#it’s why I’m not even flinching about JJK

[jellie-the-aqua-puma]

So I was super late to the Ereri game and I know it's a controversial ship now. I know you used to ship it, and was wondering, is it something you dropped due to the controversy, or did you just fall out of love with it? No judgement either way, just stumbled across some of your old content and was curious :)

Hi! Thanks for asking, it’s always been controversial (cue eye roll) because of course what we ship is a reflection of what we are like as people—sike ;). But I fell out of love with it when I fell out of love with Attack on Titan which was pretty much around the Rumbling arc. The story was not making a lick of sense to me and I felt a huge disservice was being done to Eren’s character and that’s it haha. If AoT had ended differently, I would probably still be shipping them —or maybe not ;)— I have sooo many I WIPs that may never see the light of day if I can’t repurpose them!

I know you said you were late to the party, so if you ever want someone to talk to about them feel free to reach out even though it might make me sad :)

Thank you for asking!!

More thoughts under the cut!

I adored them with all my heart! I didn’t know about any of the controversy when I did, because a friend of mine liked Ereri and encouraged me to give AoT a chance. I had to look at a lot fo fanart and fanfiction before I fell in love with it, so by the time I learned, I was in too deep.

But you know, we don’t have to justify why we like what we like and Ereri has really helped me come to terms with that. It has also made become a lot more understanding of what other people ship!

(You know a lot of people who ship my current main, Soukoku (from Bungou), if they were also in the AoT fandom, they were Eruri shippers? The correlation is astounding, I always feel like an anomaly).

Sometimes you just like the way two people look and fit together, you like the way their personalities clash, you like the way their personalities don’t, or something else benign even if doesn’t make sense from a narrative standpoint. That’s ok! I really liked their fire / ice powerhouse personalities and I like that in other ships too!

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: yandere, captive reader, minor wounds, shackles, mental deterioration

♡ GN reader

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at you sheepishly from where he kneels before you, your feet in his lap as he carefully unclasps the second metal cuff from your ankle—leaving roughed skin in its wake, cut raw and swollen as badly as the other. “But, you know, I would have taken them off sooner if you’d been good.”

You don't answer him—not feeling like nodding and agreeing, though not exactly feeling up to doing the opposite anymore either. Tired of it, you remain quiet, and you look away instead—flinching and hissing as he carefully handles the wounds with disinfectant, balm, and bandages.

When he’s done, he rests his cheek on your knee—stroking his hands up and down your claves tenderly. “I really am sorry,” he repeats—voice soft and silken, nuzzling into you with big puppy eyes looking up at you. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

There’s a disturbance in your head—an indecision—toiling and swirling like a storm, making you sweat, almost shiver. Should you behave for once? Do what he wants and avoid another punishment—or do you still feel like fighting? Is your dignity worth it? Do you still wish to take the risk and run now that you’re unfettered and free to try again? Or would you like to finally give it up?

This is a test. You know it. No doubt.

He’ll surely catch you if you try. You know that, too. It’s been proven, and you’re not foolish enough to keep holding onto any such false thing as hope.

So then, why try?

Well, it’s a stupid question, and yet you find yourself contemplating it—whether you should try anyway, even when failure is guaranteed. You think, now that you're really thinking about it, the only thing keeping you going is sheer and hollow principle.

Yes, principle—one based on the understanding that if you try, even if you fail, you can at least say you tried—one where the simple thought of giving is detestable. Back then, even weighing the options was unthinkable. Do or die—no in-between, nothing more or less.

But that fire within feels faint now—a low flame just barely weathering the storm, all alone in the cold, in the dark, just waiting for a final gust to blow it out once and for all.

It's an ugly thought, but you think what you really want isn't to find the strength to keep fighting but for someone to say it's okay to stop. You just want a sanction—a blessing—someone to blow the candle out for you.

And acknowledging that, you might as well blow it out yourself.

If the point holds no value, then fighting for it must be even more empty—right?

You sigh.

“It’s not that bad." Lifting a hand, you run it smoothly through his tousled locks with a smile. “Actually, it already feels better.”

The worst or best part about it is how strangely freeing it is—now that you’ve let go. The trouble of remaining vigilant and hostile is an exhausting feat, and now that you’ve put it to rest, you’re left feeling unfettered—like you can finally breathe again.

He kisses your knee, then rests his chin atop it—giving you a similar smile. “I’m glad.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[ponderingmoonlight]

Stitching JJK men up or at least trying to

This gorgeous art is by @bogactivity! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting me use it as a cover 🤍

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Warnings: injury (lol), the boys being smooth operators hehe, not proofread I'm honestly glad I even managed to finish a fic with this hell of a week in my back, this is the first free afternoon I'm having y'all

Let me know if you want a Part ll of this! Since it took me forever to write and I spent my only free afternoon of this week to finish that for you guys, I'd be beyond thankful if you show a lil support to your girl 😭

Gojo Satoru

„C’mon man, you can’t be serious about that”, you mutter in sheer annoyance, eyes roaming up and down the blood-covered man in front of you.

He has some nerves, showing up at your doorstep with his reversed technique when there are probably hundreds of injured jujutsu sorcerers and normal human being out there crying for help. God, if it was the first time, if he wouldn’t be the strongest. But something inside you tells you he does this on purpose, something inside you just knows this isn’t a coincidence.

“I’m here to get stitched up”, he announces proudly, making his way into your home as if he’s inviting.

“Don’t bleed on my floor”, you warn him.

Is there a way out of this? You worked for 18 hours today, just returned home since Shoko took over for you. And now? Now he’s here – here to ruin your night.

“I won’t if you help me”, he hums with a sly grin plastered on his face.

A gaping hole in his chest, an injury that would have killed every other being if he wasn’t the strongest. Oh, you know damn well that he healed himself just enough to make it to your place. But even though you want to stand your ground and throw him out in a heartbeat, you simply sign to yourself and roll up your sleeves. After all, it is easier to get rid of him when you’re doing what he wants, right?

“Take that off”, you instruct him, nodding towards his uniform.

“You don’t have to ask me twice back.”

“Don’t call me that”, you mumble while watching as he exposes his firm chest.

Damn, sometimes you tend to forget how trained that man his. With his abs cooked in god’s kitchen and his body toned like a Greek statue, it’s hard to keep your face from blushing. Not even the fact that there’s a gaping hole in his chest can distract you from the stinging fact that Satoru Gojo is too damn hot.

“Enjoying the view, (y/n)?”

You shake yourself, avoiding eye contact as if your life depends on it. Fuck, he really caught you staring. That sleek bastard who thinks the world belongs to him, who is used to women and even men falling to his feet. Get this over before you lose the last bit of class you have left.

But the second you touch his bare skin something changes. No, it’s not you who gets flustered by his sheer presence, it’s not you who stumbles over their words. It’s Satoru Gojo, flinching back the slightest bit with the faintest blush creeping up his face.

Satoru Gojo.

Blushing.

“Are you…blushing?”

His bright blue orbs widen, cheeks getting redder and redder by every passing second. You can’t stop the grin that gets wider and wider, tilting your head to the side like he always does when he’s about to get on your nerves.

“What’s wrong, Satoru? Not used to getting touched by a woman?”

“None of them are you”, he presses out.

Fuck. Now it’s you who reddens in an instant, you who stares at him with wide eyes, your palms feeling sticky against his skin. How? How is it able that he sweeps you off your feet with a few words? Why does he have this power over you when you tell yourself over and over that you don’t care about him, that you are nothing but comrades?

Why does he have to be so…him?

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? Cat got your tongue?”

You close your eyes. Just a few seconds more, you’re almost finished. And after that you’ll throw him out, after that you’ll-

“Is it possible that maybe…you’re into me as well?”

“As well!?”, you repeat out of instinct.

“Come on, playing dumb doesn’t suit you. Don’t ya think I’d be able to heal myself?”

“I know you are.”

He tilts his head to the side just the way you hate it.

Hate? Out of instinct, you shake your head ever so slightly. No, you never felt hate when you touched his body, didn’t even feel hate when he smeared his blood all over your couch. No, this is something completely else. This is…

A crush?

“Leave right now”, you breathe out.

Nope, you simply can’t afford to have a crush on that man. With a swift motion, you push him to your door, don’t even give him the chance to fight against you. What a ridiculous idea, why would you even-

“I still need my uniform-“

You smack the door close behind him before breathlessly running up to his uniform and throwing it out of the window onto him.

“Don’t you dare to come here again!”

“Oh, I definitely will (y/n).”

Toji Fushiguro

“Come on (y/n)-“

“I hate that man and you know it”, you argue.

Not even the cigarette Shui Kong gave you will distract you from what he’s asking for. God, how much you hate that man. Toji Fushiguro, walking sex himself.

And the biggest asshole you’ve ever met on top.

“Well, technically it’s your job. But I’d hate to force you into this.”

He crosses his well-dressed legs, gaze meeting yours while puffing on his cigarette. Oh, how much you hate that he’s right. After all, he’s paying you a decent amount of money for saving those stupid men from certain dead.

“Where is he?”

You can’t believe your own ears, that you even consider helping that man after he dumped you. Toji has to suffer for the things he’s done, for leaving you standing in the rain after telling you over and over how fucking special you are to him. No, there’s absolutely no damn reason for you to throw your cigarette away, to follow after Shui.

“Took you quite some time to get here. Lucky for you I’m not that serious injured.”

That deep unpromising voice, that tone you know oh so well. The urge to turn on your heels and run away almost becomes unbearable. God, how stupid was it to even consider heling him? Fuck Shui, fuck your contract. You definitely won’t help him-

“Oh, it’s you.”

Fuck. You want to shoot yourself right on the spot, hide behind the door or get swallowed whole. But instead, that traitor Shui exposes you to Toji’s merciless eyes, shoves you into the tiny apartment before you’re able to protest.

“Absolutely not nice to see you again”, you mutter under your breath.

No, you don’t even dare to look at this force of a man, to give him that power over you ever again. Him with his damn gorgeous eyes, him with these mountains of muscles. Oh, you know damn well how fucking easy it is to fall for him.

“Can I get some help?”

You can’t resist. The urge to take a look at his wounds overpowers your strong will.

And you regret it immediately.

There he sits, shirtless, a bandage poorly wrapped around his enormous biceps while he tucked the end of it between his teeth. Fuck, when you only imagine where his mouth was, that he discovered your body with his mouth more than once.

You swallow hard.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to help. Now excuse me, I need to take that call.”

No, no, no. Your heart falls onto the ground immediately, eyes widen in sheer horror when Shui turns around and threatens to leave.

“You can’t leave me here alone with him”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“You’re a strong girl, aren’t you? You are the only one I trust in when it comes to him.”

And with that he’s gone, leaves you standing in the rain like a lost puppy.

“Don’t stand there and look after him when I’m here, princess.”

“Oh god, please just shut the fuck up”, you grumble.

Do you even have the chance to get out of this? You catch a glimpse of him and his toned body, blood running down his arm. When you’re already here, it wouldn’t be a crime to do your job.

And ask for a ton more money when Shui returns. 

Without saying another word, you sit down next to him. Putting on your gloves, taking a closer look at his wound.

“Got shot, hm?”

Clean, disinfect.

“Yeah.”

Take out your tweezers, search for the bullet.

“So, how you’ve been princess?”

“Don’t call me that”, you warn him.

“Aren’t ya at least a lil excited to see me?”

“Absolutely not”, you reply dryly, digging a little deeper than necessary into his wound.

What is that little part inside of you that makes your heart beat a little faster, lets your palms get sweaty? No, you are definitely not excited to see him again. How he broke your heart the last time, how he played you-

“I hoped he’d call ya. That’s why I let that fucker shoot me.”

Wait…What? Your eyes dart up in an instant, tweezers digging so roughly into his flesh that a groan escapes his delicious lips.

“You lie as always”, you breathe out.

“Bet I don’t.”

With a swift motion of his uninjured arm, he draws you closer, traps you against his broad chest.

“Missed ya”, he mumbles against your hair, takes in your delicious scent.

“You dumped me.”

“Dumped you? Would never do that.”

“You did”, you insist.

A little whimper escapes your lips when his hot breath brushes over your neck just the way you always loved it. Fuck, you’re here to do your job, to stitch that fucker up and leave. Why are you lying in his arms again, why is his arm wrapped around your waist so tightly that you can’t escape anymore?

“Imma show you how much I missed ya-“

“Toji”, you warn him half-heartedly.  

“I-I’m…Just here to do my job.”

“I have a better job for ya.”

Yuta Okkotsu

Gojo doesn’t have to tell you twice. The second you hear his name, hear that he’s injured, your feet sprint down the alleys of Jujutsu High on their own.

Yuta Okkotsu.

The boy who simply swept you off your feet the second you heard his voice. The boy who always stayed up with you until past midnight, watched how you trained your mind and hands to use reversed technique just like Shoko does.

“If I get hurt someday, I want you to take care of me.”

“No way, if you get injured I’ll send Shoko herself. I’m not good enough to help you”, you laughed.

“You are good enough in every way, (y/n).”

And now you’re here, lungs feeling as if they’ll burst any given minute, mouth tasting like fresh blood. You have to be on time. Please let you be on time.

“Gojo-sensei!”

Your voice sounds so strange in your own ears, filled with thick dread. Gojo didn’t even tell you what’s up, didn’t even tell you what exactly happened.

“Yuta is injured, hurry. I’ll send you the location.”

“Easy (y/n). Otherwise you’ll have to use reversed technique on-“

“Where is he?”, you breathe out.

The world around you begins to spin so violently that you feel like fainting for a minute. All you want to see is Yuta being fine, Yuta being only slightly injured. Where is he? Is he fine? Your mouth can’t keep up with the sheer speed of your thoughts anymore.

“Look who’s here to save ya, Yuta!”

Your glossy eyes shoot up, take in the sight in front of you. There he stands with a trail of blood running down his gorgeous face, his gaze locked with yours. He is injured, but alive. A few bruises here and there, but overall fine.

Yuta’s fine.

“(y/n)!”

Like in slow motion your feet start to move again just like his, running and running until you get greeted by his opened arms.

“I was so scared for a second. He told me you’re injured”, you breathe out.

“Oh, don’t worry about that too much. Just a few cuts and bruises and- OUCH, yeah, I think my ribs are broke.”

“Sit down, I’ll take care of this.”

You position your trembling hands on his body, eyes never leaving his sight. These last few hours were like a trip to hell and back.

“I’m sorry (y/n), but you know we aren’t allowed to fight.”

“But what about Yuta and the others? What if they need help?”, you insisted, not even Shoko’s hand placed on your shoulder able to calm down your pounding heart.

“They’ll call us as soon as it’s safe.”

“I didn’t even get the chance to tell him that…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, a wave of tears hunting you down without mercy. Oh, how much you’d give to see him again, to finally tell him how much he really means to you.

“You will, don’t worry about it.”

Shoko was right, after all. Yuta is here with you, the minor bruises on his body healing in an instant while he smiles gently at you.

“Look? I told you you’ll take good care of me”, he comments gently.

“I’m just glad you’re fine. What on earth happened here? Jujutsu High looks like a battlefield. And don’t get me started on Maki and Panda…”

Shivers run down your spine just by thinking of the state they were in when Shoko was called. Just the thought of Yuta still being out there, fighting whoever responsible for these severe injuries...

You swallow hard, hands shaking just like they did when realization hit you. Yuta could have died today. All of them could have died today.

“You’re here. That’s all that matters right now.”

Yuta doesn’t think twice. He intertwines his hand with yours ever so gently, his face radiating nothing but pure affection. Oh, how much these last hours showed him how much you really mean to him. Not a second passed in which he didn’t ponder about whenever you’re doing okay, if you’re safe here at Jujutsu High. And now you’re right where you belong: By his side.

“I love you, (y/n). I think I did all this time.”

Oh.

Your brain needs a few moments to comprehend the words he just said. Yuta…love…YOU?

Yuta loves you.

Yuta. “Finally!”, Gojo screams from afar.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @ @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Fanart used in the cover by @bogactivity - you NEED to check out their artwork!

[sowoozoo-7]

Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch 7 (JJK, KNJ)

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon

Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, explicit sexual content, threesome, oral sex (m + f receiving), protected penetrative sex (m + f receiving), slight dom!namjoon

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: she's heeeeere, took a long time bc smut is hard, y'all. all that's left is the epilogue. unbeta'd bc fck it we ball, enjoyyy 💜✨

mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6 | ch 7 | epilogue

“You’re leaving?”

Everyone pauses in a collective inhale, the moment suspended in time. 

Then, Namjoon flinches at the question, the world fast forwards back into action, and you remember that you’re in public, that this is a work dinner, and that you’re meeting peers in your industry. You swallow the burst of panic, and look over at Jungkook. He half-stands, as if he’s about to wrestle Namjoon to the ground and never let him leave. Guilt shadows Namjoon’s face as he looks at the two of you. 

None of you have done a good enough job of moderating your features because Jackson immediately backtracks. 

“Hey bro, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a secret. I shouldn’t have—“ 

“Don’t stress about it, man,” says Namjoon, turning to his friend with an easygoing smile, that diplomatic mask he wears in important meetings. You hate it. “I was going to announce it when we got back on Monday anyway.” 

You pull Jungkook back to sitting with a hand on his arm. He fiddles with the napkin on his lap before looking up at you, a lost look on his face that mirrors how you’re feeling on the inside. 

The reunion between Namjoon and Jackson doesn’t last much longer, the easy chat between the old college friends now strained. You reach for your drink as Namjoon wraps up the conversation, but your hand shakes too much when you pick it up. He’s your boss, just another face at the office, you try to tell yourself. The wine glass sits on the table, abandoned. 

As he says his final niceties, Namjoon stays facing towards Jackson, watching his retreating back for a long moment. He takes a deep breath and steels his shoulders before he turns back to the table. He tries to act nonchalant as he takes a sip of his wine. His hands don’t shake, and the stiff smile stays on his face. 

“So.” Jungkook breaks the silence that hangs heavy over your group. “You’re leaving.” 

The accusation sits at the table, a fourth dinner companion making everyone ill at ease.

Namjoon nods in response. Jungkook purses his lips and worries his lip ring, waiting for an actual answer. Namjoon’s eyes flit to your face, but you keep quiet. Silence has as much power as any question to get answers. He knows this; he taught you. 

“Remember the songwriter we represented?” 

The sudden change of topic throws you for a loop. “What does this have to do with her?” 

Namjoon twirls his wineglass between his fingers. “She wanted new in-house counsel, and reached out last month. She was really pleased with how the firm handled her case.” 

“How I  handled her case,” you say sharply. 

It stings that she didn’t reach out to you first. Of course she reached out to Namjoon first, though; she melted at the merest hint of Namjoon’s dimple during your initial meeting. Maybe you’re pissed that you melted at the merest hint of a dimple. And now here’s the owner of the dimple, deserting you. Or at least, that’s what it feels like. You don’t want to acknowledge that you’re not even a blip on his radar in his decision-making process because at the end of the day, you’re just a junior employee in the firm. 

He tilts his head in acknowledgement, and your temper deflates as quickly as it ignited. You brush the interjection out of the air with your hands and go back to the matter at hand. 

“I thought you loved your job at Bang and Associates.”

You hate that your voice cracks a bit while you speak. 

“Your friend was right, you were about to make partner. Why now?”

Jungkook’s voice sounds so much stronger than yours, and you hate him a little for that too. 

“Personal reasons.” 

You and Jungkook scoff in unison. Not a good enough answer. 

“It’s a lot of things.” Namjoon studies the glass in his hands while he considers his answer. “The long hours are a big part of it. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve been feeling more like a robot than a person these days. I was ready to say no when her team reached out, but after I slept on it, I realized, I have no life outside the firm. Weekends are nonexistent. Everything is a fire that needs put out, ASAP. This will be a good change.” 

The tension drains from the conversation. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen your boss. To fault him for this reasoning, for being human, would be childish and petty.

Namjoon reaches for the wine and helps himself to a generous pour.

“You know, she asked about you, Jungkook.” You can tell he’s just trying to change the subject, bring the conversation back to something more light-hearted, but the sudden turn leaves you off-kilter again. 

“Who?”

“The singer. She wanted your number for, ah… personal reasons. I had to tell her you were otherwise engaged.” 

Namjoon’s gaze flicks to yours briefly, and you can’t stop a flush creeping up your cheeks. 

“Yeah.” Jungkook’s hand makes its way back to your thigh and you place your hand on his. “I am.” 

Namjoon clocks this movement and clears his throat. 

“How did this all start anyway? Usually, you can tell when people in the office are about to get together, but it took a lot of us by surprise.” 

You make a face. “I didn’t realize we were such a hot topic of conversation.” 

“Everyone talks,” he says with a shrug. 

You and Jungkook exchange a look. Tonight’s revelation has sent everything into a tailspin. What’s one more to the mix? Jungkook shrugs at your unasked question.

“Mutual pining,” you say, turning back to Namjoon. 

He raises an eyebrow. “For each other?” 

“For you,” says Jungkook. 

Namjoon chokes on his wine. 

It’s a relief to finally say it out loud. To admit it. Your hand tightens on Jungkook’s while you wait for Namjoon to recover. 

“Me?” 

“During the Christmas party. We got to talking, and… ” Jungkook looks at you for reassurance, and you squeeze his hand. “Turns out we were both head over heels for you.” 

“Wait… were?” 

Each new turn in this conversation feels like another landmine being triggered, blasting you into the unknown. 

“Are,” you say. “Present tense.” 

Jungkook lets out a sharp breath. “Yeah. Still are.”

Namjoon doesn’t meet either of your gazes across the table, eyes focused on the bottle of wine in the middle of the table instead. You bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything else. All your cards are on the table. 

Namjoon runs a hand over his face before speaking. “You’re only saying this because I’m leaving.” 

“You’re only asking because you’re leaving,” you retort. 

“Look, we’re all chicken-shits when it comes to this, okay?” says Jungkook, putting a placating hand down on the table. “But we’ve said our part. We both like you, a lot. And we’re hoping you like both of us, too. Together.” 

Namjoon looks like words are stuck in his throat. 

After a long moment, you scoff, shaking your head. “Yoongi was right, then, when he said—“ 

“Yoongi says a lot of things.” 

“Was he pulling it out of his ass, hmm? When he said you were too hung up on doing the right thing instead of going for what you want?” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret them. A muscle tics in Namjoon’s cheek as he clenches his jaw.

“Fuck. Sorry, I —“

Before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook pulls you up to standing. 

“We’re gonna go get the check. And we’ll wait for you at the hotel. Take your time.” 

You glance back once as Jungkook leads you through the restaurant. Namjoon slumps in his chair, staring out over the city. 

Your footsteps echo in the hotel room as you pace. The TV makes a tinny attempt to fill the hollow emptiness with the sounds of a syndicated sitcom. You stop every so often at the window to look out at the buildings disappearing into the low clouds tinged yellow by the city lights.

By the second episode of the sitcom, you’ve exhausted your patience for canned laughter and stilted acting. You flop on the couch next to Jungkook and flip through the channels, trying to find something, anything, to distract you. Every channel is celebrating Valentie’s Day by playing sappy romcoms. The swelling string music and moon-eyed pretty people annoy you even more than the canned laughter, and you turn the TV off in frustration.

Jungkook has his phone out, swiping aimlessly on TikTok and you join him in pretending to watch as the memes go by.

“Did I go too far? At the restaurant?”

“I don’t know.” 

You sit on the couch for what seems like hours before the door lock beeps open. 

You’re on your feet before you can think, Jungkook beside you. It’s out of a scene in one of those stupid romantic movies, how the door swings open in slow motion and Namjoon appears, bringing a chill in with him. 

“Oh, hi,” he says when he sees the both of you looking at him like spooked deer. His cheeks are red with either cold or embarrassment. “Um, I thought about it on the way here, and I’m in.” 

Your heart jumps into your throat, but you don’t let yourself process the words because he’s started to shiver. His shoulders are damp and droplets of water cling to his hair. 

“Did you walk here in the rain?” 

He runs his hand through his hair. Strands clump together where he runs his hand through. 

“Snowing.” 

You turn to the window. Flurries dance in the air, blurring the cityscape, softening the harsh lights from the buildings nearby. 

“I’ll get you a towel.” 

When you return from the bathroom, Jungkook has already taken the wet suit jacket and is in the process of draping it over a chair. Namjoon stands sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You hand him the towel, wanting to run it through his hair, but not having the courage to reach up and do so. 

His cheeks stay red once he’s done rubbing his hair dry. You’re flushed too, because now you’ve had time to actually process what he said when he came in. Should you bring it up now? 

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and exhales harshly through his nose instead. Jungkook worries his lip piercing and picks at the skin around his nails. You stand between them, heart pounding in your chest. You’re all standing at the precipice but you don’t know how to take the leap.

Namjoon clears his throat before speaking. 

“Um, I don’t know if you heard before but—“ he clears his throat again “—I’m in. For whatever this is.” 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and you can’t bring yourself to produce words. Jungkook looks equally shell-shocked.

The moment drags on in silence.

“I’m trying to be brave but neither of you are saying anything?” The words should sound harsh, but you’ve never heard Namjoon sound so unsure, so small. 

“Now that we’re here, I…” You wish you sounded more confident. 

“Here,” Jungkook says as he reaches out to take Namjoon’s hand. Namjoon looks down at his hand as if he’s never seen it before. You follow suit, and Namjoon looks at you with a fragile hope that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. 

“Don’t overthink it,” says Jungkook. He’s talking to Namjoon, but you try to take the words to heart, too. 

“I don’t think I know how to do that.” 

He rests his chin on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Just be here,” he says. “Take it one step at a time.” 

“How?” 

“Start like this.” 

Jungkook guides Namjoon’s hand to his cheek, and leans into it, closing his eyes. 

“What’s next?” asks Jungkook, voice gentle. 

Namjoon’s thumb runs over his lips. Jungkook lets out a shuddery exhale. The tension in his body shows he’s holding back, letting Namjoon move at his own pace, as if Namjoon were a rare and skittish animal. 

“And then?” 

Namjoon rests his forehead against Jungkook’s and slowly, inevitably, their lips connect. It’s chaste, just a press of lips against lips, but Jungkook melts into it, letting out the tiniest little whimper.

It’s something so intimate, you falter back a step, your hold on Namjoon’s hand going slack. But before you can pull away, Namjoon’s grip tightens and tugs you in closer. He turns to look at you, the expression on his face tender, and scared. His hand comes to stroke your cheek too, and it makes you want to cry, how delicately he’s handling you. 

It takes just a second, but feels like an eternity for him to press his lips to yours, for you to rise onto your toes to meet him halfway. You feel again like you’re on the edge of something, like any second, everything is about to change. You don’t know what you expected, but what you get is the softest lips, plush against yours. Gentle, chaste. A fairytale ending kiss that teases what’s to come. 

As Namjoon opens his lips against yours, you’re dizzy with the realization that you’ve been over the precipice, already falling headlong into the unknown, the first step taken hours, days, maybe even weeks ago. 

He turns to Jungkook and kisses him again, deeper. Jungkook whines as Namjoon bites his lower lip. Then he turns to you, and you taste Jungkook on Namjoon’s lips. And with a sigh of relief, everything clicks into place. There was a missing piece in your life and it was this, you and Namjoon and Jungkook, together.  

“What’s next?” asks Namjoon, eyes closed as he speaks into the disappearing space between the three of you. 

You tug and are tugged to the couch where Jungkook pushes Namjoon to sit. Jungkook sits on one side and you sit on the other, bringing his face towards you and you kiss him once, twice, then run your lips up his jawline and down his neck, inhaling the scent of him, musky and heady. Jungkook turns Namjoon’s head and kisses him like he wants to devour him whole. 

Namjoon’s shirt collar gets in the way of your quest to discover the spot that makes him squirm, and you unbutton the first couple of buttons of his shirt to get access. He hisses when you nip at the spot just where his neck meets his shoulder. 

You spend some time in your new favorite place, tasting and teasing with tongue and teeth, but the new inches of golden skin aren’t enough. You straddle one of Namjoon’s spread legs and work on unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. Jungkook looks on as work your way down. His hand comes to rest on Namjoon’s upper thigh, fingers tracing light circles. You pull out the tucked-in ends of the shirt and let it fall open. 

“Wow.” 

The word sighs out from your lips as you sit back to look. Because Namjoon Kim is magnificent, skin glowing golden in the lamplight. Jungkook's muscles are more defined, but there's power underneath his skin. Everything you see makes you want to take a bite. 

Your gaze works its way up to his face, and the look in his eyes sends a shiver of want straight to the heat between your legs. 

Jungkook smirks at your reaction. “Never gets old.” 

“You’ve been keeping this to yourself,” you say, accusingly. 

Namjoon rumbles out a chuckle as Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m selfish. But it’s nice, right?” Jungkook says into Namjoon’s neck, where he starts on sucking a mark into the exposed skin. Namjoon's eyes close and he leans into the sensation.

More than nice, you think, letting your fingertips graze over Namjoon’s stomach. His muscles jump at your touch, eyes flying open.

“Ah, your hands are cold,” 

“They’ll warm up eventually,” Jungkook answers on your behalf. 

Your hands wander up, landing on his pecs. Namjoon grunts when you give them a squeeze. You bite your lip to suppress a giggle. They’re as good as you imagined, firm and warm under your touch. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” 

The nickname uttered in his husky voice makes your core clench. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for along time,” you say, giving them another squeeze. 

“And I’ve been wanting to do this.” 

Namjoon’s hand comes to the curve of your ass and he squeezes, bringing you closer, guiding your hips to grind down. God, his thighs. You bite back a moan. 

He turns to Jungkook and puts a hand on his waist. 

“And this.”

He kisses Jungkook’s neck as he palms the front of Jungkook’s straining pants. Jungkook’s eyes shut and he exhales out a groan.

You almost can’t believe it. Being here, with the two of them like this. 

Namjoon’s hands press down on your hips, and you roll your hips down again, the feeling of his muscles between your legs making you slick. But, as much as you want to get lost in the sensation and get yourself off on Namjoon’s thighs, you have much more pressing matters at hand. 

You start at his collarbones, kissing your way down his chest, grazing his nipples with your teeth. He hisses at the contact, and you do it again just to feel him squirming beneath you. You clamber off the couch and settle between his spread legs, kissing all the way down until you reach the waistband of his pants. They’re both looking at you, waiting to see what you’ll do next. You bite your lip in anticipation as you unbutton and unzip his pants. 

His cock springs free when you take both his pants and boxers off, the tip dark, ready. You take him in your hands, and the weight of him, how he could feel inside you, makes your mouth water. 

He’s holding his breath as you lean down. You meet his eyes as you wrap your lips around the head. He lets out a shuddery breath as your tongue comes out to tease the tip. 

“Fuck.” 

Both mean speak in unison. You press open-mouthed kisses against the shaft as you work your way down to the base, then lick a stripe up to the top. Jungkook meets you at the tip, capturing your mouth, licking into you, then onto Namjoon. 

He lowers his head onto Namjoon’s cock, and as he comes back up, you switch places, and take turns taking him deeper and deeper each time. Namjoon’s fingers twine through your hair, his other hand tangled in Jungkook’s wavy locks, setting the pace. His head falls back against the back of the couch. 

The tip meets the back of your throat, and Namjoon’s hips twitch up into you.

“Shit, baby.” 

His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you pull off with a pop. Jungkook, never one to be outdone, sinks all the way down, nose pressed against Namjoon’s abdomen. You can see the moment he swallows. 

“Fuck. Wait, wait. Stop.” 

Namjoon pulls him off and covers his face with his hands. You sit back on your heels. Jungkook wipes his mouth as he exchanges looks with you. Did you do something wrong? Is he rethinking his decision? You don’t know what you’ll do if he changes his mind and doesn’t want to do this after all. 

You wait for a long moment, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly. 

“Sorry, it’s just… it’s too soon.” The sound comes muffled from behind his hands. “I don’t wanna come yet.” 

Oh. You and Jungkook breathe sag in relief, the uncertainty draining from your body.  

You stand and pull Namjoon's hands from his face and smooth his hair back. 

“Don’t apologize.” One hands comes to rest against his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. He looks overwhelmed and a little embarrassed. “We can take it slow.” 

You’re close enough that your breath intermingles, and you watch as the embarrassment and worry on his face melt into incredulity and then into desire. He bridges the gap between you and leans up to kiss you. At first, it’s just a press of the lips, but you deepen the kiss, open mouthed, tongue tangling with his. He nips at your bottom lip and tugs a moan from you. His hands graze down your back and come to rest on your waist, hands bunching in the fabric. 

“Why am I the only one naked?” he mutters under his breath. 

Your hands fly to the back of your dress, but Namjoon stops you. He stands, and pulls you up with him. He turns to Jungkook, who has been sitting on his heels, watching, and points to the couch. 

“Sit.” 

Jungkook hoists himself up and goes to take his shirt off, but Namjoon shakes his head.

“Just wait.” 

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow and puts his hands up in surrender. He sits on the edge of the couch, leaning forward on his elbows, eyes never leaving Namjoon. 

He turns you to face Jungkook and stands behind you. With gentle hands, Namjoon finds the zipper of your dress and at a torturous pace, drags it down. A shiver runs down your spine as he brushes the dress off your shoulders. It pools around your ankles, leaving you in your bra and panties. He sweeps your hair to one side and presses his lips to your pulse point. The touch and the cool air send goosebumps across your skin. 

Namjoon’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you tighter to him as he works a mark into your neck. You don’t know what to focus on, the feel of his lips on your neck, his cock pressed against your lower back, or the tips of his thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts. Jungkook sits back on the couch, palming his erection over his jeans, gaze heavy on you. You know the look on his face, the patient hunger. The intense focus of it grows the heat pooling in your belly.

It’s almost a relief when Namjoon’s hands slip behind your back and take your bra off. He cups your breasts, and you arch into the warmth of his hands. He hums into your skin and you moan when he takes your nipples between his fingers, teasing them. 

Your hand comes between your legs, pressing your fingers into the soaked fabric of your underwear. A whimper escapes through your lips at the stimulation.

Jungkook comes off the couch to kneel at your feet. He peels your underwear off you but before he can bury his nose between your legs, Namjoon’s voice stops him. 

“I said, wait.” 

Jungkook sits back on his feet with a little huff. Frustration plays across his face, but even so his pupils dilate as he looks up at Namjoon.

“Stand up.”

Cold air hits your body as Namjoon comes to stand in front of Jungkook. He makes quick work of Jungkook’s clothes, no lingering touches or caresses as he works buttons and zippers. Impatience doesn’t get rewarded. 

Jungkook’s clothes join yours on the ground and Namjoon points to the nearest bedroom. Yours. 

You spare a brief thought for the state of your bedroom — sometimes your clothes like to explode out of their suitcase through no fault of your own — but it’s pristine. You send a silent word of thanks up for daily hotel housekeeping. 

“On the bed, both of you.”

It would be awkward to crawl on the bed fully naked were the anticipation of what’s to come not thrumming through your skin. You sit up against the headboard, Jungkook next to you, legs outstretched. 

Namjoon gets on the bed and hovers over you to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth. Your hips jerk as he brings his hand between your legs and drags his knuckles over your slick folds. He doesn’t linger. 

“Tease.” 

He winks at you — which, somehow, makes you blush instead of rolling your eyes — as he leans over Jungkook and pulls him up by the chin. The kiss is all tongues and gasped breaths. 

Namjoon pulls away, leaving Jungkook to fall back against the headboard, dazed. He kneels and wastes no time in putting Jungkook’s cock in his mouth, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s. He groans and reaches for Namjoon’s hair. 

“Hands off,” says Namjoon around a mouthful of cock. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook’s hands twist into the duvet as Namjoon dives back down. 

The sight of the two of them, Jungkook’s muscles straining as he keeps his hands to himself, Namjoon taking Jungkook until his nose reaches his abdomen, has you pressing your legs together. You reach between your legs, desperate for any type of relief, but Namjoon stops you with a look. 

Hands off for you, too. 

You reach out a tentative hand toward Jungkook, and Namjoon sees, but doesn’t say anything. Tacit permission given, you spread your hand on Jungkook’s hip. He twitches at the contact, but doesn’t move. 

You brush his hair back from his forehead with your other hand. “Staying so still. Such a good boy.”��

He whines at the praise. “Ah fuck. Why does that fucking work for me?”

“Is this all you ever wanted?” you whisper in his ear. “Namjoon taking you so well.” 

“God, yeah.” 

Namjoon hums around his cock and you swallow the moan that rises from Jungkook's throat, kissing his pretty lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth. 

It’s not long until he leans back. 

“I’m gonna come,” he says with a gasp. You can feel his muscles tensing under your grip. 

“Tell him that.” 

“Fuck! I’m coming!” 

Namjoon somehow smirks around a mouthful of cock and swallows to take Jungkook even deeper. Jungkook’s head presses back into the mattress as he comes with a groan down Namjoon’s throat. 

Then, Namjoon pops off Jungkook’s cock and opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue to show he swallowed every last drop. You and Jungkook take twin gasps of breath. Fresh arousal pools between your legs. Not even in your wildest fantasies late at night alone in your room had you let yourself imagine that. 

“Fuck. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” says Jungkook, letting his head drop back down onto the pillows. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, Namjoon’s hand lingering on his softening cock. 

“Mmm,” says Namjoon, crawling up the bed to kiss the underside of Jungkook’s chin, as if he hadn’t just blown your minds. Jungkook pulls Namjoon in by the back of his neck for an open-mouthed kiss. 

You squirm a little, pressing your thighs together, and Namjoon notices.

“You’ve been patient.” He bites his lip before he says, “Good girl.” 

“Fuck. Why does that work for me?” you wail.

Jungkook laughs, as he lays back, spent. “Can dish it out but can’t take it.” 

You go to smack his arm, but he catches your hand and twines his fingers with yours. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand before releasing it. 

You look back at Namjoon. 

“Well, do I get a treat for being a good girl?” 

You let your legs fall open. Namjoon’s eyes follow your hands as you trace your curves down to the apex of your thighs.

“Is she always like this?” Namjoon asks, addressing Jungkook but looking at your fingers not quite touching where you want to be touched the most. Heat creeps up your cheeks as Namjoon’s gaze travels up your body to meet your eyes. You bite your lip. Namjoon’s gaze is intense on the best of days, but tonight, it burns. 

“She behaves. Most of the time.” 

“See?” you say with a coy smile, through burning cheeks. “I’m a good girl.”

Namjoon leans over you, getting close but not close enough for your lips to make contact. 

“What if I don’t want you to be a good girl?” His lips brush over yours as he speaks. Heat shoots to your core. 

“I can be whatever you want me to be.” 

He breathes out a chuckle and presses a kiss to where your jaw meets your ear, and works his way down your neck, dropping a kiss on the tender spot he worked at earlier. 

Where he was quick with Jungkook, he teases you, stopping at your breasts to take one nipple into his mouth. You arch up into his mouth at the contact, and he brings a hand to your waist to stop you from moving. 

His big hands are gentle, but you want them to bruise. 

Jungkook lays to the side and just watches at first, eyes glassy post-orgasm. As Namjoon continues down your body, Jungkook has you sit up a bit as he slides in behind you, bringing you to rest back down on him. He wraps an arm around your waist, and the other sinks into your hair, guiding your head to the side to work on marking the other side of your neck. 

You’re dripping by the time Namjoon gets to your cunt. He runs a finger through your slick, and you shiver at the contact, hands twisting into the sheets. His eyes close as he tastes.

“Sweet,” he says, almost to himself. 

He slowly settles between your legs, placing one above his shoulder, then the other. He drags it out, kissing your inner thighs as he makes his way closer and closer to your center. 

You cry out when he finally licks a stripe up your slit. When he wraps his lips around your clit, you let out a strangled sob. He hums in satisfaction as you squirm at the contact. You’re so keyed up that the vibration has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s much too fast, but not enough at the same time. You move your hips against his face, but he places a hand on your hip. 

“You’re gonna stay still, like a good girl?” Jungkook whispers in your ear. 

“Yes. Fuck.”

Your promise is hard to keep as Namjoon slips a finger into you. It takes every ounce of willpower to not clamp your legs around him.

“Damn, baby. So tight.” 

His voice against you, deep and rumbling, makes you clench even tighter around his finger. He adds another finger, working you open, mouth on your clit, tongue teasing with every thrust. 

Jungkook takes your breast in his hand and teases the nipple between his fingers, keeps breathing obscenities in your ear when his mouth isn’t on your skin. Your orgasm builds with every thrust of Namjoon’s fingers, with every dirty word Jungkook whispers in your ears. 

You whine as Namjoon adds a third finger and presses insistently against your sweet spot. Your gasping breaths and the lewd sound of his fingers moving in and out of you fill the room. 

“You’re gonna be a good girl, and come for us?” Jungkook breathes against your ear. 

You nod, head pressed against Jungkook's, and whine out a yes.

Namjoon sucks against your clit and you can’t hold still anymore. Your hands come to his hair and you hold him in place as you fuck your self against his face. He hums against you in amusement and that pushes you over the edge. Pleasure ripples over you in waves, core clenching, Namjoon’s name on your lips. His fingers fuck you through your orgasm, mouth never letting go of your clit. It’s not until your hands push him off you that his fingers slip from your cunt. 

Your heart thuds in your chest as Namjoon slips out from under your legs and you come back down to Earth. You miss the warmth of him between your legs already, even though you’re so sensitive you might cry at another touch.  

He climbs up on the bed, kneeling into the bed between your thighs. You almost come again when he puts his slick-soaked fingers between Jungkook’s lips. It’s sinful, the way Jungkook takes his time licking one finger clean, then the other. 

Namjoon replaces his fingers with his tongue. Jungkook’s moans reverberate against your back. You press up towards them, joining in a mess of tongues, skin on skin, breaths heavy. Hands and lips wander, discovering sensitive areas, staking claim on curves and hollows. 

Jungkook is hard again against your back, and Namjoon’s stiff cock pokes into your stomach. Their movement makes his thigh graze against your still-sensitive core. You gasp at the first contact, still sensitive, but your skin cries out for more. Fingernails press into his waist as you pull him closer to grind against his thigh. He grunts in surprise at the movement, but meets you thrust for thrust. You’re on the verge of crying from how sensitive you are but still you want more. 

“Needy,” says Jungkook between open mouthed kisses. 

“Shut it,” you whine. 

Namjoon breathes a chuckle before kissing Jungkook once more. He grinds down into you until you see stars, then sits back on his heels. Cold air sweeps across your skin, and behind you, Jungkook lets out a whimper in protest. You pout at the distance. 

“How do you want this?” His eyes search yours, then Jungkook’s, hesitant hope written out across his features. 

You sit up, still nestled between Jungkook’s legs. 

Jungkook speaks first, propped up on his elbows behind you. “It’s not about what we want. Not tonight.” 

“Yeah.” You nod, looking at Namjoon as he kneels before you. “How do you want us?”

His face scrunches as he battles with himself, and you wait. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on your shoulder, and his thumbs caresses your hip, a mindless habit he’s picked up. You both wait as Namjoon bites his bottom lip, deliberating asking for what he really wants. 

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, cheeks flaming bright red as he speaks. 

“I want Jungkook to fuck me, while I fuck you.” 

A new wave of arousal flows through you as you let out a shuddery breath.

“Fuck.” Jungkook shifts behind you on the bed. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. One sec.” 

He slips out from behind you and clambers off the bed, nearly sprinting out of the room. 

Namjoon slumps down on the bed beside you, face up, as if his request took too much out of him. You reach down to stroke his cheek. He’s flushed, chest rising and falling. His hand covers yours, fingers warm, strong as they link with yours. 

“You all good?” you ask. 

“Yeah, just overwhelmed.” He places your hand over his heart and you can feel it beating strong, fast. “Overwhelmed but good. I didn’t think this where we would end up tonight.” 

“None of us did, but I think we all hoped.” 

Jungkook bounds back into the room and drops a box of condoms and a travel-size bottle of lube on the bed. 

“Supplies!” he says as he bounces back onto the bed, the impact jostling you and Namjoon.

You all laugh at his excitement and you reach across Namjoon to pull Jungkook into a sweet kiss. 

“Always so optimistic,” you say with a smile. 

“Always prepared, that’s all.” He gives you your favorite smile, all scrunched up in happiness and you can’t resist pulling him in for another kiss. Namjoon props himself up on his elbows and joins in. Lips wander, hands caress, and you all get distracted for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of each other finally in this place, together.

Then, Jungkook pulls away and asks, “Um… how do we…”

“Here,” you say, laying on your back and pulling Namjoon on top of you, ass up. The weight of him on you is satisfying, like the world’s best weighted blanket. He props himself up on his elbows, one on each side of your head. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hey,” you respond. 

Jungkook kneels and rubs his hands on Namjoon’s back, massaging his spine as he kisses his way down to his lower back. Namjoon closes his eyes and hums at the sensation. You reach up and stroke his cheek. Jungkook kneads Namjoon’s cheeks, spreading them, about to start. 

He hesitates. “Is this the first time you…” 

“No, but it’s been a while.” Namjoon inhales sharply as the first drops of lube hit his ass. “Why is it always cold, though?” 

Jungkook’s hands spread the lube around, warming the area, teasing Namjoon’s rim. It’s like you can feel Jungkook’s hands on you, as Namjoon closes his eyes to the sensation, body moving naturally against the other man. He buries his face into your neck and the noises he’s making send you breathing heavy, too.

Your hand comes to the back of his neck, nails lightly scratching against his short hair. 

Jungkook works a finger in, slowly, gently. Namjoon tenses at the intrusion, but then relaxes against you with a moan. 

“Good?” asks Jungkook, rubbing small circles into Namjoon’s back.  

“Fuck. Yeah, good. Good.”

Jungkook drops a kiss to Namjoon’s back, and pushes slowly in and out to get him used to the feeling. You pull Namjoon into a kiss, exploring his mouth with all the languid movements of Jungkook behind him. 

 “You can add another.” 

And Jungkook, patient, the most patient you’ve ever seen him, works another finger into Namjoon’s hole, working him open. 

“Shit. You’re so tight.” 

Namjoon lifts his head and you see the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. Namjoon looking five different kinds of fucked out, pupils blown, pleasure the only thing on his face. You prop one of your knees up and his cock slips between your legs, teasing your entrance. As he fucks himself back onto Jungkook’s fingers, you move against him, craving the friction, more, more. 

“I think I’m ready,” says Namjoon. 

Foil packets get ripped open, condoms put on, and logistically, the first position you’re in doesn’t work out. Namjoon lines himself up with your entrance and Jungkook tries to position himself behind Namjoon, but the angle is all wrong. You’re ready to give it a go anyway, desperate as you are, but Namjoon holds back before you get any further. 

“Maybe this doesn’t actually work outside of… you know…” Namjoon says with a wave of his hand. 

“Wait, it does,” says Jungkook. “Let’s try it like this…” 

He arranges the three of you, with you on your side and Namjoon spooning you from behind. Jungkook settles in behind Namjoon and tells you to move your leg up just a little bit and— 

Your breath hitches as Namjoon’s cock slips through your folds and brushes up against your clit. You can’t see what Jungkook is doing, but him and Namjoon let out a groan at the same time. 

“Yeah,” says Namjoon breathlessly, “yeah, I think this is it.”

“Fuck.” 

“Ready?” 

Namjoon guides his cock into your entrance and you moan as you feel him enter you for the first time, thick and long. He pushes in slowly, so you can feel every inch of him moving through you. You take a deep breath as he bottoms out, getting used to the stretch. His bottom arm wraps around you, hand splayed out on your collarbone, anchoring you to this moment, as if you are his tether to Earth. In this position, you can feel every movement behind you, as Jungkook enters Namjoon. Namjoon’s cock twitches inside you in response, and he groans in your ear. 

Jungkook sets the pace, thrusting slowly. The movement is stilted at first, but then they find a rhythm, and you meet them, hips swiveling onto Namjoon every time he thrusts forward.

A chorus of moans and obscenities fill the room as each person chases their own high. The rhythm falters but Namjoon takes over, easier now, as he fucks into you then himself back onto Jungkook.

You crane your head to look back at Jungkook. His eyebrows meet in concentration, and he bites his lip as he rolls his hips to meet Namjoon's ass.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he grunts.

Namjoon picks up the pace as he pounds into you, hips snapping against you, and all you can do is take it, hands braced against the mattress. He brings his hand between your legs, circling your clit in insistent circles. Your legs start to shake.

"Come on, baby," he breathes in your ear, and you cry out. You're coming undone again, tight around him, and all you hear is his groan as you pulse around him.

He fucks you though your orgasm, grunting as he tries to hold back, but he follows soon after, spilling into the condom with a cry. Jungkook’s right behind him, breathing expletives as he comes.

The moment pauses, suspended as the three of you try to catch your breath. No one speaks for a long while, and you realize this could be it. You can't see their faces and right now, really, this could be the end of it. You shake your head to clear the thought before tears can threaten to prick at your eyes.

“We should do that again sometime.” It's a weak joke to ease the tension, but you don't want this moment to flit away.

Your whole body shakes as Namjoon and Jungkook laugh behind you. Namjoon squeezes you closer, tight enough to push your breath from your lungs for a brief second, and then he loosens his hold. His cock slips out from you as you twist in his arms and the human knot you’ve become comes undone. Namjoon lays on his back, Jungkook sprawled next to him. You drape yourself across Namjoon to reach out to Jungkook, and he squeezes your hand when you finally reach him. 

Your heartbeat synchronizes to Namjoon's as you lay on his chest. The pounding beat slows as the second pass, and his hand comes to rest on your waist.

Once you're fully back to reality, you become more and more aware of the state of your bed. The room smells like sex and you're sticky with sweat and slick. You push up to get out of bed and Namjoon follows. He swings his legs over the edge to sitting and catches you by the waist before you can go any further. You turn to look at him. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere. Bathroom.”

His eyes flick down to your body, and you feel suddenly self-conscious. Your hands come up to cover your chest, but he catches them before they make it.

"Don't."

He holds your hands between you, and looks at you with a warm smile. You lean down to kiss him. It's a bit thrilling, even after, for this to be normal. That he'll kiss you back now with no hesitation. You're not used to the casual contact, and it's going to take a long time to get accustomed to it.

You kiss him again. Practice makes perfect.

A sigh from behind Namjoon distracts you, and you both turn toward the sound. Jungkook looks at the pair of you with a soft wistfulness in his eyes, a goofy smile spreading over his features. You've seen this before. If he stays on his back much longer, he'll fall asleep.

“Come on, let's clean up." You reach over to tug him up. "Shower's massive in this bathroom."

A/N 2: eeeek we're almost at the end!! i'd love to hear what you think!!

©sowoozoo-7 2024

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 6 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mutual pining, SLOW BURN, mentions of smoking and other questionable decisions

words: 9.8k (🤐)

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 6 ► the fighting that i keep inviting could lead me to my grave

Two 4 AM trains in the span of 48 hours were more than you or Jungkook could handle, so both of you slept through nearly the entire nine-hour ride from Paris to Berlin. You only woke up for the transfer in Mannheim, but barely—hunger carried you both to the train station where you could buy warm pastries before going back to sleep.

By the time the two of you rejoined the band, you felt exhausted and disoriented. Although you didn’t regret the detour to Paris, you still struggled to imagine how Jungkook was going to manage to perform a show in Berlin tonight. You hoped the exhaustion from the trip would numb him down to just the right level of insanity that he’d be able to pull it off.

In any case, you sent him to get some sleep for a few hours before Rated Riot’s soundcheck, while you went to check up on the crew that you’d left unsupervised while you were in Paris.

Unsurprisingly, everything was under control: Seokjin kept a tight grip on the stage management crew—you probably wouldn’t have believed it if you hadn’t seen it time and time again, but someone who joked around at every chance he got still managed to have one of the strongest work ethics on tour—and Namjoon had kept the remaining members of Rated Riot busy.

If you hadn’t been exhausted to the point of confusion, you might have felt offended about how little you were needed here.

Half an hour later, Luna found you stumbling back into the tour bus.

“How was the wedding?” she asked straight away.

She wasn’t the type to conceal her eagerness when she was particularly curious about something—it was not even the wedding in this case, but your confrontation with Jungkook—but she still made sure to help you climb up the bus steps before you tumbled backwards and broke your neck.

You were far too tired to understand the expectations that hid behind her question, however, as you mumbled dejectedly, “I caught the bouquet.”

“You—” she began to say and then burst into laughter so unexpectedly that the roadie, who’d been unloading the stage equipment outside the bus, flinched in surprise. “You caught the bouquet! Of course, you caught the fucking bouquet.”

You wondered if you were too out of it to understand why this was so funny to her that she couldn’t stop laughing the entire ride to the venue, but you lacked the energy to ask.

“There was no ex,” you said as you glided towards your bunk while your amused friend stood back, covering up the sharp angles on your way with her hand. “Sid was just being an idiot. If I see him—well, I probably won’t do anything because I don’t know what the laws for assault are in Germany—are we in Germany? I’m so tired.”

Noticing your haphazard stream of thoughts, Luna pulled herself together and stopped laughing—but only for a short while—as she helped you reach your bunk.

“We are in Germany,” she confirmed. “Although I’m not sure where you are. How about you take a quick nap while the band does their soundcheck?”

“No, no. I have things to do now that I’m back. To make up for leaving.”

“Things are fine,” she assured you. You knew she was right, but your guilt was persistent. “Nothing fell apart while you were gone. The guys took care of themselves just fine. You’ve raised them well.”

You acknowledged the joke with a small, tired smile. That was good enough for Luna, who was starting to get worried your condition would require medical attention, considering how adamantly you were resisting her attempts to sit you down in your bunk—despite looking like you may fall asleep standing up.

“Are you sure?” you asked again.

“I am,” she said. “Sleep, okay? We’ll be fine.”

Somewhere deep in your exhausted subconsciousness, you realised how unprofessional it would be to take a nap while the band you managed went to the soundcheck on their own. But your eyes were closing without your say so, and you hardly could have helped anyone in a state like this anyway.

When you woke up several hours later, Rated Riot were doing their Meet & Greet according to schedule, and you felt much better—or, at least, good enough to return to your regular duties. You grabbed a Snickers bar from the mini-fridge, and then went out of the bus and into the venue.

As it turned out, it was only the stage management crew and the producers who had kept things in control; they were the ones who hadn’t noticed your absence. Unfortunately, everyone else had.

Luna was kind when she told you that nothing fell apart while you were gone.

Some things wobbled, and there were several rushed phone calls you had to make to fix it—namely, to make up for one of the interviews that Rated Riot missed because they were doing another interview, which wasn’t initially scheduled— but you were grateful for all of it. The sudden rush of adrenaline completely woke you up.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was doing jumping jacks in the changing room to keep himself awake after he managed to survive the Meet & Greet. It wasn’t terrible—it was, actually, very inspiring as these events tended to be—but he couldn’t stop apologising to the fans for his incessant yawning. It just wasn’t right. He was better than that—the fans deserved his complete presence.

The other Rated Riot members were getting snacks at the buffet on the first floor; they planned to go exploring Berlin for an hour or two before the show. Aware of that, Sid, Jude, and Minjun found their way into the changing room.

Their arrival stopped Jungkook’s exercise before they even announced their entrance. For a minute, the four of them regarded each other in complete silence.

Even Jude was quiet this time. As it turned out, his earlier sneezing was a lesser-known withdrawal symptom that one night out in the city seemed to fix—at least that’s what he informed everyone in the group chat. Jungkook wanted to know nothing about it; he rarely drew lines with his friends, but he drew one here. His preferred method of intoxication had always been alcohol and cigarettes, he never needed more thrills.

“Well!” Jungkook finally exclaimed. “If it isn’t my four-thousand dollars.”

Even if his friends hadn’t seen you two leave together the other day, everyone travelling with Rated Riot was aware that the manager of the band was going to be gone for a day, because she was taking a trip to Paris with Jungkook.

Sid mumbled something incoherent while Jude shook his head, and Minjun just stood there, hands in his pockets. He was the one who spoke up first, glancing between the three other boys.

“It seems like he won fair and square,” he said to Sid and Jude, both of whom appeared to be looking for loopholes. “I see no appeals.”

“That’s right,” Jungkook declared. “I did win fair. Even though some of you tried to play dirty.”

He only glanced at Sid as he said this—the insinuation obvious enough—but his friend reacted like he’d been shot.

“I didn’t even say anything to her!” he defended. Jungkook couldn’t help a knowing grin—he hadn’t even said anything about Sid talking to you. Irritably, Sid continued, “and how did you even win, exactly? We bet on a date, not a—whatever the fuck you two did.”

“We went on a date,” Jungkook said again, taking pride in his calm tone and the way it seemed to cause steam to come out of Sid’s ears. “To a wedding. Do I get an extra $500 for how romantic that is?”

Really, he didn’t care about the extra money. He cared about Sid’s reaction—and it was satisfying. The older boy rolled his eyes and kept toying with his hands: crossing, then uncrossing them, stuffing them in his pockets, then resting them on the back of a chair in front of him.

Finally, he said, “you went as friends.”

“She was my date,” Jungkook reiterated. “That’s how weddings work. You don’t bring friends, you bring dates.”

“That’s not—” Jude tried to interject, but Sid extended a dangerous hand and cut him off with this gesture alone.

“Did you kiss her at the end of this date?” he asked, the last word sounding more like a synonym for a massacre than a romantic night out on his lips.

Jungkook frowned at him. “How is that relevant to the bet?”

“It’s the most important part. That’s the one thing that separates your—your outing from actual dates.”

Jungkook swallowed and looked at his other friends. Jude seemed distracted, not paying much attention to the conversation at all, while Minjun just appeared uncomfortable like he had the first time he found out about the bet. Neither of them jumped to his side or even offered a sympathetic nod.

“That wasn’t what we talked about when we agreed to the bet,” Jungkook said. His voice lacked certainty and Sid picked up on it immediately.

“That’s literally how dates go,” he said and broke off into a leisurely stroll around the changing room. His previous resentment had long but faded as he explained, “you spend time together, you talk, whatever—then you kiss.”

“Sid, my man,” Minjun waited until Sid stopped walking, then patted him on the back, mocking comfort. “This reasoning is not on your side at all.”

“Yeah,” Jude agreed, snorting. “By this logic, you’ve never been on a single date in your whole life.”

Sid pushed his tongue into his cheek in annoyance, and even Jungkook grinned as the two boys high-fived over Sid’s head.

“It was a date,” Jungkook repeated once more. “Stop looking for ways out of it and go get my money.”

Jude pushed his hand into his back pocket where he kept his wallet—this didn’t seem to faze him much; for someone who had an abundance of it, this was just money—but Sid extended his hand again, signalling for him to stop. Clearly, it wasn’t just money for him. It was a matter of pride.

“Dude, you have got to stop doing that,” Jude said as Sid’s arm smacked him on the chest. “I’m not a fucking dog.”

Ignoring him, Sid narrowed his eyes at Jungkook. “You went to that wedding as friends and you know it.”

“Actually, thanks to you, I barely went to that wedding at all,” Jungkook shot back. He took one step closer to Sid with each sentence that followed, “but I did. And I took her as my date. Just like I said I would. So, pay up.”

By the time he finished speaking, he was right in front of him—and, therefore, had the best seats in the house to witness Sid actually hesitate, likely for the first time in his life.

Still, Sid clicked his tongue and said, “I don’t think so.”

Throwing his head back with a groan, Jungkook placed his hands on his hips.

“Sounds like you’re too idiotic to admit you lost,” he said. “Now what?”

He’d meant the question for the rest of his friends, but it was Sid who needed less than two seconds to offer a solution.

“We’ll use a referee,” he said, turning around. “Minjun?”

Clearly not having expected to be assigned this role, Minjun opened his mouth in surprise, then closed it again.

“What—why do I have to referee?” he asked after a moment. “I wasn’t even there when you made the bet.”

“That’s exactly why,” Sid said. “Jungkook, Jude and I are involved. You’re the only one who can be impartial.”

Jungkook didn’t protest; he didn’t see the point. Minjun was more level-headed than Sid, so he liked those odds. Not to mention, he’d always had a different friendship with Minjun, one that actually felt like a friendship. So, he only shrugged when Minjun glanced at him as if asking if he agreed with this.

Noticing this, Sid wondered, for a split-second, if Minjun really could be as impartial as he thought he’d be (and he’d thought that, of course, Minjun would swing more in his direction—all of Sid’s friends did, that’s why they were his friends).

“Fine,” Minjun decided, making his way to the middle of the changing room. “Sit down. Tell us about the date.”

All three of them obediently relocated to the couch. Jungkook had to sit on the armrest because Sid and Jude took up the entirety of the loveseat with their exceptional talent at manspreading.

“What else do you want me to say?” he asked. “I already told you everything.”

“That was barely anything,” Sid protested next to him.

Jungkook was about to argue back, but Minjun spoke first, “Sid’s right. I need to know more details so I can make an informed decision.”

Jungkook didn’t know if that was fair—he’d taken you out on a date, he’d won—and he didn’t want to share anything else with them. This seemed like Sid’s way to rile him up even more, and the rest of his friends played along with it.

“We went to a wedding,” he said.

“You already said that,” Minjun pointed out.

“Okay,” Jungkook clenched his jaw. Then added, “we took a train to get there.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Jude was the one who got annoyed first as he groaned and locked his hands behind his head. “If that’s all you did, you definitely didn’t go to that wedding as dates. You barely went as friends, my man.”

Offended, Jungkook shuffled in his seat, trying to throw one leg over the other, but nearly losing his balance on the armrest as he did. He settled back into his previous stoic position.

“That’s—that’s not all we did,” he said awkwardly.

“Okay, so what else?” Minjun encouraged. “Did you talk?”

“No, we mimed to make it more fun,” he deadpanned. “Of course, we fucking talked. We talked the whole time on the train.”

Ignoring his wit, Minjun gave a thoughtful nod. “Okay. So, that’s what? Fifteen hours of non-stop talking? That’s a point for Jungkook.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sid immediately perked up, leaning forward with so much force that he nearly knocked Jungkook off the armrest. “But how do we know he’s not lying to us?”

Jungkook thought he might start throwing things. He wasn’t sure how he felt about whatever this was, but it sure reminded him of an interrogation, and he couldn’t help feeling defensive—to the point of physical violence if that’s what it took. But Minjun took his role as a referee very seriously.

“Because I have to pry information about this date out of him,” he said. Sid leaned back in his seat, smacking his lips in resignation. Minjun added, this time throwing a warning look at Jungkook, “and because if he says something I have a hard time believing, I’ll go straight to the other source.”

Jungkook widened his eyes, near-frantic. “You can’t ask her. She’ll kick me out of the band. She’ll never fucking speak to me again!”

Unsure which consequence Jungkook was more afraid of, Minjun nodded and said, gentler now, “then don’t lie.”

“I haven’t lied once,” he argued, picking up a decorative pillow off the floor—it must have fallen there when the two boys sat down on the couch—and tossing it at Sid, who caught it before it hit his face. “Your distrustful ass needs to shut up and quit whining. You fucking lost.”

“I didn’t fucking—”

“Focus,” Minjun said firmly—like a teacher, trying to discipline unruly kindergartners. “Jungkook. What did you talk about? How many mentions of your feelings for each other?”

Jungkook closed his eyes at the question, pushing his chin forward, an expression of blatant disbelief on his face.

“How many mentions of—what the fuck?” he spoke, unable to repeat the question without scoffing. He opened his eyes to look at each one of his friends. “Have any of you ever been on a real date?”

“I’d be on one right now if we weren’t holding court about a fucking bet,” Jude mumbled, his stare vacant as he clearly shifted in and out of focus on this conversation.

“I take it no mentions, then,” Minjun concluded.

“Of course, no mentions,” Jungkook groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “Who the fuck—”

“1-1,” Minjun declared, cutting him off. Cursing under his breath at the ridiculous, almost unrealistic turn that this bet had taken, Jungkook pushed himself deeper into the armrest, his side purposefully digging into Sid’s. Minjun asked, “how much time did you spend together—just the two of you—excluding the time on the train?”

“Wh—okay,” the vocalist inhaled, figuring he’d have to actually answer this one or else his friend would vote in Sid’s favour again. “We took a cab to the wedding. And walked around the Champs-Elysées.”

“Good, good,” Minjun nodded. “Was there any sort of—"

“Wait,” Jungkook stopped him, “don’t I get a point for that?”

“For what?” Sid interjected. “Walking down the street with her?”

“It wasn’t a fucking—”

“You get half a point,” Minjun said. “Now was there any sort of physical touching? Any hugs? Embraces?”

Again, Jungkook was forced to give his friends questioning looks. He felt incredulous—not just because it was starting to seem likely that he’d lose the bet, but also because they were forcing him to share the parts of his life that he’d never shared with anyone other than you before.

“You’re exploiting the shit out of me right now,” he said.

Minjun groaned and proceeded to curse as he spun around his axis, finally losing patience—not with Jungkook per se. He was just tired of being the middleman in a very stupid, childish game.

“We’re literally trying to find out if you were on a date or not,” he said louder. “Why is it so hard for you to just answer the questions and get this over with?”

“Because it’s my fucking business!” Jungkook snapped, jumping to his feet. “We never agreed that I’d have to share any details about the date. Just the fact that there even was a date was supposed to be enough.”

“But we don’t know if there was a date,” Sid argued—in every way that Jungkook appeared agitated right now, Sid came off as victorious. He knew this wasn’t looking good for Jungkook. “That’s the whole point.”

“Why the fuck would I take her to Paris,” he demanded, aware that he was yelling now, “if not for a fucking date?!”

“Because you’re in love with her,” Sid shot back. The relative calmness of his voice in comparison to his only pissed Jungkook off more.

Both of them were standing now, but Sid, who was only taller by a few centimetres, somehow always had the upper hand—not just in this conversation, but in their friendship, too.

In barely fifteen minutes, the tables had turned completely, and Jungkook was the one losing control of himself.

“That has nothing to do with—oh my God,” he covered his face with his hands and turned his back to his friends, giving up. “Okay. Fine. I can’t do this shit.”

“So, you admit defeat?” Sid asked—Jungkook could hear the grin on his friend’s face without looking at him.

“I admit nothing,” he grumbled.

“If you can’t prove it was a date, you lose.”

Turning around to look at him, Jungkook shrugged with exaggerated intensity as he asked through a humourless laugh, “how would I prove it? Everything I say sounds like a joke to you three.”

“I wasn’t laughing,” Jude spoke up suddenly—another return to the home planet—and then mumbled, “you’re not very funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be—” Jungkook stopped and inhaled sharply. He’d grown tired of playing this courtroom drama with the three of them. “Alright. I need to get ready for the show.”

All three of his friends understood the subtle indication that Jungkook was kicking them out of the changing room—Minjun turned towards the door and Jude stood up from the couch. But Sid stood still.

“The keys,” he said.

Jungkook frowned. “What?”

“Hand over the keys.”

Clenching his jaw, Jungkook kept eye contact with him for a minute before saying firmly, “I’m not handing you anything.”

“You lost the bet,” Sid said—his voice gaining a dangerous edge now that Jungkook wasn’t complying. “The Katana is mine.”

Jungkook pursed his lips as he continued to stare defiantly into his friend’s eyes.

“If I can’t prove it was a date,” he said, “then you can’t prove it wasn’t.”

The two of them watched each other for another minute until Sid licked his lips and nodded, signalling that—for once—he agreed to disagree.

“Alright,” he said, looking around the room. Jungkook did not feel relief. He felt tension. “I see how it is. How about we adjust the conditions of the bet, then?”

Even though he was sure he didn’t want to know, Jungkook still asked, “what does that mean?”

“If you manage to get back together with her,” Sid proposed, “we’ll all pay you $5000 each.”

Just as Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, Minjun furrowed his, declaring right away, “don’t include me in your shit.”

“Fine,” Sid agreed. Then clarified to Jungkook, “Jude and I will pay you $5000 each.”

It took Jude a moment to react, and he, too, tried to back out of this. “I don’t think I—”

“You were in the original bet,” Sid said, shooting a warning look his way, “you can’t get out now.”

Jude wasn’t very pleased with having to go through this again—even if the first bet didn’t, technically, cost him anything. He relented, though, because he always did, “fine, you bitch.”

Sid looked back at Jungkook, waiting for his response.

Aware of the predicament that he’d found himself in—or, rather, that Sid had manipulated him in—Jungkook crossed his arms on his chest and took his time before speaking up.

“And if I disagree?” he asked.

“Well, you have two options here,” Sid said, “either you give the keys to me because you lost the previous bet, or you hand the keys over to Minjun, our impartial referee, while I wait for you to lose this updated bet.”

Minjun rolled his eyes again, annoyed that he still couldn’t escape being involved in Sid’s game.

Jungkook, on the other hand, needed another minute. He’d definitely prefer to give Minjun the keys—just because he knew Minjun might give them back to him.

“So, just to be clear,” Jungkook started slowly, “you’re saying that if I get back together with her, I’m keeping the Katana and getting 10K?”

“Yes,” Sid confirmed. “And if you don’t, the bike’s ours. We’ll find good use for it. How does that sound?”

Like signing your soul over for the devil, that’s how it sounded.

Jungkook shook his head. A date was a date, he thought you would find a way to let that slide if you accidentally found out. But his relationship with you wasn’t for sale.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

Sid took it well, merely shrugging as he extended his hand, palm up. “Well, then hand over the keys.”

Agitated again, Jungkook smacked his palm against Sid’s. “Get out of here. I’m not fucking—”

“You lost the bet,” Sid repeated, enunciating each word so loudly, it cut Jungkook off. “The Katana is fucking mine, I’m just generous enough to give you another chance to win it back.”

“It’s not fucking yours.”

“He’s right,” Jude spoke up again—very unhappy that he was only remembered when the topic turned to him paying. “It’s technically ours.”

“It’s mine,” Jungkook said, taking a moment to look at both, Sid and Jude, as he repeated, “I didn’t lose.”

“Then you have no choice,” Sid concluded. “The bet is ongoing.”

“How is it ongoing?” he argued. “It’s one thing to go on a date—”

“Which you didn’t,” Sid interjected.

“—which I did,” Jungkook countered, his eyes burning with a flame so angry, it was almost a miracle Sid didn’t immediately catch fire. “But you’re suggesting a completely different thing now. Starting a relationship is not the same. Especially if it’s a relationship with someone you already dated before.”

“I know,” Sid said, seemingly unbothered. Jungkook wondered why, because his friend didn’t look pleased, either. He didn’t look like he’d tricked him, like he knew he’d win for sure.

Clearly then, Sid had to think that the odds of winning this bet were, more or less, equal for both of them. That had to mean that a part of him believed that Jungkook could really get back together with you.

Consequently, Jungkook realised that Sid wasn’t, really, suggesting anything at all. He was simply telling him that this was how it was going to be from now on.

