#might drop a smut or a fluff even

[edtriestowrite]

on my way to publish the first spanish elevator hitch fanfiction

[peachigummi]

is that right? ☏ mattheo riddle.

summary: both your parents had set up an arranged marriage. you both simply tolerated it for the most part, as it really was in the best interest for your respective families. over the year, you started to really develop feelings for each other - especially in wanting to expand the family name.

pairing: mattheo x fem! reader

warnings: jealousy, smut like literal major baby making so there is unprotected p in v and creampie, so breeding!kink, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, choking, gagging, slight bondage, almost public but not really?, cock warming... maybe slight daddy/mommy stuff naturally?. i think that's pretty much it fluff at the end. he is rough but talks you through it, praise!kink.

note: this is my first time ever writing smut...omg i almost didnt finish writing this LOL i had to stop midway then I had the post clarity and that shameful feeling HAHAHAH

word count: 7.5k

(slightly not really proofread...again)

reblogs & comments are appreciated! i hope you have fun!! tell me what you think!

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Both your parents had set up an arranged marriage for after you and Mattheo graduated from Hogwarts. You've been married for over a year now, living in a manor that housed both families. There was definitely some tension occurring, recently you’ve both started to further develop feelings. At first you tolerated your union as his family wanted to continue with a strong and pure bloodline, and your family simply wanted protection. 

You were sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair when Mattheo walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. He gave you a smug look, heading to the walk-in closet, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear, his back turned to you. You wouldn’t help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, you quickly return to brush the knots from your hair. 

From the vanity mirror you look at his chiseled back muscles. He still looks as good as the first day you met him. You had the luck on your side for that, at least the partner in your arranged marriage was good looking…yet you craved having a chance to fall in love organically. You could count on a single hand how many times you and Mattheo had been physically intimate. 

Mattheo put on a shirt and grey sweats, shit, before walking out of the closet to approach you. “I’ve heard from your parents that you’ve been talking to another guy at work?” he says calmly but firmly.

You thought about it for a second, “Charlie? Yeah, he’s in training.” After graduating Hogwarts you were able to quickly land a job with the M.O.M. while mattheo stuck with DAD…aka the family…business. I moved on to rub body oil on my legs and arms, not looking at him.

He tried to not pay any attention to you as you moved your hands in tight little circles. Mattheo would love a good massage right about now too, he took a step back and sat on his side of the massive bed, “and what do you talk to him about?”

“I mean,” you scoff at him, “Mattheo, it’s just training protocols. Showing him around the work area, how to do things, where things are at. Not much else to it than that.”

He clenched his jaw, he couldn’t deny that he had an attraction to you, but he always told himself to ignore it, “that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You stood up from the vanity, clicking closed the boy oil. Setting it down where it belonged, you enjoyed having a tidy space. You sat on your side of the bed.

He looked at the way your hips swayed in your night dress as you walked to your side. You turned your head to look back at him. He looked so tense, “I hope you’re not lying.”

You stayed quiet, of course he wouldn’t trust me. You had never given him a reason not to even before the start of this arrangement, so it annoyed you when he doubted you. That might just be his nature though. You slid into the satin bed sheets, they were nice and cool to the touch, much needed after a long day at work. You turned your bedside lamp off, encasing your both in darkness. Mattheo laid beside you, he usually took to his side, but tonight he was feeling a bit off so he wanted to be close to you. Not making physical contact but enough to where you notice his warm body. 

You kept your eyes open, your back turned away from him, what was he doing? He never slept so close to you. After a long period of silence you spoke up, feeling brave because it was dark. You wouldn’t see his expression and he wouldn’t see yours, “are you jealous, Mattheo?”

He sneered at the question, as if the idea of him being jealous was a crime, “of course not. I’m just concerned that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be.” There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, he hated to admit it but he didn’t like the idea of you with another man.

“I might have not had a choice, but I don’t plan to step out of this marriage. You have nothing to worry about.” You tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, trying to build distance from him, “I wish I could say the same with you…and your assistant.”

His face looked offended, but you couldn't see it, you could hear it in his voice, trying to keep it cool. “My assistant? You’re the only one that is allowed in my office.”

“That’s not what Draco told me.” Mattheo was able to recruit Draco back into the business. Draco was nice to you, he was like a brother figure. Your families were close. They would have arranged a marriage with him instead, but his mother decided against it. She believed in falling in love, and making the choice Draco’s. “He warned me to never let you go on any work trips or work late over time. He doesn’t trust your assistant. Draco told me she wants to take any opportunity to have you alone, where no one can see you two.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as he listened to you. He didn’t appreciate that Draco was telling you things about him, in fact was pissed. He sat up in bed, turning on his bedside lamp. He looked at you with furious eyes, “Draco has no idea what he’s talking about. My work assistant wouldn’t do such things!” That was a lie and he knew it.

“I trust Draco. Don’t you speak ill of him. Why are you defending her?! YOU’RE the one who should be telling me that you wouldn’t do such things with her!” You couldn’t help your own jealousy come forth, you nearly fell off the bed.

He grabbed your arm to pull you back on the bed. Mattheo spoke with a calm and firm voice, “you have my word that I have never, nor will i ever, do such things with my assistant. No other woman can have me the way you do.” He admitted with a smirk, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so your gaze would be on him only.

You didn’t thank him for catching you, but you were glad he did. You lost your concentration for a split second at his admission. You regained yourself, “fire her then.”

He laughed at your demand, “fire my assistant?” A wicked thought passed through it. He could use this to his advantage to make you feel jealous, test the water on how you felt about him, “Why would I do that? She helps me.”

You crossed your arms, “you have three choices.” You count up with your fingers, “You either fire her. Let me choose an assistant for yourself. Or you hire me to be your new assistant.”

He raised his eyebrow at your offers, but still kept his cool, He didn’t want to show how turned on he was by how demanding you were being at the moment, “you’re giving me an ultimatum…” he smirked slightly, “and you think I’ll just do as you demand?”

“You better mattheo. If you don’t want to take it for purely my sake, do it for your bloodline.” I rolled my eyes. Fighting back the blush, thinking one day I will carry his child. 

He groaned at the mention of the family purity, “is that right?” he said in a frustrated tone, “you know as well as I do that this marriage is a duty to our families.” He sighed. “Very well, i’ll take you up on your offer, be my new assistant.”

Your eyes grew wide. You didn’t actually expect him to take that choice, far as you could tell he enjoyed being away from you even if it was at work. “I’ll call my work in the morning. See? Not so bad that I was training Charlie, he can take my place.” You tried to read his face before laying back down, this time closer to the center of the bed.

He turned off his lamp again, “let it be done. But remember, as my new assistant, I won't go easy on you.” He teased, there was a small smile on his face he couldn’t straighten out.

You reached out to pinch his ear, “don’t let it get to your head. I’m still your equal as your wife. Don’t forget about that.” You turned your back to him once again, closing your eyes.

His smile only got bigger at how fierce you were being, he must have struck a chord. He has never seen you so jealous. “Yes, yes… of course my love.” he mocked in a quiet voice as he inched closer to you, laying by your side. Not making much contact, but enough to tease you. You rolled your eyes, he only ever used pet names to tease you. You wanted them to mean something. You remembered the way he came out of the shower, you thought about his wide shoulders, his collar bones.. You scoot your ass closer to his hips. Two can play at that game.

Mattheo’s breath hitched, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep. Goodnight.”

He was so close to snapping at you, but he didn’t want to take the bait, “night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next morning you woke up early to call and explain why you were leaving the ministry. You had to come up with a solid unsuspecting excuse. Mattheo’s family would not be too happy with it, being their spy and all, but if it meant my marriage could be successful, so be it. 

You were at the dining room table, it was empty. Everyone in the manor wouldn’t wake up for another half hour or so. Yet there was Mattheo in his black suit, “morning.” He found it amusing you were already ready for the day. He looked you up and down, a wave of lust surged through him. He thought you looked quite lovely, he almost said it outloud but resisted the urge.

“Good morning Mr. Riddle, sir.” You stood up, pulling his seat out. You rolled my eyes, but smiled sweetly at him, “I’m ready for my first day.”

He chuckled softly at how polite you were being, “are you now? And what are you looking forward to most today?”

One of the maids came by to set mattheo’s breakfast down. I smiled at her and waited until she left before continuing, “Sir, I'm looking forward to you firing your current assistant… in front of me.” You batted your lashes at him. Knowing you were going to meet her for the first and last time, you took extra care in how you looked.

“You really want to witness her losing her job, don't you?” He bit the corner of his mouth. 

“She should have watched the way she was acting with you, if she really cared about her job security.” Our blended family began to slowly trickle into the dining room, you laid a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. you kissed his head. We made the appearance of a blissful marriage around them, not wanting a rift to occur between the families, “I'll meet you at the car in 15, darling.”

He tried his hardest to maintain his facade as you kissed him and left. He again watched you walk away, your perfect figure made his body tingle with desire once more. He excused himself from the table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mattheo turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt first to get out so he could open your door, “are you ready, my dear?” he questioned though he knew the answer. He didn’t think there would be any hesitation from you in regards to what was about to happen.

You nodded, straightening out your skirt. You followed him into the building. You felt uneasy to be around so many people who have caused harm and were plotting to do more. At least your family was safe, as long as you were with the Riddles.

Mattheo noticed and held your hand as he led you to his office, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He offered you a chair in front of his desk before going around to sit at the main chair.

You couldn’t help but smile, you let it drop just as quick too. It’s all just part of the agreement. If something were to happen to you, poof~ there goes the bloodline. 

“Good morning, Mattheo.” A woman with a sickly sweet, sickly high pitched voice said with the entry.

He gave her a brief glimpse, he could already tell he would get a headache. His assistant was wearing a tight fitting top with a ridiculously short skirt, she was pouring him a cup of coffee.

You watched as his eyes followed her, gripping tightly at the chair’s arm. Draco was right, no one in their right mind would think of dressing that skimpy for work, if they were truly just there to get shit done. “It’s Mr. Riddle to you.” You said taking your left hand to your chin, making sure your wedding ring was up and front ready to gawk at.

Mattheo looked at you, he loved the way your demeanor was changing. He could see the jealous and possessive energy oozing off of you. He found it quite intriguing, a part of him wanted to test your limits. He reached out to accept the cup of coffee from his assistant, “is it just like how I like it?” “Yes Mr. Riddle. Just how you like it” she said, leaning over to him, finishing the stir. This made her skirt even tighter and her breasts were there to peep into.

You stared at Mattheo hard, expecting him to say something to the woman. He felt you, he had to admit he also was quite displeased at how his assistant behaved around him, but it was all fun and game.

“Now, what do I have scheduled for today?”

Before the woman could answer you interrupted. “I know one thing you have scheduled, Mattheo.” You tapped your foot. You needed her gone. Now. Draco - you’ll have to thank him at the next dinner party. You should have done something sooner. You can’t believe your husband was letting this slut work around him, dictating what he did by the hour.

Mattheo’s eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, he was a bit caught off guard at your interruption. He was so amused by how impatient you had become.

“Well we do have a meeting to go with the Boyles in an hour, can this wait?” His assistant said puffing her chest out to make it appear larger. You hated that she said we instead of you. That bitch. You got up from your seat, going around the desk to stand behind Mattheo. You snaked both arms over his shoulders and down his chest.

He held back a groan as your soft touch distracted his thoughts for a moment. He loved that you were making it clear he was yours. He snapped out of it when he remembered he was still in the presence of his assistant so he looked back at her, all the mock gone from his voice, “i’ll be quick… You’re fired. You're no longer needed here.”

The blood drained out of the woman’s face, her shoulder’s immediately fell. You gave her a fake condolences look.

“W-wuh why? What did I do? Is this because of the office party last week? It won’t happen again, it was wildly inappropriate.” She composed herself, taking a stab at you with the last portion. You brought your hands to Mattheo’s shoulders and squeezed hard slowly, as to not bring attention to the action.

His eyes darkened, “You knew the rules. My father specifically told you when you started not to try anything with me. But even after making it clear, you still chose to try and make a move on me at my own party.” His voice was deep, hiding the amusement that lay underneath.

Even though you hated the confession, you couldn't help but appreciate Mattheo’s honesty. You lessened the grip on his shoulders, rubbing out the part you dug in your nails as a way of saying thank you.

“I was so drunk Mr. Riddle. I’m terribly sorry. I really need this job. I thought you were needing something else…I thought you weren’t getting pleased right. Mattheo, I'm sorry don’t fire me.” You wanted to scream as she pleaded. You can hear the poison off the back of her tongue. Seriously, that Bitch! With that comment you returned to dig your nails into Mattheo.

“My needs are none of your concern.” Mattheo spat at her, but she was right. He has been craving a certain kind of touch for far too long now. He did enjoy a good begging, no matter who it came from, but he wasn’t going to go against his marriage. 

You felt him hold your left hand, flipping it so that both the back of your hands were facing the woman, he was showing your matching rings, “I am perfectly happy in my marriage.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he meant that, or if it was just for show. I was happy too wasn’t I?

The woman looked at your hands that were pressed together, despite her disappointment, she knew there was nothing she could do so she bit her tongue and nodded in response. You watched her every movement, as she collected herself. She still didn’t bother pulling down her skirt or buttoning up her shirt, it was as if she still wanted Mattheo to see what he would have missed out on. To leave this image with him as a parting gift.

He simply stared at the clock, “you have three minutes to collect your things before security arrives to escort you out of the building. Do not leave anything behind because it will be incinerated. My father will deal with your severance…if he gives you anything. Especially after I tell him why I had to fire you.”

She turned to the door, stole a glance back at Mattheo, and left the room. You stayed put behind Mattheo. You didn’t want him to see your face just yet. You needed to cool down. 

He groaned loudly and leaned back into your touch, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t even know why I kept her for so long. She wasn’t even that good at her job” he smirked, still wanting to test you.

“Don’t play stupid, I know I won't. Clearly there was something going on!” You scoffed, “to think you were getting so mad at Draco for warning me!”

He took your hand pulling you over to sit on his lap, “there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn’t ask her for anything outside of work related things. I would have never let her touch me, she thought I was unhappy in our marriage.”

“Why would she think you were unhappy hmm? Why was she assuming, let’s be honest, she assumed correctly that you weren’t getting needs met. How were you acting with her, tell me now.” You couldn’t help but feel like a little girl on his lap, a little girl who was throwing a tantrum for not wanting to share a beloved stuffed animal.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as he spoke into your ear, “it was probably because I was often short tempered with her, but I promise it was mostly due to her not doing her job correctly.” His lips brushed against your neck.

Yeah that kind of sounds like Mattheo, he liked things done a certain way, and he didn’t like when it veered off the track. But then again, even in school he was a massive flirt. So how much was the tension between the two due to his short temper and how much was his charm? 

“She’s not worth even a moment of your thought.” He mumbled against your ear, sending a shiver down to your core. He placed a gentle kiss right under your jaw. His hands ran down your thighs, squeezing ever so lightly.

You let out a faint moan, “Mattheo…” You couldn’t remember exactly the last time you were like this, it was very rare. While in school, you remembered how everyone wanted him. He allowed them to play games with him, he loved to toy with them too. But the girls knew, they ultimately knew they had no chance ending up with him. Our arranged marriage wasn’t a secret. 

He continued to press kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking gently on your skin, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch. He grabbed one leg and forced you to face him, your knees now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He then wordlessly cast a spell on the door with his wand, so it wouldn’t be opened. He didn’t even look at the door, he didn’t need to carefully aim. You could feel your core getting embarrassingly wet at the simple gesture. “Mattheo, we shouldn’t..” you panted. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He responded, though he didn’t stop his ministrations. He captured your lips with his, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. His hands exploring over your body. 

You let your hands go up the back of his neck, tugging at his dark curls. They were so soft and velvety. Fuck. He felt so good, you could feel him press against yourself. You forgot how big he was, you wanted to just dry hump him to feel satisfied with yourself right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to it, you tried to speak between his hasty sloppy kisses, “Matty…you do have a meeting soon.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, “then do your job. and cancel. it.” He said through gritted teeth, planting kisses on your collarbone. Without looking he pulled his phone closer to you. He hoped you would make the right choice.

You nodded shifting in his lap, earning a groan. What a start to my new job. “What’s the extension to Boyle’s assistant?” You grabbed the receiver trying to hold it and keep your breath steady. Mattheo whispered it against your ear lobe. You grew impatient once more as you continued to hear it ring on the other end. C’mon answer.

“Hello, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi um” you looked down at Mattheo’s sweet brown eyes that were following you, pleading with yours, you tried to get him to pause with his lip exploration for a second, “I’m Mr. Riddles’ new assistant - we..I..we..sorry he needs to” damn ..girl I NEED TO! Mattheo muffled his own giggle with his hand. Enjoying how you kept messing up, obviously your mind has started to get clouded.

“Y/N/N?” The woman on the other receiver said, your old nickname from school.

“Oh my god, Daphne? Hey! I didn’t recognize your voice…!”

He watched you with slight amusement.

Daphne started to ramble on about how she started at this job, on any other day you would have totally loved to entertain her and catch up. You got along very well, but you cut her off as she explained, “um Daphne, we should go out for some coffee soon, we can talk then. It’s just that Mattheo needs the meeting with the Boyles rescheduled.”

“Oh..okay..is everything alright? It was an important meeting…”

Not as important as this.

“Everything is fine, is there a different time we can meet? Push it back a couple more hours?” You looked over at his schedule that his previous slut of an assistant left. You both ended up agreeing on a later time, you quickly thanked her and said goodbye. You clicked the receiver down, putting the do not disturb on for good measure too. 

“Where were we?” you shyly said, looking at his eyes that were gleaming with desire and excitement.

“I was thinking we could restart from here..” He readjusted you back on his lap, slipping a hand under your skirt skimming along the line of your panty. 

You missed his touch, his hands could sometimes be so cold to the touch that they felt like they left a burning trail. He pulled back slightly, picking you up by your ass to set you down on the edge of his desk. He used his hands to open your legs wider, ever so gently “Is it okay if I touch you right here?” you were already nodding before he finished, “Use your words with me. Do you want me to touch you here?” He padded his thumb against your core, still over your panties. “Yes Mattheo, please please touch me.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly, he could already feel the want and need pouring off of you, and it was driving him equally if not more insane. He pushed your skirt up higher, revealing yourself to him. Ran his hands over your hips massaging them as you had done the night before. They felt so soft and squishy. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, leaning on your forearms. You moved your head forward to look at him when he retracted his hands. He had sat back down in his chair, admiring how he had you. You felt like you were under a microscope, to be so exposed. You tried pressing your legs back together.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, “don’t hide. Let me see you.” he pushed your knees back apart to regain his view. He pulled your dominant hand forward, he also leaned forward so you could touch the side of his face, “show me how you please yourself.” He watched with a hungry expression, clearly enjoying how you blushed and got flustered. Mattheo gently rubbed his thumb along your burning cheek softly, then traced it against your bottom lip asking for entry, “there’s no need to be shy with me, my love.” His voice was sweet and soft, “I promise I wont judge you, you are my wife after all.”

You let his thumb go into your mouth. You sucked on it, not once breaking eye contact, “shit y/n, that’s my pretty princess.” with his free hand he slid underneath his own pants and readjusted himself into a comfortable position. He took your dominant hand once more, putting it over your core. “Show me.”

You hesitated again to make a move on yourself, Mattheo pulled his thumb out of your mouth so he could wrap his hand around your neck, “don’t make me say it again.”

Oh my shit. “Sorry” you managed to choke out through his alternating grip intensity. You went over your panties to play yourself. You were so wet. Your hand was shaking with nerves as you rubbed over your entrance, letting your slick arousal coat them before moving them between your folds and finally at your clit. Mattheo was looking down at your movements. The hand that wasn’t around your neck, he helped by holding your panties out of the way, “so pretty, you’re glistening.”

“You..you have this effect on me Matty. This is all for you.”

“Good, you’re mine.” He choked you hard then lessened it once more, “and i'm yours.” He kissed you again before watching you play with yourself. You kept rubbing your clit for him. He let go of your neck, you felt your blood rush back to your brain. Mattheo unbuttoned your top, unclasped your bra and started to play with your breasts. Alternating and teasing each nipple. “So perfect.” He grinned against your nipples, biting it and blowing cool air on it. You yelped and he covered your mouth, “shhh.” He unlatched himself from you and sat down. He rubbed himself through his pants before undoing his belt. His eyes never left your wet core, it was purring for him.

He let out a small sign, laughing. You felt insecure for a split second, “what?”

“Nothing..you’re just doing..it wrong”

“Huh?”

“Here let me help you, princess. I’ll show you how I'd do it.” he moved his chair closer, moving your hand away. He just rubbed the middle and ring finger along your heat, it grant him a moan, “y/n, as much as I love hearing you like this. You’ve gotta stay quiet.”

You bit your lip hard, “I’ll try Mattheo but..”

“None of that, you must do as I say.” he gently inserted one finger inside you, curling it up against your wall. You moaned louder. He whipped his single digit out, “you’re so needy, even with a single finger? Sweet Salazar, what am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless.” He let out a haughty laugh.

“Baby..please.” You watched him stand up, taking his belt off the loops of his pants. You thought he was finally doing to give you what you wanted most, but instead he just wrapped it around your head, tightening it around your mouth, closing it.

“I’m really sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you just wont keep your mouth shut.” He wasn’t a bit sorry, you can tell by how he looked down at the sight of you. He was actually quite pleased. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, it was a sharp contrast to the leather belt wrapped around your mouth. Seeing you like this was beyond his wildest dreams, gagged before him. Mattheo sat back down continuing where he left off, but this time he inserted two of his fingers. He didn’t allow you to adjust to them. The belt indeed muted your cry. It hurt, you didn’t dare use two of your own fingers on yourself, and here he was with hands that were twice the size of yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess.” He whispered, inserting his fingers all the way and pulling them out the same. You felt a tear running down your cheek. He began to rhythmically curve them when they were inside you. The pain was quickly subdued with pleasure. You laid back on the desk arching yourself so he could go in deeper, “so now you want more huh?”

Still fingering you, he went back to suck on your nipples. He towered over you, you shook your head, “what is it?” He looked at your concern. You looked at his fully clothed body, wrapping your hand around his tie. You were naked, apart from your skirt, but it was so bunched up at your hips it didn’t matter. You couldn’t  be the only one bare right now, you want to see his body, “how are you still bossy with your mouth shut?” He laughed, pushing your hand away, “news flash, I’m your boss now. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Despite his words, he did take off his tie first, wrapping it around your wrists, goddammit, before taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only half way. You could look at his chest that was peaking. You felt yourself drool against the belt.

He sat back down and continued to finger you relentlessly. He pulled out and tasted his fingers, “too bad you’re gagged. I would have liked you to taste yourself. At least I have your cunt to myself.” he welcomed himself into you again. He slowly ran his warm tongue up your slit, stopping at your clit. He did this a couple of times. It was so agonizing. Your eyes were bobbing around unable to stay open. With your hands tied you were still able to hold his head down to stop and focus on your clit.

Mattheo would have swatted your hands away, but he needed your touch as well. He wanted to make you feel amazing, he wanted you to forget your name and only respond to “wife”. But god did he also just want to already bury his cock deep inside you to feel some relief. He needed to be patient.

Your breath began to get shallow and unsteady. He groaned against your clit, your pussy was repeatedly clenching around his fingers, indicating you were close. 

His lips curled devilishly, he was thinking about denying your orgasm. He only wanted you to cum on his cock and nothing else. The only reason why he didn’t is because he loved the taste of you too much to stop, “you can do it, doll. Come for me let me taste it.”

You began to shake and grab a fist full of curls as you came. He gradually slowed down, helping you ride out your orgasm. You felt so relaxed.

He looked so full of himself. He pulled his face away from you, his lips were red and swollen from his own work. Mattheo held up his right hand, the one that was fingering you, you could see the wetness on it. 

With his clean hand he pulled down his pants and underwear in one quick motion. Rubbing his cock with his right hand, letting your cum wet it. He used two fingers to beacon you over, before he realized you couldn’t move.  He left your wrists still tied, and pulled you forward onto your feet. “Look me in the eye, princess. Do you promise to be quiet now?” 

You could only nod. That was enough for him, because he had other plans to occupy your mouth. He removed the belt around your mouth. With your still bonded hands you wiped the spit around your mouth, “God, damn.”

He laughed, “I don't remember being called God before, but you can't continue with its use.” 

Before you could reply with something snarky, he pushed you down onto your knees and had the tip of his cock at your lips, “Sorry, I can’t actually trust you to be quiet, so open wide and take it.”

You obeyed. Though you could only take nearly half of it before it started your gag reflex, “i love that sound baby,” he signed, “is it too big for you?” He didn’t really care for an answer, of course it was. It would have just inflated his ego more. 

“C’mon and let me in more.” slobber just kept going down your chin and onto your breasts. He bucked his hips at the sight, “you’re so fucking pretty.” Mattheo gathered your hair into two bunches, using them as handlebars. He was straight throat fucking you at this point. You began to feel faint, and he saw it too, so he pulled his cock all the way out allowing you to breathe. “You’re doing so good.” He kissed you on the lips, using his shirt to help clean your chin.

You were just about to say thank you when he reinserted his cock into your mouth. You pull your head back and he actually allows you. With your bound hands you stroke the portion of his cock that you couldn’t take in, pumping it. Admiring the veins running down it . You wrap your lips around his lip, swirling your tongue around. His precum was like a classified drug to you, it was so delicious. You kept at your pace wanting more to come out, “you’re obsessed” Mattheo pointed out thrilled.

“Talk to me, love” He touched your ear lobe. 

You spoke to him with his cock still in your mouth, so it slurred your speech, “yob ase s’ gob.” 

He chuckled but groaned with the vibrations your voice made, “what was that?”

You stopped sucking, “you taste so good!” you smile at him. This brought him to his knees, literally he kneeled beside you, he removed the tie around your wrists rubbing them for you. Both your eyes are on the same level now.

“You really are beautiful.” He said causing you to blush. “Don’t turn all shy on me now, princess.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear in a soft gesture. “We’re far from being shy with each other right now.” Mattheo kissed you.

“I just like hearing you say that, my king.”

With a voice filled with affectionate warmth, “when you call me that it makes me want to keep you by my side forever, my precious princess.” He began to kiss you harder, “I want to keep you forever.” He pushed his soft side out of the way and pushed you onto your knees in front of him You arched your back so your ass was in the air, “this is what you fucking teased me with last night.”

You laughed, “yeah I know.”

“So you wanted this bad huh?”

“Yess Matty I want you.” 

He admired the scene in front of him. He kneaded your ass, biting it and making your cry again. “Don’t make me use the belt again.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” You cupped your own mouth. You saw his jacket on the floor and took it under your head.

