#it makes me feel so dramatic lmfao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

awrkive · 5 months ago

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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!"

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that!

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away.

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him.

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com.

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless.

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk.

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes.

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you.

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either.

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you.

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost.

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed.

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck! Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

#fic: nb #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x you #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook

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tonycries · 9 months ago

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Three's a Crowd (But Four...) - G.S.

Synopsis. “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, foursome (but they’re all Satoru + you LMFAO), NSFW, unprotected sex, double penetration, spit-roasting, face-sitting, doggy, missionary, anal, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, babe), oral sex (male + female receiving), overstimulation (female), swearing, slight breeding kink, cum (like lots).

Word count. 3.0k

A/N. A lil' sum while I get on with a 10k arranged marriage fic. H O R N Y >>> actual JJK technicalities.

Jokes, but idc what that technique was, I took that one chapter and ran with it. Art by @_3aem on X.

Cross-posted on AO3

“They just nerfed Naruto in Boruto cuz they knew he’d be too DILF-y.”

“Amen.”

Sprawled out on Satoru’s couch, both of you were fixated on the Naruto episode playing on-screen. It wasn’t anything new for a Friday night. His soft hairs tickling your chin, and legs dangling off the other end of the couch as he lay atop, cuddling you like a 6’3 housecat.

Times like this, it’s easy to forget that your boyfriend constantly bears the burden of being “the strongest”. That is- until Satoru, eyes still locked onto the screen, speaks up “I can do that too, y’know.”

You turn to look at Satoru, “Do what?”

He nods his head towards the screen - now showing young Naruto mastering his iconic technique. “You could call it Shadow Clone Jutsu.” he hums.

Raising a brow, “So you could make tens of thousands of Satoru clones? The world may never know rest.”

Eyes brimming with smugness, he grins “Something like that.”

You cock your head, wanting to know more, “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?”

“Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” he wiggles his brows in a way that would definitely be creepy if it was anyone but Satoru.

“You wish.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, before going back to using your breasts as his personal cushions. “Not quite clones or holograms, they’re still me. But also not really, y’know?” he murmurs.

“Ahh. No.”

The conversation dwindles into a comfortable silence.

Or so you’d think. But the air was charged with something, and - knowing Satoru - you had an inkling it didn’t bode well for you down there.

As quickly as you suspected, he turns the TV off and turns to you with twinkling eyes.

“Toru...” you reproach.

He whines dramatically, “Come onnnn. Don’t they say the best way to learn is hands-on experience?”

“You just have ulterior motives, Toru.”

“Hell yeah, I do.” he mutters into the valley of your breasts. Satoru peeks at you through his thick lashes, eyes bright with mischief.

How could you say no to those eyes? And, well, you’d be lying if you said that the idea of multiple Satorus didn’t make your pussy clench in excitement.

That’s how you found yourself here.

Shirts thrown across the room and splayed out on Satoru’s overpriced silk bed sheets. You gasp in pleasure as he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he rocks into you, pushing you deeper into the plush bed. Your pussy drips with anticipation as you feel the outline of his rock-hard cock straining against his sweatpants.

Hooking two fingers under your waistband, he swiftly pulls off your panties along with your shorts. “Already so wet and ready f’me…” he groans out. Quickly shuffling your bodies around, “C’mon sweetheart.”

Now, Satoru knows he has a pretty face - too well, in fact, he uses it to his advantage to get his way with you too much. And he thinks there’s nothing that makes his face prettier than you on it.

It’s why he has you bent over and straddling his head. The tighter you squeeze him, the better.

One arm holds you in place while the other spreads your folds. Satoru teases your entrance with a finger, gathering your wetness before popping it into his mouth. He groans sinfully as he tastes you. “Fuck- always so good for me.”

You slowly put your weight onto him, failing against the strong arm that pulls you to sit on him properly.

Satoru moans around your cunt as he finally dives nose-deep into it. Languidly, he licks long stripes against your folds, purposefully catching your clit in the process. “Hah- Fuck. Toru, more!”

Satisfied with your whines, he finally slides his tongue inside your dripping pussy, fucking you with his mouth till his cock twitches for friction.

You notice, and urgently shuffle his sweatpants down. Satoru’s cock stands achingly hard, precum dripping enticingly along the vein on the side of it. You lean down to kiss the shaft, delighting in his noises that send vibrations down to your clit.

As you take his blushing red head into your mouth, Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt.

You arch your back further into his face - moaning around his thick cock. He starts fucking into your mouth steadily, forcing you to take more and more of his length. Drool drips down the corners of your mouth, “Mmm Toru- Feels so good.”

If one Satoru makes you feel this good…what would two feel like?

As if reading your mind - you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually could - Satoru pulls away slightly, ropes of spit still connecting him to you.

“Ready, sweetheart?” he murmurs lowly, hot breath making your cunt quiver.

And before you can respond, the hairs on your body raise as the air stills with the crackle of jujutsu. You remove yourself from Satoru’s cock with a wet pop! Looking up to see…those cerulean eyes.

Another set.

“Toru…” you drone out, turning behind to glare at Satoru - who was now placing innocent kisses to your dripping pussy. His eyes peek out with visible amusement, “Jus’ say the word and I’ll stop.”

Satoru knew he had you cornered. He’d fully felt the way your walls clenched around his tongue once you saw the other version of him. This was going to be fun.

Harshly rolling his tongue against your clit, he lightly smacks your ass - signaling you to pay attention to the other Satoru in front of you now.

So you do.

It was quite surreal seeing an exact copy of your boyfriend grinning down devilishly at you. He cups the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. “Don’t be scared, pretty. It’s jus’ me.”

At first, you were unsure of what to do, the only thing you know being that - clone or not - this one was just as well-endowed as your boyfriend.

Experimentally, you press soft kisses to his hot tip, relishing in his drawn-out groan. You take him in deeper, tonguing the slit in the way you knew your boyfriend liked. “Yeah- Jus’ like that.”

He tightens his grip on your head. Pumping your Satoru with one hand, you use the other to steady yourself as your mouth gets used as the other’s own personal fucktoy.

Shit. This was heaven.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you pull away, “Hngh- Toru, feels so fucking good.” Mewling at the stimulation on your cunt as well as the depravity of the act, you grind your hips deeper into Satoru’s mouth - searching for your high.

Soon, you feel that familiar snap in your stomach. Satoru uses his fingers to spread your lips as you cum all over his tongue. He laps up your juices with lewd squelching sounds as his clone fucks your face deeper. Nose meeting his snowy white pubes and balls hitting your chin, you choke from both the position and Satoru’s relentless tongue.

“Yeah, cum all over my tongue, sweetheart.”

You ride out your high on Satoru’s pretty face, slick spreading all over his mouth and nose. With a final kiss to your cunt, he shifts your legs and moves to tower over from behind.

Removing yourself from the other’s cock, you look over your shoulder to see your boyfriend sensually pumping himself, readying to enter your eager pussy.

“Hey now, eyes on me, pretty.” A long finger moves your chin so that you face the Satoru in front of you. Seems that no matter what, every Satoru was a little possessive over you.

He rubs his dripping tip on your face, smearing his precum as a gloss before fucking into your mouth once more.

Almost at the same time, Satoru fully rams his cock inside your pussy without any warning, tip kissing your cervix.

“Shit. Always taking me in so good, sweetheart.” he huffs out as your walls flutter around his length.

You groan loudly around the cock in your mouth, partly from the pain of being unprepared and partly from the pleasure of getting what you wanted the most - both ends filled by your loving boyfriend.

Your eyes were dazed as you stare doe-eyed up at the Satoru that was plunging into your mouth mercilessly - the other fucking your hole at a similar pace. Strangled yelps leave your mouth as his balls sinfully slap against your clit.

The room fills with loud, wet noises, and the slapping of skin. Both Satorus hunch over you in pleasure, muscles rippling. Your cunt quivers in an almost-animalistic way at the small grunts falling from their pretty lips.

You whine as he finds that one spot inside you which makes you see stars every time his hips meet yours. One hand - you were too far gone to recognize whose - reaches under you to draw harsh circles on your clit.

Tears spring to your eyes at the sheer overstimulation, and you rock your hips to meet his powerful cadence. One of your hands reaches for the other’s hip for stability, nose meeting his pelvis nails dragging along the soft skin. He grips your hair tighter, lips bitten and swollen at the stimulation.

From the way your pussy was clenching, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you were cumming again.

Now, throughout his life, Satoru has been called crazy many times. Crazy powerful, crazy handsome (in front of the mirror), and just downright mad. But it’s right about now - watching as you choke and cry around his own dick as he plows into you from behind - that he truly thinks he just might actually be a little crazy.

Slowing to shallow rocks, he focuses on his technique.

Satoru basks in amusement when your whines of disappointment at his slowing pace die down as you register the tugging and sucking on your nipples from below.

You gasp as you break away from the Satoru in front of you and look down, breath catching in your chest as you realize that your boyfriend has conjured up another clone of himself.

He was going to be the death of you.

“Pay attention, sweetheart.” you hear from behind you as Satoru starts up his relentless rhythm once more, hand now moving to squeeze and spread your ass.

You knew where this was going, and you didn’t mind it one bit.

The stretch of your cunt as it adapted to Satoru’s length burned almost as much as your nipples as his clone continued to bite and tease them. “Feels good, babe?” he sighs around your breasts. Yet your whines of pleasure are quickly muffled by the flushed tip kissing your lips once more.

“Hope you didn’t forget about me, pretty.”

“More- Hngh, Toru!” you whine, not sure which Satoru you were addressing anymore . All three of them speed up their motions, the pleasure from all points pushing you over the edge.

You as you cum fast and hard.

But your Satoru(s) don’t let you have a moment’s rest as your orgasm is quickly overshadowed by your boyfriend’s hands on your ass. Teasingly drawing circles around the rim. You shiver, hole quivering at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting you.

His cock still ramming into your abused cunt, Satoru enters a finger into your ass. Using his spit and your slick from before to stretch you out till he’s satisfied. “Fuck- Taking me so good, sweetheart.” he moans out at the sight of you being stretched out from all ends by him and only him.

You continue mewling as the pleasure overtakes you. He was going to ruin you.

Half-delirious from all the stimulation, you barely hear the lowly “Ready, babe?” from below you before Satoru pulls out and suddenly you’re flipped. Easily manhandled by your boyfriend, your head lolls against his replica’s strong shoulder as you’re caressed from three sides once more.

“Feeling alright, sweetheart?” your boyfriend rasps from above. Now hot and bothered once more from how your loving boyfriend was using you like a ragdoll, you gasp out “Yeah, Toru. Need you so bad.”

“Oh yeah?” he grins, lining himself up with your pulsing pussy. “Tell me how badly you want me in all your tight lil’ holes.”

You choke out a sob at the way your Satoru was teasing your folds with his thick cock. “So bad- Need you so bad Toru. Want you to fill me up everywhere.”

Arching your back, you grind your ass against the furiously hard cock prodding at your asshole. Hearing choked gasps from below you, your pussy clenches in anticipation around nothing. To Satoru, your arousal is almost palpable - as strong as the cursed technique in the air surrounding you two.

And that seems to be what finally makes Satoru snap before he sheathes himself entirely in your dripping cunt. Your strangled moans are cut off by the other Satoru slowly bullying himself into your other hole.

“Ah- Ah!” you yelp in both pain and pleasure as you’re stretched to your limits. You feel full. So full. You were going to snap - like a rubber band - and your boyfriend was going to be reveling in his success. The man in question furrows his brows, groaning at the sweet feeling of his pretty lil’ girlfriend being so tight.

A single tear streaming down your face is gently brushed away as a pair of muscular thighs come to rest beside your face. “Shhh, pretty. You can take it.”

Both of them start moving carefully.

Satoru would never admit it, but feeling his own dick stretch you out twofold has been a little fantasy tucked in a deep, dark corner of his mind ever since he realized the nefarious purposes his technique could be used for.

He could feel his other version pumping into you from behind as he ruts into your cunt mindlessly. The friction mixed with the gummy wetness of your pussy was mind-blowing - fuck, he really should have watched Naruto with you sooner.

Satoru gazes at you through half-lidded eyes as you press kittenish pecks to his clone’s cock above you. You stare right into your boyfriend’s eyes as you take the length into your mouth once more, inch by inch. Nose meeting his pelvis.

Shit. Satoru feels like he could pass out - whether from seeing the sinful image of all your holes filled by him or from the excessive use of his cursed technique, he doesn’t question. Your walls flutter, struggling to take him both.

Fuck, he really feels like he’s gonna explode.

Satoru pulls out fully before harshly thrusting into you once more, keeping up a pace that has his abs burning and you struggling for air. He sees another tear fall delicately down your cheek.

“My girl takes me so well, huh? Fuck. Made jus’ for me, sweetheart.”

The air was stagnant with the smell of sex and jujutsu.

All three Satorus thrust into you fiercely, the bed creaking furiously. Satoru has half a mind to worry about whether it would break down in the middle of all this. How inconvenient that would be, he’s so close.

It was animalistic, the way you could just sit there and take it as your boyfriend used you in all sorts of ways you never deemed possible.

You’re pretty sure your body is completely bruised and raw at this point. Eyes fluttering shut, tears cling to your lashes as you’re filled up. Your brain, as well as your holes, were overwhelmed with only Satoru Satoru Satoru. If your mouth wasn’t suckling on his length, you’re sure you’d be screaming loud enough for Satoru’s neighbor’s to file a noise complaint.

Good. So good.

Feeling that sharp tug on your stomach again, your legs flail as you steadily reach your climax. Held down by three sets of large hands - all caressing you relentlessly in various ways - you finally cum with an exhausted whimper.

Brain foggy and eyes unfocused, you barely feel the twitch of Satoru’s cock.

With a throaty moan, all three versions of your boyfriend cum - not one pulling out. Your senses are overtaken as Satoru doesn’t relent his pace, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into your abused pussy.

Ah- He felt he was gonna fuck another Gojo into you. Carry on his legacy. Shut those old cows up about a Gojo heir.

You’d look so round and beautiful with his kids.

“Only I get to cum in this pussy.” he drawls out as he keeps rutting his sensitive cock into you. Low whines get stuck in his throat as he loses himself in the feeling of your tight walls coated in his semen. His other versions were also at their limit, shooting out thick streams of cum to paint your face and ass.

You were so beautiful like this. Fucked out and covered in his seed.

His and only his.

As you slowly come to your senses, the first thing you feel is wet. Not from your own slick, but from Satoru’s thick cum - it was everywhere, decorating your lips, your tits, all the way down to your holes below.

The second thing you feel is raw. You weren’t too sure anymore that you’d be able to make it to that family dinner tomorrow, Satoru had absolutely gone all out tonight.

Laying there, willing yourself to move, you flinch as something soft and wet touches your legs. “Shhh…easy there, sweetheart. Get some rest, I’ll take care of it.” you hear the soothing whisper of your one and only boyfriend.

You muster up the strength to look up and see his gentle smile. “Rest.” he breathes out as he continues to wipe you down. In the back of your mind you register the distinct lack of the other presences of your boyfriend.

“T-Toru...” you were too fucked up to formulate proper sentences.

“Shhh it’s okay.”

At his tender whispers, you easily drift into a fatigued sleep. You dream of shadow clones and blue, blue skies.

Waking up after your brief nap, you find yourself dressed and cuddled by Satoru on a fresh set of sheets. “You okay?” he mutters in-between innocent pecks to your bruised lips.

At your affirmative nod, he probes further “Learn anything about my technique?”

“Absolutely not.” you sigh, pulling him in closer. As you snuggle into the crook of his neck, you almost miss the devious grin spreading across his face.

“Then…wanna try six next time?”

A/N. No Part 2 till I figure out better ways to differentiate these bitches LMAO.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jjk #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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s4pphoiduser · 2 years ago

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not to sound like a fucking loser but i feel like everyone has their thing and interests and friends who are into all the same specific interests as them and i feel like i'll never have that because im just not made for human connection on that level . whatever i guess

#feeling insane. not just bc im not good at making friends also bc i feel like im just not very pleasant to be around #like i do cuss a lot and say mean things (in a jokey way) and idk. maybe im just a shitty person.#and also bc i feel so out of place. just like in life. society. yanno. not in a im not like other girls way but in a #my body doesnt feel right and i dont know how to tell people. how do i talk to people about my wanting to look different #i even feel like an imposter saying im trans bc idk. what if im just pretending bc im a huge fake #obviously its not something that people fake lmfao but still-- is this like internalized transphobia?#anyway. a body that i dont belong in. a house i hate. a mind that hates me. maybe i sound dramatic i dontknow #whatever i guess lmfao #should i make a separate account for this sad blogging.

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beomiracles · 11 days ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 kinktober day 31

DREAM RECALL “Do you know what happened to the boy who cried wolf?” He asks, letting the question linger on his lips, moving in and out of you slowly as he awaits your response. You shake your head, slowly swallowing. — Yeonjun smirks, a smirk so wide that his sharp fangs dug into his bottom lip. “The wolf eats him.”

wc -> 8.7k (horribly proofread, means not proofread at all)

pairings supernatural!txt x fem!reader warnings um. everything. dark content, and I mean it. multiple threesomes, heavy dub con/coercion, multiple creampies, unprotected sex, biting, marking, rough manhandling, prey/predator dynamics, anal (f.rec), very little prep at times, throatfucking, facial, reader gets passed around, beomgyu is mean and a menace, softdom!taehyun, softdom!kai, dom!soobin, mean/hard dom!beomgyu, softdom!yeonjun, major character death, implied cannibalism? (sort of, I mean they're not really human but..) hair pulling, reader is lowkey terrefied for half this fic, also half of this is pure filth, um yes dark content cough.

#serene adds ✎ good evening. LMFAO. no. seriously. I um, have been working in this all day because it was at a solid 2k this morning and um, here we are. but I got it out on the 31st (for me) so that's a win in my books, seriously didn't think I was gonna make it. this isn't proofread, I wrote it and I posted, catch a spelling mistake and you close your goddamn eyes. I don't want to know about stuff like that. um is the story its based on obvious or not? let me know !! and also, read the warnings carefully please and thank you, if I've missed anything feel free to let me know :3 now I am declaring celibacy and I won't ever write smut again ! #kinktober killed me

EVENT POST

“And then, she ventured to the dwarves' house disguised as a peddler.” You lean in, the warm fire caressing your face and illuminating the sinister grin on your lips. “But not just any peddler, no, she sold lace, lace corsets.” Your eyes flicker over the confused expressions of your friends, some having frowns dented into their foreheads, but they were all listening keenly.

“Of course, as a naive and young girl, Snow White let her inside.” You lean back, hands clasping together over your knees. Around you, darkness lingers. It creeps around the edges of the fire you’d ignited, desperately trying to get closer, to swallow you whole. “Snow White lets the Evil Queen wrap her in lace, and the Evil Queen wraps it tight.” You point to your own torso, portraying the tight corset, clawing at your ribs.

“Snow White can’t breathe, in fact she can barely move.” Your voice turns from dramatic to gloomy, “She can only watch, watch as the Evil Queen steps out, leaving her for dead.” — “That’s not how the story goes!” One of your friends interrupts, and you turn to him with a grimace. “Well, if you’d let me finish Brian, you would’ve known that the dwarves brought her back to life when they found her, by undoing the tight corset”, you sneer.

“But that wasn’t in the book?” Lily suddenly quips from your left, her lips pursed in the same annoyingly know-it-all manner. With the small roll of your eyes, you reach for a stick, using it to poke at the slowly dying fire. “Well, that’s because you’ve only read the children's version”, you mutter, a bitter taste in your mouth, “in the real story, the Evil Queen tries to kill Snow White three times.”

Brian interrupts once more, the frown on his face nearly permanent now. “But that doesn’t make any sense, why would Snow White fall for the same tricks over and over?” — “Besides, it would only drag out the entire story telling”, he states as a matter-of-factly. You groan, running a tired hand over your face. “That’s because you don’t know how to build tension, it’s no fun if she only tries to kill her once, you have to amplify it by including multiple attempts.”

Lily huffs, shaking her head like she’d heard enough. Then she rises to her feet, announcing that she was heading to bed. — “Careful”, you say, causing her to freeze in her tracks as she turns to you with a questioning look. “Don’t you know that there are wolves in these woods?” You grin, eyes trailing her with a humorous glint. She scoffs, waving a dismissing hand as she brushes you off, “I’m sure they’re starving.”

With that, she ventures off to her own tent, leaving the rest of you to watch the weakening fire as the darkness around you crept closer.

⸝⸝

“Do you really think that there are wolves here?” Kian asks as the two of you scour the thick forest in search of more branches for the fire. The question doesn’t come as a surprise. He’d been walking on needles practically all evening. You knew that he was a coward, so it surprised you when he agreed on joining in for this trip. — “Sure, why wouldn’t there be?” You shrug, trying your hardest to conceal your amusement when he audibly swallows, eyes darting around the dark tree stems.

“Yeah but they.. They don’t eat people? Right?” He wonders, hands nervously fiddling with flashlight, causing its light to bounce off the claw-like arms of the trees. “Don’t be an idiot, Kian”, you huff, gathering as much firewood as possible in your arms. — “R-Right, sorry”, he murmurs, his cheeks tinted a light pink as he clears his throat. “And even if they did, I’m sure you don’t rank high on their list”, you say, the teasing edge to your voice managing to lighten the mood somewhat.