“I can’t do that just randomly,” he said. “I can’t just approach her and ask her this. It’s—”

“Two weeks,” Sid said. “That enough for you?”

Jungkook swallowed.

Even though he wanted this, he knew that attempting to get back together with you now could jeopardize everything that you’ve done in the past two years as Rated Riot’s manager. Jungkook didn’t think he wanted to burn down the same bridges that the two of you had built back from the ground up.

That being said, there was a glimmer of hope—very obscure, barely there, not even visible, really, just faintly humming somewhere about his chest—that you would get back together, and his reward wouldn’t just be $10 000.

It’d also be a future with you; the very same one that he could sense in Paris.

He knew he didn’t need a bet to bring this future to the present. If anything, the bet might hinder the progress of your relationship. But if there was a possibility that he’d get everything: you, his bike, and the defeat of Sid; if there was a possibility that, for once, the idiot would lose and all of his shit-talking would come back to make him miserable… Jungkook was on the edge of considering it.

Smirking as the younger boy bit his lip in anxious contemplation, Sid looked at the other two guys in the room and announced cheerfully, “you’re actually doubting this!”

“I’m not doubting the time frame,” Jungkook said. “I’m doubting if you’ll keep your end of the deal since you’re very much fucking me over right now.”

Sid rolled his eyes.

“We can write the conditions down and have Minjun stamp it if that makes you feel better,” he said.

Minjun—the designated lawyer, apparently—groaned, but did not audibly object. This wasn’t a conversation involving him—it barely involved Jude, who was, technically, part of the bet—so he stood back and watched the face-off on the sidelines.

“Stamp it with what?” Jungkook asked, finding this excessive. “Our blood?”

“Anything that makes you feel better.”

Jungkook brought his tongue over his teeth as he thought this over.

He couldn’t do this.

But how could he not? If he gave his bike up now, if he dropped out of the bet, Sid would be free to find you and tell you about it—acting like he didn’t mean it. Like he was just showing off the bike that Jungkook gave him, and the bet simply came up. And then, not only would Jungkook lose his Katana, but he’d definitely lose you, too.

No, he had to be the one who told you about this in hopes that, once your initial anger faded, you would cooperate with him. Not for the Katana, but to make Sid fail. And maybe that could be what brought you together, what made you stay together even after the bet ended.

It’s the only way he could win.

Sighing, he asked. “What are the conditions?”

“First of all,” Sid started—glancing at Minjun who pulled his phone out to write it down. iPhones seemed more formal than bar napkins and Jungkook bit his lip, realising this was serious as Sid dictated the rules, “you both have to be aware that you’re back together.”

“That’s already a given.”

“Not with you it isn’t, you sneaky shit,” Sid disagreed, the seemingly innocent smile on his face concealing his anger about not having gotten his way with the first bet.

“Fine,” Jungkook agreed and immediately offered his own condition, “then you can’t talk to her about the bet or attempt to ruin this for me. Just sit back and wait until it’s over.”

Sid considered this. “Alright. But you can’t tell her anything, either. If I find out that the two of you plotted against me, the deal’s off and the bike is mine.”

Jungkook was the one who needed a minute this time.

Obviously, Sid had single-handedly ruined a plan that, Jungkook now realised, wasn’t very well-developed to begin with. But Sid’s satisfied mug pushed him to clench his jaw and agree anyway.

“Fine,” he settled. “I won’t tell her anything.”

It could still be okay, he hoped. He would just have to find a different way.

Perhaps, he thought suddenly, he could drag this out long enough that Sid would forget about it. Even two weeks could be plenty if enough happened to distract him—or if Jungkook stopped talking about it altogether.

Both boys looked over at Minjun, who typed for two more seconds, then looked up at each of them and nodded.

“The keys,” Sid reminded Jungkook.

Groaning, he pulled them out and passed them over to Minjun who had the decency to look apologetic as he took them from him.

“So,” Sid continued then, grinning mischievously as he extended his hand. “Do we shake on it?”

Jungkook knew he had a big head when it came to talking about this, but he also knew that actually making this happen would be a true challenge. He wasn’t sure if he could do this. He was sure he didn’t want to do this.

But if he succeeded—fuck—he’d get you back. There was hardly anything else in this world he would still want. Maybe a nice meal every now and then, but he’d make do with dry ramen noodles until the end of his days if he had to.

Fuck.

He liked his odds; the date at Kihyun’s wedding went well, after all. But Jungkook could also recall—very vividly—you telling him that you didn’t believe in second chances. Not to mention, you’d been very explicit when you’d asked him not to lie to you again.

Fuck.

“You’re sure taking your sweet time,” Sid teased, his hand still hanging in the air. “Not so sure of yourself anymore?”

It had to get worse before it got better, Jungkook told himself.

He had to agree to this, first of all, to find a way out. Then, he had to win to turn this bet into a distant memory with minimal consequences, to make it almost like it never even happened before—without you knowing, without him losing his bike, without Sid fucking winning.

And, most importantly, through this, he had to find his way back to you.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he lied—he did it well and he could tell, based on the way Sid narrowed his eyes when Jungkook’s palm touched his. “You’re fucking pitiful. But I’m still going to win this.”

Jungkook was worried he’d have a hard time performing after agreeing to the bet, but the concert in Berlin, surprisingly, worked as a distraction.

He sensed the irony: once, he’d used the bet to distract him from the anxiety of the tour. Now he had to perform in order to distract himself from the bet.

Still, once the show finished, Minjun saw the vacancy behind Jungkook’s eyes, and it unsettled him. Wanting to take his friend’s mind off this, he suggested getting drinks once the bus arrived in Copenhagen.

Jungkook took that to assume it’d only be the two of them going out, leaving Sid and Jude to occupy themselves with something else, and he didn’t mind that at all.

But this was where unforeseen circumstances altered their plans.

While the band was having after-show drinks backstage in Berlin, the crew dismantled the stage set: several bars of batten were dropped, causing minor injuries for the staff members in charge of the deconstruction. They didn’t need medical attention, thankfully, but the equipment had been broken—decorative light fixtures with Rated Riot’s logo that were supported on the battens had shattered and the metal pipe constructions had come apart.

You were informed that it would take approximately two hours to salvage what was fixable and load the equipment back onto the buses before you could leave for Copenhagen. Naturally, you were concerned about the state of the staff—if they could even drive after this—but they assured you they were fine. Still, you insisted they rested after having reassembled the equipment and assessed the damage.

Finally, everyone settled on leaving Berlin at five or six in the morning—that gave you, at least, five more hours in the city.

While this might turn out to be a logistical challenge for you and the rest of the roadies, it was an opportunity for Minjun, who immediately pulled Jungkook outside, already looking up the closest bars.

“No time like the present,” he’d said after Jungkook questioned what happened to getting drinks in Denmark. “We grab something here, get some sleep, and then grab something else once we arrive.”

Most unfortunately, Sid and Jude also saw this as an opportunity to get drunk, and did not hesitate to invite themselves to join the other two boys.

Technically, Jungkook and Minjun didn’t even realise that they weren’t the only ones entering the bar until Sid ordered them to get a table while he and Jude went to get drinks.

They were always the ones who picked the drinks for the night, and, for the first time in his life, Jungkook felt a little concerned—Sid and Jude always, without a fail, chose the drinks with the highest alcohol concentration.

“Why do you care?” Minjun asked as the two of them settled in the booth of the bar. “You’ve only passed out drunk, maybe, three times in your whole life.”

“I haven’t slept properly in two days,” Jungkook said. “So the fourth time might be tonight. And if that happens—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll personally carry you home,” Minjun replied. “I’m not getting your girl involved.”

“What girl?” Sid asked, returning with a tray. The question was unnecessary, really; he was already grinning anyway. “Last time I checked, she wanted nothing to do with you and only went to Paris with you out of—”

“One more word about it,” Jungkook said, “and I’m leaving you stranded in Germany.”

“Sensitive,” Sid commented and sat down next to him while Jude climbed into the booth next to Minjun. “Alright. Let’s get you loosened up, you’re awfully uptight.”

Minjun noticed that whatever Jungkook prepared to respond with wasn’t going to be pretty. He wanted to avoid confrontation and pushed the highball glass towards him.

While Jungkook drank, Minjun made sure to shift the topic: staying close enough to the bet so that Sid would remain entertained, but making sure to drift away from you, so Jungkook wouldn’t be triggered, either.

“How’s the engine on your Katana?” he asked. “All good?”

The question seemed innocent enough, but Jungkook saw through this plan as he swallowed his drink. He gave his friend a look—Minjun wasn’t sure if it was grateful or just confused—as he put his glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his palm.

“It’s fine,” he said. “The oil’s leaking, though. I still don’t know why.”

“The gasket has worn out, probably,” Jude offered right away. If he didn’t have a trust fund bigger than ideas what to do with it, he might have genuinely considered becoming a mechanic.

“It couldn’t have,” Jungkook said. “I just changed it.”

“Did you change all the plugs, too?” Sid asked. He could tell from the look in Jungkook’s eyes as he took another sip instead of answering that he hadn’t. “You don’t know how to take care of it properly. I told you that you should have let me look at it. It’s why I’m going to be—”

“You break everything you touch,” Jude accused before Sid could elaborate further. “Let me take a look at it when we get back.”

Jungkook’s three friends – although significantly wealthier than he was – had always had a soft spot for anything that had wheels. It started out with tuning their bikes when they were fifteen and turned into purchasing their own vehicles when they got older: which meant Sid, Jude, and Minjun getting their first cars at seventeen, and Jungkook purchasing his Katana as soon as he made enough money for it. Minjun had known this when he asked the question that started the conversation.

And so, for the next hour and a half, the four of them immersed themselves in a discussion about Jungkook’s Katana, Sid’s vast collection of chevies (nevermind that he’d inherited the first Chevrolet from his grandfather, and the rest were gifted to him by his parents), and Jude’s latest hobby: restoring his 2002 Nissan Skyline after he’d wrecked it drag-racing.

“See, I knew no one should let you drive,” Sid said—he’d already had five drinks at that point and was, therefore, rocking gently in his seat.

“You’re one to fucking talk” Jude heated up, equally as drunk. “You can’t tell the wheel from your ass.”

Jungkook snickered as he sipped his drink.

Minjun took over the argument, “you’re both shit, actually. As far as I remember, Jungkook and I won most of our races. But I was driving in all of them, of course.”

Here, Jungkook raised his head, his eyebrows furrowed in offence.

“Not true,” he said indignantly. “I was driving at least once when we won.”

Minjun gave him a look. “You crashed into a wall that time.”

“We still won, though.”

“Because Sid dented someone’s fence and lost a tire a minute before you!”

“Still,” Jungkook said with a pout that he was not aware of. Then, he added a very important, “I’m not that bad of a driver.”

There was irony in Minjun’s laugh as he shook his head and began to list off the consequences of their win, “both of us had whiplash. The car was totalled. Your girlfriend nearly left you.”

Jungkook put his glass down with more force than intended—any mention of you sent a signal into his subconsciousness, as it seemed. “Okay, that’s—that’s a different thing.”

“How is that a different thing?” Minjun did not relent. “You’d even named the car after her.”

“Are you implying I crashed it because I’d named it after her?”

“I’m saying if you can’t drive a car you named after your girl, then how can you—”

“You know what?” Sid cut in, growing bored. He pulled his phone out and nearly dropped it as he smacked his elbow into the edge of the table. Hissing in pain, he lifted his phone off the settee and clutched his arm, “fucking shit. God. We need a new race to settle it. You and Minjun wouldn’t be on the same team for once. You think we could rent out cars here?”

He was already browsing on his phone when Minjun snorted. “Definitely not at four in the morning.”

“We could do it tomorrow,” Jude suggested. Sid nodded right away. Jude pointed his glass at his friend’s phone and said, “look up rental places in Denmark.”

If Jungkook wasn’t so tired—and the two Manhattans he’d consumed didn’t help, either—he would have been surprised that Jude knew his European countries well enough to recognize Copenhagen as the capital of Denmark. Instead, he pulled his own phone out of his pocket.

“Actually,” he said then. “Maybe we should go. The bar closes soon, and we have to get back to the bus.”

Sid lifted his eyebrows and looked at his friends for support—Jude was already gathering his belongings, and Minjun was already halfway out of the booth, too.

“Wow,” Sid said, despite being the only one who had a problem with Jungkook’s statement. “What’d she do to you? You’re no fun.”

“I agree with him,” Minjun cut in before Jungkook could say—or throw, as he clutched his empty glass—anything else. “We should go.”

Rolling his eyes and grunting about how boring everyone had gotten in Europe, Sid pushed past them to exit the booth and headed to the bathroom before they left. Minjun made him swear not to drink anything else on his way back, and the rest of the boys went outside to wait.

Meanwhile, you had been busy helping the roadies out—before they politely escorted you outside, claiming that they were stressed out by the endless phone calls you were getting from the label after they heard of the problems with the stage set—so you hadn’t seen Jungkook leave with his friends.

But Maggie—friend, tour photographer, social drinker with an alcohol tolerance that could have knocked Jungkook out—had spotted them. And it gave her a wonderful idea the second she saw you lingering by the exit of the venue.

“Since we’re stuck in Berlin,” she had announced to you, “let’s do something with it.”

It had sounded like a suggestion only for a second—immediately after she said it, she grabbed your hand and pulled you after herself to find Luna. It wouldn’t have been a proper night out if the three of you weren’t together.

Not many bars were still open at nearly four in the morning, but Maggie seemed to have a radar—the three of you were in a booth at the very back of some half-deserted pub before the remaining 20% of your phone battery could run out.

“I don’t think I should have left, to be honest,” you said, your hand hesitating around the cocktail glass that Maggie had ordered for you as soon as you walked inside. “We were having kind of a crisis back there.”

“You weren’t doing anything,” Maggie replied. She was sitting next to you and leaned over to pat your back in a comforting manner as she admitted, “I overheard Otto call Seokjin to come pick you up and get you out of there.”

Otto was one of the roadies and Seokjin’s right hand backstage. You didn’t know he initiated your removal from the venue, and you didn’t particularly like being excluded when you thought you could have been helpful. Clearly, the stage management team thought otherwise.

“I’m with Maggie,” Luna said; she knew you’d expect her to back you up, so she spoke before you could. “If something happens, you can still go back. A few drinks won’t hurt.”

“Yeah, and besides,” Maggie raised her glass, “if the boys get to drink, we should, too.”

The two girls laughed at this, clinking their glasses—it seemed like an appropriate toast—but you needed another minute in your managerial role before you could fully detach yourself.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Who’s drinking?”

You directed your attention at Luna—your gaze inquiring about her boyfriend’s whereabouts—and she swallowed her drink before speaking. “I don’t know. Taehyung is asleep on the bus.”

“It’s Jungkook,” Maggie answered you. “I saw him leave with his friends.”

You closed your eyes, realising that you should have expected this.

Everything seemed to have been decided for you – you weren’t required back at the venue and you couldn’t, exactly, stumble around the streets of Berlin in search of Jungkook and his friends, either.

If anything, you were required here as your friends watched you expectantly.

They were right, really. A few drinks weren’t going to be a problem if you’d get a call (that is, if your phone wouldn’t die until then). And you were tired, anyway—to the point where sleep evaded you sometimes, just because you craved it so much. Alcohol might even help in this case.

However, as soon as you finally tasted the cocktail in your glass, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You glanced at your friends first—they were either lifting their eyebrows (in Maggie’s case) or rolling their eyes (in Luna’s)—then you swallowed and turned around.

“What a coincidence!” Sid exclaimed when your eyes met.

A part of you—a dark impulse that you didn’t try particularly hard to control—wanted to toss your remaining drink right at him; like holy water at a possessed child. Begone, demon.

Before you could react, however, Jungkook rushed into the bar from outside. You merely had enough time to grasp what was happening—the bar that Maggie had picked happened to be the same one that Jungkook and his friends had been drinking in—before Jungkook pulled on Sid’s shoulder, forcefully dragging him away from you.

“He was just leaving,” he said briskly.

Sid tried to resist, but Jungkook had more strength—and far more determination. “I wasn’t. I’m actually—”

“He’s leaving,” Jungkook repeated with a strictness in his voice that you weren’t sure you’d heard before.

“What are you even doing here?” Sid whined at his friend as he was tossed to a side that was furthest away from you. “I thought you were waiting outside.”

“You took too long,” Jungkook mumbled. “Go.”

Sid groaned, but allowed the younger boy to literally drag him away. Once Minjun was close enough, he took over and grabbed the side of Sid’s jacket, pushing him through the door of the bar.

Jungkook looked back at you and gave you a small nod—as though encouraging you to stay with your friends instead of going after him to check up on him. You nodded back, thus allowing him to walk outside after Sid.

Jungkook was fuming.

Things had been going well tonight; he’d actually had a nice night with his friends and even forgot that these were the same people who pushed him into this bet.

But then he was forced to watch—in horror—as Sid approached you back at the bar, and he remembered everything.

So, while Sid pushed Minjun off of himself, Jungkook snarled, “I thought it was clear that you can’t fucking talk to her.”

Sid only shrugged and pulled out a cigarette from a pack inside his jacket pocket. “I just went over to say hi.”

“Don’t.”

Sid rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to mention the bet,” he spoke and offered cigarettes to Jude and Minjun first, then to Jungkook. All three of them took one each. Sid lit his up and continued, “you can’t forbid me from talking to her altogether.”

“Actually, I can,” Jungkook replied, still irritated that he hadn’t been there—once again—to stop Sid from approaching you. “And that’s exactly what I’m doing now.”

Despite the argument, Jungkook took Sid’s lighter when he offered it to him. In doing so, he realised that the paradox of this situation summarised their friendship fairly well. It had always been like this between him and Sid: constantly bantering and arguing, but staying friends, nevertheless.

“Why?” Sid asked with a grin, perpetually amused by Jungkook’s protectiveness. He blew smoke out and asked, “scared I’ll steal her from you?”

Jude and Minjun snorted in unison. The mocking sound took Sid’s attention off Jungkook as he glowered at them.

“You’re drunker than I thought,” Minjun commented, bolder than Jude was under Sid’s glare.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sid challenged. “You all know I’m one of a fucking kind.”

Now Jude and Minjun were nearly howling with laughter, and even Jungkook couldn’t resist smirking. Meanwhile, Sid’s frown deepened. He liked to tease others; he didn’t like to be teased—never mind that he was setting himself up for mockery.

“You’re not shit,” Jude retorted, too drunk to come up with a wittier comeback. “She would never go for you.”

“No, he had a point,” Jungkook said. “She’s never hated anyone for as long as I’ve known her. Except for him.” He turned to Sid with a derisive grin. “So, you really are one of a kind.”

“Oh, I see,” Sid laughed humourlessly. He took another drag and then said to Jungkook—not even blinking as he watched him, “tonight was fun. But it’s going to get even better once you lose the bet.”

Jungkook remained apathetic as he removed the cigarette from his lips. “I won’t.”

“You will,” Sid insisted. His intense staring was an intimidation tactic that Jungkook had already grown accustomed to. He did not twitch or back away when Sid leaned in closer. “And you know why? Because you’re in love with her.”

This time, he wasn’t going to argue otherwise. Sid had used this as a weapon, he meant to ridicule him with it. But Jungkook—in this tipsy and tired state—realised that his self-esteem didn’t depend on whether his friends thought he still loved you or not.

Before, he had been eager to show them that he didn’t care about you—he thought that was the only way he could prove that his friends weren’t significantly better than him just because they weren’t in love with anyone.

Now he was going to show them that he did care about you, and caring still didn’t make him inferior.

“This might be disappointing to you,” Jungkook retorted, “but I can be in love with her and still make you lose.”

“See,” Sid said, grinning because this confession was precisely what he was coaxing out of Jungkook. And it was precisely the reason why Sid thought Jungkook would never win against him—be it a bet, or just in life in general. “But I don’t think you can.”

“Sit back and watch me, then,” Jungkook replied, blowing smoke out in Sid’s face. He pulled back immediately and the dissatisfied frown on his face was, simply put, beautiful.

Back inside, the girls chose to avoid discussing what had just happened with you. They had their reasons for changing the topic, too: Maggie had a policy against all boys who dared to interrupt your girls’ night, and Luna simply knew that if you continued to talk about this, you’d be more tempted to go out and check if Jungkook wasn’t getting into trouble.

But not even ten minutes later—just when you’d finished your second glass—Jungkook himself unexpectedly returned to the bar. You’d noticed him from across the room, and the second your eyes met, he made a beeline for you.

“Sorry about that before,” he said to everyone at your table, nodding apologetically at Luna and Maggie. “I, um, wanted to let you know that I’m going to be heading back. The bus is about to leave, right?”

Still surprised by his sudden reappearance, you were slow to pick your phone up. The battery had finally given in; you couldn’t tell what time it was. Both girls noticed this and were about to pull their own electronics out, but Jungkook reacted first.

“It’s four-thirty,” he said helpfully. “The bar is closing soon.”

“Oh.” You nodded. “Yeah. The bus is leaving in an hour, probably. Where’s the rest of your posse?”

“They already left,” he said without a further comment. Instead, he asked, “actually, can I talk to you for a second before I go?”

You looked back at your friends—both of them gave you permissive nods with grins that might’ve made the Cheshire Cat run away in shame.

“Sure,” you told Jungkook and turned your head away from your friends as if you could pretend you hadn’t seen their teasing smiles—that only made them giggle more.

The two of you walked towards the nearly empty bar—reasonable people were asleep this early in the morning—which wasn’t very far from your booth, but you figured the music played loud enough to drown your conversation out.

“So, um,” Jungkook began slowly—awkwardly—as he leaned his elbow against the bar top. “How are you feeling after the trip and… everything?”

There was something endearing about the uncertainty with which he’d asked you this. Pursing your lips lightly to hide your smile, you said, “it should be me asking you that.”

“It’s not. I’m the one asking,” he said so matter-of-factly that your smile only widened. He added, “I’m fine anyway.”

“I’m okay, too,” you said. “Tired to the point of taking a nap right on this bar, but other than that, I’m fine.”

He glanced at the bar after you’d mentioned it—as if assessing if it’d be a comfortable enough place to sleep on.

“Will you, um—will you be okay going back?” he asked then.

Your smile was plain and obvious now; hiding it required too much effort. Maybe the drinks Maggie got you were laced with something.

“It should be me asking you that, too,” you said.

“I’ll be perfect,” he replied, waving his hand around dismissively. “But I can, uh, stay back,” he looked at your friends over his shoulder—you noticed them both turn away, having been caught staring. “But I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh, yeah, no,” you agreed, your eyes still locked on the girls. “Maggie has a strict no-boys rule.”

You weren’t sure if she heard you or if her sudden snickering was unrelated to your comment.

“Oh?” this seemed to pique his interest. “Are you going to get in trouble now?”

“Probably,” you said casually enough. Trouble with Maggie usually meant more drinks, so you weren’t particularly worried. “She might already have a penalty for me.”

Despite you making it sound like this wasn’t the first time a boy interrupted your girls’ night to talk to you, Jungkook felt himself smile—he was the boy you’d broken Maggie’s rule for tonight.

“Because of me?” he still asked, a noticeable sense of entitlement behind his words.

“Don’t get excited.”

He snorted. “What’s the penalty? I’ll do it for you.”

“I’ll do it myself,” you said with a sigh as you extended your hands and laid your head on the bartop. “But some other night. I’m shutting down now.” You noticed the flash of concern in his eyes after you’d said that and added, “I’ll be fine. We’ll be heading back soon anyway. Get back to your friends.”

Your last sentence made him pause.

“That’s—” he stopped for another moment to mentally rewind through all the years that he’s known you. “That’s probably the first time you said that.”

You shrugged, having just enough energy to tease, “I trust Minjun.”

“Minju—but not me?” he questioned, offended.

“I’m working on it.”

“Well, how do I speed that up, then?”

“You can’t.”

He watched you for a minute, analysing your face for a possible option. He offered, “another trip to Paris?”

You knew he was joking, but you still grunted in refusal—that only made his teasing smirk widen.

“That’ll do the opposite,” you said. “I’m not going off-tour again. Look what happened tonight.”

You weren’t completely serious, but you couldn’t help but still feel uncomfortable that you had the leisure to travel Europe and drink with your friends, while the rest of the staff had to struggle with a stage set that was, apparently, falling apart.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if you genuinely blamed yourself or if this was just an illustrative exaggeration—your tired face was hard to read.

“Our trip to Paris is unrelated to what happened with the stage tonight,” he assured you in any case.

“Related or not,” you said and yawned mid-word, “now I can’t get proper sleep.”

His reaction was immediate—with one hand on your palm that you’d rested on the bar top, and another one on your waist, he encouraged, “come on, then. I’ll take you back to the bus. Let’s sleep.”

You were tempted—not just because his touch was warm and soft, but also because the thought of sleep seemed so satisfying right now that even the music in the bar faded into the background.

Still, you resisted, “the girls—”

“We’re fine!” Luna hollered; her glass raised. She was already tipsy and, obviously, had been waiting for an opening to give you permission to leave. “Maggie and I are going to stay back a while.”

You lifted your head to look at your friends again and caught them both smirking at you. They had seemingly overheard the entirety of your conversation, never mind the music.

“The bar closes in half an hour,” you reminded them with a frown. Jungkook’s hands were still on you—more supportive than before as soon as he felt the gentle sway of your tired body.

“We’ll find a way to keep ourselves busy until it’s time to leave,” Maggie added—which surprised you. Normally, it was the three of you against anyone who dared to interrupt your night. “You two can go ahead.”

You turned to Jungkook, who nodded at the door and seemed to make this decision for you. You really needed that today and you were quite unashamed about it; if anything, you appreciated everyone else deciding what you’d do for once.

You stood up properly and took a step away from him—he had to let go and did so reluctantly—to pick up your phone and your handbag from the booth. Your friends watched you, beaming, and you caught yourself before you began to smile, too.

Then, you allowed Jungkook to take you back to the bus.

It wasn’t a long walk, but you felt too drained to even take your shoes off when you got back. Plugging your phone in to charge, you laid down on your bunk, still in your clothes, and looked over at Jungkook.

Stubbornly, he refused to go to sleep until he was sure you were settled, so he was leaning against the partition wall between the opposite row of bunks.

“I’m still waiting until my phone will charge some,” you said, trying to make him reconsider. You paused to yawn again, then explained, “so I can check on the rest of our staff.”

“I’ll wait with you, then,” he said.

“No,” your firm voice got him to stop unexpectedly—he was already approaching you. “You hadn’t gotten any sleep, either. And you performed a whole gig tonight. Go to sleep.”

He resumed his journey and took a seat next to you on your bunk. “I’ll wait.”

You rolled over on your back to look at him. “You literally don’t have to do that.”

“And I’ll do it anyway.”

You exhaled, far too tired to argue about this. Your eyes could barely stay open enough to make sure he really was sitting on your bunk, and you hadn’t just dreamt him—the possibility wasn’t far-fetched, after all. It’s happened before.

“You shouldn’t,” you said softly, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m an adult, right? You said so,” he reminded you. You were worried that your words at the wedding would come back to bite you. “So, I can stay up waiting with you if I want.”

You sighed in response, your mind refusing to think of any more arguments or questions about why he found it necessary to bother waiting with you.

Satisfied, Jungkook scooted deeper into your bunk and crossed his legs, getting more comfortable.

He did as he’d promised—waited with you until your phone charged enough to make a phone call. Then he brought you water, because you called Seokjin and couldn’t say a word, your throat too dry to speak.

And then, half an hour later, when you were already asleep and he was sure you wouldn’t remember, he pulled your duvet over your body—so you wouldn’t get cold—and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to your forehead—so he wouldn’t, either.

chapter title credits: palaye royale, “toxic in you”

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

“CHIAROSCURO” was very well-written! May I request a oneshot of Yuji Itadori within the recent manga chapters? Instead of Choso, the one to protect him from Furnace was the reader, and they have a final “date” in a innate domain of sorts and say their goodbyes before the reader is burned to nothing. Have a good day! 💝

── 1800 DEGREES

Synopsis: By some miracle, you are granted the gift of saying goodbye to Yuji Itadori, one last time.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Itadori x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.0k

Content Warnings: jjk spoilers, angst, character death, nobara is dead fr in this, lots of talk about heat (literally not erotically), reader and yuji’s history is left very vague

A/N: it’s actually criminal how long this has been in my inbox omg i’m so sorry!! but i’m glad you liked chiaroscuro anon and i love your mind for angst HEHE i hope this fits what you were going for!! sorry again that it took a bit 😫 also 1800 degrees fahrenheit is the highest temperature that a typical crematorium’s ovens will be set at so uh reference ig 😓 if you were wondering why the title is so odd

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It was hot — unbearably so. You could not even sweat, it was that level of scalding, and you knew that within a few moments, you would lose any ability to think, to reason or feel. That meant you had to act now and act quickly, before you lost your final hope at anything resembling a victory.

Yuji, dear Yuji. You had to protect him; it was the only thing you knew, the only thing you could concentrate on as the flames of Sukuna’s Domain licked closer towards you. You could not falter nor flinch. You could only think of him, though this, at least, was nothing difficult — because so many of your thoughts had been occupied by his presence throughout the past year that it was all but a habit at this point for your mind to linger on him.

He was shouting at you. He must’ve been, though you were hardly and dimly aware of it. He never raised his voice at you, but all rules had their exceptions, and this was one such exception, one such circumstance in which even the mild-mannered Yuji Itadori could be driven to screaming at you. 

Only your technique could do it. No other would be of sufficient strength to protect against Sukuna’s fire, but this immense power came with a cost: it could only save one person. That was it. You could only save one person, and every other time you had been selfish and saved yourself, but not today. Today, when you cast that barrier, whose summoning was as learned as it was innate, the shimmering wall did not form around you but, for the first time, sprang up around another person entirely.

You wanted to look at him. You didn’t want to confront Sukuna and give him that satisfaction, and neither were you brave enough to stare at your impending doom with your shoulders squared and your head held high. Instead, you turned your back to it and kept your eyes firmly locked on Yuji’s, smiling in the face of his horror, trying to reassure him with your gaze if not your words that this was your decision, that he was the one who had to do it, because nobody else could. Because you could not, certainly you could not. This was the last thing you could offer him.

Reaching out your hand, you pressed it to the barrier, your fingers splaying against the cursed energy, which had coalesced into a form as solid as diamond. There, you waited, as his muscles trembled, as he shook his head, over and over in a firm denial, his mouth moving like he was rejecting what was happening though it was out of his power to do so. His hand moved despite his stubborn insistence, resting opposite yours in a clear farewell, forehead slamming against the barrier as he tried fruitlessly to get to you.

You wished that, in these final moments, there was not this wall between you. You wished that, if you had to leave him forever, you could hold onto him one last time. You wished that you could say goodbye, properly instead of through this impenetrable barrier.

Then a sensation engulfed you, warm and strong, not burning and anguishing as you had expected. It took you a moment to realize that you were longer in Sukuna’s Domain but instead in a different location, a sweet-smelling meadow dappled with sunlight and wildflowers, and that sensation which you still felt was the tenderness of Yuji’s embrace.

You wanted to ask him: where are we? How is this happening? Is it even real? Are you real? Have these past few months been nothing but a nightmare, and is this then the truth? But all you could do was sniffle, burying your face in his shoulder, pulling yourself closer to his chest and clutching onto him as tightly as you could.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking, one of his hands traveling up from your waist to the nape of your neck, clinging to you as tears welled in your eyes and splashed onto his skin. “Y/N, I—”

“I’m frightened,” you said. “Don’t speak about it. I’m very frightened, and I don’t want to — I don’t want to think about it or talk about it or anything. By some miracle, I have been given this last chance to see you, and I don’t want to ruin it by being frightened.”

His nose pressed against your cheek as he inclined his head, a small, choked sound escaping from him. Besides that, he was silent for a while, and then: “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“I didn’t hear it,” you said.

“I still did it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you,” you said, trying to laugh as best as you could. “Just barely.”

He let you go, though now his hands came to rest on your shoulders, and he was so gentle even when you knew he was falling apart that it brought tears to your eyes anew. You raised your own hand up so that it could trace against the scar by his lip, and he let out a shuddery, achy sigh.

“Is that the only thing you forgive me for?” he said.

“It’s the only thing that bears forgiving,” you said. “Nothing else you’ve ever done is something you should apologize for, so what more could I forgive? Let’s sit.”

Now that you were less bewildered, you took the time to take in your surroundings properly. The clearing you were in was composed more of white and pink than green, a carpet of blooms in many heights sprawling out until they hit the surrounding trees, whose branches arced up towards the sky like they were protecting the two of you. Somewhere in the distance, a creek bubbled happily, but that was the only sound, besides the breeze and Yuji’s soft breathing.

You leaned against Yuji’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as he nervously picked flowers, his fingers ever needing to remain busy, a companion to his racing mind. 

“This is the last time I’ll see you, isn’t it?” he said, the rise and fall of his chest growing progressively quicker. “Because you…you know. It’s goodbye forever, isn’t it?”

“We’re luckier than most,” you said. “At least we get to say goodbye in the first place.”

“Not that lucky,” he said. “We still have to say goodbye, so how can we be lucky?”

“I never said lucky. Just that some people don’t get to say goodbye at all,” you said. “And here we are in such a wonderful place to get to do it.”

“Do you think it’s real?” he said.

“I should be asking you that,” you said. “Is this a trick being played by my mind? Or are we here together? For me it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help hoping that it’s real, or at least that you are. I want you to remember, too.”

“I’ll remember,” he said. “I’ll never forget it. Until the day I die, I’ll remember this. Remember you.”

“If you ever get married and have kids one day, will you tell them about me?” you said. “Not in the sense that you loved me before their mother, or more than her, or anything like that. Just that we were friends, and I saved your life once or twice.”

“We’re not friends, though,” he said.

“No, I suppose we’re not,” you said. 

He nudged you in the side. You peered up at him, his shimmering eyes and the way his nose scrunched so that he could attempt to appear happy, and you raised your eyebrows. He lifted a garland of flowers up, like he was asking for your permission, and when you nodded he set it atop your head like a crown.

“You look like a princess,” he said. “So pretty.”

“I’m relying on you,” you said. “I can’t see myself, so if I look like a fool, then you have to be honest and say as much.”

“I’m telling the truth,” he said. “You’re as beautiful as the day we met. Or even more. I don’t know.”

“I want to go back to that day,” you said. “Go back and relive the past few months in an endless loop, just so I could meet you every time.”

“Even with everything else that happened?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “Even with everything else that happened. I’d suffer it again and again, just to experience the day I first saw you once more.”

He held your face still with his roughened hands, leaning down and pressing his lips against your own. You sought him out, your hands running through his hair, his rubbing against your jaw, the heat of his mouth different and yet so similar to the way you knew the fire of your death would feel. But this was a fire and a death you could choose, would choose, over and over until there was nothing left of you to burn away.

“It’s not fair,” he said when he pulled away. “Why do you have to leave? Why are you leaving me?”

“I just have to,” you said, fanning yourself as the sun beat down hotter than before. Yuji seemed unaffected, cocking his head at you for the odd behavior, but you only shrugged.

“Why can’t I go with you?” he said.

“You have to stay and protect the rest of the world,” you said. His brow furrowed, and you knew it was the same conflict that warred in him eternally springing to life once again. You did not want for him to be conflicted, though. He could not afford to be, not when everything was resting on his shoulders. “Yuji. Yuji, I’m so hot. Why aren’t you sweating? Why don’t you feel it?”

“What are you talking about?” he said in alarm. You stood, panting, pacing around to dissipate the blistering feeling crawling on your skin. “It’s the same temperature as before. It’s nice out, Y/N. Why are you acting like this?”

But it was not nice anymore, it was like you had been submerged in a vat of boiling water. Walking through the air felt like swimming, and in the corner of your vision, you saw something shimmer. It was a shade of red that you had not seen in so long; unbidden and despite your enduring discomfort, you grinned.

“Yuji,” you breathed. “Yuji, she’s here. It’s Kugisaki!”

“Where?” he said, head whipping about. You pointed at the visage of the girl, who was standing and waiting at the edge of the clearing, her hands folded behind her back and a placid smile on her face. “There’s no one there. Y/N, Y/N, please stop, there’s no one there…”

“She’s there,” you repeated, trying to tug him to his feet and finding that he was stuck by some invisible force. “She’s there.”

“Stop!” he said as you backed away, making his own effort to stand but finding himself unable to. You walked towards where Kugisaki was waiting for you, leaving the struggling Yuji behind. “Y/N, stop! Wait! Just one more minute, just give me that much!”

You turned to look at him one final time. He was reaching out for you, but you knew without really knowing how you did that it was futile. At least for now, he could not reach you. Kugisaki was beckoning you to a place that Yuji could not follow, a place that you did not even want him to.

He shook his head at you, one last, desperate effort that even he must’ve known was doomed to failure. “Please.”

You smiled at him. “Let’s not meet for a while, Yuji. Think about me every now and then, won’t you?”

With that, you took Kugisaki’s hand and allowed her to drag you somewhere far away, where you would never again know pain and the air was cool instead of searing, where you would wait until enough years had passed that you could see Yuji Itadori again.

[tariah23]

im back to say after reading your tags/ramblings on this new jjk chapter yeah everyone shitting on shoko and yuta for this are like? how.

especially with shoko (as you know i think about her a lot) i'm not surprised she reacted this way considering she has seen all of her friends die basically and she definitely deals with dead sorcerers on the daily that she probably knew in life considering she's the main healer. in my headcanons she recognizes a lot of the people who eventually end up dead on her exam table.

plus as you mentioned her reaction to geto's mass murder is super chill. she was never going to have a breakdown over fucked up shit? at least not outwardly, unfortunately we don't really get a look in her head. also god forbid a woman have interest in dead/macabre things and/or not give 110% emotionally at all times.

personally i enjoy satosugu (insert multishipper nuance here) but the fandom surrounding the ship is very...... can you think about any other character? please??? can you also see satoru and suguru as individuals???? PLEASE?

the manga is not your satosugu fanfiction there are other characters here that matter...

IT’S SO BAD!!! THEY ARE ACTING LIKE HIS STUDENTS AND FRIENDS WANTED THIS!?!! And are refusing to look at the story from a narrative standpoint outside of shipper/fanon shit… They do this literally every time something huge and awful happens. They always end up making it about a damn ship, completely glossing over the characters themselves and their intentions. It’s so frustrating. The Gojo and Getou they talk about is barely even them… those are OC’s!!!

And the only reason why they’re talking so negatively about Shoko is because they hate women 🗣️🗣️🗣️!!! It’s crazy, she’s literally a doctor who specializes in the dead. She’s a mortician!!! Like, you’ve stated, she’s been burying her colleagues and friends since she was a teenager. I’m sure she’s used to the business now. Even if it’s hard, if you’re in this line of work, people who work with the dead tend to not find it as torturous and haunting as any normal person would because death is an extension of life. They don’t view death as this big, scary, horrible thing they way people who don’t work with the dead/aren’t used to dealing with death, are. That’s why in rl, morticians and doctors might come off as extremely fickle and end uncomfortably nonchalant regarding death. They don’t view dying and the dead in the same way we would. They find comfort in knowing that they can help the grieving pass on the best way that they can by taking care of their bodies in their most vulnerable moments on earth. It would’ve been nice to see more of Shoko’s reactions and knowing about more of her feelings regarding Gojo’s passing because like I’ve stated before, Gege really fumbled her character and because of the way he wrote her, it makes it easier for fans who already don’t care about her, to mischaracterize and misunderstand her intentions, labeling them as “callous,” and “inconsiderate,” despite her having always been this way since the very beginning. She didn’t even so much as flinch when Getou had confirmed to her that he’d committed a massacre, killing over 100 people in the process. They were talking so casually as if they were talking about the weather. She had to fix up Haibara, probably one of their very first friends who she’d most likely ever had to work on… it’s just, I hate how the people bashing her really DON’T understand her character at all and have never once tried to and they’re constantly proving my point. They expected her to be sobbing in every panel, grabbing onto Gojo’s tight…, Sexy ass, black t-shirt, holding on for dear life and screaming at him to wake up and they absolutely HATE that a female character wouldn’t give that to them 🚶🏾‍♀️. I’m so sorry Shoko… they’re acting like Getou would’ve been the only one to feel bad about all of this simply because they ship them and forgot all about canon.

As for Yuuta… oh brother. The fact that all of Gojo’s students do care about him and have always admired him… Yuuta didn’t want this at all… but he knew that he HAD to do it in the end and so did the others. Knowing the kind of trauma that he’d suffered himself. The pain and isolation that he had to deal with because he was too afraid of hurting people so he pushed them away and purposely isolated himself. He’s canonically tried to take his own life on multiple occasions. After meeting Gojo, he learned that he had just as much as a right to live as anyone else and that he mattered. He chose life. Gojo, alongside the friends he’d made, made a huge impression on him and it makes me happy whenever I think about it. He used his strength to protect others and learned to see his strength as a good thing instead of a curse that separated him from society. Gojo already knows what it’s like to be lonely and lived with that till the very end. But he made sure to let his students know that they all were worth living. This is literally why he wanted to become a teacher in the first place!!! Have the fans forgotten just how much he adores his students!?!! Yuuta knew exactly how Gojo must’ve felt… even taking over his body, he didn’t need to view his memories to find out.

Even if it is, from a narrative standpoint, incredibly disgusting, Gojo gave them permission because he values the lives of the people he cares about, especially the kids (ppl always forget that he loves children 😭… he’s do anything for them), above his own. When it comes to the kids, he knows that he’s the adult in the situation. Just like Nanami, it’s the adults duty to protect the children and he feels the same way. His corpse gave them a way to fight back and he gladly gave it to them as sad as this might sound… He’s always been this way and we all know why. Come on. He’d always seen it as his duty to protect and shield them from the horrors of the real world that would soon hurt them back. I hate that he’s still being used as a weapon in his death so much, it really makes me want to cry, I could barely sleep 😭… but man…, whenever stuff like this happens, it just goes to show that not everyone was reading the story with their eyes open. Blame it on shipper brainrot.

[missingn000]

I have a question about something that happen in the most recent chapter. Was the reason Mahito was shocked about kenjaku did due to fact he couldn’t understand why some one would just kill their own flesh and blood or was it something else? He is learning about families via watching the jjk gang.

oh, this is actually something a few people have mentioned so i’m glad i can clarify. i think it wasn’t the cruelty of kenjaku killing his own kids that shocked mahito. though he has more depth in tpg, mahito is still mahito — he is still a cruel and sadistic curse who revels in causing pain, so he wasn’t particularly affected by that. part of his flinch was how unexpected it was, since mahito prides himself in understanding human emotions. another source of shock was the lack of logic and consistency with kenjaku’s plans, seeing someone who claims to be so emotionless and rational do something so unabashedly cruel to one of his minions.

because of kenjaku’s underlings, we know there’s one mahito actually does care about. the thought of hajime being the target of one of kenjaku’s cruel outbursts was the main source of mahito’s reaction.

and further, as for kashimo’s reaction: senseless violence disgusts them not for the unfairness, but for the dishonor (as i talked about in another post…i’ll find it when i get home from work). they refuse to engage in honorless fights where their opponents won’t fight back (remember how disgusted they were when kenjaku asked them to kill the star religious group on yuujis tenth birthday) and they don’t randomly kill for no reason at all, but they’re not really against it.

as much as i want to explore the depths and redeeming qualities of pfpk, they still are who they are at their cores, even if those cores are changing because of each other. mahito is a curse who revels in cruelty and kashimo values fighting above all else. those perspectives are starting to change with each other as exceptions, but that’s just it: they’re the only exceptions as it currently stands.

kashimo is starting to face more humanity after being exposed to mahito — you see this in their disgusted reaction to kenjaku’s actions in 46, though it’s also because there’s nothing more honorless than killing defenseless babies. they’ll also have a very strong reaction to learning sukuna’s backstory. but for someone theyre not invested in like choso, it just isn’t a compassion thing.

that part of their characterization (and mahito’s) is really important to me, actually. each character has their own way of viewing morality and exercising compassion, and not all individuals will receive it equally, if at all. these characters are challenged and changed by their interactions with each other, but there’s still a consistency in their characterization as well.

[lokissweater]

omg my dream has always been to live in a cottage w u and picking mushrooms to make a stew for wifey 🫵😣💞 BUT UR ABSOLUTELY RIGHT ABT IF HE WANTED TO HE WOULD TYPE VIBES bc that’s hot, like YOU thought of that? WITHOUT ME TELLING U TO TOO 😻😻😻

girl I’ve had a talking stage that ended badly bc bro is emotionally immature but he’s not over me, and it’s been 5ish months since we last talked??? (I thought I was delusional) but he’d always jump into this ONE topic every time I’m near him—he’s also loud in class too and he would not even talk abt this topic if I’m not there (unfortunately we have the same classes in this semester) to make me jealous??? But I’m like bro……. Why would I be jealous of ur immature ass when I have a wife at home that writes like an angel descended from heaven herself and my 2D men to satiate me 🫵😻 like unless ur 6’2” white haired with blue orbs for eyes, don’t talk to me 🎀🎀🎀 (bro literally flinched backward when I walked past him like he did not go near me first… please…)

ANYWAYS BOY TALK OVER, I WANNA GIVE READER BESTIE TONS OF SMOOCHES PLSSSS 🫵😣 and they’ve known each other for so long??? That’s the cutest thing ever omgogmg ik damn well if gumi upsets reader, bestie would swoop in and be mrs steal yo girl and will be on his ass for fumbling reader (but I have mega trust that he wouldn’t do that, he literally worships the ground she walks on as he should, bare minimum guys 🫦🫦🫦)

since u said BJ gumi will be a thing, lemme share another freak crumb… let’s say gumi was watching reader get ready for tryouts… she was putting on lip gloss… and what if he uses the tip of his saber to smear another special lip gloss for reader… WHAT WHO SAID THAT 🤨🤨🤨

on a side note, I’ve collected 2 vers of mr blue eyes, a yuta nendo!! (I got him for $30!! My friend bought 2 of those lucky draws from new years good smile deal thing, AND SHE GOT YUTA??? SHE KNEW I LOVED JJK SO I BOUGHT IT OFF FROM HER FOR $30 😖🫶 ) and kuroo from Haikyuu + Karma from AssClass (I was waiting for a nendo of him for YEARS; I sent in a request to GSC to make one and they did for 10th anniversary 🫣) next on my list, I’d love to collect megumi+toge (bc of you, I grew to love them even more 🥹💞) I hope to see you post pics of ur sora and gumi hehe 😻😻🫶🫶 LOVE U LOTS AND STAY WARM ML 💞💞💞

Ps. I SAW U TALK ABT XAV FROM LND?? DO U PLAYYY… heh

- 🎀

NO BECAUSE LITERALLY !!!!! i’m not about to tell you MAN … tell me to get down on my knees and shut me up with your glow stick 🤨🤨🤨 quick 🤨🤨

IM FUCKING DEEEAAAADDDD WHAT A MOOORRROOONNNN !!! ABSOLUTELY THE FAWKKKK NAAAWWWWTTTT !!! ofc he’s not over you you are literally the definition of a baddie him being in SHAMBLES IS A GIVEN !! AND FUCKING LET. HIM. let that man suffer because your blue eyed honored one would NEEEEEEVVVUUURRRRR do that shit to you so actually dont settle for less and LET HIM BE FUCKING STUPID ! AND LMFOAAOAOOAOA YOU ARE SO FUNNYYYY AND LITERALLY bc i write strictly for yall and yall only i will continue to pump out these juicy 2D men that are RESPECTFUL so we can reflect this in the irl 😻😻

AND AAAACCTUALLLYYYYYY readers best friend HAS AND WILLLL !!! she literally watches him like a hawk to make sure he’s not effing up and hurting miss pretty little reader, which ofc is a rare occurrence 😻😻 but she WILL turn and BAAARRKKK if there so even is a sniff of reader upset over mlb!megumi and i live by that.

but alas… gumi can be rest assured !!!!! cause he’d rather burn in hell than run the risk of reader leaving him 🫦🫦🫦 i’m wet.

