings you’d left for nights just like this — megumi’s last-minute “you have to stay!” pleas that always won you over.

as shoko pulls the t-shirt down, smoothing it over her frame, she gives you a little smirk. “well, don’t we look like a couple of sleepover queens?”

“only the best for auntie shoko,” you say, giving her a playful nudge.

shoko rolls her eyes, leaning back against megumi’s wall. “speaking of… i was thinking.” she pauses, letting out a sigh, her fingers absently running through her hair.

“maybe i could… y’know, try and cut down on the smokes. for megumi. last thing i want is him being a passive smoker every time ’m around.”

you smile at her, feeling a swell of warmth at the thought. “oh, shoko. you don’t have to change anything for him — he already adores you just the way you are.”

“yeah, but…” she shrugs, looking down at her hands, uncharacteristically shy. “i wanna be around. y’know? like, really around. and if that means giving up a little bit of my precious nicotine, then…” she huffs, as if the idea is both noble and annoying. “then i’ll do it. for him. but only because he’s the cutest kid i know.”

“you’re really going soft on me here,” you tease, watching her with a grin.

she laughs, nudging your shoulder. “don’t get used to it. i’ll still talk trash about satoru and his ‘save the world’ speeches every chance i get. but…” she pauses, catching your eye with a slight smirk.

“i don’t know, this whole… you and toji thing, it’s made me think a little differently. like, maybe i could be the cool aunt without corrupting the kid entirely.”

you chuckle, nodding. “hey, a little bit of corruption isn’t the worst thing. but i know what you mean. it’s nice, isn’t it? having this… makeshift family?”

“nice? it’s downright ridiculous,” shoko scoffs, but her eyes are soft. “i mean, i spent the last hour watching suguru melt into a chocolate-covered mess and satoru wax poetic to the limo driver, all while toji was trying to keep from strangling the lot of us. and now here we are, pretending to be responsible adults.”

“that’s the beauty of it, though,” you laugh. “none of us really knows what we’re doing, but somehow it just… works.”

shoko smiles at that, a real, genuine smile, her usual sarcasm melting away for just a moment. “well, whatever it is, i’m in. auntie shoko, reporting for duty. megumi’s gonna be spoiled out of his mind, and if anyone tries to mess with him, they’ll have to go through me first.”

you laugh, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze. “he’s lucky to have you.”

“nope,” she says, leaning in and bumping her forehead against yours. “we’re all lucky to have each other.”

there’s a comfortable silence, the two of you just sharing the moment in a quiet way that doesn’t need any more words. a kind of unspoken understanding hangs in the air, one that only comes from years of friendship and late-night heart-to-hearts like this.

and as you both start to head out, you catch her glancing back at megumi’s room with a soft expression, the tiniest hint of a smile lingering on her lips.

down in toji’s room, it was another brand of chaos entirely. gojo was sprawled across the bed, bouncing his leg impatiently as he kept knocking — more like pounding — on the bathroom door.

“yo, ruru! you still smell like a candy shop in there, or are you finally coming out as a functioning human?” gojo called, knocking for what felt like the tenth time.

inside the bathroom, suguru groaned, scrubbing furiously at his arms. “if you knock one more time, satoru, i swear, i will dunk you in a vat of chocolate and make you regret the day you were born.”

gojo cackled, delighted. “you’d have to catch me first, chocolate boy.”

meanwhile, toji was across the room with megumi, helping him into his little pajamas. megumi stood still as his dad tugged his pajama top over his head, looking up with big eyes.

“daddy?” he asked, his voice soft and a little curious.

toji glanced down, smiling. “yeah, kiddo?”

megumi fidgeted with the hem of his pajamas. “does mama get to stay forever now?”

toji’s face softened, and he crouched down to look megumi in the eye, his hand gently ruffling his son’s dark hair. “yeah, bud. she’s with us now. part of our family for good.”

megumi’s eyes lit up, and he tried to stand even taller — he was growing, after all. “so she’ll be here when i wake up every day?”

toji chuckled, nodding. “every day. and every night too, so you don’t have to worry about anything. she’s with us.”

megumi nodded seriously, like he was processing the weight of it all. “i gotta make sure i don’t mess up then.”

toji raised an eyebrow, surprised. “mess up? why do you think you’d mess up?”

“well… i wanna make her happy too,” megumi admitted, glancing down. “like you do.”

toji’s heart melted a little as he hugged his son tightly. “listen, kid. you being you? that’s more than enough to make her happy. trust me.”

megumi looked up, reassured. “okay. i’ll be the best son ever, promise.”

“you already are,” toji said, smiling.

right then, gojo’s voice cut through the father-son moment as he yelled through the bathroom door yet again. “suguurruu! come on, we’re all waiting! we’re a family, we’ve got things to discuss, like who’s picking the next karaoke song, and why it absolutely has to be ‘freak on a leash.’”

suguru yelled back, voice echoing through the bathroom, “for the last time, i’m not doing karaoke, satoru! and if you don’t let me scrub off this chocolate smell in peace, you’re gonna be next!”

toji sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at megumi. “and that,” he said with a smirk, “is the family you’re stuck with now, kid.”

megumi grinned. “good. i think they’re funny.”

“funny’s one word for it.”

the morning after the wedding was supposed to be calm and slow, but the second megumi padded down the hall, any hopes of quiet went straight out the window.

"mama, dad, i gotta go to school!" he said, trying to sound all responsible but still rubbing sleep from his eyes. he even brought his backpack to your room, a whole mini-adult, as if that would magically make everyone get out of bed faster.

toji groaned, wrapping an arm around you to keep you in bed. "can’t he just... skip?" he muttered into his pillow, half-asleep.

before you could answer, an all-too-loud, way-too-enthusiastic voice boomed from the hall.

"time to shine, future valedictorian!" gojo practically sung, bursting through the door in last night’s slightly wrinkled suit, sunglasses on, and his smile at full wattage.

behind him, shoko and geto shuffled in, looking equally disheveled and far too awake for this hour. shoko held up her coffee like it was a badge of honor, and geto just nodded, bleary-eyed, clearly not yet regretting his life choices.

"so," shoko said, pointing to megumi with her coffee mug, "we’re taking the kid to school. it’s what, like, a fifteen-minute trip?"

“yeah,” you mumbled, not even fully awake yet. "are... are you guys seriously doing this?"

megumi's face lit up like christmas. “really? in the limo?” he looked over at his dad with big, excited eyes. "i’ve only ever been dropped off by daddy before, mama.”

toji mumbled something that sounded like, "don't tell your teachers i’m lazy," and rolled back over, pretending to go back to sleep.

"don’t worry," gojo said, waving it off. "cool uncle 1, cool uncle 2, and cool aunty got this."

megumi was practically vibrating with excitement as he tugged shoko’s hand. “can we leave now? pleeeaseeee?"

shoko raised an eyebrow at you and toji. “guess that’s a ‘no’ on you two getting up?”

toji waved them off, still face-planted in his pillow. “take him. we trust you… mostly.”

the limo looked ridiculous in front of the modest little school building.

every teacher on duty stared as gojo stepped out in yesterday’s clothes, still wearing his sunglasses, dramatically opening the door for megumi like he was some hollywood star.

geto leaned out of the window, waving. “our megumi, ladies and gents! future ceo, dragon whisperer, and… what is he into now? legos?”

“legos and iron man,” shoko supplied from the backseat, sipping her coffee and grinning like this was the most fun she’d had in weeks.

megumi hopped out, beaming, as if this was the normal way eight-year-olds arrived at school. "see ya later, cool uncles and aunty!" he called, and waved back at them as he headed up the steps.

one of the teachers, looking absolutely bewildered, approached gojo. "uh, sir? are you megumi’s… guardian?"

gojo held a hand over his heart, like he was moved. "oh, i’m his honorary uncle. the honored one. very honored. super honored. we’re just doing our part as responsible adults, you know?”

shoko snorted from the car. “yeah, responsible adults. let’s not tell his dad about the chocolate fountain incident from last night.”

“or the fact that geto’s gonna have to reupholster his couch,” geto muttered, barely holding back a laugh.

meanwhile, megumi turned back one last time and yelled, “tell mama and daddy i said bye!”

gojo saluted. “will do, young sir! now go conquer the day!”

they all watched him walk in, looking like a pint-sized executive in his little backpack. as soon as the doors closed behind him, shoko sighed. “alright, now who’s up for coffee? because i’m still running on fumes.”

"coffee?" geto asked, deadpan. "we’re gonna need a gallon of it if we’re keeping up with that kid."

as the limo pulled away, gojo turned to them with a grin. “you know, i think we make an excellent drop-off crew.”

“mmhm,” shoko said dryly, shaking her head. “i’m sure the teachers would totally agree.”

as the limo pulled away from the school, gojo, shoko, and geto leaned back in their seats, stretching out like they’d just wrapped up a grueling mission.

“alriiight,” gojo said, kicking his feet up, “where are we headed for breakfast, my esteemed colleagues in chaos?”

“anywhere that’s not serving chicken nuggets or juice boxes,” shoko muttered, eyes barely open behind her sunglasses. “and somewhere with unlimited coffee, because if i have to function at nine in the morning, i need caffeine by the gallon.”

geto chuckled, shaking his head. “how is it that we’re the ones going out for breakfast after crashing their wedding?” he looked at gojo, grinning. “and how are they the ones staying home?”

gojo smirked, crossing his legs. “we’re giving them the gift of peace and quiet. i bet toji’s loving the chance to stay in bed with his lovely wife, all cozy and uninterrupted.”

shoko snorted, leaning over with a conspiratorial grin. “give them fifteen minutes max before they realize we took the limo and left them stranded.”

“oh, toji’s probably still asleep,” geto said, waving her off. “and if not, he’s probably thinking we’re doing him a favor. don’t forget, we’re the ‘cool’ uncles and aunty. we’re just out here, uh…” he paused, raising a brow, “fulfilling our responsibilities.”

gojo cackled. “yeah, we’re absolutely winning the ‘best support system’ award this year.” he held up an imaginary award plaque. “and the winner for best, most responsible friends goes to… the limo crew!”

shoko took a sip of her coffee, laughing. “you’re just mad you didn’t get to be the one carrying y/n in her dress down the aisle yesterday.”

“hey!” gojo gasped, mock-offended. “i was ready, okay? i would’ve been the perfect escort. i even practiced the, you know —“ he mimed holding someone dramatically in his arms. “but no, she insisted on doing it herself.”

geto rolled his eyes, grinning. “it’s her wedding, satoru.”

“yeah, yeah, i know,” gojo said, waving it off. “but it was cute seeing him get all sentimental.” he put on a comically deep voice, imitating toji. “‘come on, baby, we’re gonna go build our life together,’” he said, making exaggerated romantic gestures. “like, okay, toji, way to set the bar high for the rest of us.”

shoko grinned, nudging geto. “hey, suguru, you taking notes? maybe one day you’ll be saying those sappy lines to your wife.”

geto laughed, blushing a bit. “hey, let’s keep the heat on toji, alright? no need to make me the topic of conversation here.”

gojo raised a hand dramatically. “oh, don’t worry, we’ll keep it on toji. like how he’s always acting like mr. tough guy, but the second y/n looks at him with those puppy eyes, he’s suddenly mr. marshmallow.”

“he’s such a marshmallow,” shoko agreed, laughing. “he’ll deny it till the end, but you know he’d do anything for her. i mean, the man threatened a chocolate fountain for her yesterday.”

“let’s not forget he almost punched the caterer over the dessert display,” geto added, grinning. “and that was after he demanded only the best for the ‘mother of his child.’”

gojo clasped his hands together, putting on a dreamy look. “ugh, true love. what an inspiration.”

they all shared a laugh, shaking their heads at the image of toji as the world’s biggest softie for you, his new bride. the limo pulled up to a cute little cafe, and gojo leaned out of the window, calling, “table for the three most responsible adults in town, please!”

as they piled out, geto chuckled. “we are absolutely going to milk this ‘responsible adult’ title all morning.”

“oh, absolutely,” shoko said, walking in. “and i’ll need a bottomless coffee just to keep it going.”

they slid into a booth, ordering way too much coffee and breakfast, ready to dig into a morning full of laughter, snarky jokes, and ridiculous stories.

“to toji and y/n,” gojo toasted, holding up his coffee mug. “may they never know the horrors we’ve saved them from.”

“cheers to that,” shoko said, grinning.

tag: @elysian-chaos @lemonlimecrystal-blog @crunchyholo @cheesecakebroom @inthedarkshadows000 @amayaaaxx @sweetsformysoul @vitoshi @qyuin @mypashionisforfashion @crocodilethesir @starmapz @kyokoyya @lauuriiiz @ciexuvia @blubearxy @coffee-and-geto @lveegsoi @yuminako @cipher-needs-2-sleep

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ghostfacd · 1 year ago

Text

SASSY MEN DO IT BETTER! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which yours and tom’s behind the scenes gossip session goes viral and everyone’s dying to know who’s it about

AUTHOR’S NOTE. thank you to whomever requested this, nonnie i love you! this was so much fun to write and instead of Instagram posts, I decided to do tweets this time! enjoy as always and thank you for the overwhelming support on my au, it means so so much

installment of this au (recommend reading for context)

It started off innocent.

Just you and Tom in the background of a Behind The Scenes video where Rachel was currently talking about her character, Lucy Gray Baird.

You and Tom were fairly close in proximity—as you always were anyway—and you two were scrolling through your phones, showing each other funny videos or pictures of beautiful places that showed up on your feed.

That was until a message popped up from your ex, some jerk who had somehow gained a role in a movie and thought he was now some hotshot in the film industry.

“Oh seriously,” Tom mutters, watching as you tapped on the messages your ex had sent you. “He’s got to be kidding.”

Your ex had apparently “missed you greatly” and wanted to hang out so you two could catch up. He said he watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and was in awe of how well you acted. If he wasn’t such a toxic asshole when you two were dating, you would take it as a compliment.

“I don’t know where he has the nerve.” Tom says, giving you a disgusted look. “Like girl, please.”

“Girl please?” You say, giggling as your head fell back into his chest. “Baby, I didn’t know you said things like that.”

“There’s plenty of more where that came from,” he says, “Okay, I need to stop. What if someone on set thinks I’m crazy?”

“They already think you’re crazy.”

Tom rolls his eyes, shoving your shoulder back slightly. “You’re lucky you’re my girlfriend.”

“I think you’re more of the girlfriend in the relationship Tom,” you say, shrugging. You fail to hold in your laugh as you watch Tom’s expression turn into shock. “I’m kidding, thank you for being the best boyfriend I can ask for.”

He grumbles a sure whatever under his breath when you engulf him in a tight hug.

“You’re practically crushing my lungs.” He says a minute in, only to be responded with a roll of your eye. “But hey, I’m much better than that newbie actor ex of yours, right?”

“Is that even a question?” You say, pulling away. “He was just nonchalant and mean to me half of the time. Don’t know why I even dated him.”

Your phone goes off, another message coming from your ex. “Oh, he called you knock off Draco Malfoy, which by the way, isn’t even an insult because he doesn’t even come close to you or Draco Malfoy in terms of looks.”

Tom lets out an honest to God laugh at your commentary, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, but didn’t you have a huge crush on Malfoy as a kid?”

You pretend to think for a minute before nodding your head teasingly, “yeah, I guess things never change huh?”

“Okay stop, you know I’m a fake blonde.”

And the entire moment between you and Tom is captured on camera, sending your fans into a frenzy as they watched how cute you two were with each other.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games

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writtenwhalien · 6 months ago

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jump then fall (into you) | part 1

banner by the talented @jimilter 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut

word count ↠ 52k (split into 3 parts | pt 1. 24k)

18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., nipple play, protected sex etc.

summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. i'm backkkkk...?! with a disclaimer too:

I’ve been writing this on and off for pretty much two years so 1. it's not proofread bc i have not got the attention span to do that for 50k+ and I never got to read over what I previously wrote before working on it again so it might be a bit mismatched…? 2. I can’t say I’m hugely happy with this fic because it wasn’t a continuous workflow, it just doesn’t match the standards I have for myself but i tried and I’ll do better for the next ones which I’m excited about ;)

please interact and tell me how you find it! <3 it's been forever and i've missed you all 🥺

due to tumblr text post limitations, I’ve had to publish in three parts — links for part 2 + 3 can be found at the end.

↠ a part of the seven seas collab hosted by the wonderful yannie @ressjeon 🌊🥰 two years late but I made it :’)

part 1

“Gosh, Y/N, it’s a three week trip, you’re not going for a year!”

The frustration in Jungkook’s voice has you whipping around, a pair of Valentino’s in one hand, Manolo’s in the other. “It’s Alex’s wedding cruise, Jungkook. Everyone and their parents are going to be there, mine included!”

“Not mine!” he huffs, putting the last of your swimsuits into the suitcase open in front of him. You don’t blame him for being so frustrated, after all, he has been folding your clothes for the last hour while his single suitcase sits ready to go downstairs in the foyer.

“Actually in case you’ve forgotten,” you start, stepping carefully through the piles of clothes in your massive closet to go towards him, “my mom has fed and even bathed you once after that time you wet yourself, so technically she’s as good as yours too.”

“That was one time, and I barely even remember it so it doesn’t count.”

“I do,” you smile, coming to stop in front of him.

He sighs, looking down at the stilettos you’re holding. “We’ve been packing for hours already, you should’ve done this nights ago if it was gonna take this long.”

Now it’s you who’s sighing. “It’s been an hour not hours, besides we’re almost done now.”

Jungkook arches his brow, folding his arms in front of him. “Then what’re all your clothes doing on the floor?”

“They just need to go in one of the suitcases,” you smile. “See, we’re almost done.”

Unconvinced, Jungkook looks around at the mess but eventually nods. “Fine, but you can finish yourself, I’m going to eat—“

“No, wait, you can’t leave me!” you exclaim, reaching for Jungkook as your eyes go wide as a doe.

Telltale traces of a smile on Jungkook’s features let you know he was expecting this. He looks down at you, a loose curl hanging over his forehead. There was once a time when you were the taller one, but that only lasted a few years before Jungkook got in a good few inches between you.

Both of you were just turning six when you first met although it always felt like Jungkook was a little younger to you in the first few years of your friendship, probably because of his naturally introverted nature which he more often steps out of when he feels comfortable to do so. But back then, he was just a wide eyed six year old who hid behind his mother as she came to work on her first day at the estate you call home.

Knowing Jungkook was the same age as you and from a single parent household, your mom suggested that he could stay with you instead of his mom needing to hire someone to look after him while she worked. That was probably one of the best things that ever happened to the both of you. Jungkook became a better friend to you than many of those at your private school full of elementary school kids who wished they were ten years older than they were, and as the years went on there was nothing you didn’t do together.

Naturally, your family got to know Jungkook well and being the little smartass he’s always been, Jungkook impressed your father so much that he helped him to apply for a scholarship position as you moved into high school. Of course Jungkook got in, and though it was only a partial scholarship, your father insisted on paying the rest of his fees which his mother found hard to accept but Jungkook promised your father to pay him back in the future. Fast forward a little more than a decade and Jungkook has paid back all of the fees thanks to being CEO of an affluent software company developed from his love of gaming.

He struggles to fight his smile and you can see he’s contemplating going down or not, having to choose between food or you. “What do you even need me for?” he asks, taking the smallest step closer, so small you don’t even notice.

“Fashion advice?” you shrug, keeping an iron-like grip on his arms.

He narrows his eyes. “You told me my fashion style is shit.”

“Was,” you correct, sliding your hands up his arms and down his chest with a satisfied smile. “Now is different though, I’ve rubbed off on you.” You glance down at his figure too, checking out his outfit.

Jungkook chuckles as he follows your gaze. “Why would you need my help when you have yourself then, hm?”

Pouting at him, your arms slip around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. “You’re Mr Muscle, who else is gonna help me carry all this stuff?”

He pouts back sarcastically. “Is princess gonna break a heel if she carries her own suitcase?”

As you shrug, your brows remain furrowed. “Maybe, or a nail,” you say, letting one hand off his waist to show off a fresh manicure. As you wiggle your fingers ahead of him, he breaks into a smile.

“You know you have a bunch of dudes in suits downstairs, just waiting to help you with this stuff. I’m pretty sure it’s their job.”

“Yes, but they don’t give me fashion advice like you do,” you respond with a cheeky wink.

Jungkook takes the heels you’re holding off of you. “Here’s some advice — pack light.” He throws the heels behind him somewhere in your closet, earning a frown from you as your eyes follow where they land in the middle of your blown out closet.

“Fine,” you sigh, looking back up at him. “I’ll lose the heels if you promise you’ll stay with me now.”

As a small smile grows on his lips, Jungkook’s arms find their way around your waist too. “Only if you promise you’ll make me a sandwich before we go?” His smile grows knowingly as he gives in to your charm — you’ve always found it’s easy to encourage Jungkook to go along with whatever you want, he just can’t seem to say no to you.

“PB and J?” you ask with a smile that matches his.

He nods once, eyes shimmering as he still gazes at you.

“Of all the foods you could ask for, it’s always PB and J,” you laugh.

He shrugs, letting go as you move to finish packing. “There’s nothing else I want.”

Arching a brow, you throw a few pairs of linen pants towards one of the suitcases in your closet. “We literally have a live-in chef, you know, Frederico, the guy you have a secret handshake with?”

“Yes, what of him?” Jungkook says huffing.

“And you still want PB and J when he can make you anything?”

Jungkook steps towards your suitcase and picks up a pair of pants to roll. “I know that, but I just need some food in me and quick, so the simple option is best.”

Stepping forward, you take the pants off of him and roll them yourself. “If you would be patient enough to wait a few more minutes then you could have a sandwich that’ll fill you up for longer than half an hour.”

“And if you didn’t have more clothes than half the country combined then we would probably already be on our way to the airport,” Jungkook responds sassily, cocking his head.

“Don’t get smart with me or I won’t make your sandwich,” you sass back.

“I’ll just ask Freddie to make it for me and you don’t get Mr Muscle.”

Grumbling, you shove the rolled pants back into his hands as he laughs, taking them to place in one of the open suitcases. Not long after, all of your suitcases are packed and in the car, ready to go.

The drive to the airport takes a little under an hour and upon arriving, the car takes you straight to the jet. Apparently you did take a little too long packing as your mom so pointedly lets you know after arriving, but luckily for you there’s a few others missing from the families you’re taking the jet with. With time to kill, Jungkook and you have a few idle chats with the others, most of whom you went to school with so the conversation comes easily but eventually you settle into the seats opposite your parents.

“How was your drive here, darling?” your mom asks while closing her bag after a little skin TLC.

“It was fine,” you answer, pulling out your own bag full of the skincare you deemed necessary to carry for the plane trip.

“And how did you find it, Jungkook?”

Jungkook shrugs. “It was good.”

“Lovely,” she smiles. “It’s going to be a wonderful trip.”

From beside her, your dad sighs, putting away his tablet. “Do we know how long the flight is to Marbella?”

“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns disapprovingly. “Don’t be such a grumpy lump before we’re even in the air.”

Jokingly, your father looks at Jungkook and you, and then gives your mom a side eye. “I just had a few important meetings that Chris accidentally scheduled for today so I’m wondering if I could still make them online.”

Dismissively, your mom waves her hand. “No work talk, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“Alright, you’re right,” your dad concedes. “Maybe to start we could get a few drinks then, eh?” He raises his brow at Jungkook who approves with a big smile and both of them flag down a flight attendant.

Once there’s a drink in everyone’s hand, your parents settle into conversation with Jungkook and you.

“So are you excited to see Alex, Y/N?” your father asks.

“Absolutely,” you smile. “Though I think I’m more excited to see Sophia and Alias, it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to spend time with them.”

“Oh, Jungkook, you must be excited to see Sophia too,” your mom says with a bit of a cheeky smile.

Jungkook chuckles nervously, glancing at you though you’re sporting the same smile as your mother. “I mean, yeah, we’re good friends.”

“Well if you weren’t, things would be pretty awkward,” your dad laughs before helping himself to some food he ordered with the drinks.

“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, managing a small laugh.

“Oh come on, guys,” you laugh, nudging him. “She’s happy you’re coming too.”

He nods appreciatively before taking a sip of his drink. “It’s her parents I’m more worried about.”

At this, your mom laughs too. “Oh, Leon and Helena love you really, dear, it’s all just for a laugh.” She leans forwards and squeezes his hand with her usual tender smile. “Though if it really bothers you, we could have a word with them, without letting on it’s coming from you of course.”

Smiling, Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you but it’s alright, I can take the daggers I get from them,” he chuckles. “After all, what I did was pretty awful.”

“You were sixteen,” you say, patting on the last of your moisturiser.

He shrugs. “I know, but she’s their little princess.” He looks across at you and then glances at your parents. “It’s like someone doing that to you, your parents would be mad.”

At that, your father hums in agreement.

“Heck, I’d be mad,” Jungkook adds.

Looking at him, he shrugs again and smiles. Before you can say anything, he carries on. “Sixteen or not, I literally left Sophia on one of the most important nights of her life.”

“Yeah, it was pretty awful at the time,” you sigh, remembering the night as clear as day.

Almost ten years ago now, the night of both yours and Sophia’s entry into society, the debutante ball. For you, the night was a bit of a blur with it being the first night Alex and you made things official in your relationship, sealing it with a first kiss and many more that evening. It was a magical and whimsical night, and although Alex and you didn’t last, your love for each other still remains as best friends and you couldn’t be happier for him getting married to his dream girl now.

For Sophia, the night went a little differently... She'd had a crush on Jungkook for a while since, being Alex’s younger sister, she’d seen him often with you. After he found out, he asked her to be her escort to the ball. She of course said yes and everything seemed to be going perfectly until the moment Jungkook was supposed to escort her down the stairs but he had completely disappeared. Sophia was left all alone and completely embarrassed, even after Alias, the ever caring older brother, stepped in and acted as her escort. Jungkook still hasn’t told you the reason he left so abruptly that night. All you remember is not being able to reach him the whole weekend, even when you tried going to his house he was never home. When you finally saw him, he told you he didn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t.

Of course, everyone else forgot about the incident and even Sophia forgave him after he apologised profusely and endlessly, but Mr and Mrs Cirillo were less forgiving for a while, but after many years it’s just become a joke between them. The fact that he’s invited on the cruise just shows it’s all in the past now.

However that doesn’t mean Mr and Mrs Cirillo ever pass up an opportunity to remind him of the past…

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N, dear,” Mrs Cirillo says, bringing you in for a hug.

Mr Cirillo stands behind her, taking your hand as soon as his wife lets go. “How was the flight here?”

“It was good, I slept for most of it really.” Stepping away, you turn to look at Jungkook as he approaches them with a meek smile.

Mrs Cirillo smiles back, her words carrying a playful lilt. “There he is, the heartbreaker.”

Jungkook lowers his head at that and you can see his nose scrunching a little. “That’s me, unfortunately,” he says, stepping into Mrs Cirillo’s arms for a brief hug.

When he takes Mr Cirillo’s hand to shake, the older man shows the same playfulness as his wife. “Nice to see you again, Jungkook. My favourite and least favourite man on board.”

Jungkook chuckles and Mr Cirillo pulls him in for a hug. “Stay out of trouble, yes?”

“Of course,” Jungkook smiles, stepping away to stand next to you as your parents walk out onto the main deck.

Their eyes light up as the old friends all greet each other and you take Jungkook’s hand and slip away together before you get roped into a conversation.

“You alright?” you ask casually as you scan the people all on the deck.

“Good, thanks,” he responds with a gentle squeeze of your hand. He knows that you know how he finds it a little tedious sometimes every time Sophia’s parents mention the past, but he knows he messed up so he doesn’t ever complain about it. In a way, it annoys you when the Cirillo’s always mention it but you know it’s not your place to say anything, especially if Jungkook hasn’t said anything.

Looking around, you take in many of the familiar faces while scanning the crowds for Alex or one of his siblings. There’s no unfamiliar faces on this part of the deck, and seeing all the waiters walking around offering canapés and drinks, you realise the Cirillo’s must’ve rented out this part of the deck. The excited buzz amongst everyone extends to you as you turn to look out past the balcony towards the sea, stepping towards it and taking Jungkook with you.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea, enjoying the warmth glowing from the sun as a steady breeze blows. Exhaling, you turn around to Jungkook beaming.

It seems like he was already watching you, waiting as though he knows you’re gonna say something now. Seeing you smile, his corner of his lips turn too. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Very,” you nod, turning around to look out again, lowering the sunglasses from your head to stop from squinting.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls your name and you turn around, breaking into the biggest smile when you see Alex approaching, his arms outstretched. “Jungkook!”

You meet him halfway, excitedly skipping into his hug. He hugs you tight, releasing a sigh as he lets go and hugs Jungkook. “Gosh, it’s been so bloody long, I’ve missed you guys.”

“Missed you more, buddy,” Jungkook smiles, patting Alex’s back before he lets go. “Congrats on the wedding too, we’re well excited to be here for you.”

Alex laughs, flashing his perfect pearly smile. “Honestly, I’m happier to have you guys here. Half of the people here haven’t even spoken to me in years.” He glances around before adding, “you know how it is.”

“Mhm,” you nod, squeezing his arm. “You’ve got us though, we’re here for you every step of the way.”

“Thanks,” he responds, taking two drinks from a passing waiter to give to you both. “You were allowed plus ones though, when do I get to meet them?” He looks across at both of you expectantly, though you see a subtle raise of his brow matched with a small smile that seems to hint he already knows the answer.

“Well, we didn’t really get the chance to ask anyone,” Jungkook answers, looking sideways at you. “So we just thought we’d come with each other.”

“Ah.” The smile on Alex’s lips grows. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know how busy we’ve both been,” you say, shrugging lightly before taking a long sip of your drink.

“Hm, that’s it,” Alex says quietly.

“BOO!” Large hands tap your shoulders before the man himself jumps in front of you.

“Alias,” you squeal excitedly, returning the hug he’s already given you. Slightly more wild albeit still as focused as his younger brother, Alias is the eldest of the Cirillo siblings and has become more of an older brother to you over the years.

“You look like you’ve grown,” he says, moving back and beaming as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug. “Both of you.”

“We literally saw you like a month ago,” Jungkook chuckles.

“Really?” Alias raises his brows in surprise. “Damn, you kids grow fast.”

“I could say the same thing about that moustache of yours,” you say.

He smiles smugly. “Looks good right?”

Shrugging, you lean against the balcony. “I think you looked better without it.”

Alias frowns, hand coming up to stroke his moustache subconsciously. “Really?” he asks, looking at you in time to see you raising your glass to your lips to hide your smile.

“I knew you liked it,” he laughs. “Apparently a lot of people do.”

“Ah, Alias, no one wants to know,” Alex grimaces at his older brother.

Before Alias can defend himself, Jungkook says, “I do.” Alex and you both look at him and he shrugs. “Might grow mine out.”

Alias laughs, throwing his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “C’mon buddy, I’ll tell you all about it.”

As Alias pulls him away, Alex steps to stand next to you and both of you watch them walk away with Alias talking in a hushed tone as though no one else can find out.

As you watch them walk away with a fond smile on your face, Alex turns to you. “So, how have you been?”

Still absentmindedly watching Jungkook and Alias, you hum. “Great.”

“How’s work?”

“Mm, I actually just secured a deal with Park Motors last week.”

Glancing at Alex, you see his brows raise. “Impressive.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty big win for the company and dad was proud of me.”

Alex smiles. “And were you proud of yourself?”

As Jungkook’s head disappears from the crowd, you turn to face Alex too, taking another sip of your drink. “I know people think I’m just riding off my parent’s success, which yeah, it’s true for the most part, but after doing this all myself I was pretty proud.”

“Good,” he grins. “You should be. You may be one of the most princess-ed girls I know,” he adds with a teasing lilt, “but you’re also one of the most hard working.”

Laughing, you nudge him lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” He leans against the balcony too, pulling down his shades as he turns towards the sea where the sun shines down on the horizon. “What about things with Jungkook?”

Shrugging, you take a small sip. “He’s good.”

Alex glances at you from the corner of his eye with the curve of his lips growing. “Hm, anything else?”

Levelling his face, you break into a smile. “Oh, Alex, you’re never gonna let this go are you?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Not as long as I see it’s there.”

Straightening your expression a little, you tilt your head. “But there’s nothing there.”

“Y/N, there’s everything there,” he says, matching your tone.

“Alex, come on,” you say quietly, traces of a smile returning.

He shrugs. “I make a perfectly valid point.”

Turning towards the deck again, you sigh. “I don’t see it.”

“I do!” Alex almost exclaims excitedly. “And I have for the longest time.” Letting out a small laugh, he puts his arm around you and squeezes gently. “His big doe eyes used to torture me all the time when I was dating you.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook does have doe eyes but you don’t remember seeing them often while dating Alex.

“Seriously,” Alex says, fighting his case onwards. “I dated you for what, almost a year I think and I’ve never seen anyone sulk for that long.”

“He wasn’t sulking.”

“Listen, I’m almost a married man now, Y/N, and I can tell you all the looks of love…”

When you arch a brow quizzically, Alex sighs and continues. “That boy was sulking for weeks because he hated seeing you with someone else.”

“Oh come on, maybe he had a crush in the past but he’s a grown man now and has had plenty of his own romances.”

Now it’s Alex who’s looking at you with his brow raised. “Like who?”

It takes you a moment to think of a name but a few still come to mind. “Remember Alia, the intern from my dad's company?” you ask rather smugly, although Alex’s reaction shows no surprise.

“The girl who he went out with like five times.”

You shrug. “That counts for something.

“It really doesn’t,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, who else?”

“Hmmm… ooh, Rachel, that super hot secretary!”

“Y/N, that was a one night stand, it literally doesn’t count.”

Sighing, you rack your memory for more, and then comes the answer. “Valentina.”

Alex almost snorts, prompting you to frown at him.

“What?” you question. “That was a real romance, there were feelings there.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex almost snorts again. “The most real thing about that relationship was the Chopard watch Valentina tried to use to bribe Jungkook back to her.”

Wincing, you remember the finer details of that supposedly real romance. You turn back out to face the horizon, pulling your own shades down. “Alright, I guess I see your point.”

Gently pushing his point, Alex carries on. “Not to mention that I was your last serious relationship, which was how many years ago now?”

You simply shrug. “I’m not looking for anyone.”

Alex hums thoughtfully. “Or you’ve already ‘found’ your someone.” This earns a glare from you but Alex ignores this. “He’s practically your boyfriend already!”

“In what way?!”

“You do almost everything together!” Alex exclaims back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had sex already!”

“Alex!” Something in your stomach curls unbidden at the thought. “We haven’t had sex!” you whisper hotly, glancing around to make sure no one heard.

“Sorry,” Alex mumbles, looking over his shoulder too. Luckily there’s no one nearby, everyone seems too busy engaging in their own excited conversations about the weeks to come.

Everything you’re hearing now isn’t news to you, you know plenty of people have questioned the relationship between Jungkook and you, and you totally get why, but you’ve been friends since such a young age and that’s perfectly okay. Neither you nor Jungkook have made a move to take things further and maybe that’s just how things are meant to stay, despite what Alex seems to think.

“Also, what friend agrees to come on a 3 week long cruise for you, knowing full well my father doesn’t miss a single opportunity to roast him.”

“Here’s here for you, not me.”

“Actually,” Alex raises a finger, “I invited him before you and he said he would meet us in Italy because things were busy with the company. I invited you after him, and the next thing I know is Jungkook is calling me telling me he’ll be coming with you from the start.”

As your eyes narrow, you start to think of how that happened. After Alex invited you, you texted Jungkook straight away to ask if he’d come with you as a date to the wedding. As soon as he said yes, you started waffling on about how fun the trip was going to be and it must’ve been after that that Jungkook told Alex he’d come sooner than he previously planned.

“Well, any best friend would do that,” you say simply.

Alex pushes his lips out, brows raised. “I’m your best friend and I wouldn’t do that for you.”

“Hey!” You shove him hard but he barely moves.

“Oh c’mon, you wouldn’t do it for me either.” Alex looks at you with a smile.

“Yeah,” you relent. “I probably wouldn’t unless you really needed me.”

Just then, you see Jungkook walking towards you, holding a platter of something. He simply beams when you frown at him in confusion.

From beside you, Alex raises his glass to his lips. “I’m telling you, the boy is whipped,” he says quietly before taking a sip.

Jungkook comes within ears width before you can say anything. “Y/N, look,” he holds out the tray he’s holding, “they have those little cracker things you like with capa, uh, capa-something.” He pushes it closer, gesturing for you to take one while looking pleased with himself.

Looking at the platter, your lips curl mindlessly into a smile. “Caponata,” you say, correcting him gently.

It’s when Jungkook remembers the little things like this that his place in your heart grows and you’re grateful for having him as your best friend.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he smiles. “Here, I got them for you.”

Your brows furrow together as you look down. “The whole platter?”

“Well, yeah,” he says looking down too. “You like them and I’m sure there’s more going around for everyone else.”

From beside you, Alex starts coughing and you’re more than certain you hear the word “whipped” coming out of his mouth. One glance at him proves you’re right as he raises his brows before looking away.

Jungkook, not having noticed the word Alex let slip, is eating one of the canapés before holding one out for you too. Smiling and thanking him, you take it.

“Good right?” Jungkook asks, his mouth full as you also eat one whole.

“So good,” you mumble, brows furrowed as you keep eating.

Jungkook holds the tray towards Alex. “Want one?”

“I’m good,” he smiles. “I’ll leave you two to it though, I’ve still got some guests I need to greet.” His smile seems weary though you don’t blame him, sometimes the supposed family friends in your circle don’t seem very much like friends. After saying a temporary goodbye, he takes his leave, leaving Jungkook and you to continue devouring the canapés.

For a moment, you’re both quiet, save the sounds of pleasure from eating, then Jungkook speaks. “Sophia’s not coming with us by the way.”

Eyes wide, you turn to look at him. “What?!” you question, mouth half full.

Jungkook takes one glance at you and chuckles. His thumb comes up and wipes something close to your lips. “She’s joining us later, from Nice.”

“Oh.” Your lips turn into a pout. “Who am I gonna hang out with?”

“You-bo-me,” Jungkook says with his mouthful again.

“No,” you sigh. “I don’t got you. As soon as Alias is about, you and him turn into Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

A small laugh escapes Jungkook's lips and you frown at him.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs again, placing the mostly empty tray down on a nearby table. “Look,” he takes your hands and squeezes them, “I promise I’ll stay with you, we can just hang out with Alias too.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say looking up at him. “It’s fine though, you can hang out with whoever you want. You don’t have to stay with me.”

Jungkook hides an amused smile. “I’ll stay with you, we can’t have our princess being alone,” he chuckles again, letting go of your hands to squeeze your cheeks.

“Mm, my makeup,” you mumble, prying his fingers off your cheeks. “And you can stay with me if you really want to,” you shrug, hiding your smug expression.

Jungkook scoffs, laughing as you put your sunglasses back on. “I changed my mind.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, and before you get another word out, Jungkook is laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in.

“I’m joking, now let’s go say hi to the Morgan’s, they’ve been looking this way since Alex was here.”

“They’re probably just judging us,” you grumble.

Jungkook smiles, turning you around and walking with you. “More reason to say hello.”

Most of the first day is spent the same way, greeting some families who you like and some who you don’t but at least you get to do it with a glass of champagne and Jungkook by your side. By the early evening, everyone is settling into their cabins and exploring the cruise ship which feels more like a palace.

It’s well past midnight when Jungkook is walking you to your cabin which unfortunately is on another level to yours – Alex mentioned he couldn’t get your cabins closer since Jungkook was supposed to be joining later.

“I am so ready to knockout,” you yawn, pulling out the keycard.

“Make sure you don’t forget to take your makeup off,” Jungkook says as a gentle reminder.

Turning around at the threshold of your door, you look at him as he leans against the wall opposite. “I won’t, and you don’t forget to shower, you still stink of chlorine.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly, careful not to disturb any of the neighbouring cabins who are most likely asleep. Alias and him decided it would be fun to cannonball into the deck pool during prohibited hours and subsequently ended up running away from some of the cruise crew and you just happened to be with them even though you refused to jump in because it’s breaking the rules.

“I’m making you join us next time,” he says.

“That’s never gonna happen.”

Smiling slightly, Jungkook tilts his head. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Laughing, you step out of your room towards him. “I wouldn’t try, Jeon.” Raising your hand, you pinch his nose. “You’ll just fail.”

“Or,” Jungkook raises his brows, taking your hand into his, “it could be one of the best nights you spend here, plus running away is fun,” he grins.

“You call that fun?” you laugh.

“Tell me it wasn't.”

You shrug. “I have fun whenever I'm with you anyway.”

Jungkook smiles, and so do you. It’s not hard to be honest around him, it never has been. That’s probably why you’ve been best friends for so long. “So all the time?” he says.

“All the time,” you repeat, laughing.

Lips still holding a gentle smile, Jungkook looks down at you and for a second you wait for him to say something but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he releases a small sigh and pulls you into a hug.

You feel your body relax in his embrace, the weariness of today’s jet lag and socialising and cheeky antics slowly melting away as you breathe in the comforting smell of his cologne. Even though it’s tainted with chlorine, his arms around you seem to make it worth putting up with.

His hands slide up your back, patting you softly. “I’ll see you in the morning, hm.”

“Just don’t wake me up before noon,” you mumble.

He laughs, pulling away. “Breakfast ends at 11.”

Groaning, you step towards your door again. “I wish Freddie was with us.”

Chuckling quietly, he starts to make his way towards his cabin. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night,” you wave, seeing him disappear from view as the door closes. You almost collapse onto your bed but manage to trudge to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and get into your pyjamas before finally sinking into bed and falling asleep.

Knock knock knock

Knock knock.

“Y/N?"

Knock knock knock. “Y/N!”

Grumbling, you pull your pillow over your head.

There’s a few more impatient knocks before you hear Jungkook. “Come on, or I’m going down without you.”

“Go,” you groan, tossing in bed. “I’ll eat later.”

Then you hear a series of whining outside the door. “It's already almost 11, it's embarrassing going by myself you have to come with me, please.”

With one final groan, you force yourself out of bed and open the door. “I said not before noon, Koo.”

“Please,” he says, lips forming an effortless pout. “I’m hungry.”

Well you can’t say no now. Sighing, you step aside for him to come in. “Give me twenty minutes.”

Jungkook slumps onto your bed, already dressed casually in a white tee and black shorts. “You have ten.”

With Jungkook rushing you, you meet halfway and manage to get ready in 15 minutes instead. It seems the Cirillo’s spared no expense and managed to keep an entire upper deck private for all of the meals served on sea days. There’s a breakfast buffet laid out inside but before you can even grab yourself a plate, you see your mom frowning at you from her seat outside. She raises her brows and points to her wrist, her not so subtle way of reminding you you’re late.

With a big smile, you mouth sorry and she just laughs to herself, shaking her head.

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls your name. You look over at him and he’s already standing behind a few people up for seconds, waiting his turn. Walking over, you take a plate and glance down at the table ahead of you.

“This looks good,” you think out loud.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Jungkook says, glancing around. He frowns at something, moving his head to get a better look.

“What? What’s wro–?”

His eyes widen and suddenly he’s crouching enough to remove the inches difference between you, hands gripping your arms. “Hide me.”

“What?”

“Hide me,” he repeats, the insistence in his voice clearer than before.

Putting your plate down, you push his shoulders lower. “I am,” you whisper harshly. “But why?” you say, glancing around.

“No, don’t look,” Jungkook says, his tone becoming something like a whine. “She’ll come over if she sees you.”

“Who?”

Jungkook groans, eyes closing. “Why is she here?”

Ignoring his request not to look, you turn around and scan the room, looking for any familiar faces while your mind goes through a mental list of names of people who could make Jungkook want to hide before a whole breakfast buffet. Just as your name arrives at a potential suspect, the woman herself comes into your view.

“Oh.”

Tall, glamorous and even graceful, Valentina Forero struts her preppy, perfect figure, dressed head to toe in designer and a handbag so small you’re sure not even her phone can fit in there.

Immediately, you look away from her and down at Jungkook. He’s already looking up at you with a weary expression. Your lips form an apologetic smile and he sighs, a string of curse words coming out from his mouth in the form of a hushed whisper while he stays pressed against your side trying to hide himself from view.

Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this has to be the single worst thing.

Valentina is Jungkook’s ex friend with benefits of almost a year. They met shortly after college at your grad party and they started off as casual and eventually there were some feelings involved but they never really bloomed.

When Jungkook tried to end things after some months, Valentina had a lot to say and for some reason just didn’t want to let him go even though she wasn’t looking for something real.

You don’t blame her, Jungkook attracts people like a magnet, but their relationship was a little more on the toxic side with some jealousy and so many stupid arguments no doubt stemming from the feelings that budded but never grew. It was better for both of them to call it quits, so they never made things official but to call Valentina anything less than an ex would be an injustice to some of the things they went through.

Stealing a glance at her again, you watch for a few seconds as she makes her way through the families, greeting each one with a bright smile.

As she moves, Jungkook moves too, trying to stay hidden from her view behind you. His head presses against your arm, cheek almost against your left boob.

“Um, Jungkook,” you say, smiling. “I get you’re trying to hide but uh, I don’t think this is a good look…”

“What?” he says, still distracted as he glances towards where Valentina is.

“We’re standing at a breakfast bar on a family cruise and your face is pretty close to my boobs.”

He looks up at you, eyes widening when he realises. “Oh, sorry.” He stands straight, turning to face the bar instead.

“It’s cool,” you answer, picking up your plate again and nudging him to move forward. “”I’m sure we’ve given the Collins something to talk about for today.” Turning to your right at the eyes ogling you, you smile plastically at Mr and Mrs Collins.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters again absentmindedly as he slowly fills his plate.

“Jungkook,” you say, nudging him again as you fill your own. “It’s gonna be fine, there’s so many people here I’m sure you won’t see each other that much, and even if you do, you have me.” You’re already beaming when he looks at you, and his own eyes crease in the corners and he smiles too. “Thanks. I guess you’re right but please don’t ever let me be alone with her.”

“I won’t,” you laugh. “Although once she knows you’re here, I’m sure she’ll try to hookup with you at least once.”

“I hope not,” Jungkook sighs. “She’s not a bad girl but I just don’t wanna go back there, y’know?”

“Mhm, I know,” you say, turning towards the table your parents are seated at. “But what I don’t know is how we’re gonna get to sit without her seeing you.” You nod in the direction of your parents.

Jungkook glances around. “Let’s go sit with Alex and Thalia,” he says, nodding in the opposite direction.

Stealthily, the two of you make your way out onto the deck and approach Alex and his fiancee unseen.

“Oh, Y/N,” Thalia beams, leaning in for a hug as soon as she sees you. “You look beautiful.”

You snort. “I woke up half an hour ago, I definitely look awful.”

“Absolutely not,’ Thalia says with a gracious wave of her hand before Jungkook gets up to greet her too. “You both look lovely and I'm so happy you’re here!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling at both her and Alex. “We’re even happier to be here and so excited for you.”

“Thank you, angel,” she winks.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Alex asks quietly, frowning as he watches Jungkook carefully. Glancing to your right, you also notice Jungkook is hunched over his food.

“You’re just drawing more attention to yourself like that,” you let him know before turning back to Alex. “Valentina is here,” you say with a small raise of your brow and both Alex and Thalia immediately let out a little “ah”.

Thalia winces apologetically when she glances back at Jungkook. “I do believe that may be on me. My mother is in the same club as her mother so it seems an invitation was deemed non-negotiable, unfortunately,” she adds, placing subtle emphasis on the last word.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, I was gonna end up seeing her again eventually at some point.”

Alex coughs, his expression changing. “I do believe that time is coming sooner than you want though.”

Jungkook frowns but you understand what Alex means, as does Thalia as you both look up just in time to see Valentina a few feet away, approaching your table.

With a smile that’s far too innocent for her, she stands at the edge of the table closest to Jungkook. “Well, hello there.”

Alex, being the sweetheart he is, is the first to respond to her greeting, and without surprise, Thalia follows quickly. “Thank you for coming,” Alex says as he gives her a quick hug.

“Thank you for having me.” Valentina steps to the side to greet Thalia too. “And congratulations, I’m so happy for both of you!”

“Thank you,” Thalia says with a genuine smile. As she takes her seat, you get up to greet her too.

“It’s nice to see you again, Val,” you say as you meet her in a brief hug, although you can’t say you mean it but you hold no animosity towards her.

“You too, Y/N,” she winks.

Before she even releases you, Jungkook is getting up and already avoiding eye contact with her. “Hey,” he says, just as she leans towards him too.

“Hello, Jungkook.” When she gives him a hug, it’s a little longer than your own but Jungkook doesn’t push away despite his expression looking like he wants to.

Alex, Thalia and you have to fight to keep your smiles contained.

“Gosh, it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Valentina says as she steps back and takes a seat.

“I guess,” Jungkook says, showing little expression as he sits back down and resumes eating his breakfast.

“Oh, come on, it’s been almost two years.” She gives him a knowing expression before flicking her hair behind her shoulder with a flamboyant flair that’s signature for Valentina. “I’m sure you missed me.” She leans her elbows on the table. “I know I’ve missed you.”

Seeing Jungkook’s constipated expression, you step in to help him out. “We all missed you, Valentina,” you smile. “It’s impossible not to.” That’s not a lie either, although she was a big personality to deal with sometimes, she still knew how to have fun and was great to talk to.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, returning your smile before turning her attention back to Jungkook. “You still look as good as you always have too, Kookie.” She leans forward and squeezes his bicep, maybe one too many times. “You’re still going to the gym I see.”

Jungkook stiffens next to you, meanwhile, your eyes are fixated on her hand on his arm. In a gesture of support, you discreetly slip your hand behind his elbow.

Sitting across from you, your friends both notice this. Then, the cogs in the brilliant mind of Alexander Cirillo turn and he comes up with what can only be a genius idea. Perhaps it's all the romance he’s been experiencing recently with his own fiancee, but Alex is convinced that this can only have one outcome, the only possible outcome – the one that’s been written in the stars since Jungkook and you met so many years ago, he’s sure of it.

Beaming, Alex looks at Valentina. “Don’t they look so good together?”

She pauses then frowns. “Together?”

Your own expression matches Valentina’s as you glance at Alex too.

“Yes, together,” he repeats as a fact, smiling at Jungkook and you before looking at Valentina.

“You’ve heard, no? Jungkook and Y/N are together.”

From next to you, Jungkook swallows hard and your hand subconsciously tightens around his arm. Both of you are staring at Alex and he just gives you a subtle raise of his brow.

“Oh, my,” Valentina smiles, and although there’s some kind of genuinity to it, there’s more you can see but haven’t got the mental capacity to try to decipher right now when you’re still trying to figure out what Alex is doing.

“I should’ve known this was gonna happen, you always were inseparable,” she says with somewhat of an eye roll.

Jungkook laughs awkwardly, but he’s not stupid and he knows Alex isn’t either. This is one surefire way he can keep Valentina and any of her advances away from him for the next three weeks. All he has to do is pretend to be dating you… how hard can that be?

“Yeah, I guess it was meant to be,” he says, sounding a little stilted.

You’re still sitting a little dumbfounded but Thalia also gives you an expression that tells you to improvise better. The most you can manage is a meek smile.

Jungkook responds almost as awkwardly, putting his arm around you which makes Alex laugh.

“Oh, don’t be so coy,” he says, sneaking in a wink to you as Valentina’s eyes remain locked on you both. “It’s been almost what? Eight months?”

“Uh, yeah, almost,” you answer, suddenly feeling shy with the way Jungkook’s hand is gripping your waist.

It’s not like he’s never had his hand on your waist before — his face was all up in your boobs only fifteen minutes ago — but the feeling remains. It makes your cheeks go warm, your heart races a little faster and your fingers go fuzzy.

You’re sure it’s showing on your face but Valentina doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she must think it’s down to you finding this awkward.

“Well, congratulations to you too then,” she says, wearing a smile that doesn’t actually seem anything less than genuine, but you’re aware there’s more to her words.

“Thank you,” Jungkook and you say in unison.

Valentina nods, taking it as her cue to leave. “I’ll see you all around, and except for the engaged couple who get a pass, let’s keep the pda to a minimum please,” she adds airily, words directed to Jungkook and you as she saunters off.

“Can’t promise anything with these two,” Alex calls out after her.

When he looks back at you, he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thalia purses her lips in a smile that resembles a child trying not to laugh while they’re getting told off.

Turning to them, you burst. “What the hell was that?” you say hotly, seeming more flustered than anything else.

Alex shrugs. “Sorry, it was the best thing I could think of.”

“It could be worse,” Thalia adds with a smile that’s supposed to be apologetic but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s finding this just as amusing as her fiancé.

Then, Jungkook shifts from beside you and only now do you realise you’re still holding his arm. “Well,” he says, briefly glancing down as you let go, “I guess we’re dating now.”

With a small raise of your brows, you shrug lightly and try not to show any signs of how flustered you’re feeling. “I guess so.”

When you meet his gaze, for a second you go still and think of what it means, how might you be expected to act with Jungkook — but really, it doesn’t seem that much different from how you already are now. Except of course, if you ever had to indulge in any public displays of affection, cheek kisses, lingering hugs, maybe even a peck on the lips…

The thought of it all sets loose a swirl of butterflies in your stomach and only then do you realise that your gaze is still locked on Jungkook, and he too, is still staring at you.

With those butterflies still swarming, you abruptly break away from his gaze and notice the tips of his ears are turning pink. You wonder if he’s thinking the same as you right now.

“See, already believable.”

Alex’s voice interrupts your thoughts and when you turn to flare at him, he’s got a smug smirk on his face.

“You’re supposed to be smart,” you say with a sigh, pushing down the butterflies that it almost seems like Alex knows all about. “Couldn’t have come up with something smarter?”

“This is smart,” Alex says with a hint of sass.

“How?” you sass back.

Leaning back, he puts his arm around Thalia as his smirk grows into a smile. “You’ll see, just give it some time,” he sighs, punctuating his sentence with a wink.

The end of the first night in Cartagena is celebrated with a formal dinner at a private venue with the most beautiful view of the coast.

The Cirillo’s had a special menu created of authentic foods from the town and the dishes were nothing less than exquisite. So much so that Alias and you are both slumped on a hammock on the balcony with bellies full and happy. A few of the guests walk past and side eye you both, probably because Alias has ungraciously undone the top button of his suit pants but it doesn’t bother either of you.

“Probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” you mumble, looking up at the night sky.

“We’ve still got dessert,” Alias sighs, patting his belly.

“Well sitting there isn’t going to help,” Jungkook’s voice says from behind you.

Turning your head, you smile when you see Jungkook with two dessert plates in his hand. He comes and sits next to you, handing one to each of you.

Alias still manages to devour his serving in silence, but you take a little longer to eat, wondering if Valentina might be somewhere near now that Jungkook is here; you’re certain she’ll be keeping a closer eye on you both so you ought to be making a conscious effort to act more like a couple but you’re not really sure what else to do. Jungkook bringing you dessert seems couple-ish enough, even though it’s what you would do on a usual night anyway.

The three of you fall into a comfortable silence and you give Alias the rest of your dessert to finish as you collapse into the hammock again. As you do so, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours and immediately you glance down at your hands, noticing how your arms and thighs are touching too. Again, it’s nothing unusual for you, but you start to wonder why it feels a little different now you’ve noticed it.

“Don’t look now,” he says, voice barely a murmur, “but she’s watching us.”

When you hum quietly in acknowledgement, his fingers brush the back of yours tentatively again and for some reason unrelated to the wind that’s blowing, you feel your skin prickling. Releasing a small breath, Jungkook curls his hand, fingers slipping between yours. The pads of your fingers press against him and you return your focus to the night sky above rather than the weird way your heart is beating now.

From your other side, Alias lets out a satisfied sigh before sitting back beside you. “So,” he says without missing a beat, “what’s up between you guys?”

“Hm?” You look at him with a small frown.

“You heard me,” he repeats with the signature boyish grin that he and his brother share. It’s enough to let you know that he knows.

“We’re, uh, together,” Jungkook answers.

Alias snorts. “You gotta sound more convincing than that, Jungkook.”

“I’d like to see you pretend to date someone,” you say, nudging his side.

Shifting to face you, Alias raises a brow. “That’s easy, watch and learn, lover boy.” He leans closer, arm moving across your chest to touch some hair behind your ears.

You get his point – Alias is close enough to lean in and kiss you if he wanted to, and the small action seems intimate enough since you’re almost laying down with him beside you.

His hand gently traces down your cheek and you giggle, finding it funny as he keeps glancing at Jungkook who shoves him back before he goes any further.

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, somehow shifting even closer to you.

When you glance at him, you can’t help but giggle at his expression. He looks a little annoyed, and although you don’t think it, anyone else might think he’s crossed the fine line to jealous — Alias certainly does.

“Alright, I know, hands off your girlfriend,” he says, raising his hands in surrender.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook mutters, “Yeah, whatever.”

Alias just chuckles, leaning back and resting his palm behind his head but unlucky for him, his moment of rest is short lived.

“Oh for goodness sake Alias!” The hushed whisper of Mrs Cirillo has all of your heads turning. She appears out of nowhere beside the hammock, a look of shock and horror on her face. “Is there a reason you’re basking in the sunset with your trousers half undone?”

“Actually,” Alias says unbothered, holding up a finger, “only the zipper is undone, so by the length of the trousers, mother, they’re nowhere near half undone.”

Frustrated, she glances around. “People must be thinking all sorts.” She looks at Jungkook and you who smile awkwardly, sitting up straight as you hope not to get scolded.

Mrs Cirillo is no stranger when it comes to teaching etiquette and given the many years of friendship between your families, she’s definitely not a stranger to teaching you a few things, and over the years, Jungkook too.

She sighs when she looks at you. “Darling, you look beautiful. Jungkook, you too, please teach my son a thing or two.” She sighs again impatiently and Alias grumbles next to you as he does up his zipper. “Now, when you’ve made yourself decent, please come with me, your father wants you to meet someone,” she says, not waiting for a response.

Alias groans. “Who? I thought I had met them all.”

“Not this one,” Mrs Cirillo replies airily as she’s still walking away. “He’s just joined us tonight.”

Like the dutiful son he is, Alias gets up and follows his mother, though not without groaning about it some more.

Jungkook and you watch him go, but just like Alias, your moment of rest is short lived.

“Um, Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice sounds apprehensive and when you look at him, his expression seems the same. He’s stretching his neck and looking out towards the opposite direction of the balcony towards the main hall. “Is that… Valentina, with your parents?”

Standing up to get a better look, you realise that Jungkook is right. Valentina is mid-way greeting your parents, your mom leaning in to give her a hug.

Looking down at Jungkook, you both realise at the same time – your parents don’t know about the two of you.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead – with zero regard for the high heels on your feet – he grabs your hand and rushes you towards them.

“Ow, wait, Jungkook, slow down!”

“Can’t,” he says, although you feel his pace slow down a little. “She’s gonna say something, of course she is.”

Jungkook isn’t wrong and the look on your parents face as you’re less than a few feet away from them tells you that Valentina has just said it. Your dad looks confused and your mom is frowning, her head tilting in the way it does when she’s not sure she believes something.

“Mom!”

She turns her head to the sound of your voice, as does Valentina and your father.

“Dad,” you smile, catching your breath as Jungkook and you stop in front of them.

Jungkook chuckles awkwardly next to you and you feel his hand go around your waist. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt…” he purposely avoids Valentina’s gaze. “We just, uh,” he glances at you, “we had a question.”

“Well, so do we,” your dad starts, looking at you with the same confused expression. “What—”

“The dresses for the couple dance!” you blurt, knowing exactly what your father was about to ask. It would totally blow your cover if it seemed like your parents didn’t know about Jungkook so you need to come up with something fast. “We need to know the colours of the dresses for the couple’s dance, for the wedding.”

If your dad looked confused before, he looks almost dumbfounded now. “A couple’s dance?”

“Y/N, what couple dance?” your mom asks somewhat impatiently and you’re certain she wants to ask the same question your dad was about to, which is most likely about Jungkook and you.

“The one for the wedding,” Jungkook answers for you. “All the couples are doing a dance after Alex and Thalia, you know? At the wedding.” He squeezes your waist gently and you chuckle.

“Exactly,” you say, taking your mom's hand discreetly. “Since Jungkook and I are dancing together, well, he needs to know the colour of my dress and I’ve forgotten.” You say it with no hesitation but with the way you’re squeezing her hand repeatedly, your mom still seems confused.

She glances at Valentina who is now staring at Jungkook’s hand right around your waist, before glancing back at you.

Taking advantage of Valentina’s momentary lapse in attention, you give her a subtle raise of your brow and hope that mother-daughter telepathy is a real thing.

“A couple’s dance?” your father asks again. “Honey, I didn’t know about this,” he says to your mom.

“Well, yes, I suppose I forgot to tell you,” she says, squeezing your hand back and you let out a grateful sigh of relief, as does Jungkook.

“Y/N, your dress is periwinkle blue for the party,” she says to you before looking at Jungkook. You can see the apprehension in her expression though it’s only noticeable to you. “Jungkook, sweetheart, I’ll make sure your suit is matching with Y/N’s of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods, lips pursed.

Together, you glance at Valentina who already seems bored.

“Well, I’ll come find you later, Mrs L/N,” she says, already turning to step away.

Your mom says a quick goodbye before Jungkook and you are left alone with her and your dad.

“Is there a reason I didn’t know about this couple's dance?”

Letting out a small laugh, Jungkook pats your dad's shoulder. “Sorry, we made that up, there isn’t a couple’s dance.“

“There isn’t?”

“No, there isn’t,” your mom answers, her brow raises as she looks between Jungkook and you. “But what I would like to know is why we just had to lie and why on earth is Valentina congratulating your father and I about you two and your relationship?”

“It’s because of me,” Jungkook answers immediately which prompts a look of surprise from your parents. “I just wanted an easy way to keep away from Valentina and saying I’m with Y/N was the best way for me to do it.” He lowers his head looking a bit ashamed.

“Well it was actually Alex who said it first,” you say, stepping forward. “He pretty much roped us into it with Valentina right there, we were clueless.” You take Jungkook’s arm and smile at your parents. “It’s just a little white lie and honestly as long as Jungkook and I are okay with it, then it’s harmless.”

“And you are okay with it?” your dad asks.

“Sure.”

Your mother frowns, the apprehension still not having left her expression. “And Jungkook… you’re okay with it too?”

Jungkook nods. “Very okay with it.”

“Alright then, but just be wary.” Your mom glances between you both. She opens her mouth as if to say more but shakes her head instead. “Who else knows?”

“Alex, Thalia, Alias, and now you both.”

“Hm, if you want to keep it a secret then I would keep it to that. The more people who know the more likely it is to come out.”

“Yes, I agree,” your dad says, frowning as he thinks. “Although I do think it would make sense to tell Leon and Helena.”

Your mom agrees with him. “I suppose it does but it’s up to you both.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, brows raising. It’s not unusual for your parents to share something with the Cirillo’s, but when it’s something like this, a lie, you don’t imagine your parents telling them.

Jungkook shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, they’re coming over now.”

Your mom looks up, smiling as they come over. “Yes, Y/N, after all it’s not really such a big lie. Jungkook and you do everything together anyway, how much more different can this be?”

“Right,” you nod, confused by the sentiment those words make you feel — perhaps Alex isn’t so wrong, maybe you do do everything with Jungkook. It must be giving the wrong idea to people…

Though that doesn’t matter now since you need to seem like you’re dating him.

“Just who I was looking for,” Mrs Cirillo beams as she approaches, but instead of looking at your mom, she’s looking at you.

“Me?” you ask, surprised.

“Yes.” She looks at Jungkook too. “And you.”

Jungkook shares the same expression as you. “Me?”

“Oh, yes, and don’t act so shy either of you.” Her smile seems rather cheeky, as does Mr Cirillo’s who stands beside her. “What’s this I hear about you two dating now, hm?”

“Oh.” Smiling hesitantly, you prepare yourself to tell them the truth as well. This feels a bit different though because you can see the excitement in Mrs Cirillo’s face, even in Mr Cirillo.

“I mean it’s about time,” Mr Cirillo says with a deep chuckle, looking at your parents to agree.

Jungkook looks rather pained as he looks between them both. “Who told you?”

“Alias, of course,” Mrs Cirillo says. “He said you’ve been keeping it a secret for some time though I don’t see why, this is wonderful news!”

She waves her hand with the statement and with it, a part of you suddenly feels like you’re being let down by yourself. It’s odd to see them so happy for Jungkook and you, only for it not to be real.

You don’t blame them though — you’ve only been pretending to date Jungkook for a day but you’re already starting to see Alex’s point a little bit more. Having Jungkook by your side just feels right.

Come to think of it, if anyone else asked you to pretend to be their girlfriend for a few weeks, you’d definitely say no. It would be hard to act so close with someone not only emotionally but physically, whereas thinking of the way Jungkook was so close to your side just a little while ago on the hammock, fingers curled around yours, you feel yourself coil at even the thought of being with anyone else.

That’s not unusual though, right? The only reason you can’t imagine it with anyone else is because Jungkook is your best friend. He’s the guy you’re most comfortable around and so you feel safe with him. Thoughts pausing, your gaze drifts to him as you briefly zone out from whatever joke Mrs Cirillo is making.

Jungkook still looks on hesitantly and the way his bottom lip moves, you can tell he’s waiting to say something. As soon as he sees his chance and quickly gets a word in. “Oh, well, actually, Mrs Cirillo, it’s not really real.”

She looks towards him and frowns a little. “What do you mean?” There’s disappointment in her tone that you (for some unknown reason) can relate to.

“It’s more of a make believe relationship, if that’s one way to put it,” your dad answers albeit looking confused himself.

Mr Cirillo appears to be on the same brainwave as your dad as he looks confused too. “That’s absurd. I believe it very much.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs Cirillo says, nodding. “Who wouldn’t?”

Pushing aside your own confused feelings, you help clear up this mess. “What we’re trying to say is that it’s not a real relationship.” You glance at Jungkook who looks at you and nods. “We’re just pretending to date.”

“Oh.” Their expressions fall, small frowns replacing the excitement in their eyes.

“Why would you do that?” Mr Cirillo asks.

“My ex is on the cruise,” Jungkook answers. “You probably remember her, Valentina?”

There’s a few seconds of quiet until Mr Cirillo finds the name familiar. “Ah, yes, tall girl, Forero if I’m not mistaken?”

Jungkook nods, lips pursed.

“So she’s the reason you’re doing this?” Mrs Cirillo gestures between Jungkook and you.

Jungkook nods again.

She sighs quietly. “Honestly, it all seems a bit fuddy duddy, Valentina is harmless. There’s better ways to keep someone away, Jungkook, wouldn’t it be better to just ask her to stay away from you?”

“That might come across as more rude than this,” you say with a shrug. “Also, we ought to mention that this was all Alex’s idea.”

“Alex?!” Mrs Cirillo exclaims. “Did he even ask you first?”

“Nope,” you shake your head with a smile having absolutely no qualms throwing your best friend under the bus.

“Oh, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Mrs Cirillo turns and reaches for her husband's hand. “Leon, I do believe that boy is getting almost as troublesome as his older brother.”

Mr Cirillo laughs. “Oh, it’s just a little fun, besides, having Jungkook and Y/N pretending to play house can’t be all that bad.” He turns to Jungkook and you and winks.

You return his cheek with a smile. “It’s actually easier than it looks.”

“I’m sure it is,” he quips with a quick raise of his brow. His smirk seems telling but you don’t think anything of it at the moment as you feel Jungkook’s hand on your arm.

“Just don’t tell anyone please,” he says, chuckling nervously.

“Of course not,” Mrs Cirillo says. “I think Alex may have been onto something anyway.” She glances towards your mom and they share a smile. “Let’s get something to drink, hm?”

Your mom laughs, taking her arm. “Yes, please, I need one.”

Together, they walk off and to you it looks like they’re high schoolers sharing secrets again — you’re sure they’re going to have lots to talk about again today.

Mr Cirillo chuckles as they go off. “Three guesses what they’re talking about,” he says quietly to your dad who shares a smile with his friend before they both turn to Jungkook and you.

“Well, I think I’m going to go and look for more dessert,” you say, slowly taking a step back to excuse yourself and Jungkook.

“Yeah, I’m gonna do that too,” Jungkook says, nodding his head at your dad and Mr Cirillo.

“Of course, I’ll see you later on,” your dad smiles. His eyes fall to where Jungkook’s hand is holding your arm and his smile grows just a little wider but before you can think anything of it, Mr Cirillo makes a comment.

“That’s a nice suit you’re wearing, Jungkook.” He nods, looking visibly impressed.

“Thanks.”

Mr Cirillo continues. “I remember when you would wear your suits from those high street stores with the cheap labels but look at you now, kid.”

Pausing in your slow retreat, you blink. You’ve known Mr Cirillo all your life so you know that the comment really holds no ill intent, and also bearing in mind the fact that you know just how much he has come to admire Jungkook and cares for him as much as he does for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for Mr Cirillo to make a comment like that.

Jungkook only smiles, though he doesn’t need to say anything for anyone to see that the backhanded compliment isn’t appreciated. He continues to step away but now you’re rooted firmly in the spot.

“Well with a personality like his and far more brains than most people combined, Jungkook has never needed material to make him look good, wouldn’t you agree, Mr Cirillo?” Your expression is friendly enough but your tone? Not so much.

He smiles awkwardly, immediately having understood his mistake. “Does that mean the opposite for myself?” he asks lightly.

“Oh, I’ve never thought so,” you say, smiling plastically. “Those words came from your own mouth.”

Mr Cirillo laughs. “You’re a sharp one, Y/N. That's why I like you a lot.”

“Likewise, Leon,” you wink, reaching for Jungkook’s arm. “Now we’ll be off.”

Mr Cirillo still chuckles and you catch your dad smiling at you as you walk away with Jungkook.

“Did you just call him ugly?” Jungkook asks with a small laugh once you're out of earshot.

“I didn’t call him anything,” you shrug.

He laughs again, coming to a stop with you near the dessert table where you both browse the selection. “You know I could’ve answered myself though,” he says after a moment.

Taking your pick, you turn to him with a small pout. It’s not the first time someone has made a comment about Jungkook that has annoyed you more than him, and you know that Jungkook prefers to pick and choose his battles wisely, unlike you always feeling as though you have to say something.

“I know, sorry,” you wince a little. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, taking a bowl of Eton mess.

Together, you start walking towards the same hammock you were previously sitting at.

“I actually think it’s kinda cute,” he adds.

Your brows raise inquisitively. “Having me as your knight in shining armour?”

He shrugs, taking a spoonful into his mouth as you both sit down. “More like my princess with her many privileges.” His lips curl into a smile as he says it.

Laughing, you lean back comfortably into the hammock. “Well, of course, Mr Cirillo wouldn’t dare say anything to me.”

“And no one else other than you would insult Mr Cirillo to his face.”

Holding up your fork, you laugh again. “I only implied, there’s a difference.”

Jungkook hums, leaning back next to you. He takes a big spoonful into his mouth, eating this slowly while you steal some of his. Swallowing, he sits up a little beside you. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Looking up at him, you frown. “Do what?”

“Pretend to date me.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

He shrugs. “If it makes you uncomfortable, or even if you just don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, sitting up with him.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, watching your expression for any signs of a lie. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you repeat.

With those words, Jungkook seems to relax. “Okay.” Faint traces of a smile appear on his face as he leans back.

“The soap here smells amazing,” Thalia says, bringing her hands to her nose to sniff again a few times after drying them.

Tossing your used hand towel in the hamper, you take a sniff too. “Mm, it does. I smell coconut.”

“And yuzu,” Thalia says, still inhaling the smell.

Laughing, you pull her hands away from her nose as you walk out of the washroom together.

The corridor is dimly lit as you walk back towards the restaurant but you’re very impressed by the interior, the burgundy and golden interior of this part of the venue complimenting each other well, especially with the many plants lining the corridors.

“Where’s Alex?” you ask.

“Somewhere around here,” Thalia answers. “Honestly I lost him an hour ago after he went to check out the golf course here.”

“There’s a golf course here?” you ask, surprised. Though really you don’t know why you’re surprised, walking to the bathroom was a mission on its own, this place is huge.

“Yeah they have everything, tennis courts, basketball, there’s even a riding school.”

At that, your ears perk up. “Are the horses available to hire?”

Thalia turns to you with a smile. “You wanna go for a canter?”

“Can we?” You ask, eyes lighting up too. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been riding.”

“We’ll have to ask but I’m sure my dad could sort something out for us. Although we have booked a resort for when we get to Barcelona and later on in Malta too. They’re renowned for their riding instructors.”

Laughing, you walk around the next corner together. “How have you booked resorts while we’re on a cruise? I bet Mrs Cirillo had something to do with it,” you add, knowing that she always has to have everything and the best of it for her kids.

Thalia nods with a smile. “My mom and yeah, Helena. They’ve been planning this for a year, of course there’s going to be something for everyone.”

“Strippers?” you ask, brows raising.

“Except that.”

“Hm, fair,” you say, frowning as you walk around another corner. “Anyway, I don’t really care for the instructors but it’ll have to be Barcelona. I just wanna ride, it’s been so long since I last went.”

Thalia agrees. “Sure, I’ll ask my dad, I’m pretty sure he’s already friends with the owner of the one in Barcelona so it should be easy.”

“Great,” you smile, excited by the thought, though your smile turns into a frown as you realise you’re walking by the same door you just walked out of a little while ago.

At the same time, Thalia slows down. “Are we lost?” she asks.

Looking up at the women’s washroom sign, your frown deepens. “Yeah, I think we’ve just gone in a circle.” You look up and down the corridor, taking a few steps in the opposite direction from which you just came to follow a different path. “Maybe we should try going left from here instead?”

“There really should be a clearer exit,” Thalia huffs. “My feet hurt.”

Laughing, you glance back at her. “I don’t think anyone was taking into account the fact that people might be walking in 6-inch heels down these corridors– oh.” Mid-sentence, you bump into someone as you’re walking around the next corner. “Sorry,” you say, looking up at the guy as you feel steady hands on your arms to stop you from stumbling.

“I’m so sorry,” he says at the same time, looking down.

Oh.

His brows knit together before a smile breaks out on his face. “Y/N?”

“Lawrence!” A smile appears on your face embarrassingly fast. “Hi!”

He chuckles softly, taking a step back and taking his hands with him. You don’t know whether to appreciate the sweetness or be sad they’re gone.

Lawrence Goldman is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid eyes on with a personality to match, and he was your high school crush for years. He was everyone’s crush to be honest, but even in uni, you never were able to stop swooning over him, but that’s all it’s ever been, a crush. For some reason, you could never let yourself take it further despite him showing interest a few times.

“It’s been so long, my gosh, how are you?” he asks, eyes skimming your figure. “You look absolutely amazing,” he adds without a second thought.

“Hey again,” Thalia says, appearing beside you.

Lawrence gives her a smile, his attention quickly returning to you.

“I’m great,” you beam, “how are you? I’m surprised to see you, I thought you were working in Singapore?”

“I am,” he nods before looking at Thalia. “Well I was, but there was no way I was gonna miss this one’s wedding.”

Thalia laughs, putting her arm around him briefly. “Love you for it, Goldie.”

Lawrence rolls his eyes at the nickname and you smile. Thalia and Lawrence attended the same prep school before reuniting in college, and it’s through Lawrence that Thalia was introduced to Alex and the rest of you — your world is apparently a very small world so Lawrence being here really shouldn’t be a surprise to you, but with everything else going on, you may have forgotten about Lawrence.

“I’ve only just joined because I had a meeting I couldn’t miss yesterday,” he adds, eyes skimming down your figure once more while he thinks you’re still smiling at Thalia but you definitely don’t miss it.

“Ah, I see.” You can’t help it when you mirror his actions, noting how the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving a peak of the chain he’s always worn since he Longbottom-ed — he clearly knows the effect it has. “So you’re joining us for the rest of the cruise?” When your eyes meet his again, his lips curl into a smirk.

“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll be here.”

Noticing Thalia glancing between you both, you realise you ought to stop whatever weirdness is going on right now before she thinks there’s something between you, not that she won’t ask you herself anyway.

“Well that’s great,” you smile, taking a step closer to Thalia’s side.

“Mhm, I’m looking forward to spending time with you,” he says.

Your response is on the top of your tongue — “so am I” — and you intend to say it with a flutter of your lashes, but before you can say anything, Thalia answers for you.

“We all are,” she grins, hand winding around your waist where she squeezes with a light force when she says the next words. “Including Jungkook and Alex.”

For a second you’re confused but the mention of Jungkook sparks your memory and you remember everything that’s happened in the past few days.

Jungkook and you are dating — you realise now why Thalia interjected and she was right to do so, otherwise you might’ve made a silly mess by opening yourself up to flirting with Lawrence.

“Oh, yes,” you answer, perking up. “Jungkook will definitely be happy to see you I’m sure, it’s been a while since we all met last.”

“Yeah?” Lawrence casually responds.

“Of course,” Thalia says with a wiggle of her brows. “Y/N is his girlfriend, she would know of course.”

As you smile dutifully, you catch the confusion briefly show on Lawrence’s face before he quickly disguises it as surprise. “You and Jungkook?” he says, lips turning into a smile. It’s the kind of smile that could mean many things.

“Yep,” you nod, lips pursed in a smile.

Something resembling a sigh leaves him. “You guys will have to catch me up on that for sure,” he says.

“There’ll be lots to catch you up on,” Thalia grins, “but right now, can we figure out how to get out of here?”

Lawrence chuckles, stepping to the side. “Of course, I know the way.” He gestures towards the left, waiting for you and Thalia to pass.

As you fall into stride with Thalia on one side and Lawrence on the other side, you can’t help but feel some kind of disappointment at Lawrence’s reaction, though what did you expect?

Of course he’s not going to say or do anything differently, and as long as you’ve agreed to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, you shouldn’t want him to react any differently. You’re lucky Thalia stepped in when she did or you might’ve completely forgotten you’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone else and would’ve ended up blowing the story for Jungkook entirely.

“Ah, here we are!” Thalia skips forward out into the late evening night.

The view on the balcony now is even more beautiful with fairy lights adorning the trees along its perimeter. Everyone you recognise seems to be congregating towards one area as it’s almost time to leave to board the cruise ship again.

“Oh there you are.” Jungkook appears from the middle of the crowd, not seeming to have noticed Lawrence who’s more closely following Thalia. “We’re leaving soon, here.” He hands you your purse you left with him a while earlier.

“Thanks,” you answer, taking it and checking you haven’t left anything else. “Sorry, we got a bit lost inside.”

“Mhm, that’s fine, I was just about to come look for you anyway,” Jungkook says, looking at Thalia and only then does he notice Lawrence. The lines expressing concern in his face deepen into confusion.

Seeing this change, Lawrence smiles. “Hey mate.”

In a split second Jungkook’s confused frown changes to a smile. “Lawrence!” Reaching forward, the two share a pleasant exchange.

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”

“Not bad, yourself?”

Jungkook nods. “I’ve been alright.”

“Better than alright from what I hear,” Lawrence says, brow raising as he glances in your direction.

Jungkook’s gaze follows and you smile with a little shrug, subtly nodding at Jungkook.

“Ah.” Jungkook chuckles, taking a step towards your side. “Well, yeah, better than alright,” he confirms with a very believable smile.

Lawrence laughs, looking between you. From behind him, you catch Thalia standing beside Alex as they watch the interaction play out.

“I think it’s amazing,” Lawrence says, patting Jungkook’s arm. “You two are great together.”

“You’ve only just seen us again,” you say with a smile.

“Hm, I’ve seen it for years,” Lawrence replies with a nod of his head and a small sigh as he looks at you. He’s still smiling but when you look at him, the brightness in his eyes has faded. “Trust me,” he says quieter than before, “I was always watching.”

Pursing your lips, you smile but you still feel self conscious as his gaze on you doesn’t budge. “That sounds a little stalker-ish, Lawrence,” you chuckle.

Laughing, he shrugs. “Might’ve been. I always was a bit of a recluse.”

“I wouldn’t say you were a recluse.”

He arches his brow, lips morphing into a cocky smile. “Then what would you say I was?”

Mirroring his expression, you scoff. “What d’you want me to say, huh? Tall, handsome and mysterious?”

“Took the words right from my mouth,” he says smugly.

“Ha,” you laugh. Despite it being somewhat true, you respond to say otherwise. “You wish.”

Lawrence smiles. “Ah, I guess those words are reserved for this one, huh?” He nods towards Jungkook.

“Hm…” you look towards Jungkook who smiles with his lips pursed. It’s not his usual full smile and behind it there seems to be a reservation that tells you he’s being more quiet than usual. Nudging him gently, you beam when he meets your eyes. “Nah, I’ve got better words for this one.”

He nods and chuckles quietly but only briefly.

You wonder what’s caused the shift in his mood since he seemed so bright only a moment ago when greeting Lawrence.

“Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it, I’m interested to hear how things happened between you,” Lawrence says.

Humming quietly, you nod as your attention remains on Jungkook. “Some other time, I think we need to get moving now,” you say, nodding towards the crowd of moving guests ahead of you.

“Ah, yes,” he answers, turning to look behind him. “I’ll see you around though, yeah?” He places his hand on your arm.

You don’t pay much attention to it but feel Jungkook pull on your hand gently.

“Yeah man, we’ll see you around,” he says, reaching to pat Lawrence’s arm.

Lawrence nods, throwing you a smile before he turns and joins the rest of your party.

As he walks away, Jungkook turns to you. “Shall we go too?”

You nod, allowing him to lead the way, hand still in yours. There’s a hum of conversation around you as everyone makes their way back towards the cars to take you to the port, but you’re grateful no one interrupts the two of you as you walk alone, a little behind the rest.

“You okay?” you ask after a quiet moment.

Jungkook answers almost right away. “Yeah. You?”

“Mhm.” You watch him as he kicks some of the sand beneath his feet with every step. “You sure though?”

He turns to look at you, a smile on his lips though his brows furrow a little in the middle. “Yeah, why?”

“Just,” you shrug. “I thought you seemed a bit quiet back there with Lawrence.”

Jungkook turns away and shrugs. “I’m all good, no reason not to be.”

It’s not exactly convincing to you, but you take his word for it. If it’s something he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you in his own time if he wants to. Or, it’s actually just nothing and you’re overthinking this for no reason. After all, there is no explanation that you can think of for Jungkook to be upset with Lawrence, especially when he was so happy to see him just now. Yes, you’re just overthinking it.

“Y/N, Jungkook, please be on time for breakfast tomorrow and not an hour late like last time,” your mother scolds airily as she waves her hand behind her.

“Yes, mom,” you smile as she turns into her cabin.

“Will do,” Jungkook nods, raising a hand to say good night to your parents.

Once their door is closed, Jungkook continues to walk with you towards your cabin.

“You better wake up earlier this time,” you yawn, pulling out your key card.

Jungkook scoffs, coming to a stop next to your door. “Me?!” He rests his hand against the door frame, leaning closer. “You’re the one who was still sleeping when I came down.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “You have no proof.”

He matches your smile, cocking his head. “Alright, I’m recording you tomorrow morning, don’t get mad at me when I get your bed head and dried dribble face on camera.”

“Hey,” you pout, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t dribble.”

Jungkook shrugs, smiling. ”Tomorrow I’ll have proof.”

You narrow your eyes at him, internally vowing to wake up early so you can be ready before he comes to you. “There’s no—“

“Oh, Jungkook, Y/N!”

The sickeningly sweet cotton candy voice has your smile faltering. Jungkook winces, his face hidden from Valentina as she approaches from behind you.

Slowly, you turn around to face her.

“Well isn’t this just perfect,” she beams, coming to stop beside you both. “We’re neighbours here!”

Chuckling, you nod your head. “That really is perfect.”

Valentine smiles again, glancing between the two of you before shrugging. “Well,” she sighs, opening her purse to look for her key card. “Don’t mind me, I was just grabbing a few things. You two enjoy your night.” She waves airily but doesn’t move.

“Mhm, you too,” you nod.

As she pulls out her key card, she’s just about to walk away before she pauses to focus on Jungkook and a delicate frown appears on her face.

Glancing at him, you’re not surprised to see she’s frowning. Jungkook hasn’t said a word and he looks rather pained right now.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” She tilts her head. “You look a little…” She steps closer, frown deepening as she moves until all of a sudden she stops. “Oh.” Her eyes widen, an apologetic pout appearing on her face. “I see, was I interrupting something?” She asks, pointing between you both.

For a second you’re confused — yes, she interrupted your conversation with Jungkook and she knows that already — but then you remember that you’re supposed to be in a romantic relationship with Jungkook, and the expression on Valentina's face tells you she thinks she’s interrupted something else.

Jungkook is obviously just as confused. “Huh?”

“You’re both going to bed now, are you not?”

He frowns. “Uh, yeah…”

“Yes, I thought so. Apologies then…” She glances down towards Jungkook’s crotch as the words that follow imply it — “oh, sorry, I must’ve put that fire out.”

A strangled noise escapes Jungkook’s throat and he looks relatively mortified. “What?— no!” He takes a step closer to your side while you somehow pull him closer to your side protectively in an attempt to hide him from her.

Valentina doesn’t respond to the expressions on neither of your faces and only sighs disappointedly, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “I remember there was a time when I was the one to ignite the fire in your loins.”

The same strangled noise comes from Jungkook and you have to stop from bursting out into laughter.

“Val,” Jungkook says, “were you not going somewhere?”

“Oh, yes.” She perks up, smiling brightly again. “Well you two lovebirds go ahead.”

Just when you expect her to walk away, she doesn’t. In fact she stands there waiting for Jungkook and you to go into what she thinks is your shared cabin.

“We will,” Jungkook says with the fakest smile you’ve seen on him.

Valentina only nods, still waiting.

Jungkook is about to say something again but you know there’s no point. Unlocking your door, you pull him into your room with you. “Bye, Val.”

“Good night,” you hear her respond as the door closes shut.

Turning around to face Jungkook, you look at him with an expression crossed between shock and amusement. “Oh my God, how did you ever date her?!”

Jungkook groans, collapsing face down onto the end of your bed. “I swear she isn’t that bad, she’s doing it on purpose,” he says, muffled into the sheets.

Humming, you sit at the end of your bed beside him. “I guess so.” You lie down so you’re level with him.

Lying beside him, it’s quiet for a moment as you replay the exchange in your head. “So, she must’ve really been something if she was igniting the fire in your loins.” You can’t help but snort after saying it and Jungkook laughs beside you too, head still buried.

Now that Valentina isn’t here, you allow yourself to laugh at it and you’re glad Jungkook does too. By the time you’re done laughing at it, you’re wiping away tears.

Lifting his head, he shakes his head. “This isn’t gonna be easy,” he says.

“Yeah, she really doesn’t make it easy,” you respond quietly.

Both of you fall silent for a moment again, listening carefully to see if you can hear her footsteps.

“I can’t hear her anymore,” Jungkook says.

“Me neither.” You turn to look at him.

He props himself up on his elbows. “So what now?”

“Well, we could wait till she goes away and then you sneak out,” you think aloud. “But how are we gonna do that every night?”

Jungkook nods, understanding. “So I should just stay?”

“I’m cool with it if you are,” you shrug.

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, then he looks at you with a soft frown creasing his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“Totally sure,” you nod, rolling onto your side to lean on your elbow. “Besides, it’s not like we’ve made things easy for ourselves,” you add with a laugh.

The lines seem to have disappeared from Jungkook’s face but when your eyes search for some kind of clue to his feelings, you find something you can’t decipher hiding behind the brown of his eyes.

He smiles, releasing a soft breath as he does so, and only now do you realise how close your face is to his.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable?” he says.

Nodding, you lift your pinky finger.

He raises his own hand and closes his own pinky finger around yours.

“I will,” you promise him.

His smile grows and oddly, you feel your heart do a little flutter in your chest as a warm feeling spreads through you. You’re suddenly reminded of how you felt earlier on in the evening as you lay on the balcony with Jungkook… has he always made you feel this way? Before you can let yourself think about it, Jungkook is leaping off the bed and with him, the feeling disappears.

“So, I don’t plan on having your mum tell me off tomorrow morning so I’m going to sleep.” He turns to look at you, placing his hand on his hips. “Slight problem though, my clothes are in my cabin.”

“Then go get them, duh,” you answer.

“What if Valentina is still outside?” he says, pointing to the door. “It’s only been a few minutes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to eavesdrop on us right now.”

“Hmm…” you can’t deny he has a point. “Well I guess,” you say, dropping your voice to a whisper, “you won’t know until you try.”

“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, grabbing his phone from the bed.

You follow him to the door and you’re actually almost surprised when he opens it to reveal no one is there. Jungkook turns to look at you sporting a similar expression on his face and shrugs before stepping out.

“I guess that makes things easier for us—“

You’re interrupted mid-sentence as Jungkook immediately turns back into the room with a slightly panicked expression, barging into you.

“Jungkook!” Losing your balance, you feel yourself falling backwards with Jungkook stumbling forward. Your ass hits the floor first and you just manage to bring your arms behind you in time but your head still hits the carpeted floor behind you, and Jungkook who seems to fall in slow motion with you, eventually lands on top of you.

“Oh I’m sorry,” he mumbles, pushing himself up onto his forearms.

“That really hurt,” you groan, squirming on the floor. You’re grateful the floor is carpeted but both your head and ass still hurt.

Jungkook looks down at you with concern replacing any previous features. “Where?”

Rubbing the back of your head, you frown at him. “Everywhere. Why’d you turn back?”

“She’s right there!” Jungkook suddenly whispers instead. “She was practically having sex against the wall with some guy.”

Still recovering from your fall, you look at him confused. “What?”

Jungkook grimaces. “She was outside her room with some guy.”

“But we just saw her!” you respond in a hushed whisper.

“I know! He must’ve been close by and they were making out like their lives depended on—”

“Well, this is interesting.”

Rolling your eyes at the sound of her voice, you let your head drop back onto the floor while Jungkook scrambles to move off of you. Moving beside you, he reveals Valentina standing at the door, her lipstick smudged and her hair a bit messier than it was a little while earlier.

She narrows her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Foreplay on the floor is new to me, and leaving the door open…” She looks directly at Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism.”

Jungkook visibly freaks out, getting up and pulling you with him. “No, gosh, it was an accident.”

Valentina frowns. “I don’t judge, Jungkook,” she says matter-of-factly.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies almost exasperatedly. “But this was just an accident, we fell over.”

“Hm, okay,” she says with a shrug as she glances at the bed.

You know she doesn’t believe him but really there’s nothing else you can say to make her think otherwise. Besides, you don’t really care what she thinks while your head still hurts.

“Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.” She looks back at you with a smirk. “How about we both do our best to keep it down tonight, hm?” she winks before turning and fluttering her fingers. “Ta-ta angels, see you in the morning!”

As soon as she’s disappeared from view, you go shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood.

“Okay, she is so doing it on purpose.”

“I know,” Jungkook agrees almost immediately. “I don’t get why though.”

“I know why,” you say, raising your brows. “She probably still isn’t over you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “If anything, she’s just not used to people moving on from her. Her exes were always all over her when we were together.”

“So she expects you to go crawling back to her?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “She’s really not helping herself though. Maybe I should talk to her, tell her to just give me space…” He looks at you, raising his brow in question.

“You could, but I reckon she’ll just act innocent and pretend she has no clue what you’re talking about.”

“True,” Jungkook sighs.

“Look, it’s fine,” you say, walking over to the drawer. “It’s just Val, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Throwing a set of satin pyjamas on the bed, you turn around to face him again. “Besides, I’m tired now, my head hurts and I’d like to sleep.”

The frown on Jungkook’s face doesn’t disappear. “It still hurts?” he asks, coming over to you.

“Yeah, you knocked me over pretty hard, my ass hurts too,” you pout.

Jungkook chuckles, hands coming to rest on your shoulders and he squeezes gently. “Want me to massage it?” he jokes.

“Ooh, good idea. Let’s leave the door open too,” you laugh.

Jungkook smiles, still giving you a shoulder massage and you feel yourself letting go slowly.

“Mm,” you hum softly, head relaxing. Jungkook steps closer and you let your forehead rest against his chest.

You don’t realise as Jungkook’s hands stop working and gently make their way around your waist, holding you up as you get lost in the warmth of his embrace.

“Should we go to bed before you fall asleep here?” Jungkook says after a moment.

Pulling away from him, you smile with tired eyes. “Dibs on the bathroom first.”

Jungkook obliges and sits down on your bed while you go first. When it’s his turn, he goes quickly since he has the most minimal night time routine, one of which you’ve always been envious of.

You’re just finishing brushing your hair when he’s coming out.

“What time is it?” he asks, stepping out as he dries his face.

“Almost two,” you respond, getting up to walk over to your pyjamas on the bed.

Jungkook turns around without being told, facing the opposite direction. “D’you think I could go get my clothes from upstairs now?”

You pull on your pyjama bottoms. “Probably not. I don’t think I have anything that would fit you either.”

“What do I do then?” Jungkook asks, his confused tone making you laugh.

“Don’t act like you don’t sleep naked half the time, Jeon.”

“Well when I’m alone, yeah. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he says.

“I’m not, don’t worry.” You clamber into bed, pulling the sheets up to your shoulders as you get comfortable. “Just get into bed.”

Still facing away from you, Jungkook shrugs before pulling off his top. You don’t realise you’re staring at him strip until he starts pulling down his pants.

Abruptly, you pull the covers up even higher so you can’t see him. You hear him shuffling and then he stops but you can’t feel him getting into bed.

“Really?” he says. “My abs offend you that much?”

You can’t help but laugh, still keeping your eyes closed as you move the sheets down but place your hand in front of your eyes instead. “Actually, they make for pretty good eye candy.”

Jungkook gasps scandalously, still shuffling about the room. “Have you been checking me out, Y/N?”

Cocking your head, you smile. “Now what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t appreciate you and your God given looks, hm?”

“A terrible one.”

“Exactly.”

“So why are you covering your eyes?” he asks, his voice growing louder as you feel the covers move beside you.

“Because there’s another friend of yours that I don’t think I should be seeing as your best friend,” you say, ignoring the way you feel your cheeks go warm when you say it, and especially the way Jungkook’s deep chuckle sounds as you notice the bed dip beside you.

“He’s covered,” he says quietly.

“Not enough.”

Jungkook laughs again and this time you can feel his body beside yours. “That friend is hidden safe and sound, Y/N. You can look now.”

Peeking your eyes open slowly, you see Jungkook right beside you in bed. He’s sitting up, smiling down at you with his abs eye level to you. You’ve seen Jungkook topless before plenty of times, but being this close and being in bed with him is new to you. You’re sure it’s the reason you feel your heart rate rising.

“Good,” you say, turning away. “Now hide the eye candy please. It’s bedtime, I’ve brushed my teeth and I’m not trying to get a cavity.”

Jungkook laughs, sliding down further into the bed to cover himself up to his shoulders.

“They’re that sweet, huh?”

“I’d be disappointed if they weren’t, all that time in the gym would just be a waste.”

“Now that’s true,” Jungkook says with a smile, shifting in the bed so he’s more comfortable.

You hum quietly, staying still as Jungkook moves. Only once he’s found his comfortable position, then you do the same, turning onto your belly facing him.

Jungkook happens to be facing you too and he smiles sleepily as his eyes close. “Good night, Y/N.”

Your eyes remain open for a few seconds as you look at him a little longer. “Mhm, night Koo,” you whisper, smiling even though he can’t see you.

He looks pretty when he sleeps. You take in every one of his features, unaware that there is still a smile on your face as you do so.

Catching you unaware, Jungkook winks an eye open. “What’re you looking at, hm?” he asks softly with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You feel flustered, eyes going wide. “There’s something on your face,” you say quickly, brushing nothing off of his face. “Eyelash or something,” you mutter, subconsciously shifting away from him a little since the close proximity definitely isn’t helping.

“Uh-huh,” he nods, hiding a smile.

You’re not sure what it is about his smile that makes your heart skip a beat and your senses go fuzzy like they’ve done so more than once now because of Jungkook. It’s odd, he’s not doing anything different, yet you feel different. Mentally, you officially dub this The Jungkook Effect.

There’s not much you can say to defend yourself so you press your eyes shut and fight back a smile yourself. “Well, anyway, good night.”

“You sure you wanna sleep?” Jungkook teases.

“Oh shut up,” you say with a laugh, you pull one of the pillows out from behind your head and place it in the small space between your torsos.

Jungkook lifts his own head off his pillow and looks down at it with an amused smile. “Is this really necessary?”

Lifting your own head and resting on your palm, you arch your brow at him. “I’ve read enough books to know what happens when two people who aren’t dating share a bed.”

Jungkook mirrors your expression and dares to move an inch closer. “And what’s that?”

Smiling like the little know it all you are, you answer, “They wake up in the morning with someone’s cute ass, which would be mine in this case, conveniently pushed up against someone’s dick.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and the smirk on his lips is clear as day. “Ah, which would be mine,” he says, briefly looking down. His lips look wet when he says it and for some reason you find yourself wanting this conversation to continue on the same wavelength it is right now… but it’s also at this moment you realise you’re lying in bed and practically flirting with your best friend.

“Exactly,” you say, letting out a small breath as you fall back into your pillow, looking up to the ceiling.

Pursing his lips, Jungkook hides a smile. “Well I guess we definitely don’t want that to happen.”

You stifle a laugh as you lightly whack him with the pillow between you before putting it back in its place. “Shut it, Jeon.”

He chuckles, falling back into his pillow. “Just kidding,” he murmurs, sliding further beneath the covers and getting comfortable. “Good night, Y/N.”

With a tired smile, you hum. “Good night, Koo.”

The stops at St Tropez and Nice both pass as quickly as the first few cities in Spain and before you know it, you’ve visited all the cities scheduled for France too. The stop in Barcelona has been your favourite so far though — the resort the Diamindis’ booked for the families on the cruise most definitely did not disappoint and the riding you got to do was just a big bonus, especially watching Alias struggling with his mare.

The whole Jungkook situation has been pretty easy to navigate too. Now that the important people in your life know it’s not real, it makes it easier and Jungkook and you only need to behave as you normally do so you’re both happy. On top of that, you’ve noted that you haven’t had any more experiences with the Jungkook effect, though you’re not sure you can say that pleases you.

It’s also been a while since you’ve hung out with Lawrence. He seemed to stay close in the first few days but you figured it must be his parents encouraging him to socialise with some of the other families since he’s not at home much. This became true enough when you saw him stuck at a table in some fancy restaurant in Nice with the Maddison’s.

Although you did hope to get to spend some more time with Lawrence, at least for old times sake, you can’t say you care much, especially since Sophia has finally joined you.

“Why don’t we go to the pool?” you say, raising your brows at Sophia. It’s almost midnight but you’re still lounging on a quieter deck with Jungkook and Alias. Since it’s a sea day tomorrow, you don’t need to be up early and it seems like it’ll be more fun than the last time now that Sophia is here too.

She perks up at that, turning towards you. “It’s closed right?”

“Yep, but that just makes it better,” you smile, ignoring Jungkook and Alias scoffing at your change in opinion — last time you were adamant that you should be following the rules.

“Okay, let’s do it.” She looks at Jungkook and Alias. “You guys joining us?”

“Sure,” Alias hops up. “It’ll be fun to see Y/N break the rules,” he grins at you.

Sassing him, you get up too. “This time I’m pushing you in.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Alias tenses, flexing his biceps. “I’m 73 kilos of this,” he nods.

It’s no secret that Alias has an impressive figure, but unwilling to cave, you just roll your eyes and playfully swat his arm. “Whatever.”

“Alright, let’s meet at the top deck pool in ten minutes?” Jungkook says hopping up from the lounge.

“Make that fifteen,” Sophia says. “I don’t know where I put all my swimsuits.”

Agreeing, you all head towards the upper decks, only splitting up to go towards your respective corridors to your cabins. Sophia and Alias go right towards the corridor where their family cabins are situated, while Jungkook and you still need to walk a little further to get back to your shared cabin.