“You’re so obedient, it's very good. How haven’t I bred you sooner? I want you pregnant with the next Riddle heir.” He ran a hand slowly over your back, gently but possessively.

“I have actually been thinking the same thing. My body is ready for your seed, im..im ready for it.”

When you agreed with his wish it only made something in him pop, something shifted in Mattheo’s eyes. The hunger and desire growing. 

He spat out at your spread exposed pussy, as if it wasn’t already sopping wet. He just liked the idea of having his bodily fluids in you. He rubbed his full length on the outside of your slit, teasing you, “you think your tiny pussy can take my cock better than your mouth?”

Shit…actually that was an honest question. The few times you tried already, you were only able to take in 3/4th of his length before tearing and asking him to stop. Plus you both haven’t fucked in a long while, “Matty, I’ll try by best…” you sounded a little uneased. 

He pulls on your arm turning you to look behind at him, “We don't have to rush this. But I promise i’ll make it good for you if you let me. You’re my wife and you will be the mother of my children soon enough.” He let go of you, bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, biting them roughly before going to your ear, “I’ll try to take it slow, but I really need you to take all of me in, darling. I need my seed to make it directly into your womb. I don’t want it to possibly drip out. You can do it.”

You moaned at his words of encouragement, you will try your best. He continued to stroke your hair, “listen to me: you’re my everything. And I won't let you get hurt, okay?” He kissed your temple, “if it is too unbearable, just tell me and I'll stop. Nothing is more important to me than your comfort and trust…but I do want you to give me a baby. A couple of them.” He laughed like his usual self, “so please try hard to take me like a good girl.” 

You pulled at his hair harshly, “just fuck me Riddle.” with that he slapped your ass leaving a red welt in the shape of his hand and squeezing it to lengthen the pain, “atta girl”. He finger fucked you a little bit more before realigning the tip of his dick to your hole. 

You closed your eyes, and he began to press into you. It wasn't so bad, actually it already felt amaz - -- okay nevermind. He felt you squeeze around him, and he stopped to reassess the situation, “please princess, let me in.”

“Matty I don’t…I dont think I can” you gripped onto his jacket for dear life.

“You can and you will.” He reached over to rub your clit, it helped relax you and he kept sinking deeper and deeper in you. You bit the jacket. It was a crazy mix of pain and pleasure.

“There we go.” he was satisfied, he was finally balls deep inside you, “see I knew you could do it.” He stayed still trying to let your pussy try to adjust around him, “you’re so fucking tight. Actually, I was having second thoughts, but here we are.” He said proudly kissing your neck from behind.

“You’re so fucking huge Mattheo, you’re too good to me.” 

“I adore you” he whispered, “there’s no one else like you. You’re…you’re the love of my life. Both our parents saw that before we did. They knew we were meant for each other when they arranged our marriage.” He groaned as you squeezed him purposefully this time.

“I love you Mattheo. I do.” You manage, your words felt true to each other. With a tender grip he starts  to move his hips slowly away from you only to slam back in. Watching your face for any sign you wanted him to stop but all he got was a smile and, “I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Without proper warning he quickened his pace holding you face down to the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, locking your jaw. You inhaled his smell through his jacket. Pain was being replaced with a pleasurable numbness. Your brain was going utterly stupid, “make me pregnant Mattheo. Let me make you into a proper daddy.” 

He chuckled at that, “fucking take my dick then. I’ll make you the most beautiful mommy there is. You're such a good wife and I know you’ll be the best mother to my children.”

Mattheo pressed his hand just under your belly button, he took one of your hands and pressed it there with you, “can you feel my cock, darling? You can feel it through your tummy.”

“Yes I can. I feel so full.” You moan.

His grunt and thrusts began to get sloppy, his balls slapping against your clit. It made you roll your eyes behind your head, “princess, I think…” 

“Me too, let's cum together. Let's mix ourselves more.” You raised your ass higher, tilting it ignoring the back pain you were getting.

“I’m going to fill you up even more,” he whimpered, his voice faltering as if he was about to cry, “don't let anything drip out. Take it all in okay?” You nodded, holding your head up and twisting it so uncomfortably around to the side so you can watch him release himself into you. What a sight for sore eyes. 

His curls were plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Mattheo’s eyes looked back at your eyes with a longing you haven't seen before, “I love you Y/N. thank you thank you thank you.” He began to repeat, as he shot a large load into you. He was right, you could feel your tummy grow already. You followed shortly after, squeezing and milking his cock out more.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he came down from his climax. His body was trembling, but he held you tightly. His face buried in the crook of your neck, “that was incredible.” He looked at you with adoration and contentment, “you’ve given me everything i’ve ever wanted. Thank you.”

“Thank you for choosing me after all.”

Mattheo was about to pull out, but you didn’t allow him. You pulled at his shirt, making him spoon you on the floor. You wanted to warm his cock, but also use it to continue plugging in his cum inside of you, to be marinated. You told him this too, and he flushed, “hey you said we wouldn’t be getting shy with each other, it’s too late for that.” He laughed making his dick still twitch inside you, you let out a moan. He grinned mischievously. You gave him an uncertain look.

Mattheo looked at the clock “yeah we should probably just move the meeting to a different day.”

“Do I really have to call it in again?”

“Yes yes you do, you’re my new assistant remember?” 

“Yeah and soon to be the mother of your children too.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. “I promise to take care of you and our little ones,” he said with sincerity, “You’ll be the most beautiful, loving mother, and I'll support you every step of the way.”

He tugged on the phone’s cord, pulling it so that it drops on the floor beside the two of you, “go on call again. Move it for next week.” He starts kissing your jaw again, moving his hips and slithering his hand back to your clit, “I hope you didn’t think we were finished, I think I can give you more of my cum to hold.”

“Mattheo…” 

[patrophthia]

mini skirt | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.5k

genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am

smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing

summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.

Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.

There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"

Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."

"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"

He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"

You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."

And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"

"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.

Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."

"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."

His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.

But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.

You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"

His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."

You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."

"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.

"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"

Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."

You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."

"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."

There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"

"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."

It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.

Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.

"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"

"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.

Fuck, Blaise was not lying.

In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"

"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."

It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"

"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."

His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.

He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.

He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"

You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"

And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."

"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."

His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."

Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.

It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.

"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"

Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"

You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"

You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"

Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”

“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”

Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”

Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."

You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.

"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.

Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.

Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."

"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"

"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."

"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.

You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.

His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.

Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.

Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."

Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."

And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.

"Hey, I liked those!"

"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."

"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."

You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."

"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."

" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."

"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."

" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."

Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.

"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."

The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."

You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”

“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."

And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”

“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”

“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.

"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"

You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"

“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”

You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"

"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."

Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.

Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.

Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"

Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"

"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."

"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.

"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."

Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."

"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.

"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.

"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"

"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."

"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"

Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.

"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."

Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"

— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡

[teamred]

focus on me

✩‌ qimir x acolyte!reader | smut | fluff | 2.5k

SUMMARY | in which the tension finally breaks between you and your master when you train together one afternoon.

WARNINGS | smut, s*xual force choking, knee foreplay, finger sucking, f*ngering, dirty talk, piv s*x, unprotected s*x, violence (fighting and choking)

RATING | explicit

NOTES | i'm simply a girl who's fallen to the dark side for qimir!!! qimir's lowkey a softie in this, which might not be canon, but idc!!!

You stumble back with your palm soiled wet. 

Thankfully, you grounded the rest of your weight with your makeshift wooden staff. Panting, you drag yourself upward, readying yourself for what’s to come next. 

Sweat drips down your forehead as the sun begins to dip into the horizon beyond the abundance of trees and overgrowth, the heat felt by your exposed arms and through your thin sleeveless wrap top.

It's been more than two hours of training, but your master knows your limit. Pushes you until you break–and he knows you’re far from your breaking point. 

Perspiration also stains his forehead. Master Qimir wipes it away with the back of his hand, moving his hair aside too. 

Moments like these, you pride yourself in knowing his identity after years of him preserving his anonymity behind that intimidating, powerful mask. He’s gained followers over time since you've known him, but you’re his one and only acolyte. 

Your mind wanders further. Why does he choose to wear his mask in public when he can make nations fall to their knees just with a flash of his smirk? 

Said smirk is plastered on his face as he twirls his two batons between his fingers with ease. Beyond his smirk, there was also the ordeal of seeing his glistening, gorgeous arms every day and– 

Your master calls out your name playfully, “I hope you’re focusing on me.”

“You know I am, Master.” You’re not exactly lying. You inch closer, holding your staff firmly with both hands and pointing one end of it in his direction. 

He tsks and lets out of a deep chuckle. It always bothers you how his chuckles make your heart skip a beat, among the other things it does to the rest of your body.  

“You're focusing on things about me, Acolyte. Not on me directly, nor on my presence,”—he paces in a circle around you, with you tracking his every step—“If this was a real fight, you’d be dead.”

“Well, I can’t help it that my master can be so distracting!” you grit out, taking the opportunity to lunge towards him. 

Weapons clash. Loud echoes continually reverberate throughout the forest, along with your occasional grunts. 

Master Qimir’s style is aggressive and swift, always on the offense, so you’ve become accustomed to defend his moves well. He comes in with one baton towards your side, and the other towards your head. You deflect both smoothly, and without much thought, you decide to attack him. 

However, your confidence blinds you.

Too close. 

He elbows your arm and slams into your side, causing your staff to drop.  

Then, Qimir shoves you far with the Force, distancing you from your weapon, and gets close again to hook his foot around yours. Your back stings as you fall down. 

In the blink of an eye, he pins you down with both batons tightly pressed against your throat, cutting off your air supply. You struggle under him, trying your best to smack him away with your diminishing strength. 

“Breathe, think, and focus,” he calmly orders, despite the agonizing scene in front of him. 

You take a second to compose yourself, inhaling as much as you can for a second.

Suddenly, you feel his knee move up between your legs, spreading them.

And you feel him moving upwards again, but this time brushing against your core. 

Your sparring composure absolutely shatters–a gasp and small moan release, and you’re back to struggling once more. 

You assume it was a mistake, but you’re relishing in the pleasure nevertheless, even in your current state of distress. 

“Focus, my acolyte,” Master Qimir barks, and he presses the batons harder into you. “Focus!” 

Your vision begins to blur alongside the increasing pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Gathering all your might and wanting to avoid disappointing Qimir, you breathe as much as you can and drown out everything to focus on how to get out of the situation. 

With a sliver of consciousness left, you will yourself to use the Force and seize your staff. Your fingers clutch around it and you thwack Qimir hard on the head, disorienting him for a moment. Without hesitation, throughout your excessive gasping, you skillfully maneuver yourself to switch positions. 

Now, your staff is pressed against his throat. 

“Is this better, Master?” you pant and cough with a grin, basking in your success. “Am I focused now?” 

He grants a brief nod, but you notice an unusual look in his eyes. 

It reads as a rare time he’s overly impressed, but there’s something else. 

Qimir raises his hand and gently curls it around yours, wordlessly asking you to lower your weapon. You ruffle your eyebrows, unsure why he’s letting down his guard against you during training.

“Master Qimir,” you whisper, still holding your staff to the side with a relaxed but guarded grip, “is this another test of yours?”  

He shakes his head, his touch now carefully grazing your forehead and cheeks. Your staff rolls away as your eyes flutter, savoring this foreign feeling from him–tenderness, affection, warmth. A hand softly cups your face. 

“Training’s over for today.” 

The warmth fades into familiar roughness with a sharp pull by the back of your neck downwards. 

His mouth drives into yours, each kiss igniting fire within you, sparking every inch of your body. Desire is bursting at the seams. He kneads your neck and body intently, mirroring you as you clutch onto his face and sturdy frame. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you had never fantasized kissing Qimir before, but this is everything you dreamed of and better.  

“Master–” you gasp sharply at the sensation of him pressing his knee up against you again. Reflexively, you writhe as your body screams for more. 

“You like this a lot…” His tone drips of arrogance. Further pressure is added and he happily inhales your moans between his teasing chuckles.   

You manage to muster the following amidst the rising pleasure, “So it was intentional before.”

“Of course.” His words are muffled as he leaves open-mouthed kisses upon the side of your neck. Your fingers dig further into his shoulder and scalp as he cups your breast. “You need to learn to push aside your desires when training.” 

“Should we stop then?” The neck kissing sears you, especially when he tugs skin between his teeth to bite and suck. “To teach me a lesson?” 

He shakes his head and removes himself from your neck, coming back up to drag your lower lip between his teeth. 

“It doesn’t mean I want to push aside my desires.” 

You catch a fleeting glimpse of his signature smirk before his lips are on yours again. Kisses become more electric as he dips his tongue into your mouth.

Hands fly erratically and grasp everywhere. His arms. Your ass. Fingers running beneath his top, feeling up his abs. His harsh grips of your thighs. 

Unexpectedly, he holds you close and flips you over; you’re back on top of him again and you can surely feel his prominent desire against yours. 

In a rush, you bunch up his thin shirt and attempt to pull it off him. He sits up with you in his lap and, with a fluid flick of his wrist, he rids you of your clothes and they are tossed to one side; his follow suit. Qimir promptly draws his nearby robes closer to be placed underneath you both, covering yourselves from the soiled forest. 

The look in his eyes is unmistakably lust-filled, completely insatiable. He wastes no time in taking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking and lips puckering, while one hand holds you by your back and the other dips two fingers into your desire, wet and ready for him. 

You arch into him, leaning your head back and letting yourself go. Wanting to reciprocate, you reach out to stroke his cock. Relishing in the pleasure, he draws back his head, eyes closed, and leans his forehead against your chest.

The forest may be filled with the rustling of the wind against the trees and the odd bird cawing, but all you can focus on is Qimir’s throaty groans and every obscene squelch when he slides his fingers in and out of you. 

He glances up and attempts to open his eyes as much as he can to give you his full attention, despite the heavenly strokes you’re giving him. 

Eyes shine back at you with the utmost vulnerability–a sight you never see. A sight that you want to etch into your memory forever, knowing you, his Acolyte, could make your Master weak and let his guard down with just your touch. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve held myself back…”

The vulnerability dissipates as he darts his tongue against your untouched nipple. 

“...wanting to see you like this for me.” 

You two become one for a while as he plays with you like a toy he just received as a gift. He tries you out, sees what you like and what you can handle. How sensitive you are with your breasts. How many fingers you can take. How much noise you make when he thumbs your clit. 

At one point, he eventually removes his fingers from you, evidently drenched from your bliss. He holds out his fingers in front of you, and you realize what he’s suggesting.   

Obediently, like you always are with him, you open your mouth and let his fingers lay on your tongue. You wrap your mouth around them, and finally let yourself suck on them a bit, tasting yourself and treating his fingers as if it were his cock. 

When you finish, to your surprise, he sticks his fingers into his own mouth, sucking off the remnants of you. He then kisses you deeply. Tasting yourself in his mouth excites you, riles you up again and back to wanting the next step with Qimir. 

As if reading your mind, he adjusts himself to lay back down vertically, and takes you by your wrist to lead you to sit onto him. 

You hold his possession against you between your legs, teasing his tip by not quite sitting onto him fully, indulging in your control over him. However, at this point, Qimir lacks patience, so he grasps you by your waist and forces you to ease onto his length.  

The guttural moan you release could easily be heard at all ends of the forest. 

He fills you deliciously, stretches you in the sweetest way possible. Using the strength of your thighs and your hands to keep you steady, you bounce at a comfortable pace, not wanting this to end just yet.

When you find a good position to balance your weight, you allow yourself to stroke his perfect body. His chiseled abs. The solid planes of his chest. His strong forearms. The sharp jawline that you dream of kissing almost every night.

“You take my cock so well.” 

A more familiar look flashes through his eyes, one that you normally see him flash prior to slaying Jedi or when he's in a bad mood. It’s drenched with darkness and dominance, almost bordering on fury.   

You freeze, and then you feel it.

The constriction around your throat, created by the Force. He can easily kill you within seconds. He's done this only once to you, and that was when he was testing your loyalty to him years ago.

But this is different. Different than that time, and most definitely different than before with his batons. This is more controlled; the hold is mostly against the sides of your windpipe and it isn't overtly harsh. 

On top of that, your entire body is on fire, becoming wound up by this act.  

“Do you enjoy this?” he asks, tone teetering between curiosity and being threatening.

“Yes,” you mentally scream.

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“Yes,” you manage to croak. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Master.” 

“Nu-uh,” he says. “Say my name, my beautiful acolyte.”

You're too distracted to be caught up in the fact that he called you beautiful. Instinctively, you want to ride this new sensation to lead you to another high. But you know that if you don’t reply, he might not let you get there. 

“Yes, Qimir.”

His signature smirk takes up his whole face and your pussy clenches tighter at the sight of it. He may have the upper hand with his strength around your neck, but so do you when you notice the flickering of his eyes.

“And how does my cock feel?” He tightens a little more around your throat, and you're affected further. Qimir's collectedness can only take much longer too.

“Feels good, feels so fucking good…” 

Intoxication rises from your abdomen and to all ends of your body. Your eyes begin to roll, and you're so close— 

And it's gone. The tightness on your throat stops, and so is your near-high.

You're about to complain, but Qimir quickly hauls you in close to his body. Face to face, forehead to forehead, your breaths fan one another.

“Before I let either of us finish, I want to hear you say my name as you come on my cock.”

That smirk will be the absolute death of you, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Can you do that for me?” 

You nod breathlessly.

Your master holds you by your waist and immediately thrusts over and over, deep and fast into you. Desperate to reach his climax, and to ensure you get to yours too.

“QimirQimirQimir–” 

And so you unravel, voice rising with every iteration. Saying his name like you’re praying for forgiveness from all ends of the universe. 

Qimir then brings his mouth to yours once more, swallowing all your pretty whimpers and allowing himself to chase his own release moments later. 

Laying on his bare chest, you glance up at him and wonder how the relationship between you will be from now on.

You couldn’t just go back to what you were before; you would now be a master and acolyte intertwined sexually at least, romantically at most. Would it not be complicated? 

But of course, Master Qimir can hear what’s going on in your mind, and he doesn’t even need the Force to do so. Being his enigmatic self, he merely answers your thoughts by speaking the Sith Code: 

“‘Peace is a lie. There is only passion…’” 

He meets your eyes, strokes your face with a small smile. Affection blooms in your chest.

“‘Through passion, I gain strength.’” 

Holds your hand against his beating chest. 

“‘Through strength, I gain power.’” 

His grip tightens. 

“‘Through power, I gain victory. And through victory, my chains are broken.’” 

Qimir leans in and kisses you deeply as the darkness of the night sky engulfs you, the sun saying its goodbye for the night.

And with that, you realize that no matter what will happen from here on out, he’ll always care for you. 

That despite all the blood, sweat, and tears shed through training, stealing, and all the killing, he’s just as loyal and devoted to you as you are to him.

[taegularities]

entertainer | jjk (m)

Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut!! ➳ warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not f– 🚨 he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, a shit ton of sexual tension, sexual fantasies, some jealousy from his side, he is very VERY attracted to her, mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, difficult past(s), (mention of) sexual harassment, mentioned past death of a side character, crying, fear, manipulation, confrontation and fighting, aggression, cursing, cocky and selfish kook, overthinking, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content: kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, dom jk, oc is odd, oral (f. receiving), spit stuff, handjob, manhandling, orgasm delay, lip ring…, light choking, bit of hair pulling, a spank or two, coming on oc, some cum tasting mmmh, ass stuff, protected sex, rough sex, various positions, masturbation; as always THE ENDING!! lmk if i forgot something!! ➳ wc: 32.4k ➳ a/n: MHMMM, it's finally time!! i experimented with the trope a little; def not a professional when it comes to this genre, but i tried my best. both oc and jk are odd in this one, and you might be on either's side and hate either of them, i can't say :'D very curious tho, so come and drop a message to lmk what you think. let it aaaall out :P <3

➳ listen to the Entertainer playlist! 🖤   

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs 

Jungkook has always wanted an audience to perceive him.

Not just to perceive him, in fact. To worship him.

Jungkook doesn’t consider himself a bad person. Spoiled, a little selfish, but not necessarily bad. He enjoys attention, no matter how temporary or who the giver of it. Feasts on it like an incubus.

What’s wrong with that? Nothing.

Or. 

Maybe there is. Maybe he’s coming on too strong.

Because you’re not part of his audience, sitting over there, middle row, middle spot, with your eyes lowered to the notebook. And when you do look up, there’s nothing but indifference in your eyes.

It irks him. Maybe he is a little narcissistic, and maybe he can’t quite deny it after all — but as part of his future team, you should at least fake a smile, right? Display a certain amount of enthusiasm, the joy of working with aspiring artists.

But no.

You’re occupied, scribbling into your notebook. Jungkook, cognisant of the fact that he hasn’t issued much of significance today, understands that you cannot be taking notes of his words. And he also understands that… if that is true…

You’re not granting him as much fascination as he’s used to.

General admiration thrown into the same bucket as his unwavering talent — that he’s well aware of — might just be the reason he climbed up so high in no time. Sometimes, gentle livestreams and vlogs do the trick — locals have found reasons to adore him already.

At times, a good song and strong vocals aren’t necessary to woo people.

Jungkook, however, is insatiable — that’s what keeps him pondering at times. That it’s just the locals, and on an international scale, there’s still much to achieve.

But he’s not a quitter, he’s a conqueror.

And he’ll reach that mind-boggling status of a well-known, global icon, name flowing as naturally through the seam of people’s lips as a still-lying, tranquil lake.

Jungkook knows it’s cocky of him to praise himself to the skies and to rely on his resolute hopes so much. He knows life backfires sometimes, and that endeavours don’t always pay off. He only started as an insignificant city boy, too.

Survived the cruelty of elementary and middle school; shared a room with his brother, relying on him until he grew and learned to finally rule over high school; every single soul at his beck and call. Then, trudged through college before any of where he’s standing even existed.

But he’s here now. And people acknowledge it.

Except you.

And it throws him off his balance. Which is probably why he shortens the end of his speech, close to slurring distracted syllables before he realises he’s forgotten a prepared sentence or two.

No matter; the relevant and main message should have been delivered by now.

So he leans back in a chair in the back, flashing a captivating smile and waits for the applause. Somewhat proud when the praise needs a moment to cease for his manager to reclaim the mic, freeing the metaphorical stage, much in the form of a simple pult, for the CEO of the company.

Taehyung is savvy of how to regain control over a stage; Jungkook doesn’t know whether he fucked up his final remarks, but Taehyung summarises his ideas well. But the clapping does say a lot.

And between those raising their hands to appreciate Jungkook’s speech, you were, too. He knows because he looked directly at you; still is. And when your eyes drift to his, the two of you hold each other’s gazes for at least a couple seconds longer than the others.

And your smile, while present, is somewhat tight-lipped, a bit awkward but confident, too. Odd, as well; hard to explain, but as though you know what you want. As though you have your priorities set straight and cannot be swayed by anything the world might throw at you.

He doesn’t have a word for it. Poised? Self-reliant? Fearless? Can a single look even say this much or is he being delusional?

But this can’t be true, honestly. Nobody is this unperturbed or passive. He’ll find out.

Your stare aligns with his a couple more times over the next minutes, staying there before continuing the journey over the crowd. Jungkook’s eyebrows twitch just a little whenever your eyes pierce into his, so tantalising and deep, big sweet ires, but so conniving at the same time.

He doesn’t know your name, but he’s sure that it defines intrigue. And maybe, just perhaps, it might serve as the synonym for drop fucking dead gorgeous, too.

When Taehyung leads you to Jungkook’s stuffy studio, the latter hears your voice through the open door several seconds before you come in. Or actually, it’s not quite his studio.

More like a collective office that a couple of the newcomers use. Jungkook has been part of this crew a little longer, but he needs the additional success, more prosperity; he’s been told to yield more results to earn his very own four walls. Carrying his signature flavour.

But it’s okay. For now, this suffices…

The stench of coffee and the sound of the AC. The pot and plants that always rest in some corner of the room, courtesy of Taehyung who insists on some colour in the grey-white, small room. Jungkook has gotten used to it all.

Which is why it’s strange, seeing your splendour enter the small space, delighted by whatever Taehyung might be explaining. Your grin is the widest Jungkook has seen since yesterday.

He didn’t get to meet you properly yet, so he can’t say where your humour lies. Nobody introduced you, despite your new position as his very own, personal work partner. A second manager, here to guide and aid him when Taehyung can’t; and apparently, you’ve found some charm in Taehyung that you didn’t see in Jungkook during the stupid meeting.

Not that Jungkook would ever dare to doubt his friend’s appeal, but you’ve stormed into his life like a present, and so silently, too; and he wanted to be the one to open it. To reveal it.

Not Taehyung. Even if it’s his job.

Okay. Calm down. Jungkook sighs. That again.

A motherly blanket of praises and fatherly pats of pride. That’s what’s gotten his head so riled up. He was coddled too much as a child. Made felt special. That’s over now, Jeon, you’re in an industry filled to the brim with competition.

Chill chill chill.

But now?

With that alluring smile staring up at Taehyung, only hints of it left when your eyes move to Jungkook. Fuck.

But Jungkook’s stance remains steadfast and self-assured when he greets, “Hi there. Welcome at last, huh?”

Jungkook notices when your mind snaps out of the conversation with Taehyung and into the one he started; a gentle hand frees your face off your hair to enable a proper view to it. The other is still dug deep in the pocket of your leather jacket, covering parts of the white top underneath.

Semi-long, silver earrings rest right below your ear, against your neck when you tilt your head a little; your expression so respectful and inviting when you smile. Jungkook inhales you in that one split moment, details stinging into the eye without much effort.

And perhaps he’d observe more, appreciate your stunning, obvious beauty and elegance further; but time passes as it does before you finally utter your very first sentence to him, “Hi. Didn’t think I’d ever be saying this, but… thank you for having me.”

That’s sweet.

Your words are reminiscent of the adoration his fans grant him, but your expression is as cool as a refreshing autumn wind. The perfect balance, possibly.

Jungkook gestures to a small couch in the back, right next to the door, but you raise a rejecting hand, claiming, “Been sitting all day observing Taehyung. Need to walk a bit.”

And you do. Deliver a last farewell nod to Taehyung who waves a little, gripping the handle and locking you in the room with the younger man nearly drooling over you.

The hand hidden in the jacket before has emerged, arms loosely folded as you take in the interior of the studio, allowing no more insight into your thoughts than, “Nice.”

Jungkook hums in distracted agreement, standing at the wall, watching you roam around the humble space in small steps. It’s odd, being in here with you; the atmosphere fizzles, a little less like electricity, just a bit more than carbonic acid.

But the moment was to arrive anyway; you’ll be a close link to Jungkook from now on. Of course you need to familiarise yourself with his space, too. So far, you seem to have an opinion on it already.