You continue to gather materials in silence. Working to get done as fast as possible, eager to return to the warm and inviting fire. The scattered branches crack under your weight, but besides that, nothing. It’s quiet, far too quiet, the sounds of nature seemingly muted. Almost like there was something out there, something even nature itself feared, and so it hid in silence. The thought makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and you desperately try to shake it off.

Your attention turns to Kian, who seems just as miserable, if not worse. A sly smirk tugs at your lips.

“Wait.” Your voice rings out, piercing the heavy air and your friend immediately freezes. “What?” His head snaps in your direction, fear clouding his eyes and you have to bite back a chuckle. Instead, you swallow, bottom lip stuck out into a pout as you glance around. “Did you hear that?” — “Hear what?” Kian sounds panicked now, the flashlight in his hand trembling as he frantically searches for any evident danger.

Your gaze drifts to somewhere behind him. There’s only darkness, an eternal and dreadful darkness. But he doesn’t have to know that. — With a nearly ear piercing shriek, you stumble backward. “Oh my god! Behind you!” You point a shaking finger in that very direction and Kian pathetically falls to the ground with a loud scream. He keeps yelling for help as he tears his way through the mud and dirt, running from a faceless monster.

The sight makes you double over in laughter as you drop half the branches you’d gathered. And only when he’s calmed down enough to make out your excitement over his own fear, does he realize his mistake. — “That was not funny!” He shouts, and his voice trembles just as much as he does. You shake your head, wiping away imaginary tears as you watch him gingerly get up. “Oh but it was!” You exclaim, “You should’ve seen your face!”

Kian huffs out a frustrated breath, dusting off his jeans as he picks up the flashlight he’d dropped. He turns to you with a small scowl, but it does nothing to simmer down the laughter bubbling within you.

“I hope those wolves get you next”, he seethes, before turning on his heel and walking off, leaving you in the dark.

⸝⸝

It’s far into the cold and dark night when the final participants of your small group head for their tents. Unlike Lily, joined by Brian who’d turned in early, the remainder of you had stayed by the fire, taking turns telling chilling tales, none of which were real, of course. Though you’d given your best in trying to scare the others by mentioning the supposed wolves stalking the gloomy forest. Because if there was anything scarier than horror stories, it was the real dangers of the outside world.

Kian, on the other hand, hadn’t spoken a word to you since you returned to camp. You figured he might still be upset over your small and harmless prank. Though far too tired to deal with it tonight, you decide to confront it in the morning. — To your fortune, you were to share a tent with Lei, who at least seemed willing to talk to you.

As the two of you settle inside your warm sleeping bags, she turns to you. “Do you really think we’re safe in here?” The question catches you off guard, sure why wouldn’t you be? People camped in this forest all the time. Right? — “Why, did those children’s stories scare you?” You can’t help the teasing tone of your voice, wiggling your eyebrows in a taunting manner as you watch her face scrunch up in disgust.

“Of course not”, she huffs, pulling the blanket over her chest, “It’s just…The nearest town is an hour away, what if something happens?” — It’s with a bitter taste in your mouth that you consider the fact that she might be right. Help was far away, should anything happen. But who says it would?

“We’ll be fine”, you shrug, flopping down onto your pillow as you get comfortable. “You think?” Lei whispers as she, too, prepares to sleep. You yawn, breathing out a low, “mhm.”

A brief silence follows after that, the sounds of your friends, shuffling about in their own tents slowly dying out. All that’s left is the quiet sounds of night, leaves rustling followed by the occasional creek of tree branches as they give way to the wind. — You think Lei might have fallen asleep, but the erratic pattern of her breathing gives her away.

“I mean, any kind of danger is unlikely to show up at our doorstep”, you then add in a sleepy voice. “Unless…” You trail off, seemingly lost in thought, but the word is left hanging in the air and you soon hear Lei shifting in her sleeping bag as she turns to you. — “Unless what?” She whispers, sounding almost urgent. In the dim light, she’s unable to catch the menacing grin on your lips as you say:

“Unless you go looking for it.”

⸝⸝

You’d always considered yourself a heavy sleeper. And most nights would pass you by without a single disturbance. You rarely dreamt either. — So when you’re suddenly jolted awake, sweat clinging to your entire body and your breathing labored, you knew that something was wrong. It takes you a moment to regain your bearings, fingers curling against the flimsy material of your sleeping bag as your head whips in the direction of Lei. She’s still sleeping soundly, like there wasn’t a single fault in the world.

Confused, you glance around the small tent. But everything seemed to be in order. Weird. Oh come on, were you seriously acting paranoid right now? That was Kian’s job. With a small, half-hearted huff, you prepare to lie back down, when suddenly, a voice, somewhere outside, calls for you. — You know that it’s you it calls for, because why else would it use your name. Your mind works overtime as you try and pair the low and almost animalistic drawl of their tongue with one of your friends. But you couldn’t.

Maybe, you were hearing things, maybe you’d finally gone crazy. No, you shake your head, eyes drifting to your fingers as they twiddle with the zipper of your sleeping bag. But the voice doesn’t give up, and when it calls for you a third time, you finally get up. — You don’t feel fear, only anger. Which one of your idiot friends decided that it was a good idea to pull a prank such as this, at such an hour.

Yanking the tent open, you crawl out. The night is chilly against your down-dressed body, and the thin undershirt and pants you wore suddenly did little to warm you. With your arms around your chest, you stumble past the other closed tents. There was no one here. You frown, peering out into the dark as you search for whoever had called you. Then your mind suddenly pieces together the evening’s events. Kian.

With gritted teeth you storm toward his tent. But as your fingers clasp around the zipper to the opening, the voice calls out once more. This time it’s louder, still raspy, and almost…inhumane, but you can clearly make out the syllables of your name. — It’s coming from the forest. Alright, that’s it. If Kian wanted to get back at you, then you’d let him.

After scurrying back to your own tent and fetching a flashlight, you turn to the dark and gloomy forest. And with only one thing in mind, you cross the barrier taking you into the eerie woods.

“Kian!”

Your voice echoes off the tree branches, and the leaves crunch beneath the sole of your shoes with each step you take. The flashlight provides a narrow and minimal view, but you follow it thoroughly, intent on not getting lost. — “Kian, I swear to god, you could’ve done this in the morning!” But there’s never a response. Your empty threats of beheading your friend linger in the thick and quiet air.

It’s only when you stop, taking a moment to check your surroundings with the use of your shit piece of light, that you realize just how quiet it actually is. Apart from the heavy steps of your own feet, there was nothing. The menacing hurl of the wind, gone. The rustle of leaves, vanished. Wildlife, nonexistent. — You were all alone, and when that realization dawned on you, it became clear that Kian had never come out here in the first place.

So who called you?

There’s a slight shift in the air, it grows from thick and dense, heavy with anticipation, to loud and almost dangerous, as if the very forest was trying to alert you of something. And in the distance, in the dark, almost blended together with the trees. A pair of red eyes linger. — Your heart sinks all the way down to your stomach. Something was out there, and that something knew that you were there too.

An animal of some sort, it must be. But what? You didn’t want to find out. Instead, you take a small step back, the crackling of leaves is deafening and you swallow a small cry. You can’t tell if those red eyes are coming closer, the uncertainty puts you on edge. But a rustle to your left garners your attention. Your head jerks in its direction only to be met by the exact same sight.

Another pair of red eyes.

Two? You shake your head, that was impossible, and what kind of animal had red eyes? You were seeing things, you must be. Another rustle, and another pair of eyes, this time to your right. Three?

This time you can tell they’re creeping closer, slowly, as if sizing you up. You point your flashlight in their direction, swinging it like a sword, as if you stood any chance against whatever lurked in these woods. You take another step back, and soon the eyes are given a materialized form.

Your jaw slacks, and if you thought that fear was about to consume you before, it was nothing against the bucket of ice cold water just poured over you. — Wolves. Actual and real wolves. But that was… “Impossible”, you breathe, “there are no wolves in these woods.” You blink, shaking your head, praying that this was all a bad dream.

They were big, bigger than any you’d ever seen before. Their fur is dark and ruffled, torn in places, roughed up from living out in such harsh conditions. The one up front, a dark gray, bares its sharp teeth, a low growl rumbling from its chest as it creeps forward. Their ears are pointed back, and they move with slow and calculated steps, as if circling their prey. The brown ones either side of you draw in closer as well.

You shout for them to stay back, desperately flashing the light in the bright and fiery eyes. But nothing seems to work. Terrified, you stumble backward, only to trip over a snare and lose balance. — You hit the ground with a loud thud, but before you can get up, a warm puff of air hits the back of your head. You don’t have to turn around, you already know what’s waiting behind you. A fourth. Another one, just like the ones before you.

There must be a way out. After all, they’re just animals. There had to be a way to outsmart them, to get ahead. Remaining frozen for a few seconds, you find that the wolf behind you makes no move to attack. Why? Why did it hesitate? — You didn’t care, you saw your opportunity and took it.

Leaves fly everywhere as you scramble to your feet, pointing the bright light in the eyes of the wolf before you. It’s so close that the flashlight momentarily blinds it, opening up your escape route. — From there, you run. You run until your legs feel as if they are about to bend in half, you run until your thighs ache, until your calves burn and until your chest physically hurts.

You can’t see, even with the light gripped tightly in one hand, your field of vision is limited. You scream, yell, cry out for help. “Wolves!” — “There’s wolves!” Your faint pleas are disregarded by the menacing forest, and its darkness seems eternal. Branches whip at your face, thorns cutting the thin layer of clothes you wore, your shoes drenched in a thick layer of mud.

How long have you been running for? Shouldn’t you be back at camp by now? Had it not been for the sounds of leaves rustling behind you, indicating that the wolves were still following, you’d probably been on the ground long ago. But you had to keep going. There was no way you could give up now.

Then you see it. Light, warm and inviting, a flicker of hope. You cling to it, upping your pace as you call out once more. “Help! Please help me!” The closer you get, the brighter the light shines, and the bigger your hopes grow. You can make out a figure, it’s dark shadow standing in stark contrast to the warm fire burning.

As you approach, you realize that it’s…a cave. Hesitation clouds you, but only for a moment. Then the terrifying dangers of your situation all come crashing down on you. With a final call for help, you burst into the cave. — “Please help me..” You don’t even realize you’re crying, heavy tears flowing down your cheeks as you cling to the stranger, face buried in their chest.

The feeling of strong arms around you sends a wave of relief through your trembling body as the person holds you tight. “O-Oh my god…You have to help me.. There w-wolves out there!” You sob, fingers clawing at their shirt. Just as the words leave your lips, do you hear it, the sounds of their approach. They were coming. You quickly grow desperate as you cling to the figure, a man, a tall man. “Please, please, we have to go!”

Your head jerks toward the opening of the cave just in time to see the four wolves entering, and they look ready to eat you whole. “Oh my god we’re going to die, we…” Your words get caught in your throat as you catch the soft chuckle, rumbling deep within the man's chest.

“There are indeed wolves in these woods”, he then says, his voice is a low, almost animalistic drawl, and you immediately recognize it. It was the voice who’d called for you. Finally you look up, only to be met with a pair of equally red eyes, though these belonged to a human. His dark and ruffled hair reminds you of the fur of those wolves, and the small cut along his chin seems far too uncanny.

“But you already knew that didn’t you? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling your friends all night.” He says, lips tugging into a sinister smirk as he watches the color drain from your face. “Say, where are they now?” — It was as if all air had been sucked from your chest, your whole body going rigid as you remained frozen in place.

The man laughs, a cruel and raspy laugh. He shakes his head, “Are you familiar with the saying ‘to cry wolf’?” He then asks, tongue darting out to drag across his bottom lip, and in the warm glow of the fire, you catch the sharp fangs resting in his mouth. Whatever this man was, it was not human. — Quietly you shake your head, the phrase sounded familiar but your mind was far too scrambled to ever make a connection.

He doesn’t seem bothered by this, in fact he seems to enjoy the process of dragging your inevitable fate out even longer. — His breath is warm against your face as he leans down, and his arms around your body no longer feel safe, but like they could kill you. “Means one too many lies might seal your fate”, he drawls, the sentence hanging in the thick and heavy air.

You don’t have time to ponder his words, for another voice shatters the brief silence. “Alright, that’s enough. You’ve had your fun Yeonjun, let us have a go now.” — Your head immediately jerks in the direction of the four wolves…except, they weren’t wolves anymore. The one who’d previously spoken up, approaches, the dark brown hair on his head falling down his neck and the sides of his face in an uneven mess.

Yeonjun scoffs, his arms around you tightening their hold as he shoves you against his chest. “I’ve barely gotten started”, he snaps, “You’ll get your turn, Beomgyu.” — Beomgyu rolls his eyes, seemingly displeased with the other’s answer as he takes another step forward, only to be stopped by a much taller one. His hair was as black as the night sky itself, and the red in his eyes seemed a lot cooler than the fiery one of his friend. “Don’t be an idiot”, he sneers, “as if you’re getting a taste before me.”

Beomgyu gives the taller a harsh shove, a scowl crossing his features. “Fuck off”, he spits. Next to you, Yeonjun chuckles, “Listen to Soobin, won’t you? Don’t you know that the elders eat first?” — Their conversation made your stomach draw into knots, you had walked right into their trap, without even knowing it. Everything had been planned, down to the very, detail, and you had just let it happen.

“That’s not fair!” The gray haired one objects as he takes a step forward. “I found her.” — “So what?” Beomgyu turns to him with a grimace, “You wanna play finders keepers? Because that’s fucking childish, Taehyun.” — The frown on Taehyun’s face morphs into one of pure rage as he takes a charging step forward, and he would’ve collided with Beomgyu, had it not been for the fifth one who cut in between the two.

“At this rate, the sun will rise before we’ve even come to a decision”, he growls, easily shoving them apart as his red eyes flicker over to you. — Yeonjun hums, his fingers splayed across the back of your head as he keeps you close. “Then let’s hear Kai’s suggestion”, he says, his voice laced with a fabricated hint of intrigue.

Kai shrugs, an almost apathetic look striking his features, the soft brown on his hair made him look far more approachable than his peers. “I say we share.” His simple statement is followed by groans and complaints from the others, all but Yeonjun, who quietly hums to himself. — “I’ve heard humans are quite flexible”, he then adds as he takes another step forward, eyes sizing you up as his hand reaches for you.

But he never manages to touch you, for Yeonjun pulls back with a small hiss. The once nonchalant and almost soft look of his eyes immediately vanishes as Kai’s entire demeanor changes. “Come on, don’t be greedy”, he huffs, taking another step forward and this time, he’s followed by the others.

It doesn’t take long for Yeonjun to realize that he’s outnumbered and with a frustrated groan, he loosens his grip on you. Your legs feel as though they might give out any second now, but you remain standing. Eyes darting around the cave, you search for a way out, you didn’t know what these creatures were, and you didn’t care to find out either, all you knew was that you had to get away. And with Yeonjun letting you go, you saw an opportunity.

Your footsteps echo off the damp cave walls as you tear yourself from his loose grasp, sprinting toward the opening. You don’t make it far until something hard crashes into you from behind, another person. — Groaning you blink as you spit the dirt from your mouth, fingers helplessly clawing at the ground as you will yourself to move forward. But the weight of someone else on top of you makes it impossible.

Long hair tickles the sides of your face and you shiver as you feel a hot tongue slide against the shell of your ear. Beomgyu’s voice comes out a breathless laugh as he says: “Got you.” — Your scream fills the cave as he flips you over, caging you against the cold and hard stoned surface. His hands move feverishly along your sides, pushing your already torn undershirt up above your stomach, causing goosebumps to ripple across your skin.

But before he can get any further, he’s stopped by Taehyun as he shoves him off of you. “Sorry about that”, he flashes you an apologetic smile, sharp fangs glinting in the warm light of the fire. The second scream about to rip from your throat gets caught there as he scoops you into his arms, barely managing to dodge Beomgyu as he launches after him.

He sets you down near the fire, ignoring the complaints of both Kai and Soobin as they argue on taking you deeper into the dark and cold cave. Taehyun shakes his head, “She’ll freeze if we do that”, he mutters, “Don’t you know that human bodies are weak?” — “What so you’re saying we should attend to her every need now?” Beomgyu snarls as he joins Taehyun next to you. “She’s going to end up as dinner anyway, I don’t see the big deal”, he huffs.

Taehyun rolls his eyes as his hands caress the sides of your arms, the movement is surprisingly gentle and he quickly manages to warm your frozen body up. You gulp as your eyes flicker between their small exchange. — “It’s more a respect kind of thing”, Taehyun explains, “besides, it’ll feel better this way.” His red eyes snap over to yours, desire swirling in the depths of crimson. “You want us to make you feel good, don’t you?” He then asks, fingers hovering above the hem of your thin pants.

Confused, your lips part, and your nervous gaze darts across the cave. Yeonjun and Soobin linger by the shadows, and had it not been for their glowing eyes, you probably would’ve missed them. Kai on the other hand, sits not far from Beomgyu as he watches you with an almost clouded expression. — Your heart rams against your chest, your whole body has been on high alert for so long that you were bound to collapse at any given moment.

Shouldn't they have killed you already? Torn you to pieces, buried you alive? Who are these creatures and what did they want from you? The question in itself is hardly up for debate and you swallow thickly, hands digging into the uneven layer of dirt and stone beneath you. Make you feel good? What did that mean? — In any case, it couldn’t be much worse than death, could it?

Slowly, you nod. And the smirk that stretches across Taehyun’s lips makes a chill slither up your spine. The grip around your arms suddenly becomes firm, but not enough to hurt. “You’ll help us, won’t you?” He drawls, gaze flitting down your sparsely dressed body. “We’ll make you feel good in return.” You didn’t know what his words meant, but you didn’t want to find out what gruesome fate might await you, should you deny them. So you nod once more, uttering a meek, “yes.”

The smirk plastered on his face only widens as Taehyun presses his warm lips against your cold neck. Your eyes shoot open, hands coming to rest atop his shoulders as you try to push him back, but it was to no use. And soon you feel a warm body joining him as Beomgyu snuck up behind you, his hungry fingers sliding across your sides as Taehyun tugs your leggings down.

“W-Wait, what’s going��going on?” You stammer, thighs clamping shut around Taehyun’s hand as it slithers between them, fingers insistently pushing against your panties. Were they not about to kill you? Tear your limbs apart and rip your chest open? Why were they.. Your train of thought is interrupted by Taehyun who shoves your panties to the side, pushing two slender fingers inside your unprepared cunt.

The shrill whine you emit, echoes off the cavern walls and your back arches off of Beomgyu’s chest as his hands, locked over your hips, keep you in place. His breath is warm against your neck, long hair tickling you as he presses wet kisses to your shoulder, fervently tugging your shirt down.

Taehyun has leaned back enough to where he can clearly watch as his fingers slide between your folds. His thumb on your clit sends a small jolt through your body and your stomach flutters. “More?” He suddenly asks, the question coming out as a low growl and before you can consider his next words, you find yourself nodding.

Without hesitating, he adds a third finger, shoving them as far as they would go, intent on pulling as many lewd sounds from you as possible. — Behind you, Beomgyu groans, his hands digging into the bone of your hips with a force that was bound to bruise. The outline of his hard cock brushes against your lower back and you shudder as your eyes screw shut. “You’re too slow”, he snarls to which Taehyun shoots him a hateful glare.

Your head weakly turns in the direction of the others. Soobin and Yeonjun remain hidden in the shadows, the sight of their red eyes piercing through the dark. You can hear them talking, and though you can’t pick up on the conversation taking place, it wasn’t particularly hard to guess as their glowing eyes trailed every inch of your body. — Kai had shifted even closer, his jaw clenched as his gaze strayed by Taehyun’s fingers working your soft cunt open.

You yelp when Beomgyu suddenly shifts behind you, the sounds of fabric being torn filling the dark space as he tears your panties off. “Enough”, he growls, finally making Taehyun back off as he withdraws his now soaked fingers from your throbbing core. — Confused, you turn to look at him, only to be stopped by Taehyun as his hand clasps around your chin. “Forget about him”, he jeers, nudging your thighs open to make room for himself between them.

“Give her here”, he barks, arm snaking around your waist as he tugs you from Beomgyu’s grasp. You barely manage to process what’s happening until you’re seated on his lap, your leggings discarded in the process. The cool air makes you shiver, the fire next to you doing little to ease the biting chill of the night. — You find Taehyun already looking at you, one arm possessively wrapped around your torso whilst the other one works on undoing the pants he wore.

Another pair of hands join in, Beomgyu, you think to yourself, as he lifts you enough for Taehyun to slide the head of his cock against your dripping cunt. You whimper, fingers digging into his broad shoulders as you bite your tongue. Embarrassment and shame creeps up your neck, painting your face a bright read as you force yourself to look away from the prying eyes around you. The others don’t seem to mind, as if this was normal to them.

With one deliberate thrust, Taehyun eases himself inside of you, groaning when you immediately clench down around him. — “How is she?” Kai’s voice suddenly breaks the momenteral silence, and Taehyun cracks an eye open, though not bothering to even glance in the direction of his friend. “Perfect. Fucking perfect”, he states, eyes hungirly roaming your exposed neck before leaning in to drag his sharp teeth against the skin there.

“Bet she’s just as perfect from behind”, Beomgyu comments, and the words make you go cold. Craning your head to peer his way, you find him already jerking himself off, thick cock sliding between his fingers as he coats himself in his own arousal. — Your eyes widen when you realize just exactly what he’s planning, quickly shaking your head as you turn back to Taehyun with a pleading expression.

He returns your helpless call with a small grin, not bothering to tear himself from your neck as he assaults it with his lips, leaving all kinds of red hues in his wake. “You said you’d help us, didn’t you?” He murmurs, as if reminding you of an oath you’d pledged to. You didn’t know what would happen if you refused, the thought in itself scared you more than the creature behind you as he aligned himself with your ass.

Letting your head fall to his shoulder, you screw your eyes shut, fingers tearing Taehyun’s shirt apart when Beomgyu pushed inside your tight hole without warning. — “Fuck”, he exhales, the warmth of his breath sliding down the side of your face before he presses a kiss to your cheek. “She really is perfect”, he muses, large hands feeling up your chest before he slowly begins to move.

Their thrusts were uncoordinated and unsynced. When paired with the blaring pain Beomgyu caused, and the nearly unbearably stretch of Taehyun’s cock inside your cunt; you weren’t sure of how long you were going to last. — Above their heavy panting, you catch the soft groan Kai emits as he, too, jerks himself off to the sight before him.

You whimper when Beomgyu’s fingers pinch your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt, moaning as Taehyun applies pressure to your fluttering clit. They’re both kissing and biting at your neck, making sure to not leave a single spot unharmed. It felt almost as if you were being torn in half as Beomgyu yanked you backward with each thrust up your ass, meanwhile Taehyun tugged you forward as his cock twitched deep inside of your cunt.

“Quit being greedy”, Beomgyu snarls as his arm wraps around your abdomen, pulling you flush against his chest. Taehyun huffs out a short breath as his hips jerk forward, hands grabbing at your hips to keep you close. — With one final thrust he releases inside of your already sore cunt, making sure to fuck his cum back into you deliberately as the soft his of a curse passes his lips. His grip on your waist becomes momentarily weakened and Beomgyu seizes the opportunity as he pulls you into his own lap, slamming your ass down on his thick cock.

You practically scream at the burning intrusion as your thighs twitch on top of his. Taehyun runs a lazy hand through his hair as he tucks himself back into his pants, eyes trained to the way your tits bounced beneath the fabric of his shirt. — The feeling of sharp fangs, prodding against the already bruised skin of your neck, makes you spiral as Beomgyu threatens to pierce right through your beating arteries.

You’ve stopped caring for the others, their gloomy and watchful gazes mean nothing when all you can think about is the pleasurable burn, spreading through your body like wildfire. Beomgyu’s touches were nothing like Taehyun’s, there was not an ounce of tenderness, for he didn’t seem to hold that trait.

He stills inside of you, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you as he cums with a strangled groan. Unlike Taehyun, he makes no move to preserve it further, instead he pulls out, and before you know it, you’re back where you started, on the cold and dirty ground. — Your whole body aches, it feels like you’ve run a marathon, perhaps such a thing would’ve been easier. But before you can get up, Taehyun’s by your side again.

His slender fingers are gentle as he hoists you into his arms, sending a small glare in the direction of Beomgyu. “She won’t last if you treat her like that”, he argues, cradling your nearly limp body to his chest. When he doesn’t receive a reply, Taehyun’s attention returns to you as he brushes a few strands of hair from your face. “You’re perfect”, he whispers, and though his words were likely meant to reassure you, it gave an opposite effect. But you liked Taehyun, he wasn’t as rough as the others had been.

Though your peace was short lived, because only moments later, another set of hands came grabbing at you. “My turn”, Kai’s voice is eager, bubbling with excitement as Taehyun hesitantly hands you over, like you were a piece of meat, and Kai accepts you with open arms. — His embrace is…surprisingly warm, soft. When peering up at him through your lashes, you find him smiling down at you, but there was something slightly off about the way his lips pulled into a grin. Something you couldn’t quite place.

He kisses your forehead, the action just as sweet as the rest of his demeanor. Only when the sounds of approaching footsteps reach your ears, do you tense, and so does he. The looming presence of someone else makes you shiver, and you don’t dare turn your head to see who it was, clinging to Kai as your last string of hope. — “What?” He huffs, but receives no answer from the newcomer as they crouch down next to him.

“Weren’t you the one to suggest that we share?” Soobin’s gloomy voice echoes off the damp cave walls and you watch as Kai’s expression morphs into a small scowl. “Or did that not apply to you?” He then continues, a large hand reaching up to caress the back of your head. — Kai mutters a few short sentences of incoherent murmur before finally budging.

“But I want her this time”, he quickly adds, his voice coming out snappy. Soobin raises a dark brow in the younger’s direction. — “It’s only fair”, he whines, “I didn’t get any last time.” His once tender grip on your exhausted body turns into an almost possessive one as Kai tugs you against his chest.

Soobin seems to be considering his words for a brief moment before giving in with a reluctant sigh, settling back on the ground opposite you as he gets comfortable. Kai on the other hand, wastes no time in pressing his face against the juncture of your neck, inhaling your scent with a satisfied hum. His hands wandered down your body, not caring for the way you flinched as his fingers dipped between your legs.

Gathering the remnants of your arousal, mixed with the release of both Taehyun and Beomgyu, Kai shoves those very fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you. “More”, he exhales, his free hand already stroking his hard cock, it was flushed a deep red, the tip on the verge of turning purple and you wondered how long he’d edged himself for whilst watching you.

You whimper in slight protests as he lifts your tired body from his lap, fat cock sliding against your already sensitive cunt, still on the brink of the orgasm you never reached. — Somewhere behind you, Beomgyu and Taehyun shuffled about as they got comfortable by the fire, their red and gloomy eyes never leaving you. Yeonjun remained in the shadows, his lingering presence casting the already dark cave in an eerie glow.

Soobin on the other hand, is lazily palming himself through the worn out jeans he wore, eyes focused on the way Kai slowly slid inside your fluttering cunt. Your soft moan is swallowed by his lips on your own, and your eyes widen, surprised by the intimacy of him initiating a kiss. — A kiss that was very quickly broken by a hand on the back of your head. Soobin’s fingers curl around your hair as he yanks you back, forcing the two of you apart as Kai whines in disapproval.

“We don’t do that. Remember?” Soobin grunts, and he’s now looming above you, dark gaze staring you down. — Kai grunts out a short response of “I know”, his attention returning to your neck as he continues to suck at the already red skin, hips stuttering up into your cunt that clenched around him with each thrust.

You whimper in surprise as large fingers hook around the hem of your shirt. Soobin takes his time, slowly ripping the garment apart as he tears it from your chest. The cool falls across you like a blanket, goosebumps rising on your round tits as your nipples harden under the low temperatures. His hands are on your body within seconds, feeling up every inch of you, squeezing the soft flesh of your chest, rolling your nipples between his fingers. His touches are gentle, nothing at all like Beomgyu’s harsh tugs and you find yourself slowly relaxing.

But letting your guard down was never a good idea. And soon, Soobin’s hand had traveled all the way to your face, locking around your chin as he tilted your head up. Your eyes widen as they’re met with the sight of his cock, only inches from your already open mouth. — You swallow, trying not to consider the sheer size of it as Soobin shoves his tip against your lips, smearing the pre-cum that had spilled from the slit all over your face.

You resist a small gag as he slides himself into your hot mouth, your tongue caressing the thick veins pulsing around his shaft as he practically tore your jaw open. — A harsh thrust delivered by Kai makes you whine as you stutter around Soobin’s cock, accidently taking him even deeper, causing him to groan above you as his hand slides down the back of your head.

“F-Fuck, you really are perfect”, Kai breathes, sweat clinging to his forehead as his hand lays splayed across your stomach, pressing down hard enough to where he can feel the outline of his cock pumping in and out of you. — You can barely see through the tears pooling in your eyes as Soobin continues to fuck your throat, forcing you to take him so deep that you thought you might be sick.

Yet you find yourself reaching out, searching for something to hold onto, your hands landing on Kai’s shoulders. He groans as he feels your nails digging into his skin, tongue dragging across your collarbones as he sucks red marks on to your chest, continuing the pattern left by Beomgyu and Taehyun. The two were currently watching you intently, Beomgyu lazily stroking himself as he whispers something only for Taehyun to hear, and Taehyun grimaces at whatever was being said though he doesn't make any further comment on it.

Even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel Yeonjun’s presence, lingering by the outskirts of everything taking place, watching from afar. The mere thought of him made your blood run cold. Instead you try to focus on relaxing, unclenching your jaw as you let Soobin use your throat as he pleases. Every twitch of his large cock on your tongue made you gag, but there was little room for any protests and so you endured.

His hand in your hair keeps you in place, your neck bent at his will. The erratic rhythm of his hips, once force and harsh, turn sloppy and almost lazy. With a small hiss he pulls back, just enough to where his tip rests on your tongue as thick ropes of cum coats your waiting mouth. Your eyes screw shut as he tilts your head down, coating your cheeks in his release, making the heavy liquid mix with your tears as it slides down your cheeks.

The salty aftertaste lingers on your tongue as you with a trembling hand wipe your lips. Not bothering to tend to you further, Soobin steps back to join the others by the other side of the fire. Your eyes follow his retreating figure, confused by his sudden dismissal, but Kai’s strained groan as he fucks up into you, quickly snaps your attention back to him.

His eyes are bleary, glazed over in adoration as he peers up at you. “You’re so pretty”, he sighs, “the prettiest one yet.” You didn’t know what he meant by that, you figured it was best not to ask. You remain silent, biting your tongue as you feel your orgasm approach for a second time that night. — Kai wasn’t late to catch on, his fingers moving down to where your bodies joined, thumb pressing against your throbbing clit.

The tears you had just managed to stop, resurfaced in an instant as you clung to him. It didn’t take long for you to finally tip over the edge, your mind spiraling as your cunt clenched around Kai’s cock with a newfound vigor. You hear him groan, but the sound is a faint background noise, it gets lost in the deafening and ringing sound, filling your ears. All you can think about is the immense shockwaves of pleasure pulsing through you.

Your grip on Kai’s shoulders grows weaker by the second, until you’re no longer able to hold yourself up. Your eyes grow heavy as fatigue washes over your drained body. The warmth when he finishes inside of you is faint, not nearly as rough or palpable as the others, and before you know it, everything is dark.

It’s dark for an eternity, you think it might never end. Was this death? Being cursed to an eternal darkness, unable to feel, unable to think, unable to speak. This couldn’t possibly be it. There had to be more. — You tell yourself that there was something else, something greater waiting for you. This wasn’t where you died. That didn’t even make any sense.

And slowly, you begin to feel again. The rough and cold texture of stone and dirt, it envelops your body, your body that aches, it aches and burns. You tear your eyes open, thinking that maybe it had all just been a bad dream, a very, very, bad dream. But you’re met with the same cold and dark cavern walls, they’re laughing at you, the walls. They’re looking down on you.

You feel exposed under their gaze, naked and cold. Afraid. Kai is nowhere to be seen, nor is Soobin, Beomgyu or Taehyun. Your head pounds as you gingerly try to sit up, your arms trembling under the mere weight of your upper body. You collapse against the hard stone once more, feeling as though you’d been drained of life.

It’s quiet, far too quiet, just as quiet as the forest had been. Something lingered here, something that scared even nature itself. It’s then you hear it, the soft rustle of someone else, moving through the shadows. — Red eyes cutting through the darkness, sharp as daggers. And soon enough, Yeonjun emerges from the dark. He moves slowly, taking his time as he approaches your unmoving figure, sprawled out on the floor.

The fire wasn’t nearly as strong anymore and a different kind of gloom had settled over the cold and wet cave. — When he reaches you, he crouches, bringing a gentle hand out to brush your hair back. “Poor girl”, he hums, “Should’ve known better than to go out in the woods all by yourself.” His voice comes out as the same low and animalistic drawl he’d used to lure you out in the first place.

You barely notice it when he flips you over, tugging your lifeless body over, making your naked back scrape across the rough stones. His hands spread your thighs apart, eyes trailing over the bruises left on your hips, on your chest, your neck, your arms. — He sighs, shaking his head, like he was disappointed with what he saw. “This is what I get for letting them go first”, he murmurs to himself, the back of his hand swiping away the remnants of cum that stained your cheeks.

“But you’ll help me too, won’t you?” He then says, and the tone he uses is one so sweet, your stomach almost flutters. Slowly, you nod, lips parting in a reply you never get to utter as Yeonjun presses the tip of his cock against your overstimulated and bruised cunt. Your soft gasp bounces off the walls of the cave, followed by a wanton moan as Yeonjun slowly slides inside your warm core. You’re the warmth they’ve all been looking for, the only thing that kept the cold out.

He hovers above you, red eyes boring into yours, but they’re not menacing like Beomgyu’s, not filled with adoration like Kai’s, they’re… It’s like they’re looking right through you, baring you open and dwelling deep into your mind, gauging out the darkest of secrets that you kept there. — Yeonjun moves slowly, with deliberate and drawn out thrusts as he feels you clench around him, thighs twitching with every wave of pleasure.

“You should know better than this, shouldn’t you?” He drawls, relishing in the way your eyes widen at his words. — “So keen on warning your friends, but you forget to keep yourself safe.” He sounds almost sad, melancholic, as if he was grieving you already. But then his expression turns dark, darker than anything you’d ever seen before, and his hips snap against yours. “Or were you?”

You shiver, avoiding to look at him as your head falls to the side, eyes drifting over the slowly dying fire, the last sparks of life, slowly descending. You felt oddly connected to that fire. A strange spark of resemblance perhaps. — But Yeonjun’s slender fingers around your chin, pulls you back, forcing your hopeless eyes to meet his.

“Do you know what happened to the boy who cried wolf?” He asks, letting the question linger on his lips, moving in and out of you slowly as he awaits your response. You shake your head, slowly swallowing. — Yeonjun smirks, a smirk so wide that his sharp fangs dug into his bottom lip.

“The wolf eats him.”

His statement makes your heart drop, realization slowly clawing its way through your clouded mind. The fear was evident on your face, you could tell by the way Yeonjun’s eyes lit up, a newfound hunger swirling within them. — He leans down, sharp teeth scraping across your neck, just like all the others had, but this time, it’s with a promise of death.

But despite the dangers of your situation, your body keeps on inviting him in, letting him feed on your fear and arousal as Yeonjun continues to pump his hard cock in and out of your throbbing cunt, and you enjoyed every twisted second of it.

For a moment, you thought about your friends, you thought about them, quietly sleeping in their tents, blissfully unaware of the cruel beings surrounding them. You thought about what might take place the following day, a day you were sure you wouldn’t get to experience. You wondered if they would be looking for you, you wondered if they would care. There was so much you had yet to do, but when you try and think of something, anything, your mind goes blank.

Perhaps you were done. Perhaps this was it.

You choke out a sob as Yeonjun bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. The stinging sensation is followed by the warm feeling that spreads through your stomach as his hips jerk forward one last time, filling your cunt for the third time that night. This time, it felt like the last.

And Yeonjun doesn't move after that. He keeps you close, inhaling your sweet scent, clinging to your warm body, listening to your beating heart. He doesn't pull out, not even when he lifts you into his arms, cradling you like you were made out of porcelain. It felt comforting, almost like a goodbye.

Then you hear it, the sounds of footsteps approaching. And soon, the others re-enter the cave. Four sets of glowing eyes, all peering down at you. It’s impossible to read their expressions in the dark, so you didn’t bother. Your attention remains on Yeonjun, blinking slowly when he brushes your hair back a final time.

“You’ll help us once more, won’t you?” He says, the request coming out as nothing but a short whisper. In the darkness of the cave, you find yourself nodding once more, giving yourself up one last time. Yeonjun smiles, and it’s as close to a genuine smile as he could ever get. — And as the others approach, the echoes of their steps ringing in your ears. Yeonjun leans down, warm breath ghosting over your face. The last thing you feel are sharp fangs, piercings through the skin of your neck, deep enough to where all air left your lungs.

It became dark after that. And it was dark for an eternity.

kinktober taglist (send an ask to be added) — @sweetpotatogyu @aduh0308 @joieouioui @inkigayocamman @bambammtori @hkplushier @gyusoulz @eliluvsjjunie @velvetmoonlght @izzyy-stuff @hwanghyunjinismybae @lunathewritingcat @ninitorih @run4gyu @beestvng @bamgeutsz

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earthtooz · 2 years ago

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x : ABUNDANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: rin doesn’t know when to stop spoiling you and you don't know how to stop him either.

warnings: rich pro-athlete!rin, gn!reader- reader wears lip gloss and perfume but i am an avid believer that they are gn, rin is dramatic (tm), fluff, swearing. 1.6k wc

a/n: rin is a clown in my eyes LMFAO no but this was kinda self-indulgent and i just can't stray too far from itoshi rin before he inevitably pulls me back. haven't written anything for him in a while so it feels good to be back to my roots. also no i'm not off break lol i did say that i was still gonna write and come back to post hehe. ENJOY!! rbs appreciated !!

itoshi rin doesn’t know when to stop spoiling you.

and you didn’t know how to get him to stop spoiling you. you could never resist his presents no matter what shape or size, whether they were little nendoroids of your favourite anime characters to the latest designer bags, you would always accept them with a grateful smile.

however, there’s always a tug of guilt at your chest that makes you little hesitant, not wanting rin to waste unnecessary money on you. yet whenever you make this feeling known to rin, he scoffs and waves your concerns off, ending the conversation there as he urges you to open his presents, more concerned about your reaction than how much money is being extracted from his account.

what’s the point of money if he can’t spoil you with it? that’s always been his philosophy. besides, it’s not like you’re forcing him to, so what’s the big deal?

if there was a certain brand of perfume you wanted, he was going to buy it. if you needed a bigger monitor then he’ll buy it. if you needed a streaming platform to watch a certain show on then he’d buy it too, not a problem. in fact, you’re sure rin is funding the spotify premium for your account because he got tired of all the ads he had to listen to when sharing headphones with you.

despite rin’s insistence that he was more than okay to spend money on you, it didn’t stop the growing feeling of guilt festering in your gut. so eventually you stopped bringing up things you wanted to buy in front of rin, leaving to write them down in your notes app instead.

the pro-athlete doesn’t question the abrupt lack of complaints about things you needed to buy, leaving him blissfully unaware of the things you had been buying for yourself and him.

this dance continues for a little and it’s not until date night three weeks later that he figures you out. you never stood a chance against rin’s perceptiveness especially when one of his favourite things to do was watch you get ready for said date nights, leaving it only a matter of time before he’d realise,

“looking gorgeous as always,” he compliments whilst walking up to stand behind you, dressed handsomely in a crisp suit with his hair swept sideways- a hairstyle he began to wore more often when he realised how often you stared at him during a boring sponsorship event which turned out a lot more eventful thanks to the simple hair change.

you smile at him in the mirror as rin places a kiss on the side of your head, hand going to your hip before situating himself on the bed, glancing down at his watch to check that you were still on time for the dinner reservation.

when he looks back up at you, his eyes zero in on the foreign lipgloss you were holding in your hands and the small smile rin wore falls into a scowl. rin knows he didn’t get that for you, and judging from the sleekness of the packaging, it looks new. he withholds his suspicions, brushing them off.

alarms blare in rin’s head again when he notices the foreign highlighter in your hands. contrarily, you remain ignorant to rin’s inquisitive stare as you lean in close to the mirror to apply the product, too used to the usual intensity of his gaze to bat an eye.

the last straw is the perfume you use, spritzing it on your wrists, behind your ears and neck, doing a little fanning motion with your hands once you were done.

“okay, i’m ready, let’s go before we’re lat-” you say, turning around to look at rin, cutting yourself off when you notice the look of distraught on his face. “what’s the matter?”

walking over to where he sat, you leisurely lay your forearms on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek whilst doing so. the smell of your foreign perfume enters his nose and although it was a very nice and charming scent, the athlete’s nose scrunches in displeasure, eyebrows furrowing further.

“do i have something on my face?” you ask, backing away. rin grabs your hands before you can stray too far.

“no, not that,” he puts your hands on his shoulders again. “did you always have this lipgloss? and i don’t recognise this perfume.”

“oh, i bought it not too long ago.”

he looks at you as though you’ve committed the most blasphemous offence against him, which, you did. “excuse me?”

“i bought it?” you reaffirm, a lilt of confusion in your tone.

rin narrows his eyes, combating your confusion with scrutiny. “you bought it.” you nod. “with your own money?”

“duh.”

he exhales loudly through his nose and you can feel the judgement oozing off him. “no that’s not right. i have to fix this.”

abruptly swapping your positions so that you were now sitting on the bed, rin disappears into the bathroom, emerging with a pack of makeup removers before sifting through your numerous products, that look of concentration never leaving his face.

“we’re gonna be late, rin,” you say from where he planted you, watching helplessly as your boyfriend approaches to stand in front of you, crouching down to be eye level with you. rin takes out a wipe from the packet before gently rubbing it on your lips, touch contrastingly gentle to his fiery gaze.

“don’t care. this is more important.”

rin fiddles with the highlighter that he bought for you, opening it cautiously and using the same brush you always use as he carefully paints your skin with the glitter. it amazes you just how observant rin is as he traces all the spots correctly, knowing you down to of the most insignificant, tiny details.

he does the same with the lip gloss, opening the familiar bottle before putting a luxurious amount of the product over your lips. you don’t complain about it, not when rin’s nose scrunches in concentration and not when he makes a disgruntled noise because he overlined the lip gloss, wiping it from the corner of your mouth.

nevertheless, when rin pulls away, he admires his handiwork with a content grin, the scowl now fading. “much better,” he mumbles, grinning slightly. before you could say anything though, the athlete stumbles away to put your makeup away, returning with a bottle of perfume that he also bought for you.

“do not spray that on me. the scents will clash,” you threaten. rin blinks at you before grabbing your wrist, spritzing a small amount before repeating the same step on your other pulse points.

his actions were sweet and you understood that rin had good intentions, but through the endearment you felt for your lover, there is an undeniable feeling of dejection settling within you. “i liked the products that i bought,” you murmur, tone slightly downcast as you express your thoughts. “i like using my own money sometimes too, rin.”

the smile rin wore falls ever so slightly as he looks at your somewhat-dejected form, crouching in front of you instinctively as to get a better glance at your face.

“i feel horrible whenever you use your money on me. especially on things that are way too expensive and way out of my budget. i don’t want people- i don’t want you to get the wrong idea of us,” you confess the last part breathily, rubbing your arms awkwardly. “and i hate feeling like i owe something to you.”

“hey, you know that will never happen, we’re not like that,” he rubs a hand on your knee reassuringly. “i buy things for you because i know, and don’t talk about this lukewarm shit about ‘owing’ me. if anything i owe you for putting up with me.”

you let his words sink in with a sigh, focusing on the warmth of rin’s palm.

“and i also buy things for you because you only deserve the best. none of that mediocre crap that anybody can buy.”

“but what if i like the ‘lukewarm shit’?”

“then you need better tastes, but i guess i have no choice but to buy it for you.” he stands up ever so slightly to kiss you.

you back away, cutting him off with a press of your finger against his lips. “rin. no.”

he gives you a withering glare for denying his affection.

“that’s not the point. as much as i love and appreciate it when you do buy things for me, i would also appreciate it if you let me use my own money too.”

the soccer player backs away, eyes scanning your expression to decide on what to say next. he sighs when he sees the determination in your face and like a dam giving out, it’s the first sign of rin’s stubbornness surrendering to your pleas. “fine, i’ll respect your choice, but it doesn’t mean that i like it.”

you grin, pulling him back in for the kiss he wanted earlier, catching rin off guard briefly before his shock subsides, letting him melt right into you. your lipgloss was now effectively ruined but you didn’t have it in you to care much. rin could always reapply it for you.

“but i’m paying for dinner,” he asserts against your mouth.

“deal.”

you return home tomorrow to see the same products you bought for yourself on your shared bed. except brand new and still in their sleek packages.

what were you going to do with rin?

#personally i'm abt to make out with him- what... who said that... anyways... hope u enjoyed !!#sorry if this fic isn't coherent #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabble #itoshi rin #itoshi rin bllk #blue lock

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bbangtans · 7 months ago

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daybreak | jjk | oneshot teaser

Summary: One of your favorite things to do when you were in your early 20s was stay up late where reflective conversations eventually blurred into nonsense as the sun rose alongside someone you thought you would spend the rest of your days with… Now you’re stuck in New York City for one night due to a delayed flight with that very person standing there in his leather jacket and guitar case in hand across from you at the airport gate. See, fate is a funny thing and Jeon Jungkook could always find the humor in anything.

pairing: rockstar!ex!jk x f!reader genre/tropes: angst, fluff, exes to ???, right person wrong time/second chances, jungkook is so romance film lead coded – charismatic and well-spoken and genuine and ughhhhh i be fawning frrrr, this takes place where both jk and reader are 28ish, jk is a lead singer in a band with tae-jimin-yoongi, and y/n is a working professional rating/warnings: M | alcohol consumption, lots of swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don’t be all willy nilly with this tho!!!), dig bick jk lmfao, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, multiple orgasms. a/n: inspired by my faaaaaave movie before sunrise bc if there’s anything namjoon and i have in common, it’s that we are yearners 🤝 word count: ~10k POSTED: link

You cursed every cliched metaphor referencing the elusiveness of time… the grains of sand slipping through fingertips, the ticking of clock hands that echo in the back of your head, the passage of breezes, and the eventual rising of the morning sun.

Jungkook smiled gently, wiping away a tear with his thumb which you didn’t even feel form as it fell down your cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“I just want you to know that I loved being in this moment. Sharing this night with you, that tonight it felt like New York was all ours. I could have never seen its beauty and experienced its magic the way I did with you.” Barely managing through your cries, you gasped for a breath as you tried to make out the next words. “But why did things have to turn out this way?”

The loud caws of the seagulls as they flew over the pier and the cold morning air fell onto forgotten senses as the only thing you could feel was the intensity of Jungkook’s stare on you. From your forehead that he placed a tender kiss upon, to your eyes that mirrored that silent longing his contained, the nose that he nuzzled against his, and chin that he held softly in his rough hand… It was like he was taking a picture of you at that moment. A moment where he was not rockstar Jeon Jungkook, but the Jungkook who always found a way to make you laugh and the Jungkook you dreamed of sharing matching rings with. And you were not the person living too fast for anyone to keep up with, but a person who could find the beauty in anything and the person that Jungkook could write a million and one songs about.

“Shh,” he comforted you as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I really can’t thank you enough for tonight… I’ve never hated to see morning as much as I do now.” He chuckled dryly at the irony of all.

You pulled back, surprising the man who towered over you. You held his confused face in your hands and smiled. “Me, too. I hope you know that.”

“I do now…” He whispered as though louder words could break the moment before placing a chaste kiss on one of the hands that cupped his face.

“Now what?” Your hands fell from his face and rested on his chest.

Jungkook sighed in contemplation as he peered past you into the blossoming orange horizon before recentering his eyes on you and grin losing its warmth and being replaced with sadness. “Good morning, I guess.”

The gravity of the situation settled upon you both silently.

“None of that dramatic ‘goodbye’ shit in the morning!” You tipsily pointed at Jungkook with your beer who only laughed at your theatrics as some foam spilled.

Between chuckles, Jungkook was barely able to let out. “Okay, then what do we say at the end? When it’s morning?”

“What people always say at that time – ‘good morning’ and not goodbye. Let’s make it a nice ending for us, I feel like that would do us both justice.” Your gaze was too hazy to see the seriousness that lined his face but he shook it off and plastered his signature smile despite the storm in his heart. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I don’t want to be sad in those last minutes with you.”

“Okay, we’ll bid each other ‘good morning’ when dawn comes then we go on with the rest of our lives. No sad stuff.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Good morning, Jungkook.” No matter how dazzling your smile was, Jungkook could never be distracted from the tears that lined your gorgeous eyes.

No physical closeness could ever combat the weight of what daybreak meant for you both.

#jungkook #bbangtans ff #bts fanfic #bbangtans jk ff #bts #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts x y/n

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sencrose · 14 days ago

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— ALL (SIX) EYES ON ME

pairing: gojo satoru x f!idol!reader

tags: slight dubcon/yandere, idol AU, no curses AU, clothed/costume/mirror sex, body worship, sweat kink, armpit licking lol, praise, cunnilingus, pet names (princess, sweetheart, sweetie), satoru's just a little weird in this sorry

wc: 9.2k (ugHGUHGUHGUGHUGHGUHGU)

summary: Everything's lining up. The tickets to your first solo show sold out weeks in advance. Small problem: there's only one person in the audience.

a/n: i don't...? i don't know man. this is extremely self-indulgent, self-ship coded at times, and technically a reeeeally late birthday gift to myself lmfao. makes a lot of references to jp idol culture (once again). if you have any questions my ask box’s open! dividers by @/adornedwithlight. + playlist + ao3 link here.

It’s taken weeks of preparation but it’s finally going to pay off. Countless hours of rehearsal, dancing in dusty studios until your body’s on the verge of dropping, singing until your voice is almost hoarse, but not quite. You know your limits, and you’re not willing to break them before something so crucial.

On the dawn of your birthday, your obligatory solo live has been the only thing on your mind. It can’t be anything short of perfect, especially after the tickets sold out in record speed. The stakes have never been higher. At least when you sell out a venue as a group, you can rely on each other. There’s no one to catch you if you fall here, physically or otherwise.

The green room feels empty without your fellow members to back you up. It’s a bit unnerving, having all this space to yourself, the mirrors reflecting back to you, and just you.

The silence of the room gets to you, so the obvious course of action is to play your set list in the background. You know all of the songs well, singing along gently as you unpack your luggage. Ruffles and frills bounce out as soon as you unzip it. No matter how tightly you attempt to pack your outfit, it seems like it has a mind of its own.

Putting it on was an ordeal in the beginning. Too many straps, too much fabric, too much volume to get lost in. But it’s become a part of you in the past couple of years, a second skin of sorts.

The top, a cropped blouse with a sweetheart neckline, always goes on first before you do your makeup. That was a lesson you learned on your second live when you accidentally stained the collar with foundation. You tug on the zipper, which always gets caught in between a bulky seam, tugging a bit harder when you get there. From there you bring it over your head and awkwardly shift until it’s finally on. It fits snugly once you zip up the side seam, your curves emphasized by the ribbon lacing detail on the side.

Makeup is simple enough, just a bit more extra than your usual day to day. More exaggerated eyeliner, an extra pigmented blush, dramatic eyelashes you still haven’t gotten used to (seriously, it’s distracting when they’re constantly in your periphery). To finish it off, some glitter around the eyes so it sparkles extra bright like the stars in the sky under the stage lights.

Once you’re done, it’s time for the skirt, and it’s always heavier than you think it is. It’s a given though – several layers of circles coming together at the waist, and dozens of yards of ruffled lace hemming each edge. It’d be a scientific anomaly if it weighed any less.

You shimmy your way into the skirt, one leg at a time until the elastic cinches at your waist. With it secured, you jump a couple of times – half to test its stability, and half to just watch the hypnotic bounce of fabric. At this point, it’s customary to do a little spin around in the mirror, lose yourself in the swish of fabric moving like the waves of the ocean, encapsulated around your waist. It’s your favorite part, just watching everything come together, feeling like a real star – even if the venue barely fits a hundred attendees.

All that’s left are finishing details. A ruffly garter that hugs your thigh, soft satin gloves on your hands, and a tiara instead of your usual matching set of bows on your head. Last but not least, a pair of platform boots. It’s still something you’re adjusting too, the weight of them dulling your dance moves just slightly.

When you check your phone, it’s just a few minutes before call time. You neatly pack your casual clothes in your luggage and roll it off to the side before exiting the room. Everything’s so different when you walk the hall alone. It’s a bit lonelier, a bit longer – plain white walls converging to a point you know all too well. You know you’re getting close when the instrumental playing through the speaker gets louder, too loud to ignore, a sign for you to put in your in-ear monitor.

Then you make it there, on the back edge of the stage like you’ve done so many times before, though alone this time. Anxiety beats like a drum in your chest, and you can’t bring yourself to peek through the stage curtains. Curiosity killed the cat after all.

The background instrumental starts, a soft bump of bass rumbles the floor, rattles your body. It’s your cue to go. With the mic held close to your chest, you step out to the stage, bright stage lights blinding you momentarily.

“Good evening everyone! Thanks for coming out tonight, it really-”

Your voice involuntarily stops in its tracks when your vision comes back to you.

The crowd is empty.

Well, almost empty.

A single fan stands tall right in front of you, familiar azure eyes staring a hole into your soul.

You remember him – Satoru. Couldn’t forget him if you tried. His reputation precedes him. If you had to choose a fan who’s dedication bordered on deification, it would be him.

Your fellow members even had a silly nickname for him: Mr. Monopoly. For the frivolous amounts of money he spent on your merch, and how he monopolized your time at every meet and greet by buying out a dozen cheki tickets the moment a performance ended. In fact, there have been a handful of events where he’s the only fan you’ve spoken to.

Despite that, it’s not like he’s creepy or anything. In fact, he’s incredibly normal – from what you can see anyway. Never crosses the line, never goes beyond the casual small talk about performance quality, curious questions about the upcoming release. But something about how much time and money he spends attending your shows keeps you on edge. Someone who spends so much of his life tucked away in dingy live houses can’t exactly be a paragon of society.

But this can’t be right, right? Your heartbeat’s erratic, pounding so hard against your ribcage you’re scared it’s going to crack. Didn’t the venue sell out weeks ago? You remember the congratulations text your manager sent you, the way you bounced off the walls of your bedroom in excitement at the news. That wasn’t fake. And what reason would he have to lie?

Was this some kind of online troll campaign? There’s always a possibility, but you’re quick to write it off. You’ve never been the topic of any notable online conversation, positive or negative. For once, your habitual ego surfing escapades pay off.

The wave of Satoru’s dazzling penlights snaps you out of your mental spiral, albeit still shaken.

“Um, it really means the world to me.” The words come out shakier than before.

You’re a professional.

It’s the only thought repeating in your mind, a hamster running on a wheel with no end in sight. You hope it rings true.

“Anyways, since it’s my birthday,” you continue, your voice still unstable. Your eyes wander around the room only to confirm nobody else is here, save for your manager, who’s also playing the role of bartender for tonight. The reality of the situation sinks in a little more, your heart dull and heavy.

“I thought we could get started with a solo cover of one of my favorite singles.” There was originally more you wanted to say, but your words elude you. Everything comes out cold, monotonous. “I really hope you enjoy it. Thank you.”

Satoru cheers and you swear it nearly bursts your ear drums, roaring like a tiger’s battle cry.

The instrumental starts, a hum of stringed chords hits your ears and you break into your starting pose, a smile beaming on your face despite the hurt in your heart. You know this dance like the back of your hand, but it feels uneasy performing in an unfamiliar setting. Lost somewhere in the in between; not quite alone in a dance studio, but not performing to the crowds you’ve grown used to.

There isn’t the usual weight to your moves, slightly deflated like a balloon that’s been left out for hours. The irony isn’t lost on you, singing about staying strong in the face of adversity under the soul crushing weight of disappointment.

You can hear him inhale, suck in dramatically like a child preparing to hold their breath underwater, only to let out a barrage of chants. The usual calls, about you being his favorite, about how cute you are. If this was backed by an army of fans, it would inspire you. But for the moment, it’s a bitter reminder of what could have been. It’s hard. You don’t want to be ungrateful, but you were expecting a bit more for your big day.

It happens before you realize it, glassy eyes forming tears when you blink.

The slight moistening of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Satoru, and his calls start to change. He’s improvising, his words customized solely for you. Clapping in triplets, shouting lines of encouragement at the pause between lyrics. From woo woos to ‘you can do it!’, from oo-ah oo-ahs to “I’ll cheer you on”, from hey heys to “my oshi’s the best!”

It’s hard to not feel touched by his efforts. You’ve grown as a performer, him as a supporter, alongside each other. It warms your heart a little. You’re caught by surprise when you hear yourself giggle in between the lyrics. To be acknowledged is its own reward. What originated from sadness morphs into something else entirely. A fire in your heart, rekindled. Even if no one else showed up, Satoru would always be here. And maybe that’s enough for you.

It’s common practice to choose a spot in the audience to look at, not making direct eye contact with anyone. But nobody tells you what to do when you’re performing to an audience of one. How do you stop yourself from being pulled into Satoru’s form, so bright and radiant he lights up the room?

The song finishes with a flourish, and you hold your pose for a moment just as you’ve practiced. You finally recollect yourself, chest visibly rising and falling from exhaustion.

“S-sorry about that.” You take a moment to wipe your tears as best as you can with the back of your arm. It’s hard not to mess up your makeup, and you can only hope there aren’t trails of black falling down your cheeks. You sniffle, careful not to do so in the mic, but you’re sure he hears considering he’s only a few feet away. “As long as someone’s here, the show will go on. So let’s have lots of fun tonight!”

He cheers at that, lifting his penlight and spinning it around in his hand. A single star in the endless night sky.

“The next song is something I haven’t performed in a long time.” You walk around the stage, your eyes never leaving Satoru’s gaze. “I don’t think I’ve performed it since debuting.”

Satoru gasps upon hearing, humming like a bee from excitement.

“So if you know it, I would love to hear you sing along.” You set your arms down to your side, turning around to face the back of the stage. This song was from the beginning of your journey, a bit more experimental and leaning on the side of cyber pop. Buzzy synths and blocky eight bit pads echo throughout the room, and it rumbles throughout your body. Something about it is more intense than you’re used to, the way the instrumental has no choice but to bounce off the walls and back into you. How it shakes your very being.

It’s easy to get lost in the stage backdrop, an endless sea of black. But when you turn and see your lone fan, lightstick in hand, it’s as if you’re a lost ship guided home by the draw of a lighthouse’s lamp.

Even if you haven’t performed this routine on stage in a year, it feels right. Like this was how it was always meant to be performed. Singular rhythmic claps, Satoru’s roaring voice piercing through your in-ear monitor.

As soon as the first words leave your lips, it brings you back. Back to a time when you and your group were still starting off. To the nearly empty rooms on a Friday night, to the countless hours you’d spend standing on busy streets handing out flyers to promote your show. The first time you ran into Satoru.

Late afternoon in Akihabara. Spring had just come in full bloom, bringing along a litter of cherry blossom petals on the pavement and the accompanying hordes of tourists. It had been a long day, then again, most of those days were long days. The heat always found a way to get to you when you’re standing in your costumes for hours at a time, competing alongside all the other dressed up girls promoting their respective maid cafes and idol groups. Then there were the faceless crowds ignoring you every time you gestured for them to take a flyer, to come to your show. It was the pinnacle of demoralizing work, really.

Satoru was just a faceless being until he stopped in his tracks, the first and only person to talk to you that day.

“Is this tonight?” he asked, his glasses slightly pointed downward just enough so you could see that magnificent blue of his eyes.

“Y-yes. It’d be great if you could come cheer us on,” you responded with a smile.

He took the flyer without a word, folding and putting it in his pocket and you assumed that was that. You didn’t actually expect to see him again. But you did.

When he came to your performance, you didn’t pay him much mind, and you assumed he did the same with you. He stuck out like a sore thumb, choosing to stand towards the back of the room and avoiding the handful of fans at the front, arms crossed as if he didn’t want to be there despite paying for the (admittedly hefty) entry fee.

Yet at the end of the show, he lined up at the counter. Bought only a single cheki ticket to meet with you, to tell you he enjoyed the show, that he looked forward to the next one. You didn’t believe him, but sure enough he showed up at the next concert. And then a single ticket turned into two. And then three, four, until it snowballed into the dozen ticket minimum you recognize him by today.

And now he’s here. Cheering you on so enthusiastically you can practically feel the passion oozing off of him. Oh, how times change.

The song’s over before you know it. It takes you a moment to return from your trip down memory lane.

“Wow, what a throwback, huh?” you sigh dreamily, reminiscing on the past, on how far you’ve come. “I think it’s actually my first time hearing anyone mix to it.”

Gratitude rises and swells in your heart like a river during a rainstorm, nowhere to escape but your lips. It overrides any rational thought in your brain. The words spill faster than you can catch them. “Thank you for being here, Satoru.” With that, you break the number one taboo of addressing anyone directly in the audience.

“Anything for you,” he says softly, smiling and tilting his head just slightly. He doesn’t need to shout or project his voice any further, he knows you hear him. Maybe it’s just the lighting, or your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear the whites of his teeth glimmer.

Heat darts to your cheeks, feverish, and it’s not from the oppressive stage lighting. Your next words do nothing to help.

“This next song,” you pause, “is a love song. Kind of.”

Satoru responds, a scandalous and elongated, “Ooooh?”

Your rehearsed speech falls apart with the reaction Satoru gives you. It wasn’t this awkward when you were practicing it in the mirror, but this feels too direct of a conversation. Expectant, adoring eyes look up at you, waiting with bated breath.

“I, I mean it’s more about following your dreams,” you continue, flustered and taking long, aimless steps across the stage before turning back to face him, “there’s love in that, right?”

“There is!” he says, waving his penlight in the air side to side.

“I’m glad you agree. Well, if you know this song, I would love to hear you sing along.”

That goes without saying. As soon as the instrumental blasts through the speakers, Satoru’s chanting his heart out. A hope intertwined that you’ll listen to him, hear him for who he really is.

Satoru’s energy shows no sign of declining, his voice still as thunderous as when the show started. Your voice guides him along, an adventure navigating between chiptune keys and artificial strings, until it reaches the bridge. A flurry of sugary sweet synths buzz, racing to a climax together. Satoru inhales to prepare for the speech to come.

“I have something to confess!”

This is far from the first time you’ve heard this speech, it’s a staple of the culture after all. But this is the first time it’s been so clear. No one else to muddle his voice. Satoru, and just Satoru.

When he’s the only one in the audience, you decide to indulge him. Bending down on one knee, cupping your hand behind your ear.

“Tell me, tell me!” you exclaim back, voice as sweet as the melody playing through the speakers.

“My oshi really is the cutest!”

It’s a back and forth, and it feels much more like a conversation than it normally would. The words bounce between the two of you so naturally, like a tennis ball during a rally.

“Really really?” You play into it, faux shock weaved into your tone.

“I like her, I like her, I really do love her!” Satoru chants it rhythmically, trance-like. Each syllable is aimed crystal clear, an arrow with startling accuracy shooting you in the heart.

“Do you, do you?”

“I’ve found my princess!”

It’s hard to pose, but you manage to give him a little curtsy before pointing at your tiara. With Satoru chanting his affections to you, you truly feel like royalty tonight.

“Did you, did you?” you respond, tilting your head with a smile.

“She’s my reason for living!”

No matter how many times you tell yourself that the two of you are practically relaying a script, you think there’s a morsel of truth behind his words.

“Is she, is she?”

“Let’s walk through this life together!”

It shouldn’t have such an effect on you, you’ve heard it plenty of times before. From other concerts, from larger crowds. But it does. It has you smiling so wide your cheeks start to ache.

That’s new. When was the last time that happened?

“Let’s go, let’s go!”

Maybe you’re crossing a line when you extend your arm further, his lips so close to the mic you can feel his breath on it. Not that Satoru seems to mind. If anything, his eyes sparkle a bit brighter, his smile eclipsing any doubt in your head.

“I love you!” Satoru yells so loud the volume of it makes you wince. For just a fraction of a second, your smile drops before you place it back on, a well-worn mask. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume this was a real confession.

“L-O-V-E Y-O-U!” It's just how the call ends, but it feels like he’s spelling it out for you with intention in every letter, just in case you didn’t hear him the first time.

With the end of the chant you’re thrown into the last chorus, getting off the floor and resuming your choreo. Satoru resumes to the usual chants, as if he wasn’t yelling something reminiscent of a love confession.

A kick and a pose and that marks the end of the third song of the night. Something about Satoru’s cheers are electrifying, static shooting through every fiber of your being. It takes you a moment to catch your breath before taking a bow.

“And now for the last song of the night,” you pant into the mic, breathless.

“Ehhhh?” A long, high-pitched whine, as is customary when the night’s almost over.

“I know, I know. It’s always sad when things come to an end, isn’t it?”

“But let’s make the most of this together! I want to hear you put everything you got on the line!” you scream into the mic, as if there’s more than a single pair of ears to take in your words.

Satoru cheers wildly at that.

“And I hope I’ll see you at the next event!” you exclaim, waving your spare hand before getting into position.

A guitar riff, followed by a soft bass announces your last song of the night. The notes dance on your skin and you welcome the sensation, taking them in and returning them ten fold. The ruffles of your skirt brush against your thighs as you roll your hips, entrancing like a bird’s mating ritual.

You thought you’d never get sick of the view of a crowd, but there’s a new contender rising in the ranks of your favor. As you circle around the stage in preparation for the chorus, Satoru also seems to be planning something. As soon as the words leave your mouth, Satoru mirrors your dance, penlights shining brightly in hand. Every jump, every sway of your hips, he meets you there.

You’re supposed to be the star of the show but he’s caught your attention, outshining your glow.

As the last chorus makes its round, the words escape a bit more desperate, dancing the line between singing and wailing. Despite everything that’s happened, you’re having fun, maybe some of the most fun you’ve had performing thus far. You’re not sure you want this to end.

With his hands armed with penlights between his fingers, he swipes swiftly across the air, as if he’s cutting the space in between. One, two, three large circles in quick succession before kneeling on the floor, pose akin to an over-dramatic archer. From there on, every spot he hits in the air is calculated, as if he’s aiming for a bullseye on a dartboard before his hands move down to his side. Then, a pulse of motion before he aggressively spins his lightsticks in the air. Swinging low, left, right, left, bringing up his lightsticks past his head, before repeating the motion all over again.

It’s silly. He’s silly. It’s another side of him you haven’t seen before, despite him being such a dedicated fan. Maybe the crowd was just a distraction from seeing Satoru for who he really was.

Maybe it’s a good thing they aren’t here.

That breaks your train of thought. You know you shouldn’t be thinking of him like this – it’s unprofessional. This doesn’t stop the thought from lurking in the background, from reappearing on the surface when you meet his gaze, see the way he smiles for you and–presumably–only you.

As the instrumental fades, you shoot your hands up, gently bringing them down with a graceful flair, pausing when they reach hip height.

Even after a performance of his own, Satoru still cheers with the same momentum from the start of the night. His energy truly knows no bounds.

“Thanks again for coming, I really appreciate it,” you breathe into the mic heavily, your exhaustion now catching up to your body.

“I really had so much fun performing today. I hope we’ll see each other at the next live!” You thank your single fan of the night with a 90 degree bow, before running to gather supplies for the meet and greet session. And knowing Satoru, he will be participating.

As soon as you finish speaking, Satoru’s quick to walk to the counter, as if there’s a tangible chance anything is going to sell out. An exchange of words and bills and he comes bearing a handful of tickets – his usual.

Before you’ve even finished setting things up, Satoru walks up to the stage. There’s no need to wait to be called up when you’re the only performer here, him the only fan.

He waits patiently as you grab a small table and a pack of paint markers hiding behind one end of the stage.

“Thanks for coming, Satoru!” You reach out to grab his hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He meets your gaze.

“How did you enjoy the show?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“I guess not,” you chuckle, “I’m glad you had fun.”

You gesture your manager to come over, and he speedwalks over with an instax camera in hand.

“I know it’s your birthday, but could I ask for something?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Could I…” he trails off, a contemplative look painting his face as he chooses his next words.

“Yeah?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and gesturing for him to continue.

“Could I put my arm around you for this one?” he asks, with newfound confidence.

Your ears perk up at the question. “You’re not gonna post it anywhere, right?”

“‘Course not. You have my word.” He pats his hand against his chest and gives you a reassuring smile.

You give a contemplative glance to your manager holding the polaroid camera, who gives you a shrug.

“Okay, but only this once.”

Then you break a second taboo, letting a fan touch you past a fleeting handshake, the connecting fingers of a heart.

His arm wraps around your waist and you do the same to him. It’s no surprise he’s warm, which makes sense considering he’s been dancing around just as much as you, if not more. However, it is a surprise you’ve never noticed how nice he smells. Then again, live venues aren’t exactly conducive to scents that aren’t sweat and dust.

With a bright flash, the polaroid hums as it prints out the photo. Satoru doesn’t linger, even though you think he would. And when his touch leaves, you almost wish you savored his warmth a bit longer before shaking the thought out of your head.

Every other pose he asks for is within the realm of normal. Several different hand heart variants, cat paws, the occasional silly pose thrown into the mix. It almost feels like a couples shoot. Almost. Pose after pose, flash after flash and you’re left with a handful of polaroids to sign, laid out in a messy array on the table.

“What was your favorite part?” you ask.

At this point, you think you have him figured out. Though Satoru has been to several shows, his answer usually boils down to a few options when you sift through all the embellishments and wordy rambles. Your performance, your outfit, your energy, and –

“Having you all to myself.”

That catches you by surprise.

For the first time since the beginning of the night, your composure cracks. It takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the situation and attempt to put a smile on your face again, but your voice comes out cold and distant.

“Huh?”

“How’d you like your birthday gift?” he asks, ignoring your confusion.

“Gift? Like performing?” you ask back, shaking the paint pen to get ready to sign the polaroid. You look back at him with a wavering smile. “It was fun.”

“No, no, not that.” Satoru waves his hand in front of his face and shakes his head. “Your first sold out live! I bought all the tickets.”

Your hand seizes in the middle of writing, a growing blob of paint forming where the pen is pushed down against the film. There’s no air to be found in your lungs, as if the entirety of the concert hits you all at once. When you find it in yourself to look at him, he stands there with his usual innocent smile painted on his face, patiently awaiting your reaction.

You clear your throat before finally speaking. “Really?”

“Really,” he says with ease, almost prideful at the fact.

The idea of him spending thousands on selling out a show seems implausible, but then again it is Satoru. If anyone were to do something so ridiculous, it would be him.

A nervous laugh escapes you, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It feels like you’re on a tightrope, a delicate balance to toe between professionalism and fanservice.

“You like me that much?” It’s a true, honest question. You finally lift the pen off the film, frowning slightly at the pool of paint on the picture.

“Of course!”

You don’t know how to respond to that. There’s no training guide on handling situations like this, but there really should be. You choose your next words carefully, falling back on something safe, distant.

“Thank you for your continued support.” The words come out hesitantly, robotic, like you’re reading off a script.

“Anything for you,” he responds warmly, seemingly unaffected by your tone.

If you heard this at one of your usual concerts, you wouldn’t have paid it much mind – just one of those casual comments a fan says to their oshi. Now, his words have some weight. It’s not something you feel comfortable holding.

But a twinge of guilt hits your heart when you look at him, when he still smiles with admiration on his face, like you’re the one who hung the moon and stars in the night sky. Maybe you’re being too harsh on him; different fans show their support in different ways after all. Hell, you’re sure some of your members would kill to have a fan like him.

Regardless, it’s still hard to shake off the uneasiness that plagues your chest, even harder to come back from a conversation like this.

“Have you considered doing more solo activities?” Satoru asks, ignorant of the thoughts that plague you.

“Eh?” You jerk at his words, not expecting him to carry the conversation. “Not really,” you respond while drawing an assortment of random doodles across the polaroids. The usual decorations, hearts, sparkles, confetti, what have you.

“You really should, I’d be the first to cheer you on!” he says with a smile that puts the sun to shame and that twinge of guilt hits you again. Here he is supporting you in earnest, and you’re judging him for it.

“Would you now?” you attempt to joke but it comes out a bit shaky.

“Of course!” he exclaims, your unease going seemingly unnoticed.

“Well, if I ever do, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you there,” you respond with a soft smile before moving on to labeling the pictures with the date and your signature.

“You promise?” He holds out his pinky, waiting for you to reciprocate. You take a moment to ponder before raising your hand to meet his.

“Promise,” you reply, intertwining your pinkies together. The visible glee on Satoru’s face is a sight to behold. Part of you wonders if he only shows this side of himself to you.

“Oh, I think they should be dry, but still be careful with them.”

“I know, I know, wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them.” He holds them gingerly as you hand them off to him, as if he’s holding a newborn puppy in the palm of his hands.

“Have a nice night, Satoru.”

“You too. See you soon!”

----

The activities of the night catch up to your body when you make it to the green room, plopping on to the vanity chair. If you landed any harder or the chair was any cheaper, you’re sure it would’ve broken from the way you tossed your dead weight onto it. You spin around aimlessly on the chair, staring up at the ceiling as a form of decompression. All you need is a moment to recollect yourself after the emotional roller coaster of a night.

A knock on the door and your back immediately straightens, posture prim and proper as can be. Your manager opens the door, barely peeking through to greet you.

“Hey, good job tonight,” he comments, opening the door fully once he sees you’re just lounging around.

“Thanks.”

“I’ve finished closing up, so just turn off the lights when you head out.”

“Yup, got it.” You give your manager a thumbs up and a smile, and he takes it as a sign to leave.

Before he has the chance to close the door shut, you grab his attention, a question burning in your head. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” he responds, opening the door again so you can see him face to face.

“Was the concert really sold out?”

“Yep,” he states matter-of-factly, “you should get your cut by next week.”

The pay is the last thing on your mind.

“Okay.” It comes out hushed, strained.

“Anything else?” he asks, tapping his fingers against the door.

You ponder it for a moment, but you’re not sure you want to bring up your concerns to him, if it’s worth the fight. What are you supposed to say? The walking piggy bank that sponsored the entirety of your performance makes you just a tad uneasy? But then again, he’s probably just a nice and honest fan. He might have an interesting way of showing it, but at the end of the day he’s proved himself to be harmless. You don’t see a solution that doesn’t lead to an extreme, and you don’t necessarily want to punish him for his support. So you bite your tongue, letting your thoughts stir and simmer.

“No,” you sigh, resigned.

“Alright, then,” he says, none the wiser, “have a nice night.”

“You too.”

You plop back onto your seat with a groan. The desire to relax for another moment outweighs the desire to get out of your costume. It’s easy to find yourself lost in thought, daydreaming about being back home, taking a nice hot bath to relax your sore muscles.

There’s another knock on your door.

“I’ll be out in a few, just give me a moment-”

The door opens with a slow creak.

It’s not your manager.

“Oh, Satoru!” you say, shock coursing through your body as you jump up from your seat, “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see you off,” he says, as if it’s normal for him to be back here. Didn’t your manager close up? He would’ve seen him and kicked him out, right?

“I thought we said our goodbyes earlier,” you respond, voice an octave higher than usual. It only comes out when you’re trying your best to defuse a situation. “You know, at the meet and greet portion?”

“I know, I know,” he says, waving his hands as if he’s shooing away your comment, casually walking towards you.

You don’t think he actually knows.

“But we had such a good time, didn’t we?” he asks, taking another step forward to close the distance between the two of you.

“I mean, yeah! But there’s a-”

“What if we let it continue?” he interrupts, “your birthday isn’t over yet.” He glances over at the clock and your eyes follow. 10:12pm. The second hand moves slower than you’d like.

“It’s your special day isn’t it? Let me treat you.” His body presses closer against yours. The pressure makes you more aware of his height against yours, of the muscular build you feel through the thin layer of fabric.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not this close. “I’m not sure if this is a line I should cross, Satoru,” you mumble, an attempt to convince yourself to abide by the silent oath all idols take when they first get on stage and declare themselves entertainers – be as innocent as possible. No male friends, no dating, and certainly no hookups.

“You don’t have to cross anything,” he says, voice low. His face is dangerously close to yours, and your heart skips a beat when you realize just how beautiful he is – the tufts of white carefully brushing across his forehead, the glint of sweat that makes his skin glisten, and those hypnotic crystalline eyes of his, glimmering with devotion just for you. “I’ll cross it for you.”

Without any warning, his lips press against yours, and it’s nothing like what you expected. Nothing like the crazed, enthused fan you’re used to seeing. It’s gentle, sweet. The taste of melon soda sits on his lips.

The moment your lips part to say something, Satoru takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in, teasingly pressing against yours. His hand grabs yours before you can react, fingers intertwining until it represents something romantic. You feel your defenses slipping as his other hand grabs your chin to deepen the kiss.

You hate to admit it, but he’s a good kisser. Somehow, it comes so naturally with him. A dance shared between the two of you, except there’s no stage platform keeping you apart. He’s right here, not an inch of space to be found between your bodies. Everything about him overwhelms you – his gentle hand holding yours, the softness of his lips, the way he nearly whimpers with every kiss, needy and desperate for more.

Satoru’s knee pushes against your thighs, pressing to split your legs apart until your crotch rests on top of him.

“Let me spoil you,” he pleads, out of breath.

It’s far from the end, it’s just the beginning. A love letter to each part of your body, delicately inked with the utmost care.

His lips bite the tip of your right glove, gripping the fabric before pulling off to reveal your bare hands. The sight sends heat rushing to your core, seeing him hold the glove between his lips before spitting it out. When you cover your face with your gloved hand from embarrassment, Satoru meets you there. A soft nip at your finger before peeling the other glove off your hand, eyes looking up at you with something dark, something low. You don’t recognize it.

Once your hands are bare, he holds them gently. No excited death grip like the first time he held them at a meet and greet.

“I’m so lucky I get to hold these cute hands of yours.” Open mouth kisses from the tip of your fingers, slowly making their way up your forearm, your bicep, until he meets your shoulder.

“W-wait, Satoru, I’m still kinda sweaty, let me-”

“You think that bothers me? I love every part of you.” He drags his tongue up your forearm again before kissing and sucking on the skin. “And I really do mean every part.”

Over the months, you’ve learned that Satoru is many things, but he’s not a liar. The way he explores every inch of your body is filled with admiration. You feel it in the way he leaves messy kisses on your skin, nearly moaning when he licks the sweat off you.

When he brings your arms up, you pick up on what he’s going to do next and rush to get your words out. “W-wait, S-Satoru it’s kinda gross, isn’t it?”

“Not to me,” he says it like it’s an undeniable truth, “but if you think so, then I’ll just have to clean you up, right?” As if to prove his point, Satoru flicks his tongue before dragging a stripe against the curve of your underarm. From there he licks the droplets off of you like a man at the brink of dehydration who just found an oasis. He’s messy and wet, leaving nothing behind but his spit as he licks up anything and everything perspired from your body. “Tastes sweet to me.”

With that he goes in for the other side, once again lapping at your sweat like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Even when he’s licked up all there is to be savored, he’s not finished until he leaves sloppy kisses, sucking and nipping at the skin. He bites a little too hard for your liking, earning a yelp from you.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself, you taste so good,” Satoru’s quick to apologize, looking at you with a cheeky smile, “wanted to have a bite to myself.”

And then he’s squatting onto his knees, hands delicately massaging your thigh as he looks up at you to ask, “could you lift your skirt for me, sweetheart?”

You comply, bringing up the hem of your skirt. Since you haven’t started your undressing process of the night, you’re still wearing your safety shorts. Satoru doesn’t seem to mind, basking at the sight of your upper thighs he’s only caught glimpses of when you jump on stage.

“You don’t need this with me.” He pulls on the hem of your shorts, swiftly bringing them down to your ankles, as if he’s unwrapping a present with a pull of a bow.

You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that you can’t see him under your skirt, getting lost in the layers of crinoline and ruffles that blend in with his hair. It adds a layer of anticipation, being unable to see what exactly he’s doing, though you’re not sure if you would be able to look at him even without the barrier of the skirt.

Satoru starts low, plush lips pressed against your ankle, tongue tracing up your calf and leaving a wet kiss on your thigh. One moment you feel a hint of teeth around your garter, and the next you feel it loosen and fall to your feet.

Feeling too exposed, you instinctively press your legs together – not that this stops Satoru.

His tongue presses against the seam created from your thighs pressed against each other, and a soft moan slips from your lips.

“If you want more, you’ll have to open up,” he pants breathily, planting another open mouthed kiss on your leg.

There’s an aching want growing in your core, burning hot unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. When he looks up at you, you recognize the way his eyes glimmer with determination. You think you can trust him to tame it. And though Satoru was the first to cross the line, you aren’t any better.

You hesitantly shuffle your legs apart, unable to meet his eyes, waiting nervously for what’s to come.

Satoru is quick to take the opportunity.

He dives in, tongue pressed against the cotton of your underwear. His tongue rolls against your clit through the fabric, and you desperately wish the thin layer wasn’t there.

“Working so hard for me,” he coos, talking directly into your pussy, “you deserve a little treat.”

You want to protest that you’d work hard even if he wasn’t there, but you’re not sure that’s true anymore. The only sound that leaves your mouth is a whine as his tongue ghosts over your clit.

The wet sounds that echo throughout the room fills you with embarrassment, and you’d be regretting it if it didn’t feel so damn good. You don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Satoru’s just too skilled, his tongue pressing flat against your clit before flicking and you respond with a choked back whine.

It shouldn’t matter, you’ve crossed the line already. But there’s something about letting him hear you like this that sets your face ablaze.

Satoru’s fingers press against your folds through the fabric, spreading them apart before his tongue hones in on your clit. Each drag of his tongue draws shapes onto the bundle of nerves with intention. If you could think properly, maybe you’d be able to make out the letters, another confession of his love to you.

Only once your underwear is thoroughly soaked with a mix of his spit and your arousal, does he pull the fabric to the side. Your breath hitches at the sudden exposure, the cold air of the room fanning against your skin. The sensation doesn’t last long as Satoru’s face enthusiastically presses into your cunt. Everything about it is too much; the way his nose presses against your clit, his tongue lapping messily between your folds.

A finger slips in with little resistance around the ring of muscle and you can’t hold your moans back anymore.

“You like that?” he asks.

You give him a shy nod.

“Then lemme hear more of you,” he says, before planting his face back into your pussy.

The sounds get louder as he practically makes out with your pussy. Lips pressed against your clit before a sliver of tongue makes its way out, teasing you with a flick.

Satoru slips in another finger and you groan at the fullness. You knew his hands were large, you’ve felt them before countless times during your post-concert handshakes. Maybe you should’ve taken a longer look at them, analyzed them more thoroughly. The thought never crossed your mind that he would use them like this, knuckles deep into your cunt.

The way he explores your body scares you. How he knows where to press to get a reaction, how to hook his fingers to get you to lean into his touch. As if he absorbed anything and everything there is to know about you through your fleeting moments together. His fingers curl and hit a spot that has you weak in the knees, leaning back onto the counter to find balance.

“Wait, please,” you whine, high pitched and needy. It gets harder to keep your skirt up for him, legs weak from his ministrations.

“Hey, I said keep it up, didn’t I?” he pauses, taking a moment to look up at you from the ruffles.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, gorgeous. Just wanna see your face when you cum on my tongue.” With that, he goes back in, far more aggressive than before. His fingers move faster, drawing out wet squelches from your pussy with each pass. The noises he makes are far too lewd for your ears, slurping and groaning as he laps at your clit. This is more the Satoru you recognize, the one you saw earlier tonight. Satoru, who loses himself in the heat of the moment, who eats you out like a man starved.

It’s obvious you’re close with how much your legs tighten. Satoru senses this too, his pace intensifying to get you there.

“Let it all out for me sweetie,” he pants into your cunt between flicks of his tongue. That winding coil in your core snaps and the grip around your skirt tightens as you cum on his tongue. You can’t hold your moans back, letting them messily spill from your mouth as a warm pleasure rushes through your body.

Satoru doesn’t stop, even after the moans have left your body and your muscles have started to relax again. Your heart races at the realization that he wants more.

“Please, please, please, it’s too much-”

“It’s okay, I know you can do it,” he coos, far too sweetly for what he’s asking for you,“lemme give you another, ok?”

Your legs tremble, muscles spasming as his tongue works around your clit in earnest, swirling around the nub as his fingers continue to press against your g-spot. He doesn’t relent when you hand grips onto his hair – if anything it encourages him to go harder. Whatever it takes to get you closer to clenching around his fingers and moan for him in that saccharine voice of yours.

And it works – almost hurts when you cum around his fingers a second time without so much a break. You can’t stop yourself from moaning his name, nearly on the same level of adoration he gives you during your concerts. Satoru seems to be getting a kick out of it, his breathing becoming more labored the more you call for him.

When he takes his fingers out, you wince at the feeling, still sensitive from your orgasms. Your legs threaten to give out on you, but Satoru’s quick to wrap his hand around your waist.

“You did so good for me,” he rushes in to kiss you, and the taste of melon soda barely lingers. You taste yourself– a bit bitter and salty–on his lips, on his tongue when you open and entice him to take you.

Satoru pulls on the elastic of your skirt, raising it up until it’s past your waist. The hem of your skirt now barely covers your exposed pussy, the ruffles brushing it against it as you shift.

He turns and bends you over the vanity, the mirror’s lights shining brightly in your face. It’s not that far off from stage lighting — white rings reflected back in your pupils as you stare back at your reflection.

“You know how cute you are?” he whispers into your ear, so close you can feel the warmth from his words. “Look what you’ve done to me.”

You can’t exactly look back to see it, but you feel it. Something solid pressed against you, wrapped in the cotton of his pants, sliding in between your wet folds. It only takes a moment for him to free himself from the confine of fabric, to feel something hot and heavy and real pushing against you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this,” he says, cockhead sitting on top of your folds. Just feeling you, skin to skin, earns a visceral reaction from him. He can’t stop himself from moaning at the warmth of your cunt, even when it’s just the tip sinking in.

Satoru savors every moment of pushing himself into you, hands shaking as he searches to hold yours. The sound you let out once he bottoms out is foreign to your ears. It stretches you out so much you regret not turning around to get a good look at it.

Satoru starts slow, but you can feel the restraint in his movements. A languid roll of his hips as he fucks into you, littering your neck with kisses. You attempt to tell him not to bite, but all you can let out is a sweet moan when he does.

The drag of his cock against your walls is dangerously addictive, like you could be hooked on this forever. And though it feels good, it’s not enough. His strokes are teasingly slow, as if he wants you to ask for more.

Again, Satoru stumps you by showing how much self control he has. If his wotagei was anything to go off of, you were expecting something frenzied and manic. But you do see a part of his passion reflected in his actions. In the way his words leave his tongue, honeyed and sweet. In the way he fucks you with a tenderness you weren’t sure he would ever be capable of.

“Feelin’ good?”

“Mmhm,” you nod, attempting to hold your voice back from sounding any lewder.

Satoru’s eyes watch over you through the reflection, corners of his lips upturned as you lose yourself into him, voice nothing but dulcet moans. A rush of red rises to his cheeks, making him burn brighter than before.

“God, you’re going to be the end of me,” Satoru groans, his chest pressing against your back until there’s no space left between your bodies, the heat radiating off of him making it feel like you’re melting. With the way he’s rolling his hips into you, you might as well be. Each drag of his cock makes you dizzy, makes you wish you threw your ideals to the side far sooner.

It just feels too good; part of you wonders if this is how lovers do. Maybe not in this particular location or situation, but in the way his hand reaches over to yours. Fingers finding each other and intertwining once again, as if this was always the way it was meant to be. Something drums up in your heart – you don’t want to let go. Desire unfurls in your chest and you want to live in the moment, but you also wish you could bottle it up and save it forever, especially when his soft lips gently kiss your neck before biting to leave yet another mark.

As sweet as it is, you think you’re getting a bit greedy. You want to see more, want to see the Satoru you’ve come to appreciate in all his frenzied affection. With the way he’s moving so slow, he has to be testing you, right? A way to make you say the magic words just so he can hear them, the tone and pitch of your voice, the way you enunciate every syllable so sweetly, commit them to memory. Or maybe he thinks you can’t handle it, in which case, you want to show him you can. A way of thanking him for his years of support.

You don’t do it on purpose – you just can’t help it, looking at him all doe-eyed and a slight pout to your lips. “S-Satoru, harder,” you whine, and something breaks in him. Any ounce of self control goes out the window as soon as you mutter those words.

“Whatever you say, princess,” he mewls, arms wrapping around your lower waist.

His fingers search for your clit, flipping through the layers of ruffles before pressing onto the bud. Within moments he’s playing with it like it’s all he’s ever known, until he has you whining and wincing from his touch. Drawing rough shapes around the bundle of nerves until your muscles squeeze around him.

He starts fucking into you harder, the sound of skin slapping far too loud to ignore. Your hand grips onto his harder, skin balmy from the sweat and heat emanating from both of you.

“You like that, princess?” he asks in a huff, barely able to contain his lust.

All you’re able to let out is a whimper and a nod, and Satoru takes it as a sign to continue.

You don’t recognize yourself in the reflection, tiara crooked, stage outfit unkempt, the debauched expressions you make as your number one fan fucks you senseless. But it doesn’t matter – there’s only one thing on your mind at this very moment, that hot tension in your stomach rapidly rolling towards its peak.

“S-Satoru, I’m, I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum for me,” Satoru growls breathily into your ear, gently kissing the shell before continuing, “let it all out just for me.”

When your climax washes over you, it’s far more intense than the others he’s given you tonight. Legs trembling as pure bliss rushes throughout your body, even as Satoru continues fucking you through it. It’s too much, moaning his name as a way to talk yourself through it. Every part of you is warm and fuzzy as pleasure runs its course.

Satoru isn’t far behind, he’d probably want this to last longer but he just can’t – not with the way your walls clench and squeeze around him. With a few more strokes he’s burying himself deep into you, huffing and panting as he empties hot, white ropes of his seed into you.

It takes a moment to peel away from him, and the second you do, he’s quick to tighten his grasp around you, to hold you in your arms just a bit longer.

Satoru gives you a kiss on the cheek, something gentle and chaste.

“Did you like your present?”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #cw.dubcon #sen writes #sen fics #s.jjk #idoltalk

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mercif4l · 4 months ago

Text

(𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲) 𝗯𝗲𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 — ksy

MDNI, this blog is for 18+ users only. blank blogs will be blocked.

pairing: afab!reader x kwon soonyoung

word count: 2.4k

summary: hoshi's second favorite place to be is between your thighs. no flight will take that away from him.

content warning: smut smut smut, boyfriend!hoshi, nudity, explicit sexual acts (dirty talk, oral: f. receiving, fingering, teasing), soonyoung is a brat lmfao

a/n: ty all for the love on the teaser it really means the world 😭 hoshi is a BITER argue with the wall. go listen to charli xcx's 'beg for you' ft vernon! thank u so much to @haologram, @beomcoups, @wonuwoe and @jenoslutie for helping me through the terrors of posting on tumblr for the first time ᥫ᭡

Soonyoung had laughed when you’d taught him about kink vocabulary. The first time you called him a ‘service top’, he’d conflated it with being a milkman or a post officer. He’d had a fit in the Don Quixote cleaning aisle about urban dictionary and spent the whole walk home collating the worst modern sex-terms.

None of that changed the fact you were right (as always) and he was being over-dramatic (as always).

Just like he is right now.

Kissing you like its sleep for the exhausted; with desperation, total familiarity, and a warmth that makes everything a bit hazey. Where the thought of leaving any part of you untouched by his mouth makes him feel physically ill. But he’s on a time crunch, one you won’t let him wistfully ignore, and that means compromises must be made.

It’s shocking how each time he touches you, pinching this and soothing his tongue over that, it feels like the first time. Each kiss followed by a gasp and relieved groan. Is it how he takes his sweet time nibbling beneath your earlobe? Or grazing his nails over the curve of your spine? Or how he flushes pink every time you so much as pant for him?

Whatever the answer, his reaction remains the same: total pride. Arrogance, really, at the fact he just can and he never has to ask.

In fairness, you’re not doing very well to tame him. Every moan he elicits presses like a gold star to the bottom of his belly, its outline warming the flesh til it burns: a reward for being so good that you can’t hold it in.

Almost like butterflies, if they were on fire and could make him cum in his pants untouched.

You curl a lock of his hair between your fingers and nudge him over. Away from your chest, away from your fluttering ribcage, away away away, just anywhere but on you.

Soonyoung whines, because of course he does, and fixates on kissing your palm as you mumble: “Gotta go, baby.”

They sound like the last words he’ll ever hear from your Venusian lips (Drama.)

But he knows this look. This tone. The non-committal ‘no’ that you try your best to squeeze out. Like a false alarm; a reminder that he can only have so much fun before you run off to prove a point.

So, instead of stopping like you suggest, he brings his forehead up to yours and, with the weight of his entire body, presses you down into the pillows.

“Wanna… wanna make you feel good. Said you’d let me.”

God, he’s so whiny. It really would annoy you if it didn’t make your legs cross and your mouth salivate.

“I know, but—“ All it takes to shut you up is a hump to your thigh, his slacks pulled tight as his bulge leaks onto you. Your eyes close at the wet feeling; he plays you for a fool every time you try to deny him.

So, instead you finish your own sentence with a resigned “I know.” and decide to at least let him try.

And he might have successfully hidden his shit-eating grin, were it not now pressed against your stomach.

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.”

A giggle echoes out across the room and whether it’s his or yours, you’re both too excited to notice. Always a bit too distracted with the feeling of each other. “Sorry, sorry baby,” it’s a lie—he’s not sorry at all.

It’s obvious in the way he bounces down the bed; the twinkle of his eyes as his middle and forefinger lace beneath the waistband of your stockings, gently tugging them down your leg.

It’s even more obvious in the pleased grumble that follows them all the way down.

Soonyoung has been scolded one too many times to repeat the same mistake of ripping them off. He knows how bratty you get when your belongings become collateral to his prone bone, how vengeful you can be. How long you’re happy to go without his touch and how painful it is to go without yours.

His shoulders tense at the memory. The frustration enforced a stark change in behavior all within that one week of celibacy.

“Always so… so gentle for—mmh, me…. good boy, so good baby,” when you’re like this, it’s the easiest rule to obey in the world. After all, positive reinforcement is the foremost currency for buying Kwon Soonyoung’s patience.

A shiver stutters through your body, goosebumps forming against his chin as it lies snug against your thigh.

“Cute.”

“Shut up..” there’s no hiding the smile this time. It’s plain across his features as he bites his bottom lip.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Not a moment later and he’s back to nibbling at your flesh (just as an excuse to lick over it). Saliva draws a path up your thigh and you laugh over this obsession he’s developed: the obsession with having his tongue on you.

It’s hard to forget his bashful admission that ‘tasting every part of you’ turned him on. How his pupils had blown so wide, bright red fingers covering his bright red nose, firm arms curled over his head to obscure your view of his equally bright red ears.

The same fingers that fluttered at your hips, and the same fingers that sit an inch away from his second favorite place to lie: between your legs (the first being between your arms, as the small spoon, with his head resting on your tits.)

He lets a hot breath trail across your underwear before pressing his nose up against you with a sigh. His hands sneak behind your ass and hold onto you. Not pulling or pushing, just holding. Thrumming. Pressing.

“You drumming something out down there?”

Your boyfriend nips back at you this time, with a “wouldn’t you like to know.” and his best attempt at a smirk.

“Loser.” it comes as a half-truth, half-joke, but he takes it as a challenge. Typical.

After a single snort, he urges your knees to spread wider with a gentle bite to one side. He practically slobbers his way up to your heat, only closing his soaked mouth when he makes a show of smelling you.

“Gross. Stop it—“ you find it near impossible to overpower him and clamp your legs close, even more irritated by his unbothered face as his toned and slick arms keep you spread.

“Not gross. Smells good, baby, wanna smell like you…” the crass idea of him wanting to smell like your slick isn’t what shuts you up.

What stuns you to silence is his nose dragging back and forth, side to side, around and around, filling the air with your whimpers as you fuss against the headboard.

You know that he knows he’s being mean. The layer of fabric between you is leaving so little to the imagination, your want seeping through it, and you just might let him rip them off this time, just to close that distance and finally fucking—

Your imaginary protest is forgotten the second he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, dragging them all the way off.

What a pretty mouth.

“Thank you.” you realize a beat too late that you’ve said that out loud.

The shine of his bared teeth (and the wetness that had collected in your panties, now smothered across his chin) makes you roll your eyes.

You smile back, calling him a “brat.”

And he was a total brat. And it was totally your fault.

But there’s no time to enjoy the following silence when he’s so hard that he might pass out. Instead, he lays flat on his stomach and bends one knee, starting to rock against the mattress underneath you both. By the time he finishes making a mess of your skin (and himself), he’s hungry.

And if he kisses like it’s sleep to the exhausted, then Soonyoung eats like a starved man.

His own spit mixes with your wetness in one languid, indulgent lick, and suddenly, he’s everywhere. Fast, breathy laps at your clit, his tongue traveling in tight circles, vibrating as he grunts shamelessly on top of you. Your back curves inward as you attempt to muffle your own sighs.

Desperately trying to hear him mumble away inside you. Try being the key word; its way too much way too quick for you to keep quiet.

Soonyoung would call it something obnoxious: say it was world-ending, but all the attention and worship from his mouth and hands and the heat of his every breath on you might just justify his drama.

His lithe fingers and their angel touch—the kind of sensation you’d only be blessed with in heaven. To experience it like this, all sweaty and red and alive, feels a bit like sin.

Feels even better knowing that he’s dry humping himself to a climax over it.

Happy tears destroy your mascara as he savors you without pause or pity.

The room is warmed by his hopeless whispers of praise: ‘so pretty’, ‘so wet’, ‘thank you’, ‘god’, ‘needed this’ and ‘love you’. With his sweet, sweet moans, and the occasional squeak that means he’s definitely slowing himself down against the mattress to avoid coming before you.

Still, you can’t help but stare at him—even through your bleary eyes. If you weren’t lost in your own unintelligible whimpers, you might think to take a photo.

The scene is debauched, lewd, and so fucking hot, and all you want is to savor it forever, to keep it on your person like a badge of honor.

His wild eyes flicking between you and your twitching legs, pupils blown so wide you can’t help but purr. The whimpering that catches in his wet throat and comes out obscenely loud anyway. How desperate he is to watch you feeling good, and how the look on your face as he soaks you in his tongue is priceless.

Soonyoung lifts himself up briefly to spit on his fingers. With the string of saliva collecting on your throbbing pussy, he slides them through your entrance and beckons inward. A come here kind of gesture. The kind he knows will make you squeal and press your thighs hard against his cheeks.

Your boyfriend knows your body better than his own. Every freckle on your skin, or every mole that appears where you can’t spot it, and seeks it out just so the knowledge is his and his alone; so it can’t be kept by anyone else (and after however many years, this secret is amongst the closest to his heart.)

“God, you’re so wet. so wet baby, so warm too, fuuuuck, so warm.. wanna, hmm gonna, gonna live between your legs. gonna, oh fuck—“ his garbles between your lips entertain you enough to smile. You watch closely when his hips stutter as he works himself up, drool gathering in the corner of his lips at the thought of making you cum like this.

“So pretty this way… my pretty girl, feels good?” his mouth is salivating, throat mewling as he watches you rock your hips into him, driving against his face so deliciously, presenting yourself to him.

Of course, he takes it. It’s too generous a gift to refuse.

He knows his favorite present is yet to come but it won’t take much more waiting, the tell tale signs of your orgasm already smothering your face.

The thought turns his eyes into those famous crescent moons and you try to rest your hands beside them, to show him an ounce of affection, but they end up yanking his hair back after one particularly loud slurp against your clit.

All that sudden vibration catches you totally off guard. It’s messy and long and so desperate that you can’t help but shove his head a little further closer.

His fingers curl slower and slower against that tender spot inside you, so deliberate in caressing it each and every pass that you can’t help but start to shake.

Your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you’re almost scared it’s going to stop. Every breath he chases from you is labored and short and you think you might just die, when—

“Gonna come? please, baby, baby… c’mon, don’t make me beg for you.” he’s literally sobbing, begging you not to force a ‘please’ from him, ignorant of the fact that he’s already begged and pleased several times already. It’s no surprise he’s too pussydrunk to notice—he’s always this way. Fucked dumb with the joy of watching you get off.

The image makes your cunt clench around him that bit tighter, too excited and too overstimulated, you can’t help but come. Goosebumps prickle against his skin as your legs wrap tight around his head (and this maybe his other favorite part: holding his breath as you tremor above him.)

And then, they drop, your hips quivering and abdomen seizing as they try to handle your climax. Which might make him upset, if he weren’t busy coaxing you through it with long, wet, licks, one firm hand caressing your lower back as it convulses, the other speeding up as it furls and unfurls within you. Stringing it out just that bit more.

It’s more than enough for Soonyoung to finish, much more embarrassingly, in his pants against the duvet he’d so fervently been jerking over this whole time.

He whimpers against your soaked cunt and the overstimulation makes you roll over, leaving him face up to your side, hand worming its way into yours.

“Fuck. If I miss my flight— fuck. you’re, ugh I can’t believe I let you— you’re so driving me to the airport.” your tone is directly contradicted by just how tight you squeeze his hand back.

He doesn’t say anything, trying real hard to hide the shit-eating grin on his face. Which only lasts as long as he can hold his laughter (about five seconds) and then he’s thrashing about as you shove him back and forth.

“Asshole!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry baby, I just—“

“God, you suck—“

He turns over at that, resting his cheek on your stomach and looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“Yea, baby. Yes I do.”

penned by rowan, still a result of this insane video

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satoruhour · 1 year ago

Note

reader x toji where they hav an argument nd the reader dresses slutty and suddenly has plans at the club w her friends. but toji doesnt like that 🫣

a/n: IM HERE . IM HERE SORRY IVE BEEN RB-ING SO MANY THINGS !!!! but i promise im writing hahahaha. but also i dont owe anyone an explanation! enjoy anon!

wc: 1.4k

warnings: toji picks ur lock w/ a bobby pin lol, reader is a little mean LMFAO but #valid, dom!toji, pussy drunk tojiiiii, implied overstimulation, oral / cunnilingus (from the back + face-sitting + lying on ur back), exhibitionism? (reader is on call with her friends but her girls don’t know she’s getting eaten out!), implied unprotected p -> v sex @ the end, implied creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“yeah— but you didn’t have to say it like that!” you huffed out at your boyfriend, or so you thought, because you probably had read too much into this relationship, heart tearing apart when toji simply said he was with his woman, with benefits while on the phone with shiu.

you tsked when toji opened his mouth to explain, a distraught expression on his face that implied it was a slip of his mouth but even then you were relentless about the simple slip-up that meant a lot to you. it wasn’t often that toji had anything but an indifferent expression on him and you’d relish in his panicking face with a smug grin if it wasn’t for your rage.

“stupid fucker — still thinkin’ i’m just some bitch he fucks like he doesn’t whine for me in his sleep,” you grumble to yourself mindlessly later, phone blowing up from the messages from your friends while you scour through various outfits that slowly flood your bed.

No way he said that!!!! Wtf???? Who does he think he is?

let’s bring u out tonight babe. wear sum cute

yeah!!. Let’s get ur mind off of that lame fella . he still kinda hot tho…

it’s messy and there’s a continuous clash of colour with each skirt or top you pull out and you groan in annoyance, so you take a shower — and it’s not all that better either, mulling over that dreaded sentence while lathering yourself up, while washing it off, getting dressed. it pisses you off so much that a man’s words can affect you so much, but that’s the price you pay when it comes to toji.

the toji who gives you a crushed, bloody bouquet after coming back from one of his dangerous missions, the toji who grumbles while he pushes the last nugget in the mcdonald’s box toward you despite loving it, the toji who likes to feel your body against his because he’s said that the mere sensation of you pressed up against him is enough to make him cum.

you scoff when you hear a knock on the door, in the midst of pulling an extremely short skirt up your hips with your ass basically peeking out from under it, paying it no mind before securing a tube around your bust.

“shut the fuck up!” you bark back when toji knocks again and there’s silence altogether, rolling your eyes when there’s a dramatic sigh from behind the wooden door and your feet naturally has you swerving away from the bed to open up the door, if not for the call from your girls that come in. the ringtone echoes throughout the room, distracting you from the professional work being done by toji with one of your bobby pins.

with phone on the bed, it’s led to your ass being propped up while you’re on your hands, butt facing the door with a full on display of your miniskirt and the very lacey underwear toji’s gotten for you for your anniversary. it was a petty move, you know — everything felt right when you pulled the material over your legs after your shower, not expecting yourself to pick up such a revealing bottom.

but now you know everything definitely felt right when those panties pooled at one of your ankles that hang off the bed while you’re trying not to whimper into the call with your girls who’s just so excited to see you. it’s a wonder they haven’t already heard the sloppy noises of toji eating it from the back, hands gripping onto your ass cheeks so hard they form bruises and you don’t have it in you to give a fuck when the other licks a hot, long stripe up your folds.

“left the house already, hon?” one of your friends ask and you’re gripping so tightly onto the phone that it hurts a little, not missing the way toji mumbles out that your pussy tastes as sweet as ever.

“uh— ah! n-not yet!” you squeal when toji smiles into your cunt and you absolutely hate how your hips shimmy toward him instinctively when your boyfriend pulls on your thighs to bring you closer, “i’ll leave soon, o-okay— mm—”

“babe?”

“okay bye!” you panic and press the large red button, hanging up immediately before your moans increase in volume immediately and your head dips into the bedsheets. the man eats pussy like a starved man, slobbering over your pussy while his nose just takes in your scent and arousal — something that’s gotten him hooked since day one. your leaking hole, your sensitive clit, your twitching thighs. god, toji loved every part of you and he was determined to fuck you better than a friend with benefits.

“’m sorry baby, mmfhh—” toji grunts into your core, “any chance ya could forgive your old man?”

the hold on your pride was getting looser and looser while your hands only clutch the sheets tighter and tighter, whimpers turning into a borderline scream when the man manoeuvres himself under you and yanks you down onto his face. your arms support your limp body instantly, hips moving with their own mind as you grind into toji’s tongue with breathless pants, rolling your pelvis over him and he groans at the feeling. toji doesn’t care that your miniskirt is in the way, eyes peeking out from the fabric and flitting over to you and your breath hitches cause you know he’s serious in earning back your forgiveness.

“not when— haah… you’re still saying i’m just some— w-whore you fuck.” you’re still a little bitter, but toji below you is enough to make you clench around nothing, high already approaching when he switches between sucking and nibbling and flicking his tongue at your bundle of nerves.

“slip of the tongue, i promise, doll,” he talks into your drooling pussy, the vibrations sending chills up your body, hands flying to his hair to grab onto toji’s hair and pulling, “you’re my cute lil girlfriend, aren’t ya?” you hate how easily you nod your head, “mine to fuck, and mine to eat out, yeah?”

that sentence alone has you needing to lock eyes with toji just for a moment to see his lips curl up slyly, bottom half of his face soaked with your juices that your stomach contracts a little at the sight, a weak whimper leaving your lips.

“yeah…” you mumble out breathlessly and that’s all it takes for toji to go back to eating, quickly bringing that burning coil in your tummy again while slurping up your arousal. the room feels so hot and you’re sure you’re sweating through your outfit that you so carefully picked out that you’re peeling it off your body. your lover only wraps his larger arms around your thighs when he sees that your pretty tits are out, intoxicated on the thin layer of sweat lining your body and the curve of your upper body.

“toji, toji, toji—” you’re chanting his name like it’s a mantra, dizzy from the constant abuse toji does to your clit, pleasure shooting through your body when he moans around your cunt and you’re cumming with a moan of his name, thighs shivering around his head that he only laughs, humming into your core while you soak his sheets and skin. you’re just about prepared to get fucked when you catch a glimpse of toji’s hand palming his bulge, but that isn’t what toji has in mind when he changes positions again.

“taste s’good, baby,” toji groans, pulling apart your thighs that close from the sensitivity, “let me eat ya out until i’m forgiven.”

and all he can do is stick to his words whenever after each orgasm he pulls from you, you’re shaking your head like you’re saying you aren’t forgiven and he figures out your game soon enough, but whatever his girlfriend says, it goes. it’s just like that for toji who worships every part of you, a mistake rewarded well later when he taps his fat, leaking tip on your cunt and slips in easily from how many times he’s made you cum, reaching nirvana just from hearing your still-loud mewls leaving your worn-out body.

it’ll be something that will be burnt into his brain, forever, but toji doesn’t have time to think about that for now, so he just fucks you like he thinks a sorry man should fuck — deep into your cunt with the promise of being better and the need of giving you everything you ask for, even if it’s something as simple of wanting his cum in you.

whatever his princess wants, his princess gets.

i cannot go a day without mentioning breeding omfg im actually deranged

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miumura · 1 year ago

Text

💭 — ENHYPEN WHEN YOU CALL THEM BRO !

tysm for requesting anon!! i hope you enjoy <3

warnings : mentions of pet names (like once or twice?), mentions of kissing

🖇️ — HEESEUNG

— at first he’s chill and thinks it was just a slip up

— cause he knows you’ve been hanging out with riki and jungwon too much lately so he lets it slide at first

— but like once he hears it again hes like okay something is up . so like he automatically stops everything he’s doing and just stares at you.

— “why do you keep calling me bro?” and you’re like 🤨 cause you thought nothing was wrong about it

— he fr goes on a full rant about why you shouldn’t be calling him bro and only his members could and how you’re only allowed to call the rest bro 😭

— ofc u don’t take him seriously cause he looks cute complaining about it. and he’s like “are you listening.” and you js go “yeah bro i am” and he falls onto his knees SO DRAMATIC FR .

— and you have to apologize millions of times and give him a bunch of kisses which he gladly accepts as a payment <3

— now you know not to do so ! you do it sometimes for fun tho

🖇️ — JAY

— he’s gonna be so quick to spot it out, he just won’t let it slide.

— “bro? really?” automatically raises his eyebrow and starts questioning you . imagine a cartoon character js angrily tapping their foot on the ground , hes like that LMAO

— you just wanted to tease him more so you’re like “what’s wrong with that?”

— “im not your bro, im your boyfriend.” he’s so straightforward with it , it just makes u fall for him again.

— he feels happy when he manages to convince you to stop doing it doesn’t tell you how relieved he felt LMFAO

— and without you knowing he goes onto scolding heeseung bc you’ve been hanging around him lately LMAO

— “heeseung they been saying bro a lot.” “okayyy jay what does this have to do with me..” “you’re the problem in our relationship.” “WHAT?” save heeseung

🖇️ — JAKE

— gets real pouty and confused real quick after hearing it more than once. like he’s sure that bro is in his vocabulary BUT hearing you call him bro ??? its just a no no.

— “okay i think that’s enough.” and ure like enough of what .. and hes going on a rant for real BUT hes shy about it … like sir spit it out !!!

— you were understanding untillll it started slipping out again. he’s like devastated and goes on saying “layla would never call me bro” LIKE AS IF HIS DOG HAD ANY PART TO THIS??

— now you only call him bro for fun or like when he gets u mad on purpose .. it became an advantage bc he switches up SO FAST just for you to not call him that anymore. love him <3

— starts using more pet names with you so that you’re reminded that he’s your lover and not some bro </3

— “love you snookums” “okay that’s even worse than your other nickname.” “can’t help it.”

🖇️ — SUNGHOON

— nope he does not take it!! he does not want his own lover to be calling him bro ??

— “do bros do this?” bye he would go to you and kiss you , maybe bring you onto your lap too and js look at you .. or just wrap his arms around your waist .. “i don’t think bros do that.” sir stop this im not ur strongest soldier

— after seeing ur flustered face , he’d grin feeling proud .

— every time you do that, he’s just gonna start becoming really clingy and just touchy

— andddd you can say you call him bro on purpose 😊 he knows

— but he doesn’t care cause that just gives him a reason to just shower you with kisses 😊

🖇️ — SUNOO

— if he’s busy w something and hears you call him bro, he’s whipping his head around so fast when he hears that from you

— literally this emoji 😧 and is like “what did you just say?”

— and you repeat it again and he’s like okay … this is a problem. he racks up ideas on why you would call him that…he thinks real hard as if your relationship with him is falling apart???

— you have to explain how when you’re comfortable w/ someone you call them that. as much as he’s glad you’re comfy with him, he still refuses it

— “i’m glad you feel comfortable with me, but i rather for you to call me something sweet. like love or baby or something. just not bro.”

— gen feels proud that you listened and called something else . smiles like an idiot whenever you called him something sweet! your reward? lots of love from sunoo <3 as if he doesn’t shower you with love everyday

🖇️ — JUNGWON

— oh you already know he’s just gonna laugh it off awkwardly. LIKE REAL AWKWARD

— ha. ha. ha. it’s literally him and funny to imagine

— and you’re like 🤨 cause why tf is he acting like that

— “oh nothing 😊” he’s lying and he’s glad you picked up on it, hoping you’d catch on

— and he starts double taking, maybe he wasn’t being so affectionate as a bf which he is stop and just starts trying to do more physical touch w/ you or any of the love languages you love </3

— you calling him bro got him asking jay for help 😭

— literally only feels better until you call him something else than bro. like he feels like he’s doing well and is proud of it ! like once you call him smth else hes all giggly and like oh 🤭please don’t call him bro in the future </3

🖇️ — NIKI

— okay okay, he knows you and him joke around a lot, but you’re getting a LITTLE too comfortable

— like the person he loves ??? besides his other members ??? calling him bro ???

— like he wouldn’t be too vocal on it until you’ve said it to him too much . he would try to show you how he doesn’t like it as much but you don’t seem to pick up on it.

— so what does he do? hold your hand / ask for a hug after you do! surely you’ll get it 😊 and trust me you do.

— “ki why the hell are you holding onto my hand so tight?” “ i dunno, why am i?”

— once you find out, you tease him sm, leaving him with a red face and telling you to shut up.

— but once you stop, he feels relieved <3 love him lots please

— just starts becoming very clingy to you now :)

💭 — i love my boyfriends 😊

ENHA PERM TAGLIST — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @tnyhees @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee

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dontfearrr · 10 months ago

Text

Best friends father

Heavily based on best friends brother from victorious lmfao. But this is a very funny request that you can find here

(gif not mine:)

Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!reader

Summary: Legolas and Thranduil have no idea of each others roles in your life

Warnings: none

Category: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Word count: 1.6k

----------------------

Twisting branches hovered high above her and all around her, whistles of the wind through the trees lingered through her ears like an eerie song sung just for her. She glanced around the path, knowing he was out there somewhere, he played this game with her all the time. However this time she was determined to win it. She felt chills crawl up her spine and she nocked an arrow in the blink of an eye, turning her body and releasing the arrow further up.

He felt the brush of the arrow graze his arm and he knew she had won. He swung from branch to branch and landed in front of her on his two feet, she watched his hair fall down back into place perfectly and she giggled, crossing her arms. “You know what, I'll give that one to you. I'm impressed.” He swung his bow back over his shoulder.

“Legolas it is quite rude to underestimate a lady” She told the white haired elf who stared down at her in amusement. “Sorry…if i'm not mistaken, i've won every single time, until now. So I think it was fair” Legolas joked back, only poking at you playfully.

She’d known Legolas for a good thousand years by now, they met during a trading with Imladris and since then they were glued together at the hip. Best friends some would say but if you asked her, she'd tell you he's some silly dumb ass who doesn't know how to handle his elven wine.

“You just insist on making sure i know you're better than me.'' She gave him a playful eyeroll and began their walk back to the main palace, knowing they both have duties to tend to. “I assume once we return you'll be going off with your mystery lover?” Legolas teased, knowing lately she'd been quite infatuated and busied with her new asset. He was glad she had finally found someone in her life, he felt like a proud brother. (the irony im so sorry)

“You'd be correct, elf boy. Hopefully he's feeling extra nice today..” She teased, knowing Legolas hated hearing the descriptive details of their relationship.

Legolas groaned in agony and shook his head at her suggestive and very unnecessary comment. “I have never met a more interesting creature.” He used his index finger to push at her shoulder jokingly as they approached the main gates. She gave him a playful smile and chuckled to herself as the guards let them into the kingdom.

“Farewell my friend, late nightfall?” Legolas spoke as he began to walk in the opposite direction of her, waiting for her reply before he turned around.

“Late nightfall it is! Don't miss me too much!”

She bowed to him dramatically and watched him turn around and walk off, she did the same. Only she waited until he was completely out of her sight before she began walking to the palace, her head facing the ground to hide from onlookers. Not that it necessarily mattered, however she wouldn't appreciate it if someone decided to gossip to the prince of her private whereabouts. She made her way down the main hall to the throne room, the guards allowing her through with the command of the king.

She saw him perched upon his beautiful throne, his autumn crown complimenting his head and his blinding white hair fell down his shoulders perfectly, not one hair out of place. He was always a sight to see no matter how many times she'd see him.

He caught her scent long before she even entered the throne room, his head positioned downward at the elf that approached him, her sweet presence instantly making his whole body relax from its usual tense state.

“It is more than a pleasure to see you here, for I have missed you dearly.” his deep voice boomed throughout the entire room as he stood up and began descending from the stairs to meet her at the bottom.

“It was like trying to swat a fly from your drink trying to get rid of him” she chuckled and met him halfway, looking up at him while his arms wrapped around her waist tenderly, pulling her flush against his body in a warm embrace. He ran a hand down the back of her head, smoothing down her hair as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “He seems persistent” he said, a bit jealous of her other companion no matter how many times she would reassure him it's not like that, nor will it ever be.

She just gave him a feigned look of annoyance and brought a hand up to place on his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone gently. “My dear Thranduil, soon you will see the silliness of your jealousy.” she teased him, knowing he hated being called out on his feelings. “Do you insist on making me miserable, my lady?” He gave her a heartfelt smile and placed a hand on her back, gesturing for her to go to the private doors, doors which only the king and prince were allowed to use. They were passages that lead to everything, just quicker and more discrete.

Every day, Thranduil took her to a new place, slowly showing her every beauty Mirkwood had to offer. His love for her grew every day and only made him want to do anything for her, anything he could. Today he was taking her to the Amaranthine Garden, the specific flora only visible to the royals. He was sure you'd love it for it is one of the few ethereal gardens amongst the elves.

Legolas was speaking with a royal guard, telling them about this morning’s duties, sending him off to go inform the rest. Right before he was about to walk back to the main quarters he was stopped by a messenger who handed him an envelope, he looked on the back seeing it was addressed to Thranduil. He cursed these damned messengers for not just giving it directly to his father, that was something he would also discuss with his father when he gave this to him.

He entered the throne room and found it empty..how strange. He never left his throne around these times unless it was severely important. He searched the room a bit and even called out for him but there was silence. That was until he spotted the private corridors left cracked. He could see the light emitting from the small opening of the door and approached it, he opened it fully but saw no one. Yet he got a whiff of a very familiar scent mixed with his fathers. It made him a little uncomfortable, he was determined to get to the bottom of this, something was up. So down the halls he went, peeking inside every single room, basically sniffing his father out like a dog.

She had her hand around his back and her body pressed into his side while he held her close, showing her the garden and telling her all about the unique plants she'd never seen before. There wasn't a second of this moment where she didn't have a smile on her face as her beloved spoke so gently.

Thranduil bent down at his knees and carefully picked a beautiful bunch of Rhododendrons, pulling a thread from his pocket and tying the flowers at the stem, holding it out for her. She felt like a princess when she was with him, he treated her with the utmost respect. She took the flowers from him and smiled kindly. “Thranduil you never fail to put a smile on my face, you know that?” She set the flowers in her satchel and placed her hands on his chest.

“I live and breathe to please you meleth nin. I thought it was quite obvious.”

She giggled at this and felt his hands sneak to her waist, caressing her like a teenage boy, until his head snapped in the direction of the door that led back inside.

“What is my sweet?” she looked at him with quite the confused look until she heard a voice all too familiar.

“Well if it isnt y/n and her mystery lover.” Legolas stood before them with his arms crossed as if he just caught a child sneaking into the cookie jar.

Her head fell to Thranduil's chest in defeat, knowing she'd been caught red handed. Thranduil however was utterly confused, he hadn't put the pieces together just yet. Legolas approached them and she pulled from Thranduil, meeting Legolas in front of them. She sighed and placed a hand on Legolas’ shoulder. “To be completely fair, you see why i didn't tell you” she joked and looked up to Thranduil.

“Meet the best friend.” she spoke sheepishly with a weak smile and Thranduil just simply sighed in utter annoyance at this childish situation. “So you were able to keep both of our identities secret from each other, and this is how we find out? You never fail to surprise me little one” He placed a hand on her lower back and gave Legolas an unimpressed look.

“I think you might find yourself with an arrow in your chest while you sleep tonight” Legolas playfully threatened. “That's if you wish to go blind, you'll find me cosying up with your father in a not so friendly manner.” She shot back, earning a chuckle from Thranduil and a gag from Legolas.

“I curse you woman.” Legolas turned around to leave them. “And I curse you father, you'll be lucky if you don't find poison in your wine tonight” He said before leaving dramatically, leaving her and Thranduil to laugh amongst themselves.

“I think that went great!” she tried weakly as Thranduil simply shook his head and continued their walk through the garden.

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toomiieimagiines · 1 month ago

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hihihi

uhm so am i allowed to request again (i don’t wanna spam) 😭😭🙏

and if i am can u pls do a rui x hopeless romantic best friend reader (i’m totally normal about best friends to lovers lmfao)

so like the reader is always yapping about hot guys and it’s a little angsty at first because rui is thinking to himself ‘why did i have to fall inlove with someone that won’t ever choose me’ and then one day a hot guy comes up to reader and asks her out, reader is about to say yes but then she realises that she barely knew him and there was someone (rui) who had been by her side since day one and she figures out who she really loves (RUIII) so she rejects him and when rui asks why she just hugs him and says ‘because your the one i really want’ mwah mwah i feel like such a genius (i really hope this made sense lmao be prepared for a million bestie-> lovers and angst-> fluff rui requests 😼)

thank youyoyoyoyoyuuu!!

hi guys! i’m so so incredibly sorry for how inactive i have been! unfortunately, the fanfic writer curse caught up to me, and i’ve had considerably bad things happen to me! ToT

i had developed a really bad addiction after a recent episode - which may be why i’ve loved to write my characters so miserable, but they get a happy ending in the end - and have recently relapsed after a couple months. i’ve also been struggling with a lot of things, like being bullied again, pressure from theater, classes, autism, parental issues, memory of past trauma, having no friends, things like that. i’ve just been having a really hard time, so writing has been super difficult for me. i’m currently having some of the worst mental health in my life, and am un-recovering from other things i’ve had in the past too, after seeing the results of my recovery. sorry if this triggered anybody, i just needed to get this off my chest, and felt also that i should explain where i have been. you all supporting me has kept me going, and i hope you enjoy this one too! LETS END THE PITY PARTY!!!

in other - not so depressing news - here you guys go!! sorry for OOCness, obviously this is a more dramatic approach to a story! happy ending, j tried to write the inner narration differently for how you two were feeling at the time.. and ty once again for such a great idea, mama ^3^

“I don’t think I could stand to be where you don’t see me.”

If he has to sit here and listen to this one more time, he thinks he’ll go insane.

Rui Kamishiro loves you. He truly does. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his-

Never mind.

Rui loves you, but he absolutely HATES your taste in guys, and it’s driving him nuts. Nodding and agreeing can only get him so far before he wants to rip his own hair out, and tonight is no exception.

“I give up! All boys are dumb, I don’t need them!” You lament, resting your chin in your hands. It’s the same song and dance over and over. You swear off boys, you get attention, you get sucked in, and he has to pick up the pieces when it inevitably fails. How many times has he thought about how much better he would treat you now? He doesn’t know. He’d be a classical lover, he’d never speak to you the way those stupid unprincipled high school boys do.

Gross. That’s his best friend, why’d he think that? And when did he start being so self confident? He really outta look at himself in the mirror. What an egomaniac he’s turning out to be.

He shakes his head.

“You do know I’m still a boy, right?” He prods, trying to cheer you up. He knows this situation well, and he knows exactly how to make you feel better. Again he’d pull you out of this, and again he’d watch you fall in love.

He wishes you could be happy. He wishes you weren’t in love with being in love. You’re too pure for true love, love is disgusting, depraved, and unkind. You’re not anything like that.

“I know, I know, but you’re the only good one!” You point, words self-assured. “I don’t need a boyfriend, you do everything boyfriendy for me anyway!”

Ouch. Thanks a lot, that’s exactly what he needed to hear right now. He’s not gonna dwell on that last bit for now, he’ll wait until he’s home. Then he can- he doesn’t know. Cry, or something juvenile like that.

“So I’m back-up-boyfriend?” He masks himself in jest, smiling teasingly at you.

“Eh, maybe,” you snicker, “you’d definitely be cute if you weren’t my friend.”

He turns to his school work sharply, trying to mask his complete and utter despair. Ugh, why does he have to be so dramatic? His own personality makes his skin crawl with disgust and hatred, and that only makes him cringe more. He could think about how obnoxious he is all day. Maybe he should use that go home and cry pass early. He pretends to check the time, as if that isn’t all he’s been doing.

“It’s getting late, after this problem I should get going.” He mutters, scribbling some random numbers into his notebook. You yawn in response, being broken out of absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

“Ugh, I wish you didn’t have to go!” You drape an arm over his torso, trying to hold him in. He smiles fondly, wrestling to get you off of him.

“I’d have to walk home in the dark then, do you want that?” He knows you’d never let him, and he sees it immediately.

Your face looks knowing, and you let him go right away. It amuses him at first, but quickly fills him with overwhelming pity. You’re so kindhearted it makes him sick. You shouldn’t worry about someone like him, it’s bad for your health.

“Would you like me to walk home with you?!” You shoot up, the idea of him not being safe running through your head. Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. How emasculating! He’s not a helpless young girl! He’s just as manly as those boys who you long for, he’s not a puppy to be walked!

God, is jealously turning him into a bigot? He shakes his head once again, this time not just to clear his thoughts. He’s absolutely not letting you walk him home, it’d be mortifying. He takes your attention belly up, you should have a break. Maybe some time to yourself for a change? God, Rui, get a grip.

“I’m fine, I don’t want you out late by yourself either,” he assures, looking at you in haste.

“Ah. You have a point.”

“I always do.” He means more to that, and he wishes he could tell you. He wants you to see that even he knows what he’s talking about. He needs you to see him, just for once. Not as a best friend, or backup boyfriend, just as a regular one. As a lover who dances in the rain, or ties your shoes

He needs to stop. He shouldn’t think about you like that. It’s lecherous.

You two exchange goodbyes, giving him a long hug (much to his horror). He hates how feverish it is it hold you like this, it makes him feel guilty. His body gets hot, his cheeks flare up, his throat feels tight- it makes him feel like a pervert, even if his thoughts are the farthest thing from lewd.

He feels that everything he thinks about you is repulsive, though.

“Be safe”’s and “See you later”’s are passed between you two, and he walks down your front steps, now completely alone. His eyes scan the damp pavement, seeing the golden hues from the sky light the boring rock. That’s how he feels about you, he decides. You’re the sun, and he’s the pavement. He humors himself by thinking that your suitors are the clouds, stopping you from shining your light for him so he can grow weeds in the cracks of his soul. That’s what these feelings are. Weeds.

He wants to live life beautifully with you, he decides. He wants to tie your shoes, he wants to twirl you as you dance.

He wishes he could be the moon. Something of consequence- of importance, but he’s just the pavement. Not the earth, not the stars, not the clouds, or rain, he’s just a man made monster who destroys nature - you - and is walked over by people who do matter.

He should quit being this way, he grumbles, it doesn’t do anybody any good to be so flowery. He’s too girly- too weak. Maybe that’s why you don’t like him. If you’re willing to date anything that moves other than him, that must mean he’s on a completely new level, huh?

That’s what dreaming gets you, Rui. Crushed dreams and embarrassment.

He lets out a pitiful sigh, kicking a pebble with his shoe. He sees a worm in a lawn which reminds him of himself, he sees a couple shopping for a new game which reminds him of you, he sees a convenience store which reminds him that he’s hungry-

His life can be so mundane sometimes, what a drag.

He’s about to reach his front door, when he steps into a puddle. It feels like an appropriate representation of his life right now. A sense of disgraceful hilarity washes over him, and he begins to laugh. He laughs a while, he laughs as he takes his shoes off, he laughs as he peels his button up down, and he laughs as he lays in his bed. How dramatic he could be some times!

He falls asleep quickly. He has a dream about being on stage and forgetting his lines.

He wakes up with a thud, he fell out of bed. How embarrassing. He decides to check his phone.

Weirdo: RUII

Weirdo: wanna hang w me 2day?? u don’t have dance time right??

Weirdo: gonna kill you. WAKE UP

Me: I’m awake, sorry!

Weirdo: finally sleeping beauty

Weirdo: wanna get a snack? i’m simply starved…

Me: When?

Weirdo: an hr maybe…

Me: Okay :) I’ll tell you when I leave.

Weirdo: kay!!

He really doesn’t feel like being social today, but he’d never pass up an opportunity to see you. He’s an obscene degenerate when it comes to you, pouncing on your attention like a sick dog. It’s mortifyingly pathetic.

He gets dressed, throwing on a boring striped sweater. It’s getting colder outside recently, and he’s always ran cold anyway. His hands are shaky and nervous as he brushes his teeth, the anxiousness to see you making his body jittery. He considers breakfast, but quickly shuts the idea down. He doesn’t want to be stressed out - at least more than he already is - when he sees you. Twitchy hands lock his door, and he gets a few feet away before he double checks that he did, in fact, lock it. Pull yourself together, Rui! He screams at himself.

The walk is just as unexciting as he expected, albeit a bit chilly. He’s feeling thankful for the sweater. The breeze runs its hands through his hair, and he’s reminded that winter is coming. He always liked Autumn flowers the best, hibiscus flowers are pretty too, he supposes. It’s nice to have the warmth of the sun soothing his cold hands during summer, for sure.

He trips over a rock on the way, and his pants get wet on the knees. Khaki blends into an ugly brown, and he sighs. How unlucky, would anything go right for him today?

Turns out it will, you look really good today.

You great him at the door, practically buzzing with eagerness. It makes him smile, knowing that you do, in fact, want to see him. Or at least are acting like it. You’re a good friend to him, he’s lucky to have you.

“Rui!” You hug him as a greeting, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His heart soothes, eyes closing in relaxation. Problems feel obscure and distant when you two are like this, despite his reluctance last night. He can forget about corrupt feelings - or misguided love- and he can just be your best friend. Despite his apprehension to be cared for, he is flattered that you, at least, seem to like him.

“Hey.” He breaths you in, his voice soft. He hopes you don’t notice, it’s embarrassing.

“Hey!” You reply, pulling away. “Big things planned, Rui!”

“What big things?” He asks, amused. “Big things” for you were junk food and shopping.

“Big things! It’s a surprise!” You put your shoes on, and he can’t help but feel jealous as he watches your hands tie them dutifully. He sighs, stretching. He decides to make it a challenge to act normal the whole day. No weird thoughts are going to beguile his mind, he promises himself.

You lock your front door, twisting the knob to make sure that it did, in fact, lock. This fills him with a child-like sense of delight, maybe you two really were similar.

Nah, not possible. You’re too pure - too perfect. Ugh, Rui, no more stupid thoughts.

He watches you check the time, make a face at a nearby bird, and cover your cheeks with your hands. You suddenly perk up, wrapping your arms around him.

“Warm me up, will ya?” You scowl at the cool air, grip tightening. He gulps. It’s weird he reacts like this, considering you two have done things like this all the time. It’s normal, so why does he have to be such a creep? His arms wrap around yours, running his hands up and down to create heat.

“Should’ve worn a jacket,” he chides, “wouldn’t be cold, y’know?” His voice is so casual, like everything is totally fine. It is fine. Fine, fine, fine.

“Gotta look good. I’m on the hunt, obviously,” you joke. It isn’t funny to him, but he lets out a laugh.

“You’re hopeless.”

You two stop at a convenience store first, and you all but sprint to the drinks. He had this ritual down to a science. You grab two different color slushies, and he grabs whatever odd snack catches your collective stomachs eye today. Today the two of you decide to split a cookie, and walk to the counter. The cashier gives you a smirk, and he averts his eyes.

“This it?” The boy cocks his head, and you get the memo. You immediately jump on the opportunity.

“Mhm!” You wink, resting your chin in your hands while leaning against the counter. In all honestly, he wasn’t even that cute. At least, that’s what Rui kept telling himself.

“Don’t worry about it, than. I got you guys,” he waves you off. Score! You think, but he adds. “If I can get your number.” Rui feels like falling into the floor, how awkward! You just scribble it onto a stray receipt, winking.

“Thank you! You’re the sweetest!!” You singsong, skipping along with Rui following suite. You immediately burst into laughter, throwing a fake punch at Rui. “What a weirdo! Like I’d call him over what, 1000 yen?! I don’t even know him, yuck!”

So you did have some sense, he feels like letting out a sigh of relief. You hold your hands out.

“Which one do you want? I got your favorite!!” You look so proud, and he wants to laugh. His “favorite” isn’t actually his favorite, but he’d never tell you that.

The lie started one day in middle school, when the two of you suddenly had a weird craving for slushies. When you picked them out, you had gotten a red one and a blue one, and asked him what he wanted. While he really didn’t like red, he knew you liked blue, so he said red. Now for the past four years, you’ve always ended up getting him a red one, thinking it was his favorite. He’ll deal with it for you. Seeing your blue tongue stick out with brain freeze is better than any sugary drink anyway.

“Red, duh.” He scoffs playfully, taking a sip of it. The taste doesn’t really bother him all that much anymore. It reminds him of you.

You always let him divide the snacks, thinking he gives himself the bigger half. He never does, but he eats slower so you think he did. You skip along, enjoying it.

“Y’know, this isn’t bad. Wish they had the brownie, though. That never does us wrong.” God, don’t make him think of the ‘crack brownies’ - as you two call them. Those are great, and he likes them, so you never miss an opportunity to shove them down his throat.

“Don’t complain. Remember the egg roll incident?” He points, laughing at the memory. You two steer clear of that section now, having gotten sick.

“Ugh, I haven’t thought about that in a while! I’m never eating an egg roll again after that day! Ugh,” you gag.

Moments of silly memories like this make him feel like he’s known you forever. He can’t even remember a moment where he hasn’t loved you.

“Where’re we going now, commander?” He salutes, following the trail of sunshine you left behind.

“Where ever the wind blows us, kind sir!” You salute back, pushing him along. Your constant checks of your phone don’t go unnoticed by him, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Who’re you texting? Don’t tell me it’s that guy.” He tries to sound casual, knocking his shoulder against yours playfully.

“‘M not a total idiot, I’ll have you know!” You huff, holding your phone to your chest. “It’s just somebody we went to school with a while back, ‘m seeing if I can pull the moves.”

“Do I know him?”

“Dunno, never saw you two talking, so maybe not. He was in my english class, remember, the only class we didn’t have together?”

“Ah.”

You two walk in silence, except for when he yanks you back from the collar so you don’t walk into oncoming traffic, which amuses you greatly. You two soon arrive at the small mall, and he tails you as you run with excitement. You two browse everything, constantly pointing out cute plushies, or interesting keychains.

“Rui, look! Look!” You shake him, pointing to the back of somebody’s head inconspicuously. “Wait don’t yet- Okay, now! He’s turning around! That’s the guy! What a coincidence we see him here, right? Do you recognize him?”

Ha. Yeah, he knows this guy. He definitely knows him. He’s the one who would trip him during passing periods, he’s the one who left flowers on his desk. They make eye contact, and it’s like all of his growth left his body. He’s just the same freak from middle school, he’s still thirteen.

He shudders at the guys smirk, sensing that he definitely knows that Rui knows him. He jogs over to the two of you, and Rui already knows what’s about to happen, due to the lopsided smile on your face.

Damnit, this is the first time he doesn’t think he can act like it’s okay.

“Oh wow, what a coincidence! Must be fate we run into each other like this, ehe…” You giggle awkwardly, a dumb expression gracing your face. It’s painful seeing you that way for anybody other than him, and he looks away awkwardly.

“Must be.” He answers, swaggering closer towards you. Rui thanks whatever God above because - despite his current situation - at least this asshole didn’t go to highschool with you guys.

He looks down at his shoes, and tries to shuffle away, knowing this jackass is about to say something. He’s quickly stopped.

“Who’s this, huh? Feel like a recognize him from somewhere…” He trails off, smirking through his nose as he turns his attention to him. “Have we met before?”

“This is Kamishiro Rui, he’s my friend! He went to middle school with us, remember?” You happily answer for him.

Ha, friend? What happened to back-up boyfriend? He’s a little hurt, to be honest.

He feels bitter, it’s unbecoming- God, he doesn’t care. He should feel bad for getting so angry over it, it’s not like you belong to him. He’s such a freak, getting attached to you like this.

He starts to pick at his fingers, then he plays with a loose string on his sweater. You two continue to chat like nothings wrong, and he keeps thinking. It’s something he’s gotten good at recently.

He stops feeling bad about himself for a second- a split second where he resents you, and wishes his pain upon you. Wants you to know what it’s like to be so disgustingly, guiltily, revoltingly obsessed with someone. In this split second, he can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty about it, which is unlike him. He wishes you felt love like this, that you were as psychotic about it.

But this doesn’t last long, because he remembers that he loves you more than anything. He’s lucky to be your friend. You’re a great friend, you’re an amazing person, you’re the sun, the sun, the sun.

He’s the pavement, he has to remember.

“I’m- I’ll leave you to it, y’know? Fabric store.” He stutters, choking on his voice. You don’t even notice, waving him off.

You do, however, remember to press his shoulder, uttering an absentminded “Okay, Rui, bye,” and he remembers again how perfect you are for doing it subconsciously. He lets himself feel the touch, long after he’s walked away. He deserves it after the trouble he’s reliving.

When he makes it to the fabric store - which he really didn’t need anything from, Nene had gotten some the other day - he can’t help himself from wishing he could just go home. Malls were always overwhelming already, and now his saving grace has the attention of another man. He walks through aisles, but realizes that he now has to buy something.

‘Least he knows that social cue, he laughs bitterly, running his hands across his face in frustration. He’s so ridiculous.

Meanwhile, you were chatting up a storm. It was your first time talking in person since middle school, after all! You feel giddy for a while, but it cuts abruptly. You feel a strange sense of urgency, something’s missing.

Oh, your best friend.

But where had he gone? You’re sure he was just here. You smile apologetically at the cute boy, putting on your best performance.

“Oh, I better go get my friend now. I don’t like walking home when it’s late. Was nice seein’ you, let’s hang out soon, ‘kay?” You singsong, stepping closer. You want to give yourself a pat on the back, you’re so cute.

He rolls his eyes, and you’re hit with a wave of uneasiness. That noise he made sounds strangely dismissive, he’s not the kind of guy to be a jerk though, you must be hearing things-

“Leave ‘im. Between you and me, he was a total freak in middle school. Probably is now, too. Probably likes you or somethin’, total nutcase.” His voice sounds so casual, like it’s not the douchiest thing you’ve heard all day.

You let other men walk all over you, sure. You let them cheat on you, lie, whatever. But you’re not about to stand here and insult Rui. He’s the only untouched thing in your life - the only person who isn’t cruel. He’s so gangly and awkward, but in the best way. You could live a million times and not be able to deserve him, at least you think so. He’s so unusual, and that’s what you love most about him. Little things like not liking loud lights, or liking the red slushies the best, make your heart buzzy with familiarity. He’s the one constant in your life.

You’ve been awfully worried about him recently, though. His particularly (as you like to call it) has gone to the an extreme, and it’s been a battle getting him to eat real food. You’re not blind, you see the way he’s been spacing out, or tapping a little too much. You just thought he’d been overwhelmed. He worries you to death sometimes, but despite all of his own struggles, he always seems to not care about it, deciding to always be there for you instead. Ah, he’s just such an amazing guy - no, not guy, he’s not anything like those other boys you talk to. He’d never insult someone like that. He’s not just a guy, he’s like your person.

Yeah, he’s definitely your person.

Your heart sputters at the thought, and you feel something you’ve never really felt before - save for hugs between the two of you that lasted just a second too long, or words a little too romantic. The feeling makes your mind fuzzy, and your heart hurt terribly with something you could only place as homesickness.

Oh.

“I,” you begin, backing away. “Yeah, I’m sorry but I’ll really be going now-“

“What? C’mon I was just messing with you, even though having guy friend’s kinda weird.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah whatever, I’ll call you back,” you say dismissively.

You’re totally lying, you laugh, you’re not calling him back.

He didn’t seem to like that.

“Damn, can’t even joke around with you people. Whatever, weirdo, sorry I insulted your little boyfriend.” The change in tone amuses you.

Yeah, good riddance, pal.

You turn away, walking through the mall with pace. It takes a while, but you spot him watching a pet stores aquarium.

He’s a funny one.

You wave your hands, trying to get his attention. He swallows, knowing that it’s probably to ask him if it’s cool to walk home by himself. Emotions are stupid, and ironically, you both think that at the same time.

“Rui! Rui! Hey c’mon, let’s go home, yeah?” You smile, face feeling warm. It’s a different feeling from when you usually talk to him. He looks at you, a little shocked. He had assumed you were smiling wide because you set up a date, so he turns his head.

“Where is he, huh?” He looks away, back to the fish tank. You shift in place, was he mad at you? You’re a little irritated at the mention of the guy, though, and huff.

“Don’t worry about that. Seems like I only attract douchebags, so I decided to go.” You explain, poking his shoulder. “Hey,” you start, “let’s just walk home, I wanna talk to you about something.” The idea makes you feel dizzy, but you’ll have to illustrate your feelings one day.

You can leave out the “I think I’m in love with you” part, you think.

The two of you walk in an excruciating silence, staring down at the reflection of the setting sun in the puddles. His heart tightens, remembering his earlier comparison. Even now, you’re so perfect. Even if he’s frustrated with you - despite you turning down the guy in the end (he doesn’t know why, he wanted to ask) - even if he’s ready to scream, and cry, and ask you what it is he did for you to be so turned off by him, he still thinks you’re the most heavenly, divine person to ever grace his view. He wants to be where you see him, he wants to be in your orbit.

“You’re like the sun-“ He blurts out, immediately regretting it. He didn’t mean to say that, God, he’s so fucking stupid. He sees you stop walking, smiling that same stupid, dopey, lopsided smile that he’s always so jealous of-

Oh. It’s for him.

He chokes, stopping to meet you eye-to-eye. You look up at him too, laughing giddily.

“What does that mean?”

He sputters, stepping away. “N-no it’s nothing- It was stupid anyway so-“

“No, tell me!” You urge, laughing a little harder. “What if it was something bad, ‘nd you were making fun of me? That’s not nice, Rui!”

“I- Hey-“ His voice goes a touch higher, a defensive tone rising. “That’s not-“

“Then tell me.”

“It’s just,” he breaths, trying to word it in the least creepy way possible. How does convey the fact that he sees you as a divine presence, that he sees himself as a worthless creature compared to you, without sounding like he’s hopelessly possessed by love for you? “I just- you’re so amazing,” he starts, “I thought of this stupid thing the other day when I was walking home - you know how I am - and well, I just thought of you when the sun reflected off the pavement - since it rained, y’know? - and well, it just- Sorry, it was dumb-“ He rambles, covering his face in anguish.

Nobody’s ever put that much thought into you. Sure, you’ve received a few ‘You’re so gorgeous’’s, where you’ve had to wonder where they learnt such a “big word”, but never something as poetic as that. The usual Rui-ratic explanation endeared you to him even more. You look at him, the smile never leaving. He’s just… so Rui. His stupid striped sweater, his half up hair - that you’d begged him to grow out - his eyes, whatever. Everything about him you treasure, and little do you know he cherished you even that more intensely.

“I think you’re the moon, Rui. Or maybe the earth, since I take care of you, hah!” You snicker, stepping closer to him. He takes a step back in return, and you grab his hands to make him stay put. His heart throbs, and he almost goes crashing down.

“I.. I don’t-“

You yank his hands, making him look back up at you. “Hey, Rui, I,” you look at him assuringly, “I wanna say something, and you can’t laugh okay?”

He holds his breath, so do you.

Fuck it, just tell him.

“I think I’m in love with you, Rui.” You gaze at him, the words shooting out faster than you can second guess them.

“I don’t-“ He breaks away, his fists balling up. You messed up, you think, you really, really messed up. “I’m not- I’m not going to- You can’t just say that because you got rejected. I- It wouldn’t be nice to- You don’t love me-“

“Rui,” you beg, grabbing his arm again, “holding hands on the way to school, cuddling while doing homework, knowing everything about eachother, these aren’t-“ You breath, “I’ve wanted somebody to love me for so long, Rui, and I was so blind to the fact that I was loved. But the love that I felt for you, - that I feel for you - Rui, isn’t the kind where I can be- where I can just be so- so normal about those things!” You monologue, saying whatever’s on your mind. You’re the rambling one now.

“I found myself comparing you to these piece-of-garbage dude’s I’m always with, wishing I could just date somebody like you instead! But now I realize that it is you-“

His heart falls into his gut, and he breaks free from you again. His hands move to his face, covering his eyes. His voice is broken and cracky as he begins to cry. “That was- you-“ He pulls you into a desperate embrace, arms holding you like you’ll disappear. “You shouldn’t, you’re wrong.” He sobs, “I’m- the way I love you is- You don’t understand, the way I feel isn’t normal I- My love is disgusting, and horrible, and depraved-“ He shakes, you rub his back. “You are so perfect compared to me, I’d never be able to- I love you so much, more than friends are supposed to, more than anyone’s supposed to at our age-“

“Rui, hey Rui please don’t cry.�� You beg, smoothing out the ridges in his sweater. “I don’t- I don’t agree with that, and I can scream that at you, but I’m sure you won’t believe me. You’re not disgusting for feeling emotions different, Rui that’s what I love about you.”

“Stop- stop saying my name like that. It’s too hard to-“

“Rui, I love you. You don’t need to accept it, but I love you. More than being in love, more than being loved-“

“I love you, too,” his voice cracks, “that’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to ruin a friendship that’s all I have, if this is just- I’m scared I’d lose you in any way, and I can’t live in a world where you don’t see me. I won’t. It’s sounds horrible but-“ He stops as you pull away from the hug, and wipes his face hastily. You put your pinky out, and his stomach drops again.

“C’mon, just like when we were kids. Pinky promise that no matter what, we’ll always see each other. That way you don’t need to worry anymore, y’know? I never break my kissy pinky promises, ever.”

Just like when you two were little.

He locks his with yours, just like you taught him all those years ago. He remembers your shared handshake for theater, he remembers your shared handshake for testing, and he remembers the song you two had to duet for choir - when you have forced him into it for a year. He holds everything of you so dear to his heart, you endear everything about him to you as well.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I see you.”

“I see you, too.”

You two kiss your hands, then bring them down, still interlinked. You stare at him, and he stares back at you. In a moment of profound sincerity, you lean forward, and kiss him. It’s slow and gentle, and you unlock your hands half way through to hold his face, which he mirrors. His heart settles for the first time. You see him. He’s your moon, your earth, you’re his sun, his stars.

He’s suddenly alarmed by a quick pushing off of him, gasping out a “Rui!”

“I-“ he pants, wiping his mouth. “Hm?”

“we’re in the middle of a park!”

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