Surprisingly, it’s been easy to share a cabin with Jungkook. Most days you come back from whatever activity you had that day and knock out easily since you’re so tired. On top of that, your pillow idea seems to be working perfectly and you haven’t experienced any awkward or uncomfortable moments. There have, however, been a few times you’ve mistaken the pillow for Jungkook and in the split second it takes you to realise it’s only the pillow, you can swear your heart skips a beat and your pulse races. The disappointment that follows is something you can’t seem to explain to yourself.

“So Sophia comes and all of a sudden you’re Little Miss Daredevil, huh?” Jungkook says, as you walk together.

You glance at him and note how handsome he looks today. After spending some time in the sea while in Nice, his dark locks are curled and framing his face perfectly. He walks with his hands in his short pockets and the linen material of his shirt blows in the evening air giving the occasional glimpse of his lean figure. It occurs to you that this is going to be coming off in a short while when you go to the pool—

Oop. You pause your thoughts, realising that the little flutter you just felt down south was definitely due to picturing your best friend topless. A part of you feels guilty wondering if Jungkook would be embarrassed, but you also know that Jungkook knows what you think of his physique. You pretty much said it all the other night and he’s caught you looking plenty of times before that, even making jokes about it when you did.

“She brings out that side of me,” you sigh, smiling as you descend the steps that lead towards your corridor.

“Alias and I aren’t good enough for you, huh?”

“Don’t take it personally,” you joke, and Jungkook just laughs quietly so he doesn’t wake up anyone as you walk past some cabins.

Once back at your own, you quickly change into a bathing suit and throw on a hoodie and shorts so in case any staff see you, they don’t suspect you’re planning on going to the pool.

Alias is already waiting at the top deck and you can also see he’s brought some drinks along with him. He’s chosen not to cover up and is revealing his washboard abs for the whole world to see, and let’s not forget those killer thighs of his.

“Beat you here,” he says without even thinking.

“Who was counting?” Jungkook says, bumping shoulders with him on purpose.

“I was,” Alias responds, and quickly the two resort to their childish antics as Jungkook pulls him into a headlock. You choose to sit and watch, dipping your toes in the pool as you throw your hoodie to the side.

“Guys, shut up, we can hear you from a mile away,” you hear Sophia’s voice from behind you as she climbs the steps to your deck.

Jungkook and Alias stop mid-wrestle and you get up to pull your shorts off.

“Huh?” Alias frowns, pulling himself free from Jungkook. “We?”

Once Sophia is standing on the deck, you see someone else coming up behind her.

Lawrence.

Sophia steps to the side as he steps up. “Yeah, we,” she repeats.

“Hey guys,” Lawrence says with a harmless smile, glancing across at you all.

“Hey,” you smile back.

“Oh, hey man,” Alias waves.

Jungkook smiles too with a nod of his head.

“I saw Lawrence on the way so I thought I’d ask him to join us,” Sophia explains as she too pulls off an oversized hoodie.

“I hope that’s alright,” Lawrence chuckles awkwardly.

“The more the merrier,” Alias says with a shrug. “So,” he looks at you, “who are we pushing in first?”

“You,” you smile.

Alias spreads his arms, inviting you. “I’d love to see you try, babe.”

Glancing to his right, you subtly raise your brow at Jungkook who smiles back at you. In a split second, Alias is being lifted from the ground and tossed into the pool.

Sophia and you jump into the pool right after, surfacing close to Alias.

“I thought we were friends,” he laughs at Jungkook splashing water towards him. “Gosh, I forgot how whipped you are.”

Jungkook just laughs and shrugs. “Sorry, man,” is all he says.

“You getting in?” Sophia asks Lawrence as she joins you next to the pool, dipping your toes first.

He nods. “I guess.” He glances around looking at the empty surroundings. This top deck is pretty big considering it’s wholly private.

“What?” Alias holds out his arms. “We’re not good enough for you?” he jokes.

“Of course you are,” Lawrence says before he shrugs, lips curving into a smile. “I just think with all this space, we could do something more.”

“Oh.” Sophia raises her brows, intrigued. “Like what?”

She speaks for all of you as you all look at him.

“I risk sounding like a five year old,” he says with a small laugh, “but how about hide and seek.” He looks around again. “We’re on a ship, we’ve got plenty of hiding spaces.”

The rest of you glance at each other and it’s clear that you’re all in agreement.

Alias jumps out of the pool. “Alright, but it’s hide and seek chase.” He grabs a towel and dries himself off. “I’m it first,” he adds with a devilish smile.

“Even better,” Lawrence says, pleased that everyone is on board. “Are we splitting up or staying together?”

“I’ll go with Y/N,” Jungkook says, approaching your side as you get up from the side of the pool. The air is chilly to your wet skin but you quickly warm up as Jungkook helps you pat dry.

“I’ll stay with Lawrence,” Sophia says, walking over to his side.

“Alright let’s stick to the top two decks when hiding, but if I’m chasing you, we can go anywhere,” Alias says, pulling on a linen tee.

“Where’s the base?” you ask, covering yourself up too.

“Here?” Sophia proposes.

“Or only inside the pool,” Jungkook adds to the suggestion with a shrug.

Lawrence nods in agreement, as do the rest of you.

“Alright,” Alias smirks. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to count down, “one hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight…”

The rest of you bolt immediately knowing that 100 seconds with Alias will only be 50, if that.

Sophia doesn’t even wait for Lawrence’s confirmation before running in the direction she came from but he follows her anyway.

With a tight hold on your hand, Jungkook pulls you in the opposite direction, already running faster than you can keep up with.

“Slow down,” you laugh, squeezing his hand.

“C’mon,” he says without turning back and without slowing down. “We gotta get away first, he’s only gonna count to ten.”

Just as you suspected, even with the distance that’s been put between you already, you can hear Alias yell out for you all to hear.

“Ready or not, here I come.”

You’re just grateful there’s no cabins near here.

It feels like you’re running for a mile, starting outside before Jungkook takes you through a door and down multiple corridors and even two smaller staircases you had no idea existed. He’s slower now which comes and a relief to you, but you’re still panting from all the sprinting.

“Koo, where the hell are we going?” you ask, tugging on his hand to make him stop.minutes, you find yourself on a part of the ship you’ve never been to before.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” you say, not really caring about being lost because you’re just glad Jungkook stopped running.

“No, I’ve been here before.” Judging by the way he’s walking, it does seem like he knows where he’s going. “We’re near our cabin.”

“Really?” You look around, frowning at your surroundings. “I don’t recognise it.”

“Yep,” Jungkook takes your hand as he taps his pass on a door to go down a corridor which you still don’t recognise but from the smell, seems to be near the kitchen.

“Wait, Jungkook…” you pause, looking back at a small sign above where Jungkook tapped his card. Staff only. “How?” you ask in bewilderment.

Jungkook just pulls you forward with a smug look on his face “Alias gave it to me. He got one for himself and Alex too.”

Of course he did. “He’s trying to get us kicked off, I swear.”

“It’s just for a little fun,” Jungkook grins. “Besides, this way, we can win the game.”

“Yeah, except Alias can get in here too then.”

Coming to a split in the corridor, Jungkook stops. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles. “Well,

“Hey!”

Jungkook and you both turn on the spot to the sound of a voice from ahead of you. It’s a member of staff, the same one from the night Alias and Jungkook jumped in the pool. He seemed pretty mad at the time and seeing his expression now as he starts walking towards you, he seems the same. You don’t blame him, he was chasing you guys for the better part of ten minutes.

“Run?” Jungkook whispers, his fingers clasping yours tightly.

“Run,” you nod.

Before you know it, your legs are moving as Jungkook leads you down the closest corridor.

“Hey! Stop!”

You almost feel bad about running away, but at the same time, you know that the guy is only trying to stop you to feed whatever power trip he’s on, so you keep running as fast as you can to try to keep up with Jungkook.

“Do you know where you’re going?” you huff, looking over your shoulder.

The guy is right behind you.

“No,” Jungkook laughs, slowing down as he sees a corridor to his right.

“Keep going,” you laugh too, pulling him down the corridor before the guy can catch up.

“Oi, I said stop!” he yells.

“What d’you think, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, though he shows no sign of stopping. “Should we listen to him?”

“Never,” you respond, glancing back again. He seems to be slowing down but you don’t stop yet. This time, you take the lead and go down a smaller corridor which you realise leads to a staircase.

“Up,” Jungkook ushers you, letting you go first. Luckily it;s a short one and Jungkook comes up close behind you.

“Left or right?” you ask, glancing down the corridor. The left leads to a door which heads outside, the right leads to a door which seems to hide a dimly lit corridor.

Jungkook takes your hand again, going left. As he pushes the door open, you hear the guy is still coming close behind you. “Stop,” he yells.

You’re honestly surprised he’s still chasing you but you’re also tired now and really just want to stop. “Koo, I think I have asthma,” you breathe out, feeling your steps slow down.

Jungkoook chuckles, looking back at you. “Y/N, we’ve been through this before, you don’t have asthma.”

You would pout because you know he’s righ and you still want to stop but you also don’t want that guy to catch up to you.

Still, Jungkook glances around while jogging as though he’s looking for something. “Ah, there!”

You’re too tired to ask what, only letting Jungkook lead you across the deck to a door which takes you back inside. As you enter, you see the staff still coming behind you. Gosh, he’s bothered. After only a few yards, Jungkook uses the staff pass to open a door on your right. Inside is a small room with a few shelves lining the walls and one big one in the middle; it’s full of rescue equipment.

“What the hell, Koo?” you laugh, letting him take you inside as he closes the door quickly.

He takes you to hide behind the biggest shelf in the middle of the room. With your back pressed against it, he stands close in front of you so he can still see the door.

When you look up at him, you see a massive grin on his face and that mischievous gleam in his eyes that you love.

“You’re crazy,” you murmur, restraining a laugh.

“Shh,” he whispers, placing his hand beside your head as he takes the smallest step closer, one that’s enough for you to feel the warmth of his breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you.

The sensation makes you fall quiet anyway and you’re sure that even if you did speak, no one from outside would be able to hear you, but you’re rather enjoying the feeling of having him this close to you. The smell of his perfume – your favourite – fills you with every heavy inhale as you catch your breath too, and suddenly, you find this feeling familiar.

That damned Jungkook effect.

Since you’re stuck here hiding for a few moments, you can do nothing but just embrace it as it comes. Apparently you’re embracing it a little too much as you don’t realise your eyes close and your head slowly moves closer to his chest. It just feels so good being this close to him – feeling his warmth, smelling him… his body is so close to yours, you wonder what would happen if you just took another step forward and–

“You okay there?” Jungkook’s voice comes out low with a humorous lilt.

‘“Hm?” Your eyes go wide as you realise your head was resting on his chest. “Sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling your cheeks go warm. “I’m tired, it’s late.”

“Mhm, that’s okay.”

Looking up, you see the mischievous gleam in his eyes has changed to something playful.

“You can use me as a pillow anytime,” he adds with a wink.

Scoffing, you poke him in the chest. “Well I gotta put these pecs to use somehow.”

He laughs quietly before poking his head out to the side. “Come on, I think he’s gone and we’ve got a game to get back to.”

You follow him to the door and find the corridor empty, thankfully. “Alias has probably already found the other guys.”

“That would make us the winners.”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get back to base first.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jungkook pauses, looking around. “Where is the base from here?”

“Um…” Stopping beside him, you look around too. It’s hard to tell when it’s dark but there’s some parts of the deck which look familiar to you. “I think we keep going forward.”

“Actually, I think we’ve passed the way up.”

“What?” you frown, looking up confused.

“Well the pool was at one of the top decks and there’s one way up which we missed, no?”

“I don’t think so.”

Jungkook looks down at you, his brows raised. “Really?”

“Really,” you say, taking his hand to tug him along, except he doesn’t move. When you look back at him, you see he’s got his brows raised with a smile, one that only spells a challenge.

“Oh, c’mon, Koo,” you sigh.

He shrugs before swinging your hand. “Let’s see who gets there first then,” he says in a sing-songy voice.

“Fine,” you shrug, already turning away from him. “Just be careful Alias doesn’t get you on your way.”

“I’ll be fine, just look out for yourself,” he responds as he already starts skipping back the other way.

Shaking your head, you turn back to look at your surroundings. You’re sure there’s a small staircase somewhere near here that you’re supposed to go up which should be close to the pool. It’s when you’re glancing around now that you realise it’s actually quite scary being alone on an empty deck late at night with no company but the sea.

Taking a few steps back, you look down the way you came to see if Jungkook might still be there but of course he’s not – he’s probably running to make sure he gets back before you.

Sighing, you continue down the path that seems familiar to you, only to hear a small bang from somewhere in front of you. Immediately, you’re relieved to see Lawrence coming around the corner ahead of you.

He smiles when he sees you. “Hey,” he says, voice hushed.

“Hey,” you answer, looking behind him. “Was that bang you?”

He looks back, confused for a split second before he nods. “Oh, yeah, I just jumped down the last few steps when I was coming down.”

“Right. Where’s Alias and Sophia?”

“Well Alias tried to get me just a little while ago but I lost him,” he says, looking proud of himself before he frowns. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“We split up,” you answer with a smug smile. “He thinks the base is back this way.” You point in the direction that he went in. “But I know it’s this way.” You point in the opposite direction.

Lawrence chuckles, looking at you somewhat endearingly though it goes unnoticed by you. “Uh, Y/N, it’s the other way.”

“Huh?” you frown, looking back. “Really?”

“Yep,” he nods, hiding an amused smile. “I can show you the way if you like?”

Sighing in defeat, you agree to go with him. “It’s not like I have any chances of beating him now.”

“Ah,” Lawrence sighs as he falls into stride beside you. “Still got the competitive streak I see?”

“Me?” you laugh quietly, glancing at him.

“Mhm, you,” he says matter-of-factly, still sporting a smile.

Looking at him now, you note how relaxed and care-free he seems. You’re not sure whether it’s because his usually swept back hair is now falling freely, or if it’s because of the glow on his face from the light sheen of sweat from the humidity of the evening air. It’s nice to see him like this, even the smile is a difference – growing up he always seemed so mysterious and quiet which no doubt had to do with the pressure he faced as an only child and a big family name to live up to.

“Well, it’s good you remember. I won’t be losing today either,” you say with a playful nudge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he laughs. “If we bump into Alias, I’m ditching you fast.”

“I hope so, you’re dead weight to me.”

“Hey!” He nudges you back as he still laughs, loosely running his hand through his hair.

“Mm, remember when we were kids?” you say, suddenly reminiscing. “We used to do this stuff all the time.”

Lawrence nods. “I do,” he says with a smile. “There was one Christmas, we all went up to that chalet in… oh, where was it?” he frowns, looking at you. “Courchevel?”

“Hm…” You shake your head as it rings a bell. “I don’t think so, there was only one year we celebrated Christmas abroad all together and it wasn’t in France.”

“Switzerland?”

“Yes!” You say, pointing your finger at him as you suddenly remember the finer details of the trip. “At St Moritz, we had that massive suite at Kempinski.”

“That's the one,” Lawrence says with a smile matching yours. “D’you remember those nights we would always want to go out but our parents never let us? So we used to run around hiding from them.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I remember Leon and Helena would get so mad, even I was scared of them but their own kids never even cared.”

“My parents got mad too but we still did it every night,” Lawrence laughs, his walk slowing down as the two of you approach the bow. “I wonder how he were so brave,” he continues, “I bet it was Alias’s idea, all the fun stuff was always his idea.”

“Mm, actually, I think it was yours,” you say, tilting your head towards him.

“Really?” Lawrence questions, brow raised as he walks closer to the ledge overlooking the tranquil evening sea though you can’t actually see much besides a distant glittering coastline.

“Mhm, really,” you nod, coming to stand beside him.

Lawrence turns so he’s facing you, a thoughtful expression on his face but his lips are still curved in a smile as they have been this whole time. “I’m surprised you remember.”

You shrug. “I remember a lot of things.”

Lawrence opens his mouth as though to say something before closing it.

“What?” you ask, turning to face him too.

He shakes his head. “I was about to ask something but it’s probably gonna sound stupid.”

“Stupid questions are my favourite to answer,” you say with a smile.

He arches a brow, his smile changing to something more timid. “D’you remember a lot about me or just everything in general?”

You laugh, not having expected that. Lawrence isn’t really the conceited type so you don’t think it’s coming from a place of vanity, and the shy hesitancy he says it with almost makes him seem cute — like he wants you to say him.

“Both I guess,” you answer honestly.

He laughs too, one that reminds you of the days you spent daydreaming about him. It feels almost nostalgic, certainly not the same. If this was a few years ago you might’ve gotten butterflies from just hearing that laugh but now you only feel happy to see him letting his guard down and smiling which is a rare occurrence with him.

“Are you surprised?” you ask.

“Well, yeah,” he says, still with a shyness. “I thought I just went unnoticed in school.”

“Unnoticed? You were without a doubt one of the most popular guys in school.”

He shrugs. “Never felt like it.”

You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, because imagine being the one to receive almost 100 cards on Valentine’s Day every year, not to mention the endless notes in your lockers.”

“Ah,” Lawrence laughs softly. “Okay I see your point.” He glances towards you. “Never got one from you though.”

“I was too shy,” you say, trying to hide the truth a little with a tone of sarcasm.

“Probably would’ve said yes if it was from you,” he says with a playful smirk.

“Thanks for telling me this late,“ you laugh. “But wait…” You look at him in amusement, having just processed some of what he’s said. “So you’re telling me you had no idea that I had a crush on you in school?!”

Confusion is the first and only emotion you manage to catch on Lawrence’s face, the rest passing in a second. “I had no idea!” he says, half laughing while still in what can only be surprise. “You liked me?” He looks at you and you notice a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks.

“For a long time,” you laugh. “Though I don’t know why, you never paid me much attention until college.”

Lawrence doesn’t skip a beat when answering. “I had to! I’m two years older than you, any attention I wanted to give you throughout school might’ve just caused problems and I didn’t want that for you.”

“Well, how thoughtful of you to not want me to be the subject of stupid rumours, meanwhile I was left to pine over you,” you say somewhat sarcastically but still humourful. “If only I knew that you were being so considerate…” only now do you realise exactly what it is that Lawrence has just said… “Hang on.” You pause, brows creasing as you turn to look at him. “You what?”

Lawrence suddenly hesitates, timidly. “I had a thing for you,” he mumbles after a few seconds.

“You did?”

“Mhm, for a while. It’s always been there… still is.”

Your head is reeling… you could’ve had Lawrence. You still could have Lawrence – he’s telling you as much – but…

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask softly, still dumbfounded.

“I wanted to,” he admits with a small smile, just about managing to look at you now. “Your first year of college, but you seemed so carefree and I didn’t wanna be the older guy tying you down. Even though it’s just one year, everyone has fun in first year so I wanted you to have that too.” He purses his lips before releasing a small breath as he looks away.

“I wouldn’t have cared about that,” you say quietly with a laugh.

To your relief, Lawrence laughs too, albeit awkwardly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I tried again in my last year, your third.” He glances at you before shrugging. “I don’t think you cared for it though.”

It’s easy to remember what he’s talking about now — there’s no way you wouldn’t remember all the times Lawrence tried to shoot his shot with you, especially because you could never figure out why you denied it to him and yourself.

Lawrence continues in your moment of silence. “I always thought it was because of Jungkook.”

All the thoughts come to a standstill in your mind…

“Now I know I was right,” Lawrence says with a wistful smile.

Is this your answer? The reason you never wanted to pursue Lawrence even after having a crush on him for so long — because of Jungkook?

It’s even crazier to you that right now, it doesn’t seem so bizarre.

Jungkook has always felt right. Maybe you do care about him in more ways than you realised, maybe everything Lawrence is saying is true, and maybe everything Alex has been saying for months now is true. There’s obviously a reason you’ve started to feel differently around him, not to mention you’re always finding any and every excuse to be with him.

Lawrence continues, unaware of the thoughts unravelling in your head. “I just wish I’d had the courage to say something sooner, but it’s my fault.” He takes a step closer and the feeling of his hand brushing yours draws you back into this moment.

Looking up, you meet his gaze to see soft eyes and furrowed brows.

“Now it’s all out there though,” he says in a voice quiet enough to be a whisper, “I have to know…”

His eyes search yours and he hesitates for a brief moment before you feel his fingers lace between yours. “It is too late, right?”

note. please interact with all parts and share your thoughts with me! <3 part 2 here

#jjk #jungkook x reader #jungkook bts #jungkook fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook best friends to lovers #bts fic #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook oneshot

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seraphdreams · 10 months ago

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SMILE, YOU'RE ON CAMERA. | YUUTA OKKOTSU.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. when taking care of your university finances proves troublesome, the universe grants you your very own savior. but it’s gonna cost you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, college au!yuuta / bimbo reader (obvi), filming, lots of porn references… a lot, virginity loss, praise, oral n fingering, slight obsession, pussydrunk yuuta, unprotected love making, yuuta’s rich and unsettling. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 5.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! omg, yuuta? i meant to have this out a few weeks ago but got caught in a little writing slump :( nevertheless, here’s to a new year and a new fic! yuuta’s been slowly creeping his way up my favs list , tehe !! as always, please reblog / comment if you enjoyed this , it’ll fill me with joy. thank u ♡

you’re a pornstar.

albeit, an amateur one with heaps to learn regarding the ruthless industry, but the weight still stands.

the details in which you came to the jarring conclusion were muddled with the convoluted steps that it took for you to get there, murky in your bubblegum-filled mind. all you knew was that yuuta okkotsu was a force, a gentle one, to be reckoned with.

it must’ve played out once you returned to your campus dorm beyond the dusk of midnight, under an unmitigating fatigue from the twelve hour waitressing shift just prior. through abhorrent patrons and the lack of a spendable paycheck, the excruciatingly long night barely made you enough money to even think about buying those dollish pumps you’ve been yearning for. how cruel.

in between working and haphazardly handing your earnings over to university fees and textbooks, you just couldn’t seem to make ends meet.

you would curse the day you took it upon yourself to branch away financially from your parents under the guise of growing up, since now it’d be a blessing to have even a cellphone bill paid off. whatever the issue seemed to be, lady luck was truly never bothered enough to be on your side.

fortunately for you, though, it was that same arduous night, you had been huddled against your stuffed animals in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various social media apps on your phone; switching from sites like instagram and twitter to youtube then right back to instagram all over again, only to be met with an offer dusted in pink glitter that caught your eye as if it were made for you.

“stars needed — will pay upfront.”

it was a shoddy story post, one that could be clicked past and forgotten forever — yet, a brisk reminder of your situation in the form of borrowed, used textbooks with pages missing or vandalized, and today’s horoscope that said to take risks; you did exactly that, aiming a swipe up that would ultimately rid you of the worries of yesterday.

there were no reasons as to why you couldn’t be a star. certainly, you had the face for it, and you were told by multiple charmers that you were beyond beguiling to get anything you could ever ask for. what dismay could possibly unfold from contacting .. yuuta okkotsu .. about his offer?

hm, that’s funny. the name rang familiarity as it seeded in your mind.

must be one of yuuji’s friends.

itadori yuuji, your best friend of three years now. out of all the time you’d spent together, you came to realize that he could get along with anyone, despite their true intentions. he spoke highly of his friends as well, which earned him a sacred spot in your heart that couldn’t be replaced by anyone.

itadori had briefly mentioned in a ramen-fueled frenzy that one of his peers were “so insanely talented” and that you’d definitely get on with him. but when you asked for validity on that vague claim, all yuuji seemed to respond with was a mere “just meet him, you’ll see.”

from your recollection, the acquaintance he was boasting about, as if it was his own personal victory, was none other than your yuuta okkotsu. he was meek, stuck to a close-knit friend group consisting of maki and toge from your physics class, and the one time you ever spoke to him was to ask about yuuji’s whereabouts, to which he responded that he went back to his dorm after gojo-sensei’s lecture.

he seemed, normal. average, even. that surely had to be the case since your memory was hazy on his being otherwise.

it was true, though, yuuta was gifted. in a way that transcended words, skillful towards visual aesthetics, and careful with the craft. he would spend most of his freetime fumbling with a camera or recording the works of the mundane. overtly, he’d grown such a strong passion in the field of videography in hopes to capture the reality of humanity, the authenticity within intimacy — what could he possibly need a “star” for?

shadiness aside, you were in a tough spot, willing to do whatever to free yourself from the financial burden that was jujutsu technical university. with a swift swipe in tandem with the soft tapping of the pads of your thumbs on the keyboard, you were taking yuuta up on his offer.

within seconds, he responded back with his address and an appropriate meet-up date to start the project.

if only you were aware of how drastically your life would change from here on out.

a cluster of days had passed since you last got into contact with yuuta. he had told you to meet him at his place, claiming it would be more efficient than traveling to an unnamed destination with pounds of heavy photography equipment.

where you stood currently, was in front of the bare oak of his front door, hand wrapped in a loose fist as you knocked gently on the wood. a quick moment had passed by before you took initiative to raise your fist and knock once more. before your touch could meet the wood, a muffled “coming!” chimed beyond the door. from what you had heard on the other side; the scuttling behind the door and jingle of the lock, yuuta had opened the door soon after.

with his hand rubbing away the goosebumps that stood at the back of his neck, he beamed. cordially, warmly.

“you’re actually here. hi,”

upon first glance, yuuta had a distinct look. he stood tall, not tall enough to matter or incite intimidation, and although he wore a black button-up (a bit formal for an occasion as casual as today), his lean build shone through under the thin fabric, ripples of veins dancing up his forearms. what you couldn’t miss, however, were the grey eyebags under his emotionless navy orbs, as if he’d forgone weeks of sleep.

yuuta okkotsu was unsettling.

“hi,” your voice sounded as a sweet croon, dulcet enough that you could barely hear it yourself as it escaped in a breathy breeze. his smile grew softer in response, that monotonous gaze in his eyes fizzling away into something of serenity. “come in, please,” yuuta held the door open wider for you to tread past, caught up in observing the bunch of fabric that hugged tightly around your ass, then closed it gently behind you once you stepped completely inside. he silently cursed at himself for ogling — he truly didn’t mean to stare. you’re just a lot prettier up close. “i was just getting set up. you can have a seat if you’d like.”

as you’d expect from any guy your age, his place wasn’t much to gaze at, nor did it have much personality. in a corner to your right was a houseplant, that of the fern variety, and a few steps deeper into the abode was the living room, where yuuta resumed his fumbling with the transfiguration of his tripod.

you decided to sit on the couch across from him, taking in the bleak sight of his home. you would have almost believed it was unlived in had it not been for the scattered midterm review papers decorating his coffee table. it was obvious he had money from the endless rows of space that surrounded the two of you, although a candle or something would be nice.

he peered away from his tripod to look through the viewfinder of his camera, ensuring that the lens was functioning properly. he grew pleased to see the image of you distracted in fiddling with your thumbs reflected back at him. “are you nervous?” his gaze fell upon you through his own eyes, a concerned expression harboring his features.

you were pulled out of your muse of unfamiliarity to direct your attention to the sound of his mild voice, returning a smile to his that eased the worriment trapped behind dull, blue eyes. “n-not really, i don’t think.”

his lips curled up once more at that, in fact there wasn’t a time so far that you hadn’t noticed him without his signature smile. “here, let me help with that,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen before ultimately turning it back off and settling it back into its place in his pocket.

your phone vibrated beside you, screen lighting up with a bold alert.

[YUUTA OKKOTSU SENT $1000]

before you had a chance to even process the significance of the notification, he started back up,

“i hope i got the right information, wouldn’t want your hard work to get in the wrong hands.” the tilt of his head in tandem with a chuckle resonated sheepishly, and he returned to watch you through his camera lens.

he was right. the money did soothe your nerves.

“i’ve barely done anything yet.” a ditzy giggle followed soon after your sentence, a sound that yuuta couldn’t possibly ignore. you were already starting to pull at his heartstrings.

“and you’ve done it so perfectly,” his praise left you flustered in that moment and you bit down softly on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. “thank you, yuuta.”

you would’ve never guessed that your introverted classmate had enough experience in him to be such a flirt, or have your cheeks heating up with fervid affection, no less. but maybe yuuta was just like that; maybe this had been natural.

“no, thank you.” his thumb hovered over the record button just as his eyes met your gaze over the brim of the camera. “would you like to start now?”

he took the nod of your head as confirmation to press the record button, finally getting started with the project.

you blinked blankly at him as he tilted his head and flashed a warmhearted grin. “how old are you?” was his first question. he had asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. as he did so, you took notice of the silver ring donned around his finger.

he couldn’t have been married, no?

keeping your answer as vague as possible for the sake of matching his comforting warmth, you responded, “twenty-something.” he let out a satisfied huff of air as he nodded and moved onto his next query.

“and what’s your major?”

with the question barely having enough time to linger in the suggestively tense air, he added, “you’re very beautiful, by the way. do you mind taking your dress off for me?”

as much as it should’ve alarmed you, you were swayed by his toothachingly inviting timbre, its gentleness pulling compliancy from you in a matter of a few mere words. you only shook your head, forgoing the short piece of fabric that clung to each curve and dip of your body while your nipples hardened under the glacial, artificial breeze of his home. once the silk pooled at your hips, that, along with your panties were dropped onto the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable under the camera — and yuuta’s watchful eye.

he swallowed thickly at the sight, remaining as respectful as he could despite the monster growing in his pants; his eyes locked right back onto yours as if he’d get striked down for moving them even a millimeter south. “are you a virgin?” he queried, opting to move his hand from awkwardly at his side to fidgeting with the button at his shirt, ultimately undoing it and revealing another inch of skin at his heated chest.

from the nature of what you had signed yourself up for, you were hesitant to answer his question. of course you needed experience to be a star, and with you lacking the preconceived ability, you could kiss your $1000 goodbye..

yet he looked at you with an expectant gaze. no traces of malice in his eyes or frustration from your quick witted silence, but merely, with patience. and in that moment you couldn’t find it within yourself to lie.

“i am,” out of shame, you curled in on yourself, hoping that the sofa would engulf you, and your feelings, crossing your arms over your bare chest as if it’d create a wall of privacy behind your own humiliation. “is that okay?”

yuuta’s being only grew warmer at the response, you figured he’d be hot to the touch by now, from searing pleasure or unshakeable cordiality, you wouldn’t know. “yeah, that’s okay,” it came out breathier than he would’ve liked, a telltale sign of his aching desire. “that’s more than okay.”

truth be told, he had never met anyone as enchanting as you. you looked up at him with such trust in your eyes that it daunted him — fear that the assurance he wielded from you would shatter beneath him, and he’d be drowning. in a sea of his own wistfulness. now that he had you, he couldn’t let you go.

you were on to make a breathtaking star.

now feeling less coy than before, you relaxed your head into the palm of yuuta’s hand. you hadn’t noticed how long he’d been stroking at your cheek, or when he closed the vexing proximity between the two of you, all that mattered in that moment was the roll of his gentle vocables flowing through your ears and the thumb of his that graciously caressed your cheek.

you came to realize that he was much more handsome this way as your eyes toured his own, then down to the sliver of sweat-sheened skin peeking from underneath the black veil of his shirt, then down to his…

he’s so fucking hard.

confined against his slacks was his cock that leaked an ample amount even while it was untouched. you could make out its silhouette, something girthy, perhaps heavy, but nothing like you’d expect from yuuta. uncharacteristically huge.

“yuuta.” you whispered, mainly to yourself, as your mouth began to water at the sight, and his cheeks dusted pink once he realized what you were fixated upon.

“do you wanna,” he started up but faltered soon after when your lidded gaze flitted back up towards his. never had he felt so weak before, it was as if you’d casted a spell on him. “do you maybe want to—” he paused to avert his own gaze and embarrassment. “—put it in your mouth?”

he could’ve sworn he heard the increase of his heartbeat in his ears when you crinkled your brows, pretty face forming into an even prettier pout.

“but i’ve never—”

he stopped you before you could start, interjecting his own voice of reassurance.

“it’s okay. i’ll guide you,” taking his camera off its stand and moving the rest of the configuration elsewhere, he held it in one hand to better capture the scene unfolding before him. “just try your best for me, okay?”

“okay.” when he returned your concern with a small smile, you took it upon yourself to undo the arrangement of his pants, carefully hooking your finger into the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulling down just enough for his length to spring free.

for what felt like minutes, you marveled at his sheer size, wondering how anyone of his nature could possibly be hiding something like that. it curved upwards with a prominent vein or two running up the underside while it continued to leak, so much so, that you had to collect it all at the tip with your finger.

the tip? flushed the prettiest pink you’d ever witnessed and was as bulbous as it was mushroomed, you knew you’d have a bit of difficulty trying to fit into your mouth. it seemed to twitch under the fanning of your breath to which yuuta let out a whine of pure impatience.

“can i..?” your words trailed off when you involuntarily found yourself pressing chaste kisses along the length of his cock until they met with his sticky tip; a recreated scene from the various porn videos you’d seen. the sensation sent a jolt of palpable pleasure through his being, yuuta’s dark hair curtaining over his eyes while he made a damn good attempt at silencing his moans, with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.

your eyes kept watch at his wavering expression while you wrapped your hand at the base of his length and began to pump slowly, yet another thing you had learned through the fascinating world of porn.

“suck it,” it was clear to you that yuuta had grown desirously impatient from your teasing, looking down at you with a hint of hunger in his beautiful orbs. “please?”

you took his words as an incentive to finally give him what he’s been leaking for, wrapping gloss-sheened lips around the thick inches of his tip, accommodating for the stretch with a dulcet whine that reverberated deeply within him. had you not been caught up in building the gradual bob of your head, he would’ve kissed you, left you with smeared lips and a tongue that ached for only him upon seeing the sinful sight of innocent eyes fixated on his own. you’re beautiful. truly, to die for.

caught all on tape to be watched over and over again.

at the bliss, yuuta’s lip parted open, alotting for a slur of groans turned whimpers to tumble past. “you- you’re already doing, so good.” he praises, the words floating on his breath. his free hand finds itself back at your face, thumbing the warmth of your hallowed cheek while he captured the moment behind his lens. once you came to a comfortable rhythm, you couldn’t stop yourself from dipping your fingers between your thighs to ease the evergrowing ache in your core. in fact, you’d been like this since the moment yuuta spoke a word to you, lightheaded and malleable — what he’s beginning to love most about you.

your digits collected slick at your entrance, the immeasurable amount of essence that you’d pool providing ample leeway for you to sink three fingers inside, pumping at the same rhythm in which you’re sucking yuuta. soft fingertips curling against your gummy walls weren’t enough, though, and when he had caught notice of your weakening resolve, his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth.

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” he began, with a choked moan. “just- so close, so fucking close. c-can you take me in deeper?”

the hum of assurance that sounded from you sent vibrations coursing through his cock, from tip to base. had you not been preoccupied with chasing your own high, you would’ve missed the pitchy moan he let out just after. with your palm now pressed up against your clit while you worked in tandem to pleasure the nub and your greedy hole, you attempted to swallow another stubborn inch of him.

simultaneous with the bobbing of your head, he matched your pace, abdomen flexing when the white-hot pleasure became too much and he could feel it in his ears. he wanted so badly to throw his head back, completely lose himself in bliss, but he had a job to do. he wouldn’t dare let the sight of your glassy lidded eyes and glossy lips struggling to wrap themselves around the stretch of his dick go unfilmed, unseen.

as his tip continued to prod the back of your throat and your fingers aided you in relieving the discomfort from your cunt, you found yourself just dangling off the dangerous edge of your release, strokes away from making a mess — and yuuta did too.

it wasn’t long until his head started spinning, legs got weaker, and his core coiled tighter; all the signs of a mindblowing orgasm, and blew his mind, you did. “baby- y/n, if you keep doing that- i might cum.” what he was referring to was the way you fondled his balls in the warmth of your soft hands, yet another trick you had learned from porn. “i don’t wanna cum in your mouth but if you—,”

a jumbled slew of curses flowed from his lips as he did the inevitable, shot his load deep down your throat, gently thrusting his cock in shallow strokes to jettison every last remaining drop. the taste on your tongue was nothing like you’d be warned of before. yuuta wasn’t bitter, he went down easy.

hell, you’d use his cum as a condiment for desserts if you could.

in a matter of moments, your own high had washed over you like cold water over a heated body, much needed and refreshing. once he hesitantly pulled out from the heat of your mouth, cock still hard and twitching for more, he gently pushed back strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“can i see?”

you held out your cream-slickened fingers, sopping with your juices as yuuta proceeded to catch how they dripped on camera. he then took your palm, with the cadence of a knight kissing the back of a princess’s hand, and slipped the soiled digits into his mouth. his tongue lavved around your index and middle fingers while he hummed satisfactorily at your taste. “you’re just as sweet as i imagined.” he smiled, finding amusement in your post-orgasmic, dazed state.

“do you do this with a lot of other girls, yuuta?” you queried, taking the time to scan your eyes over his face. it was as if he seemed to get more attractive as your time with him went on. he tilted his head slightly, finding your question endearing. “you’re my first, actually.” yuuta responded softly, as if his normal speaking voice would be too heavy on your delicate ears.

you jumped at the chance to tease him as he did you, placing your thumb back over the slit of his hard-on and lightly rubbing; which resonated within yuuta as a tonal mewl. a little smile pulled at your lips when you got your perfect reaction. “can you be my first?”

“i’d love to be,” he took your request with unadulterated honor as if he’d been tasked by the deities above to serve you. “just- just lay back for me. i promise i’ll take good care of you.”

and that you did; conforming to his call of request with such compliance it made his heart swell. you had positioned your body to rest languidly against the seat of the sofa, shaky legs hesitant to spread fully while your hand roamed up your sternum to find solace in kneading your tits.

he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked, laid out for him as such. how had he been so lucky to be the only one to have the opportunity to marvel at the scene? with a steady hand, he faintly trails his hand up the expanse of your inner thigh, a silent beckon for you to open your legs wider. involuntarily so, your body had accepted his presence and allowed for the spreading of your thighs.

what you’d come to notice with yuuta was that he was watchful, observant. he seemed to pick up on every detail, even the minuscule bits that were most likely to fly over anyone else’s head, had been taken into account. it’s probably why he’s immensely proficient at what he does. not once had he allowed himself to miss the labored heaving of your chest, or the sheen of sweat thinly coating your body — the twitching of your clit when he stroked featherlight touches at the nub. he couldn’t call himself a true cameraman then.

his fingers had collected remnants of your previous orgasm before they worked in tandem, both middle and ring, to prod at your sensitive hole, slowly sinking themselves in. it was almost embarrassing how quickly your greedy cunt swallowed him in, as if it’d been waiting for his touch for years now. “y-yuuta, ‘m still sensitive.” you crooned in response to his digits exploring your cavern, plush walls gripping him with such tautness that he’d found it difficult to even curl his fingers.

his own mind spun (and cock leaked) at the thought of that same warmth around his length, and when you called his name, all he could think about was how pretty you’d sound moaning it. he wouldn’t mind if you were sonorous, if the neighbors would hear, if inumaki who lived downstairs would come knocking with a mouthful of complaints, if the whole world knew his name; because in that moment, yuuta okkotsu was yours.

yuuta okkotsu was in love.

after some shallow pumping, enough to have your legs attempting to enclose around his arm, yuuta had pulled his digits out and replaced the lost sensation with the fat tip of his cock stroking your slit up and down.

“i’m gonna put it in, okay? if you want me to stop, tell me. if i'm going too fast or slow, let me know.”

he perused your face for a hint of an answer, seemingly nothing going on behind your vacant, large eyes. your initial response was curt, an ode to the simplistic nature of your mind. “mhm.”

how endearing you were to him, just a unadorned reaction weakening his being, causing his heart to figuratively crumble within its confines against his ribcage. he had searched for a heartier answer, something tangible to hold on to, because, lord knows how terrible he’d feel if he took your indication the wrong way. “can you be vocal for me, please?”

you nodded your head. “i’ll let you know, yuuta.”

with a carefulness that only came from the most benign of beings, he had sunken the first inch of himself into your awaiting heat.

he was paused when your hand dashed to his lower abdomen, futilely pressing against the skin.

“wait—” you huffed wantonly. “—‘s too big.”

his eyes wavered with concern, hidden under the veil of pure arousal. in yuuta’s case he had dreamed of a compliment as self fulfilling as yours, for his thoughts of being average were shattered upon first inch. “should i stop?”

you shook your head, reveling in the light of his attentivity towards you and your body. “no,” you moved your hand from his abdomen. “don’t stop.”

one of his arms rested beside your head, helping to prop him up over your body while he dropped his head down to watch the way your bodies connected. gradually, the sight of his length slowly sinking inside, stretching you out further and further until he was in to the hilt flooded his vision. yuuta had caught on to your labored gasps, merely growing harder from your honeyed voice like music to his ears.

he then lifted his head, strands of inky, out-of-place tresses falling over his face and partially covering the depth of lingering eyes, that lingered for a second too long, causing that shuddering sensation you had once felt when you first met him to reappear. he held his camcorder beside his face, an all too cheerful grin masked over his features. “i’m all in!”

creepy.

there was no doubt that you hadn’t felt full. he practically spilled over with how much girth he possessed and throbbed innately within your walls. the swell of your tummy from just how deep he was, was enough to tear away at his composure and drag his length back before driving his hips in at a force unrecognizable to him. the yelp you had let out from his eager thrust dwindled into a blissful moan. “sorry, so sorry.” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the faultless assortment of breathtaking features that was your face, eyebrows creased together, parted lips and eyes squeezed closed as if you’d been focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.

his next thrust stroked softer than its predecessor, having no remnants of eagerness but instead, the nuance of a man that’d been simply smitten.

the meticulousness of his ministrations coursed through your body wondrously, each push and pull lathered in lust, savored to be remembered for the rest of his time on earth. it was as if he’d known your body for years, knew every dip and fold, every swell and mast, aware of what exactly it took to leave your body hungry for his touches.

you’d grown comfortable in the pace at which he set, your mind hazing over each time the blunt tip grazed along your gspot. he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your sternum, the fanning of his warm breath against your chest doing the minimum in stiffening the peaks of your breasts. shootable footage forgotten, yuuta took your mound into his mouth, teeth gently rolling against your nipple which caused you to tighten around his cock in response, the sweetest mewl he’s ever heard from you tumbling from your throat.

“at least take me on a date first, yuuta..” the wittiness of your voice had earned a stifled smile from him, finding utmost admiration in the suggestion. he’ll be sure to take you up on your offer, just as you had done for him.

when you felt the familiar coil within you starting to build up once more, you dipped your hand down to rub at your clit in tandem with the increasing vigor of his strokes. the sensation was all too foreign to you, too pleasurable that you couldn’t keep your sounds at bay. “‘m so close, g-gonna cum!” you had warned, yuuta pulled away from your tit with a soft pop. he chose to rest his head at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, mindlessly chanting the words like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you,” his pace faltered, growing sloppier by the second. “love you, love you so much.”

intoxicated by your heat, your scent, just you being you, and being so perfect — yuuta was pussydrunk. incredibly so. never in his life had he ever felt as high as you made him. you were an angel, sent to him from heaven, to defile and mark.

quickly, your release surged through you in torrents of ecstasy, nothing that you’ve experienced before, coating yuuta’s cock in the glorious essence of you. “cumming!” you cry, to no avail particularly since yuuta wasn’t wholeheartedly aware of the situation at hand. his mind was clouded with you, just as you were full of him, wincing in the aftershocks of your fervent orgasm and convulsing around his length with need.

it wasn’t long before his own ununified thrusts came to a sudden close, signifying the warm spurts of cum painting your insides, filling you entirely to the brim and leaking down your ass from riding out his high.

“god, i love you.” he whined, pressing faint kisses to your neck, unable to peel himself away from your fervid body. coming to your senses, his words finally resonated for you. “we only just met.”

he pulled himself up, opting to look down at your flushed face with a vague hint of confusion on his face as he tilted his head. “have we?”

“we have.” you nodded.

to yuuta, he’s known you his whole life. you were the light of his existence, the fire in his heart. had he managed to confuse you with someone else? surely, that wasn’t the case.

once he pulled out of you, he made sure to capture the moment that you leaked his seed on film, but in that time, borrowed jealousy had filled his soul. he couldn’t share the tape as he had planned, no one else deserved to see you in the same way he did. no one.

he tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you bare and oozing for just one second to fetch a warm wet rag to clean you up with. when he came back, you noticed just how chipper he’d gotten, if that were even possible. “you were amazing,” he smiled, gently wiping your folds pristine. “i’m so grateful you came to me.” the smile you returned matched his own, “thank you, you were- really good too.”

he perked up, eyes moving from between your thighs to your face. “really?” and when you nodded to him, you could see the apparent relief flow within his being. “you know,” he started. “i’m very interested in you.”

you tilt your head, jutting your lips in a cute pout. “interested, how?”

the camcorder that now resided on his coffee table, unpresumebly documenting the scene on display was picked up by yuuta, and turned off. he grinned softly, eyes shutting from his ear to ear smile.

“may i take you on a date?”

5K notes · View notes

byuntrash101 · 9 months ago

Text

big bad wolf

f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut

#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡

a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.

The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.

“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”

“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.

“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.

“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.”

It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.

“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”

Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears.

All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.

“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.

“Yeah I get it.”

Silence settled.

“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.

A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.

“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.

“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…

“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.

“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again.

***

Well maybe you couldn’t…

That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds.

“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.

He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.

The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.

“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Um, yeah a little bit I think”

Lie. Big fat lie.

Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.

“Perfect! Let’s get started then”

“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.

“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.

Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.

Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.

He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs.

“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.

He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.

“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud.

“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”

Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.

He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.

“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”

You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face.

“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.

“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours.

He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily.

“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”

As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.

“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board.

“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.

He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.

“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.

Thanks to Chris’ prepping, the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho.

Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.

“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.

“Ok” you huffed quietly.

You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared.

“You… can move”

Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in.

“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.

He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines.

“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in.

“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”

“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”

“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.

“Fuck I won’t last long baby”

“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there”

Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.

“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg”

“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath.

You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you.

“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew.

“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.

“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.

“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it”

“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”

It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.

“Yeah we should”

“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”

“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.

“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.

“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.

“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.

“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.

“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3

#bangchan smut #bangchan #christopher bang #skz smut #skz #stray kids #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan stray kids #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #kpop smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours

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euphorajeon · 7 months ago

Text

trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!

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megamindsecretlair · 17 days ago

Text

Make Me Weak, Part 1

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: Desperately at your absolute limit, you decide to see one last therapist to try and help with your condition. After one session, Dr. Richmond manages to put you at ease, giving you enough tools to start you on your journey. As the exploration continues, your true hope is that you don’t get burned.

Word Count: 4,648k

AO3 Link

A/N: Don't judge me for this chile. I saw that beautiful man in a black turtleneck with glasses and lost my marbles. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You

He came highly recommended. That was the only reason you were here. You’d stared at his pictures and read all of the available posts recommending him but you couldn’t get over the fact that he was so damn pretty. And intimidating.

But after going through nine different therapists, most who ended up as creeps or couldn’t help you, you were at your wit’s end. It was already embarrassing enough starting over with a brand new therapist, but this had to take the cake.

The hallway was quiet, with muted browns and reds. Supposedly academic, soothing colors. As if the darker the color, the less likely you were to think about anything sexual. You stared at the imposing brown door with his name embossed on a placard. Dr. Terry Richmond.

You bit your lip and stared at the slip in your hand with the referral scrawled across it. He took on special cases. Pathetic cases.

“Fuck this,” you said to yourself. You turned on your heel and stepped down the hallway. The door opened and the man himself looked down the hallway.

“Are you my two o’clock?” He asked. His deep baritone was unexpected. Soothing. Calming. Unnerving.

“Uh,” you sighed.

He continued to stare so you continued to stare back. He wore an all black outfit, right down to his black tennis shoes. He wore a long sleeved black T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Black, form fitting pants that only highlighted how tall he was. He had to be 6’1. Hell, possibly 6’3.

He cleared his throat, looking for an answer. Light refracted off of his frames, temporarily hiding his eyes. You gripped the straps of your purse and squared your shoulders. “Yes,” you said.

Dr. Richmond nodded his head and waved you inside. You walked behind him, feeling like you were walking to your doom. Inside his office, it was just as drab as outside.

Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed with medical texts and non-fictional books on powerful Black figures through history. The office was small, but clean, with a golden brown sofa pushed against a solid wall of taupe. He had a painting above the sofa, showing a serene ocean view with a boat out on the water.

Natural light filtered into the room from a window showcasing the cityscape outside. His office was high up in the building, letting you look down on all the people living their normal lives.

The door closed behind you and you jumped, whipping around to see Dr. Richmond leaning away from the door. He raised his hands. “I’m sorry, would you like it to remain open?” He asked.

You shook your head. Closed was preferable. You watched Dr. Richmond take his seat behind a massive desk, everything in a neat stack and in its proper place. He rolled forward and then opened a black folder, picking up a pen.

“Please, have a seat. Tell me about yourself,” he said.

“My thick ass file didn’t give me away? Sorry, I shouldn’t say ass. Sorry,” you said and winced after cussing so much. You pointed to a thick file on his desk and you knew without a doubt that it was yours.

It was crazy how you had a full record of your insanity, detailing how you started down this deep, dark path. Cataloged every doctor, every note, every nasty thought in your mind. Okay, you were being a little dramatic, but this was just so…embarrassing. And it didn’t help to have someone who looked like that hearing what you had to say.

“There’s no rules here. You want to say ass, go for it,” he said and shrugged.

You giggled, feeling more at ease. You nodded and took a seat on the sofa. There was a clear coffee table in front of it that held a zen garden complete with little trees, shiny rocks, and…were those Lego figures? You looked from it to him and he smirked, drawing your attention to his full, lush lips.

“Some people find it easier to occupy their hands during discussions. You can give it a try if you want,” he said.

You sat back on the sofa. Maybe later. You felt too awkward as is. Like you were some alien visitor testing out your disguise on the human population. You rubbed your sweaty palms on your leggings and shook your head. “What, uh, did my file say about me?”

Dr. Richmond shrugged and leaned back in his seat, fixing his thin gold glasses on his face. “Those are words and opinions from other doctors. I’d rather hear what you have to say,” he said and leaned back in his seat.

He was so…disarming in a way that allowed you to release the ironclad control you held on to. You picked at your nails and focused on that, rather than his stormy eyes. “I think I’m broken. And I’m not entirely sure why I’m even entertaining this,” you said.

“Why are you then?” He prompted.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Tired of feeling like a freak,” you said.

“A freak? Why would you use that term?” He asked.

You snuck a glance at him. He no longer held the pen. He rested his hands against his stomach, clasped, and just looked at you. Even that was different from all your other therapists combined.

“Because that’s what it feels like. Like I’m in a freak show. I–,” you stopped and licked your lips. But you were here now. May as well rip the bandaid off. “I can’t cum! And I know, it’s normal. I know plenty of people experience it. I know that women especially have a hard time doing it. But no matter what I fuckin’ try, I just can’t. I feel it coming, I know it’s coming, but then it sort of…goes away? And then I’m sitting there embarrassed that I can’t and when I’m with a partner, they pretend that it’s cool, but then I never hear from them again.”

You clicked your teeth shut as you realized you were rambling. You picked at a stiff hangnail, tugged at it until it started to hurt. You continued flicking at it, egged on by your awkwardness. And realizing you were being awkward was only making it worse. So you picked. And picked, until the hangnail tore and hurt worse.

“Why is it important that you cum?” He asked.

“What?” You asked. You looked at him, expecting to see pity. Disgust. Curiousness. Dr. Richmond held none of those things. His face was a pillar of stoicism, balancing the perfect mix of professionalism and empathy.

“Why is it so important to you? If you know that it’s normal and plenty of people experience it, shouldn’t the journey matter more than the destination?” He asked.

Your mouth fell open on a silent gasp as you looked at him. Your mind emptied of every single possible answer to that question. It was important because…it was. Because you never got anything else right either. You were always a step behind, slow on the uptick, feeling like you were taking up too much space in the world even after shrinking yourself to the smallest possible point.

Not easy to do considering your size. You loved your body and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it wasn’t exactly easy to hide. You were unassuming, sweet, kind, and a great friend. But beneath all of that, you wanted desperately to fit in. This was a basic human release. It was part of the big three things that humans needed. Food, safety, sex. And you could only achieve one of those things.

But how did you word that without sounding like a pathetic kook? You pulled at the hangnail, felt the burn as it ripped, and shrugged your shoulders. Might as well tell the truth. “Because I feel like a freak when I can’t. Like I waited too long. To have sex, to experience life, to explore what I’m into,” you said.

“Do you think there are goal posts for life?” He asked. He may as well have been a statue for how often he moved. He retained his position, chair turned slightly towards you, as he looked at you like you were a puzzle.

“Isn’t there? That’s why we call them milestones? Reach your 18th birthday, yay you’re an adult. Find the love of your life, yay you’re married. Pop out some kids, yay, you’re continuing the bloodline. I feel like now, at my age, I should know what one fuckin’ orgasm feels like,” you said.

“How do you know you haven’t had one already?” He asked.

“I know my body. There’s nothing. There’s the build up, there’s the excitement, there’s everything leading up to it. But I never get over that peak. It just…goes away,” you said.

Dr. Richmond nodded and turned his attention to the pad. He wrote down a few sentences and it was so quiet in his office, you could hear a clock ticking nearby. You also heard his pen scratch against the paper. He must be using some fancy, fountain pen. He looked the type.

“What do you hope to achieve through therapy?” He asked.

You shrugged. “If I knew, you wouldn’t be my tenth therapist,” you said with a heavy sigh. When you first thought about going to therapy, you thought it wasn’t truly for you. There was nothing that really bothered you outside of life’s stress. Everybody had that.

But you ended up finding some that encouraged you to dig deep and find the woman within. The one comfortable in her skin. Encouraged you to explore your sexuality and think about it in depth. You crawled through so many forums, so many health websites, so many articles that you had a great idea of what ailed you.

“There has to be a reason you keep trying,” he said.

You leaned back into the sofa with a huff. “You definitely ask the easy questions. What happened to the intake and whatever?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. He tapped his pen against your folder. “You’ve done plenty of that, don’t you think?”

Your lips twisted with a smile. Okay, maybe you were starting to see why he was so highly recommended. He was comforting without being condescending. Soothing without being smarmy. He treated you like an adult and for the first time, you had a little beacon of hope.

“I keep trying because I want it. I don’t have the words right now to describe why I want it. I want to know the hype. I want the relief. I want to know what post nut clarity feels like,” you said.

Dr. Richmond chuckled and you chuckled with him. It sounded funny, but you were so serious. It was exhausting at this point. Pretending like you knew what the fuck you were talking about when others asked you. Your group chat blew up with your equally single friends who were less discerning about who they took to bed.

Every other night, there were stories about dick sizes, oral, and a whole treatise on the lack of finesse these guys had. You almost snorted thinking about your best friend, Brooklyn, and how she said that no wonder men were trapping women in marriages in the past. It was the only way they could get women to be with them. It certainly wasn’t because of their pornographic sexual prowess.

“What’s been your journey with sex so far?” He asked.

You took a deep breath and told him all about it. The way that you picked up a book one day with sex in it and never looked back. In a lot of ways, that book probably shaped how you viewed sex and your sexual kinks. Before long, you were searching for more and more books with the exact same tropes. A sexy, semi-asshole alpha male that was too big to be real. 7’8, long dick, and a short attitude. Typically bad boy types with tattoos and “touch her and die” vibes. The kind to only be soft with the female main character.

You could wax poetic about why it appealed to you. Blah blah blah, you had a terrible childhood where you felt invisible. It was all there in the file if he wanted to take a gander.

“I know I’m submissive, that I want to be dominated in bed. But, whew, the game out here is ridiculous,” you said. “The men I wouldn’t mind submitting to are too damn weak to take control. The men I would never submit to act like I’m their pet already and can speak to me however they want.”

“Do you think you’re being too picky?” He asked.

You were startled into a laugh. “What gave me away, Dr. Richmond?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “I have a process, bear with me,” he said. That ain’t all you wanted to do. He was fine as hell. You mentally shook your head. No, you could not go there. Not at all.

You continued to discuss how you led to certain conclusions. Yes, you were picky. But why shouldn’t you be? You weren’t seeking perfection. You just wanted something normal. Something healthy. Something toe curling, mind numbing, sickeningly disgusting and sweet. Was that too much to ask for?

Dr. Richmond asked more questions and you relaxed fraction by fraction, getting right to the core of why you were seeking professional help. You told him about some of the partners you had. Some who were sweet and really tried. You had a long term boyfriend at one point who was attentive and caring. But he fell short of making you cum.

He ate you out long enough to get you wet and going and then jumped straight to sex just so he could cum. You often lied about cumming until it got too exhausting to keep up with. He promptly got mad, hurt that you lied, and possibly embarrassed that he wasn’t God’s gift to sex. His loss.

It was awkward at first to discuss such intimate details with Dr. Richmond but you often forgot he was even there. Until he asked you to expand on something you said or ask a clarifying question. Even the scratch of his pen faded into the background as you spoke about how you arrived in his office.

Dr. Richmond finally finished and leaned back in his seat once more, squaring his broad shoulders against the high back of his chair. He crossed his leg and looked at you and you briefly wondered what he’d look like without the glasses.

“We’re nearing the end of our session but I think I’m getting a clearer picture of why you’re here. After hearing from you and looking through your file, it seems like your perception of what sex really is has been skewed. Either through these books, these movies, or even porn. It’s perfectly okay to consider what you like in bed or what you prefer in a partner. But most people’s foray into their sexual journey starts with themselves. What’s your relationship like with your body?”

“I love my body,” you said, immediately. Why wouldn’t you love your body? You were gorgeous. Sure, you struggled with your weight, but you didn’t want to be thin anyway. You just wanted to roll out of bed without being out of breath sometimes. Or cut your toenails without having to stop every few minutes for air.

Dr. Richmond licked his lips and your eyes dropped immediately to it. He rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb and it drew your attention to his big hands. Too damn bad you hadn’t met him under better circumstances. You bet he could make you cum. Often.

“What else?” He asked.

“What else is there?” You asked, clearing your throat, and drawing your attention away from how drop dead gorgeous he was. Your thoughts ran wild still, picturing him in all sorts of nasty scenarios. If nothing else, your imagination was always there to show you a good time. Your own perfect world where you experienced back to back orgasms.

“What has your personal sexual journey encompassed besides you loving your body? Do you touch yourself?” He asked.

You fought every urge you had to squeeze your thighs together. How the hell did this man end up in this profession? He missed his calling as a phone sex operator. Or an erotic audio content creator. Good lord, he could have people eating out of the palm of his hand if he so wished. Swimming in a tub full of money earned from hundreds of thousands of horny bitches who could cum to his voice alone. Lucky bitches.

You shrugged. “Of course I touch myself. I can’t cum that way either,” you said.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “This only works if you lower them walls you try so hard to hide behind,” he said.

You kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. The hell did he know. So what if he had fancy doctor diplomas behind his chair. So what if he had a MD in this field. What the hell did he know?

After cursing him out two ways from Sunday in your mind, you deflated. “I know I’m not relaxed when I masterbate. I lock my door, I put on headphones, and I still feel like I’m…”

“Like you’re…?” Dr. Richmond prompted.

“Being watched? Being judged? You can probably guess I grew up religious. It’s not like I had enough time or space to explore my body. My room was directly next to my parents’. If I so much as sighed too loud, my mom was banging on my wall telling me to fix my attitude,” you admitted. That had been oodles of fun. Growing up, you couldn’t even roll your eyes without someone telling you to fix your face.

“What does relax you then?” He asked.

“When I find out, I’ll tell you,” you said.

Dr. Richmond smiled, showing off a dazzling, mega-watt movie star smile that made your knees weak. If you weren’t already sitting down, you’d fall flat on your face.

“I believe I can help you, but you have to be willing to do the work. I need total, focused commitment from you. Do you think you can do that?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said instantly. There wasn’t even a question. You wanted this more than breathing, more than eating. And that was saying something because you would happily drive far and wide for a good meal.

Dr. Richmond nodded. “Good. I’m giving you homework. I want you to spend the next week exploring your body. Nothing sexual. Spend time in your body and with your body. Touch yourself, but no masterbating. When you shower, acknowledge your body. When you lotion up, pay attention to every mole, every scar. This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body. I also want you to keep a journal. You won’t share it with me unless you want to, but this exercise is to get you in tune with your body. Rewire how you perceive sex and sexual completion. Does that sound doable?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment. He must not know the effect he had on those around him. He had to be completely clueless. Batshit fucking oblivious. The wreck he was having on your libido was absolutely insane.

Joking aside, you were taking this seriously. In just one session, Dr. Richmond managed to give you a tiny spark of hope. That maybe you weren’t a lost cause. You immediately tempered your thoughts. Hope hurt. You’d been hopeful so many times in the past, with different therapists, who seemed like they had a plan to help you.

Only for them to diagnose some other problem. You had anxiety, duh. You had depression, shocker. You had a laundry list of diagnoses from doctors and therapists who just thought you were obsessed with sex. That was like saying the sky was blue. Who wasn’t obsessed with sex? Besides asexual people.

“I’ll do it,” you said.

“Good,” he said. He went over your schedule, working out a time to see him once a week until you would eventually graduate to fewer sessions. That bummed you out. Not seeing his gorgeous face ever again? Could you fake another issue and continue seeing him?

Dr. Richmond dismissed you and you left his office feeling a smidgen lighter than when you entered. Maybe this would actually work out. Maybe.

Terry

Terry finished with his last client of the day and went over his notes, inputting his clearer thoughts into the patient portal on his laptop. When he ran across your file, he paused and opened it once more.

Your case fascinated him. He couldn’t stop pouring over your files, doctor’s notes, direct quotes. There had been plenty of therapists before him, all trying to help the beautiful woman who entered his office earlier in the afternoon.

He wasn’t immune to his patients. Some were beautiful and charming and all tried to flirt their way into his bed. He never crossed that line. Never. Yet…when you discussed your story, the rawness of it captivated him. He held onto your every word like you were a theater production right before his eyes.

He hardly took notes because he was so fascinated with the dichotomy of you. On the outside, you were a bit shy. Perhaps too self-aware which led you to shrink, hide who you really were. He got the sense that there was an entire universe wrapped up in your mind and he began asking deeper questions than he ever had on a first session.

The hour had gone by too fast for his tastes. He wanted to hear more. Learn more. Know more. He hated to admit it, he even got semi-erect as you told your tale. He was understandably disgusted and it wasn’t the first time; occupational hazard. But it was the first time he’d ever cursed his medical degree.

You were perfect. Absolutely perfect. When you admitted to being submissive, his dick even twitched. Ached. Why couldn’t he have met you somewhere else? Surely, fate hadn’t been so cruel as to put the perfect sub within reach and then ensure that he could never have you? Never touch you?

Describing your previous lovers actually made his chest boil. You had been subjected to ignorant men who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. And they had you believing that you were the problem. It was laughable. It was maddening. It was cruel.

He frowned at your file. He had gone over it so many times in preparation for the session. He didn’t know what would walk through the door. A file this thick? He thought he’d have a sex-obsessed, delusional fiend on his hands that he’d have to contend with.

Your wish of cumming was almost cute. Terry sighed. He shouldn’t be thinking it was cute. If anything, he should be passing your case off to his colleague down the hall. Dr. Crawford was as capable as Terry was, their ideas often aligning in regards to treatment.

He preferred a holistic approach. Most problems could be resolved within a few months, once people began to shift their idea of sex and their role in it.

“Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” That was one of his favorite quotes, said so many times that no one truly knew where it originated.

It was a quote he often repeated to his patients at the right moment. When they were beginning to discover a part of themselves previously unexplored. He wondered how long it would take for your moment? That dawning realization.

He was only sad he couldn’t see it in real time. That moment when you let yourself feel. Let yourself relax and sink into that subspace you so desperately needed. Terry grunted and closed your file.

He was about to crack you open like an egg and watch a brand new woman emerge. He was about to hand you off to the first man who pretended to understand your needs. He took out his fresh notepad, every patient got one, and scribbled some more notes. He’d have to make sure you understood the difference between a real dom and a little boy playing dress up.

His eyes scanned across his earlier notes, little things he jotted down while you spoke. Areas you skipped over, areas you expanded on. They were only a sentence or two long, something to kickstart his memory. Because at the time, his eyes were focused on you. On your face, your voice, your mannerisms.

It was both a curse and a blessing to notice so much. See so much. Understand so much. But it worked when necessary. You deflected about your sexual partners, retreated when he tried to push further about how you reached these conclusions. What methods you tried.

Usually, Terry did a whole song and dance to ease patients into talking about sex. Sex was taboo until it was time to have it. Now everything was awkward, unbalanced, and led to too many instances of abuse.

But between your file and how skittish but determined you seemed, you didn’t need a song and dance. You needed someone to give you guideposts. You didn’t truly need therapists. You just needed a nudge in the right direction. A nudge to someone else.

Terry pursed his lips and looked at your name on the file. He had to be careful. If he wasn’t, you would end up being trouble in more ways than one.

He finished up the last of his notes and then scanned through for anything he might have missed. He wrote down what your homework assignment was. He hadn’t truly known where that came from.

Perhaps it was the look in your eyes. Perhaps it was the helpless, frantic twist to your mouth that had him going from zero to one hundred where you were concerned. But the more he described it, the lower your eyes went. The way your mouth slackened just a bit. As if you were caught in some picture in your mind that he couldn’t see.

Terry leaned away from his desk and looked outside of his window. The tinted glass showed the sun in the distance, sinking lower towards the horizon. A bird flew, twisting and turning with the hot currents it found.

He ought to do the right thing. There was no way to remain objective in this manner. Not when he was strangely drawn to you, drawn to your file, and drawn to the unique challenge it presented.

You could very well end up a case study in some medical textbook or journal, name changed, but the presentation exactly the same. He didn’t relish the thought of being the one to put you there. But your case could end up helping someone else. It was the way the world worked.

He only hoped that he had enough self-restraint to walk away if he found himself compromised. If he couldn’t reign in his personal tastes and habits to help you. If he found himself looking at your lips as you spoke, your smile as you made self-deprecating jokes, or the shy way you licked your lips.

“Shit.” He took his phone out of his bag and hit up his on again, off again submissive play partner, Tasia. Perhaps it’d been too long since he took care of his own needs. Perhaps what he needed was to release the pent up tension he carried around all the time.

How long had it been? He didn’t know. But even as he set up the details with Tasia, he couldn’t help wondering if you were following his directions to the letter.

I said don't judge me! LOL. Thank you for reading, truly.

The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Terry Richmond Files #Terry Richmond x Black!reader #Terry Richmond x Black reader #x Black reader #Terry Richmond x Fem!reader #Terry Richmond x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Terry Richmond x plus size reader #x plus size reader #Terry Richmond #Terry Richmond fanfic #Terry Richmond fan fic #Terry Richmond fanfiction #Terry Richmond fan fiction #Dark!Terry #Dom!Terry #Sub!reader #Sub!Black reader

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svtiddiess · 1 month ago

Text

Green Eyes And Confessions

Synopsis: Wonwoo thinks you're fucking his best friend. But his best friend is fucking with him while you're fucking oblivious to what your crush thinks.

Pairing: Wonwoo x afab!reader x Mingyu

Genre: smut, one shot, roommates to lovers, non-idol! au, college! au

Rating: mature

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: mean dom!Wonwoo, sub!reader, oral (fem receiving), breast play, overstimulation, squirting, voyeurism, exhibitionism, male masturbation, reader is said to be smaller than Mingyu, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you so much to my twin @tomodachiii for beta reading and helping me come up with the synopsis! (I'm still offended you put me up for sale)

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Humming in satisfaction, your hands smooth over your skirt and you do a final outfit check before heading out to the kitchen to grab coffee for class.

"Hey, beautiful," a voice you've come to love stops you in your tracks. Smiling, you turn towards the source of the voice.

"Hey, Gyu!" you chirp, smile widening as he approaches you.

"Heading to class?" he wraps his arms around you into a playful hug, making you giggle; you're always in awe at how much bigger and taller he is compared to you. Wrapping your arms around him and not so subtly snuggling your face into his chest, you hum in confirmation.

"Came to grab coffee before heading out."

"Luckily for you, I already made you one," he tilts his head towards the kitchen counter where a cup of freshly brewed coffee awaits you.

Making Mingyu your roommate was one of the best decisions you've made in life. Not only is he tall, buff, and handsome, but he also knows how to cook and clean; he's the perfect man, really. Letting out a weird mixture of a groan and moan of satisfaction, you squeeze him before grabbing the cup.

"What will I ever do without you?" you muse before taking a sip and letting out a sigh.

"Probably make your own coffee," he chuckles.

"That sounds like torture."

Chuckling, he tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear before patting your cheek. Mingyu has always been affectionate towards you, usually opting to show you his love through physical touch. You don't mind it, as he knows his boundaries and knows when to stop, but lately, he's been a bit too affectionate.

It seems as if he's always going the extra mile for you: memorising your schedule so that he can pack lunch and coffee for you, commenting and complimenting on any changes you make to yourself, being more physically affectionate, and throwing in flirty remarks which never fails to make you blush. Unsure of why the sudden change in attitude, you've brushed it off as him simply being friendly.

"Look who's finally up," Mingyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, and you turn towards your other roommate, Wonwoo, who walks into the kitchen.

"Are you sure he's up?" You giggle at his state. Wonwoo's hair is dishevelled, his hoodie is crumpled, and his round-rimmed glasses are drooping from his nose. If you squint, you can tell there are very prominent eye bags under his eyes and a permanent pout plastered on his face.

"Did you even sleep?" Mingyu quips, to which Wonwoo responds with a grumble.

Wonwoo is the complete opposite of Mingyu—reserved, quiet, and someone who expresses love in subtle ways. He won't openly hug or shower you with affectionate names like Mingyu does, but you can tell he cares deeply; you just have to read between the lines. He follows you to parties to make sure you're safe, even though he hates them, always takes notes for you if you're in the same class, reminds you to drink water when you forget, and offers silent comfort whenever you need it.

Feeling bad, you give Wonwoo the rest of your coffee, to which he smiles gratefully before taking the cup. You find yourself smiling as you watch him finish the rest of your coffee; even in his dishevelled state, he looks handsome. With both his personality and appearance, he reminds you of a black cat.

"You should go, beautiful; it's getting late," Mingyu's voice pulls you from your thoughts. Nodding, you gather your things and prepare to head to class. Mingyu hugs you and kisses the top of your head, and for a moment, you could swear Wonwoo's hard stare and tense posture from over Mingyu's shoulder—but you brush it off, convincing yourself it was just your imagination.

With a final goodbye, you set off to class, already missing their presence.

You decide to grab a quick bite before your next class and head to the campus café. The food isn't exactly drool-worthy, but it gets the job done. Plus, seeing Wonwoo working there always gives you the boost you need to get through the day.

Your mood instantly lifts the moment you step into the café. Seeing Wonwoo in his work uniform never fails to make your heart flutter. It’s just a simple black button-up shirt and a brown apron, but the way the fitted shirt highlights his muscles makes you blush. Add his glasses framing his face and tousled black hair, and he’s the very definition of a 'campus crush.'

With a light blush dusting your cheeks, you approach the counter where Wonwoo awaits.

"Hey, Wonwoo," you greet him with a smile.

"Hey, you," he says, his eyes lighting up and his shoulders lifting at the sight of you. "Here for a snack? Want your usual?"

You giggle and nod, thankful he remembers your usual order. It was bound to happen, though—you make a point to visit the café whenever he's working.

He nods and, despite your many protests, gives you the order on the house. You're certain it's coming out of his salary, but with a defeated sigh, you take a seat at your usual table—the one with the perfect view of Wonwoo at work.

A few minutes later, Wonwoo brings over your order. The café is self-serve, but he always makes an exception for you. You're puzzled when you spot an extra chocolate chip cookie on the tray.

"A cookie?" you ask, looking up at him, confused.

"You’ve got three classes after this; you’ll need the extra sugar," he says with a shrug and a smile. "Plus, it's freshly baked."

You take a bite and instantly melt. The cookie is perfect—gooey, warm, and just the right amount of sweetness.

"I didn’t know the café made cookies," you say, tilting your head.

You notice him get flustered for a moment as a blush creeps up his cheeks. He quickly looks away, clearing his throat.

"It’s, uh, for a special event…" he mumbles, trailing off before clearing his throat again. "I can pack you more to take with you if you'd like."

You nod enthusiastically, making him chuckle. He heads back to the counter and returns with a bag full of chocolate chip cookies.

"Wonwoo, this is too much," you gasp.

"Hush, I know how much of a sweet tooth you have. These will probably be gone within the hour," he smirks, and you blush because he’s absolutely right.

You pout as you thank him, and he chuckles before leaning down to gently wipe the crumbs from the corners of your mouth.

"You're such a messy eater—cute," he mumbles. By now, you’re blushing so hard you probably resemble a tomato.

Before you can respond, someone calls his name. He sighs, giving you a sad smile.

"Well, duty calls," he says with a sigh. "See you at home, Y/N."

You wave goodbye, watching him get back to work, your heart still racing.

Heavy footsteps echo throughout the shared apartment as you trudge back from an excruciating day of classes. Tired was an understatement to the fatigue you're feeling right now.

"Hey," Mingyu greets from where he's sat on the couch.

Trudging over to Mingyu, you plop down next to him with a sigh. He scoots over, and his arms instantly welcome you, pulling you close and enveloping you in comfort.

"Long day, beautiful?" He hums, gently massaging your scalp, causing you to sigh and melt in his embrace.

"Too long," you murmur, wanting nothing more than to forget the day's events.

He shifts you both to lie on the couch, tugging on top of him. This was new territory, but you're too tired to resist; you let him do as he pleases. The smell of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the sound of his heartbeat, and the feeling of his hand rubbing your back slowly lull you to sleep.

"Go to sleep, beautiful; I'll be right here," he hums when you fight to stay awake. You relax into his embrace and drift off to sleep slowly at his words.

"What are you two doing?" A displeased voice cuts through the silence, startling you awake.

"She's tired, so I'm cuddling her," Mingyu states as you turn your head to look at Wonwoo, who's looking at the both of you with a glare that almost pierces your soul.

He holds his stare, the same hardened glare he had when you hugged Mingyu this morning. You shift uncomfortably under Wonwoo's gaze, unsure of why he's so irritated. The silence was deafening, and you could feel the tension in the room rise. You want him or Mingyu to say something cause you surely can't in the face of his scowl.

"Don't stay up too late," Wonwoo grumbles and returns to his room.

You release a breath you didn't realise you were holding and shift to face Mingyu. You're a little confused and startled as to why there's the barest of a satisfied smirk on his face, but he quickly hides it, looking down at you with a gentle smile.

"Let's cuddle in my room instead," he says and picks you up effortlessly. Letting out a small squeal, you wrap your legs around him and cling on for dear life.

He laughs as he plops you down on his bed. Huffing, you look up at him with a pout to which he coos.

"Wonwoo looked upset," you mumble, picking at a stray thread on his bed.

"He's probably just grumpy. You know how he is," he replies, heading towards his closet. Blinking, you're sure that if anyone was the most perceptive between the three of you, it was him. Mingyu would have already noticed and cared, but right now, it seems like he's purposefully pushing Wonwoo's buttons, which you deemed to be odd.

"But he seemed actually upset just now. It feels like he has been upset with us for the past few weeks…"

"What makes you say that?"

"I dunno…it's just he always seems annoyed whenever he sees us hanging out…"

"He's probably stressed cause of uni…" he pauses before finishing with a mumble, "or he's maybe jealous."

"Jealous?" Before you can say anything else, Mingyu tosses one of his t-shirts over your head. "Hey!" you protest. Snatching the t-shirt off, you huff as he laughs at your irritation.

"Go change. I'm sure you don't want to be in those stuffy clothes for any longer."

You grumble and head to the bathroom to get changed. Since Mingyu's shirt was far too big for you, you decided to wear it as a dress, slipping out of your now dirty shirt and skirt. After a silent debate, you decided to remove your bra as well, since wearing a bra to sleep would be very uncomfortable.

Walking back into the room, you find Mingyu already comfortable in bed and shirtless. He's told you multiple times that he prefers sleeping topless, but seeing him in this state makes you blush. Shaking away any thoughts and affirming yourself that you're only friends, you slip into bed with him. His arms immediately wrap around you and pull you close. Softly giggling, you snuggle into his chest.

"Gyu?" you hum.

"Yeah?"

"Earlier, you said that Wonwoo might be jealous of us. What did you mean by that?"

You feel his body tense a little but as quick as it came, it went.

"You've had a long day, beautiful; go to sleep," he murmurs, using one hand to massage your scalp gently.

"But-"

"No buts. Sleep."

With a defeated sigh, you reluctantly drift off to sleep in Mingyu's warm embrace.

The whirring of the coffee machine pulls you from your slumber. Groggily, you sit up and rub your eyes, glancing over at Mingyu, who's still fast asleep beside you. A sudden pang of guilt washes over you, and though you're not sure why, it feels as though you've somehow betrayed Wonwoo. Shaking off the thought, you carefully untangle yourself from Mingyu's long limbs, stumble out of the room, and head to the kitchen.

"Can you make me a cup too?" You ask Wonwoo, whose eyebrows furrow when he sees you leave Mingyu's room.

"Why are you coming out of Mingyu's room?" he asks with an edge to his tone. He puts his coffee down to stare at you pointedly.

"We slept together," you yawn, a little too disoriented to realise your wording.

"You…slept together?"

You hum and nod, brain clearly too tired to notice the tense way he holds himself.

Just then, Mingyu stumbles out of his room with a visible pout. You turn to look at him and see that he didn't bother to wear his shirt back.

"I can't believe you left me, Y/N!" he whines. "Do you know how cold I was without you?"

"Unbelievable," Wonwoo's scoff brings your attention back to him.

You furrow your eyebrows, confused at his irritation.

"You really are a slut aren't you?" he seethes.

"I'm sorry?" you sputter, your eyes widening as your brain fully wakes up. You're confused by his sudden change in attitude.

Did he just call you a slut?

"What do you mean slut?" your eyebrows furrow as your tone turns defensive.

"I said what I said," he growls.

"Wonwoo, what the hell is your problem?!" you fume; it's too early in the morning to be dealing with this.

"The hell man? You can't just call her a slut," Mingyu states with irritation.

"Shut the hell up, this doesn't involve you," Wonwoo snaps at Mingyu. Both you and Mingyu are taken aback by Wonwoo's attitude.

Wonwoo has always been so soft-spoken and calm around you, but seeing him act like this sends a shiver down your spine. He struts towards you, but you don't dare move from your place.

"How long have you been sleeping with him?" he growls.

Oh.

That's when it hits you. You're wearing Mingyu's shirt, Mingyu's topless; you both come out of his room; you said you slept together.

"W-Wait Wonwoo, that's not what-"

He grabs your face, and you let out a squeak.

"I asked you a question. Answer me," he growls, bringing your face closer to his.

Letting out a soft whimper, you squeeze your thighs together.

"It was only last night!" You defend.

"First, you pranced around in those little skirts. You're getting all cozy and romantic with my roommate without telling me, then you slept with him behind my back, and now you're lying to me?" he snaps. "You deserve to be punished, kitten."

"W-What?" you stutter, gulping hard. Never in a million years did you think Wonwoo would behave like this. You’ve always seen him as a soft-spoken gentleman, a nerdy gamer, and a cat lover. But seeing him like this makes your heart skip a beat, and not in a bad way.

Some lonely nights in bed were spent thinking of what type of man Wonwoo was in bed. You always thought of him as a soft lover based on his personality and demeanour. But now, seeing how he acts, you realise you couldn't have been more wrong.

His piercing gaze and harsh tone send shivers down your spine. Gulping, you glance past Wonwoo to see Mingyu, who offers you a reassuring smile that helps relax your body. You suck in a breath and look back at Wonwoo, your heart fluttering when you meet his piercing gaze yet again.

You can tell he’s waiting for your reaction. Even in this situation, he’s attentive to you. You respond with a small smile and a nod. In return, he gives you a gentle smile, lifts you up, and sets you on the kitchen counter.

"Is this okay with you?" he murmurs softly, his tough demeanour faltering momentarily. Your heart flutters at the gesture, and blushing deeply, you nod.

"Words, kitten."

"Y-Yes, it's okay," you mumble.

He gives you a soft smile before turning towards Mingyu, who's watching the both of you with a heated gaze.

"You. Sit and watch," Wonwoo orders.

Mingyu grabs a chair and Wonwoo's unfinished coffee, placing the chair opposite you both, giving himself the perfect view of what's about to unfold. Smirking, he sits down and sips the coffee, anticipating what's to come, like he was watching his favourite episode unfold after a whole season of build-up.

Turning his attention back to you, Wonwoo looks you up and down, causing you to squirm. He scrutinises the shirt you're wearing.

"I really want to take this off, but I don't want him to see what's mine, so I'll let it go—just this once."

Your heart jumps at the thought of him calling you 'his'. You're not sure if he truly meant it, but decided not to mull over it at the moment.

He traces his hands up your thighs and onto your torso, stopping at your breasts and squeezing them, causing you to moan.

"No bra? You're really going to get it," he growls.

You whimper at the feeling of him massaging your breasts through the shirt, making him smirk. You gasp when you suddenly feel his hand touch your bare skin. You arch your back and whine when you feel him tug on your nipples.

"That's right. Be as loud as you can; show him how good I make you feel," he purrs.

You can feel your core throb the more he plays with your breasts. He leans in and leaves wet kisses on your neck, each accompanied by a teasing bite.

"Wonwoo, please," you whine.

"Hm? What is it, kitten?"

"Need more, please," you whimper, blushing hard.

With a smirk, he drops to his knees and spreads your thighs. Blushing heavily, you try to close them, but his strong grip prevents you. He slowly peels your soaked panties off, making you squirm.

"Stop moving," he orders, and you instantly freeze in place.

He tosses your panties towards Mingyu, who pathetically stumbles for it. Before you can make any comment on it, Wonwoo licks a long stripe up your core, moaning at the taste. You gasp and whimper, legs automatically closing, but he keeps them open with his arms.

He dives in without warning, causing you to gasp and grab his hair. He expertly uses two fingers to separate your lips and dives his tongue into your core, lapping up all your juices. You moan his name and pull him in closer, but his glasses knock him back. With a growl, he tosses his glasses onto the counter and dives back in. Goosebumps riddle your skin as the cool air hits your warm body.

You catch a glimpse of Mingyu, who's stroking himself with your panties wrapped around his dick; his eyes are locked onto you as pants and groans escape his lips. You feel a jolt of pleasure course through you when you feel Wonwoo suck on your clit. His hands kneading your thighs, his hair tickling your skin, the sucking of your clit, the lewd scene of Mingyu stroking himself, it all becomes too much for you.

"Wonwoo, I'm cumming!" You squeal as you come undone on his tongue.

He continues to lap up all your juices unrelentingly. You whine and push him away, but he doesn't budge. A choked moan escapes your lips when he inserts two fingers into you. Tears prick your eyes as Wonwoo starts to fuck you with his fingers.

"W-Wonwoo! T-Too much!" You stutter out, feeling overwhelmed by the overstimulation.

He continues his brutal pace as his other hand snakes up and pinches your nipple. Your pleas are only met with unrelenting thrusts of his fingers and the sucking of your clit. Tears stream down your face as your brain becomes fuzzy due to the overwhelming pleasure. Your legs shake as you already feel yourself tipping over the edge again.

Before you know it, your vision whites out, and you're squirting all over him, making a mess all over the counter.

Your ears ring as he continues to lick up your juices. After a few more licks, Wonwoo finally lets you go and comes up. You blush hard when you see his face soaked with your juices. He picks up his glasses from the counter and smirks at your blushing face as he puts them on.

You peer over Wonwoo's shoulder to see Mingyu heaving with his head thrown back, cum painting his stomach. Somewhere in the middle of you cumming, he must've cum too.

"You sound so cute when you come undone for me," Wonwoo mumbles, returning your attention to him. He pulls you into a deep kiss, a sharp contrast to how he treated you just moments ago. The gesture makes your heart flutter, and you find yourself falling even deeper for him.

You taste yourself along with the coffee he had earlier on his tongue, a taste you find strangely addictive. Cupping your face, he sucks on your bottom lip. The both of you get lost in the kiss. You only separate when you run out of air, gasping. You look into his eyes, which hold a deep affection for you—more than just friendship. You can sense that he wants to say something, but he's holding himself back.

"He has a crush on you, you know," Mingyu's voice interrupts the silence.

The both of you look at Mingyu, who's looking back with a cheeky grin as he cleans himself up using your panties. You make a mental note to throw that pair away.

"He's always had a crush on you and gets jealous whenever we hang out. He's too much of a coward to confess his feelings, so I thought I'd give him a little push. That's why I've been flirting with you lately."

Shocked, you look back at Wonwoo. Never in a million years would you have thought that Wonwoo would have a crush on you. You have always found him attractive and harboured feelings for him but suppressed them as you didn't want to ruin your friendship. Wonwoo doesn't meet your gaze. Instead, he seems focused on the hem of your shirt.

"Wonwoo?" You prompt him for an explanation.

Sighing, he nods slightly.

"It's…true," he mumbles. "I've had a crush on you since the day we met. You're so sweet and kind, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship, so I tried distancing myself. I guess that's why you ended up spending more time with Mingyu than with me," he sighs.

"Seeing you come out of Mingyu's room today, I…I don't know, I just snapped," he mumbles. "I shouldn't have treated you that way. I'm sorry. And I understand if you hate me and want me out of your life now."

Smiling, you gently cup his face and force him to look at you. Your heart breaks when he looks at you with eyes filled with regret and fear.

"Wonwoo, I could never hate you; you're too cute for that," you whisper.

"Wha-"

"I have feelings for you too, Wonwoo," you giggle. His eyes widen before softening at your confession.

"Let me take you out on a proper date," he says before leaning in. The softness of his voice spreads warmth across your chest, but just as you're about to respond, his lips brush against your ear.

"And then I'll make sure to properly fuck you,"

You sputter, hitting his arm and then hiding your face in your hands.

"Deal," you mumble.

He chuckles and removes your hands from your face before leaning in for a tender kiss, sealing the deal.

"You're welcome, by the way," grins Mingyu.

"Shut up, Mingyu."

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chaotic-mystery · 3 months ago

Text

PROFESSOR’S PET

Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.

Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.

Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||

“You want me to do what?”

It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.

He couldn’t have been serious.

“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.

“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”

“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”

He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.

“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”

You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.

“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.

“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.

He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.

“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.

The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.

“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.

Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.

The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.

You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.

Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.

There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.

You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.

“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.

So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”

He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.

Focus.

You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.

“I got it. Botticelli.”

“Nice choice. Why him?”

You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.

“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.

“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”

Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.

“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”

You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.

“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”

Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.

“What do you mean, professor?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.

“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”

You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.

“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”

You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.

“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.

“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.

“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.

“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.

He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation you nod yes.

“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.

“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”

That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.

His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.

“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.

For the purpose of learning, right?

Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.

“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.

“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”

His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.

“Joel, I-”

“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”

His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.

“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.

You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.

His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”

His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.

“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.

“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.

He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.

“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”

You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.

“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.

“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.

The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.

He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.

“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.

“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”

#studioghibelliswritingchallenge #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller au #professor Joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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hitomisuzuya · 26 days ago

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scaramouche x fem!reader. fluff. scara being drunk and in love. drunk voicemails. soft scara. college au

i have aventurine smut planned, but i have wanted to write something like this for a long time. the lyrics are from somewhere only we know by keane.

scaramouche had plans to go out last night. but you didn't feel well, so you told him to go out with xiao without you. to have fun and not drink too much. he protested at first, saying "what kind of a man leaves his woman to go out when she is sick?" complete with trademark huff, and crossed arms.

scaramouche hates being without you. really, really hates it.

the next morning, feeling much better, you rolled over and grabbed your phone to check the time. you discovered you had several voicemails. you'd been so deep asleep that you didn't hear the phone ring.

they were all from scaramouche.

"fuck, you'd better be asleep, kitten," came scaramouche's very slurred voice, "i really hate the song playing. i wish you were here so my ears aren't bleeding alone. i don't know why xiao fucking loves this song. it's stupid pop crap. i miss you. fuck, i am so in love with you. you should feel my heart. it goes skip, skip when i think about you. it's kind of annoying--" end of voicemail.

he must've hit the recording limit.

"hey kitten, listen, it's a song you like. more pop crap, but the piano is kind of clutch, not gonna lie," you heard shuffling for a moment, he must've been taking his phone from his ear and holding it out so you could hear the song. after a few moments of hearing shrilled music, he must've put the phone back to his ear. "fuck what's it called again?" you heard some drunk sounding humming before the voicemail stopped.

smiling, you went onto the third voicemail. you heard somewhere only we know by keane come through the speaker again. only this time, you heard scaramouche's slurred voice singing the song to you. "i felt the earth beneath my feet. sat by the river and it made me complete. you make me feel complete."

scaramouche stumbled and hummed adorably to the part of the song he didn't know. your smile widened. "oh simppllee thing, where have you gone..yeah, kitten where are you? i miss you. i'll be he medicine that makes you feel better. fuck how does this song go?" the voicemail ended.

the fourth one immediately started with scaramouche singing, more slurred than before. you found out later from xiao that he'd fed the jukebox at the bar with 5 bucks to play somewhere only we know over and over so he could call you back to sing the parts of the song he wanted to sing to you.

"i'm getting old and i need something to rely onnnnnn. fuck hold on, i wanted to sing this part to you first..no, did you hear the made me feel complete part? you make me feel complete," you heard drinking noises and a heavy sigh.

"dude, scara, she is probably sleeping. you are going to wake her up," xiao's voice interrupted.

"fuck off, you shithead! i'm serenading my kitten! go put another dollar in the jukebox, i'm not done, she needs to hear this!" the voicemail ended.

the last voicemail started with him humming somewhere only we know. "i need something to rellyy on." at this point, he was just singing random lyrics. "wait, hold on..made me feel complete. something to rely on..xiao! xiao! these fucking lyrics, these fuckers really wrote this whole song for her," there was some shuffling noises. "xiao, we gotta go fucking kill keane!"

he was deadass convinced the band was in love with you and wrote the song for you so they could steal you away from him.

later that day, you played the voicemails for scaramouche. 'oh my god..i got so drunk last night" he said, dismayed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

"what? i thought the voicemails were sweet," you said, grinning at him. you gave him a quick kiss on his lips. "i'm keeping them." you had to say that before he asked you to delete them.

he sighed. "fine. keep them. not another soul hears them," he hissed. he was incapable of saying no to you.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #modern au #genshin fluff #scarammouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #soft scara

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sweetlittlefawntears · 20 days ago

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☆ the woods

e. williams x fem! reader

cw: smut duh, not proofread, established relationship, hunter/hunted kink, blood play (kinda idk) mild weapon kink (knife), sex outside, degradation, intentional lowercase, fingering and strap on sex (r receiving), dom ellie and sub reader (IM SORRY OK I LIKE DOM ELLIE SUE ME)

au: okay ill post again bro i actually feel bad but im back from the dead I'm literally sobbing banging my head on the keyboard having to write this but I'm not dead ok guys.

you had hopped up from the comfy yet old sofa you and ellie were sitting on after a slight argument, saying you wanted to "take a walk." ellie protested, but you both knew the best thing after a disagreement like this was for one of you to get some fresh air. it was a crisp cool autumn night, the wind bustling along with the leaves of the trees down the path by you and ellies sweet little home. It was pleasant. The woods behind your house served as a beautiful painting, a work of art for you to look at.

as you walked past some of the trees, you ended up at a wooden fence, finally deciding to stop there to look out over the watery colors of the setting sun, when a slender hand came up behind you and gently touched the side of your shoulder.

the touch startled you, but you turned around quickly to see the familiar hardened face of your girlfriend, ellie williams. her eyes looked tired, but relieved to see you. "you're jumpy." she commented.

"sorry..." you trail off quietly, not wanting to fight anymore with her. "hey, hey. don't be like that." ellie said, grabbing your face almost forcefully. she looked at you with those piercing eyes, the ones that made you feel like she could see your entire past and future with just one glance. you immediately cave in, wanting her to just have you right there and then. it was hard to stay mad at her.

without missing a single moment, without even hesitating, you kissed her. soft and sloppy, exactly the way you knew she'd like, breathy sounds escaping into her mouth, the cold of the fall air and the sound of leaves rustling from the forest behind you had disappeared, and all you could hear was the sound of your own heart beating in your chest and the sound of ellies lips, now chapped from the cold pressed against yours.

you whimpered, suddenly needy and eager for her, but just as you started to want more, she pulled away, a dark look in her eyes. shit. "you think you can get off that easy?" she said, looking at you and grasping the front of the woven blue sweater she had given you. you stayed silent, knowing exactly what was coming, what she had planned for you. "you know, i don't think you deserve to move on from being such a little fucking brat earlier." she said, looking down at you.

and that's why, after all of the soft moments you had shared just a few minutes ago seemed to turn into years ago, you were running from her, into the cold woods, the light peering out from the canopy of the tree tops, the pale moonlight being the only thing you could see along with the crushing of leaves and small pebbles beneath your feet.

you knew you couldn't run from her forever. she enjoyed the thrill of chasing you, it was like a reward, you were her little mouse, so pure trying to run away from her, desperate to get away from whatever she wanted to do when she eventually got you. just as you thought you could not run another inch you stumbled, tripping over yourself onto the ground on all fours, your knees scraped through your jeans, bloody hands and all. what a sight for ellie to behold.

ellie came up behind you. you could feel her presence. "gotcha..." she whispered before grabbing you and pulling you up, a whimpering mess for her. it was pathetic and you knew it. the worst part? you liked it. you genuinely liked it. you mentally hit yourself in the head for getting off on being chased and caught by her, your own girlfriend. it was certainly a sick fantasy, but you loved it. you loved her having you like this.

you still squirmed, your back to her front, unable to fend for yourself at last, pitifully trying to get away, though you really didn't want to. "stop." ellie said, holding you closer to her. as you softly whimpered for her to release you, though you knew it was all for nothing.

"shut the fuck up." ellie said, grabbing her switchblade from her pocket, holding it up to where your jeans had torn earlier, slowly deepening the cut along the seams, whilst slowly dragging the blade ever so softly over your skin. you winced, the blade sharp across your smooth skin. it wasn't deep enough to truly even cause a scar, but the cut still stung as it was freshly opened up to the chill air surrounding you.

"you ready to give up?" ellie said, still holding you close to your body, your legs pushing away from her, but her grip didn't loosen. eventually, you half gave up and allowed her to slip her hand down your soft stomach into your jeans. truly, you wanted this, you didn't want to be bratty, but there was no way you'd let her get her way with you that easy. you were better than that.

but you weren't good enough to withstand the growing arousal pooling in your stomach, the way her slender fingers slid along your slit, the way she whispered in your ear; "s'fucking perverted bun, your cunt is fucking dripping." the pads of her fingers rubbing circles around your clit, harshly, almost needily, but you knew better than to think she truly meant this to be loving. no, she wanted you to be a ruined, drooling, sloppy mess when she was finished with you.

"so needy, looks like you're in heat or somethin'." she mocked you, and although you whimpered at her comment, your body was roaring its approval of her words. you wanted to tell her, to tell her she was right, that you were nothing other than her toy, that you needed her to touch you in any and every way possible, but your mind was growing fuzzier with each second.

ellie absolutely adored seeing you like this, lips puffy from biting them, watery doe eyes, face slightly sweating, and soft whimpers and pants coming from those soft delicate little lips of yours.

you whimpered under the delicate drawn out touches to your clit, the rubbing from her fingers making your body and brain go numb, all you could focus was on her.

“mmh, yeah. dont tell me you dont like it, your little cunt is absolutely soaked, bun.” ellie whispered. you shook your head as if to tell her to stop teasing, desperately trying now to get off on her touching you. “no? you dont like it?” she said, almost sneering. “dont fucking lie.”

ellie moved her hand out from underneath those cute lacey panties of yours, out from under your jeans, having you groaning at the feeling of being overly sensitive.

“thought i told you to shut up.” ellie said, and, too quick for you, immediately pushed you down onto the leave-strewn ground, your slightly scraped up hands making contact with the cold dirt of the woodland floor. ellie didn’t waste any time in pulling those jeans off of you.

she dragged her blade along your thigh, allowing the droplets of your blood to fall onto her knife. pulling down those small, soft white panties of yours, clad in nothing but the blue sweater and your ass up in the air, on all fours, like some bitch in heat. what a sight to behold.

cunt dripping slick down your thighs, ellies fingers pounding inside you, pulling your hair, and giving harsh slaps to your asscheck which made you whimper even more from the sweet stinging pain.

her fingers felt like heaven inside you, your poor little hole being fucked over and over again by her. and worse of it all, you really fucking enjoyed it. you felt so pathetic, and even worse when you came onto her fingers, drenching her hand and your thighs with your sticky milky white cum.

”s’all for me, huh?” ellie said as she fucked her fingers into you, helping you ride out your climax. “goddamn, you’re too fucking easy, y’know that?”

eventually, she helps cloth you again, and you walk back, clinging onto your girlfriend like she didnt just have you on all fours, getting off to being chased and caught by her like some stupid naive prey.

as you walked back to your house, entirely fucked out and holding onto ellie, she buried her face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, the night air filling with soft “i love yous”.

hi bro i cannot believe i wrote this in like maybe two hours lmfao i kinda am excited to start writing again but it scares me my stuff will freaking flop ANYWAYS hai i hope u enjoy .. :( theres no fics about ellie chasing u so i took it upon myself to make one !! have a good day / night n remember to drink water !! :3

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #fluff #the last of us #smut #tlou #tlou2

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ugh-yoongi · 9 months ago

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hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #jewel writes

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itneverendshere · 1 month ago

Note

addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!

i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂

i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.

It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.

The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.

But you know that sound. That’s Rafe.

You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.

"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.

“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.

“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.

God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.

His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.

But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.

“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”

You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.

It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.

“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.

“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you lel yourself really look at him.

All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?

He’s a goddamn masterpiece.

“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.

You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.

“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”

You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.

The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse.

“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.

You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.

“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.

“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.

Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard.

“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.

“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”

“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me.” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”

He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”

“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”

He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.

He’s gonna get you good.

Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face. “So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.

Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.

“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.

More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does.

He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin.

Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your panties, you are already trembling. “Please,” you whimper, rocking your hips against his hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick heat and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on. You gasp, hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow and close to your clit.

Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are.“Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”

You’re past patience.

You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it. “Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”

He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, like he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.

He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your slick folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance, warm and insistent. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a slow, deliberate stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls. It’s intimate, almost unbearable in how good it feels, the way he’s taking his time, drawing it out like he’s savoring every second. You tighten around him, wet and hot, and he groans softly as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open, is filthy and intoxicating.

“Like that, baby?” His voice is thick with lust, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.

You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—embarrassingly quick, but it’s been a while.

His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

“Oh God—please,” you gasp, your fingers clutching at his arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.

His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots. Your breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as your body answers to his. You can feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”

You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath.

He leans in, lips caressing your ear, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”

His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up. You cry out, a broken sound, your hips bucking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder. He finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, and when he pulls them out, you feel the emptiness like a loss. You’re still catching your breath, body buzzing from the orgasm he just wrung out of you, but you notice the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.

He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine.

"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”

You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again. He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”

You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”

"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”

You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways.

As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.

His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”

You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter.

You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.

“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”

Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.

You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.

“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.

You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.

You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.

His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.

You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, like he wants to feel every second of it.

“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."

His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”

His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.

Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.

“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”

He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.

“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”

His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.

And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.

The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy.

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”

You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.

"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.

You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.

His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium.

He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. "Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line.

He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”

You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.

The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure. The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”

You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap.

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”

And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.

He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”

You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release

His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.

His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.

You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.

You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk.

“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”

You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.

“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”

You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.

“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”

He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.

“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”

His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.

“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”

He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”

He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment.

“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”

“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”

You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does.

“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.

Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”

The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”

He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”

He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.

But you peck him, simple and sweet.

“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”

The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.

As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.

You choke on your cereal like an idiot.

“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.

Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.

She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”

You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”

Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”

You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”

She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”

“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.

For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.

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