“Easy to trigger claustrophobia, but,” you walk through the open door to the darker recording room, tapping the mic for a moment, “cosy, too. Very cool equipment.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Pause, eyes dropping to your fingers grazing the stand of the mic. Then, “I would’ve come to you today… or yesterday for that matter, but things were so chaotic and—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assure, waving his concerns off, “I could see people rushing around and preparing the moment I got here. I’m probably not the main concern right now among everybody.”

“Nah, that’s not it. We have a great team here.” You step out again, hands folding behind your back until you’re leaning against the wall opposite of him, mirroring his stance. “I’m sorry you arrived at such a stressful time, though.”

“Not your fault. I decided so myself fully knowing you were in the middle of something.”

Ah. So you’ve seen his interviews, read the news. You came here with sufficient knowledge about him, alright.

“Really though,” you continue, blinking slowly, “I’m just glad to be here at all.”

Ah. Yes — about that.

“What brought you to our company anyway?” Jungkook asks, coating his voice in sugar to decrease the risk of unintentional and prying rudeness. “I mean — it’s been a while since somebody joined the main team, is all.”

“Oh. What brought me here…” You slide down the wall just a few inches, staring at your feet before you meet his eyes again. Something flashes in them for a miniscule second, albeit too brief to be caught and analysed. Then, you say, “Sentiments?”

Jungkook gathers words of confusion the moment you utter yours, a question already on his tongue. Has he been here long enough to evoke sentiments in his followers? Or do you veil a whole different connection to this company than he might understand?

Who knows. It doesn’t feel too deep, at least, when you speak again, elaborating when his eyes reveal his bedazzlement before he can, “I mean, I like your work.”

Okay. So much he interpreted; and he must admit — the feeling of pride is a thoroughly unique one.

“I think you’ve been deserving of your growth, and I just,” you speak, shrugging your shoulders, digging one heel into the solid ground, “I could never stop thinking of what I’d say or do if I was here or how I’d try to help, even though I’m not a true musical genius like you.”

This is so excitingly new.

How poised you remain as you talk about your fascination for him; how carefully you choose your words. He’s met fans before, but he doesn’t think any of them has ever practised such control over themselves.

And harbouring such emotions for a tiny little celebrity like him while simultaneously treating him like a human being is an art you’ve well mastered. Despite Jungkook’s urge to feel loved and worshipped to a dependent degree, you’re an incredibly attractive change in pace.

Ugh.

Dependent degree.

Although, he does wonder what you’d be like if you fawned over him.

Jungkook contains the fantasy; suppresses his sigh.

“So,” he starts, “you’re here because you’re a fan.”

“Mmmh. Kind of. My friends started it and then pulled me into this. Honestly, at first I couldn’t imagine ever getting into your stuff.”

Your gaze moved down to your trainers a mere moment ago; whether to hide your expression or give into a habit, Jungkook can’t say. But the honesty surprises him; even stings a little as he voices, “Oh?”

Your head shoots up, lips forming a circle before you imitate, “Oh. Wait. That was… pretty rude.” You seek confirmation or denial in Jungkook’s eyes, and when his slightly wrinkled forehead, tight-lipped smile reveals the answer, you immediately opt for an apology, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

“Just that.” You fiddle in your position, bringing your digits to waist level. Then, you laugh; a rhythmic sound. “Okay, don’t hate me, but. I was one to judge a book by its cover, and you had this young adult too-confident-too-sly something about you. But your music’s surprisingly sentimental.”

Jungkook halts for a moment, moving his head to side-eye you; producing a hoarse Uhhh before he admits, “I’m not sure whether you’re complimenting me or fully destroying me.”

Another lovely laugh. “I am complimenting you. To be fully transparent, I was probably, uh, biased? Because my friend. They have a knack for usually pulling very questionable men, so I probably just didn’t entirely trust their intuition.”

“Fair enough. I guess?” Jungkook matches the softness of your giggle, nodding towards you, “And now you do?”

“Mmmh, well, we’ll see.”

Jungkook must be stupid. Of course you won’t be able to deduce much from the first meeting yet; perhaps the flirting needs to slow down for just now. You seem the patient kind; much like now, letting the quick silence prevail without much struggle.

No sign of awkwardness surrounds your aura; only a hint of… suspicion? Flashing into your eyes when you let them move through the room again, freezing right next to Jungkook’s head. You’re not looking at him, but at something past him; but you don’t question nor voice anything.

Merely return to his stare with a smile, and he uses the moment to pour some courteous manners into the mix, asking, “Do you want something to drink? Coffee, water? A Red Bull?”

But you immediately raise a hand, shaking your head, “Oh, it’s okay. I’ve already got caffeine flowing there instead of blood,” you slide a finger along your arm, indicating a vein under your layers, “I just mainly came to say hi and to introduce myself. And to ask if I can help anyhow.”

“Ah… well, uh,” Jungkook halts mid-sentence, throwing a look around as though he’s searching for something to appear before he concludes, “don’t think so. I was in the middle of some production work, but don’t think I need much.”

“I see. Okay! Then I’ll leave yo—”

“But,” Jungkook intervenes immediately, adamant on keeping you around. Maybe he can wrap up work earlier today? Bring you home? Probably not — not on Taehyung’s watch. “Maybe you can tell me what you think once I’m done?

“Of course. It’d be my pleasure.”

“Would have an excuse for your company, too, then.”

The laugh that follows is so subtle that Jungkook barely hears it. It doesn’t leave your throat, stuck in there, just a tiny sound reminiscent of amused bafflement. 

Jungkook knows his way around words — understands what his utterances and implications usually apply. But somehow, not too many people have been the calmer ones in the room; aside from his superiors at work, not having the upper hand is new to him. 

So you set a fuse loose in him; destroy a nerve in his brain, changing up his communication habits. Because he certainly did not mean to say this out loud. And not in such a sense either.

He adds quickly, “I mean, it gets lonely here.”

“Right…” you concur, albeit weakly and with somewhat… entertained mystery in your eyes? He can’t say. It’s as though you’re wearing your face as a mask, undecipherable. “I get it. Even though your studio is cosy enough to enjoy your own company at times, right?”

“Not mine. But we’ll work on that.”

He cards his fingers through his hair, aware that he is probably more than an open book right now; his usual perfect poker face does not work with you.

Why? 

Weird.

“Got a couple things here that are mine, though. Yoongi and the others allowed me,” he adds.

“Ah… Like…”

Surprisingly enough, you take another look through the tiny room, possibly trying to detect something you didn’t see before. Regarding details. Then, you settle next to his head once again… and once Jungkook moves his eyes off you for the first time since you came in, he sees what you see.

Which is to say, nothing much out of the ordinary. In fact, the most trivial thing in the room.

“Like that?” you voice, pushing yourself off the wall to near his relaxed body. The scent of your perfume wafts through the room before you’re close enough; tenderly grazing his senses. “What’s that?”

Focus.

Your finger points to the object next to him, hanging at a nail at the wall; dark blue with white letters on it. Pretty mundane, pretty basic design.

“Just… a cap I bought back in college.”

You read out the name, pronouncing it perfectly, yet slowing down as if you’re learning a new foreign term. The sudden inquiry is strange, too: you don’t seem as truly curious about it as your question did; perhaps you’re playing for some time with him, too?

He wouldn’t hate it if you did.

“Do you know that one?” he questions.

You nod; a main hint as to why you wanted to know, yet indicating that the knowledge wasn’t of much significance. You say, “Isn’t it a popular one? I had a few friends who went there.”

“Hm… yeah, I mean. I guess it’s a known one. I got a degree there in broadcasting and entertainment like… four years ago.”

You exhale a barely audible puff of air before you whisper-murmur the most infinitesimal, petite, “Damn,” underscored with one indecipherable tilt of your head. He can’t see your eyes too well, so the reaction remains as transparent as you have been thus far.

Until he raises a thick eyebrow, confusion hidden in a somewhat relaxed yet awkward smile as he wonders, “What?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing, just. It’s impressive how much you’ve achieved in just four years, right?”

“…Well. If you say it like that, it does sound pretty neat.”

The bubble of pride expands alongside his ego; right beneath his chest. Somehow, the feeling changes his posture, makes him feel bigger. 

Perhaps you notice what your praise elicits; perhaps you’ve already fathomed his persona that he usually doesn’t dare to reveal this fast. But whatever he conceals with his fans, lies in front of you with an open access.

You make it easy to feel comfortable; he doesn’t need to know you too long to acknowledge this much.

“I graduated not too long ago, too. Three years?”

“Oh… then look at you,” Jungkook compliments, using the moment as an excuse to examine you further; head to toe and back. Your legs are crossed, upper body and face confident, but the position somehow delicate. Hm. “You’re quite awesome, too, don’t you think?”

“I mean— took a while to get here.”

“Right. So what have you been doing during this time since graduation?”

Whatever distraction you have found in the cap seems to break as you silently forage your brain for a response; possibly attempting not to divulge too much. And your answer is accordingly hesitant, though never dubious.

“Saving up? Preparing for life, I guess. And waiting for a good opportunity.”

For what? Do you usually keep your statements in fragments?

He prods, “To do what?”

“Well, to do,” you gesture to the wall in front of you, albeit clearly hinting to the situation, “this. Hoping to change everyone’s lives around here.”

You smile wide, the joke obvious as can be, but Jungkook can’t help but think that you might not be too far off. Unique minds alter brain chemistries; there’s something unforgettable and magnetising about them, and Jungkook steadfastly believes his intuition that you might just be one of them.

For the first time ever, he murmurs your name, delighted by how easily it melts on his tongue. It falls out breathier than he intended to, but when you tilt your head, the intrigue in your pupils inexplicably matches his tone.

He adds to your name, eyelids drooping just a bit, “So… you’ll turn out a long awaited surprise, huh?”

And you, against all expectations, lean in for just a minimal, not too inconsequential moment, hands back in your jacket. It’s a playful, harmless motion as you move back on your heels, then steady yourself again, bodies and faces still far away. You could’ve just as well given him a pat on his shoulder.

But there’s something in the way you look at him, tempted and ominous at the same time. He can’t say what you’re thinking because every feature in your face implies something different.

Even more so confusing what methods for success you came into this company with when you finally say, no pretext or further clarifications, “I really do hope so.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

Everywhere he goes, the lights are bright.

The white walls in the rooms of the company building reflect the sun in the summer and maintain a sense of optimism in the winter. They’re what Jungkook imagines waiting halls before Heaven to look like.

Then the fluorescent vibrancy in his apartment. And the sunlit sky, albeit cold in this winter, giving way to the planetary system’s star through the floating, parting clouds.

Even this modern art museum with its complex design, winding staircases, glass walls and high ceiling. It lets through an abundance of light, unaware of the balance Jungkook usually craves.

Dark and light — a healthy mix.

It’s why he cherishes the comfort of the recording studio so much. Its dim walls and the silence, so unlike the hallways outside of it. Or why he prefers his apartment unlit, often merely allowing the few lava lamps to illuminate his rooms.

But again… it’s only a balance he usually craves.

Today, he doesn’t mind the brilliance.

Because you’re part of it.

Clad in a beige long-sleeved cotton top, slight turtleneck included. It doesn’t fully cover your neck, still revealing a mole similar to his. It’s tucked into your light brown skirt; your legs are covered in sheer tights, crossed. A gentle hand holds the strap of your bag. Light academia at its finest; somewhat soothing, and somewhat radiant.

You look at him with an initially neutral expression, surprised that someone spoke to you, but more relaxed when you realise it’s him.

“Oh,” you voice; the faintest autumn-tinted smile tugs at your lips. “Hey! I, uh…” Your gaze flits to the painting in front of you, then back to him. “Not at all actually. Which… surprising.”

You gesture towards him before you grant him more of your silky voice, asking, “Do you? Come here much?”

Your eyes are indecipherable to him, cheeks dusted in natural make up. All the damn time, you sport this relaxed, unbreakable mask, and he can’t quite guess what you might be thinking about.

It’s so easy with anyone else. You’re like a scene from BBC’s Sherlock, embodying Irene Adler’s mystery.

But maybe your guard can be broken, too.

“Not really,” he admits, “only when pretty people are around.”

A weak attempt, but it makes your eyebrow cock in amusement. He knows you are, because the hint of mischief that scurries over your face resembles his own.

“Ah, and you happen to know when pretty people are around. Or did you follow me here?” you, however, ask.

It’s an obvious inquiry, but weirdly enough, he didn’t expect it. You exhibit the first sign of a proper, humane emotion. Delivering three quick blinks, voice quiet, suspicion swims in your eyes, slightly irritated.

Or even… scared?

You can’t truly be.

So he backtracks, slightly angling his head. He sighs — hiding how much his lungs crave a breath of air. He doesn’t want to scare you off just yet.

“No,” he defends, “of course not. I was just joking.”

“So… I’m not pretty?”

Oh. Oh?

Perhaps he misinterpreted your expression. Perhaps you’re merely a good actress; messing with him as he is with you. The smirk suggests this much, at least.

Perplexed, he holds his breath before letting out a choked laugh; the head tilt and click of his tongue carry a sliver of scolding before he admits, “That’s pretty frustrating, I won’t lie.”

“I’m just kidding, too. It’s a big exhibition. I expected a familiar face here.”

Why is there something so devilish about you?

He can’t say; maybe he doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s enough to join the game, to be just as cocky and see how you react. 

Perhaps he’s being selfish and too certain of himself, and in the worst case, he might just be imagining the tension buzzing between you like sparks off an electric fence. But does he have anything to lose, really?

Barely ever.

“Then,” he begins, “is it a good face?”

“All the art around us and you want me to admire you, huh?”

“…The art won’t be mad if you do.”

Jungkook is bold, he’ll admit. He hasn’t always been — he remembers a time spent in the back of classes, preferring to eat lunch alone. Did college tug him out of his shell? Was it senior year?

Then again — did that one kill the timidness in his heart or rather the last shred of humanity?

Maybe his cold matches yours, too. Is that why he feels so drawn to you?

Because you’re as bold as him; you don’t sugarcoat words and thoughts. And Jungkook appreciates the honesty, the ingredient to actual success — even if it’s achingly direct.

Like now.

You uncross your legs; your hips move in an elegant curve, and Jungkook attempts his best to keep his eyes off the arcs of your body. Focuses as you say, “You shouldn’t be flirting with a coworker, Mister Jeon.”

“Wait. I thought we were warming up to each other. Don’t demote me from Jungkook to Mister Jeon now.” You chuckle; that’s something, right? “Besides, I was just conversing. We need to spend all our time together now, so better get along, right?”

Right. Right; of course he’s right.

But… what is that?

It lingers for the faintest of moments, just a glimpse of an unspoken feeling, gone with the next blink. In this crowd of unsuspecting visitors you’re the closest to him physically, but your thoughts are miles and centuries away.

“Maybe you’re right,” you still say, as if whooshing away all unwelcome sentiments, “then I should not… dodge your conversation, right?”

“Sure.”

“Behave, though.”

He’s so confused — but not deep in this enough to question it. So he merely shrugs his shoulder before he responds, “I have been. I can converse, alright.”

“Right.”

“Like… first of all,” he steps closer, raising a hand, gesturing for you to walk on as new admirers of the modern piece approach, “tell me, have we met before? Feels like I’ve seen you somewhere.”

You halt in your steps, but immediately resume to the stroll when a stranger nearly bumps into you. “You’re doing it again.”

He’s honestly not. The aura surrounding you like an ominous fog is omnipresent and eerie, yet… you carry a sense of familiarity. But you’re a presence too distinct to ever forget.

Which doesn’t help his case.

“Yeah,” he still agrees before potentially embarrassing himself, kissing his teeth, “sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Why are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.”

“Fuckbo—”

“Nevermind.”

If he wasn’t well acquainted with this little game, he would’ve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But he’s done this a million times before — hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.

You’re enjoying this. So he should join… right?

Yet.

You’re not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.

Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices when the two of you halt in front of another piece. Distracted, he doesn’t bear the art any mind, instead asking, “You really think of me that way?”

You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he can’t help but feel drawn to you. “A little.”

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the art.”

“Sure.”

Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. It’s a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.

“Then,” he starts, nodding towards the painting, “what do you see in this?”

You hesitate. Or maybe it’s not hesitation — more like… a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.

But somehow, he only sees a calm ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is gentle, but wrapped in dark mystery. How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?

When you finally speak, you’re saying similarly strange things.

“I see… colours.” Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. “And am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesn’t it?”

“And it’s not, yeah?”

“We’re fast to think that. Most of the time, there must have been a trigger, or a thought about something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This is—” A soft hand gestures towards the painting. “Such a chaotic mind.”

Interesting…

“Is this what you usually think about all day?” Jungkook wonders.

You scoff. “I’m just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.”

“Ohhh. Like what?”

“Like… seeing all the green in this exhibit made me realise how this colour makes me cry.”

Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it — there’s no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking now. It’s as calm as you. No wonder you’d immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.

You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, “It’s soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who earn it.”

Earn it? How? 

Jungkook can’t see your thoughts as clearly as you’re apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?

And then…

If that’s what it is.

He wonders — do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how you think of him — doesn’t know anything about you at all. You’re a tough nut to crack. 

“Hmm… that’s a way to think about it,” he says.

“Only because it’s the same for people. And I’ve had this thought about humans a lot… I…” You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your stare. “I knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.”

Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.

He’s been seeing it in yours. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t.

Instead, he asks, “What else are you thinking about?”

“Uhmmm,” you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream — nightmare? “I’ve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.”

Every word you’ve uttered today was otherworldly. You didn’t talk like that when you were in his office, or at the meeting. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesn’t understand why.

And it’s a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.

But somehow… you’re too strong of a magnet.

One who shrugs all the mystery away — and he sighs in despair. Maybe it’s not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you — even though he’s dying to hear it.

He inquires, “Are you always this open?”

“No. Not at all.” Of course not. Rhetoric question — he knows this much. “But I like thinking out loud sometimes.”

“I’m glad to be a sounding board then.”

“Yeah. I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.” Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Out of the blue, too. Strokes his ego, though. And then, unexpectedly again, “You wanna go to the museum restaurant?”

Jungkook has barely seen half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldn’t care less.

Perhaps it’s enough for now, sitting in this overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. You’re not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd — entertained by the same media that he’s part of.

Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day — be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.

But you don’t seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you won’t disclose.

Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, “One cake with the coffee. As the lady suggested.”

“Oh,” you make, “don’t you want one?”

“I do.”

“So…” You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. “Are we sharing?”

Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, “Those chocolate cakes are sweet as heck. I’ve got a sweet tooth, but believe that it’ll be enough for the two of us.”

You laugh — a sweet, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, “Alright.”

Jungkook doesn’t know you well enough to feel any skip in his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. It’s always people like you who intrigue him the most — those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.

He sighs.

“That was fast,” you note, eyes at a point behind him.

And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, two perfectly prepared lattes and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge slice. You thank her with a gentle smile, tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing the dangling earring.

And he watches.

Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, “Start then.”

Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.

And then… God.

He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head, through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.

Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance at snail's pace… makes him sick.

When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sounds around him come alive again — as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.

You see him looking. And it makes you… smile? Shit.

But you don’t boast your effect; only digress as you say, “Well… tastes as fancy as it looks. Try it.”

You’re as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit that’s only reserved for him — then again, maybe he’s too zealous too fast. He hasn’t known you for long.

But making you smile must be an achievement. If only… you didn’t think of him like…

He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.

He wishes he could.

His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cake’s taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesn’t let him relax, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, “Do you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?”

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, “Jungkook… it’s bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?”

“Just. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.” You blink, but he doesn’t buy it. So he elaborates, “I’ve been trying to make clear that I find you lovely. And somewhat attractive.”

People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you don’t quite budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?

Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, “Somewhat, hm?”

He shakes his head, clicks his tongue. “You’re pretty and I think you know,” he blurts, “and I don’t want to screw up right away.”

Is it the habit of never failing? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until you’re bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?

You’re just a person.

Maybe it’s just the unsettling need to discover what you’re hiding — it won’t let him rest in peace. There’s something about you that screams to him to unravel. Makes him want you more.

He doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t know if you’re even from the same world as him — even though you seem to have crossed his realm before. No matter what it is; Jungkook merely understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.

Wants to be the colour green for you. 

“Ah—” you voice.

“In fact, I’m not supposed to hang out here with you.”

“…How come?”

“I should be with Tae,” he admits. Maybe he’s revealing more to you than he should — maybe he should adjust to your level of secrecy and wait. But this is frustrating him. “He dragged me here, so I could get inspiration from all sides.”

You listen; perhaps not quite loving the idea of seeing him in such a way?

Fuck. Maybe it really was a mistake. No turning back now, though.

“He said artists find motivation in art, too, and I do like to paint, so…” He looks at his cup, still left to be tried from, and then stares up from the cream leaf that the barista formed in his coffee. “I didn’t wanna come here, though. I already have an idea of what I want to do.”

“And…” you start, still not addressing the issue on hand; choosing to talk about something else for now, “he doesn’t like what you’ve come up with?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t know about it yet.”

You take a sip of your coffee, softly smacking your lips once to relish the taste. You’re living proof that subtle gestures can make a mind race. Then you say, “Maybe you should introduce it to him then.”

“I will. Just… mmh, need a better grasp on it.” He throws a nod towards you. “I can’t wait to show you either.”

Another sip of the seething liquid.

If the gentle hint of him being bent on your presence flatters you anyhow — stirs anything in you at all — you don’t let it show. Are you, by chance, used to being swarmed from all sides?

Are his advances kindergarten to you?

You don’t budge as he waits for you to respond, setting the cup back on your saucer before you inquire, “Where is Taehyung, anyway then?”

“Uh, I’m sure he’s going around admiring the art?” Jungkook guesses, head reflexively moving to the side, as if his friend and co-worker could materialise out of thin air. “He enjoys it even more than I do.”

“And you separated from him because…”

Because Jungkook ascended a spiral staircase. Because he turned right and halted in front of the second instead of the first room. Because he recognised the familiar curves and edges, as intriguing as ever, from this far distance.

And told Taehyung to continue without him; that Jungkook was going to explore a different corner of the museum.

He tilts his head; his left eyebrow raises just a twitch, fingertips tapping the hot surface of the coffee cup. And then, charisma gathered in the middle of his pupils, he tells you—

“Because I found you.”

There it is.

The slightest of reactions.

Your eyes widen barely an inch, but he sees it. How your lips part a bit, even though you should’ve expected his answer after the conversations hitherto shared. Hm…

“So you did follow me,” you say.

He can’t say if you’re joking or not. But all of a sudden, he wonders if he’s creeped you out. He opted for flirting so clearly, but… maybe you interpreted it vastly differently.

But he keeps himself relaxed; not faltering now when you aren’t either. Answers, “If you want to call it that. I call it finding you and then sticking with you. You’re interesting, Miss Manager.”

You smile.

Genuinely, thoroughly, wholeheartedly.

The beam reveals more than any word could’ve today — that humanity slumbers somewhere in the crevices of your heart. Your eyes suggest it as much as your stance on art did.

Whatever might have scarred you in life, behind all that ache, you hide a delicate soul.

Green, green, green.

And your cryptic worry, uttered a moment later, doesn’t bring him down from his sense of victory. No. Not now.

“Yeah?” You cross your legs, letting out a breathy sigh. “Then I sincerely hope that doesn’t change.”

[6:43PM] Jeon Jungkook: i’ve been thinking about something. and of you

For a bedroom as sparsely decorated and light-coloured as Jungkook’s, he should be surrounded by a brilliant glow. And usually, he is.

The windows occupy half of the wall, the bedsheets a perfect white; had he texted you a couple hours prior, he would’ve found himself in the gleam of a pale blue late winter sky. But if he’d tapped your name on his device earlier, he would’ve indulged in a whole different mood, too.

Wouldn’t have given into fatigued, delirious fantasies. Daydreaming about the curves of your lips and about the single strands of hair kissing your cheeks. Or the way you love exposing your neck, as if to taunt him.

It’s right there, but you can’t touch it, Jeon.

And…

And the mounds of your chest, slivers of it visible whenever you put on those heaven sent dresses. Their cuts are almost as deep as the ones damaging Jungkook’s brain. And not much for the sake of his sanity, the thirst isn’t quenched just yet.

Crossed legs badly hidden under your see-through tights. The movement of your hips when you walk into his studio, placing yet another gruesome schedule onto his desk. Your scent when you lean into him, pointing to another meeting he barely recalls.

You… you…

If Jungkook hadn’t already cleaned up the sloppy mess previously covering his knuckles, trickling down his thighs, he’d possibly give into the urge to sneak his fingers back to where he craves them to linger.

No, you made that mess.

Of his sheets, of him. And you never needed to be here in the first place.

Jungkook is no fool — unlike many of his friends, he doesn’t deny the way his body winds. He knows what he wants; and right now, he hungers for you. Wants you to eliminate the drought on his tongue; wants you to replace it with some taste instead.

“Fuuuuck.”

The word drags into the emptiness of the room, filling the silence that someone else should be lifting. But you’re not here, and you’re not answering. Not yet, at least. Has it been seconds or minutes?

Too long, is all he knows.

His digits are cleaned thoroughly, but he can’t shake the persisting feeling of sheer, dirty lust as they reach his phone again. Lighting up the screen, then curling inwards in frustration.

He repeats the desperate attempt of manifestation a couple times until he throws the device aside, nearly missing the mid-air vibrations, indicating the long-awaited message. Jungkook’s heart falls out of his ribcage and squeezes his guts; your name elicits far more than it should.

And he feels just a little guilty.

Because he doesn’t deny himself any pleasure — so he knows this isn’t love. This isn’t starving for emotionality. Not for sentiments. What you pull out might be his ugliest, beastliest side; his mind is filled with images of you that he shouldn’t be having.

You’re so respected. So tender and kind. Intriguing, a riddle, but inhabiting secrets probably far darker than his thoughts. So he feels odd about the wanton desire; feels guilty.

But just for a bit. Just a little.

The message you sent back is too humble, too innocent. Sometimes he reckons you’re aware of your power, and sometimes he assumes you think of yourself as… ordinary.

But you’re not. And he wants to show you.

Just one touch, please.

“Fuck, shut up, you creep,” Jungkook whispers to himself, scolding his treacherous mind before he reads again.

[6:52PM] You: Oh? Why would you be thinking about me? Of all people?

Should he wait? You did, too.

Or should he make as crystal clear as he can muster that he’s been waiting for you?

Screw it.

[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: what else should I be thinking of?

Your next response is immediate — you’re online. Waiting for him to answer.

Good.

[6:53PM] You: Your music?

[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: my music doesn’t talk to me as much as you do these days

He smirks. Keeps the beam plastered to his face until the waiting becomes a little too long. Message on read, you leave the chat room empty of you and full of a nervy Jungkook. He opts out of it the same second, keen on patience before it fades again, bit by bit.

Because then, the thoughts flood in.

Are you rolling your eyes? Throwing the phone into a corner of your couch? Has he fucked up before anything could start?

But it’s been going so well. You talk to him every single day. Ever since the museum, the two of you have been orbiting each other; partly due to work, partly because he’s caught you smiling, too.

Your words are too sickeningly often accompanied by a soft touch of yours against his shoulders; against his arms. Sometimes, you brush his back, his eyes wide awake, the smile timid yet crushingly losing against your confident gaze.

All this must mean something.

“Nah. Fuck it,” he mutters again, sighing over his own constant use of curses. “Come back.”

[6:55PM] Jeon Jungkook: actually… I did come up with one tune. It’s just a skeleton of a song tbh, but I need a sounding board.

It takes another one minute for you to come back, and Jungkook angles his legs, relying on the movements of his body to ease the impatience. But then—

[6:56PM] You: Oh, and? [6:56PM] You: Sorry, I had to step away for a sec

Sigh of relief. Even though embarrassment annoyingly adds itself to the mix, an uninvited guest.

[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: …do you wanna come to the studio?

[6:57PM] You: Right now? It’s like… [6:57PM] You: 7pm

Unconsciously, Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, unbothered to the bone, just craving, craving, craving…

[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: a true artist never rests. [6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: and I’d rather die than stop hustling for my passion

As the next message appears at the bottom of the screen, Jungkook can’t help but bite into his lower lip with a certain pride. He nods as if he caught his prey, trapping it between his fangs.

[6:58PM] You: 😂LOL. now that, I admire, mister Jeon :) [6:58PM] You: I’ll finish my wine and be on my way

Oh.

Are you tipsy? Maybe he’s reading too much into it, but the emoji seems so unlike you; yet, you somehow manage to capture the core of what and who you are in the rest of the message. Six coherent words. That’s all it takes.

Goddamn.

You’re so thoroughly you.

[6:59PM] Jeon Jungkook: wait. really?

And that’s it. You disappear.

Perhaps you’re joking; perhaps you’re messing with him. The sun has already set; and he doesn’t think he’s ever stayed with you much longer than dusk before.

If he met you in the evening, or on other nights, would you make more sense than you usually do? Are you the type to unravel when the world quiets down? Or the one to blend with the darkness more, drawing back further?

If there’s pure truth in what you just said, devoid of all mockery you could revert to… he might find out. And it seems you’re in the right mood today, earnest with your intentions when he feels his phone vibrate against his thick thigh again, making him flinch.

[7:11PM] You: Yes? I’m already dressed. Get your ass up

Oh shit.

Despite your order, his limbs still shut down. His muscles and bones melt into the bed, a fleeting image of your sly smirk crossing his mind and an assured voice surrounding his eardrums.

And if he didn’t overthink each of your movements; didn’t fantasise about the possible rise and fall of your voice, he would’ve discarded his phone and gotten dressed a lot earlier.

How embarrassing.

The fact that his mind doesn’t want to categorise this as a crush, no matter how much he asks. That his body responds to you like that, superficial and intrigued.

Embarrassing. He should focus on more important things.

Yet, he can’t be bothered with the intruding sentiment, shame shoved aside and trampled under his feet as his car turns into a parking lot, perfectly in front of the building’s entrance. Your form is crystal clear in the dark; not even the shadows and lack of light can hide your silhouette.

The radar sensor beeps when he creeps too close to the hood of the car behind him, and he mumbles a curse, averting his eyes from your unmoving self to focus on proper parking. Letting the roaring engine die.

Your shoulders are slightly raised when he approaches you at the door. One hand is stuffed in the pocket of your thin, baby pink coat, the other curled into a fist, possibly resisting the urge to enter the building and combat the cold.

You could’ve waited inside, too. Unless…

Maybe you’re excited to see him, too.

You smile, lips reaching far up; he tries his hardest to believe he’s right. Takes the gesture as a good omen, and the hair pulled up in a loose bun as a sign of hurry. You look domestic, comfortable in your skin, no matter who’s around.

But somewhere between the comfort and the softness, there’s that everlingering intrigue, too. And… some timidness. Showing in the crossed legs his eyes drift over, up to the short skirt barely visible underneath the coat.

And your face… so natural. More than usual. Mascara only? He doesn’t know.

All he knows is that he needs to say something.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you throw back, tilting your head in tease, “where were you? Took you long enough to get here.”

He steps closer; fiddling with his jacket’s pocket, fishing for the keys. And his proximity changes something about you so subtly, a miniscule movement. Hand digging deeper into your coat.

You’re on guard for some reason. And he can’t help but admit he’s on guard with you, too, albeit in a less physical and more mental way. The unfathomable, dichotomous sensation of wanting you near, wanting you far is killing him.

What are you hiding?

If he could, he’d speak it out loud.

“I had to freshen up,” he finally responds, “I honestly didn’t expect you to say yes.”

Your body might be in protection mode, but your voice is as composed, even somewhat amused, as always, “Well.” You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t see why. But I’m here now, and honestly… a little cold?” Nodding towards the door, “Should we go inside?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He sniffles, fishing for the chip to unlock the door. For an ephemeral second right before walking inside, your breath lingers incredibly close to his own, grazing his lip ring. “Don’t forget to dress warm this season.”

Near enough for his fingers to succumb to the impulse and sidle to you, skimming your thigh so featherlightly. He thinks he hears the sharp inhale you suck in. His skin tickles, the shiver icy on his body. He watches you smirk, lowering your head; his fingertips insist on the vicinity just for the tiniest seconds before he says,

“Okay. Let's go inside before you catch a cold, silly.”

But the bitter frost permeates the hallways of the company in the same ruthless manner. Perhaps somebody’s still lingering around in the daunting dark. Revising steps in the mirrored practice rooms or hovering above lyrics and tunes, neck bent and back tired.

But the building isn’t heated; and it shows in your rather quick steps, an arm wrapped around your chest to rub the layers above your arm. The guarded demeanour doesn’t match your usual confidence; aside from the hollow hallways, it seems that you’re scared of more than just the cold.

He doesn’t point it out. And he doesn’t stare for too long.

If he did, you might realise.

Instead, he saunters to the elevator with you in tow, delighted about the light that never changes in the small rectangular space. You let your hand drop to your purse, lazily toying with its zip, and turn your head to observe the closing doors.

And Jungkook observes you. 

The glow of your cheeks in the bright beam, half of your face devoid of the hair tucked behind your ear. As you breathe in, your lips split a fraction, and their gentle, soft curves mesmerise him for a moment too long.

It’s difficult and cruel, being around you. Haunting, agonising, aggravating.

And when your eyes align with his again, sparkling a little in line with your tender smile, Jungkook realises that he’s been holding his breath. Because it escapes between the seam of his mouth in a sudden push, his knees nearly buckling.

He resists the urge to bite into his fist, instead disguising his thoughts when he covers his mouth, teeth digging into his plump, lower lips.

“So,” he quickly adds, leaving no space for you to question his eccentricity, but you initiate another convo in the same tiny second, “It’s…”

You pause, withholding your statement in order to listen to his. But he shakes his head, lifting a hand to sign for you to continue. So you say, “It’s a little scary here at night.”

Okay. Not that tough of a topic.

“Right?” he confirms. “I always imagine getting here and hearing a hum that’s not really there.”

“Uh…” You blink in disbelief, lifting your eyebrows, but when he shrugs your confusion away, your hesitation marker turns into a chuckle. “Why the hell would you say that?”

“It’s just something I imagine. It’s terrifying, but my mind goes places, and I never ask it to.”

“Well, it’s a mean thing of your mind to do.” The ding of the elevator distracts you, and when you step out, your thoughts remain at an afar spot. Kept inside your pretty little head until you whisper, “And? Have you ever heard it, then?”

“Hm? The hum?” You nod, and he suppresses the snicker your curious, cocked eyebrow nearly elicits. “No. Only myself. Humming helps me control my breathing, so I do it to practise.”

“Weird. It’s so different from how I’d imagine you.”

Huh. Seems he’s not the only one sketching your entire being to keep himself awake at night.

“How would you?” he asks.

“As a rockstar?”

“Oh?” That’s new. “As a future RnB slash pop sensation I find this officially peculiar. Why a rockstar?”

You cock an eyebrow; either digesting the confident prophecy or pondering his question. The crooked smile matches his own signature smirk a little, and you puff out a breath before your sombre yet sparkling eyes wander an inch further down, right to his mouth.

Your eyelashes are endless, on their way to brush those delicate apples of your cheeks — in reality, it’s an impossible fantasy written in novels and poems, but it’s exactly how it looks. Exactly how much your curious gaze drops.

Only, the tingling sensation in his chest soon subsides, freeing a path to the realisation that he’s yet again misunderstanding. Because you’re not drawn by his lips, but rather considering a response.

He sighs in subtle disappointment when you point to the shiny metal encircling his lower lip, telling him, “Gotta be the piercing.”

“Ah. Ahhh. Well. First off, this is a very stereotypical assumption.” You shrug your shoulders in amusement, watching him cram for his chip until he halts in front of his studio, keeping you in his vision. “And secondly.”

The lock of the door clicks as he swipes the chip across the reader, defined knuckles paling a bit when he pushes the handle down. He raises his chin by a fraction, pulling out the most-assured smile, and asks, “Do you like it?”

And you, composed as ever, respond, “It suits you. I always wonder how comfortable these are, though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, like. Do they have a metal taste? Do you ever get hyper aware of them and then get annoyed and want them off? Are they… cold?”

He laughs. There’s something endearing about how your voice quietens further the more your curiosity grows. You’re not quite looking at him, pupils focused on a random spot, hands expressive as you vocalise your thoughts.

“Let’s see,” he mutters, jacket thrown over a chair, “sometimes and, again, sometimes. It feels a bit cold right now because it’s cold outside. I mean…”

He rubs the chill off his tattooed arm, fingers diving under the short sleeves of his white, oversized t-shirt. Attempts never faltering, he leans into you in intrigue, parting his lips before running his tongue over the jewellery.

“Do you just. Wanna touch it and find out for yourself?”

You blink, frozen in place.

The room isn’t too spacious; Jungkook will get his very own studio, name tag and all once he reaches a clear peak. For once, he’s glad about the crowded room, girded by a guitar on the wall, chairs standing side by side, a little couch leaning against the back of the wall.

As ever, he can’t decipher your mood; as ever, you’re still quick to answer, “I… no. It’s okay.”

Why don’t you want him?

Goddamn it.

“Okay,” he simply utters, shrugging his vexation away. “Let’s get started then.”

The excitement in his tone dips, seemingly aloof, but as he walks into the dark square of silence, reaching for the headphones he placed right here mere hours ago, wordless curses dangle off the tip of his tongue.

He makes sure you don’t see the clench of his jaw or the fast and steady fall of his ego, but you’re shoving back the chair and adjusting anyway. Crossing tight-clad legs as you place your coat on your lap, throwing your mane to one side to free that damned neck.

It must be on purpose.

He waits for you to settle, the headphones on the table in front of you enveloping your head. They look way too big on you, and Jungkook can’t decide whether to tut at his anguish or swoon at your stellar being.

Jungkook uses his headphones to communicate through the glass, raising a thumb to ask, “Ready?” You nod, matching his gestures with your own. “Be honest, how professional do I look?”

Carding the fine hair back, he pushes a hand into the pocket of his pants, taking a stand in front of the boom microphone. He mimes a typical grimace of an immersed artist, letting out an immediate, sweet chuckle that you chime in joyfully.

You lean in, long earrings brushing your jaw, pressing down the button for the talkback mic to assure through the intercom, “You look like a born star.”

He rolls his eyes, playfully clicking his tongue, “Ahhh, that’s a nice yet basic thing to say, but. I’ll take it.”

“Why did you go in there anyway? Weren’t you just going to show me a song?”

“Adlibs, baby. I’m still missing those.” He adjusts the headphones again, clearing his throat, almost in position. “But I didn’t warm up my voice, so I’ll need to re-record them anyway.”

“And still you’re straining your voice because…?”

“We’re here to impress you, so let me.”

Your finger lifts off the button, but the movement of your lips suggests to him undoubtedly what your teasing self might be mumbling.

Oh damn. Sorry then, boss.

You raise your hands in defeat until you detect his beguiled smile, raising your eyebrows in a clear question that he answers with two words; a simple title of a song, not as glorious as the tune itself but hopefully as memorable.

Eyes scurrying across the now opened laptop screen, you search for the instrumental until you stumble upon it. 3:54 minutes of what Jungkook prays to be blasted everywhere in a couple week’s time before the big concert, chiming in his ears.

The initial guitar riff drowns the room in a mixture of intriguing anticipation and uncurbed sentiments immediately. Jungkook’s eyes dart to your face, attempting to decode a reaction. And when you notice, hands on the headphones, you nod approvingly.

Most of his vocals are already recorded to perfection; a silky voice laments about a lost time with purity. Jungkook largely listens in, searching for wonky bits or moments to be re-tackled. Of course, he will need to discuss the details with Taehyung tomorrow, but whenever the passion burns the hottest, he can’t help but add an adlib here and there.

As he sings, his eyes reflexively close, and for a couple dozen seconds, the melodic current pulls him towards a bigger ocean; the sense of freedom and possibility is astonishing. There’s a certain ardour he feels towards music that nothing will ever be able to elicit.

Do you feel the same?

As somebody spending day in, day out surrounded by musicians, does that phenomenon make your heart surge, too?

Maybe.

When he looks at you again, it’s at least something fervent he detects in your gaze. A bit like the longing he feels. Intense fondness, or perhaps, even zoning out — until you’re barely blinking anymore.

Your features relax a little more as the song proceeds, bit by bit, the calmest when the ending notes arrive. Jungkook observes you; freezes at his spot. The change from the built-up chorus to the suddenly calm ending, instruments dying, are as forgotten as the last touches… because you, behind the glass, are much more interesting.

Just staring. Looking at the screen, its brightness reflecting in your pupils. When you blink again, most of the preceding smile is gone, something indecipherable in your eyes.

He doesn’t know whether you actually enjoyed the entire thing or became consumed by memories he doesn’t know of. Some the song might have drawn out but shouldn’t have. There’s… a past in your stare.

He knows because much like the vast existing humanity, he’s been tending to faraway memories for years, too.

And he wants to know about yours.

Gently, Jungkook grasps the headphones covering his ears, the mane victim to the impact before his fingers fix it again. He frees his eyes off his strands, never directing them away from you, and when he opens the door to the small room you drifted off in, you look up.

Your emerging smile is unsuspecting and polite as always, and you deliver a tilt of your head. Jungkook could sign the previous oddness off as just this, or a sinking into arts just as he does sometimes.

But what’s enough is enough; brushing questions off his mind has become tedious.

So he rolls back the second chair next to you to take a seat, placing his arm on the one of the furniture before folding his fingers; leaning in, asking, “You okay?”

You react with a soft nod, a tender hum, “Yeah! I was listening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“You zoned out.”

“Which is a good thing, I promise.”

Jungkook looks for a moment. Waits for you to break or admit that the truth you display might not be as pure as you think; waits for his instinct to wind up correct.

But when you do nothing of that sort, eyes a resolute and solid statement, he sighs. Tongues at the lip ring for a moment before he clears his throat and questions, “Good thing, yeah? What else do you think?”

“It… goes deep,” you confess, an impressed declaration in your expressions, “what are you talking about in that one? I mean, I know, but… it sounds so personal.”

“More or less? I’ve spent most of the last few years dedicating myself to this job. The training, the late night sessions, the failure and lost time. I wanted to depict those hardships.” He nods, emphasising his points. “I want this song to help me look back one day…”

He shrugs his shoulders, thumbs slowly circling around each other, “And comfort my older self that despite the hectic life, things are okay.”

“I see.”

Your tone is neutral, but your chest rises and falls a little too slowly. Your sorrow is quiet. He closes the distance further, nudging your arm, “Hey. Did you not like it?”

“I did,” you defend, honesty and reassurance in your voice, “I do. You have an amazing voice, come on, what’s not to like. And the sound is incredible. Should you manage to release it, it will be celebrated a lot.”

“I will manage to release it,” he says with furrowed eyebrows, resisting the urge to touch your elbow again, but settling on simply calling your name instead, “you’re part of my team. Let’s be optimistic.”

“I am. Teamwork makes the dream work. Etcetera.”

“Right,” Jungkook breathes, word close to a yawn. He throws his body back in the cushioned chair, manspreading as much as the space allows; stretches his arms until his muscles crack. “Ahhh… I really want this to be good.”

His gaze falls to the darkening laptop, soon giving way to pitch darkness, potentially to some screensaver. The title of the song remains still in the opened audio file, and he smacks his lips, blinking only when you voice an approving, “Mhmmm.”

His head darts to you the moment you deliver a subtle nod towards the computer, deducting, “You really strive to be big.”

Well, yeah. That’s been the plan. Always, always.

“Shouldn’t I?” he argues. “It’s a dream.”

“It’s good to have dreams.”

“That’s right. Mine is to… Stand on a bigger stage. I think I’ve reached a solid group, but I think if I keep working hard and with the right team, I can make it?”

“This determined, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he responds with a hint of obvious self-evidence, slight confusion shadowing his mind — have you never wanted something so badly? “The audience’s eyes glued to me. Don’t you have a dream?”

Another deep inhale of air, chest working hard, as if you’re breathing out fatigue. He prepares for another vague answer that might leave him guessing; and albeit clearly seeing the usual curtain veiling your true thoughts, what you say next makes his ears perk up.

“Honestly. I’ll allow dreams again once I’ve moved on. That’s all I want.”

What?

Did you actually want to say that? Was it on purpose? A slip of the tongue?

Because it seems so unlike you. Reveals too much. He doesn’t think you’ve exposed your innermost thoughts like this before, even if still not quite transparent.

“…From what?” The previously relinquished distance dies when he inches closer again, digits sneaking close to your knee. A fingertip floats over your tights. “Hey. Is something bothering you?”

“Ugh,” you say; the sliver of sadness seamlessly transitions into an expression of nonchalance when you wave your concerns off so quickly. “Young adult stuff.”

Nevertheless, you speak on. The biggest development in this friendship between the two of you yet. “I once had a friend that moved away. We were pretty close, and now she’s far away. Which sucks.”

“I’m sorry.”

That’s it.

Jungkook offers to listen, but he doesn’t necessarily deem himself the most expressive guy when it comes to emotions like these; even if he so deeply wishes to read your thoughts. Music is different; speaking to an audience is, too. Articulating gratitude isn’t as difficult as extinguishing someone else’s grief.

And while not quite confronted with anguish, he houses demons that still haunt his nights; he can barely obliterate them.

Maybe he doesn’t need to.

Maybe he can comfort you in the only way he’s ever known. The stupid, selfish way; offering relief and distraction in the most sinful manner.

“Listen…” Jungkook starts, but in all honesty — there isn’t much to say.

Only to crave. To look.

At the curve of your lips. The distance between them. The bare wrist needing to be held, tired eyes wanting to replace the sorrow with something else.

Is he an asshole for wanting to annihilate your heavy breaths of dejection and replace them with sighs of his name instead?

He doesn’t know. He barely hears his thoughts. Only the blood rushing to his ears, and then away from his head, down his body.

Fuck.

The levitating finger drops an inch; you gasp almost inaudibly when the tip touches your knee, skin separated by the tights only. Jungkook loves fashion choices like these, but hates the hurdle right now.

His warm palm opens, placing right above your knee, approaching the meat of your thigh. He knows you’re not breathing because he can’t hear the exhales; and when his eyes, hooded and possibly insane, flit up to you, he recognises the change in your pupils.

You gulp; and then finally push out some air again. Your hand moves to his inked wrist, touching lightly, unsure what to do. But when you don’t resist, his other arm lifts, touch moving to your face, holding it.

The world spins, moving like an earthquake as his mouth draws nearer. You let out a miniscule sound that punches him in the guts; sweet and pure.

He wants to shatter and wreck you so bad; wants you to feel the same poison you’ve fed him. Irresistible, deadly.

But just as the metal of his jewellery grazes your lips, the softness and warmth radiating towards him, your breath shakes. Your face budges enough for his upper lip to feel a brush against yours, but that’s all he gets.

Because you retreat without giving in. And he doesn’t know why.

He clenches his jaw. God fucking hell. What’s your problem?

The sense of failure overwhelms him. Failure. Failure.

That’s not the term his mind should conjure. He knows the moral compass hides somewhere in his dark heart; he knows. Yet, he can never give into it. Is he a bad person? He doesn’t know.

Control was never his domain, after all.

But he keeps those intrusive thoughts inside, intending to not scare you off more than he already might have. So he accepts the dodging of the kiss, moving back, immediately leaving you safe from his touch.

And then, he says, “Uhm— I’m sorry.”

You don’t answer, still catching your breath, back to the heavy sighs that he was going to help shove back. Once again, he tries, “Honestly, I apologise, I just…”

“No, no. Please, don’t be sorry,” you reassure, slightly touching his shoulder. A wave of relief washes over him. “I’m just. Not in the right mindset for it yet. But I’m flattered, really.”

“Okay.” He nods. His eyes drop to his fingers; he still feels your heat on his skin, basks in it for a moment. But when the awkward silence lingers, he suggests, “Then. Let’s call it a night and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. I’m definitely getting tired.”

“Me too.”

Jungkook rises from his seat, still unable to wrap his head around what happens — or almost happened. Maybe another time. Grabbing your coat from behind you, he helps you into it, avoiding your eyes, trying not to showcase his frustration.

Uncertain what to say, he reverts back to small talk, stating, “Thanks for still coming so late. You really do like the song, yeah?”

“Jungkook… it’s honestly very good.”

You smile; there’s something about your honesty. About the way you say his name. And how hopeful you truly seem for him. How much you seem to mean it when you say—

“If there’s anyone who can manage to wrap the world around their finger, it’ll be you, Jungkook.”

“Alright. I think I have an answer to your question now.”

You down the sip of red wine with a delicate smack of your lips, blinking at the change in topic. The evening has followed a pleasant pace so far, conversations well balanced; even though you still carry a sense of caution that Jungkook sees no reason behind.

Perhaps it’s the fact that after weeks of subtle, flirty undertones and advancing attempts you’ve taken the seat on his couch as he’s imagined for so long now. Maybe he still exudes something that screams for caution; maybe that’s just who you are.

Jungkook, for one, is just glad to receive any kind of recognition from you. But he’d be a fool to not insert all his effort into tonight, from the food to the type of drinks and conversations. He knows where he needs to be and he wants you to want it, too.

“What question?” you ask.

It’s just.

Despite the lightness with which you carry your talks, some of your movements feel off, detached from your body. Not quite matching the grace your face portrays; just that one hint. The one hiding in your fingers, tapping the dark screen of the phone resting on your thigh.

As if you’re waiting for a call or something to happen that Jungkook isn’t aware of. Who knows. Nothing has happened in the last hour, so this might be an unconscious gesture reasoned in nothing but an absent or distracted mind.

Yeah.

You’re probably not even aware of it and he’s just overthinking it.

He takes a breath, inhaling the aroma of the almost finished wine, “What I’d do if I could spend a day in a virtual reality.”

“Wait, does the Wembley Stadium doesn’t count anymore?”

Jungkook smirks, dismissing his own prior answer with a click of his tongue. “C’mon. Does it really? You can ask literally any artist ever and that’s what they’ll say.”

You ponder his response, pursing your lips in thought, and then shrug one shoulder. Nodding along, you acknowledge, “Right. So what is it then?”

“I’d just.” He sucks air through his teeth sharply, leaning back with a signature smack of his lips. “Get into a reality in which this damn song is already finished and mixed and ready to be released.”

This song referring to the concoction of sounds he showed you earlier, yet to be concretised and burnished to what he truly envisions. It’s the only song left that shackles him to the studio; at the upcoming concert, he’ll just sing the demo version as a sneak peak if needed. What a source of stress.

But you don’t see it as much of a struggle; you’ve told him a dozen times that hard work justifies a slip-up. That the progress on his album balances out the artist’s block.

Possibly why you laugh his worry off without mocking it, merely throwing back, “I’m disappointed.”

Oh?

“Why?”

“Just because — the Wembley answer was better.”

Unexpected and sudden — much like the snicker you elicit, throwing his head back just a little. Concurring, he sighs, “Okay, okay. What about you then?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me what you’d do.”

“You didn’t ask,” you remind him, already slurring your speech a bit, though still remaining a stable and solid stance, “dunno. You want the sappy or the basic answer?”

“Is the sappy one a tear-jerker? Sounds like it.”

“For sure.”

“Then the basic one. Don’t dig being sad.”

“Thought so,” you answer, and Jungkook holds back from prodding again this time, despite wondering what image he gets across, “alright. I’d do things I’m unsure of in real life. Like bungee jumping.”

“Oh? Kinda did not expect this.”

“No?”

“Just having a hard time imagining somebody as calm as you jumping off a building. Or yelling.”

You roll your eyes. “Anyway. I’d love to go, but I’m too scared of the risks. Like, rope stuff. Don’t want to be jumping for the last time.”

“Okay, yeah, but,” Jungkook starts, hesitating, “I mean, you could say that about anything. You leave your apartment and get hit by a car and then you’d be going out for the last time.”

You begin shaking your head mid-sentence, already drawing a breath, ready to disagree. Then, “That’s a bad comparison. These things are a once in a lifetime experience.”

“I’m just saying! Why hold back from things that excite you.”

“…Maybe you’re right.”

Jungkook’s proud nod and hum are reciprocated with a soft smile, fleeting when you roll your eyes back to your phone briefly. Absent-mindedly, you drag a fingertip across the device’s side as Jungkook follows your movements.

Yet, unsure what you might be harbouring in this pretty head of yours, he doesn’t ponder but asks, “What was the sappy thing?”

It’s as if you live multiple lives, hiding them in your innermost parts; because once he finishes his question, your sparkle returns, and you smirk a little, suddenly leaning forward.

Wordlessly, you fish a tissue out of the square, wooden box, puzzling him for a second until he understands right before you clarify, “For the upcoming tears.”

His titter is immediate, a reflex. You might be relaxed as a calm river, but your humour does shine through among your other million traits. He shakes his head in rejection, smile still plastered to his lips, and watches you lean back again, clearing your throat.

“Mhh, I’d say,” you muse, “I’d try to get into a simulation of Heaven. Try to meet those I miss.”

“Oh… damn.”

“Yeah.”

“…I don’t know what to say.”

But despite the dumbstruck silence, his mind does conjure prompt associations. Like when the two of you sat in his studio just two weeks ago, you engrossed in his music yet somehow dissociated from reality.

You spoke about lost and faraway people back then, too. And he didn’t ask then, either.

In the depths of his mind, he wants to believe that you’re trying to lead him somewhere, fishing for his hand but never quite reaching it. Drawing back right before pleading for help; or perhaps wanting to make him understand a thought he can’t fathom in the way you form it.

The pattern is repetitive, loud — but he knows you’ll retract the moment he does lean into you, offering his ear to your worries and thoughts.

He can’t win.

“That’s okay,” you say, making up for his lack of proper empathy, and that’s where you leave it. Not hesitating, not indicating another hint to lead to your mind.

Yet, he clears his throat quietly, licking drying lips, and asks in attempt to grip the truth, your whatever-truth, “And, who’d be there? Do you want to talk about that?”

“Mmmmh,” you hum, pondering, before you treat him with the same disappointment he’s suffered throughout the last weeks, “no. I think I’m good.”

Unbelievable, and truthfully, frustrating.

Are you playing this side of yours? Is it an act? Are two sides of you fighting within you?

“Okay,” he simply responds, clearly agitated but unsure whether you notice. You’re looking at your phone again. He sighs. “And… Do you believe in that stuff? Heaven, Hell, stuff like that.”

You shrug a bare shoulder. “Dunno. I like to think there’s something, but then again I don’t.”

“How so?”

“The way I see it, it’s kinda simple,” you explain matter-of-factly, “some people are good enough to deserve a place in Heaven once they’re gone. And some people are terrible enough to burn for eternity.”

Coming from your sweet mouth, uttered in an equally soft tone, the sentence feels jarring. Jungkook has had these thoughts before; he’d be a hypocrite to judge you for yours, recalling moments when he wondered where he’s destined to land once he’s left this realm.

And somehow, it was never the prettier option.

Still, he utters, disguising his own past pondering, “Wow. That’s dark.”

“It’s true. There’s some serious crime in the world.”

Agreed. Perhaps, compared to the extreme sins, he can be forgiven. Right? Maybe…

“Yeah,” Jungkook accords, “then, why did you say that sometimes you don’t like believing in it?”

“I mean, if there’s actually something like Hell, and I happen to fuck up throughout life… I don’t wanna end up there.”

It’s like you’re mirroring his thoughts.

Even if he never quite thought about it to such an extent. Even though his idea of the afterlife built on what he’s already done, and not what he’s still going to do.

But your words give a subtle hope that redemption is possible. Who knows. Who really knows.

Perhaps it’s easiest to stray away from these thoughts and focus on you at this very moment. Even if it’s you triggering innermost fears; he doesn’t quite have a clue how you do it.

No matter. He’ll focus on you. Altruism might be the first step to vindication. Karma points. Karma points.

“Valid,” he says kindly, “can’t imagine you fucking up, though.”

“How would you know?”

“The company grapevine whispered a lil something about you.”

“Ahhh—”

“Good things! Other than that, I just think. Don’t know.” A small gap, well-hidden so far, grows in the back of his mind, tiptoeing to the very front of his mind. Before he’s thought it through, he blurts, “I’ll be honest with you.”

Your ears perk up, eyes suddenly wide.

What was that?

Okay. Whatever. Can’t stop his speech now, “Uhm, I’ll be honest and say that I’m not the best person I know. Like, I’m aware of that. It’s why sometimes, I don’t really understand how people can be as genuine as you.”

…Has he said too much? Or not enough? Because he could swear your face deflates, expression dimming, as if you expected something else.

And all you say is, “I understand.”

A flicker of slight panic creeps into his overthinking head, not usually a trademark of his personality. But you look dispirited, even if just for a second. He tries further.

“And from what I’ve seen, you go through life gently. The way you do anything is how you do everything, right?”

“Hmmm,” you voice again, pupils hidden until you look up. And when you do, he breathes a sigh of relief; deep and obvious, and he doesn’t care if you notice. Smiling sweetly, you tell him, “You said that really well.”

The way you say it is riddled with woe, but within a second, your eyebrows relax, mouth forming an authentic grin. Displaying real emotions suits you better than the mask of the frigid ice queen you keep plastered to your face; you look different right now.

Vulnerable.

And it makes him want you more.

Does it have something to do with the warm light he chose for this room? No. It doesn’t shine brightly enough to really illuminate your face that much. With the intensity lowered beforehand, some of your features hide in the dark when you lower your head a little.

And it’s not the decent amount of alcohol the two of you slurped.

It’s the usual, mysterious shimmer in your eyes, begging to take off more of your mental layers. The fragility behind the pretence of invincible strength. No doubt, you’re still a textbook definition of a femme fatale.

Still, there’s some sweet urge to surrender, visible in your stance. A fragrance luring him in. Warm skin close to his; calling for his fingers.

And he’s at your beck and call, ready and motivated; giving into your wanting eyes — or is that his own desire he’s confusing? — and leaning in. A little more with each tiny moment, advancing until the tips of your noses meet.

Your warmth consumes him; your breathing quickens, resulting in fitful exhales that he takes in with vigour, much drowning in his own head until you gasp and he realises—

“Sorry,” he mumbles, not yet retracting. His hand touches your knee, carefully but with intention. Waiting, he asks, “Is that okay for you?”

“…I’m not sure.”

Your answer takes a seat on his ego and weighs it down. Harsh, sudden, perhaps not unexpected but definitely breaking a string of patience within him. But consent is consent; he understands. He’s grown now.

Yet…

“Fuck,” he whispers under a faint sigh, dejected and confused.

And you hear it. Bambi-eyed, you ask, “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He’d lie if he suppressed the disappointment. Working towards you for weeks was supposed to end in realising his fantasies into a palpable, actual feeling, with a side achievement of a deeper connection.

You don’t seem to want to provide it; he understands, but the agitation courses through him like a fire burning up a forest. The trees are his nerves; alight with different emotions. You’re fumbling with the soft cotton of your winter dress, and he averts his eyes.

Shutting them for a moment, he ponders his options; does he continue the awkward conversation? Or perhaps, ask you for your opinion straightforwardly? Maybe, after all this while, it wouldn’t be so stupid to swap a penny for your thoughts.

And his mouth opens, but it seems you’re faster. Crushing his questions and uncertainties when he hears you gulp, witness to another change of mind as your knee shifts forward. His eyes open rapidly, and when he looks at you again, you’ve moved closer.

Your leg touches his thigh; your eyelids half fallen, lips an inch apart and fingers hesitating, yet advancing towards him. Hope sparks and sparkles in him anew, and he suppresses the cheeky, triumphant smile.

He feels like an asshole. Oh, he feels so selfish — but he can’t be the only one. He cannot possibly be the first or last to give into deepest desires out of self-interest.

Carefully, he matches your pace, moving into your direction much like you are drawing into his. His hand lifts to your arm, and you suck in a breath as he touches your skin, your chest rising and falling deeply.

And his eyes observe. The motion drives him crazy. He wants to pilot his touch to this spot, wrap his palm around your mounds, desperate to feel your nipples perk up under his skin, your mouth fall wider.

Should he? Maybe, maybe—

Not yet.

Instead, he draws an invisible line with his fingertips, up your arm and to your shoulders until he reaches your neck. The sound you let out is so tiny he barely hears it, and you tilt your head to the other side, giving him free reign over your skin.

A spark lights up under his finger, as if he’s touched a defective bulb. He wonders if you feel the same flame when he charges for your jawline, tracing it for a moment before he moves to your seething hot cheek.

You’re burning up.

So he asks in a quiet, gravelly voice, somehow much lower than usual, “Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows are furrowed, and he starts to worry again; but maybe that’s just the same tension unleashing that he’s felt, too. The temptation runs deep; he could scream it out of his lungs and it wouldn’t be enough.

Relieved as you nod, he mimics the movement, whispering an, “Okay,” before he then dips forward, exhaling close to your neck hotly and… leaves a small kiss right there. He doesn’t know about you, but if you did that to him, he’d possibly faint.

One more kiss, and suddenly, your hand is on his knee. His head spins. Must be the alcohol. Must be you.

And you’re probably in no better state, judging the hot cheeks and the slight sway of your body. Must be the wine. Must be him.

And when his lips graze your jaw, your fingers curl in, clawing onto his knee, and his inner voice celebrates, “Jackpot.”

But not really. He’s going with the flow, exploring your preferences, but this needs to be the night of your life. His mind and ego want you to perceive it that way. So what should he do? What do you like?

Are you one to push him into the bed, holding his shoulders down? Straddling him keenly, pouncing on him, eyes rolled back?

Or do you give away all the power you usually emanate; hands bound with a tie, legs struggling between a rope, screams muffled under a gag? Do you wind and go crazy when somebody has their way with you, edging and then overstimulating, refusing a touch and then slapping your ass wound…

Should he let your siren eyes tempt him into submission or will you be the one drilled into his mattress with a hand around your neck and a trail of black mixed with tears under your eyes?

He doesn’t know. Because you’ve disguised all of you; hidden your mind behind a mask of absolute neutrality, hard to decipher. He can usually read women so easily. They lick their lower lips when they want him under them, and quiver when vice versa.

He’d oblige to either for you. So what does it matter in the end, anyway?

No, it doesn’t.

His tongue that lashes out, however, does matter. Tasting your skin as it drags over your chin and then to your mouth. Insane when he reaches your lower lip and you sigh, then back to your neck, blowing, teasing, still not kissing you… touching your thigh, moving inwards…

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

And this time, while still a little quiet, you finally say, “More. You can do more.”

“Yeah?”

You nod as if starved, relieved when his hands leave your leg and venture further in. It’s hidden under your dress, but somehow, not seeing your full glory just yet, but observing your reactions to his movements, stirs his thoughts. If any were left, that is.

The touch to your panties is light, tender as he reaches the hem, driving a finger underneath it in exploration. You don’t say much, but he sees the zeal in your eyes, murmuring a little, “Mhm…”

And when he finally presses against the fabric slowly dampening, lightly as he rolls his digits right where your skin so incredibly softens… you moan. You moan.

It doesn’t sound the way he imagined. But it kind of does. He doesn’t remember what he imagined — doesn’t know much at all. Just that he wanted this sound to echo within his walls. For him to be the one to drag it out. Not for anybody else, but him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Okay. What if he does… this…

Thought so.

Sometimes, human beings have a fantasy unmatched, don’t they? Able to form and reform expressions on people they know that they have never seen. For example, he can imagine what you look like when you cry. Or when you’re mad. Or…

He knew you’d press your lips together, along with your eyebrows, muffling your sound once he sought out your clit and pressed against it. And not because he’s seen other women contort their faces like this; no… it’s an entirely new sensation with you.

You don’t compare to anyone. Nobody compares to you. Nobody, ever.

Sick of watching the invisible movement under your dress, he lets his eyes wander to yours, and you notice, do as he does. Eyes hooded, staring at him as if drunk — possibly, probably drunk.

Just once, he gapes down again, trying to adjust without crushing your knees with his. Comes closer. Then looks back at you. Absolutely astonished by the coloured lips drying up. Seeing your tongue peak behind your upper teeth, pushing against them.

Then you’re blinking, several times, not rapidly, but enough to indicate that you’re losing yourself, too. And then there’s some melancholy behind your gaze; he can’t say where it derives from… you seem to be coming out of a room that you kept dark for long enough.

He can’t say whether he’s further dimming the light in that room or lightening it up — and as he advances, gauging your reactions, he inwardly hopes it’s the latter.

So inwardly. So desperately.

Patience only persists for a moment; Jungkook barely believes in it. People always break. And he does when you lean forward as he drags his finger between your pussy lips, still over the clothing. You balance your weight with your arms, holding yourself up.

And then…

You so tantalisingly, softly, quietly, whisper his name.

Okay.

The snap was expected. The sigh he lets out was expected. And the way his lips finally crash against yours, making you almost fall back onto the sofa was expected, too.

But your taste… Why did he know you’d be as sweet as a cliché, like a perfume made edible? Matches your mystery and your elegance.

And the mellow, yet wanting sounds fit every move he makes. Like the moan-sigh combination when his bold hand wraps around the bun you’ve arranged your hair into. How you breathe into the kiss when he tilts your head a little, and then proceeds to loosen up said bun.

Releases it. Lets your hair fall. Pulls you in, pausing the make-out in the process, and then diving back in with a greed he’s never been met with before.

And as he kisses you, his index finger still dips into the uncharted territory below, ruining your panties some more as he soaks them; fucking loving how you whimper as a result.

No… this is ruining him just as much.

So he draws back from your body, attempting and probably failing not to look at you like an animal glaring down at his prey, ready to devour. He’s never seen this expression himself, but one or two girls have uttered quiet, “Oh-oh,” in such moments before — do you see the danger, too?

Or is he being cocky? But it’s not his fault. You make him cocky because he can never fucking say what you think! Of course he’d need the mental praise to himself — your opinion on him is too difficult to decipher.

He’ll keep the energy up. Make you shrink in his hold.

Hands under your ass, he lifts your lower body a little, amused by your wide eyes and how you wonder, “What are you d—”

Silencing the moment he uses his palms’ position to grab the hem of your panties and pull them down your legs. Over them and then on the other side of the table. The two of you won’t need those tonight.

“What does it look like that I’m doing?” he teases, smirk effective and permanent.

He likes that about himself. Maybe you’ll do, too. If not, then you at least do like how his fingers, impatient, find their way back home again, not before lifting your dress to your hips until you’re bared to him the way he’s craved.

And he pauses.

Oh, this treasure…

“You…” he starts, moving two ring-clad fingers between your folds. Testing the waters. “I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight. You’re staying right here…” He leans forwards, body on body, whispering against your lips. “Trapped under me.”

You want to answer, he thinks. Your eyebrows relax for a second, an inebriated smile playing around your mouth. If he knows you well enough, he’d guess you’re urging to dive back into your witty remarks.

But none of it is possible just yet. Because when he caresses your pussy again, increasing the pace without being too unreasonably fast, you bite your lip. He urges you to release it with his tongue. And when you do, his finger plunges in; as deeply as it can. So easily, too.

He kisses your clavicles the moment your nails get ahold of his arms, wiggling underneath him, but still caged in. And he sees the built-up frustration; how you kept yourself at bay, but can barely do it now. How you yearn for just one or two more right touches here and there before…

But before he can, he stops. Immediately, unexpectedly for you. Once again, mean, but…

“You’ll thank me later,” he utters — and with those four measly words, something awakens in you that was hidden for just the last ten minutes.

“Oh? You… you’re confident like this.”

“Of course I am.”

“Jungkook…” you say in such frustration that he thinks you’ll beg some more. But you don’t. Instead, you shake your head and say. “Men rarely manage to…”

“This isn’t rare. I’m not giving you rare, ‘kay?”

“I…”

“How…” he readjusts your body, pulling you down the couch, shifting until his knee keeps your legs apart. “How fucking insulting.”

Do you hear any of this anymore? Because your eyes are closed again. Hands still holding on; and… and body winding in order for your cunt to shift closer to him, suddenly rubbing against his knee.

It’s all you can get at the moment since his hands are so far out of reach. And the satisfaction of knowing that you’ll strive for anything at all is cosmic.

“You’re ruining my jeans,” he mocks, clicking his tongue as if to reprimand.

“Then…” You hook a finger into one of his jeans’ loops, pulling and then releasing again. “Take them off, coward.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. They say that if you have waited for so long, what’s ten more minutes? But no more. Not another second.

So he obliges immediately as he mutters, “‘Kay,” offering a helping hand when you work on his shirt. Off and to the ground. Pants off and to the back of the couch. He already knows he’ll be finding them all scattered the next morning.

But that’s the problem of just that next-morning-self.

Boxers still on, he returns to give you another initial taste of what’s to explode. The dress moves up from your hip as he slides it over your skin, stopping right under the mounds he’s still so curious about.

He needs to keep this balanced. Rush as much as might be appropriate, but not too much to make things embarrassing. This… the way he leans down again, opening your legs, erection grinding against your pussy and offering the bare minimum… this is good enough for now…

Or maybe not. Because merely a couple seconds later, you halt mid-moan, letting out breathy words that he struggles to understand until you repeat, “Is that… all you’ll be doing tonight?”

“Hmmm, you want more?”

“I— I don’t know.” Pause, a gulp when he presses his clothed length between your cunt. “Are you going to tell me your secrets if I say yes?”

His secrets?

You must be kidding. He has been an open book to you, chasing you around; if anything, he needs to unravel your mind.

But for that, he needs to play along. So he feigns the same mystery you emanate, teasing, “What do you wanna know?”

And you don’t hesitate. “Everything.”

…Hmm…

You’ve never seemed as interested as you are now. Never dove into his thoughts and the dim heart like now. If he agreed now, would you blurt out something specific? Questions that you formed when he wasn’t paying attention?

No idea. Maybe that’s something to worry about later. Pillowtalk. The morning after talk. Just anything… just not now.

He removes the obstacles currently standing between the two of you. The cushion standing against the back of the couch, constantly falling into your face. He throws it on the ground, so you don’t have to keep swatting it away.

Then, the dress covering your body. He gives a sign of wanting to proceed, and you play along, lifting yourself, chasing his lips as your outfit follows the cushion. And then, the phone right underneath the small of your back, having snuck there, undetected until you yelp, “Oh!”

“What?”

“Cold. Don’t know how it got there.”

He fishes out the device, watching it light up, a notification at the top that he can’t decode and that he doesn’t pay any mind to. Puts it on the coffee table. Then… last but not least… the uncertain atmosphere.

He says, “You want to know everything? Then make a list. I’ll tell you if I feel like it… deal?”

“You’re so…”

“You gotta make me. No other way out, baby.”

An answer lies on your tongue, ready to disrupt the moment. He knows because you look distracted all of a sudden, possibly still thinking about the same thing you did before, dissociating as he sat next to you, wine in hand.

It’s probably about work. Or about Taehyung — God, nobody at work but Jungkook would know, but you mention that guy all the time.

But tonight is not the night to think of others. So he shakes your upcoming inquiries away, giving you no time to think about it further as he, thirsty and impatient, picks you up and off the couch.

Right into his lap. Right onto his cock.

Still a layer between the two of you, watching you grind immediately. For a moment, you put him under your spell, urging him to stay right there and not move away until he’s shot buckets of cum into his boxers.

But…

But he’d rather do it in you, with you, because of truly you.

So he wastes no second as he executes his former plan, large hands sprawling over your ass before he stands with willpower and strength. He throws you a couple inches into the air, making you adjust, and then moves.

Away from the couch, stepping onto the clothes on the floor, careful not to stumble and hurt the two of you. The way to the bedroom seems endless, and you so naked… so… so his for the night. Like what, he still needs to wait those couple square metres?

Fuck, how…

No. It must be a primal instinct that hankers him to give up already, having made it halfway through the room and almost to his bedroom when he suddenly stops. Pinning you against a random free spot at the wall, right under a silent clock.

“What are you…?”

Your voice is trembling, for some reason so incredibly small. For the first time since you lay beneath him on the couch, he sees your eyes properly, and they flit back to the couch as if you’re looking where you just departed from — and then back to him.

“What are you looking for?” he whispers. Tantalisingly, he brings his fingers to your chin, pinching it lightly as he raises your head. “Hm? I’m here. Do you want to go back? Missing the couch? Wall might not be as comfortable, huh…”

“No… that’s not a problem. I’m just… surprised by the change.”

You do look surprised. A little cheekier again as your tone rises, your head falling to the side, lips smiling as if to distract him from something bigger. As if there’s anything bigger in existence right now than you.

“It was just sudden,” you conclude.

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all. I’m just curious.”

He doesn’t need to ask what about. He sees it in this expecting gaze of yours that you want to read and decrypt his next steps. And you can have them.

Because he lets you go, making you fall silently on your feet, kissing you once before he falls to his knees. You groan when he grabs your leg, placing it on his shoulder, restless when his lips charge for your open folds.

He offers you, “Curious, huh? No need,” before kissing your clit, adding another, “Just indulge in it… no need to use your pretty brain today,” and then attaching his mouth and tongue to your dripping pussy.

Digging his large nose into you, tickling your nub, he swirls his tongue around, slurping you up like his favourite drink. Holy fuck, you taste good. He could eat you up, down you in one like a shot. Stay right here all night.

You get ahold of a patch of his hair, but don’t pull — somehow, he wishes you would. Instead, you seem to focus on your body, trying not to fall, keeping it upright. You’re winding, your leg moving, and he soon wraps an arm around your thigh to keep you from stirring too much.

And with the other, he targets your cunt, mouth moving up to make space for the digits to easily, effortlessly slide into you. You gasp, just a bit louder when the metal touches your hot sex, calling his name — and for possibly the first time, he hears you curse, “Fuck. Fuck, I’m— I’m going to pass out.”

Oh my God.

If he could lick you to unconsciousness, he’d feel shocked and proud at once. He wants to see you become weightless, wants to catch you in his arms, and then bring you to his bedroom, still delirious, and fuck your brain out of you.

He wants you so bad. He wants to fuck you so fucking badly. His cock aches, godfuckingdamn.

As he rolls his tongue, lips kissing yours, moving his head left and right as he makes out with your pussy, he almost pulls all the way through. Nearly gives into your body language, nose moving over your clit, fingers pumping in and out, breathing into your pussy hotly.

But he has other plans. He wants to see your damn tears; wants you to unleash all your desperation. So, just when your sounds change, less pauses between them, high-pitched, heavy breathing, he stops.

Draws back, watching you press your ass into the wall, head suddenly hanging low. You whisper, “No…” as he looks up in satisfaction, waiting for you to say more.

You’re out of breath, exhaling through half gritted teeth, a palm on his chest as he rises again. You declare, “I’m going to blueball you, too.”

But the adrenaline has poured buckets of confidence over Jungkook already, and he’s drenched in it as much as in your scent, cocking an eyebrow as he challenges, “You can try.”

“I’m gonna suck your dick so fucking slow.”

“Do it,” he keeps the mask up, wondering how much of the effect you saw upon gracing him with such a provocative image, “let’s see if you make it this far. Might just fuck you into space before that, you know?”

He lets out an unsteady breath, a strand of your hair swaying upon impact. His hand taps at your thigh, testing whether you’ve closed your legs again; and as he realises that you haven’t, much to his pleasure, he palms your pussy, heel of his hand pressing against your clit.

“You’re trying to set me off, because you know you can, right?” he questions, for a split moment distracted by the teeth gnawing at your lower lip. “Smart of you. You are truly smart, babe… but you’re also mine tonight. So don’t play games.”

A slap lands on your vulnerable pussy, and he understands your frustration as you open your mouth, the lower lip previously captive rolling back into place. Soft and gorgeous.

No matter the fading distance, there’s still something inexplicable in the air, as if he can’t really separate a dream from reality. As if he needs evidence that this isn’t yet another figment of his imagination; the ones he’s awoken from several times, underwear threatening to burst.

The hand just torturing your cunt wanders up your body and settles around your neck, like a chain or a necklace or a motherfucking leash. He feels home here, just like this. With your fingers on his wrist, gulping under his touch.

Pinned firmly against the wall, he looks down to where you’re dripping and he’s standing tall, gripping the ever-twitching length that is begging for more. Begging for relief. He’s doing this to himself — because his body is burning up, as if scorched by sun flares.

He’s doing this to the both of you.

The kiss underneath your ear as he leans in. And the still harmless yet sinful touch between his tip and your folds. How he holds the shaft firmly, leading the head between your pussy lips, teasing until just an inch intrudes your awaiting hole.

He moans the moment you do, moving, fucking just the first of the tip into you; scrambling his own thoughts as he says, “God, I could just slide in… you’re so, so wet.”

“What… why say this if you won’t do it?”

Guess you’ve figured him out well enough. Guess that’s the cockiness you implied when you called him a fuckboy in that stupid museum. Or how you kept a safe distance — because thinking about it, maybe Jungkook could be someone to break somebody’s heart.

No. He knows he is. But…

He shakes the thought off his brain, returning to this very moment where you’re waiting for his answer, a heart made of steel. You won’t let him hurt you; you know better than that. You could dodge him easily.

Mentally, at least. Physically, you’re under his mercy.

So he uses this weakness, muttering under his breath, “I will, I will… but not here. We can do better than here.”

Wasn’t this just a pit stop after all? What he’s seeking is still waiting in his bedroom, soft sheets spread over the cold mattress, waiting for a body to warm it up. Or two.

Already hot and bothered, Jungkook lets you go entirely; and the next minute happens in a blur, as though he’s struggling with recognising his own apartment. Suddenly self-conscious about everything and nothing at once.

With you in his grip, he walks along the dark, small corridor; then past the paintings, through the door, into a well-managed, tidy bedroom until he’s sat your ass down. It happens within the tiniest moment — he could narrate how you got here but he can barely recall it.

Dick at the same height as your mouth, he wraps his hand around it. You don’t initiate anything of what you promised, looking into his eyes with a question; he knows you want to avenge yourself and provide the same vanity, but you’d rather skip to the best part.

He wants to, too.

So he doesn’t ram his cock into your mouth, hitting the farthest spot until you gag. Instead, he relishes the image mentally and quietly, fantasising about the warmth of your spit, about the tongue swirling around.

And then… then he goes a step further and imagines the even extended pleasure if he dug into your pussy now, maximising whatever your mouth could make him feel.

Are his thoughts too straight-forward? If he spelled them out like this, one by one, would you find him weird? Too eager? Obsessed?

Maybe he should slow down. Just a bit.

Which is why he holds his shaft closer to you, still surprised when you don’t open up, hints of the past confusion alternating with your confident, mysterious, teasing self. It’s weird to witness. But your eyes are still hazy at least. You don’t seem to want to stop.

God. He can’t figure it out. Not figuring out is agitating even in this moment.

But… good energies. Good energies. All the pent-up frustration needs to be morphed into sheer craze. He can do that.

“Spit on it,” he orders.

You only hum. Something in your gaze changes again, eyelids fluttering, as if awoken from trance. But you’re willing. Immediately mimicking him as you bring a thumb to a mole on the protruding veins. Tracing them, all the way back to his balls until you touch them just lightly, but enough for him to nearly lose his shit.

“Fuck, I said,” he reprimands, though delighted by the sudden rapture, “spit on it.”

You nod as if carrying out a task given by your manager; perhaps used to the last days and weeks when he’d command you around. Ask for another meeting, or for your opinion on a song, or just to keep him company to keep him productive.

Or, to keep you close to him. Lost in thoughts. Many thoughts. And even though none of them became a reality in that room, none of the equipment shoved aside to sit you on the desk, this… this right here is more than enough.

You suck in your cheeks, collecting spit, and when you lean forward… you make such a mess. Spitting onto the tip, a string still connecting your lips and his dick, leftover saliva dripping down your chin and then on your tits.

The view is… worth diamonds.

Do you even know?

“Okay,” he utters, no real direction in his mind, no real sentence to utter. “Okay.”

But you’re equipped with ideas, immediately getting onto the trail you left, spreading the spit over his cock, down to the base. The tip and the slit glisten, traces of precum mixing with your drool, but it’s not enough to cover his length all over.

So he mutters a mental, “More,” to himself, tapping your lips until you open, sticking two of his fingers in and pressing against your tongue. Lubricating his digits, he rolls them over your tongue, far enough to nearly make you gag until he draws back.

Watching you work on him rolls a wave of satisfaction over him. He’s proud, enduring like this. Because judging from the creature you are, as if jumped out of dark mythology, he truly expected to give up way earlier.

But he remains steadfast; eager to not explode until he’s filled you up first. Drawn out your own highs.

“Sweetheart, aren’t you a good one?” Jungkook praises, helping you out with whatever his fingers gathered in your mouth. Then, grabs your wrist, pushing you away, hovering above you with a, “Turn around.”

You gulp again. Then shift back on his bed, sighing as you feel the soft silk underneath your skin, kissing and hugging your body. The sight is gorgeous, with you fleeing to the back of the mattress, obliging so easily. Prey.

And…

“Holy fuck.”

Holy fuck, how you look when you finally get into position. Ass up, upper body down. And the arms over your head? What in the world.

Okay… okay…

Wait. You’re saying something.

His knees dig into the mattress, hand unconsciously pumping his cock — he doesn’t even know when he started — as he moves closer, over your body. Kisses your shoulder, bringing his ear close to hear before, “Huh? What’d you say?”

“I’m already so spent.”

“Ah… do you want to stop?”

“No… you made me feel spent. But you’re not done, are you?”

Pause. Bright smirk. Then, “Of course not. Does it feel like it?” Another kiss to your shoulder, wet this time. “Condom or not?”

“Oh.” Seems you hadn’t even thought about this yet. Kind of nice. “I’m… I use an IUD. Have you… slept with many people lately?”

No answer yet. He thinks. Thinks back to the several weeks since he met you. Should he say it? Would you back away if he did? Years ago, there’d be no debate about it — he wouldn’t have told you. Kept it to himself.

Perhaps there’s still a part of him that’d dodge your question, but he somehow feels like you’d see through him. Hear the insincerity. 

Fuck, is that selfish? Maybe. Doesn’t he already know that he is? But he’s not bad; and people are selfish.

So a second later, he truthfully admits, “Once. Two or so weeks ago. Nothing special though, just dumb, drunk shit. Some girl from a club. And I tested after.”

As soon as the sentence finishes, he wonders if you deem yourself just another one of those. But… in all honesty. She was a one night stand whose sounds, name, dirty talk did nothing to him.

All he could imagine was you. Perhaps not out of loyalty, but surely out of curiosity.

He can’t fathom his thoughts into feelings yet; he still wouldn’t describe his attitude towards you as falling in love or anything. That’d be too far stretched. But he thought about it — that maybe he liked you too much.

Yet, his heart remained empty; but his body never did. He feels bad; and still, he won’t deny whatever his skin and mind whisper to him.

Other than that, he could probably declare with quite a firm certainty that you don’t feel any different about him. You can’t be.

So maybe this is good enough for now.

“But know what?” he says, voice lower, repeating his thoughts. “Could only imagine what it’d be like if it was you. This pussy,” strokes his cock along your cunt, “and this body,” touches the small of your back, “these thoughts got me going. And you’re so much better in reality.”

“Mmmh,” is all you utter, nearly hiding your face in the pillow before you say, “maybe… maybe we can still use a condom then.”

Shit. Expected it.

But okay. Okay.

Where are the condoms again… bedside table? No. He used the last one ages ago, before he knew you. He gets up; walks to the closet; somewhere near his socks, there must be a new pack. A moment to think.

For a second, he looks back at you. You’re still the same, only with the ass having dropped again, losing balance and energy. And maybe, you’re still drunk, too — probably, because even he still feels the world spin, careful not to close his eyes for too long.

Okay. One… no, two foils out. As he turns back to you, nearing you, his head is just a little calmer than a minute again, and he wonders… were all the thoughts his own? The past half an hour or however much passed, didn’t he spiral more and more?

Did you notice? He shakes his head. Who cares?

Not him, not right now. He keeps telling himself that with a goddess waiting in front of him on all fours, he probably doesn’t need to worry about anything unless there’s a reason to. You’ve been cooperative and the night has been successful, minus the strange gazes you keep throwing at him periodically.

“Alright, baby. Up you come,” he mumbles, bringing your ass back to his crotch. His hands are already trained and incredibly skilled; doing work on the condom doesn’t take him more than a couple seconds. “I should tell you now.”

You pause. Suck in some breath, as if expecting something in particular. You agree with an unmatched thirst for knowledge, “…Tell me.”

“I don’t tend to go easy. If you need me to be, you’ll have to tell me. ‘Kay?”

“I… I can take a lot more than you think.”

Fuck. He’ll wreck your shit. “Perfect. You’re honestly a good one, huh? Such a good girl for real, no— no, you’re the best.”

Is he just saying whatever now? Perhaps he should stop boring you and get to it. Right? Please, the goddamn, blood-filled tower down there is desperately imploring him to.

He collects spit like you did before, targeting your glinting pussy, one blob right onto it. Then, he brings his fingers back to where they love to be, distributing the filth between your folds. And then, two fingers into the tightening hole.

Right before moving north, between your ass cheeks, thumb rolling over your other clenching hole. 

And you tense immediately, without saying a word, taking it quietly. Then… then he finally starts.

Brings the annoying rubber to your soaked pussy, poking for a second before he gets serious and eventually dips in. The free hand raises your ass some more, and he shifts forwards, your butt backwards, helping him get in further.

He hears the reaction. Hears the almost-screech in a second, nails biting into the pillow over your head. You hold onto it for dear life as he slowly bottoms out, your sporadic breathing and high-pitched moans mingling with his own bursts of lust.

Deep creases appear between his eyebrows, lips bitten sore, and once his waist has finally connected with your ass, he takes a deep, long inhale. Watches your face disappear deeper into the pillow, sounds muffled.

Enjoys it for a moment before he starts moving slowly. Out, in. Concentrating before he might spill too early. Beads of sweat shimmer on his forehead, dampening the hanging strands of hair. You feel good. Too fucking good—

He wants to go off right away. But… focus.

“How’s that?” he asks.

“Stop… stop talking.”

Oh. Bold. But a good sign, isn’t it? If you wanted him to stop, you’d say it. So he keeps going… dares just a little more, courageous, encouraged by your cooperation. Explores your ass and what lies between the cheeks more, groaning before he says, “You stop that.”

His hand reaches for your wrists, keeping you from tearing his pillow and leading your fingers to where his touched your ass before. You keep your touch there, unmoving until he says, “Keep them apart.”

And you seem to understand. His thumb returns to your unoccupied hole as his cock impales your pussy whole, still going at a tormenting pace. Thick and soaked, he’s splitting you in two; maybe that’s why the slow plunges are such a plague. Because both of you know there could be more.

Pulling your ass cheeks apart, you remain with your face in the sheets, arms trembling as he circles your hole again. He doesn’t know if you’re into this; doesn’t know if you’ll protest. So far, he’s been pretty obvious with his intentions, and he’s sure you must understand this one, too.

And you’re not fearful; if something bothered you, you wouldn’t hesitate to voice your displeasure. So he spits one more time, right onto his thumb, using the lubrication to carefully, curiously dip the tip of his thumb into your ass.

You yelp immediately; as your hole tightens around the little bit of his thumb, your pussy narrows around his cock, too, and he nearly loses it. Nearly drools onto your back as his mouth drops open, blinking rapidly for a second.

God, your body reacts with such intensity. Still, he makes sure, “Too much?”

And you, candidly, reply, “I don’t know. I… think so.”

“Okay. Then I’ll sto—”

“No. No, wait… I want to— I want to know what it’s like.”

Thought so. He knew that underneath all the chic charade, you crave just as much as he does. And if it’s him that you long for, then what even stands between him and the rocket shooting his ego to the sky?

This feels good. Really good… not just physically. You lift his spirits.

Ready with an exhale, he dares his thumb deeper, letting more of it disappear in you. Out of all the women he’s ever been with, not more than a handful has been willing to venture into this part of sexual desire. Most of them can’t stand the discomfort, and some of them don’t feel any particular way about it.

But you lay open to him in every way possible. An open book for once; easy to read, as if calculating how you wind, planning how to sound, guiding him fearlessly.

Soon, he’s adjusting his thrusts to your moans, and you’re adjusting your moans to his thrusts. Synchronised, the two of you groan and cry out together, and he makes sure to keep you filled to the brim, reducing the pauses between the shoves bit by bit.

Until…

“Hey,” he whispers, waiting for you to react, but as he pumps into you, slowly yet balls-deep, you don’t do anything much but scream into the pillow. So he just continues, “How much do you think you can take, baby?”

“I… I’m—”

You’re attempting your best, but you’re tongue-tied. With each push, he catapults your body forwards, but your mind is long lost in the stratosphere. With gritted teeth and a rising, heavily breathing, golden chest, he leans in close to you, hand snaking under you and around your neck as he retries, “So?”

“I don’t know,” you blurt, and as you raise your head and look back at him, he sees a sight to behold — mascara underneath your eyes, lipstick smeared, a quivering chin. He’s fucking you so good; he must be, because you soon add, “Just do an—and I’ll let you know.”

“Good idea. Very good idea.”

He’s fucking you good. But it’s not all he’s got; not all he’s wanted for days and weeks.

No. If he unleashed all he’s been fabricating in his mind, he’d drench your cheeks in tears. And now that you permitted him to, he might just go ahead, right?

Right.

Which is why the next steps come easy to him, naturally, as if you pressed a button he’s been waiting to smash. A big, red one, like the ones in games urging you to not touch or you’d lose. But by God, right now, he’s not losing.

If he looked into his reflection in the dark window, he’d see a winner through and through.

A fiery rage courses through his burning veins. A face contorting when he lets you go, only to move his fingers back, wrapping them around the back of your neck. Shoving you into the mattress, ramming his cock into you, once more keeping the familiar pace and then—

And then he closes his eyes. Matches an expression to your yelps. Drives into your deepest core and picks up speed until, all of a sudden, it turns jarring.

Jungkook doesn’t get enough. He doesn’t know if he ever will; damn the approaching end of this. There shouldn’t be one; he should be capable of ruining you forever. Maybe he will be.

For now, he directs his thoughts fully on how you feel and how you sound, uncaring about the jagged breathing that burns up his chest. Leaning forward, he attempts twice until he catches your ears, nibbling at your earlobe.

At first, he doesn’t know if you register the touch, given that he’s occupying you with far crazier sensations. But then you reach out a hand, panting into the pillow, grabbing a patch of his hair. 

And he, fired up and insane, leans back, gripping your wrist, removing it from his mane and pinning it to your back instead. Your face moves to the side, not muffled by the pillow anymore, and you gasp for air before you beg, “Please, I’m about to—”

That’s all you get, because he soon interrupts with a cheeky, “You can hold on for a bit longer,” pausing on purpose. He wants to see you when you come. Wants to wipe more of your make up across your face. Wants to kiss the colour of your lipstick onto his own lips.

Letting your orgasm fade, he waits, just a couple seconds, allowing you to catch your breath until your eyebrows furrow. You blink repeatedly, then looking up into his eyes, and it’s all he needs to feel his patience dissipate again.

Jungkook gets into a new position, leaving one knee deep in the mattress while angling the other leg, planting its foot on the sheets. He keeps his cock from falling out, leading the tip and the shaft back in before he resumes to fuck you wound.

Your arm is still hostage to his grip, the nails of your other hand gripping the sheet for dear life. It’s gorgeous, the view from where Jungkook looks down at his meal. Crazy how you purr and whine when he leans in, touching your swollen clit, electrifying you. And he keeps looking at you.

At the upper body waving a white flag, too weak to keep yourself upright anymore. And then, the ass in the air staying firmly at its place, his dick aiding you, the flesh of your cheeks wobbling with each thrust, like an ocean wave. Whenever it collides with his hips, the slaps resound temptingly, and Jungkook soon mimics it by letting his hand fall hard on your ass.

You mewl, calling out his name twice, the second cry half uttered, half of the Jungkook omitted. And when you catch the tiniest of your breaths, still working with drying lungs, you say, “L-let me come, please—”

“Wait,” he says again, still sadistic, still masochistic, absolutely out of his mind before an idea lights up his mind. “This isn’t it yet.”

The finger working on your nub was an evil tactic, he’s got to admit. Perhaps he led you to believe something he’s not ready to give you yet, and once you seem to realise, you let out a sob.

And he’s positively delighted once he stops. Lowers his head to look at you. Sees the dark, smeared mascara on his pillow when he digs his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back as he says, “I know. You thought we were done, right? We’re not done, though.”

“Wha—”

He lets his body fall onto the mattress, right next to you, and pulls you in, back against his chest. Hand under your tits, pressing against them, moving them up and down before pinching your nipple once.

“I said,” he repeats, probably unnecessarily, because he doesn’t think you actually demand an answer, “I’m not done. Understand?”

And as expected, you don’t nod or answer. You only push your body further into his, and he reckons that’s a mighty sufficient implication already.

As you lay sideways with a breath as heavy as his, his exhales hot against your ear, you let out sounds reminiscent of marathon runners. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and so is he — but neither of you are finished, and he’d be damned if he permitted the night to end like this.

Diligently, he throws your quivering leg over his; your impish remarks have lessened since he took over, and in turn, his own insolent emotions are reigning supremely. He leads his submerged, rock-hard, twitching cock to your battered cunt, pushing in so easily he thinks he’s dreaming.

It’s like putting a key into its lock.

“Ahh, fuck.” It’s hard to fully bottom out in this position, but he can touch you so much better now. He lets his hands explore your bare body, fondling with your tits, kissing your ear and jaw. “Hold tight. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

It’s cruel, he knows; the gentle praises as he wreaks havoc down there. He crosses your wrists against your tummy, holding them tight, and you close to him. Fucks you dumb and stupid as you wail in his arms. Moves to your clit and gives it pleasant, gentle rubs, so opposite from the rest of his ministrations.

And the pressure builds. His balls, hard as steel, prepare to shoot their load into you, his cock impossibly stiff, but… but…

You haven’t come yet. And this position won’t do. Can’t do, won’t do, he needs to see you.

So he echoes, “Won’t do,” as he gets up again, keeping the previous position short lived. Doesn’t stay away for too long before he’s on his knees, pulling your legs apart, after the briefest interruptions deep inside again before he leans into you.

And then, everything happens crazy fast.

How he keeps you from wrapping your arms around him; instead, capturing your wrists once again, raising them next to your head. How he moves to kiss you for the first time after quite a while, intertwining your tongues, moaning hard as he feels his high approach.

The fast pace changes a little as he loses his mind and focus, one of the strokes stopping as he almost pulls out, and then plunges in again. Your fingers curl in, nails sharp enough to dig into the digits that hold you, and he cries out in delight, letting a breathy chuckle fall.

He says, “Alright, yeah. Next time… we’re tying you up. Love how you whine.” He lets one hand go, gripping your face again and you move your touch to his shoulder immediately, gasping. “You always p-play the mysterious girl, huh? But you’re so pathetic right now.”

The inhibitions are out the window. The overthinking, too. Whatever he thought might make you run away from him has long exited his mind, because he’s got you right here, under his control, nearing the end.

There’s no going back. No return to his yearning, because you’ve satisfied it so thoroughly.

Time to give it all back to you. One last time before he submerges himself in all his glorious egotism.

“There we go,” he says as he watches your expressions change. You open your mouth but don’t say anything. He doesn’t know what your orgasm feels like, but he knows you’re going through it. “Let it all out. Cream my cock, I fucking dare you.”

He’s saying whatever now, he knows. But he doesn’t have the capacity to think much as creases appear on your forehead and between your eyebrows, tongue mingling with his for a short moment when he goes in for another kiss, barely succeeding.

You’re trembling, lifting your hips as much as the weight above you allows, wanting more friction, more of a touch inside your pussy, on your clit, everywhere. And then, when you do come… when he brings the stars from the sky into your eyes…

Yours roll back into your head. Throwing it back, giving him access to your neck. Lips still apart, and he uses it to push a finger into your mouth, on top of your tongue. And fuck… how your pussy constricts. How it tightens so fucking much.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t affect him.

So much so that his head spins; and as he feels himself getting dizzy, he buries his face in the pillow next to your head before moving it to kiss your shoulder. Barely looks at you anymore; doesn’t care, it’s his high now, he wants to fucking come, and that’s it.

Finally, finally he’s gotten to this point.

Will he hate himself for these thoughts later? Is this too over the top? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, doesn’t care.

His thoughts are occupied, alright, don’t need another string of questions to intervene. His attention remains resolutely on his movements, vigorous, rhythmic, your sounds perfectly matching each of his strokes.

And your hands, the poor little palms, unsure where to settle. This isn’t new; across this broad back of his, every girl’s touch wanders like this. Your nails scratch the small of his back, then up his spine, across the muscles of his shoulder blades.

The fact that you’re a goner as much as him, giving yourself to him is probably the last of reassurances he needs — as if any more were required. Because still panting into your skin, eyes shut tight, he works towards the peak of his sanity, exhausted but eager as he relishes the wet tightness of your pussy; surrounding him just right, still clenching, unclenching from your orgasm.

And then—

“Ohhh, fuck,” he whispers.

His voice is shaking uncontrollably; he barely recognises it. Which… must mean this is new, right? Experience be damned, apparently you spark off phenomena nobody has ever acquainted him with before.

And oh, how you make it worse once he finally emerges again, as if catching his breath after holding it underwater for too long. Your eyes are hooded as he gets on his knees over your body, caging your hips in between his legs. Gripping one of your tits, you nibble your lower lip for a second before letting out laboured breathing, nose flaring.

It’s all he needs. All that’s left when he rips off the condom and envelops his filthy cock with his veiny hand, stroking immediately and hard. Close to the end as he rushes to ask, “Where do you want it?”

You understand what he’s asking, and nod, back to yourself when you utter mysteriously, “Anywhere but inside…” Okay. No time to ask why not — but he wouldn’t have anyway. He obliges, giving his all, one more second left before you tell him just in time, “Here.”

Your palm rubs across your skin, moving over your tits and your stomach. So he’s quick to opt away from your face and redirect his aim to where you pointed, moaning out a couple last, broken vocals before he finally spills.

Milky white, multiple blotches scattered over your skin, like a modern art painting. He’d rather draw these all day than be stuck with you in a museum restaurant, staring from afar, wishing he could reach out under the goddamn public table.

Going until he’s empty, he senses a relief unknown to him thus far, mind suddenly vacant. Once again, the ocean; he feels like the ocean. Like the water as it stills and calms after a thunderous storm. You lifted the waves of his sea high above and have now turned him into a lazy, peaceful lake.

God, he should fuck you more often; you make him a poet.

Okay. Okay, where was he?

When did he unfocus? Dizzy all of a sudden. He puffs out a breath. Then takes another look at you. Watches as you spread the sticky substance over your mounds, touching your nipple, so indecently messy.

The smirk is unintentional but inevitable, reaching far as he shakes his head at you. You smile back wordlessly, and he lets his fingertip run over his cum, too, bringing it to your lips as he asks, “Taste?”

You don’t answer. Thinking for the barest second before you scoff, stretching out your tongue before he puts the finger on it; closing your eyes, sucking it clean. He groans at the feeling; luckily, he’ll be immobile for the foreseeable future, or he’d bend you over again.

“Okay. That should be enough for now,” he breathes, letting himself fall next to you. “I promise I’m a lot more energised on other days. But…” He turns towards you, pinching your chin, bringing your face close. “God, did you take me out there. I’m beat.”

He doesn’t kiss you; only drops back, still filling his lungs with new oxygen. Pity — he still wants you, but his muscles are aching. Eyes shutting.

Then opening again when he hears you laugh, right before you say, “You don’t need to prove your endurance to me. I’ve got a pretty good idea of it now. Besides— let’s be honest. I didn’t do much.”

“Oh, you did more than enough, sweetheart,” Jungkook retorts with a snicker, giving his eyes some relief. He sighs, and then adds, “Your existence did it for me already. Wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

He shoves his arm under his head, the other untidily covering the two of you with the blanket; whatever. He’ll wash it tomorrow. For now, the two of you should probably get some rest. Although—

Did you say you wanted to stay? He didn’t catch it if you did. Perhaps he’s also just inattentive; suddenly remembers that he still has a long way to go socially, remembering that permission is courtesy. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“Uhm,” he starts; this is awkward. He doesn’t do this often — not many stay overnight anyway. Strangely, he didn’t question it with you; maybe because he wants you to. “Do you want me to bring you home?”

“In all honesty, I… I don’t think you can drive tonight. We’re both not sober yet, so I’ll just leave in the morning. Need to be in the office by noon.”

“Ah? Why?”

“Meeting with Tae. I forgot that he wanted to go through a few organisational things for the upcoming concert.”

Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company.

Jungkook forgot about it all. Responsibilities still exist. Of course, he needs to be in the office tomorrow afternoon, too. This is his dream, his goal, everybody’s eyes on him, the biggest source of entertainment in the country.

Feels so stupid, forgetting you’ll leave at some point. That he can’t flip you over again all day tomorrow, that you’ll be occupied somewhere else, with someone else. Jungkook grits his teeth.

“You wanna come over again tomorrow night?” he asks.

And all of a sudden, despite the last hour, you seem lost in thoughts again. Probably tired, but he can’t help but overthink. You don’t answer immediately, keeping him on the edge, and as he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, he looks over, seeing your eyes open when you say, “Don’t know. Might have a couple things to tend to.”

Ah… okay. Sure.

Where’s your mind right now, he wonders?

Maybe circling around work. Maybe your urge to go is as little as his? All these things, they don’t sound too delightful right now, do they?

Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company. Tae.

When did you start using his nickname like this? Weird. Didn’t know the two of you were so close. Then again, does it matter? No. He shakes his head.

Shakes it slowly, making sure you don’t notice, sighing again before he breaks into a smile. It’s okay. You’re next to him. Not next to Taehyung. His friend. You’re covered in him. So he doesn’t let another’s name fog his brain, instead seeking peace and succeeding until—

“Don’t worry, another time,” you say, following up with a goosebump-inducing, “I’ll stick around until my feet tingle.”

Somewhere… at some point in his life… under probably not the best circumstances— 

Wait.

THE FIC ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ 👇🏼

as always, tumblr hates content creators and has a 1k block limit. which is why you can read the rest of the story in this reblog hehe we're almost at the end <3

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officer

Summary: After Javi brings home a pair of handcuffs from work, your plans for the night start to look very different.

Word Count: 7.2K (she got away from me real fast)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v (It's implied that Javi got the snip, we're good y'all), oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, sex toys, roleplay (kind of? Javi's got access to handcuffs and you're giving him enough attitude to bring out the brat tamer in him 😵‍💫), rough sex, creampie, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, dom!javi (but still the same sweet, soft Javi that we all know and love who loves his wife), a sprinkle of a breeding kink (because it's trademark at this point), heavy on the praise kink, sexting, safe word/consent (hawt), spanking (not that hard), one AFFECTIONATE use of slut!, Javi is our aftercare king (are we surprised? no.) Javi's mouth is so filthy I'm washing my own out with soap, I'm not gonna lie to y'all, this is NASTY and I don't think I've ever put this many warnings for something lmao (also, still fluff and dad!Javi because I say so)

A/N: ....... Soooooooo, yeahhhhhhhh. This is hands down the filthiest thing I've ever written 🤠 Steppin' a little out of my normal comfort zone for this one- idk what's in the water this month, but I think someone may have to come put me out to pasture pretty soon!!!! Checking myself into horny prison with a life sentence!!!!! I hope you guys enjoy, I know it's different than the norm, but lemme know what you think 🥺 Thanks for supporting me through my horny endeavors, ily all!!!

The days of chasing down bad guys and capturing criminals were a thing of the past for Javier Peña- at this point, the closet he'd come to his past life in Columbia in his position at the Laredo Sheriff's Department was using every ounce of patience he had to deal with his knuckle headed co-workers whenever they did something stupid.

While the job title "Border Protections Consultant" provided Javi with a much quieter and calmer life than working as a DEA agent, when his daughters had asked him to come in for Career Day, their classmates were convinced that he might as well have been straight out of "Men in Black."

Unfortunately for the other parents who had decided to show, Javi's appearance had out shadowed any of the other jobs after his daughters classes had learned he worked for the Police Department to help catch "bad guys" (even if the better part of the class had decided to ignore the fact he wasn't the one physically going out to stop them).

After showing off some cool accessories he had brought with him from the department and sharing some watered down, age appropriate stories to make his presentation more interesting, the Peña girls were the talk of the town at Alma Pierce Elementary, riding the high of being dubbed "The Kids With the Coolest Dad" by everyone in their class, especially after he signed them out early with promises of slushies before heading home.

So when Javi and the girls arrived back to the house, it was no shock to you that your daughters were still beaming with excitement about their dad's celebrity appearance.

"Mommy, Mommy!" Lucy, your oldest squealed as she burst through the door, dropping her backpack with a thud to greet you in the kitchen, "Dad had the best job at all of Career Day. All the kids in my class said he was the coolest one."

"Oh was he now?" You smirked, watching as Javi and your other two daughters, Elliot and Harper, trailed behind Lucy, equally beaming with excitement.

"Yeah! That's what all the kids in my class said too!" Elliot exclaimed, plopping herself down next to her sister at one of the barstools at your kitchen island.

"Me too!" Harper added, finding her usual spot next to her sisters.

"Looks like someone's reached celebrity status." You giggled, playfully raising your eyebrows at Javi as he came to greet you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other dropped his work bag on the countertop, pulling you closer for a kiss.

"What's a celebrity?" Harper asked, staring at her sisters in confusion.

"Someone who's like, really famous." Lucy answered, Elliot nodding adamantly in agreement that her dad was, in fact, their elementary school's newest celebrity.

"So I take it the presentation went well then?" You asked, shrugging at Javi, trying not to blush with pride from his daughter's admiration.

"Guess so." Javi replied, shedding his suit jacket and tossing it next to his bag, loosening his tie and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows before reaching in one of your cabinets to grab a glass of water.

"Dad told our class about how he helps catch bad guys and put them in jail, for like, forever."

"And he told everyone about how a long time ago, before he was old, that he used to go run through the streets and catch people and put them in handcuffs!"

"He even brought in handcuffs for everyone to see!"

The last comment most definitely caught your attention, crossing your arms over your chest and tilting your head at Javi, trying your best to keep from letting a suspicious smirk spread across your face.

"Oh? Daddy brought handcuffs? Daddy doesn't normally use handcuffs at his job. I wish I would have gotten to see them."

While your girls would have never noticed anything unusual about your question, Javi was nearly choking on the sip of water he had just taken, very clearly understanding the implications of what you had just asked, coughing a few times as he tried to compose himself.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Harper asked, looking at Javi with concern.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm good, baby. Just didn't know Mommy wanted to um- wanted to see my handcuffs so badly." Javi stammered, glancing over at you with a devilish look in his eyes.

"You should show her! They're really cool, Mom!" Lucy proposed, her sisters nodding along in agreement, blissfully unaware of the tension rapidly thickening between you and Javi.

"Um- y-yeah, maybe later, Lu." Javi stuttered, still keeping eye contact with you as he answered his daughter, "Why don't you guys um- why don't you guys go play outside for a little bit."

"Really?! Before homework?!" Elliot squealed in surprise and delight.

"Yeah, go- go play. Mom and I will come get you guys in a few."

Javi could barely finish his sentence before your girls were sprinting to the backyard, leaving you and your husband alone in the kitchen in a silent stare down until the backdoor was shut behind them.

"Man, you must reallllyy wanna show me those handcuffs, Javi." You cooed, tongue darting out of your mouth as you bit down on your lip, getting a kick out of how rattled one little comment had made him.

"You better be careful with that shit, Hermosa." Javi groaned, stepping towards you, hands sliding down your back until they were groping your ass, slowly kneading the soft flesh in his hands.

"Yeah? Or what? You gonna use them on me?" You mewled, whispering in Javi's ear, the hot breath of your words making him audibly moan, taking a deep inhale and exhale to try and keep from busting right then and there.

"Jesus fucking christ- If you're gonna keep teasing me like this, then maybe I fucking should." Javi sighed, pulling you closer to feel the bulge hardening in his slacks, pressed against your thigh.

"Is that a threat, or a promise, Officer?"

At this point, you knew you were playing dirty, but you couldn't help hit, sultry smile spread across your lips at the way Javi's jaw had gone slack, practically hitting the floor in horny disbelief that your night was about to take such drastic turn.

"Depends, has sido una chica mala (have you been a bad girl)?" Javi hummed, voice rumbling deep in his chest as his grip around you tightened, eyes growing dark with lust, watching you play innocent, batting your lashes up at him.

"Para ti? Si. (For you? Yes.)"

Letting out a low, quite laugh, Javi shook his head before reaching one of his hands up, wrapping his fingers around your jaw and top half of your neck, forcing your gaze up at him and his smug snarl.

"Then it's a promise." He paused, the two of you staring at each other with a silent thrill of excitement pulsing through your veins. "Go pack the girl's bags, I'm dropping them off at my Dad's."

"Javi, are you sure? It's a Friday night, we can't just drop them at your dad's like this last minute. What if he-"

"Talked to him earlier this week. I know he's not busy. Even if he was, he'd drop whatever it was to have a sleepover with the girls. Like I really need to twist his arm to watch them."

"Okay, well what are we gonna tell him when he asks why we're dropping them off unplanned?" You retorted, knowing Javi wasn't wrong, but feeling bad for springing your girls unsuspectingly onto your father-in-law.

"That it's an emergency." Javi shrugged, his mouth working faster than his brain to find an answer to your question.

"Being horny isn't an emergency, Jav." You sighed, rolling your eyes at your husband.

"I'll figure something out. And if you keep talking like that to me, it most definitely is an emergency." Javi smirked, gaze of his reassuring, sweet brown eyes winning you over with ease.

"Okay. Go call your dad, I'll get the girls ready." You grinned, anticipation bursting at your seams as Javi raced to the back door, throwing it open to yell out to your daughters.

"Pollitas (little chickens)! Come inside, we're going to Abuelo's!"

The two of you were convinced you'd never worked faster to get your daughters out the door, frantically throwing together their sleepover bags with their help before Javi was nearly tossing them into his truck, the girls none the wiser and happy as could be to have a surprise sleepover with Chucho.

"Thanks again for watchin' em, Pops. We'll come pick them up in the morning." Javi nodded, giving his dad a quick hug after dropping off Lucy, Elliot and Harper, who had blessed him with a short and sweet goodbye as they rushed off to the barn to go feed the horses, leaving Javi to part ways with his dad.

"Of course, hijo. You know I love having mis nietas (my granddaughters) here, even when it's a surprise. I must have missed it on the phone, but what was so urgent? Not that I'm complaining." Chucho asked, resting his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, patiently waiting for his son's response.

"It um- something uh- something came up, and I-" Javi stammered, face turning bright red as his eyes darted towards the ground, trying to come up with some sort of bold faced lie off the top of his head before his dad cut him off.

"I thought I done getting grandkids?" Chucho smirked, relishing in Javi's uncomfortability, having a sneaking suspicion exactly why his son had made such a quick and urgent request.

"Jesus, Dad..." Javi sighed, burying his face in his hands to try and hide his embarrassment, not confirming or denying his father's acquisitions.

"Makes me happy to know you two are still very much in love." Chucho chuckled, patting his son on the back.

"Okay, I'm gonna go now," Javi huffed, scrunching his face in shame, giving his dad one more awkward hug before trotting back to his truck, "Thanks, Pops."

"Don't mention it, Javier. Take your time tomorrow. Tell your wonderful wife I say hello and that I hope the two of you have a fun night toget-"

"Jesus Christ... Bye, dad." Javi groaned, climbing into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming the door behind him as Chucho disappeared into the house, giddily laughing to himself.

Meanwhile, while Javi was busy dropping off the girls (insisting that you didn't come, because he'd have zero self control if you did), you had decided to go digging through the back of your underwear drawer, looking to find something to surprise Javi with when he returned home.

You pulled out a few choices, tossing them onto your bed to browse through before finding a black, lacy set you had almost forgotten about- the delicate, barely there, see through lace of the bra paired with the equally as skimpy thong seeming like an ideal option for the night ahead of you.

If you weren't already thrumming with enough anticipation as you changed into your new attire, your phone lit up on your nightstand, buzzing as Javi's name popped up on the screen.

Javi: Leaving Pops. Be back in 20.

You stared up at the clock, quietly calculating Javi's arrival time before you were interrupted by another vibration.

Javi: Wait on the bed for me. Don't touch yourself until I'm back.

You could almost hear Javi's voice, commanding you with just enough sternness, but not enough to stop you from pushing the limits just a little.

Grabbing your phone, you opened up your camera, dropping to your knees in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, seductively posing to tease just enough of your surprise to get Javi home to you in 12 minutes instead of 20.

You: Yeah? And what if I do? 😉

You smirked as you sent your text and picture, giggling to yourself at Javi's near immediate response.

Javi: Fuck me. You're so fucking sexy.

Javi: Your pussy's all mine tonight. Be a good girl and do what you're told. Bad girls get punished.

You: Maybe I wanna be punished 😏

Javi: Careful what you wish for baby. See u soon.

You could already feel your stomach swelling with arousal, your text messages alone beginning to soak a damp patch into the lace of your thong, making the fabric clinging around your swollen and puffy pussy, leaving you with a throbbing ache between your legs.

You wandered over to your nightstand, searching around the back, just like you had done with your dresser, looking through the few toys kept there. It had been a while since any of them had made an appearance in your bedroom, not because you or Javi were opposed to it, but because with how religiously Javi wanted to be the one who made you feel good, it wasn't often they were going to use unless you were uncontrollably horny and Javi wasn't home.

And even though at this point he'd be home in 15 minutes, right now, you found yourself in both of those categories, the added layer of seeing if he'd make good on his threat only turning you on more.

With the way your clit was throbbing and cunt clenching around nothing, you opted for your rabbit vibrator, climbing into bed with the toy as you settled yourself into the pillows, lying on your back and spreading your legs to try and ease the ache between them.

You ran the head of the toy over the soaked fabric of your panties a few times before pulling the damp lace to the side, shuttering as it brushed against your clit. With how wet you were from want, you easily slid the tip of the toy into your entrance, sinking it deeper into your pussy until the smaller end was hitting against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You whimpered at the sensation- still feeling no where near as good as what Javi would, but finally easing the fluttering of your pussy and throbbing of your clit was enough to give you temporary relief for now.

You thanked whatever lucky stars were out there in the universe that your vibrator had battery power left, clicking it on to feel the low hum shoot through your lower half, making you squirm against the sheets.

You lazily dragged the vibrator in and out of your heat, just enough to prod against your g-spot without leaving your clit untouched, imagining Javi's length thrusting in and out of you while the worn pads of his fingers circled your throbbing nub, whispering filthy, sweet nothings into your ear as he fucked you.

"That's it, pretty girl. Make yourself feel good. So fucking wet, making such a mess for me."

You threw your head back on the pillow, clamping your eyes shut as you let the scene continue you to play out in your head, turning up the intensity of your vibrator as you rocked it faster and deeper into your cunt.

"You're taking it so well, baby. My good girl. There you go. Pretty little pussy wants to cum so bad, huh? Greedy thing couldn't wait for me to take care of her like I asked?"

You were so caught up in your own pleasure that you could have sworn you'd heard Javi speaking to you. Too lost in your imagination, you didn't stop, feeling your orgasm beginning to creep through your body. So lost, that you didn't hear the heavy footsteps padding their way to the edge of the bed or broad body looming over you.

"Just couldn't wait until I got back, huh?"

Your eyes shot open, the all too familiar low and sultry laugh much too real for you to have imagined, looking up to see Javi standing over you, hands on his hips as he watched you fuck yourself on your vibrator.

"Javi! J-jesus, baby. You scared the shit outta me." You huffed, trying to catch your breath as you scrambled to turn off your vibrator, whining at the loss as you pulled the soaking toy out of you, sitting up straighter on the bed.

"Wouldn't have scared the shit out of you if you did what you were told." Javi tutted, smirking to himself, "You gonna be a good girl and do what you're told, or am I gonna have to teach my pretty little wife a lesson about following directions?"

Before you could say anything, Javi was grabbing you by the hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your legs dangled off the mattress, letting him lean in to give you a desperate kiss, tongues and teeth clashing in a messy fight. With his hands frantically roaming your body, tracing over your lacy silhouette, he pulled away from your kiss just enough to let the words of his whisper dance against your skin.

"Donut. If it's too much. Repeat it back to me."

"Donut." You moaned, nodding your head in agreement at your safe word.

"You promise you'll tell me if it's too much? I don't wanna hurt you, amor." Javi asked, the familiar sweet and sensitive concern of your husband unveiling itself through your facade, puppy eyes locking with yours for confirmation.

"I promise. Damelo, Papi. (Give it to me, Daddy). "

As soon as your eyes locked in harmony, giving Javi your promise, the once sweet and innocent gaze had now turned to something much darker, the brown of his pupils pooling with lust, reaching behind you to grab the vibrator laying on the comforter, still covered in your slick.

Dropping to his knees, Javi parted your thighs, settling himself between them to admire the wet, puffy mess you had already made by yourself, running his fingers over the lacy fabric that had been barely covering it up, tugging it tight like a rubber band before letting it slap against your pussy, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you.

"She's crying for me, isn't she, baby? Poor thing. Trying to fuck yourself on this, wishing it was my cock, weren't you?" Javi scolded mockingly, turning on the vibrator and running it through your folds, teasing you everywhere but where you wanted to be touched.

"Y-yes. Wanna cum all around your cock, Javi." You moaned, face scrunching as he slid the toy up and down your weeping slit.

"But bad girls don't always get what they want, do they? Sometimes," He paused, slipping the toy into your hole until the longer curve was flushed to your g-spot and the shorter to your clit, "sometimes, they have to beg for what they want. You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?"

"Make me."

The words rolled off your tongue with a bratty confidence, a challenge you knew damn well he'd accept. Javi turned on the vibrator, cranking it up to it's highest setting, tongue running over his teeth as he watched your body jolt, grabbing fist fulls of your bedsheets to brace yourself.

"Oh fuck-" You muttered, swallowing hard, trying to suppress the shock of pleasure that had ignited in you as the vibrator thrummed at full force, Javi pushing it right up against the soft spongy spot inside he knew drove you wild, making sure the other part of the toy stayed nestled between your folds.

Javi could see your pussy beginning to flutter, clenching tighter around the toy as arousal began to seep out of your hole, pressing the vibrator deeper into you, only egging your impending orgasm on further.

"I know you wanna cum, baby. Ask nicely before I make you beg for it." Javi groaned, the hand not holding the vibrator now digging into your hip, holding you in place.

"N-no." You stammered, confidence wavering as you felt the tingle at the base of your spine start to spread rapidly through your body. Gripping tighter onto the tangled sheets, you felt your legs begin to tremble, cunt clamping down around the toy, about to cross the finish line until-

"Fuck! Nononono, Javi- fuck!" You cried out, whimpering as Javi yanked the vibrator from your cunt, leaving you empty and aching, the near high of your almost orgasm quickly dissipating.

"What's it gonna be, Hermosa? You gonna be good for me now?" Javi mewled, snarky smile spread between his lips watching your chest heave with heavy breaths after leaving you on the brink of collapse.

"Fuck- No. Make me, Javi." You huffed back, trying to keep cocky as if you weren't seconds away from crumbling under his touch.

Javi's response was nothing but a low laugh to himself, turning the vibrator back on high and stuffing it into your hole, fucking you with it more intensely than before. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, jaw going slack as the feeling of the fullness and buzzing consumed you, putting you back on edge of where you just were moments ago.

The only thought you could process was how close you were cumming, cunt throbbing and pulsing around your vibrator, body trembling with need as the coil in your stomach was about to snap.

"J-Javi, Javi, I-" You stammered, trying to string together a coherent sentence.

"What, baby? You gonna cum?" Javi asked, taunting you with his tone.

You tried your best to nod your head, nearly there, thinking that Javi would give in, only to let out another wanton cry as he pulled out the vibrator again, even more desperate and empty than before.

"Fuckfuckfuck! No, fuck! Javi, no-" You sobbed, white knuckling your sheets, bucking your hips into nothing, "Javi, let me cum. I wanna- fuck- I wanna cum!"

"Brats don't get to cum, cariño." Javi tutted, tossing the vibrator to the edge of the bed, caging your body under his, teeth nipping across your skin, hands cupping your lace covered breasts, fingers slipping under the fabric to tweak your pebbled nipples while his mouth met yours. "You want it? You get on your knees and beg for it like a good girl."

"And what if I don't? What if I don't wanna listen, Agent Peña?" You retorted, staring up at him with a devilish grin, trying to egg him on enough to reach for the handcuffs he had dangling out of the back of his pants pocket.

Reaching down to snake your hand between your bodies to try and rub your clit, you were stopped in your tracks, Javi wrapping is hand firmly around your wrist, grabbing it, and your other free arm to pin both your wrists to the bed above your head in his grasp.

He paused for a moment, looking down at you for a silent confirmation that you were comfortable with what was about to happen next, both of your heart beats pounding in your ears as you gave him a subtle, but adamant nod, biting down on your bottom lip with a sultry grin.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Fuck me-" He murmured to himself, trying to keep from laughing under his breath from pure exhilarated elation, breaking his stern facade. After a brief moment of self-composure, Javi was digging in the back pocket of his slacks, pulling out the shiny, silver pair of handcuffs that had gotten you in this position in the first place. "Either you listen, or I make you fucking listen, Hermosa."

"I'm sorry, Officer, I never have been a good listener." You cooed, batting your lashes and pouting at him with the big doe eyes and plush bottom lip, watching something animalistic begin to consume him.

In a sudden and frantic dance of limbs, Javi was clipping his handcuffs around your wrists, leaving enough room to wiggle them without pain in the confines of the cool metal, but with nowhere near enough room you were breaking free from them without his help. Bringing your now locked arms from above your head to in front of your chest, Javi was manhandling you off the edge of the bed to the ground, settling you to your knees in front of him.

A feverish thrill ran through you as you watched Javi undo his belt, metal buckle clanging as he shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, his painfully hard cock springing free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a trail of precum on the bottom of his shirt.

Your mouth watered as you watched his length bob in front of you, wishing your hands were free to wrap your fingers around his base, stroking him while you lubed him up with your spit and his precum before taking him into your mouth. Instead, it was Javi running his hand along his shaft, the other reaching down to thumb at your bottom lip, coaxing your jaw to go slack for him.

"Open." He commanded, tapping the tip of his cock against your tongue as you stuck it out, the warm and salty dribble of his precum leaking into your mouth.

Javi gleamed watching as your thighs clenched together beneath you, wiggling to try and give yourself any kind of friction as your slick coated the inside of your legs. He ran his hand across your cheek, cradling the back of your head as he ran his fingers through your messy hair, grabbing a fist full near the base of your neck to yank your gaze up at him.

"Could have cum by now if weren't gonna be sucha brat, baby girl. I know you want me to fuck you so bad. You wish that I was stuffed so fucking deep inside you, huh? But you're so fucking greedy for my cock, you'll take it wherever I give it to you, won't you?" Javi huffed, nostrils flaring as you nodded your head, his tip still resting on your tongue before your lips wrapped around the head of his shaft, taking him into your mouth as your tongue ran along the length of the thick vein pulsing in his cock.

With a subtle shift of his hips, Javi was thrusting himself deeper inside your throat, making you hollow your cheeks and breath through your nose, the curls at his base filling your nostrils with his sweet and musky scent.

“So greedy, you'll let me fuck this pretty little mouth of yours, won't you?” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching you fill with his length, "You're gonna be a good girl and let me stuff your throat so full of my cock that it'll fuck that bratty mouth right out of you, won't it, hermosa?"

His other hand met his first, cupping the back of your head while he fucked into you, hitting the back of your throat as tears welled in your eyes and drool pooled from your lips as his cock consumed your mouth. You nodded your head, looking up at him with teeth gritted and eyes darkened, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull, so demanding yet desperate at the same time.

"And after I fuck your mouth, I'm gonna fuck the brat out of you with my tongue," he paused, drawing back to slam his dick to the back of your throat, "I'm gonna fuck you with my cock," He paused again, repeating the motion, wetness dripping down your eyes and mouth from your tears and saliva, "I'm gonna fuck you 'till you're begging me to stop, because who does this pussy belong to, baby?"

Jerking back his hips, he freed his cock from your mouth, leaving you coughing as you tried to clear your throat, completed wrecked in the best way, the thick and musky tang of him still lingering on your tongue.

"It's yours, Javi. My pussy is yours, baby." You whimpered, your mask of cocky confidence now fading to reveal rampant your need and want, your pussy too painfully aching to hide it any longer.

Javi grunted, lifting you off the ground to guide you to your bed, letting your back bounce against the mattress as Javi once again settled between your thighs, slinging your legs over his broad shoulders.

You looked down to see his eyes widen as he admired the absolute wreck that had pooled between your legs, slick smearing your cunt and the inside of your thighs, pussy so swollen and shiny that you were convinced you had never been this worked up in your life without any sort of relief.

"Say it again, baby. Whose pussy is this?" Javi mewled, licking a long, flat stroke across your cunt.

"Y-yours, Javi." You moaned, bucking your hips into Javi's face, desperate for more.

"Louder, cariño. Let me hear who this pussy belongs to." The movement of his tongue repeated, this time added a few more broad strips, draping his hand across your stomach to hold you in place.

"Y-you! Oh fuck- It belongs to you, Javi! " You cried out, writhing under his touch, egging on the primal and possessive part of his brain.

"Do think you finally deserve to cum, hermosa? Poor pussy made such a fucking mess, I can feel her throbbing for me, baby." Javi taunted mockingly between licks of your cunt. "Beg for it, Osita. Beg for it like the filthy girl I know you are only for me."

There was no use in fighting it anymore, every shred of fight you had left in you had disappeared, leaving you a sobbing, whimpering mess, so dire to cum, you would have cried and plead for hours on end if that's what it would have taken for you to finally get what you wanted.

"P-please, Javi, please. Please, baby, I'll be good. Fuck- please make cum. Pleasepleasepleaseplease- Fuck!"

Your sobs were cut off as Javi dove between your legs, the slow and monotonous licks of your pussy now turning into him devouring you, sloppily eating you out like it was his last meal on earth, and he wasn't leaving a fucking crumb behind.

The way his mouth sucked and lapped at your clit had the coil in your spine that had been tightening over and over again for what felt like hours now reaching a near breaking point. Your wrists were straining against the handcuffs still clasped below your hands, writhing and thrashing under Javi's touch, wishing that you had something to grab onto to ground yourself.

"Fuck, Javi, Fuck- don't stop baby, please- ohmygod- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-ahhhhhh!"

Your pent up orgasm crashed through you like a tsunami, every inch of your body radiating with such intense pleasure that you could feel your legs shaking around Javi's head, sobbing out with relief while you gushed arousal into his mouth, going limp with ecstasy.

But to your surprise, the sensation between your legs continued, Javi still relentlessly drinking you up, his pace unfaltering as he worked you through your high, clearly determined to make you cum again.

Latching his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, Javi sucked at your clit with a feverish intensity, fingertips gripping into your hips to keep you in place and hold you against the bed, keeping you right where he wanted you until he had you crumbling under his touch.

It wasn't long before the tingle at the base of your spine was building rapidly again, your pussy fluttering and throbbing, so sensitive from how long you had waited for release of your last orgasm that you could feel your second building just as fast as your first.

"I'm gonna- fuck- Javi, I'm gonna cum again, oh my- fuck- fuckfuckfuck!" You sobbed, limbs feeling like Jello as your next high hit you, eyes rolling to the back of your head, cumming so hard you were convinced you were seeing stars.

With your eyes scrunched shut, you hadn't seen Javi pulling away, shedding his shirt before grabbing your hips to flip you over, maneuvering you so your locked arms were outstretched in front of you and your chest pressed to the mattress, the firm grip returning to your hips to raise your ass in the air, wet and puffy pussy on display for him as he hovered at the edge of the bed behind you.

"Pussy's so fucking sweet, hermosa." Javi hummed, swiping two fingers through your folds and collecting your slick from your still trembling cunt, caging his body over yours as his other hand wrapped around your neck and jaw, pulling you up to flush your back against his chest, tacky with his sweat.

"Taste." He ordered, bringing the two shiny fingers to your lips, dipping them into your mouth while your tongue swirled around, tangy and sticky arousal filling your senses. "Think she's ready for me, baby? Or should I fuck you with my fingers until you're begging for my cock?"

"N-no, I want it, p-please, wanna cum around your cock so bad. Wanna feel you Javi, please." You whimpered, swallowing hard with Javi's palm still gently splayed around your throat.

"Okay," Javi paused, reaching down to grab the base of his shaft, coating his length with your arousal as he ran it up and down your slit until the blunt head of his tip was notching into your entrance, "but this greedy little cunt is gonna take everything I have to give her, understand?"

"Mhmmhmmm-" You nodded against his skin, whining as he sunk the rest of his length inside you, the sweet sting of his stretch setting you ablaze.

"Fuckkkk-" Javi muttered under his breath, pressing his body weight into you to force your chest back down to he bed and ass back up, running his hands over it, massaging the plump flesh before bringing a flat hand down to it, smacking it just hard enough to make you whimper.

"Dirty fucking girl. You loved getting fucked like this, don't you? Getting fucked like the pretty little slut you are just for me." Javi huffed through gritted teeth, giving your ass another smack as he dragged his cock out of your cunt before ramming it back into you.

"Mhmmmmmmhhhh- fuck- Just for- oh fuck- just for you, Javi."

He began to set a punishing pace, pounding into your g-spot, making sure that every thrust was flushed with your ass so that you took every inch of him inside you, practically punching the air out of your lungs with every stroke.

Javi felt so full inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was all consuming, the position he had you in opening you up to take as much as he could give. Your fingers tugged at the sheets, handcuffs rubbing against your wrists as you tried to brace yourself, so worked up and overwhelmed that you were nearly drooling onto the bed.

The noises coating the walls of your bedroom were unspeakably lewd- the wet squelching of your pussy, Javi's balls slapping against your ass, the wanton moans and grunts with every push and pull making your room sound borderline pornographic.

You could feel your cunt beginning to clench again, fluttering around Javi's cock as he rammed into you, your legs beginning to tremble as you could sense your third orgasm creeping through your body. With how sensitive you were, you knew the wiry hairs around the base of Javi's shaft rubbing your clit would be enough to push you over the edge again, wishing you could reach back to grab Javi's hip, digging your fingertips into his tanned and sweat-ridden skin while you came.

"Javiiiiiiii- Fuck, fuck, fuck- I'm so c-close- Don't stop, don't stop, don't, Fuck!"

With each orgasm that crashed through you, your body became more and more loose, feeling like you were melting and floating all at once, all consumed by your dizzying high while Javi's pace remained steady, fucking you through collapse.

"That's my girl. Cum all over me. Let me feel you, baby." Javi smirked, giving your ass another smack as you cried out his name, too wrecked to let any other words form in your brain besides his.

Still staying stuffed inside you, Javi was scooping his arms around your front, one splayed across your middle to keep you upright as your sat back on your knees, the other back around your neck and jaw, tilting your head to lean back on his shoulder while he sucked at your pulse point.

You were all but sobbing at this point, pathetic whimpers and moans rumbling from your chest with each deep thrust of Javi's cock only intensifying as his fingers reached down to circle your clit, so sensitive that just the presence of his hand pressing around your nerve bundle had you crying out for him.

Your face was flushed with heat, sweat beading down your temples with the warmth of Javi's chest pressed against your back, feeling your heartbeat pound so loud you could feel it in your ears.

"It's too much- fuckfuckfuck- it's too much, Javi." You whined, the pitch of your voice registering higher and higher with each word that came spilling from your mouth, starting to squirm in his grasp. Your movement only made him tighten his grip, forearm pressing into your stomach and fingers locking around your jaw as he whispered in your ear.

"Nuh uh. This is what you wanted, remember, baby?" Javi tutted, somehow feeling like he was fucking into you even deeper than before, "You're gonna take what I give you. You're gonna cum for me one more time. Cum for me one more time and then I'm gonna fill you so fucking full of me that I'm gonna leak out of you for days and make sure you remember exactly who this pussy belongs to."

The pads of his fingers pressed more firmly into your clit as they circled faster and faster, each snap of his hips crashing into your g-spot, the volume of your cries growing so loud, you had never been more thankful you didn't have any neighbors close by you were worried about hearing you.

"You're taking me so well, baby. C'mon, just one more, Hermosa. Be a good girl and give me one more. I know you can take it. Take it, take it, take it-" He groaned, chanting with each thrust with a low rumble in his throat, bearing his gritted teeth and flared nostrils as he fucked into you, knowing with the way your pussy was gripping him like a vice, you didn't need much more to get where he wanted you to go.

"Javi, Javi, Javi, Javijavijavijaviiiiii-ahhhhhh! Fuck!"

You were convinced that if Javi hadn't been holding you down, you would have floated away, cumming so hard that your vision went white, everything around you feeling like it was moving in slow motion as pleasure swept through every inch of your body, slumping into Javi, now finally chasing his own high.

"Did so good for me, baby. So fucking good." Javi praised, voice sweetening softly as he held you pressed to his chest, kissing and nipping at the damp skin on your shoulder. "Gonna fuck you so full of my cum. Bet you wish I could still knock you up, huh? Let everyone know who you belong to. Let them know that this perfect little pussy is all mine. I'm- oh fuck- I'm so fucking close. Feels so fucking good. Mierda- I love you so muc-ahhhhhhh-"

Javi's incoherent babbles were cut off by a final stutter of his hips, balls drawing up into his stomach as he spilled deep inside of you, warm ropes of his cum painting your velvety walls.

Still keeping himself stuffed inside you, you could feel the mix of your spend seeping out your spent hole and down your thighs, the dripping only exacerbated by the heavy heaving and panting of both of your chests, rising and falling in sync, so blissfully fucked out from your highs.

After a few seconds, Javi came to, pulling out of you with a hiss, reaching over the side of the bed to shuffle through his pants pockets, digging up the keys to the handcuffs and unlocking your wrists, gently kissing them where the metal had left red marks on your skin.

"Lay down, baby girl, lemme take care of you, okay?" Javi cooed, the flip of his demeanor instantly switching back to tender and soft, pressing a kiss into your messy hair as he shuffled to your ensuite, coming back with a warm washcloth to gently wipe up the mess between your legs.

"You've taken care of me plenty, Javier Peña. I don't think I'm gonna be able to walk for the next week." You giggled softy, still giving your heart rate a chance to come down to normal.

Javi tossed the washcloth into the hamper next to your bed, crawling next to you and pulling you close to lay your head on his chest, tracing dainty circles with his thumb across your skin. "Are you okay? It wasn't too much? Sorry if I got carried away or-"

"Javi! Baby, why are you apologizing?" You asked, looking up at Javi as you felt his shoulders shrug beneath you.

"I just- I don't ever wanna hurt you, Hermosa.

"If you're trying to get me to stroke your ego and tell you that you have a huge dick, then yes, you do." You teased, the two of you softly snorting while Javi rolled his eyes at you.

"Shut up, you know what I mean." Javi huffed, giving you a playful nudge.

"You take such good care of me, Jav. I know you would never mean to hurt me. Besides, I asked and you delivered. This was hot as fuck. This honestly may be a top 5 of all time." You smirked, nudging him right back.

"Yeah? God, you're so fucking sexy. We still got it after all these years, huh?" Javi smiled, pulling you closer to his chest, tickling you with kisses across your face.

"Yeah we do. Although maybe next time we get some more comfortable handcuffs. Those things do not feel good."

"Honey, they're meant to be used on actual criminals breaking the law. They're not supposed to be comfortable." Javi teased, laughing at your suggestion.

The two of you lay in silence for a moment, a peaceful and content quiet washing over you, basking in the warmth each other's bodies tangled together in a mess between your sheets.

"Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what, Osita?"

"I don't know- having a more exciting job, getting to handcuff actual criminals, not just your wife. I just- I know that you always say how different and boring your job is now, and if you ever wanted to go back to doing something like what you used to then-" Before you could finish your thought, Javi was cutting you off with a passionate kiss, gently cradling your cheek in his palm, looking at you with those sweet brown eyes you loved so much.

"I don't ever miss it. My boring office job gave me a life where I have the most beautiful, amazing wife and daughters. There's nothing in the world that would ever make me even have a chance of giving that up. Besides..." Javi paused, sneaky smirk spread across his face.

"Besides what, Jav?"

"Using the handcuffs on you is way more fun."

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[brunchable]

Moving In [18+]

《Beefy!Bucky Barnes x f!reader》

Pairings: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader. Summary: You're moving into your brand new apartment with Bucky. Themes/Warning: FLUFF and then SMUT. Dirty Talk, Oral Sex in shower [M receiving], Breath play, Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, unprotected sex, a bit of Cumplay, pet names [baby, angel], Bucky talking Russian, Bucky watching you undress, Bucky washing your body. A/N: Enjoy. Also I only use goodle translate for the Russian translations so it might not be accurate okay?

Tags: @hzdhrtss @classicrebound @winterslove1917

You’re standing outside your new apartment, staring at the couch wedged halfway through the doorframe. Bucky is on the other side, trying not to scowl too hard, but it’s obvious he’s moments away from snapping.

“Remind me again… why this couch?” he grumbles, giving the couch another push, his biceps straining against his shirt. You can’t help but admire how ridiculous he looks—like an action hero struggling against a villain that won’t budge.

“It’s cute!” you call from the doorway, trying to sound casual.

“It’s a tank,” he mutters, adjusting his grip. “It’s like you went into the store and said, ‘Show me the one that can take out a wall.’”

You stifle a giggle and shrug. “Hey, it’s got character. You love character, right?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at you, glancing between the couch and you. “Character? Babe, this couch has more attitude than I do.”

You smirk and cross your arms. “Mmm I think it’s 50/50.”

He doesn’t even dignify that with a response, pushing the couch again with a grunt. After what feels like an eternity, he manages to wedge it through the door and into the living room. He flops onto it, completely spent, his chest heaving.

“I swear,” he pants, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, “if we ever move again, I’m burning this thing.”

“Oh, relax,” you say, walking over to flop down next to him, throwing your legs across his lap. “You’re just cranky because the couch won.”

He gives you an incredulous look. “Cranky? Me?” Then, with an exaggerated groan, he places a hand on his chest. “Oh no, not at all. I love breaking my back for this thing. Love it.”

You poke his ribs, and he twitches. “Don’t be dramatic. I thought you were tough.”

“I am,” he says, sitting up with a mock glare. “But that couch is no joke.”

You snicker, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Well, now that the couch is in, we can start painting!”

Bucky’s expression drops like a rock. 

“Painting?” He points to the walls like they personally offended him. “What’s wrong with these walls?”

“They’re beige, Bucky. Beige. Who chooses beige?” You hop up, grabbing the paint roller with a bright smile. “Come on! I picked a beautiful sky blue for the feature wall.”

“I miss the couch already,” Bucky grumbles but stands up to help.

Soon enough, you’re both in old clothes, standing in the middle of the room with paint trays and rollers. Bucky, as expected, is focused, serious, and meticulous, carefully applying each stroke to the wall like it’s a mission briefing.

Meanwhile, you’re rolling the paint on a little haphazardly, watching him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh. He’s so serious—too serious for something like this.

“Bucky,” you call out sweetly, taking a step toward him.

“Hm?” he grunts, still focused.

“Hold still.”

Before he can react, you swipe your paintbrush across his nose, leaving a perfect streak of blue on his face.

He blinks, stunned for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Then he narrows his eyes at you, his voice dangerously calm. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did,” you say with a grin, taking a step back.

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a second, but the look on his face tells you everything—you’ve started something. Suddenly, he grabs his roller, slowly dipping it into the paint tray, his gaze locked onto you.

“Bucky—” you start, backing up.

“I’m warning you,” he says, lifting the roller like a weapon. “You’re not walking out of here clean.”

You squeal, trying to dodge as he lunges at you, but he’s faster—much faster. With one swift move, he swipes the roller across your arm, leaving a giant blue streak on your sleeve. You burst out laughing, and before you know it, both of you are chasing each other around the room, paint flying everywhere.

“Truce!” you yell, holding your hands up, but Bucky only smirks.

“No way,” he says, catching you around the waist and pulling you close. “You started this.”

Before you can protest, he swipes his finger across your cheek, leaving another streak of blue paint. You gasp and laugh, wriggling out of his grasp, but not before leaving a handprint on his shirt.

“You’re ruthless,” you say between giggles, wiping paint off your face.

“Says the woman who wiped paint on my nose,” he fires back, but he’s grinning now, looking much more relaxed than before.

Finally, you both collapse onto the plastic covered couch, your clothes and skin now covered in paint smudges, breathing heavily. Bucky rests his head on the back of the couch, glancing over at you with a soft smile. His nose is still blue, and he hasn’t even bothered to wipe it off.

“I can’t believe you picked a fight with me,” he says, his tone playful.

“I didn’t pick a fight,” you say, smiling. “I picked a paint war.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You lean over, kissing his cheek. “Yeah, I am.”

And there you are, sitting together on your way-too-large couch, paint everywhere, and Bucky with a sky-blue nose, looking happier than you’ve seen him in a while.

× × × ×

After what feels like hours of cleaning up paint splatters and arranging your oversized couch (which Bucky still glares at from time to time), you both flop back onto it, utterly spent. The place looks halfway decent now—painted walls, the couch finally in its rightful place—and both of you are starving.

You sit cross-legged on the couch, with takeout boxes from your favorite Chinese restaurant spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Bucky’s already digging into his lo mein like it’s the best meal of his life. You, however, are eyeing your sweet and sour pork, but your gaze keeps flicking over to Bucky’s food.

He catches your glances and raises an eyebrow, fork halfway to his mouth. 

“What?”

You quickly look back at your own box. “Nothing.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously and takes another bite. You make a show of enjoying your food, but out of the corner of your eye, you keep stealing glances at his lo mein.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Bucky asks, pausing mid-bite. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?” you ask innocently, poking your sweet and sour pork with your chopsticks.

“That thing where you pretend you don’t want my food but keep staring at it like it’s the last meal on Earth.”

You bite your lip, stifling a smile, and look at your chicken again. “I’m not staring. I’m just… admiring.”

“Admiring?” Bucky’s voice is filled with playful disbelief. “You hate lo mein.”

“I do not!” you protest, but your eyes flick back to his box of food.

Bucky leans back on the couch, a smirk forming on his lips as he watches you. “Uh-huh. So, you don’t want to swap?”

You freeze, pretending to look offended. “Why would I want to swap? I love sweet and sour pork. It’s… my favorite.”

“Uh-huh,” he repeats, his smirk growing as he scoops another big bite of lo mein into his mouth. “Because it really looks like you’re enjoying that pork.”

You poke the pork again, this time with a little less enthusiasm. You’ve had sweet and sour pork a million times. Meanwhile, Bucky’s lo mein looks warm and savory, and you swear he’s eating it like it’s better than yours on purpose.

“Okay, fine!” you finally admit, throwing your hands up. “I want your lo mein. Happy?”

Bucky laughs, his deep voice filling the room. “I knew it! Why don’t you just order what I order?”

“Because I like variety,” you say, crossing your arms. “But your food always looks better than mine.”

He snorts, shaking his head, before pushing his lo mein box toward you. “Go ahead, have at it. I knew this was coming.”

You take the box without hesitation, immediately diving into it like you’ve been waiting for this moment your whole life. 

“Thank you.”

Bucky watches you with a smile, then reaches for your untouched sweet and sour pork. 

“Fine. I’ll take this. Not that you ever really wanted it.”

You both eat for a few minutes, but Bucky’s watching you again, this time with a curious expression.

“What now?” you ask, pausing mid-bite.

“I just don’t get it,” Bucky says, waving his fork around. “You always do this. You order something different, then you want what I have.”

You shrug, swallowing a mouthful of noodles. “It’s a girlfriend thing. We like to try your food.”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t try it—you take it.”

“I can’t help it!” you laugh. “You always pick the better food.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Next time, just tell me what you want. I’ll order two of it.”

You smile sweetly at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Bucky groans but doesn’t stop eating. After a few more bites, though, you notice him eyeing his old box—the one now sitting in your lap.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, a grin spreading across your face.

“Nothing,” he grumbles, glancing between his pirk and the lo mein you’ve commandeered. “Just… thinking maybe I miss my lo mein.”

You smirk and nudge the box toward him. “Wanna swap back?”

“Maybe,” he mutters, but you can tell he’s holding back a smile.

Without another word, you swap your food again, and Bucky’s face immediately brightens as he digs back into his lo mein. You laugh, shaking your head, realizing this is going to be a never-ending cycle of food-stealing whenever you two order takeout.

As you both settle in, Bucky looks over at you, this time with a soft smile, no teasing, no complaints. 

“You know,” he says, his voice a little quieter, “this whole moving in thing… not so bad.”

You smile back, your heart warming at his words. “Not so bad,” you agree, leaning into his side.

And as the two of you sit there, eating takeout on your too-big couch in your freshly painted apartment, you realize there’s no one else you’d rather steal food from for the rest of your life.

The apartment is finally feeling like home, and the evening sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Bucky’s arm is draped casually around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.

You’ve got your phone in your hand, lazily scrolling through TikTok while Bucky relaxes next to you. Every so often, you let out a soft chuckle or grin at a funny video, completely absorbed in your scrolling.

Bucky isn’t saying much, just watching you quietly with that soft, fond expression he always gets when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. He likes these moments—when you’re just being yourself, not thinking too hard about anything. It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

Suddenly, you laugh out loud, covering your mouth as a TikTok meme plays on your screen. 

“Oh my god,” you snicker, turning to Bucky with a mischievous smile. “This is literally you.”

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “What? What is?”

You bite back another laugh and replay the TikTok, showing him the video. The meme says: "My boyfriend every time any part of my body touches him" followed by the guy on the video saying, "I may or may not have a boner right now."

Bucky stares at the screen for a moment, then glances back at you, his expression deadpan. 

“Really?”

You burst out laughing, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! This is so you!”

Bucky groans, rubbing his hand over his face, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s not me.”

“Yes you are!” you tease, poking him in the side. “You’re exactly like that. Every time.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Not every time.”

You give him a look, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Bucky smirks, leaning in a little closer. “Okay, fine. Maybe every time. But it’s not my fault. You’re… hot.”

You laugh again, nudging him playfully. “Uh-huh, sure.”

He catches your hand, pulling you closer, his smirk turning into a full grin. “What do you expect? You’re walking around here, looking all cute and stealing my food. What am I supposed to do?”

You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile. “Blame me for everything.”

He shrugs, still grinning. “I’m just saying, it’s a natural reaction.”

You shake your head, trying to keep a straight face, but you can’t help it. You burst into laughter again, leaning into him as you laugh. Bucky watches you, his expression softening, his hand moving to rest on your thigh as he pulls you even closer.

“See?” you say, still laughing, pointing at him. “Exactly like the TikTok!”

Bucky rolls his eyes dramatically but doesn’t bother denying it. “Fine, fine. You got me.”

You grin triumphantly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you settle back into his side. “I knew it.”

For a moment, neither of you says anything, just enjoying the comfortable silence. Then, with a small laugh, Bucky leans down, his voice low and teasing in your ear. “For the record… I may or may not have a boner right now.”

You gasp, swatting his chest. “Bucky!”

He laughs, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you, his grin wide and completely unrepentant. 

“Hey, you started it!”

You groan, shaking your head as you push yourself out of his lap, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“I don’t know… I think I’m going to have a shower,” you say, standing up and stretching.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Oh, yeah?”

You give him a playful smirk. “Yeah. Alone.”

His face twists into a dramatic pout.

“Alone? C’mon, we should save on the water bill. Be responsible adults,” he says with a mock-serious tone, raising his eyebrows like it’s a valid point. He grins, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms. “Just looking out for our finances.”

“Right. Well, I think we’ll survive a little higher water bill,” you tease as you make your way toward the bathroom.

He sighs dramatically. “Guess I’ll just sit here being financially responsible all by myself.”

You pause in the doorway, throwing a look over your shoulder. “Good luck with that.”

Bucky smirks, not giving up. “Last chance. Think of the planet.”

You roll your eyes but chuckle, finally giving in. “Alright, fine! Hurry up!”

Bucky’s face lights up, and he pumps his fist in victory. 

“Yes!” He jumps off the couch, pulling his shirt over his head from behind in one smooth motion, already halfway undressed as he strides toward you with a triumphant grin.

Your eyes instinctively drift down his body as he walks toward you, taking in the way his muscles shift with every step, his abs defined and his chest broad. He tosses his shirt aside, and you can’t help but admire the view, your cheeks heating slightly as you watch him.

When he reaches you, Bucky’s hands move swiftly to his belt and the buttons on his jeans, undoing them with ease. His fingers are quick and sure, and he glances up at you, clearly amused by your reaction. He knows exactly what he’s doing as he works to undress, his grin widening when he sees you watching.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool despite the way your gaze lingers a little longer than intended.

“Responsible,” he corrects with a wink, kicking off his shoes. “Environmentally conscious. And now, efficient.”

You snicker, stepping aside to let him through. “Alright, Mr. Efficient, you’re on a time limit.”

Bucky grins, already slipping into the bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’m a super soldier. Fast is kind of my thing.”

As you stood shut the door behind you, you suddenly felt a sharp smack on your ass. You gasped, turning around to find Bucky grinning behind you.

“Oh my god, Bucky!” you exclaimed, but he was already past you, reaching in to turn the shower on like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He glanced back, his eyes filled with playful mischief. “What?” he asked innocently. “You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. “Can you not watch me?”

Bucky leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms, his eyes fixed on you with a smirk that made your stomach flip. Slowly, he licked his bottom lip, his gaze drifting over your body like he was committing every inch of you to memory.

“Why not? I’ve seen this a million times,” he teased, his voice low and teasing. “Besides, I like watching you take everything off.”

His eyes lingered on the curve of your waist, traveling up to your bare shoulders, then back down again, soaking in every detail. The way his lips tugged into a smile when you caught him staring sent heat flooding through you.

Your cheeks flushed, but you tried to act unbothered, peeling off your clothes while fully aware of his intense gaze following your every move. You could feel the way his eyes moved over your skin, taking in the sight of your legs, the dip of your back, and the way you tried to casually brush off his attention.

Finally, the water was hot enough, steam swirling around the bathroom. As you reached for the shower door, Bucky’s hand shot out, tugging you toward him and into the shower, his grip firm but gentle.

“Bucky!” you yelped as the warm water cascaded over both of you. His arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you against his chest, the heat of his body almost matching the warmth of the water.

He kissed the back of your neck, his voice a low, amused rumble in your ear. “Told you. Saving water.”

Taking the soap, he worked up a lather in his hands and pulled your back against his chest. He soaped your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples. You wound your arms around his head, giving you your weight and full access to your luscious body.

Bucky reached for your clit, stroking and circling with two fingertips, loving the way you responded to him. Never had a lover been so in tune with what he needed, your cravings a perfect match to his own. He felt like a god every time you gave in. Soon you were panting, your ass rocking against the semi-erect cock between his legs.

Bucky maneuvered you into the spray, letting the warm water cascade down your skin, droplets running down your shoulders and back as you settled into the heat. He stayed close behind you, soaping his own body while you soaked beneath the shower.

Your gaze flickered, darting between his legs as he washed his cock and balls, the sight almost too tempting. Without thinking, you started to reach for him, fingers trailing toward his groin.

“Later,” Bucky rasped, his voice thick with desire. He caught your wrist gently, his lips brushing your ear as he added, "In fact, I planned on fucking you all night." 

You shivered at his words, heat pooling low in your stomach as his breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck. 

"You're not actually worried about the water bill, are you?" you teased, glancing back at him with a smirk, trying to break the tension, though your pulse was racing.

Turning away, you began to wash your hair, lathering the shampoo into your scalp. But before you could finish, Bucky's hands reached for yours, gently moving them aside. 

"Let me," he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair as he started massaging your scalp with the perfect amount of pressure, and you moaned. Bucky chuckled softly, the sound went straight to his dick.

"Sovsem ni kapli," he said, his voice rumbling low. 

"What?" you chuckled, realising he'd spoken Russian on purpose, knowing it turns you on. "You're doing that thing where you talk in Russian.”

He grinned, his lips ghosting over your ear. "Not even a little."

You tilted your head back slightly, feeling his fingers still working through your hair. "Are you teaching me Russian?"

“Maybe," he said, a playful edge to his voice, “Ya lyublyu tebya” I love you.

“Ya lyublyu tebya,” you repeated in an accent far more non-russian accent than Russian.

“You’ll learn. You will be ready to tell me to fuck you in Russian very soon.” 

“Teach me how to say that,” you said as you moved under the spray to rinse your hair.

“Pozhaluysta, trakhnya menya. Ya tvoya malen'kaya shlyushka.”

“You said more than just ‘fuck me.’” 

He grabbed your waist and pulled your wet body flush to his. Bucky said, ‘Please fuck me. I am your little slut.’” 

“Oh, my God—you nasty.” You fingers threaded through his hair, your eyelids hooded. “Why is that so hot?” 

“Because you like it dirty, just like I do.” Bucky pushed you against the tile and ate at your mouth, devouring you as he thrust his tongue inside. You kissed him back, meeting him eagerly, and his balls were heavy again with the need to have you.

Bucky reluctantly tore his mouth off of yours and said, “You know what I want.” 

You wasted no time in dropping to your knees on the slick tile. He didn’t move, so you shuffled forward until the tip of his erection was within reach. You opened your mouth and sucked on the head, using your tongue on the underside. 

“Argh—that’s my girl,” His palm swept over your wet hair.

You pushed your face toward his pelvis, taking more of him. He filled your mouth, so thick and smooth, and you could taste the precum leaking from the tip. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation, loving the power this gave you over his pleasure.

He rocked his hips, fucking your mouth, and you took it eagerly, relaxing your throat to keep from gagging. You made sure your lips stayed tight on his shaft, and you fluttered your tongue until he grunted. 

“Eyes up here.”

You looked up at his face, which was taut with lust, his pupils wide. Bucky began muttering something under his breath, which was something he does to keep himself going for longer. 

By the time he finished, you were panting, more turned on than you could stand. You started to reach between youe legs, ready to make yourself come, but his fingers twisted in your hair. 

“Not yet. Put your hands behind your back.” 

You obeyed and his nostrils flared at your compliance. “Who do you belong to, baby?”

You knew he wanted an answer, so you started to release him. He shook his head and held you in place. “No, don’t pull off. With your mouth full of my dick, tell me who you belong to.” 

Holding his gaze, you gave a garbled answer around the rigid flesh. “Mmmu.” 

Satisfaction twisted his expression and he pushed deep, making you gag. “That’s right. What a good girl you are. I think I’ll reward you.” 

You groaned low in yourthroat, and the vibrations made him shudder and his eyes rolled, breaking your eye contact. You moaned again, this time intentionally and watched his rapturous expression, revelling in the sudden power. The more he growled and the harder he gripped your hair the more voraciously you tried to devour him with your tongue.

Bucky pumped his hips against your mouth and the only thing keeping you steady was his grip on your head as you felt him stiffen even more against your tongue, your mouth followed, moving wetly back up the shaft. You let out more moans before he gasped and cried out thickly. You felt a pressure in your mouth and it was suddenly filled. You nearly gagged and had to swallow several times to keep from choking, finally pulling away with a gasp to see the remainder still leaking from the tip. You blinked up at him taking heavy breaths.

Turning off the water, he stepped back and his cock fell out of your mouth. He raised a hand to brush the hair from your face and cupped your cheek in one hand. His hand almost practically engulfed you but was extremely gentle, almost tender.

“Up.”

After you rose, he pointed behind you. “Go to the bed. Lay down, arms above your head and legs spread.” 

You didn’t bother towelling off as you left the bathroom. Instead, you stretched out on the cool sheets, the water drying on your skin and making you shiver. Your clit was swollen and begging for attention.

Bucky strode into the bedroom, his glorious cock bobbing with every step. He was going to shove that monster inside your pussy and you couldn’t fucking wait. 

Putting one knee on the bed, he reached between your legs. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Did my Russian turn you on?” 

He shoved two fingers inside you and you gasped, you upper half bowing. “God, yes!” 

“Is this pussy empty? Do you need me to fill it?” He pumped his hand, giving you a taste of the friction you craved. “Beg me. ‘Trakhni menya zhestko, soldat.’”

You dug your fingernails into the headboard. “Trakhni menya zhestko, James!”

“Fuck,” he ground out. “I want to edge you for hours, but I can’t—let’s just go for round two.” In a flash he was on his knees between your thighs, lining up at your entrance and pushing in. The pressure was a lot to take. 

You weren’t sure you were one hundred percent ready. “Oh, shit.” 

“Shh,” he said, smoothing his palms down your legs. “You can take me, baby, you always do.” 

He watched as his cock spread your pussy open, his hips moving slowly, like he wanted you to feel every centimeter. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. “So good, Bucky. You’re killing me.”

He dragged a hand up your hip, along your ribs and over a breast, until he reached your throat. 

“No, I’m not killing you . . . but I easily could?” Bucky jokes, his fingers covered your neck and squeezed, not enough to cut off your air but enough to cause your eyes to pop open. He was smirking down at you. 

“You’re alive at my mercy, angel.” As if on cue, a flood of moisture coated his cock just then and he tunneled farther inside, now in almost all the way. He squeezed your throat a little harder. “You like that, don’t you? When I play with you like this.”

Your lips parted with the force of your breaths, your pulse throbbing beneath his hand. He slid in as deep as he could go, his cock fully seated and taking up all the room inside you. You wriggled your hips, trying to urge him on. You needed to come so badly. 

“Please, baby, you have to move.”

Instead, he held still and stared at you. “I am going to choke you while I fuck you.” 

Panic filled your chest. You weren’t ready for those kinds of games. That was next level shit. “No, wait. Don’t hurt me—take it easy.”

“Angel,” he crooned, “Of course, I will not hurt you. Ya tebe obeshchayu.” I promise you.

He gave a gentle thrust of his hips. “I am going to squeeze the sides of your throat. It will make you lightheaded and your orgasm will be a thousand times more intense.”

You knew many people were into breath play and strangulation, but it seemed dangerous to you. 

You swallowed. “O-okay? I trust you.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to do this correctly. You will love it.” He stared at his hand on your throat, then withdrew and rammed into your pussy, and the friction sent shockwaves through your limbs. He growled deep in his throat.

“Baby, shouldn’t we have a safe word? Or . . . .” your words died when he gave a rough thrust, rocking you body, and you cried out. “Oh, yes! More of that.”

“Nah. No need for a safe word. The fear and danger will make it more exciting for you.” Bucky winked, pulling almost all the way out then ramming back inside you.

“Fu—ck. It’ll just make it more exciting for you.”

Bucky only chuckled and he began stroking in and out, his hand resting on your throat. He wasn’t applying any real pressure, just building the tension, making you wonder when he would start, and for some reason the uncertainty made it hotter. Sweat broke out on your forehead, your body already primed to come, so you rocked your hips, trying to hit the right spot to send you over the edge.

“Look at me,” he ordered. 

You cracked your eyelids and read the intent in his gaze. Fuck, was I ready? I really liked the feel of his hand on my throat.

You nodded. 

As he started thrusting back into his rhythm, he squeezed the sides of your throat, pressing. You never looked away from him, unsure what you were feeling as the blood flow into your head slowed. He watched your face. 

“There you go, Angel. It feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

The fear and excitement sent you spiraling. “Oh, God,” you said, now lightheaded.

He rode you hard, rocking the headboard into the wall, and you inner muscles tightened around his dick. 

He growled. “I can feel you. Fuck!”

He released your neck, and what followed was a rush you’d never experienced in all your life. