#like. keep it in the staff room guys

[vaugarde]

i'm rereading my liveblog tags, because i needed something to look at while waking up i guess, and i'm still sorta laughing at the butch and cassidy journeys episode. i feel like when you have to make an episode about how, no, the fans are so dumb and unappreciative of our AWESOME writing, so the plot is that team rocket is unappreciative and bratty and literally falls apart because they DARE to want something better than their dumb gacha machine... you've lost the plot. you've officially just made yourselves look like the biggest losers imaginable.

even better considering they immediately canned morpeko and the gacha during the miniseries. wow, you really proved your stupid ass fans wrong there, guys.

[black-and-yellow]

[phagodyke]

yeah I'm not gonna talk abt it am I...

[futureghost97]

rant in tags bc I want to sob into a pillow

[peppermoss]

-

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[kurooh]

I LOVE UR WORKK

ANYWAYS MY REQUEST IS

how mha guys are in bed when they're mad or jealous 😋 (please include shinso im begging 🙏)

-💕

JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY!

☆ includes: midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōto, kirishima eijirou, shinsou hitoshi, takami keigo.

☆ warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, rough sex, mild degradation.

☆ notes: TY FOR THIS REQUEST NONNIE <33 jealousy is such a turn on!!

— IZUKU gets particularly energetic whenever he sees someone getting a little close to you or being flirty. he nicely pulls you away from the person and glares at them, but then he’s all jittery with pent up irritation and energy. he uses your pussy as an outlet, as soon as possible.

“feels so tight,” izuku whines into your neck as he ruts his hips against you, his cock head pounding into your gspot fervently. “i-i’m gonna fill you up—ugh, fuck!—and you’re gonna walk around and keep it inside you.” you bite your lip hard, head falling back against the wall of his agency’s staff room. you’re standing on one leg, pressed against the wall, one leg hiked up and being held by izuku. “i promise i will, zuku, just cum inside me, please!” the door is halfway open and his hand clamps over your mouth in an attempt to keep you quiet so you’re not discovered in such a compromising position. sweat runs down his forehead, and he grips you harder, determined to send you to your meeting late and dripping with his cum.

— KATSUKI is explosive, of course. the moment he sees someone getting friendly with you, he’s quick to snap at them and kiss you hard, then fuck you later. he asks for sexual affirmations while he’s railing you so hard you can barely breathe.

“you like it when i bend you over like this, huh baby?” a hard spank to your ass makes you whine loudly, your pussy clenching on katsuki’s thick cock. “i love it, katsuki!” your head hangs down weakly, and you look between your legs to watch yourself get fucked. a mixture of your slick, his spit, and his cum from early drip down from your hole, and his balls smack against your clit while his cock pistons in and out of you mercilessly. “how’s it feel, takin’ my cock like this?” dazed from the pleasure, you don’t answer as quickly as he expects you to, and his hips stop instantly. “no!” you exclaim desperately, starting to babble thoughtlessly. “it feels better than anything, katsuki.. please don’t stop fucking me, i need you so bad.” “go ahead and beg some more for me,” he laughs a little, his balls clenching at your words.

— SHŌTO is a little passive, talking neutrally to the person who’s getting too close. the second you’re both out of sight of others, he kisses you hard and makes out with you. while fingering and teasing you, he sucks dark hickeys into your skin.

“sho, don’t think about that disrespectful asshole, i—” strong arms pull you close, right into his chest, and sweet lips shut you up before you can say any more. letting yourself savor his touch, your eyes close, and shōto’s tongue slips between your lips with practiced ease; his kisses are controlled yet wanting. you whine shakily when his hand slips into your pants and into your underwear, his fingers brushing at your already sticky slit. shōto transitions, his lips moving to your neck eagerly, and he begins to suck at the supple skin. “oh, that feels good,” you whisper when two of his fingers press inside of you, another massaging your clit. “i wish i was inside of you.” he bites down on your skin particularly hard and you squirm. “later,” you say, palming his cock through his pants and pressing closer to him. “for now, mark me up.”

— EIJIROU is friendly when he pulls you close, kissing you in front of the person who’s making him fight a war internally with jealousy. but he’s actually angry, wondering how they hadn’t seen you together before they started getting flirty with you. so, he makes you suck his cock to help him get over it.

“can i suck it, ei?” you feel yourself salivating at the sight of him gripping his hard cock through his pants, the outline sending heat through every inch of your body. “hmm, okay,” he shrugs, slowly sliding his pants and boxers down his thighs. his tip is messy with precum, and despite his nonchalance he’s desperate for your mouth. wanting to tease him, you wrap your lips around him and very slowly take his length into your mouth. but eijirou’s hand pressed against the back of your head gently before he slams you all the way down. immediately, tears well in your eyes and you choke, your throat tightening. his crimson eyes roll right into the back of his head, and he twists his fingers in your hair, yanking you up and down on his cock. “let me use your pretty mouth, baby. this is what it’s for, isn’t it?” he groans when you tearfully look up at him, nodding. “fuck, take it deeper.”

— hitoshi is clearly unhappy when you return to him after purposely engaging with someone flirty, in hopes of him seeing you. he becomes uncharacteristically rough with you when you’re in bed together, and reminds you not to act like that again (but now you want to even more cause you love the way he treats you).

“i bet you talked with him like that on purpose, just so i could fuck you like a slut.” he spits, his hips pounding into yours, pace quickening by the second. one of hitoshi’s large hands slowly wraps around your throat, and he squeezes lightly, then harder when your eyes roll back. “i-i did, toshi! don’t stop, please!” he groans, his head tipping back, and his free hand pushes your knees into your chest harder. you’re folded into a mating press and tears well in your eyes, the pleasure overwhelming. you gasp, “i’m so close! hitoshi, you’re gonna make me—” and his free hand slips between your pelvis and his, and his fingers start to rub at your swollen clit. you grab his hand that’s resting on your throat and look at him with such desperation that he squeezes your throat hard, drawing gasping moans from your lips. hitoshi’s cock throbs when your pussy tightens, and his fingers fall away from your clit, and he slaps it instead. “no, you don’t get to cum until i do.”

— KEIGO swoops in, says “she’s mine, dude” and literally picks you up and flies off. overall, he’s pretty laid back and doesn’t get jealous, but when he does, he fucks you in hearing/seeing distance of the guy. for example, on a rooftop, in a nearby alley, etc.

“fuck you, dabi!” keigo shouts from the rooftop overlooking the man, his wings spread out and buffeting strongly. then he wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you against him and into a kiss. “kei,” you murmur against his lips, “i’m already ready, jus’ want you inside.” he almost cums right then and there, and before you know it, he’s yanking his clothes off and tugging down your shorts. your panties are pushed to the side hastily, and he’s quick to push inside you, but even faster to start fucking you. “be loud for me, baby,” keigo bends you right over, so you’re looking out at the city’s skyline and over all the roads. you’re shaking already as you mewl in pleasure, arms trembling as you try to hold yourself up. “keigo!” you moan, wanting to scream at how deep he’s fucking you. “good girl,” he whispers, “let the whole city know i’m making you feel this good.”

[auspicioustidings]

I just know that Ghost and Soap come to the small, crappy cinema you work in every weekend, pick a movie they know will be dead and then fuck in the second row from the back. You have the seat numbers bloody memorised.

This falling apart cinema doesn't have fancy tech to keep an eye on things, it's all manual screen checks by the staff. Every 30 minutes you are supposed to pop your head in and check everything is OK. Your eyes find them like a heat seeking missile everytime. It's not worth interrupting these two huge, scary looking guys. You work on minimum fucking wage. So as long as they are the only two in the screen you just leave them to it and hope that they'll not leave a mess (they don't actually, you try not to wonder where exactly all the, uh, fluids wind up).

You're hauling a bin bag through to the garbage compactor room when someone squeezes your arse.

"Naw that we dinnae love our wee voyeur, but it's been months now hen and I'm starting tae feel a little insulted you're naw joining in."

[k-dgn]

The Real Encore

Reader x Yuna Smut Word Count: 7.1k

Following the show, you sat back in your seat in a daze, dumbfounded that you had finally gotten a chance to see your favorite group Itzy live in concert. They were everything you'd hoped they'd be and more. Nothing online could have prepared you for what it would be like finally laying your eyes on them in person. Months of preparation getting right physically paid off in dividends too, as multiple members came by your side of the stage to give you all the fanservice you could have ever wanted. You believed you must have been the luckiest guy in the building as it happened more than once. Each and every member came by to dance specifically for you, and you ate it all up. It was all surreal, and you could not imagine a more perfect night. 

As the audience continued to file out of the arena, you snapped out of your daze and started gathering your things to leave. You were about to leave when a staff member from the show got your attention from across the barricade and called you over. You were a little confused because you thought that maybe you had done something wrong, but that confusion was quickly washed away when they told you that your ticket had won a "special raffle", and that you were selected to come participate in a meet & greet with the group backstage. You were ecstatic, but told to keep your cool as the staff member did not want to draw the attention of the unluckier fans and cause a scene. They guided you around to the side of the stage and took you back through a hallway leading to the backstage area. You were brought to a room where a staff member took your belongings for safe keeping while another gave you some quick paperwork to sign. You were so excited at the prospect of meeting the members that you didn't even read most of it. Once everything was set, you were told to wait for a bit until they would take you to another room to meet the girls.

They sat you down in a long hallway backstage, on a row of foldable chairs seated against a wall. The rumble of JYP and Venue staff rushing through everything, packing up the show and making sure they get done as soon as possible to be able  to head down was dizzying. There were a total of 4 chairs lined up, including yours, but so far you were the only one sitting in one. Staff kept rushing back and forth as 5 minutes of waiting turned to 10 minutes turned to 15 minutes. You wondered if it was going to take much longer, and decided to ask one of the next staff members you saw.

"Excuse me" You addressed them. "When will the special raffle event start? Are there other winners we're still waiting on?" You asked, in your politest voice, but they just looked at you confused.

"Special raffle? What special raffle?" They replied, as if asking what the fuck you were talking about. "Are you allowed to be back here?" They continued, putting you on the spot. You tried to explain that one of the staff members told you to wait here, but you had nothing to show for it.

"They're fine, I told them to wait here!" The staff member from earlier came in just in time to save your skin, with another guy you could only assume to be another concert goer going off of their outfit in tow. The staff member you asked for clarification gave you a suspicious look, but backed off, going back to their urgent tasks.

"Sorry about that." The first staff member said. "Not everyone is made aware of all events. I hope the wait wasn't too unbearable, we still had to find our other winner. But we are ready to start now!" They explained that, considering the nature of the special event raffle, it was sometimes a little harder to get all the winners in the same place. You couldn't help but notice the discrepancy in between the amount of chairs, and the amount of winners, but maybe it just meant some winners already left and lost out on their luck. Or maybe something entirely else you were yet to find out.

The two of you were then ushered further down the hall, ultimately ending at a pair of doors. These rooms were a lot more secluded, a far cry from the chaotic mess that was the staff hurriedly packing up the show back where you were previously. You and your fellow raffle winner both exchanged pleasantries as you awaited for further instructions.

"Here we are. Please wait just one more second while I check to see if they're ready to see you" the staff member explained and then turned around to knock on the door and peek their head in. They asked something in Korean, to which you could hear the female voice responding. Satisfied, the staff member then turned back to the two of you. "Okay! Now sir, if you'd please," they instructed as they opened the door and gestured the other guy to come forward. You were about to follow suit but the staff member raised a hand to stop you in place. "Just him, please. You will be meeting someone else. You made and "O" face and nodded you head. You and the other winner exchanged nervous glances before you raised a fist of encouragement. He reciprocated the gesture then turned back to the door, taking a deep breath and walking in. 

As he rounded the bend, the staff member closed the door behind him, leaving you alone and now more nervous than ever. The staff member gave you a quick smile then headed to the other door, repeating the same actions he had done with the previous room's occupant. He then turned back to you, leaving the door slightly ajar for you to enter.

"Okay, she's ready for you. Please go in when you're ready." he instructed before stepping aside. Your eyes darted between him and the door. He gave you a nod and this time it was your turn to take a moment to collect yourself. You steeled yourself before mustering enough courage to take the step through the door. You walked a bit further into the room, hearing the sound of the door closing behind you. No turning back now, you thought to yourself. As you rounded the corner, you almost froze in place. In the center of the room was a couch facing away from you, and seated right in the middle of it was a girl with bright red hair, looking down at what presumably was her phone. You thought that maybe she hadn't heard you come in because she hadn't turned to greet you, so you decided to try and get her attention. 

"Ahem...Yuna...?"

The girl's head instantly perked up and she whipped her head around to face you. It was almost like a scene from a hair product commercial the way her bright red colored locks flared out before perfectly settling along her exposed shoulders. From what you could see since she was still seated, she was wearing a spaghetti strapped white tank top. She had a huge welcoming smile on her face, complimented by her beautiful eyes which were beaming with excitement. 

"Took you long enough! Come, sit with me!" she called out.

You couldn't help but notice two things when taking in the room. The first was the faint humming of some music playing at a low volume on a speaker, posited on a table in front of the couch. You weren't sure what song it was, but you could tell it was by Blackpink. The other thing was a faint smell, attacking your senses. It wasn't pungent, but if you focused on it, it was present. It wasn't anything like any smell of any perfume you'd ever smelled before. It had no traces of floral scents or any of the like, but instead had this deep sweetness to it. It was intoxicating, and you couldn't help yourself from drifting towards it.

The shock of being in a room alone with Yuna and her addressing you so directly almost caused you to dissociate long enough to get on the nerves of Yuna who just asked you a question. It wasn't your attention to ignore her, you just needed something to focus on and ground yourself with.

"Hello?" Called out again, snapping you out of your drifting gaze. You looked right at her again, and walked around the couch, staring at you the entire time before taking your seat next to her. She was still wearing her pink skirt from the encore, matched with her black boots. All she changed out of was her top.

"Hi!" She spoke to you, very high pitched and seemingly very excited to have your attention. Even after such an exhausting show, her fanservice was out of this world.

"H-Hi..." You mumbled out through your nervousness. You hadn't ever even been close to itzy before this show, let alone win a fancall or anything of the like. Not for lack of trying, mind you. "I'm your biggest fan!" You managed to push, almost as if yelling.

"I'm glad to hear that!" She replied, equally as full of gusto as you did. She didn't skip a beat however, and her smile pierced through your body before she placed her right hand on your left thigh, the one closest to her, before continuing. "What's your name?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, stunning you further.

"Y/N." You answered, the first sentence uttered without stuttering or an added ehm since stepping into the room. "Hmmmm, Y/N huh? That's a pretty name. You know my name too, right?" She asked, dragging her words out in a playful tone, her eyes intently staring at your face as she asked you.

You weren't really sure if this was a trick question. Who would end up going to this concert without knowing her name at least? You shook off your doubts, certain she was just giving you an easy question which she could use to give more fanservice as a response. "Yeah, Yuna..." You answered, tilting your head forwards as you answered her simple question, still unable to really feel comfortable with her hand on your thigh.

The instant her name left your mouth, her face rapidly came closer to yours, she closed her eyes, and planted her lips on yours. You were in complete shock, your eyes jolted open before slowly closing, oozing into the sudden kiss by Yuna. You felt her hand squeeze your thigh a little, before she pulled away, a small string of a mix of your and her spit trailing in between both of yours underlips.

"Hmmm, your lips taste nice when you say my name, Y/N." She divulged, wiping the spit off of her lip, before looking back at you, hungry eyes, studying how you were going to react. She took this chance to reposition herself, tucking her legs underneath her and sitting on her knees facing you. You couldn't help but stare, mute in shock at what was happening. You couldn't help but notice her short skirt wasn't fit to keep herself covered in her current position facing you, and your eyes drifted downwards, but all you could see were the same pink hue of her safety shorts. This action didn't go unnoticed, as Yuna's smile turned into a smirk, busting your perverted action.

She licked her lips, as her eyes grew smaller and focused. "Don't think I didn't see that, Y/N." She berated you in a sultry, teasing tone.

"I'm sorry!" You blurted out, afraid you might have pissed the younger girl off and was about to get thrown out for it.

"No, don't be!" She responded, once more putting her right hand on you, this time on top of your left hand, which was clinging onto your pants above your left thigh. Her touch tensed you up even further, before eventually giving into the feeling of her soft hand touching yours, causing your muscles to relax. You looked at her face, no trace of anger to see, her gaze fixated on you. Your eyes meeting caused her smile to grow wider, which instinctively caused you to smile as well before Yuna continued. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours!" She said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, a cute smile on her perfect face. Your hand tightened up again.

"I'm sorry?!" You exclaimed again, unable to believe you heard what she said correctly. Is this a dream? You weren't even sure anymore, and pinched yourself, but the pain was certainly real.

"Didn't you read the contract you signed? It's a non-disclosure agreement you know. You can't talk about what happens here today, what do you think that means?" She retorted, asking you with her head tilted, and her brows gathered between her eyes, almost as if asking if you were smart enough to read.

"I skimmed it?" You replied, grimacing at admitting your own incompetence. You could see Yuna's face cringe a little bit at your answer, which caused you to further explain yourself. "I was just so excited to be here, I'd sign anything for it!"

"So you're the hot but impulsive type huh? You're lucky I think that's cute." Yuna sighed, her eyes had drifted downwards, introspectively, before taking another look at you, this time, a smile but with the faintest hint of her pitying you mixed in. Her high-pitch and tension picked up once more. "Well? What's it going to be? Wanna show me yours?" She asked. No mistaking it now. Yuna just asked to see your cock, and you couldn't help but grow rock hard just from the thought of it. Your bulge had started to show through your pants, and Yuna noticed, honing in like a predator on its prey.

"Right, yes. Yes! I'll show you." You replied, not really finding the right words, but enough words to convey the essence of your message. You started unbuckling your belt, and slowly taking off of your pants, dropping it to your ankles, leaving your underwear on. Your bulge was clearly standing upright in your pants now, and you looked at Yuna once more to make sure you weren't misunderstanding.

"Aww, don't go teasing me now, Y/N!" She replied to the inquiry made by your eyes. Your confidence surged, and you started pushing your underwear down, the rim of it clinging against the tip of your rock hard dick before snapping off, revealing the full length of your cock. You were clean shaven down there as well, as you in your delusion like almost any concert-goer, had to be prepared for the impossible. You read somewhere that the lack of a bush makes a cock look bigger, and you wanted to look like you were at peak performance.

"Now that looks delicious." She licked her lips once more, her eyes focused on your stiff cock. "You pass this round, I don't like men with small cocks." She giggled to herself, retaining her smile towards you, as if proud of her compliment.

"Mind if I...?" Yuna asked you, without finishing her sentence, but you responded having a pretty good idea of what she was going to ask. "Please do." You responded, strangely more calm then you were at any given point since setting foot inside this room. Yuna's hand glided over to your cock, and her soft hand wrapped around the base of your cock, grasping it lightly. Her hand was barely gripping at all, a soft touch wrapped around you, before she started to twist and turn her hand up and down slightly. You couldn't help but moan at her touch, before she released your cock, taking her hands back to her side.

"So, you want to see mine now? It's only fair, right?" She asked you, her head tilted slightly downwards, causing her eyes to have to look up at you sitting straight across from you. You gulped your spit down and nodded your head yes. "Alright, but I'll sweeten the deal. I'll even let you touch it if you do a couple of things for me first."

You didn't have to think even a millisecond about it before responding. "I'll do it!" You almost screamed. Yuna chuckled out loud from this, causing her to respond in kind. "You really are impulsive! Very well. The first thing I want you to do is this:" She explained, as she turned around, grabbed her phone behind her on the couch, and unlocked it with her finger before turning on the camera app and extending it towards you. You tilted your head, looking a little confused. She giggled at your failure to understand. "I want you to take a picture of me with your dick in my mouth! Lia isn't here, but she loves updates on us having fun!" She explained. Your eyes widened. Of all the things, this was not what you expected. Wow, this girl is a fucking freak, You thought to yourself, but you were definitely not opposed to it. Your hesitation caused Yuna to speak up again.

"You already said you'd do it, no backing it out now!" She exclaimed, and as if that alone wasn't enough to snap you out of your gaze, she launched herself forward, taking the tip of your dick in her mouth, and looking towards your face, holding her head still there and her eyes clearly smiling. You tilted your head backwards, facing the ceiling, getting lost in the sensations she was bombarding you with, before Yuna pinched your thigh hard, making you aware of your part of the transaction. Her eyes had turned into a scowl towards you. You snapped back, took her phone, pointed it at her face, to which her visage once more bore a big eye-central smile, posing for the camera. You clicked the photo button a couple of times, before Yuna released your cock from her mouth with a big pop.

"Let's see!" She giddily said, as she took her phone back which you gladly extended back to her. "These will do! Thank you, Y/N." she continued.

"You're welcome." You meekly responded, undeniably a little sad your cock was no longer placed in between her lips. "You said there were a couple of things. What else do you need from me?" You inquired, showing you didn't forget and were not impulsive and stupid, just impulsive.

"I haven't been able to shower today, and I don't want to leave you alone like this right now." She replied, looking at you with giant doe eyes, her lip pouting. 

"Okay?" You asked back, not really sure what she was getting at. She smirked at you, then lifted both her hands above her head, exposing her cleanly shaved armpits to you.

"Can't you please clean me up, Y/N?" She asked of you, an irresistible charm in her pleading voice. She wasn't saying it outright, but you believe you knew what she wanted. Or rather even if you were wrong, if she wasn't going to be clear you were going to take your chance to do what you wanted to do.

You brought your head closer to her, inching towards her armpit, as one question from earlier started forming an answer. This deep, slightly sweet smell you found earlier was coming from Yuna. Now inching closer to her, she seemed to still be glistening a bit from fresh sweat still on her. The smell was intoxicating, and you looked at her face before continuing any further, and she had a big smile on her face, urging you to go on.

You extended your tongue outward, touching her armpit, causing her to stifle a small moan, before licking up her sweat. You had never done this before, but you were hooked. The taste was sweet, slightly salty, and her skin tasted refined. One lick turned into two, turned into 4, turned into 10, before moving onto her other armpit, licking that one equally clean as the other, motivating Yuna's moans, until you were certain you hadn't missed a single spot.

"Thank you, Y/N, I feel a lot better now." She admired your willingness. You licked your lips, your eyes now fiercely intent on hers, before you made your first unprompted comment of the night.

"You are fucking delicious, Yuna." You told her, admiring her taste, letting her know you probably enjoyed what you just did more than her. She blushed a little from this, before snapping out of it, and regaining her bubbly, refined aura.

"Well, a deal is a deal!" She giggled at you, her head at 45 degrees, her eyes closed in two half moons and her mouth a big smile. She started pushing off her skirt, attached to her safety shorts, revealing another shocking truth about her. She was wearing no underwear, and she now sat on her knees across from you, legs slightly pushed open as if to lure you in, her clean shaven pussy exposed for you to see.

Your cock throbbed, the sight of such a perfect and pink pussy begging to be devoured by you was almost too much to bear. Your cock grew just that tiny bit more, pulsing, looking ready to burst.

"Oh, you were holding out on me? No fair, Y/N!" Yuna exclaimed, posing one hand over her mouth and using the other to playfully tap you on your shoulder with her other hand.

"I can't help it! Seeing such a delicious pussy, anyone would want to dive right in." You fired back, finding yourself in this erotic groove, growing in confidence. Yuna giggled in response to your admiration. She looked back at you, her eyes ready to devour you, before speaking up again.

"I haven't..." she said, in a soft, whispering voice, having that high-pitched pleading cadence to it. Her eyes started looking down at her own knees, avoiding your eyes. Her knees started to part more ever so slightly, exposing more of her privates. "Been able to clean her either." She finished her sentence before looking back up at you with her head tilted downwards, almost as if begging for you. "Could you please clean me up here as well, Y/N?" She requested of you, her cute charm overwhelming all your senses. She bit her lip at you, sending you over the edge.

You smirked, one corner of your lips arching upwards, before getting up from the couch. You stood in front of her, your cock pointing towards her at her chest level, and before you even had the chance to lower yourself towards her, the girl had leaned forwards, her tongue licking the tip of your dick. Her tongue curled upwards and inwards into her mouth. She proceeded to look up at you, opening her mouth wide and sticking her tongue out with a loud "aaaaaah", showing the strings of pre-cum she had licked up which had been dripping out of your cock because of her provocations.

"You'll have to be clean too for what we do next, Y/N!" She exclaimed proudly, gulping down your liquid while you grew a devious smile. Yuna give your dick a quick peck before telling you "You can continue now, Y/N." You quickly got lost in the thought of grabbing her hair in two pigtails and fucking her face,  but you knew better than to throw away your chances at whatever could happen next here for such a risky play. You lowered yourself onto your knees, placing your hands underneath both of her thighs, and lifting the girl's underside up as to get both her legs off of the couch, and hanging off the edge, as to position yourself in between them. You pulled them apart, giving yourself a clear view of her entrance, causing her to coo at your assertiveness, and pushing her own hips forward for you.

You brought your face ever closer to her pussy, inching towards her. She was wet down there, but not drenched. You picked up another spark of her scent, the same tinge of sweetness but mixed in with a more organic, earthy smell. It was even more intoxicating than the smell of her sweat. You opened your mouth, close to her labia and breathed out onto her, your warm breath causing her to shudder in anticipation. You still felt the sensation of her kiss on your dick, and decided to return the favor. You purse your lips, planting a kiss over top of her clit. Yuna's soft vocalization of a satisfied "hmmmm" let you know you were on the right track, starting slow, and warming up over time.

You stopped the kiss, looked up at Yuna's face, who was staring back at you intensely, her eyes pleading for you to continue. No more words needed to be said, and smirked, reaching your tongue out, flicking it upwards over her clit. Yuna's legs twitched, her eyes jolted shut and her knees buckled around your head, tightening her thighs around your skull. You flicked your tongue again, and now having warmed Yuna up were mostly just rewarded with moans. You picked up your pace, and swapped your flicks from horizontal, to vertical, to letters. Her hands found her way to your hair, and grasped firmly around strands she managed to find, holding on tight to you. 

Yuna's breathing had grown labored, but she still managed to push some words out. "Don't you DARE... fucking stop...!" She moaned out, and you didn't dare defy her command. Your hands grasped her thighs where they could, squeezing tight, as you unleash your final assault. You pursed but your lips around her clit, sucking on it, getting it into your mouth and nibbling on it ever so softly with your teeth. This mixture of pleasure and pain seemed to send Yuna over the edge, as her back arched away from the couch, and her feet lifted up from the floor, her moans rising in pitch as you felt her entire body convulse.

You'd forgotten to breathe for the final part of that, and pulled your head back, gasping for big breaths of air. Yuna slowly opened her eyes, un-arching her back and leaning forwards. Her both hands cupped both sides of your face, squishing your cheeks as she leaned ever closer, licking her lips on her way to you. She kissed you another time on your lips, her lips firmly pressed against yours, before you felt her tongue entering your mouth. You pressed your tongue slightly against hers, wrapping around hers, coiling and twisting in wet ecstasy. Yuna pulled away from the kiss, and stared down at you with a big smile, but her eyes turned totally vixen.

"Hmmm, your lips taste nice when you've made me cum, Y/N." Yuna spoke seductively. You couldn't help but be overwhelmed with desire for this night to never end.

"Your lips taste nice when you're cumming, Yuna." You retorted, turning her own script on her. She giggled, before regaining her posture. She held out both her hands palm upwards, inviting your hands onto hers. You followed her guidance and placed your hands in hers, and she took firm grasp helping you stand up. She crossed her legs in front of you, denying further access to her. She pointed over to a chair with a bag sitting on it.

"Could you go and grab a condom from there, please?" She requested of you. Your mind raced. She hadn't needed a condom before when touching your dick with her hand or mouth. This had to meant you two were going to fuck, right?  Your excitement causes you to do as told without any questioning, turning your back on her and moving towards the bag. It was filled with Yuna's personal items, but you didn't take long to find a condom. You pulled one out, turning around to move towards Yuna again. This time, she surprised you once more, having removed her top, sitting on the couch waiting for you fully nude, her legs crossed and arms spread, leaning on the head of the couch beside her, exposing her pink nipples for you to admire.

Your mouth fell agape, admiring her every curve, curves that had been the subject of tons of speculation they were fake. If you had your phone with you know, you'd have saved the evidence they were all wrong in a heartbeat. You failed to comment anything on her appearance, being dumbfounded by her beauty, which caused her to raise one eyebrow at you, prodding you for a response. Your lack of vocal response causes Yuna to stand upright, her legs crossing over each other, causing her hips to sway, as she walks over towards you. Both her hands reach for your hips as she gets closer, grasping the edges of your shirt, the last piece of clothing you were wearing, and giving it a soft pull upwards. You got the hint, and lifted your arms up, allowing Yuna to take your shirt off, throwing it to the side.

"So what, you're not going to tell me how pretty I am?" Yuna teased you, shaking her head from side to side.  You snapped back to reality, and quickly thought of the best thing to say to remedy this situation.

"You have to be one of the most beautiful women to roam this earth." You spouted out in a panic, causing Yuna to have to hold back her laugh in response to your compliment. Yuna looked at you, and you weren't sure if it was lovingly or pitifully, but it was only for you, and that's all you seemed to care about.

"That's certainly a unique compliment. Calm down, babe. You're doing great, I'm not going to just randomly kick you out." Yuna reassured you, taking the condom out of your hands, placing her teeth on the edge of a corner of the wrapping, tearing it off, pulling it out and figuring out which way was inside out. You couldn't help but have your entire being flutter from her calling you babe, and her reassurance did wonders for you to relax.

"Thank you. You won't regret picking me." You responded, your eyes meeting hers filled with conviction, showing Yuna her words had worked. She smirked at your newfound confidence, handed you the condom, gave you a smile and posed you with a question. "So, how do you want to fuck me?" You accepted the condom, started wrapping it over your dick and gave some thought to her question.

"Hmmmm." You consciously vocalized out loud, making sure Yuna knew you were considering your options, and were not just too stunned to speak. You looked around the room, and couldn't help but focus your attention on the giant make-up mirror against the wall of the room, drawing your attention before being gifted with an idea. In one smooth motion, you picked Yuna up, carrying her bridal style over towards the make-up mirror. Your sudden heroics caused the unexpecting girl to yelp out in surprise, shocked at the sudden shift or impact her words had seemed to have in unlocking your boldness. She quickly held on tight however, enjoying your display of strength.

You planted your right arm firmly under her knees, freeing your hand and using it to toss the chair in front of the mirror to the side, freeing up all of the space in front of it. Yuna licked her lips at the performance you were putting on, and as soon as you put her down facing you in front of the mirror, she decided that this time it was her turn to hold you tight instead of you holding her tight. Her hand had found her way over to your cock, wrapping tightly around it, slowly stroking it back and forth while looking you into your eyes. Her head nodded in the same rhythm as her hand stroked you, causing your breathing to become louder. You weren't about to stop this momentum with a light handjob, and put your both hands on her shoulders, turning her around to face the mirror.

"I'm going to show you just how pretty you look when I'm fucking your brains out, babygirl." You shot back, taking the initiative on the teasing. Yuna's eyes were big, surprised from you spinning her around, and you could see them clearly in the reflection of the mirror. Upon hearing your provocation, she smirked back at you, as if to challenge you. Her eyes were clearly expecting great things from you, but her mouth made it even clearer, asking you to "make me fucking scream." She places her arms onto the counter of the makeup table in front of the mirror, stabilizing herself, arching her back for you as if she knew what to expect.

Your hands planted themselves firmly onto her wide hips, grasping her tightly with your fingers digging into her skin. You pulled her ass a little closer to you, causing her to arch her back further towards you, to which she playfully accepted and wiggled her hips at you, as if to invite you in. You placed your gift-wrapped cock against her mound, sliding it slowly up and down her entrance. You were teasing her, waiting for her to grow impatient for your moment to strike. Her smirk eventually turned into a frown, waiting for you to put yourself inside of her.

"Stop teasing me, Y/N. Start fu-" she had started to say, intending to finish her sentence with "cking me!". Unfortunately for her, you felt like the perfect time to strike would be right as she started saying fuck, causing her voice to grow louder, and scream out further with "UUUUUUUUUUUUUCK". You slammed your hips against her ass with full force, jamming the entire length and girth of your cock into her petite, drenched with anticipation, pristine pussy. Her eyes rolled back into her head, feeling the warmth of your cock pulse inside of her, and you weren't about to let up. Her moans were varying in pitch, her breathing unable to keep up with her voice, as you pulled your cock back until only the tip remained, instantly slamming back into her wet cunt.

"Ugh, ungghh nghhh, FUCK." Yuna kept moaning, unable to lower her voice, and you began to wonder whether or not she'd be heard outside of this room. She was beginning to hunch forward, unable to support herself through your rough slamming of her thin body, so you decided to take a chance and lend her a hand. You moved your left hand from her hips over to her stomach, pulling it closer to you, and your right hand all the way up, around her neck. You put some light pressure on the sides of her neck, before gripping her towards you, and into your body. You placed your head right next to hers, pulling her upwards to you, her arms now too far away from the make-up table to reach, causing her eyes to open, looking surprised at what was happening. She looked into your eyes through the mirror, and you whispered into her ears.

"I promised you I would show you how pretty you looked, so look. I want you to see the goddess that I see when I'm fucking you." you growled in a low, whispering voice, commanding her to follow your lead. She purred, biting her underlip and nodding slowly at you, looking straight ahead as you released the tension on your elbow, continuing to hold your hand around her neck but supporting her arch as you resumed your pounding. You enjoyed the feeling of control you had over her body in this position, but you couldn't help but feel that a slight shift could give you even more access to her weak spots. Her arms were dangling behind her, grabbing onto whatever part of you she could hold on to, but you had better usage in mind for them. You moved your left hand from her stomach onto her left wrist, grabbing it firmly, and once holding tight, did the same with your right. You had stopped pounding for these few seconds to properly get everything in place, causing the girl to look at you through the mirror and ask you "What's wrong? Why did you stop, babe?"

Her calling you babe again ignited something deep inside of you, and you addressed her concern. "I'm going to start really fucking you now." You touted, like a stone-cold killer wanting to intimidate their target. Her eyes panicked, darting to meet yours.

"What do you mean, really fucking me? Hey, wait, what do you-" She tried to ask of you, her arms now bent back behind her as you pulled on them, before you cut her off, slamming your cock so hard inside of her she stumble forwards, her hips getting pressed against the high make-up table, forcing her to lower her stomach onto it, which pulled back into a beautiful curved arch. The tension you forced upon her pushed all the air out of her lungs as she heaved and moaned out of pleasure, still looking at your and her reflection in the mirror. Her mouth was wide open, her tongue clearly showing, as the tip of her eyebrows pushed together into her forehead. She was trying to say something but having trouble pushing it out.

"Cu-... Cum! Fuck, cumming!" She yelled as loud as she could, and you felt her tight walls gripping your cock, making moving harder. Her hips moved upwards, as she was now standing on her toes, her legs trembling through your relentless siege of her womb, but you gave her no reprieve. You kept pounding, even picking up the pace when you felt her cum, like a man possessed by her sex-fueled body. You kept increasing the tension on her arms, pulling her back further and further.

"Nghhh, you're gonna... fucking... break my back! FUCK, ngghhh, don't! Don't stop OHHH" She moaned, her voice cracking as she begged you to continue. You hadn't cum yet, and you had no intention of stopping before you did. You were getting close and Yuna felt it. She used whatever force she had left in her body to push her hips into yours, grinding your cock up and down while you pounded deeper and deeper.

"Fuck, Yuna, I'm gonna cum for you!" You grunted out, moaning behind her, feeling your climax near. Her eyes elated, a slight smile formed, instantly pounded away into submission by your cock, before Yuna started pleading with you.

"Cum for me! Cum deep inside me please! PLEASE please please please-" She begged, a submissive little slut begging for your seed, which was just enough to send you over the edge. You didn't want to cum without her however, and decided to make one last play before reaching the finish line. You leaned forwards, playing on the knowledge you had gotten from what she liked earlier this evening, opening your mouth and protruding your tongue, licking her spine from as far down to the base you could move upwards. She started twitching upon feeling your spit on her back, soon followed by her legs twitching and her pussy tightening. If this wasn't enough to tell you your gamble was a success, her screaming "Yes!" sure was. Your cock pulsed, shooting load after load into the condom inside of her, her walls vibrating rhythmically, as you took in this sensation, almost unable to keep yourself standing during.

After you came, you pulled out of her and took a few steps back. Yuna was now standing on her toes, her entire upper body laying on the make-up table, and her head had turned to face you, but her eyes were momentarily closed. You took in the sight of the half-passed out, fucked silly girl, before dropping back into the couch, taking a seat and a much needed breather.

Yuna had heard you falling down onto the couch, causing her to open her eyes and look towards you. She picked herself up with whatever strength she had, stumbling towards you and falling down onto the couch next to you. She was laying on her stomach, her ass up, red from you crashing into her.

She tilted her head upwards and looked at you, satisfied with your performance and proud of herself for picking you out. Her feet were up in the air, kicking like a giddy schoolgirl, before forming a circle with her left thumb and index finger wrapping around the part of the condom dividing your tip and your cum. She squeezed tight, cutting off any flow, then pulled the condom off of your dick carefully so as not to leak a single drop of cum. She tied a knot at the bottom of the condom to make sure its contents were safe. You looked on as she did this, while her eyes focused on your groin, impressed with the fact that she still had any energy left.

"A souvenir to remind me of you." She murmured, loud enough for you to hear, before grabbing a Ziploc bag and pen that had been lying on the table all evening long, placing your condom inside and writing your name in it and zipping it closed.

"Thank you." You spoke up to her, still unable to believe any of this happened. "This was a once in a lifetime experience for me." You continued, grateful to have been given this chance. Yuna looked back up at you, her head ever so slightly tilted sideways, puzzled at your remark.

"Are you coming to any of our other shows?" She asked you in response, suddenly changing the topic.

"Ehm, actually, I'm coming to see you at your show in two days as well." You replied back ever so confused. You thought she must have felt burdened by your remark and just wanted to get this over with while still being polite.

She smirked the same devious smile you gave her when you pounded the life out of her, and in less than a second had thrown her entire mouth over your cock, her tongue wrapping around your shaft from tip to base, sucking and slurping hard, licking every inch before releasing you with a pop.

"You'll have to be clean for that show too." She taunted you, her voice daring, playful and bubbly all at the same time. "And I wouldn't be so sure about that ‘once in a lifetime’ part." She smiled seductively, her eyes wide open staring deep into your soul. "Your dick tastes nice after you've made me cum, after all."

[kooggukk]

after hours | jjk

summary. one night, after a long rehearsal, jungkook lingers in the makeup room.

pairing: idol!jungkook x makeupartist!reader

contains: smut, unprotected sex (cum on stomach)

note: hey guys, i don have much experience writing smut, but we could say i tried my best lol nways enjoy :)

word count: 2.2k

the room was quiet, the loudness of the city could be barely be audible, muffled by the large window as you packed away your brushes for the night. it was past midnight, the clock close to hitting 1 am. the rest of the staffs have left long ago, leaving you alone. you enjoyed the calmness and loneliness after a long day. almost like it gave you a moment to breathe, to come down from the constant rush of keeping up with bts’s eternal busy schedule.

just when you packed everything away and was ready to leave, the door slightly creaked open. you looked up quickly, your heartbeat slowed down when you noticed jungkook poking his head in.

“you still here?” he asked, his voice was low and rough, his throat must have gone dry from all the practice.

he leaned against the doorframe, his hair sweaty, the sleeves of his black hoodie were pushed up enough to reveal the tattoos on his skin. definitely that’s the hottest part on his body.

“gotta clean up after your mess,” you teased with a smile, his eyes glanced to the desk. makeup smudged over it, dirty tissues, q-tips, some brushes that you didn’t use much anymore were scattered all over it.

he chuckled and stepped inside the room finally, he closed the door behind himself. you heard the click of the lock that made your stomach flip. the room felt more smaller by now, more.. intimate you could say.

“you sure that’s all?” his tone was light, almost playful, but when he turned around to look at you, there was something in his eyes — a glint, hinted at the unspoken tension that had been lingering between the two of you for weeks now.

you raised an eyebrow, “what else would i be here for?”

a faint smirk got on his lips and he started walking towards you, painfully slowly.

you gulped, his eyes dropped down to your neck for a second, then back to your face. when he got to you, he didn’t mutter a single word and just plopped down on the makeup chair.

you frowned, obviously you weren’t going to do his makeup at this hour. your eyes followed his hand, smudging the makeup from the table onto his finger, which he smeared on the black sweatpants he wore, on his crotch.

“think you missed a spot?” he looked up at you with desire in his eyes, his tone playful. you took a deep breath, “what?” you muttered with big eyes that stared right back at him, glancing between his eyes and the spot on his pants.

fuck, you could see the shape of it, the makeup matched his skin color, the curiosity of how it looked like made you go feral, all you wanted to do right now is fuck him till you were the one crying, till the shape of his cock was carved into your insides.

the room felt heavy, the air thick with something you couldn't quite place. you walked over to him, his eyes following your every step. you tried to ignore the way your heart sped up under his stare.

you grabbed a wet tissue from the desk, he stood up behind you, his chest pressed against your back. “tell me you feel this too,”

your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air between you, thick and heavy. you tried to laugh it off, but your heart betrayed you, thudding loudly in your chest as if it wanted to answer for you. his gaze didn’t waver, dark eyes searching your face through the mirror, waiting for a reaction.

you cleared your throat as you focused on the tissue again, wiping the table but the trembling in your hands exposed you.

“feel what?” your voice was quieter than you intended to, you didn’t dare to look up, knowing you’d be faced with his serious, desire full eyes.

“this, ___.” he sighed and he sneaked his hands on your hips, holding you tightly. your eyes closed, the contact was electric, sending a shiver down your spine.

his skin felt like burning even through the layers of clothes. “there’s this-“ he stopped for a second, frustration started to build up in him.

“this thing, that i don’t know where to put.” you froze, his hands moving up your sides, he stopped at under your breasts. “every time we’re in the same room, i can’t help but to fantasize about you.”

“tell me,” he whispered, his hands went back down, this time on your stomach, his movements stopped at the top of your jeans.

“tell me you feel it too,” he pressed his body closer again, his crotch poked at your ass, his face in the crook of your neck. his eyes focused on you through the mirror. “please,” he begged and you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

yes! you’d felt it too, — every time he sat down to get his makeup done by you, whenever he opened his eyes to look up at you, every brush of your fingers against his skin, every lingering glances shared across the room.

but for fuck’s sake, you’re his makeup artist! nothing more. you thought maybe he’s just being friendly, protective. had no idea his pretty mind was filled with dirty thoughts about you, but the good way.

he was curious how you looked when you were receiving pleasure, especially from him. he dreamt about you beneath him, wishing he could take you right then and there, in the middle of the room with everyone else around.

he wouldn’t have minded, wanted to show everyone it’s him who you’re fucking, it’s him who makes you moan, who makes you scream and cry out his name, not nobody else.

with a shaky breath you finally looked up, your eyes met his in the mirror. “i do,” your hand hovered on his, resting on your stomach. his lips curved into a small, knowing smile. with a swift move he turned you around, body still closer to each other than ever.

his arms slid from your waist, up your arm until he reached the side of your neck. his touch was soft, careful, but the heat from his skin made your body ache with anticipation.

he leaned in, nose touching yours. you were going insane, dizzy from just the thought of what’s about to happen between the two of you. your hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly.

you don’t know who moved first, — but you both attacked each other’s lips hungrily, your teeth crashed together. a moan left his mouth at the feeling of your lips on his, the vibration made you press your thighs together.

all the pent-up desire, all the unspoken words between you, came rushing to the surface. his hand tightened on your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, desperate.

he pulled away, a string of saliva between your lips. both of your breathing heavy, chests moving fast.

“you have no idea how many times i’ve imagined this,” he whispered with a smile. one of his hand slid from your neck down to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed up and sat down on the chair behind him, guiding you down onto his lap.

your forehead was resting against his, “we shouldn’t..” you whispered, his hand moved up to caress your skin and your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch.

his thumb brushed against your lip, “maybe,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “but it feels too good.”

he captured your lips again, every move of his mouth sent waves of electricity through you. his hands roamed your body, — your sides, your hips, your back and then finally, his hands slid down to your ass, gripping your cheeks with his huge hands.

you sighed in the kiss, he pulled you even more closer, your heat brushed against his crotch. you melted into him, you’ve completely lost control over your body.

he pulled away and a hiss left his mouth when you moved your hips as you slowly grinded on him.

his eyes locked with yours, his bottom lip between his teeth while yours was slightly open. his hands gripped your hips, he helped you move, a little bit faster.