MY BABY BLUE BOWS I LOOOVEEEE YOUR FREAKY MIND SO FUCKING MUCH ITS NOT EVEEENNNN FUUUUNNNYYYYYYY !!!! THE WAY I JUMPED UP AND DOWN AND SCREAMED AND IVE COME HERE TO SAY CONGRATULATIONS !!! IM ADDING THIS IN THE FAWKING FIIIICCCCC !!! BABEUFHSIBSJS and then he’s making reader lick it all up after— BIIIITTTTCCCCHHHHHH—

AND OMGGGG WTFFF YOUR NENDO LINE UP IS SOOOO COOOOLLLLL 😭😭😭 W FOR YUTA THAT IS SUCH A STEEAALL !! and GSC is actually so in love with you and obsessed with you for that bro AND LET ME TELL YOU that i know for a FACT sir hollow purple is working up in those headquarters, saw your email, looked you up on linkedin, fell in love, and pitched in the idea just to see you happy he literally told me himself 😻 no i will not be taking further questions 😻

AHHHH I WILL I WILL I FUCKING ORDERED MORE BFIDBSJS SO IM GONNA WAIT UNTIL I GET THEM ALL AND PUT THEM ON MY CUTE LIL WEEB SHELF TO SHOW YALL 🫦🫦💕💕💕

i ADDOOOREEE YOU MWAH MWAH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING 🥹🥹💕💕💕 PLS STAY NICE AND TOASTY AND HEALTHY FOR ME OR I WILL ACTUALLY START SCRATCHING MY SKIN AWWWFF !!!

and YESSS I DOO THOUGH ITS BEEN A FAT MINUTE !!! … xavier makes me go into cardiac arrest 💕💕

I LOVE YOU !!

[mooningningg]

HELLO I READ TOUR JJK FLINCHING IJ AN ARGUMENT AND I LOVED IT I WAS WONDERIJF IF YOU COULD WRITE ONE FOR CHILDE AND AYATO AND DILUC FEED ME ANGST PLS

You’re afraid of me? II.

—In which genshin men reacts to you flinching during an argument.

childe, ayato, and diluc, (f).

genres + warnings. angst to fluff? | just a lot of strong words! |

notes i. absolutely love the anon who requested one for genshin men, I didn’t even think about doing that.

childe. You both came into a different agreement, you were both fighting over how one of the waiters in a restaurant you went to was flirting with you and you assured your boyfriend that he was far from doing that, you told him it was a friendly gesture from the waiter, but Childe being himself he refused to believe it, he knows what e saw and he tells himself you were blinded by your own nativity.

“Are we really gonna fight over this?” You ask with a sigh, tucking a strand behind your ear as Childe’s aura began to scare you, he was genuinely angry and you began to overthink.

“We’re not fighting, Y/n. I’m simply just asking you to be more aware of people’s intentions with you.” He says, his tone bold and angry, you sighed.

“You’re overreacting you know? He was being friendly, it was his job to make us comfortable.” You protest with his words and he scoffs, he wasn’t angry at you, he can never be, he was angry at your obliviousness.

“So you’re admitting you were comfortable with him flirting with you?” Childe twists your words with a different statement.

“He wasn’t flirting with me!” Now you were the one to first yell, he was being stubborn and your words seemed to not go through his ear throughly and you hate it.

“Well if he wasn’t then why was he undressing you with his eyes?” Childe says back his tone raising a little and you slightly feel yourself becoming small.

It was silent for a quick moment, Childe brings a hand to bring to his forehead and massage his temples when you made a mistake by flinching, thinking he had raised his hand to slap you.

Both of you froze, your movements halting. Childe’s eyes began to soften instantly and you hung your head down in shame.

“Baby...” he calls softly, it was your mistake and him feeling bad about it itches your stomach.

“ ‘m sorry, I really am sorry.” You say as guilt began to overcome you and before you knew it, your crying was audible and his body weakens at the sound, Childe’s arms wrapped around you securely.

“I won’t hurt you, you know that right? I would never do that to you.” He assures you, running his hand to smooth your hair as you sobbed on his chest.

ayato. “You can’t just run out like that again Y/n!” Ayato’s usual calm composure was overwritten by his frustration as he only looks at you with a glare, your usual soft and gentle Ayato now gone in a blur, you feel your hands slightly shaking and you hide it by shielding it away using the sleeves of your kimono.

“I was suppose to buy you a gif—“ you attempt to say, trying to at least calm him down by showing him the things you bought for him but expression doesn’t soften, it only tenses even more.

“Then you could’ve bought company with you! You are always so stubborn.” He says, he can’t help but to worry about you, he was angry at himself but it seems like he was venting it out on you and he knows it’s wrong but he just can’t help it.

You shift in your position, wanting the ground to swallow you up whole as you felt tears building at your line of sight and you lower your head down to not let him see you.

“Look at me.” He commands, this wasn’t Ayato, “Look at me!”

Without realizing it your body flinches, his loud voice echoes through out the corners of the room and the tear that was threatening to fall down from your eyes finally did just that, your hands shaking uncontrollably at Ayato’s genuine anger.

You don’t see it, but his face instantly falls when he notices how scared you were from him.

“Y/n...” he calls out softly, the Ayato you knew finally came back and you slowly look up at him, his eyes began to soften and worry covers his face.

“My apologies, I was going to far with my words... and tone.” He finally realizes, his voice now becoming gentle and composed. He began to approach you slowly and you were rooted in your spot so you didn’t move, just letting your tears flow.

“Are you afraid of me?” He asks, he brings his hand to caress your cheek and you didn’t flinch at all, you became comfortable since this Ayato wasn’t foreign.

“I... yes, a little bit but I was only afraid because you were angry at me.” You say, surprised that you even managed to make out a proper sentence.

“Archons, forgive me my love.” He says under his breath, he lets his forehead touch yours as you both relax in the company with each other, “I don’t ever want to see you afraid of me again.”

diluc. “Diluc, you got home late again.” You say softly, entering the kitchen you crossed your arms in front of your chest as you watch while your husband pours himself water on a cup of glass, his back facing you. You both stood in the kitchen in a Godly hour. You know this was going to result in another argument cause this situation between Diluc and you about him coming home late and going to work early was rather an often encounter.

“I’m tired, go back to bed.” He says, his voice tells you he was indeed tired and did not want to deal with anyone at the moment.

But you being you, you were stubborn. He was beginning to neglect you and you felt so sorry for yourself and to him, he needed rest from his work, “Please, can we just talk about this? You are draining yourself with work.”

“There is nothing to talk about, I am tired and I do not need to quarrel with you right now.” The red head finally turns his body around to face you, his eyes glaring into yours and you feel yourself shifting in your position.

“Well do not get angry.” You say, looking at him with a frown, Diluc rolls his eyes slightly.

“I am not angry.” He protests before taking a big sip on is cup of water.

“You’re angry, and bothered. Look at you, you are downright flushed!” You exclaims, bringing a hand to run through your soft hair as you feel yourself getting frustrated and so did Diluc.

“That’s what happens.” His tone now got a little bit stronger and bolder and also louder. You watch with your tears beginning to form as he slowly walks over to the table that separates the both of you.

“When one is angry.” You finish his words and he can’t be even more annoyed by how you accused him about being angry.

“When one wants nothing but rest but his significant other can’t bring herself to understand that!” He yells, literally yells as he brings his cup of water down to the table with a loud noise and you flinch, out of instinct you flinch.

You breathe hard, your heart beating fast against your chest as you look at him as if he was crazy, he wasn’t gentle anymore and you became cautious.

Diluc eyes began to calm down when e saw your reaction, he removes his hand from the cup and stands up straight, “Apologies.”

One tear, one tear rolled down your eyes and it was enough for him to rush over to you and hold your hands in his,

he brings it close to his lips and kisses the back of it, you relaxed a little.

“I was a little overboard, was I not?” He asks with a sorry tone, his face flushing with concern and worry as you only looked down, not feeling like facing him at the moment.

Without noticing, Diluc had snaked his hand up to your cheeks to cup one side of it, and he takes the chance to lift it up to level your face with his, “Did I scare you?”

“Uh... a little.” You answered honestly.

Diluc sighs softly before bringing your face to rest against his chest and you relaxed, listening how his heart beats softly behind it, “I’m sorry, let’s talk calmly in the morning my love.”

“For now let us get some rest, I’m sure we both had a hard time.”

[sanjisblackasswife]

JJK Men When You Randomly Grab Their Tiddy (Black Fem! Reader)

A/N: I love Men’s tiddies.

Ft. Toji, Geto, Gojo

CW: Chaos and Gropping

Toji

I mean…who wouldn’t grab em

He’s constantly grabbing your titties so why not cop a feel yourself

However he thinks you’re just being horny and you have to let him know you didn’t mean it in a sexual way

He was laying on his back with no shirt on on your bed reading a pin up magazine and you felt like harassing him since it was his day off.

He doesn’t understand why you keep staring at him and gets a bit irritated.

“Come here.” His voice was low and raspy considering he was constantly tired on his off days. “What are you Doing, sweetheart?” He grabbed your hands to play with your fingers “Hm?”

You lost your train of thought until you felt his hand swat on your butt telling you to “pay attention “

You climbed on his lap to straddle him still looking at those huge GINANAMASOUROUS bazooongas he got

“I um…can I squeeze them?”

“What my balls?”

“No! Your boobies!”

“They’re not bo—-“

“Okay fine your chest i wanna squeeze em!”

He playfully rolls his eyes at you. Really? You’re watching him like a thief of the night and all you wanted to do was squeeze his TIDDIES?

“Okay…ah-!” He quickly grabbed your wrist, making you furrow your brows in confusion, “Gatta cockwarm me first.”

Your face went deadpanned. This horny mf—

“I’m still sore from this morning…”

“Quit lying I didn’t even go hard on you I was half sleep.”

“….fine. I’m not wet though—“

“Okay then sit on my face—-“

“ALL I WANNA DO IS GRAB YOUR TITS TOJI—“

Toji laughed seeing you so irritated with his demands. He of course wouldn’t let you do anything you didn’t want and enjoyed annoying you so he let go and threw his arms behind his head. “I’m just fucking with you…”

Your fake little pout quickly turned into a smile giving two big handful squeezes of his fluffy soft chest.

“Wow for a built guy you sure have soft tiddies.”

“Jealous?” He smirked at you, you glared at him with annoyance and pinched his nipple making him chuckle lowly wrapping his arms on your body dwarfing you into his chest. “Don’t you dare do that again.” Toji’s voice had a bit of playfulness in it as he warned you in your ear before peppering you with kisses.

Gojo

Mf wants YOU to squeeze em

He been working out a bit more and he just had to annoy somebody about it—somebody being you

“Look my boobs are almost as big as yours —feel!”

Mf will grab your hand and force you to grope him.

Eventually ends up making you rub his nipples with your fingers.

“Why are you like this.” Not giving him eye contact because you were so comfortable on the couch scrolling through TikTok with one hand now because the other was occupied touching your boyfriend’s chest.

“Commmonnnnnnn y/nnnnnnnn.” He snatched your phone making you cuss at him. He was smiling at you through his shades kneeling beside where you were laying completely shirtless. Most women would pounce at the opportunity of touching Gojo Satoru’s tits but you have been with him long enough to get accustomed to his crap.

“Just one squeeze! —-Like how I do your ass.”

“SATO!”

You groaned and adjusted yourself to get up looking at him tired like as your scarf was slipping off your head, he scooted closer in between your legs with his chest puffed out like a bird biting his lip in excitement. He really enjoyed having his tits played with.

You groped them and smirked. They did in fact get bigger.

“Why are they so round.” You flick his nipple making him snicker flinching holding his sensitive teets. “Mine aren’t even that perky.

“Aww Baby.” He pecked your pouty lips. “Your tits are Devine. Let me see em.”

“No!”

“Commonnnn you seen mine!”

“YOU MADE ME—?!”

Geto

“BACK WOMAN!”

“LET ME TOUCH THEM!”

“BACK I SAY—!”

Almost everyday after he finishes training, Geto dreads coming home because it’s like you have some kinda sweat kink the way you immediately wanna grope him when he comes back home sweaty

Moreso his tiddies

He knows you love grabbing his chest, he lets you do it a lot when you both cuddle but eventually you start to suck on his nipples as well and he’s just so sensitive there he can’t last too long when you do it so he tries to keep the Gropping to a minimum

But you’re nearing your cycle and you get very touchy and horny during this time

Geto and you were running around the entire house as you were like a dog in heat trying to catch a bone.

More like Geto’s bone.

But today his chest looked extra groppable. They looked so bouncy and squishy especially with his scar showing right in the middle of it.

You needed to squeeze em.

Right now. Geto was on one side of the dining room table and you were on the other breathing harshly after running up and down the stairs as if it were a game of tag.

“JUST LET ME TOUCH YOU!”

“NO YOU ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY WHEN YOU ARE LIKE THIS LET ME TAKE A SHOWER!”

“LET ME TAKE ONE WITH YOU—“

“UNHAND ME—”

He rushed out the dining room and you scurried right behind him. You got tired of his antic and started to get impatient so you did the most sane thing to do

You jumped on his back and you both fell.

Thank God you had long carpeted hallways because Geto probably would have had a broken nose the way he face planted on the floor.

“Y/N!” He rolled over on his back laughing completely giving up. He was so over you right now seeing you rub and press your hands against his sweaty chest, smiling at them like you found gold. “What is wrong with you?”

“I love your tiddies so much.”

“Yeah I know you do—-ah!” Geto croaked out a moan feeling you already latching your lips to his nipples.

Don’t worry he got back at you later.

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men react to different insecurities part 1

Pairings: Nanami x reader with facial scars (reqested by @ynackerman9499) Megumi x fem! reader with small breasts (requested by anon) Sukuna x reader with acne (requested by @sanicsmut)

Word Count: 2,9k

Warnings: if you feel triggered by any of those insecurities please don't read it, I'm writing this out of an insecure pov - there's nothing wrong with having scars, acne or small breasts okay 🤍 Hope y'all enjoy 🤍

Kento Nanami - facial scars

You look at yourself in the mirror, eyes already starting to sting in tears. Why? Why did it have to end like this? You were never a pity person, never worried too much about looks. But this, this is something completely different.

“Hey darling, are you okay?”

“Yeah…”, you mumble in response, shaky hand mindlessly dropping your toothbrush into the sink.

You hate the way you look, the way those ugly scars are now a part of your face that will never fade away. Even though you are lucky you even survived, even though all that counts for you is that your precious boyfriend is still around, you’ve been avoiding looking at your own self ever since, covering yourself with makeup and masks even around him.

Him. Kento Nanami. The light of your life, the best boyfriend you could ask for. He told you over and over how much he loves you, that he couldn’t care less about a few scars decorating your face. But ever since that fateful day, you hid yourself very well from him – so well that he hasn’t seen your face ever since.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”, a gentle voice behind you mumbles.

Before you are able to react, he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses your body against his large frame. Frantically, you cover your face with your hands, your mask laying on top of the shelf on the other side of the room. Fuck, why didn’t you lock the door as usual? How could you be so careless? If he gets to see you like this, a jaw-dropping gorgeous man like Kento…

Would he still love you after seeing you like this when you aren’t even able to accept yourself?

“Please stop hiding from me, (y/n). I know the last weeks were rough, that you are insecure about the scars the fight left on your face. But please, just let me look at you without makeup or that mask, let me finally see the love of my life again. You are too precious to not be looked at.”

“I’m not”, you cough out.

Don’t cry, don’t make it more embarrassing than it already is. You have always been so strong, so independent. Crying over something ridiculous like this doesn’t suit you at all. You know yourself that it’s stupid, hiding from the love of your life because of a few scars. But every time you look into the mirror, you see nothing but a crippled version of what you used to be, a shadow of the person Kento fell in love with.

You couldn’t take it. Over and over, you imagined how he’d stare at you with disgust creeping up his face, turning away from you and never coming back. No wonder, Kento is a very attractive man after all, women hitting on him every time both of you go out. But you…One single glimpse in the mirror is enough to make you shiver, to let a single tear fall down your eye.

You are far away from being attractive by now.

“I hate seeing you like this and it truly breaks my heart that I’m not able to see your gorgeous face anymore-“

“Because it’s not”, you scream so suddenly that he flinches.

“I look nothing like the person you fell in love with years ago! I-I’m nothing but a shadow of myself, Kento! If you see me like this, you…”

You can’t put it into words, the thought alone cutting through your heart like a knife through warm butter. He’s better off without you and you know it, he’d definitely be able to pull a nice partner for himself, one that doesn’t look as worn down as yourself. But your heart simply can’t take it, just thinking about him with someone else feels like dying from inside.

You can’t lose him. Even if it’s selfish.

“(y/n).”

Gently, he positions himself in front of you and grabs your face. You want to run away, want to hide your ugly scars from his gaze. But instead, you just stare at him blankly, tears rolling down your cheeks like a waterfall by now. Is this the moment, the moment he realizes that he doesn’t want to be with you anymore?

“Just like I expected. You look as breath-taking as you did back then. These scars show nothing but how strong you are, that you are able to survive everything. Why would you ever suggest that I’d leave you because of something like this? You are my treasure, my everything, (y/n). Wouldn’t you love me if I had scars all over my face?”

“Of course I would”, you sniff immediately.

Kento smiles down at you softy, placing a kiss on every little scar on your face while you cry your eyes out.

How? How do you even deserve a caring man like him, how is he still able to look at you with nothing but affection in his eyes?

“See? Now, put away those masks and your makeup and be proud of what you did, okay? You saved the lives of our first years. Never forget how strong you are.”

“I love you more than anything else, Kento”, you mumble before pressing your face against his firm chest and getting lost in his scent.

“I love you too, darling. Maybe even more with those scars.”

Megumi Fushiguro - small breasts

You watch in sheer disinterest as a random girl from another Jujutsu sorcerer school positions herself in front of you, her cheeky grin almost eating you up alive.

“And who are you?”

“I’m (y/n) and a student here at Jujutsu High”, you remark dryly, not interested the slightest in her cheeky tone.

From the outside, she definitely looks like a dream girl. Tall but not too tall, blonde but not too blonde, doe eyes but not too innocent. And not to mention, the big pair of cherries that seems to stare right through your soul.

Even though you know that you are a decent looking girl, this one thing about your body always made you feel insecure. Every damn day of puberty, you hoped for a miracle overnight, that your breast might eventually start growing. But of course, that never happened.

Instead, you seem to be stuck with small boobs until the end of time. And while it definitely has its advantages here and there, it always makes you feel bad about yourself when you see girls like her, girls who are blessed with those natural curves.

“What kind of woman is your type?”, you suddenly hear from afar, ears perking up just the slightest.

“I don’t know.”

You swallow. That voice you know all to well, the voice of bored Megumi Fushiguro. Who is he talking to? And why on earth does your heart start racing, waiting desperately for his response?

“Are you more like an ass or a boob guy?”

“As long as they have an unshakable character, I won’t ask for more.”

“I saw the way you blinked when I said boobs.”

“There’s nothing wrong with admitting the truth”, Yuji interjects.

“Even if I do, what’s the purpose of all these stupid questions!?”

Your heart sinks. Ever since you’ve joined Jujutsu High, you always had both eyes set on that gorgeous boy. And even though it always seemed a little ridiculous, you thought he even liked you back from time to time. How stupid it was to think that a boy like him would want a girl like you, how stupid to even consider you are his type. Aren’t all boys nowadays into big boobs or big butts?

To be honest, you have neither.

“Why are you looking at me so sad now? Oh, are you jealous? Don’t worry, not everyone has the right to be blessed by mother nature. You’ll find someone who loves you the way you are, though – looking like a stick.”

Her words. Her venomous words shouldn’t hit you with full force, her words shouldn’t make tears sting in the corners of your eyes.

But oh they do.

With a swift motion, you get up from the stairs you were sitting on, running up as fast as you can to avoid curious looks. Damn, how was a bitch like her able to make you feel this miserable, why does it even bother you this much that you have a smaller chest?

Because everyone around you doesn’t have this issue. Because it seems like you’re the only one who isn’t blessed. Even Nobara and Maki have bigger boobs than you, even though Maki is well-trained. Why do you have to look this way? And why…

Why isn’t this what Megumi wants?

“Have you seen her? That looked like (y/n) running into that room”, Megumi mutters, looking after you in confusion.

Why would you run into a storage room so rapidly? You almost looked sad, as if something hurt you. He clenches his fist, not even caring about Yuji’s answer anymore. Out of all people, you are the one who shouldn’t feel bad a single moment, whoever did this to you will-“

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

There you sit, back against the wall and your face in your hands, tears visibly running down your face. His heart almost stops. Megumi has never seen you cry, you were always the cool and composed one. What made you sit there, crying your eyes out?

“Don’t look at me”, you spit at him, turning away in an instant while hugging your knees.

Your words hit him with full force. Why did you sound so furious, did he do something wrong?

“But (y/n), I want to know what-“

“You’re not interested in my anyway, aren’t you?”

You know all too well how ridiculous and childish your words sound, but you can’t keep yourself together. All these months you roamed after him, thought you’d really stand a chance. And now…

And now Megumi Fushiguro isn’t into girls with small breasts?

“Why would you think that?”, he replies in an instant.

Instinctively, he rushes to your side, his mind racing. When did he ever give you the idea that he isn’t interested in you? Of course, he wasn’t exactly clear about it. After all, he himself was scared that you might not be interested in him and everything would turn out awkward after his confession. But did he really treat you this badly?

“Didn’t you say it yourself?”

The venomous tone of your voice makes him flinch. Even with your face puffy from all the tears and twisted in agony, you still look absolutely breath-taking. God, when did he mess up so bad? He can’t lose you like this, not when he doesn’t even know what happened-

“If you’re not attracted to girls with small breasts, I’m certainly not the one for you.”

Megumi has to blink a few times, mind trying to understand the words that just left your mouth. He, into girls with big breast? He, not into you? It doesn’t make any sense. You, the most wonderful girl walking on this earth? You with a body that makes his knees go weak in an instant? You, the girl he’s hopelessly in love with?

“What are you talking about? You are the only one I care about”, he clarifies before thinking twice.

Your heart skips a beat, eyes darting towards him in an instant. One look into his innocent orbs tells you that he isn’t just lying into your face, that he actually means what he just said. Does that mean…?

“B-but…Just a few moments ago, you said it yourself!”, you demand weakly.

“You mean my conversation with that guy from Kyoto? (y/n), I couldn’t care less about things like that. The only think that’s important for me is your character made of pure gold, okay? And also, I love your body the way it is. You look absolutely stunning. And your breast do too.”

In an instant, your cheeks turn bright red. Oh god, did he really just say that? Megumi wants to punch himself for his unfiltered words, for the fact that he clearly made you uncomfortable. Is there a way out of this misery?

“I-I mean…I think they look really good. You look really good. You don’t need big breasts for that. And I imagine small breast have their-“

“Please”, you interrupt him.

“I get it, but can we please stop talking about my boobs like that?”

Ryomen Sukuna - acne

“A pretty bad position you put yourself him, huh?”, the king of curses in front of you sneers.