“shit,” he breathed out, his head thrown back in pleasure. your eyes dropped to his neck, veins popped, sweat dripping. you leaned down to plant soft kisses on his skin, a low groan left his lips as he felt yours, nibbling and sucking on his skin.

your hips slowed down, your body grew tired. he lifted his head back only to be met with the scene of you pulling your shirt off over your head.

his eyes fell to your breasts, which were still hidden from his eyes with your black bra. he buried his face in your chest, kissing on the top of your breasts while his hand carefully unclasped your bra.

it slid down your shoulders, all the way to where your body met his. he threw the unneeded clothing away, his palms massaging your breasts.

“so pretty,” he whispered and you looked down. “i think they’re small,” he chuckled at your confession.

he shook his head with a smile, “no, they’re just perfect.” he gave you no time to respond as his lips captured your perky left nipple. he gently slapped the other, massaging it after.

your breath hitched, he sucked and bit on your nipple, pulling away with a smack of his lips. he gave the same attention to your other one, your hips once again grinded against his already hard bulge in his pants.

he pulled away from your chest, his eyes looking up at you with hunger. his fingers gripped your jeans, “let’s take this off, yeah?”

you got up from his lap, he watched you strip the remaining clothes that hid the rest of your body. he took off his clothes himself too, his hand reached out for you to grab.

he pulled you towards him again, helping you sit down on his lap once more.

“are you sure?” he asked as you sat there, skin to skin. you eagerly nodded, you wanted this more than anything, just like him.

“yes,” you moved, your core brushed against his cock. “please,” you purred, he bit back a moan at the feeling of your bare pussy.

he decided to not waste any time with fingering you first, he knew you needed to get stretched and it’s gonna burn like hell. he put his stupid desire in the first place, but he realized that too late.

with a hand holding his dick and the other guiding your waist, you slowly sank down on him. your body stiffened, you let your head fall down to his chest, your forehead resting against him.

he knitted his eyebrows together, your walls clenching around him made it so hard for him to fully fill you up.

he caressed your back, “you need to relax,” he whispered and planted a kiss on top of your head. his hand sneaked to your core, his finger rubbed your clit in a circular motion.

he helped you relax your muscles, immediately slipping inside of you easily. a quiet moan left your mouth, you stayed like that for a while. he wanted you to be okay, he cares about you.

“all good?” he asked, your face still in his chest. you nodded, he moved beneath you, he wanted to fuck you like crazy but he put you first, though it was getting hard for him to control his body.

you suddenly rolled your hips, leaving him with an open mouth. “fuck, ___,” he husked, his grip on your waist was firm.

you looked up at him, you rode his dick with all your energy. the room was filled with your low moans and your skin meeting, both of your bodies sweaty and hot.

you got tired, your pace turned slower and your breathing got heavy. unlike him, he’s a singer, so his stamina is far more better than yours.

he slightly lifted you up at your waist, he took over the control now. he pounded into you from beneath, your body arched and you turned into a moaning mess.

you were never that loud in bed, your moans has always been quiet and soft. jungkook got to see a side of you that he never wanted to forget.

he never wants to forget how your brows knitted together, how your mouth fell agape and eyes shut from the pleasure that he was giving you.

he felt you clench around him, his head was thrown back again. he let out a low grunt as he fastened his pace, hitting every right spot. your body tensed, your walls tight around him which made him hiss.

he felt you release around his cock as he fucked you through it, “almost there,” he heavily breathed out, trying to reach his own orgasm too.

he pulled out and pumped himself as he released his cum on your stomach, his eyes were tightly shut, letting every drop of him on your skin.

[tr1ppykay]

something i rarely see addressed on here in discussions of transmasculine bathroom issues is the difference between men's and women's rooms, and the way it excludes transmascs with vulvas.

I am a trans man pre-surgery of any kind. ideally i would like meta with UL, but for euphoria reasons primarily- STPs are expensive and a hassle, so i have no issue sitting to pee. i am 11 months on T and do not pass. using the women's room bothers me, but i live in the southern US so it's safer. i have no issue dealing with it to quickly piss and leave. what i do have an issue with, is when someplace claims to be trans inclusive, but in practice, is not.

i had a pretty awful night. my boyfriend and i had been planning to try out a local goth nightclub for weeks, and we finally got the chance to go. when walking in, there was a sign on the door that said "no racism, no homophobia, no transphobia..." etc. i was excited, thinking that i may actually be able to use the men's restroom for once! a few drinks in and the urge hit- i was feeling anxious, so i asked a staff member if it would be safe for me to use the men's room. "yes of course, we are very inclusive, there are plenty of trans people here." in i went and....

5 urinals, and one single stall- which was out of order.

i turned around and used the women's room. i had no choice. of course, there were 6 stalls in there.

this is not the first time i have experienced issues with men's rooms having a single stall- at a gay strip club, i ran into a similar problem, where the single stall in the men's room was not out of order, but instead, had a line of 20+ people. i, and a few other guys, opted to use the women's room instead of waiting (clearly this design flaw hurts cisgender men as well!)

men's rooms being built only with people with penises in mind, and often all but excluding anyone who needs a stall, is an issue that needs to be addressed far more often.

edit: ive seen a few people in the notes adding their own experiences outside of transmasculinity, saying that they don't want to derail- i want to make clear that nobody is derailing. this issue absolutely intersects with transmisogyny, ableism, and general androphobia (which i define as the way patriarchal expectations hurt all men, not any group systemically oppressing men.) keep adding on your own experiences. this issue affects everyone who has ever needed to use the men's bathroom.

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Protective Simon. For the beautiful and talented @lethalchiralium

Simon’s phone is ringing. 

Price raises an eyebrow from the end of the table, pausing mid-sentence, confused. Simon’s phone never rings. It’s always on full volume, because he never gets phone calls, except for ones from the 141, and they’re all here. At this briefing.  

His fingers find the ringer, ready to silence what he’s sure is a nuisance call, some telemarketer or robot, when he reads your name across the screen. 

You’ve never called him before. Unease tightens across his chest, and without any explanation, he excuses himself from the room and the bewildered looks being cast his way. 

“Hey, you-“

“Simon?” You sound off. Like you’re trying to be calm, but there’s something lingering on the edge of your voice, something scared. His spine goes stiff. 

It’s enough to propel him into action, his fist thumping against the window of the brief room, jerking his head south. I’m leaving, the motion signifies. Emergency.

“What’s wrong?” 

“N-nothing. Just… there’s this guy that’s been like, half a block behind me since I got off the train.” He closes his eyes. The fucking train. He wants you to stop taking the train. He needs you to stop taking the train. 

“He followed you from the platform?” 

“Well, he could be walking this way too…” 

“Where are you?” His keys are already in his hand, and he’s running down the hallway, past bewildered administrative staff and everyone else, bursting through the back door and into the truck. His phone chimes with multiple text messages, Price, Johnny, Gaz. All wondering where the hell he ran off to. Only Johnny’s text scratches the surface: Is it your neighbor? He waits another second in silence, hoping you’re trying to get your bearings. “Sweetheart?” 

“I’m… I think we’re coming up on seventh and Warsail. ‘m not too sure. I’ve kind been walking in a roundabout way.” We’re coming up on seventh… we. 

The baby is with you. 

His foot slams the accelerator onto the floor, counting his breaths as he maneuvers each turn in the road. Do you have the stroller? Are you carrying her? Did this guy peg you as an easy target because he knows what Simon knows, that women are more likely to go along with instruction if their child is threatened? That you’d never leave Emmaline behind? That you’d do anything to protect her? 

He feels sick. 

“Are there other people around?” He’s calm on the phone, trying to visualize the street, the buildings, the alleys. Easy spots where cars could reach the highway in seconds, and then be gone. Cramped alleys that connect to others like tangled webs, able to swallow a human being easy, disappear them into the darkness. It makes his stomach turn over. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel so hard; it hurts.

“Yeah, it’s close to the end of the day, so-“ 

“Stay where others can see you. Are you sure you’re on seventh and Warsail?” 

“Yeah. We’re in that park. I-I… wanted to take Emma to see the ducks.” Your voice wavers. “Simon he’s still behind us.” He’s turning the corner now, a block from your cross streets, and instead of yielding for oncoming traffic like he should, he floors it through an intersection, abandoning the truck still on, half parked in an empty street spot.  “Stay where you are, sweetheart. Okay? I’m coming.” 

“You… wait, what? You’re what?” He doesn’t hang up, but keeps the phone against his ear, and takes off down the street in a sprint, fully subscribed to the worst-case scenarios that have been building in his mind, images of you and Emmaline bloody and bruised, or worse. He gets them confused for a moment, memories mixing with the present, two things swirling together until they become indistinguishable, noise and panic roaring too loudly in his head. 

It all comes screeching to a stop. 

He spots you in the park. You do have the stroller, and you’re by the little pond, headphones in, Emmaline in your arms, her little beanie pulled down over her ears. You’re glancing around, nervous, saying his name into the mic. He scans the rest of the faces, passing over anyone who doesn’t strike him as a creepy git, until he finds his target: a skinny, younger guy lurking on the edge of the fence line, watching you. He hangs up the phone and moves across the park involuntarily, rolling his shoulders, and he vaguely sees you from the corner of his eye, mouth dropped open in shock, faintly calling his name. 

“Hey, mate. C’mere.” He shouts, half the people in the vicinity startling in his direction. Everyone seems to move away, like a magnetic force, pulsing outwards as he overtakes the guy with an easy grab to his upper arm. “You like stalking women with babies?” He hisses in his ear, voice low with barely contained rage. The guy is younger than him, but rail thin, and coked out. Probably looking for money. Simon jerks him closer, and he actually yells for help, like he’s a victim. It’s enough to ground the situation, making Simon realize he has an audience, and he grits out a final warning before shoving him away. “I ever see you around my girls again… I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Piss off.” 

“What did he say?” You’re frantic, rubbing Emmaline’s back in a circular pattern, over and over like you’re trying to calm her, even though she’s perfectly content. It’s you who needs soothing, he realizes, and he takes your hand without questioning it, letting his instincts guide him in regard to you without overthinking it. 

“He was high, love. Looking for money.” He doesn’t want to scare you but… he doesn’t despise the idea of instilling some hypervigilance. Maybe this will convince you not to take the train. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Think I scared him off for good though.” He looks around, and then slips off his mask, wide thumb stroking a soft touch on Emma’s cheek before giving you a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright now.” You visibly relax, but don’t let go of his hand, tilting your face up to his, all bright and beautiful, still coming down from the adrenaline of your fear with a whisper on your lips, meant for only him to hear. 

“Our hero.”

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: YUTA

A/N: Sweet, innocent, puppy-eyed boy who is no better than the frat boys you detest 🤭 (this is for anon who requested a lil crazy special grade sorcerer doing ungodly things!! Shoko feat The Boys ™️ is up next, then I SWEAR I’m done and back to AO3)

C/W: Aged up characters, College AU. Masturbation. Mature, 18+

“YUUTA?! Are you kidding me?”

You stop time.

Heads turn in his direction. But Yuuta doesn’t register any it because of your smile.

The 1000-kilowatt smile that the locker room rumors about. The smile that stops traffic. The one that obliterates his train of thought.

365 days since he’s seen it in person.

And suddently the year in Morocco for his University degree feels frivolous.

Yuuta places two bottles of disgustingly expensive champagne (courtesy of Satoru Gojo) in between the half filled red solo cups.

He’s doing his best to keep his eyes above your delicate, sharp collarbones.

He’s doing his best not to follow the Barbie pink hair string around your neck.

The Barbie pink string connected to the triangular bikini that is defying the laws of gravity, Mother Nature, AND physics to keep your busty, perky chest supported.

Not to mention the sheer netted tissue thin excuse for a cover up. Draped around the curve of your hips. It warms him hotter than the Moroccan sun.

You wire yourself through the crowded sorority house kitchen. And Yuuta gnaws on his inner cheeks. The predatory stares from from the frat drones scattered about ignites a guttural flame.

But he’ll deal with that later.

Because Aphrodite is barreling toward him and he is not worthy.

“I can’t believe you made it!” You launch yourself into him.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Happy 21st birthday, gorgeous.”

One of his arms is more than sufficient enough to wrap around your baby doll frame. Other hand in his pocket, while he easily lifts and spins you around twice.

Airy giggles spill from your lips. So clearly surprised by how strong he has grown. He’s bulkier. More toned. Hell of a lot more confident too.

Is he showing of a little? Of course he is.

“You’re here. You’re really here.” You stare up at him with stars in your eyes. Still in utter disbelief.

Your tiny, warm hands cup his face. Yuuta subconsciously melts into them. You always did strum his body like a harp.

“Yuuta, you must be so tired. Your bedroom eyes are even more…bedroom-y.” You tease.

Yuuta laughs to choke down a groan. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained mulberry right now.

Because why would you mention a bedroom while you are wearing a bikini he could snap with his eyes?

“Hey, be nice! You know there’s no amount of caffeine that can fix the bags.” Good, fucking save.

He swallows thickly and averts his gaze. If he keeps looking at you, he’d drown. Like how he drowned freshman, sophomore and junior year.

A continent, couple oceans and a sea away from you couldn’t keep him afloat.

A palpable silence drapes over the two of you. There’s so much he wants to say.

“Who’s is the hot guy birthday girl is talking to?”

“Okkotsu, I think.”

“No WAY. If she doesn’t fuck him i—“

“OKAY!!!” You exclaim loudly, prompting giggles from your sorority sisters behind you.

Your cheeks are now matching his. You both burst into incredulous laughter, letting some of the pressure out of the proverbial valve.

“Give me a tour, birthday girl.” Yuuta grazes his fingers over your bare shoulders because he can’t not touch you.

Your hand magnets to his wrist and you both beeline up the stairs. He knows, you know, -you both know- you are heading straight to your bedroom.

Yuuta’s heart is throbbing so hard his whole rib cage is vibrating. Cotton lines every corner of his mouth and he’s suddenly forgotten how to swallow.

Forgotten how to breathe apparently too, because he chokes on air when you pull him to the front of your room door.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you muse playfully.

And now his cock is at full staff. The measly silver zipper is definitely not strong enough for this.

“I-Im sorry?” Yuuta gurgles through the saliva pooled in his mouth like a hungry puppy.

“It’s a pool party, silly. C’mon, you can use my bathroom to change.”

Yuuta makes the mistake of letting his eyes drop down the dip of your pretty spine. Tracing all the way down to your matching bikini bottom. That’s a thong. Lining between your perfect, plump ass.

God.

No.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

He follows behind you, nails digging into his dark jeans.

“Bathroom’s through the closet, be quick.” You flash him another pristine grin and…and..

..what is his name again…?

Yuuta returns your smile with a lopsided one of his own. The walk to the bathroom is 13 miles long. There’s no way. No way he’s going to be able to hide his unreasonable, rock hard length through his weightless swim trunks.

He halts. Suddenly enchanted by your hanging clothes. Like a Venus fly trap. You’re everywhere.

Your clothes. Your delicious scent. Your jewelry. Your shoes.

Yuuta is in the eye of your vortex.

A long, silky sleeve tickles his cheek. So soft. Electric currents surge through every engorged vessel in his cock. He takes in a long drag of the faint cherry vanilla notes etched into your clothes.

An addict. A hopeless, pathetic addict in a field of his vices.

His fingers earthquake against his buckle. Clumsily stepping out of his jeans.

Just a quick touch. It’ll help him relax. Just really fast, you won’t know.

Yuuta whips around to bury himself in your silk shirt. Heart thundering in his ears. Fingers tickling the hem of his trunks. Shaft fully tented from nothing.

“Yuuta? Did you get lost in there?” Your dulcet voice knock Yuuta’s lust-drunk thoughts loose.

“Ha-N-no! I’m c-coming!”

Yuuta shakily unbuttons his white linen shirt, exposing his lean but chisled core. His cock is diamond hard. Any slight movement and his blunt, leaky tip will peek over the hem.

He strategically folds his pants over the indecent bulge. He just has to count backwards from 500 then he’ll soften and leave the jeans behind.

“Come out!! I won’t bite!” You coax again.

The second Yuuta re-emerges from your closet, he digs the heel of his palm into his crotch. Trying to will his erection down by sheer force because counting just won’t do.

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning against your palms flat on the duvet.

Your bikini has grown smaller.

It has to have.

Because the way your supple tits spill around the cruel joke that is that top fucks his brain to mush.

Soft curvy lines of your breasts. Feminine pretty lines of your tummy. The swell of your thighs just begging for Yuuta’s lips, his hands…his dick. He could drop to his knees and worship at your alter this second.

“Oh my god!” You giggle again, waving him over to the bed.

“You’re so, big, now.” Your hand lingers on his tensed bicep, currently losing the war against his cock angrily thrashing around in his pants.

“Am I?” Yuuta asks stupidly. Long sentences are off the table.

“Mmhm,” he watches your eyes lazily drink in his face. He must be an embarrassing shade of violet at this point.

Your hand makes its way into his hair and Yuuta just couldn’t choke down the “ohh,” that bubbles out of him.

“God, I’ve missed you, Yuuta.” Your face is so soft. So earnest.

And Yuuta is there with you, he swears he is. It’s just, you’re speaking directly to his cock right now and all the blood has drained from his head to his head.

“I mi-missed you. More.” He manages to grunt out, precum pooling on his thigh.

Hold it together. Fucking hold it together.

You turn your body and scoot closer to him. The peaks and valley of your cleavage, tantalizing him into a mindless fool who can only think about fucking his fist.

“Guys here suck. But not you. You’ve always been amazing,” you murmur, circling feather light shapes against Yuuta’s scalp.

He shudders under your touch. Biting his cheeks so his jaw doesn’t hang open. Drool already threatening to leak from his lips.

“So kind and sweet.” Your eyes drop to his lips at the same that your hand falls to his tensed abs.

And Yuuta is caught in your quick sand. His limbs loosen. Hand on his crotch melts away. Allowing his member to spring upward with all the blood he has in his body. The sudden movement causes his jeans to slide to the floor.

His ears and cheeks burn at his indecency. But he can’t move. He is at your complete mercy. His cock rhythmically pumping out his precum now.

“I..” Yuuta croaks, but in one dizzying motion you dive your lips onto his.

He snaps.

Yuuta’s left hand flies to his neglected, weapy shaft. The friction through his thin trunks evoke a deep moan into your mouth. His other hand grips the back of your head, pressing you forward onto his tongue. He didn’t ask for entry into your lips like he normally would. It’s too dire. He’s too needy.

His hand pumps his length while his tongue maps every corner of your warm mouth. You let out soft, high pitched sighs. Which nearly bring him to finish instantly.

“Oh, Yuuta.” You moan his name. And Yuuta’s hips rut harder into his hands.

He’s hoping, praying you’re too distracted by the bruising kiss to notice the pitiful way he’s bucking his hips. Humping his hand. He’s no better than the guys you were talking about. No better.

“OH BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!!” Shrill voices from just outside your door rip you two a mile apart.

Yuuta scrambles to his feet, his arm unsuccessfully covering his crotch. You are panting, thumb stroking your bottom lip. Both of you still brimming with your electric chemistry.

“Enough birthday sex!!! Time for TEQUILA!” Your sorority sisters babble and laugh, about 2 seconds away from opening the door.

You grip the handle. Face and body flushed warm rose.

“I-I-uh I have to-“

“Ye—yeah of course, I’ll meet you, down. I’ll meet you down there.”

Both of your voices nervously collide. Looking everywhere but each other’s eyes. You flutter out in haste. Leaving Yuuta in the middle of your room rock hard and a pre cum covered mess.

Like leaving a fiend with an array of illicit substances.

Yuuta turns on his heel and disappears into your closet. He’s not thinking. Logical thought has long ceased to exist. All he can think about is how much his balls ache for you. How drunk he is off your touch. Your taste. Your smell.

His eyes laser down to a crumpled pair of lace panties just a few paces away from your hamper.

Yuuta’s gaze could burn it through the floor.

Stop, Yuuta. Don’t you dare.

He scolds himself. Even though his hands do the opposite. He drops to his knees and pulls his heavy cock free from its barrier. The other hand toying with your worn panties.

He’s filthy. A dirty, nasty scumbag.

Yuuta tugs his cock, aggressively. Jaw hanging open. Short desperate huffs of air escaping his lips.

No, don’t. Stop. “Nnhhgh s-top…fuck..n-no.” His jagged thoughts and jagged words intertwine. Squelching noises from his arousal pierce through his groans.

Yuuta brings your panties to his nose, and nearly blacks out. Your scent. So fucking delicious. So perfect.

He needs to taste.

His groans become garbled when he stuffs your panties into his mouth. Every single nerve ending in his body ruptures.

Yuuta pumps his cock with both hands. Feverish. Sloppy thrusts of his hips colliding with his white knuckled fists. The world around him dampens. Blurs.

“Nnnghh..uhhgh..f-FUCK,”

Your spit-drenched underwear rolls out of his mouth onto his sensitive tip. Ropes, and ropes and ropes of his cum fill your soft négligée.

Yuuta hangs his head back, leaning against his calves. His dick still twitching through his nirvana.

After a few moments, the fog slowly lifts from his mind. His vision returns. Yuuta wipes the remnants of his arousal off his cock with your panties. Before tucking them into his pocket.

Unable to look himself in the eye, he quickly rinses his hands, intending to rejoin your party at once.

But, when his hand connects with the cold knob, a voice in the back of his mind pipes up.

Take another one.

And in a trance-like state, Yuuta rushes back to your closet hamper to find another pair of your panties.

A pretty, delicate red number catches his eyes and he stuffs it into a free pocket before scurrying out of your room.

He’s no better than them.

He’s worse.

PART II

[dadsbongos]

5 times laios almost says he loves you + 1 time he does

2 k words / warnings - momentary lead up to smut (foreplay/roleplay), modern au w fantasy elements

summary - laios wants to tell you he loves you, but keeps getting interrupted.

~~~

When Laios was a kid, he'd imagined a tri-headed beast crossbred from reptiles, mammals, and birds attacking all his problems. Recently, that image has been… tweaked…

Now when he's afflicted by demeaning nightmares or stiff social situations, the power he summons to crush all which is dark sided is, surprisingly, a human.

A mere person.

His partner.

Every time you appear in his dream, Laios wakes up in a massively good mood. Whenever Laios pictures you over the unpleasant sight of strangers, he can suddenly bear unwelcome conversation. Whenever Laios so much as spots you, his whole day elevates -- swirling into something brighter and sweeter. Misery to melon juice, he’s absolute goo as soon as you’re in the room.

And everybody except him knows what his deal is. Similarly, they know it’ll take a miserably long while before he can spit it out.

the time where you’re naked

“I wanna learn human anatomy, can you pose nude for me?”

You choke on your water, trying to laugh off the awkward question with a couple chest-pats, “Can't you just look at porn for that stuff? I don't mind, you know?”

“Nah, I wanna draw you.”

“Oh! Uh, okay…” you cross the floor, drawing the curtains to your living room before stiffly beginning to disrobe, “Like… right now?”

“Mhm,” Laios nods excitedly.

“‘kay then.”

Sweat practically oozes down Laios’ forehead, shoulders knotted towards his jaw as he obsessively studies each roll and dip along your body. Trying to copy you down on sketch paper that’s now marred with charcoal and eraser strokes. Drawing has never been something Laios cared to prove himself for, he knows what he’s skilled with and doesn’t fret over what he isn’t. Until now, now he feels the utmost need to prove himself.

To prove how devoted he is to perfecting your body on paper because how else will his adoration be known?

Because trust: he does adore your body. So pretty. And tender. And so very welcoming to him, just like you. Laios adores your personality more than your body -- you’re nice and funny and understanding and, most importantly, you like him. You seriously like him. His rants about monsters, his social ineptitude, his shameless nature: you’re verily into all of it.

And, in turn, he’s into you. He’s so into you it makes him want to choke himself in excitement whenever you lock eyes.

He’s so into you he thinks he loves you.

Laios pauses mid stroke on your thigh: it’s a little skinnier than the fleshy counterpart. So he erases again and lets the realization fizz over him slowly.

He definitely loves you. Unfortunately the sudden thought makes him so emotional he’s tearing up.

the time you’re on a date

Flickering overhead fluorescents are hideously unflattering to customers and staff alike at the diner. Not you, though. Somehow you make them work, even though everytime Laios catches his reflection in a window he looks absolutely ghoulish. The pale wash of sickly light almost makes you seem like a varnished painting.

You’re not even aware of his obsessing, too busy scanning the menu, “I’m looking at the breakfast for dinner options, but I dunno what I want…”

Laios wants you, and he figures the best way to get it out is just saying it.

“I lo- !” he’s silenced by a woman cheerfully greeting the both of you.

Her broad grin tackles him like a personal slight.

“So, what can I get started for you guys?”

Laios swallows his frustration with a wash of chilled water, letting the rhythm of your voice soothe him. Now the mood is ruined. Too stuffy with this onlooker.

Oh, well, he sighs quietly before ordering his own dish; paying no mind to how the server silently questions his moody demeanor.

There’s always more chances.

the time where you’re naked pt. 2

When you’re genuinely asleep, your lashes consistently flutter against your cheeks with each jerk beneath your eyelids. Your lips are parted to let air puff between, and usually you’ll curl your arms towards your chest -- which Laios finds so cute it makes him want to bite you. Sweetly, of course. Not enough to draw blood, unless you say he can.

Either way, he’s fully aware you’re not really sleeping. Which he considers preferable since the secondary act of roleplay doesn’t work if you aren’t awake.

Suddenly, you roll onto your stomach and stretch along the bed -- perking your ass up with a faux drowsy mumble. Laios can register you’re trying to spur him on, a more emotional exhaustion gnawing your spirit the longer he goes without touching you.

Laios has never been able to fanatically explain Incubi mating before he met you (well: he skimmed through it with Kabru, but that didn’t feel impactful), and furthermore, he’s never been able to act it out. Nobody before you seemed the type to accept his interest in portraying a sleeping body about to be bred by an Incubus.

Nobody before you is even worth remembering, Laios steps forward with fingers trailing up the bed and teasing your ankle. Mouth opening, he’s gearing up to confess when suddenly a voice not his own breaks the scene first:

“Laios, please,” you mutter, pouting so adorably he feels like his chest is about to explode, “I don’t wanna be mean, but I need you to hurry it up.”

“Now we have to restart,” Laios steps back until he’s pressed against the bedroom door, “Okay, I’ll go faster this time,” then he grins, “That’ll be even more realistic if I rush in! You’re so smart!”

By the time Laios re-enters the room, his confliction of pure love has been stifled in favor of lust.

the time you’re out with friends

Earplugs are snug in Laios’ ears, cushy and pressing against every crevice of his ear, as he slouches into the booth across from Senshi. He’s sliding a mug of beer from hand-to-hand, leaving a condensation trail along the shiny veneer of the table. Beside him is a gaping hole he laments, belonging to you, as does the margarita saucer. Melting ice chips and an olive Laios promised to eat are the only remnants of your drink.

Otherwise, it all seems to be pumping through you like hot blood. A beaming grin alight on your face as you and Chilchuck bounce around each other on the dance floor. You’re holding hands in the cramped throng of guests so as to not lose each other, and Laios shocked Marcille by not getting the least bit jealous.

“I trust them,” he reasoned, “It’s not like I’m the only person allowed to touch their hands now.”

Not that he’d like to be, either. Laios thinks everyone should touch your hand at least once: it’s soft and warm and you’ve got the perfect grip strength. Just holding your hand makes Laios want to be a better, more upstanding citizen that votes and volunteers. That sort of inspiring spirit is something he couldn’t dream of caging.

You’re like a human morphine injection confounded with pure sunlight, and Laios is already a baked sucker.

“Don’t wanna join?” Senshi slides along the black leather seat until he’s squeezed out from their booth, “You won’t be so young forever, you know? Best to take advantage while you can.”

Laios can barely make out what his friend says, combining muffled gibberish with the shape his lips made and praying he’s assumed correct, “I like just watching them.”

Senshi’s gaze follows Laios’ pointing, he nods slowly and pitters off with another few mumbles.

Laios cannot handle anything outside the safety of your group’s booth. Music too loud and air too hot the further he crawls along the dance floor, so he leaves that to you. And Chilchuck. But mostly you.

Life has many opportunities for him to sway with you to music: in your shared apartment, at friends’ weddings, and fairs. He can handle not taking this particular once to dance with you, and besides just watching is enough.

He whispers affection into the club, naturally you catch none of what he says.

the time where you’re naked pt. 3

Your nails scratch over Laios’ scalp, rinsing bubbles from between sandy strands of hair. His head is tilted, neck beginning to ache from the angle as you finish scrubbing his hair clean. Fingers snatch him by the chin, forcing his head back until water is trailing down his spine and shaking out his head with finality.

“There,” you push onto your toes to kiss his cheek, making him hurry to stabilize you by snagging your hips, “All clean!”

“Thanks,” Laios fails to release you, instead letting you spin in his hands towards the wall for your body wash -- the brand he bought you for your birthday once and you always kept going back to.

“If you’re gonna keep groping me, wash my back, yeah?”

“I’m not groping,” Laios protests weakly, frowning at the perverse accusation. Though he doesn’t pause before uncapping your soap and squirting a heap into his palm, then yours when you hold your hand out expectantly.

You scale down your legs, from the inside of your thighs to your shins as Laios lathers your back. He shifts a step aside to let water coax soap foam down the curve of your spine. Then he’s stepping back entirely, eyes lingering inappropriately. If he was able to die staring at you, then he’d take that certainty in a heartbeat.

Now, right? Now is the perfect time for him to get it all out there. Nobody else is in your apartment. It's domestic and quiet and so, so peaceful.

“Hey,” he calls over the thrumming showerhead, and you hum sweetly in reply, “I lo- !” he bravely takes another step, a lost bar of soap slotting perfectly under the arch of his foot, “Fuck!”

“Huh?” you turn in time to gasp as Laios tumbles forward. Yanking down the shower curtain in a feeble attempt to catch himself before his skull thuds loudly against the tile wall, “Oh my God, Laios!”

His body collapses against the wall before limply sinking into the shallow tub. Your petrified face blurring out in favor of deep,

rich

black.

+1 - the time Laios had a head injury

“Can you see straight? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Laios smiles at your flagrant concern, enveloping your shaky hand with his own and bringing it toward his thigh -- still damp from the shower and barely covered by the boxers you hastily dressed him with, “I can see fine. Let’s leave the doctors to do the testing stuff.”

“I thought you were done for! I was so scared,” you don’t fare much better than Laios in the clothing department: shorts he knows are his wrapped around your waist, and shirts clinging uncomfortably to both your wet bodies.

“Aw,” he coos, leaning closer to peck your cheek, “I wouldn’t go down from a hit like that. My head’s a lot sturdier than some shower wall.”

“I know, but still! How terrifying, you just- !” you slap a hand against your thigh, “Boom!”

“Well, you got me to the hospital pretty fast,” Laios squeezes his hand around yours, “So even if I was dying -- which I wasn’t -- I definitely would’ve lived with how fast you were going.”

“I almost didn’t dress us, and then I spent the whole time you were asleep wondering if I got you killed by wasting the time.”

“Like I said, I wouldn’t die like that,” he shrugs, “I can’t die before I tell you I love you.”

“Huh?!”

“I love you, by the way,” he sighs, a hand splayed over his chest with apparent relief, “Now I can die.”

You laugh, head throwing back in glee before you can catch your breath, then patting his thigh with a smile, “No, you can’t die. Because I love you too, so you can’t just die on me.”

Laios’ cheeks flush, he nods curtly, “Cool.”

“Cool?”

“I spent so long trying to get it out that I never planned what to say when you told me you loved me back.”

Laios is so cute you want to bite him in half, and you’re unbelievably relieved to hear he feels the same.

[cherryredcheol]

"lovie"

tldr: all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname a/n: but mom, i love him. (there is a makeout scene in this...)

pesters: but only in good fun

“lovie,” he coos at you, encouraged by the blush on your cheeks. he could tell by the look in your eyes, you were embarrassed but not upset. you hadn’t thought anything of it when he suggested you wear the green hoodie in your closet to visit him and the members in the practice room. 

“need to let everyone know we’re together?” he couldn’t help but poke fun at you as you walked into the room wearing a matching hoodie to his. you had no knowledge he had even worn the offending garment today. if you had, you wouldn’t be in yours, especially not in front of his members and their staff.  

“i’m pretty sure everyone already knows.” his teasing didn’t let up, even as he wrapped his arms around you, pleased to see you had fallen right into his trap. you faintly heard joshua scoff somewhere behind you, too focused on the man in front of you to really give him any attention, “you guys are gross.” 

whispers: when he wants to check in

“lovie,” his whisper pulls you from your thoughts. “i don’t think that pork will come back to life no matter how hard you stare at it. mingyu grilled it really well.” you rolled your eyes but turned to look at him nonetheless. he looked awfully handsome under the dim light of the bbq restaurant. he always looked handsome, you supposed. 

“are you okay?” he was still whispering. wanted to keep this moment as private as possible so you could speak freely. he knew dinner with his members could be a lot, especially after a long day at work. 

“you can tell me if you want to go. you know i’ll never pass up an opportunity to go home with you.” his eye dropped in a wink, and this time you smiled when you rolled your eyes. going home with him did kind of sound like a good idea…

breathes: in between kisses

“lovie,” it escapes him like a sigh, slipping out between you two in a heated moment. you were on his lap, completely blocking his view of the tv, and in the back of his mind he knows he wanted to see this one but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not with the way he is consumed with the feeling of your weight pressing on him, your warmth almost burning his skin even through layers of clothes. 

when you pull back and look at him, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. face oily and bare from the skin care you had completed before joining him on the couch for movie night, he’s never thought you more beautiful. he can feel your lip balm on and around his lips, a reminder you’d been there.

“whatever you’re doing, it’s working lovie,” he praises. “you’re practically glowing.” if he thought you were radiant before, you beamed under his praise. the last thing he saw before his eyes closed to continue kissing you was your toothy grin. 

giggles: behind cupped hands

“lovie,” he was snickering when he pulled you into a secluded corner of seungchoel’s apartment. game night was in full swing and you had just started the third round of mafia. while the rest of the members were distracted by mingyu and soonyoung’s bickering, he whisked you away, his mischievous smirk on his face. 

“can you keep a secret?” he was talking in hushed tones, hiding his mouth behind his hands to avoid prying eyes. when you nodded in confirmation, he leaned impossibly closer, breath tickling your ear. 

“i’m the mafia.” it took everything in you to keep your face neutral. you didn’t want to blow him in after he spilled such a big secret. it warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you his role in the game. “if you tell anyone, i’ll kill you next.” 

scrawls: on a post-it

“lovie,” the note brought heat to your cheeks. you really hoped your coworker at the desk across from yours didn’t notice. when had he even slipped this in? you packed your own lunch and he wasn’t even awake when you left for your shift this morning, still snuggled beneath your comforter when you pulled your shoes on and headed out the door. 

“i miss you. hope you’re having a good day!” his neat handwriting brought a smile to your face. this wasn’t the first time he had snuck a note into your lunchbox, but he didn’t do it often so this was really a treat. and on a friday, too! what a great way to end the week. 

“i can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.” you shared the sentiment. looking forward to a free weekend with no plans or schedules. free to rot in your bed for the next two days with your beloved. “love you!” 

[amaranthineghost]

THE MIGHTY HAS FALLEN (BUT YOU'LL RISE AGAIN, LOVE) ( max verstappen. )

max verstappen x reader

after a tough race cut short, max pushes away any person around him, but not her. never her. she always picks up the pieces to put him back together.

authors note: I love max. I know he's not the self-deprecating typa guy, but in this, he is, OKAY. charles is after this <333

HE WAS A BOMB. the fuse getting shorter and shorter every minute that his patience was tested. everything around him seemed to irritate him more and more as he tried to keep himself from exploding, for pr's sake.

he just wanted to avoid the media all together, for obvious reasons, but he was contractually obligated to give his words to the journalists under the media tent. putting him under a microscope and asking questions that had an undertone of scrutiny in hopes of catching him break. he was close, but he wouldn’t.

it hadn’t even been a fault of his own, he rarely made those anymore. the car had caught fire, but not due to a mistake he had made, and even if it had been, he wouldn't have admitted it anyways. still he felt the guilt of his lack of performance, beating himself up after every question asked about his car and what had happened.

it was just stupid. the questions were stupid. the car was stupid. this whole race was stupid.

the pressure to perform, even in the best car on the grid, was high. despite his seat being secured for plenty of years to come, he still had expectations to meet and records to break.

it was obvious to everyone that max was hard on himself every time he didn't perform his best, his girlfriend especially noticing when she’d find him in his very luxurious driver's room sulking at even the slightest of a mistake made by him.

it didn't happen often, but when it did, she'd been there for him. he knew that.

he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never be seen again because world champions don't make stupid mistakes.

even if this hadn't been a mistake he made, he should've known. even if there was no possible way he could’ve, he should've.

he was raised to believe that he was only deserving if he had been first, that he was destined to fail after every second place or worse finish.

so it wasn't surprising when he thought he didn't deserve her. in comparison, or more like his eyes, she was simply perfect.

and she understood him, which not many people could because he wouldn't let anyone pick apart his brain like she did.

he locked his thoughts and feelings in the dark that shrouded his mind from early childhood trauma. he promised he would never let anyone see.

but he was never great at keeping such promises because it hadn't taken much for her to pick the lock to his brain. even though he wasn't ready to spill every detail of his upbringing to her, he trusted her.

and he didn't get to do that all too often.

the media had been brutal—he knew they would be—and yet it still crushed his mentality and faith in himself.

with his race suit around his waist despite having time to change beforehand, he walked through the paddock in shame at the early retirement.

it wasn't like this determined the outcome of his career because the next race, he'd be back on top. he didn't feel so sure of it though because all his thoughts were on this failure. what if he failed the next race?

what if he failed the whole season? what if he fails her?

unlikely, the people know, but he had so much confidence which had so easily crumbled when it got a little too hot. he wasn't sure of himself anymore.

anyone could see the turmoil bubbling underneath his skin, harsh waves crashing in the ocean of his blue eyes as he pushed past anyone and everyone.

the walk through the paddock was short, considering the red bull motorhome was the first of ten. max hastily entered through the automatic doors, skipping steps as he was eager to hide out in his driver's room.

he felt the eyes of the staff follow him down the hall until he disappeared quickly around the corner. he didn't want to be seen by anyone.

the door to his driver's room closed as fast as it was opened, but much louder. she heard the slam of the door echo down the hallway.

she didn't flinch, she just calmly greeted staff with smiles and left a bag of sweets on the table for them. she always brought something for the team, to celebrate every victory and despite this not being one, they still deserved it for working hard.

since she had gotten there not too long after him, she lingered around the lobby. she didn't want to be waiting around for him to show up and have him brush her off because he wasn't in the right headspace.

he would never mean to dismiss her, and she knew to give him at least a little time to himself to think and process things. she couldn't give him too much time though because she didn't want his self-deprecating thoughts to eat away at his confidence.

from what she analyzed from the staff and their demeanor, he'd probably caught them off guard when he slammed his door.

she wouldn't apologize for his behavior because she would make him do it when he cooled down.

so she hung around and made small talk with the sparse staff around to allow max a few minutes to himself before excusing herself down the hall.

she had a bomb to defuse after all.

the clack of her heels on the hard floors bounced off the walls, but she walked quietly enough so max didn't hear her coming. he knew she would though. he knew she would find him with his head in his hands, barely covered in sweat because he didn't race for more than three laps.

his face was still flush with disappointment though. he didn't want her to see him like this even though she was with him during his last disappointing race, but even though his singaporean grand prix finish wasn't great, at least he hadn't been out of the race.

max hadn't DNF’d in two years because he was simply just that good, and he still is. he just didn't feel like it.

his hands pressed so hard against his eyes, the blood vessels in them would have popped if he pushed any harder. he had taken off his red bull hat, he felt he didn't deserve the number one right now. it was thrown lazily onto the makeshift bed in his driver's room.

the room was practically silent, every so often interrupted by a deep sigh of disappointment that escaped his lips. he had sat there for a good couple or minutes, sulking.

when she reached his door, she held the bouquet of flowers she always got for him close to her body with one arm while she raised the other to knock. her hand only slightly hesitated before her fist made contact with the door and a few seconds later, she tried entering. it was locked, which was usual whenever he was brooding.

at first, when max heard the knock, he thought of all the people last on his list that he would want to see right now, but on the bottom of the list was the person he wanted to avoid the most right now.

his dad.

their relationship was rocky. he never supported max at any place unless it was on the very top of the podium, and even then max thought he looked unpleasant.

“go away,” was all max could mutter through his hands as his heart started to pick up the pace.

she sighed, shaking her head with a smile pulling at her lips, “max.” it was all she needed to say.

part of him didn't want to let her in, he didn't want her to see him like this, but he knew she was just as stubborn as him, if not more. he knew she would stand there all day if he didn't open the door to let her in.

and he would always let her in.

she heard the low creak of the sofa she could imagine him sitting on, but not his footsteps while he made his way to the door. she only knew he heard her when the lock clicked and the door slowly opened inwards to reveal the red-faced max verstappen.

she stood staring at him, her head tilted as she studied his face. he didn't move, he just watched her eyes dart around his appearance, and he felt himself getting hot under his fireproofs.

“are you going to let me in, verstappen?” she teased, a sly smile on her lips as she watched her boyfriend roll his eyes.

he scoffed, stepping aside, “don't call me that.”

“what?” she acted innocent, stepping into his driver's room with the fresh flowers, seeing the already prepped vase, “don't call you by your name?”

“you know what I mean.” though he tried to keep a straight face and act like he was still mad, he couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto his lips. she just had that effect.

she heard the door close and lock again as she took the wrapping off and placed the flowers in the vase. she shrugged at his words, her back still towards him, but she knew he had sat back down.

“you didn't have to get those,” he mumbled, “didn't win.”

she sighed, crumbling the wrapping in her hand and throwing it away before walking to where he sat. she stood in front of him as he looked up at her.

even with heels, he was still much taller than her and even though he was sitting, he reached barely below her chin.

she spread her arms to offer a hug to him, which he gratefully took, his arms snaking around the low of her hips. pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, running her fingers through his hair.

she felt him sigh against her skin, his eyes closing as they stayed like that for minutes without speaking. she felt him caress the bare skin of her thigh with his thumb.

when they finally pulled apart, his hands still laid firmly on her hips, his hair disheveled from the hug. she ran her hands through it to fix it and he only watched as she did so.

when she finally finished after only ten seconds because guy hair is a lot less complicated than women’s hair, he finally spoke up, “why are you dressed so uncomfortably?”

she was slightly taken aback, seeing as he was just moping about his race not even ten minutes ago and now commenting on her appearance. he only assumed she was uncomfortable, but unfortunately his assumption was correct.

“what do you mean?” she looked down at her attire, which isn't so different from the other wags that she hung out with.

his hand snuck around the back of her thigh and pulled up her leg, “I thought I told you to stop wearing heels, you always complain about them.”

“i’m fine,” she said, about to cross her arms, but her balance said otherwise so she settled them on his shoulders for support.

he gave her an incredulous look because every time she wore heels, without fail, she would complain less than an hour into wherever they were that she wanted to sit.

“okay, i admit i can't wait to get these things off,” she let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her hip, “but I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”

she said in his response to take the heels off her feet for her, a simple gesture really, but this was about him.

“do you want to talk about it?” she massaged his shoulders as he threw her heels to the other side of the small sofa.

“nothing to talk about,” he shrugged, “maybe I don't deserve being first.”

she pushed his head to look up at her, shaking her head, “you just don't realize how much you deserve, max. you're a world champion, a three-time one,” she reassured him, “you've won countless races, and you still have the entire season ahead of you. I know you want to, but you can't let one bad race define your season.”

“I know, you're right.” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought deeply, “but I have to prove myself.”

“you've already done that plenty of times,” she shook his shoulders in emphasis, “besides you'll still lead the championship, unless charles gets p1, but you'll get it right back if that's the case.”

she was right. she always was, he never doubted her. he would never doubt her because she would never lie to him. she always backed up her answers by building up his ego and confidence back up so he was ready to fight it out on the track next race.

whether it took a couple of minutes or hours to bring his mood back up, she'd take her time in making him feel like the champion he was again.

she would take his phone from him, he didn't need to see the articles being written or the missing phone calls from his dad.

all he needed was her and she would always be there.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs

proofread by @foreveralbon <333