Your hands fight desperately against the invisible chains, eyes searching for the tiniest possibility of a way out. But it’s impossible. After all, you aren’t held hostage by anyone. No, the man who’s sitting in front of you with his head resting in his hand is none other than Sukuna himself.

“Rather a position you put me in, idiot”, you bite back.

He chuckles unpromising, hand grabbing your chin before you’re even able to fight back. His eyes let your blood freeze in your veins, heart pumping so loudly that you bet he can hear it from afar.

“I don’t need to remind you that you’re here because you’re fighting for the wrong side, right?”

“The wrong side? Whose side is right, then?”

“Mine, of course.”

You snort disdainfully, yanking your chin out of his firm grasp. This guy has some nerves, talking down at you when you were out there enjoying yourself.

“I bet you’d fit well right by my side. You’re strong, you’re hot-“

“Don’t call me hot”, you interrupt immediately.

Out of instinct, you turn your face away from him. The face that makes you feel uncomfortable every time someone looks at it, the face that is responsible for multiple dumb comments you received when you were still at school. You know it’s a quite common thing. Many people fight against acne, some worse than you. But god, how much you hate to look at yourself, to see a new red spot on your face each and every day. No one at Jujutsu High ever pointed it out or looked at you in disgust. Yes, the times were people picked on you because of your acne are long gone.

But oh, their comments still haunt you, they still make you believe that you will never be able to be fully beautiful with those things covering your damn face.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

May the ground swallow you whole and get you out of this uncomfortable position. Why on earth does it have to be Sukuna who gets curious about you rejecting his compliment? Why can’t Yuji just regain the control over his body and put an end to your suffering?

“Because it’s a lie”, you press out.

Again, Sukuna gets a hold of your chin, his face now so near that you aren’t able to escape his stinging gaze anymore.

“Why are you saying that, brat?”

“Are you blind or something?”, you bark at him.

It feels like back then when your classmates used to pick on you. But this time, it isn’t a dumb kid that just wants to make fun of you. No, this time it’s actually the king of curses who toys with your insecurity, the only sore point you have about yourself.

“You may be. Because I don’t get why you’re talking down yourself like that.”

“Don’t you see that stuff covering my whole face?”

You can’t take it anymore, his intense staring paired with your own embarrassment. Within the last months, you really thought you got over the fact that your acne won’t go away that fast, that you’ll have to fight for it to disappear. And since no one ever mentioned it at Jujutsu High, you began to tolerate the red marks covering your skin. But at this moment, your sensitive confidence seems to shatter.

“And what about it? I don’t get what you’re talking about, brat”, Sukuna remarks dryly.

You blink a few times. The bored expression on his face tells you more than clearly that he isn’t making fun of you at all. Is it really possible that Ryomen Sukuna meant what he said, that he isn’t bothered about your face?

“I have acne all over my face”, you breathe out.

He rolls his eyes and shrugs his shoulders, hand moving your chin right and left.

“I don’t give zero fucks about that.”

It’s a simple answer, an answer spat in your face with disinterest. But oh does it make sparks fly around you and your heart almost beat out of your chest. The king of curses doesn’t care about acne.

The fucking king of curses called you hot despite your face is covered in red spots.

“I don’t know why anyone would care about shit like that. You’re strong and you’re hot, what about those spots?”, he continues while rolling his eyes.

“You really mean it”, you mutter more to yourself than him, a smile creeping up your face.

You feel like a little girl, the urge to giggle and jump up and down almost becoming unbearable. He really finds you hot. He really saw your face and lost not a single thought about your acne.

And he’s the king of curses.

“Why are you looking at me like that, brat? Did you forget that I kidnapped you?”

“Oh, you can kidnap me anytime”, you answer almost euphoric.

Sukuna tilts his head, eyes scanning you up and down.

“Humans really are strange.”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

[qissu]

JJK men and their turn ons and offs ⊹requested

a/n: I just want to apologize in advance, i don’t know what direction this post was heading in lol, some are short and some are long so sorry about that

cw: nsfw, too tired to add the rest

TOJI ⊹ ons

Goes crazy when your stretched across the bed in your underwear, caressing  your ankle before slowly moving up.

"Why are you always tempting me, did you forget I have no self control?"

His hands will work their way up, between your thighs, rubbing on your cellulite as he goes to pull down your underwear, massaging your ass.

 He'll leave love bites on each cheek, making them deep enough to make you gasp out. "Oh, don't make those sounds, I'll go feral."

Loves fucking you in your sleep

He has a somnophilia kink. Using your tired mouth to force it open with his dick, slow and deep strokes as his dick twitches in your mouth.

The sound of his dick squelching as your saliva lubes his dick up, hitting the back of your throat until he cums down it. Making sure you swallow his cum.

TOJI ⊹ offs

Doesn’t like pegging at all

Toji loves being on top and in control, he does the bending. So every few times during sex when your hand slips near his ass he’ll clench his ass cheeks, you’ll laugh and watch as his face turns sour.

“Come on, it’s an honest mistake!” 

“An honest mistakes doesn’t happen 3-4 times in one night!”

With his dick still inside of you the both of you will bicker back and forth until he calms down. 

Doesn’t like when you shave as much, prefers you to trim

Toji doesn’t care what shape or form your pussy takes he hates that when during sex he can feel the shaved hair growing back, it feels like sandpaper. Whenever you talk about shaving he’ll always convince you to only trim it. Just let the man eat your pussy the way it is, hairy/trim. 

GOJO ⊹ ons

Cowgirl

When your on top it’s a show, from your chest/breast bouncing, the way your nipples perk up and become hard. How your hands are planted on his torso as your mouth hangs open, he loves it all, especially when your enjoying yourself on his dick.

 “Awh the little brat needed dick that bad?” 

He’ll mock you as you grind down on the tip. “Milking me for all I’m worth, such a good slut.”

GOJO ⊹ offs

Fake moaning

This discourages him and he hates that type of feeling, it’s like a pity win in his book. He needs to know that you’re enjoying yourself and honest feedback is important, whether you want him to go deeper or try a different position to make it feel better.

 “Uh uh, don’t do that...let me hear how you really sound.”

GETO  ⊹ ons 

Voyeurism

Into watching you get fucked in all your holes by gojo, he loves sloppy seconds, the way his dick becomes coated with gojo’s cum as he easily slides in your creamy filled hole. 

“Ah, your a slut for another dick besides mine?”

He’ll jerk off to you getting fucked before he takes over. 

“Open wide, and swallow without spilling it.”

GETO ⊹ offs

Cross dressing

Totally hates it, especially after that one time you had him dressed in a maid outfit, once he looked in the mirror and saw how stupid he looked, he took it off and threw the outfit away.

“Suguru you look fine!”

“You’re only doing this to get a few laughs in.” He eyes you down before walking out the room. You couldn’t help but laugh at his response.

NANAMI  ⊹ ons

Praise kink

Loves when you fill him up with compliments. this drives him wild, making him cum even more. Especially when you play with his dick, sucking on the tip as you keep eye contact.

“You taste so good.” You said as you run your hands up and down his torso, feeling his dick twitch in your mouth.

NANAMI  ⊹ offs

Spanking

Doesn't like to be spanked on the ass, it always catches him by surprise and makes him flinch. One time you spanked him during sex and it left a mark for a couple of days. He has very sensitive skin. 

“I- I just don’t like it as much, but I’m down for anything else.”

CHOSO ⊹ ons

Gripping his ass

He loves how you grab a handful of his ass or dig your nails into his cheeks, he knows you love it because when he does deep strokes your grip becomes tighter.

 “It feels that good?”

Watching you moan

He can’t keep his eyes off your lips, the way you moan his name as he goes balls deep, making you beg for a good fuck.

“Cho- choso.”  Listening to his name being spoken from your lip as you struggle to speak it out.

CHOSO ⊹ offs

Silent sex

Like who told you to be quiet? it irritates him because he doesn’t know if your enjoying yourself or if he’s in too deep, he associates your silence to that of a dead body and it’s a buzzkill for him.

“Just make any type of noise, I don’t care...I need to know that it’s alright.”

Piss kink (mahito might like this tho)

Do not give this man a golden shower unless you’re ready to die over it, he will lose his shit if sex turns completely left.

MAHITO ⊹ ons 

Virgin sex

Has a deep seated fetish when it comes to virgins, the only type of people he are interested in. Breaking their body and making their pussy/ass beg for his dick as they slowly turn into a sex fuel sex addict. He’ll use sex to have a hold over anyone. Always telling them that their his first as well.

MAHITO ⊹ offs

Don’t want to be rough

Being rough is who he is, he isn’t into slow and passionate sex, he hates intimacy. He wants to fuck rough and balls deep. It makes his dick soft when you say no to rough sex.

“Why are you so inconsiderate to my needs?”

Mans will gaslight you into rough sex. 

[katsukisbimbo]

Then and Now | one

✯pairing: ryōmen sukuna x reader x gojo satoru

✯summary: where gojo’s best friend is the reincarnation of sukuna’s former lover.

✯wordcount: 4.3k+

✯warning: fem! reader, she/her pronouns, swearing

✯note: omg i’ve literally been sitting on this for 3 weeks but here it is!!! i’ve fallen down a jjk hole and i don’t think i can ever get up

✯playlist

part two

“Satoru! Where’s Megumi? You said he’d be here? Something about looking for a special grade?” you bounced around, grasping his arm and shaking it along with you. You loved annoying him. The two of you had always been close. As a child, Gojo was still as bright and cocky as he was today, he had many proclamations of being your protector. Though, as you two aged, you learned how to protect yourself, becoming a jujutsu sorcerer whilst staying by his side. Of course, you were nowhere as talented as Gojo, but you never let that stop you, and he never used that fact against you.

You were still high in the rankings, a grade 1 to be exact, and you worked hard to get there. Not because you wanted to catch up with Gojo, but because you wanted to make him proud. He was the only one who had supported you through it all. Your parents weren’t much help, but Gojo was there for you when your world was crashing down, when you had broken into pieces he would be the one to put you back together.

Always.

There had never been a time where you had doubted Gojo. Until, maybe now.

“I dunno, I got souvenirs!! Kikufuku Mochi! They’re really good! You gotta eat some with me!” his mouth quirked up into a boyish grin. Gojo never lost his childishness and that was something you had always admired, even if his personality constantly irked you during your tween years. Nonetheless, you both stay loyal to one another.

You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Why’re ya smiling like a weirdo? You got a crush on me or somethin’? He teased, using his free hand to boop the fluff of your cheek with his pointer finger. He never failed to ruin the moment. Typical Gojo. You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Shut up Gojo, let's go find Megumi before something bad happens to the kid.” you huffed, earning a laugh from your companion.

___

“You didn’t tell me the cursed object was Ryomen Sukuna’s finger.”

“You never asked.”

“You little-”

“What’s the situation?” he suddenly spoke, cutting you off whilst catching the attention of both Megumi and the strawberry haired male. You knew in an instance that this male was the vessel of Ryomen Sukuna. He emitted the curse energy of Sukuna himself. You always felt a connection to Sukuna and had helped find several clues and his fingers, resulting in the higher-ups permanently putting you on this case. 

 “Gojo-sensei! Why are you here?” Megumi exclaimed, his eyes soon darted to your figure right beside Gojo. “Y/n-sensei too?” he gaped. It was obvious that both you and his mentor were close, though, lately, it felt like there was something deeper going on between both of you. 

“Hey! How are you Megumi?” you chimed, approaching his wounded figure. “I don’t think he’s good Y/n. He’s all beat up!” he responded, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket. “I should show the second-years!”. He laughed as he snapped a few embarrassing pictures to send to his other students, causing Megumi to turn and hide his shame, along with his injuries. 

 “The higher-ups wouldn't shut up with a special-grade cursed object missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing.” he huffed, knowing Gojo, he rolled his eyes. You did understand his dislike for the higher-ups. They tended to be more traditional and strict with their ways, while Gojo was...not. Of course, you would always stand by Gojo, even if it meant going up against your superiors. It was all or nothing with him. 

“Then Y/n showed up! I don’t even know where she came from!” he loudly exclaimed, as if he wasn’t that skilled to the point where he could sense you the moment you step into the vicinity. You rolled your eyes, whilst the two boys sweatdropped. “So, did you find it?” he queried, staring directly at his student. 

“Um… Sorry, but I ate it” the strawberry-haired male awkwardly chimed in. 

A pause. 

“For real?”

“For real.” the two replied in unison.

Gojo moved to observe him, leaning in close to his face. His chin propped onto his right hand in contemplation, a little pout forming onto his lips. He leaned in close with a laugh before pulling away from the male. Sometimes Gojo forgot that boundaries existed. The thought made you sigh, your mind suddenly recalling the time Gojo had tried to convince you to take a bath with him while still being in the tub, the bubbles barely covering what they needed to cover. Of course, Gojo enjoyed teasing you, along with being able to see your cute flustered face. You were pulled out of your daydream as he suddenly spoke, not realizing that you had completely missed their conversation. 

“Then give us ten seconds. Once ten seconds are up, come back to us.” Gojo demanded as he stretched. You stretched your hand out towards him, taking his souvenir to protect it. You knew Gojo was craving to fight Sukuna. You could feel it. You were aware that he was stronger since he had only ingested one of twenty cursed fingers of Sukuna, but that still did not ease your anxiety. 

Megumi, knowing how much of an overthinker you are, gently grasped your hand hanging on your side, lightly squeezing it in reassurance, as if to say ‘He’ll be okay, he’s the strongest.” You proceeded to nod at him and return the gesture. You pulled out a clean handkerchief, moving to slowly wipe the blood away from his face, aware of the fact that it would take some time to get him the proper medical attention he needs. 

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I’m the strongest.” he cheekily responded. That eased your anxiety even more. You rolled your eyes once more at his cockiness. A small part of you hoped that Gojo would be graced with the opportunity to get his ass kicked, but a bigger part of you was aware of how strong Gojo was, and knew how quickly he would be able to defeat Sukuna’s vessel. 

You slowly sat beside Megumi, straightening the short length of your skirt while stretching your legs. You had a love-hate relationship with your jujutsu uniform, love because you looked amazing in it, and hate because a certain someone made your skirt length a tad bit too short. Of course, you wore shorts underneath, but it was still irrational to force all of the females to wear something as revealing as a skirt. 

Technically, it wasn’t mandatory for you to wear the uniform but Gojo insisted as it would raise “morale”.

As Gojo continued to ramble on, a dark figure was already ascending, aiming for Gojo himself. 

“Behind you!” yelled Megumi, frantically reaching for your hand to pull you away but you just brushed him off, patting his knee to reassure him. “Don’t worry Megumi, I got you, just let Gojo have his fun.” he slowly nodded, still listening to his mentor ramble about mochi. 

In a split second, Gojo was sitting atop of Sukuna, whilst Sukuna was crouched between your thighs, his arms on either side of your legs, the skin of your thighs barely brushing against his forearms. You laughed at his incredulous expression before raising a hand to pat his cheek and mockingly pouting before blowing him a kiss. Leaving him stunned, he quickly snapped out of his daydream before continuing to attack Gojo. 

___

Your eyes fluttered open, the bed of flowers soft underneath your fingertips. You glanced around, hoping to find something, someone, anything familiar within the vicinity. Panic engulfed you, bile steadily rising in your throat. Tears began to gather in your eyes. Being in unfamiliar places had always given you a large amount of anxiety, especially since you’d just been sitting beside your pupil while watching your best friend fight the king of curses. 

“What are you doing just sitting there dumbass?” a gruff voice called from behind you. You whipped your head back, hoping to find someone you know, but no such luck. The person behind you was quite intimidating. They emitted straight power and confidence. Unable to say anything, you stood there gaping at the stranger.

“What? Why’re you staring at me Y/n? You like me that much?” he teased, stepping closer to your figure to brush the stray leaves that had fallen onto your head. Even if he was a stranger, you felt no need to flinch or run away from him. The air around him had a sense of familiarity. As if he were a warm blanket amidst a harsh winter. You wanted to wrap yourself in him, feel him and his warmth. His love.

“Come on, let’s go princess. I don’t need you getting sick ‘cuz you were being a dumbass.” he sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

At that moment, everything had faded away, leaving you with nothing but butterflies and the tingling sensation left on your forehead from his loving kiss.

___

You glanced at your shocked pupil. His eyes are wide with his mouth agape. “Y/n-sensei… Have you finally lost it? Y-You just patted Sukuna’s cheek!” he loudly exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. You laughed before avoiding his gaze, concealing the visible traces of shock etched on your face with a smile. 

That vision. You have never had something of that sort ever occur in your lifetime. Your mind was completely muddled. Barely registering the next words that leave Gojo’s mouth. 

“Both my student and my future girlfriend are watching, so I’m going to show off a little,” he smirked, leaning back onto Sukuna. They continued to fight, not that you were paying attention. You felt Gojo’s stare land on you a couple of times, yet your mind was still occupied with what you had seen. 

You suddenly shot up, carrying Megumi as Sukuna’s vessel came skidding towards the both of you. You ran behind Gojo, knowing that it would be safer for Megumi. You sighed once more before sitting Megumi down. Dusting your skirt, you dug into Gojo’s bag of treats before munching on a piece of mochi. 

“You jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter what era!” Sukuna growled, pointedly staring at you as he launched another attack at Gojo. “Though that doesn’t mean much to me.” he continued smugly before his eyes widened, seeing as the three of you had come out fully unscathed.

Megumi sighed as Gojo continued to count down, Sukuna’s vessel returning to his body once more after ten seconds, just as Gojo had instructed him to do so. You droned out for the rest of the conversation, lost in your thoughts on who the male could be. It couldn't be Gojo, the male's voice had a gruffness that Gojo didn’t have. 

“You can really control it.” Gojo mused, stepping towards him. 

“He’s kind of annoying though, I can hear his voice. He keeps mentioning this girl. Her name is Y/n I think? He keeps cursing her out! Saying things like ‘After almost a millennia she shows up!’ and ‘I’m never forgiving her, no matter how pretty she looks in that skirt.’ and--” he paused, scratching the back of his head. “He just swore at me for exposing him.” 

Both Gojo and Megumi turned to you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. You froze. You weren’t sure of what these two wanted to hear, as you are just as clueless to the situation as they are. Contemplating how to answer, you ended up shrugging your shoulders, stuffing your face with even more mochi, resulting in Gojo sighing before knocking out and carrying the male. 

___

You sighed, throwing yourself onto your bed before glancing at the cursed object currently on the palm of your hand. Sukuna’s severed finger was long while his nails were sharp. You traced the skin of the fingers, your curiosity getting the best of you. You studied his fingers from time to time but never got tired of looking at them, feeling the immense power it held. 

“Why are you still up?” 

“Fuck you Satoru. I hate it when you sneak up on me like that you bastard,” you grumbled, shoving your face even further into your pillows to avoid seeing his cheeky smile that you adored. “Aw. You’re so mean to me,” he fake pouted. “I just wanna be… appreciated,” he yelled in tiny, quoting that one lady. 

“Come here. Take off your jacket and go change into proper nightclothes, assuming you’re staying the night again.” rolling your eyes. Satoru had made a habit of sleeping in your room, leaving his quarters almost always vacant. He basically lived with you! Even when both of you would see each other almost every day! Excluding the days when you are both on missions. 

He smiled before rummaging through your drawers and silently made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft ‘click’”

When he came back, you were already fast asleep. Your fluffy sheets enveloping your whole figure, making you look so small in the mess of sheets you peacefully laid in. So beautifully peaceful. He smiled, leaning down to give your forehead a small peck, then situating himself beside your figure and pulling your body into his arms, knowing how well you slept when you were held. 

___

You inwardly groaned, feeling as if your head was about to be split into two. You looked around, stuck in an unfamiliar place once more. This time, it was real life. You could feel it. You were able to control all your actions unlike during the first occurrence. Meaning that the vision you experienced may have been a memory, maybe from your past life. 

This place had a menacing aura, a silent force pushing you to bend to its will. You knew better. Being an experienced sorcerer yourself. You grasped the holsters located under your skirt, silently clutching the pair of your guns before walking forward. You were able to enclose your cursed energy into your guns, shooting them out whenever and however you pleased. 

“Nice guns. I remember when you didn’t use any weapons at all. Only using your cursed energy to fight. You were a much better fighter back then.” a voice drawled, a shiver going up your spine. You whipped around, eyes widening at the King of Curses sitting on his rightful throne. “What are you talking about Ryomen Sukuna?” you growled, clicking the safety off of your weapons. 

“So formal. You used to call me Su-chan, you know?” he smirked, greedily enjoying your facial expressions. “That was then. Before you fucked me over,” he growled, his face contorting into anger. “You don’t remember what you did to me. Do you? You’re selfish. Then and now. You’re so fucking selfish. Get out before I lose my patience with you.” he growled, fists balling. 

Your jaw dropped in shock. You didn’t expect his personality to flip so quickly.

“Fuck you, man. I don’t even know you. You don’t even know me like that. Stop acting like you do! What do you mean ‘back then’? You’re swearing at me without even telling me what I did!” one step. “You’re a bitch!” two steps. “You’re a pussy!” three steps. “Fuck you!” you were running now. “You’re a fucking dick! Suck my dick!” you spat right in front of his face, leaving him stunned. Who was crazy enough to curse out the literal King of Curses?

One, in his domain. Two, when he’s no less than a foot away. And three, to his actual face. Only an absolute mad person. It was a fitting description. You angrily peeked at his expression. Waiting for him to obliterate you. His hooded expression is dark. You stilled, unsure of what to do. He… He wasn’t moving nor speaking. Could you just leave? You weren’t even aware of where you are or how you even got here. 

“Hey... Are you okay? You haven’t moved in a while. I’m sorry for swearing at you, but you kinda deserved it, not gonna lie.” scratching your head. You continued to stand awkwardly, hoping that he would just stop tormenting you with the silence.

“He-Ah!” you screeched as you were pulled into his lap. His arms wrapping around your waist to constrict you from moving, his hands entwining behind your back. You positioned one of your pistols beneath his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. He smirked, placing a kiss on the barrel of your gun, further flustering you, warmth spreading to your cheeks. 

“You still don’t know how to listen. After a thousand years.” he chuckled. “You’re still the same. Disregarding my anger, even though you’re aware of what I’m capable of.” he softly smiled. An unfamiliar sight. “You never liked listening to me in the first place did you?” he queried, tilting his head up to face you. The grip on your gun faltering. You leaned into him, your weapons falling down your side, clattering down the floor. Sukuna licked his lips.

You moved to kiss him. Your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer to you, your lips fully pressing against his. The feeling of his lips hot and familiar on yours. You moved to clutch his hair, wanting to pull him into you, only for your world to break apart, plunging you into darkness. 

___

You jolted awake, flying off of your bed and into the bathroom. Startling Gojo in the process. You splashed water onto your face in hopes of somehow calming your heart down. You remembered your dream vividly. Heavy footsteps made their way to you. You turned to face Satoru, tearing stinging your eyes as he automatically opened his arms and pulled you in.

“What’s wrong kiddo?” he cooed, pressing soft kisses onto your forehead. ‘Kiddo’ had been a childhood nickname bestowed upon you by your childhood friend himself. Seeing as you were younger than him. You clutched him tighter, wanting to feel him surround your whole body. 

“I don’t know bunny. I just don’t know anymore.” you continued to sob whilst Satoru continued to hold you, his concern evident through the crease of his eyebrows, his bright cerulean eyes piercing through you. You didn’t understand what you were going through. Were you upset because of your affiliation to Sukuna? Were you upset because of the kiss? How were you going to tell Satoru about the kiss?

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. Even though I might already know. But, just try to calm down okay? Can you take deep breaths for me kiddo? Come on, you got this. You’re a good girl. In. Out. Yeah, that’s it baby.” he continued to comfort you, the sound of his voice soothing all your negative feelings and thoughts. 

After another ten minutes of standing in the bathroom wrapped in his arms, your cries have finally ceased, your soft sniffles and puffy red eyes the only proof of your sadness. “Come on kiddo, wash your face for me. It’ll fix the puffiness.” rubbing your arms before making his way out of the bathroom, giving you time to gather yourself. 

 Your mind drifted back to Sukuna. Your fingertips unconsciously drifting to your lips, the kiss plaguing your mind. He had spoken quite a bit about how you never listened. Very accurate but how would he have known? It wasn’t as if he knew you. The possibility of knowing Sukuna in one of your past lives was close to impossible. He must be playing tricks with you, trying to bend you to his will. You may have had a moment of weakness last night, but it was going to be the first and the last time you let yourself go in front of him. 

___

“Eat my ass Satoru!”

“Well, I’ve been trying for years bu-” he yelped, clutching the arm that you mercilessly attacked. He had a nasty habit of making too many sexual jokes. Of course, you weren’t going to deny the fact that you’ve shared similar thoughts, but you would rather jump out of a moving car than admit it to your best friend. Knowing him, his ego would triple and nobody had the time or patience for that. 

“You are so mean!” he pouted. 

“I am not! You’re just a little piss baby.”

“I’m filing for a divorce. I can’t tolerate this slander anymore.” he huffed, walking away after absolutely destroying him in Mario Kart. His pride took a hit. He had taught you that game! You couldn't be that much better than him, the screen displaying fifth place while you came second. You giggled as you followed him, clinging onto his arm as you peeked at his sour expression. 

“Don’t be a sore loser Satoru. It’s not cute.” you chastised. Pointing your index finger at him, resulting in him playfully biting at you. “So what I’m hearing is, I’m cute the rest of the time.” he flirted, lowering his sunglasses to wink at your steadily heating face.

“Sure, but we both know who’s the cutest.”

“Of course you’re the cutest kiddo.”

“I was talking about Nanami, but sure. That’s good too.”

His jaw dropped. Did you find Nanami cuter than him? The Gojo Satoru? He was visibly stressing, running a hand through his soft snowy locks before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. You’re not cute. You can go play with Nanami. I don’t like you anymore.” he pouted once more, shaking you off of him. “Noo-” you tightened your hold on him, pulling him to the exit of the arcade. “Let’s go get ramen. My treat since you’re so cute.” You teased.

You smiled at him before facing forward, missing the way Satoru’s lips parted in awe, a light blush dusting his soft pale cheeks. His wide eyes are full of love hidden behind the lens of his sunglasses. He turned away from you, placing his vacant hand on his chest, a futile attempt at calming down his racing heart. 

“Okay.”

___

“Oh. You’re back.” he deadpanned, eyes boring into your figure. The setting was different today. Instead of being in what you had assumed what his domain looked like, you were sitting beside him on the engawa of a quaint traditional Japanese home. You scowled, furrowing your eyebrows as you scowled at the nonchalant male.

You lunged at him, hoping to pin him down to press for answers. Not realizing that your attire had also changed, tripping on the length of your floral patterned yukata, resulting in you landing on top of Sukuna himself. His eyebrows almost flying up to his hairline. 

You peeked at him. His hair dishevelled, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks. Your eyes trailed lower, unable to look him in the eyes. A mistake on your part. His white yukata had slightly unravelled, exposing his tan, golden chest to your wandering eyes. Your mouth is drying up at the sight. Unconsciously licking your lips. 

His shocked expression replaced with his usual smirks, his fangs making an appearance. “Didn’t know that you wanted it that bad, princess. What’s wrong? Your little friend isn't enough for you?” he sneered, gripping your waist with his hands, his razor-sharp nails slightly digging into your sides, causing you to squirm uncomfortably. 

“What is your problem you freak?” you growled, fisting the fabric of his clothes. 

“Me? I’m not doing shit babe. It’s you who has a problem.” he scoffed, sitting up, inching his face close to yours. Your noses lightly bump into each other as you felt your cheeks heat at the contact. 

“Why so shy princess? I remember when you used to make me eat my words. You were so cute back then. Thinking that you owned me, thinking that you were in charge of me. Learn where you stand. You are nothing to me” 

Lies continued to spew out of his mouth like vomit. He knew he was lying. He knew that you had him wrapped around your finger that moment he saw your face once more. The anger of the past dissipated. Only you left. It wasn’t his fault. You were his only love and you left him. Well, that's how he saw it. 

The pain of losing his love had left an ever-present scar on his nonexistent heart. You had been the only person to ever stay by his side, no matter how much he tried to push you away, to insult you, make you hate him. To no avail, you bulldozed your way into his life and his heart. 

“Stop lying to me. I know you’re lying. I can feel you lying Sukuna. I-I don’t know how to explain it...but I just know. I don’t know you, but you feel so familiar. Your habits, your personality. I keep getting flashbacks, or memories. I’m not sure. Though, I do know that they aren’t mine. At least… not in this life…” you trailed off, avoiding his piercing gaze. “But I know that the guy in those visions are you. It just… feels like you. Your warmth, your words, your voice…even your touch” you gently placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes for no sole reason. Only wanting to feel his energy. Feel him. 

He sighed. 

“Still the same as ever, princess. Always find your way into my heart” he heartily chuckled before continuing, placing the warm palm of his hand against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open at the contact. “I’ll explain since you asked so nicely” he winked, patting your cheek almost mockingly, reminding you of the time you once did the same. Heat rose to your cheeks. 

“So…” he started.

████████████████

What.

████████████████████████████████

What was going on?

████████████████

You saw his mouth moving though no words escaped. You tilted your head in confusion, causing him to pause before cupping your cheeks.

████████████████████████

No words were heard. You were even unable to hear your cries.

████████

“I’m sorry.”

Then black.

© katsukisbimbo 2021 — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated. please be kind and enjoy! ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

[oilivia]

"worth the wait" - w/ Gojo

a/n: this ended up much longer than i intended to, but after watching the new JJK op Gojo was the only thing on my mind. no beta and smut after the cut. hope you’ll enjoy it and reblogs are appreciated!

pairing: Gojo x fem reader

tw: teasing, corruption themes, size difference, masturbation, nipple play, knee grinding, multiple orgasms, mindbreak, cum play  

word count: 1.9k

You hate that you can’t hate him. You wish you didn’t find his stupid jokes so funny, or the matter-of-factly way in which he says “I’m the best” so attractive. It would all be much easier for you if you could snicker and roll your eyes at his confidence when he’d say “I know you think about me at night.”

Instead, thinking about him at night is exactly what you do. Hand between your thighs, fingers buried in your hole as you get off to the thought of him on top of you, pumping in and out of your tight cunt. You wonder how he’d react if one day you’d reply to his comment with an ‘Yes’. Would he laugh? Would he tease you? Or maybe you’d finally get to taste his lips, to wrap your fingers around his cock.

“What are you thinking about?” you flinch when you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Is it me?” he whispers in a teasing tone, a shiver running down your spine when his hot breath hits your ear. How much of an asshole can he be sneaking up on you like this? Well, fuck it, you think. What’s the worst that could happen?

“And what if I was, Gojo?” There is a short pause and you internally facepalm, maybe confessing it wasn’t such a good idea. But then he laughs and your eyes dart to him.

“So you’re finally admitting it. Took you long enough.” You don’t even get to say a word before his mouth is on yours. With a hand on the back of your head and one on your waist, he’s pushing you until your back is pressed against the nearest wall. He pries your legs open with a knee, pressing it against your crotch and when you whine, he pulls his tongue from your eager mouth with a smirk. “I thought you’d fight back a bit more. But I guess you find me irresistible, huh?” 

You feel your skin burning at his words and the way he’s rubbing his knee on your pussy with only a couple of thin layers of clothing separating you isn’t helping. “You’re such a jerk,” you retort, but he just chuckles.

“And you’d like it if this jerk railed you right here?” He gathers both your hands and pins them above your head. Your heart is beating faster, the way he’s towering over you driving you crazy, his luscious lips within inches of yours. You want to give in so badly. 

It’s now or never. “Not here,” you whisper, trying to convince yourself as much as him. You’re right in the middle of a hallway at Jujutsu Tech, not the best place to fuck. Not if you don’t plan on finding another job at least. It’s getting harder to hold in your moans the more he’s teasing your covered clit and at this point the spot on his pants that’s pressed on you must be wet as well. 

“Hmm, I’ll indulge you since it’s our first time,” he chuckles and picks you up. A few moments later, he gently throws you on a bed “I brought you to my apartment if you’re so shy, though I’d rather have taken you right against that wall.” You know some things about Gojo’s cursed techniques, but still, it never fails to amaze you just how strong it is. Maybe that’s part of the appeal. That, and the few times you had those otherworldly eyes staring down at you.

You don’t have much time to analyze your motivations, not with the man himself climbing on top of you, jacket thrown next to the bed and shirt half unbuttoned. He is going to make you work for it if you want to see him naked. He enjoys seeing the battle within you between your desire for him and your desire to remain unbothered. It amuses him. It’s always fun, making the cool and collected ones lose themselves with lust. Have them crawl to him on their knees. And he knows just how to do it.

“You look so pretty splayed like that on my bed,” he mutters as he runs his hand up your naked leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps from your calf to your inner thigh. “I think we should take these off, they’re drenched,” he coos, tugging down your panties. You whimper when you feel the cold air hit your drooling slit. His lips are closing in to your ear again “And I’m keeping them - a memento of how much you want me.” He loves watching your expressions when he pushes your buttons. It’s easy with you, you respond so cutely to his teasing, so sensitive, so needy. He can’t wait to see how you’ll squirm when he’s fucking you, how your eyes will roll at the back of your head. 

“Pervert,” you hiss, but he only chuckles at that. Gojo licks the shell of your ear, hand kneading your breasts. A whine escapes you and you feel the corners of his mouth tug into a grin as he’s planting kisses on your jawline - he’s breaking your defenses, slowly but surely. Why would you be resisting him anyways? 

“So you’re into perverts, hmm?” He slips a finger between your wet folds slowly and you moan oh, so prettily for him. “Moaning like this from just a finger, such a cutie. What are you going to do when I put my cock inside you? Good thing the walls aren’t thin.” He pushes in and out of you while he’s lifting your top, planting kisses on your stomach and moving up to your breasts. He frees them from the confine of your bra and latches his mouth on one of your nipples, sucking as he adds a second finger in your cunt. You whine and he relishes the way your walls are sucking in his digits. You’re gonna feel so good wrapped around his cock.

Tingles run through your body. When you do it yourself it doesn't feel nearly as good. But you want more - need more. So when you see him release your nipple with a pop and pull his fingers from your sopping cunt only to stare at you with an impish smile, you can’t help but whine “Gojo, please!”

“Call me Satoru,” he grins “You’re always so formal, even naked on my bed. And please what?”

“Please stop being such a tease and just fuck me already!” Your cheeks are burning up, you can’t believe he’s making you act like such a needy slut. 

“All you had to do was ask,” he chuckles, untying his blindfold “I want you to look at me while I make you cream on my cock.”

Gojo’s eyes are just as mesmerizing as you remember and staring into them feels like taking a plunge off a cliff, just to fall into the sky. You bite your lip, you could be so cheesy sometimes. But you can’t stop looking, barely registering the way he takes your hands and places them on his shirt, unbuttoning it with your own fingers and then moving to undo the clasp of his belt. 

“Just like this,” he coos, pushing you on your back once he’s done making you undress him. Your eyes widen when you see his cock, fully hard and drops of precum leaking from the tip. “You like it?”

“I-I’m not sure it’s going to fit-” 

“We’ll make it fit,” Gojo coaxes, placing your legs on his shoulders and pressing the tip against your entrance. You whine, the way he’s spreading your muscle rim both painful and delicious. Inch by inch he’s stretching your tight walls, your back arching. He’s rubbing against each and every one of your sensitive spots and you’re so close to cumming just by having him enter you. “Oh, look at you, you’re so fucking wet and still so fucking tight.”

He grunts, sheeting himself inside you fully with one deep thrust. He gives you a moment to rest, enjoying the way your walls clench around his length. Gojo had his eyes on you for a while. He saw the way you always hesitated for a second every time he teased you, how you’d fight laughing at his jokes. And how you swayed your hips so alluringly each time you walked away as if spending one more second in his presence would make all your defenses crumble. But he knew it was just a matter of time before you’d fall right into his arms. You were just too cute, too innocent - he had to have you. 

“S-Satoru,” you moan his name when he starts moving again. Each thrust is hard and deep and each of them makes the coil in your abdomen tighten. His hands are on your ass, spreading your cheeks. You cry his name over and over. And he just pounds into you, slamming his hips into yours. He isn’t going to be gentle just because you never had a cock as big. He can’t, he’s not that merciful. You’re just too pretty, how you whine and squirm, how your much smaller body shakes when he touches you, when he fucks into you. Your eyes are glazed over, but you don’t close them, no, you’re looking straight at him. Drool is dripping from the corner of your mouth, and slick is running down your thighs. 

“You’re such a mess. Such a pretty fucking mess,” he smirks and thrusts harder. Your hands grip the sheets. So desperate, so needy. You need to hold onto something to keep you from bursting. But when he leans on you and his lips wrap around your nipples once more - you can’t hold it anymore. The coil snaps as your mind goes blank, your body frantically trying to pull him deeper inside you, squeezing, milking him.

He’s panting as he keeps fucking you through your high. He’s chasing his own release, trying to decide which part of your body he should mark with his cum. Your bouncy tits? Your pretty face? Or maybe he should just finish inside you and watch as it drips from your well-fucked hole. He’s close, so close. And you’re still cumming - is it the second or the third time? It doesn’t matter.

Pulling out of your velvety walls, he strokes his cock while rubbing your clit. He wants to see you squirming for a little while more. His body jerks and with a grunt he sprays his cum all over your stomach and breasts, a few drops landing on your face as you’re cumming again from the pressure on your clit. 

He’d ask you if you’d be able to fuck another man after this, but there was no point. You are so out of it, your walls clenching around nothing and body still shaking - you couldn’t answer him anyway. Gojo will just have to wait until you’re coherent again. He knows you won’t be able to stay away from him anymore, you’ll just be crawling on your hands and knees back to him, begging for his cock. And he’s going to give it to you, he’s going to fuck you in every corner of the school. It seems the wait was worth it.

© 2021 all content belongs to @cherrysdollhouse​, please do not modify or repost without permission

[wri0thesley]

Okay but hear me out, gojo teaching his girl how to properly touch herself bc she can't make herself cum and has been edging herself unintentionally and gojo helps out with his long fingers 🥺

instruction - gojo x fem!reader (2k)

you might be having trouble, but gojo doesn’t mind playing sensei to you. 

warnings: nsfw/minors dni! oral sex, assisted masturbation, fingering. afab reader with fem pronouns

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

The first time that Gojo gives you an orgasm, it’s using his tongue. His head is buried between your thighs, soft noises of praise coming out of his mouth interspersed with the flutter of his kisses on your inner thighs and the downright filthy sound of his mouth dragging through your slick. His tongue toys with your clit, swirling it and sucking it, circling it before he returns back to flicking the tip over it with mountingly quicker and harder motions. Your hands are knit in his hair, and as you feel the ball of pressure inside of you finally split into a thousand tiny pieces, you tug on the silver-pale strands in your grip and wail into the ceiling. He guides you through the aftershocks with slower, deeper laps of his tongue across your cunt before he lazily pulls himself up onto his elbows, looking at you with those big blue eyes, galaxies swirling with them.

“You were so noisy, doll,” he murmurs. “I know I’m good with my tongue, but hell - if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that seems like the first time you’ve ever got to cum--” 

You feel yourself squirm, embarrassment flooding your thoughts. It’s not like you haven’t tried! But something in you always seems to stop you coming, and you’ve spent too many nights frustratedly falling asleep with your thighs a mess after being unable to bring yourself any kind of relief.

You can’t really hide anything from Satoru Gojo, though. 

The look on your face tells him all that he needs to know - that flustered, half-guilty expression, your bitten lips darkened from the dig of your teeth. His own expression softens indescribably, those long fingers sliding up your damp thighs as he coos, all pity; “Oh, baby girl . . . We can’t have that, can we?”

He coaxes you, words coated in sugar, eyes gentle, to show him how you’ve been touching yourself. Before you know what’s happening, he’s taking your hand and pulling it down to rest over where you’re still slick with your own arousal and Gojo’s saliva. You’re still adorably sensitive, flinching at the pads of your fingers over your tender clit, so Gojo gently tugs on your wrist.

“Try circling it,” he murmurs. “You’ll hurt yourself if you go all in with the stimulation--”. You do your best to follow his orders for a few minutes, until the sensitivity wears off a bit. And then, he’s kneeling between your thighs and pushing your knees up a little so he has a better view of how exactly you’re rubbing at your petal-soft folds, how you’ve been treating yourself up until now. “Show me exactly how you’ve done it before,” he breathes, the crystalline sapphires of his eyes set on the space between your legs like he’s a patron at an art gallery. “Lemme see why you haven’t gotten to come, baby.”

You do your best. It’s the same as it always is, though - you rub at your clit with inexperienced, clumsy fingers. Heat seems to build up inside you, but you never manage to get it to go further than that build up. Even when you use your other hand to thrust two of your fingers inside, it feels like you’re reaching for something that isn’t quite there. It’s so annoying. You’ve read guides on how to do this, watched porn videos in the hope it’ll help you with your block - but nothing seems to work. And now, you’re being watched by your boyfriend, and you can’t help but be hot and embarrassed . . . and kind of turned on. The way that he’s looking at you. The concern knitting his usually smooth brow.

Gojo watches you, pensive, as you feel tears of frustration bubble up in the corners of your eyes. You move your hands away from your cunt, curling them into fists and giving the bed beneath you an exasperated thump. 

(Gojo’s eyebrows raise as he sees you removing the stimulation entirely. You poor little thing. No wonder you haven’t managed it.) 

“I-I can’t get it to go further,” you say, agitated. “I-it gets to a point, and then it just seems to stop! It builds up and it builds up but it just stays there!”

Gojo shifts closer to you. His hands rest on your thighs. “You know what I think?” He asks you, his voice very low. His cock has been hard in his pants since the moment he got you on his bed, never mind the orgasm he gave you with his tongue - but it’s a damn right tragedy you’ve never been able to make yourself come, and (much as he doesn’t want to admit it) being Gojo’s girlfriend can be a lonely life. He’s away on missions so often, and he loves to tease, and he knows that you’ll have his cock on the mind forever once you’ve had it for the first time. So it’s better for both of you if you learn exactly what you’re doing. “I think y’just haven’t had the right teacher yet. And . . . you’re in luck,” he flashes you one of those patented Satoru Gojo grins, half-unhinged and half-handsome. “Because I’m right here and willin’ to take some time out of my busy schedule to teach you all about the human body--!”

“Don’t put it like that,” you say, weakly, as he reaches between your thighs and pulls the lips of your cunt apart. He looks back at your sex; the swollen clit, the hole begging to be filled, the absolute mess you’ve both made with tongues and fingers and your earlier orgasm. 

“You always stop before it goes further, right? Because you get bored and frustrated?” He clicks his tongue, shaking your head in mock scolding, as you squirm. “Baby girl, you gotta have temerity. You’ve been edging yourself ever since you figured out how to jack off.” His thumb swipes down through the slit as he lets go of his thumb’s hold. “Play with your clit for me. C’mon.”

The way he meets your eyes tells you that this is an order, and Gojo when he slips into the mode of a commander is not a man to be messed with. You hesitantly slide your fingers back between your legs to gently circle your swollen clit, your touch incredibly gentle. Gojo’s pretty mouth tilts into a smile. “Use your other hand to play with your chest,” he says. “I’d ask you to use it for something else, but . . .” The smile widens, showing a hint of white teeth. “I think I’m much better placed to do that.”

You are about to ask him what he means when his hand brushes over yours and then a fingertip gently pushes into the pulsing ring of your entrance. His fingers are slender - it does not hurt for him to push them in, but you are still robbed of your breath by the sensation of it plunging slowly into your silky depths. He gives one or two cursory pumps, before withdrawing his finger entirely so he can add a second beside it.

This one is more of a stretch, but it is a stretch in the best possible way. You use the hand not playing with your clit to squeeze the weight of your breast, your breath hitching. Thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak, as Gojo finds a slow rhythm to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s deeper, right?” He rasps. “Feels better? Like places you’ve never been able to reach before?” He crooks his fingers just so and magic seems to spark, a spot on your inner walls your own shorter fingers have never managed to gain ground on. Your thighs tremble and you gasp out his name. “I thought so.” He swallows. You look up at him through the fan of your eyelashes and you see the lust in his eyes is palpable. He catches your gaze and holds it, unafraid. 

“I want you to be rougher with yourself,” he growls, low. “Press a little harder--”

The hand not currently fucking two digits into you takes hold of your wrist, pushing you to put more pressure on your clit. Fuck. The sensation of his hand guiding your wrist’s movements, in tandem with the fact that his fingers have not yet stopped hitting that special spot with every single thrust . . . You can feel the ball tightening, pulling in on itself, like a hundred knots in the same piece of thread. 

“If you didn’t have me,” Gojo rasps, and the sound of his voice gritty and dark sends a jolt of pleasure throughout you, “You’d be stopping now. You’d think you weren’t gonna get anywhere. But . . . you will, doll-- you’ve just gotta push past it--” He takes his hand away from your wrist, but you continue the pace and the pressure that he chose for you.

You whimper out his name, the hand playing with your chest squeezing hard (if you have bruised fingerprints on the soft curve of your breast tomorrow, Gojo will laugh gently at them and press on them a little meanly before he soothes you all over with kisses). 

“You gonna promise me you’ll do that when you’re alone, yeah?” Gojo asks. He’s sounding a little breathless. Your eyes manage to focus long enough to see that he’s rubbing himself through his underwear, an impressive bulge pressing against the expensive fabric. He sees you looking and gives another feral grin that seems to echo through you. “D-don’t worry, we’ll take care’a that after your lesson--”

“I promise,” you breathe, as he curls his fingers just right against that spot and your own fingers reach fever pitch. You don’t know if you’re promising to do it the way that he taught you, or if you’re promising that you’ll take care of his cock, or if you’re promising something else to him entirely - your life, your love, your very being - but you do know that the knotted threads inside of you snap all at once as Gojo’s fingertips reach so deep, so good, so perfectly inside of you.

Your channel clenches and constricts, spasming around the digits buried in it to the knuckles. Heat washes over you with a feeling of peace, different to when he’d used his tongue on you and yet similar. Gojo is practically purring as he watches you and feels you, a gush of slick coating his fingers even as he guides you over the crest of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” Gojo’s murmuring, as your breathing (when did you start panting?) evens out. “Oh, so good for me, doll . . .” His fingers come out of you with a wet pop and he brings them to his mouth, tongue flickering out teasingly to taste you. “So sweet for me, too . . .” He sighs, his eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the lingering flavour. When those eyes open again, they’re lit with hunger.

“Well,” he says. “whaddya say? Think you can come like that next time you touch yourself?” He raises his eyebrows, a playful grin on his face. “Think y’can come at all?”

You nod fervently, and win a chuckle from Gojo. He shifts on the bed, pushing the underwear he’s still wearing down to his thighs to reveal the thick jut of his cock. You’re breathless at the sight of it, already needy despite the fact your second orgasm of the night was scant minutes ago. 

“I want a video of it,” he tells you. “Next time you touch yourself. I want a video of you and I want you t’say my name as you do it. But for now . . .” He gently taps the wet (so, so, wet - ruddy and flushed and dripping with his pre-come) head of his cock against your thigh. “I think we’ve got some other business to attend to, yeah?”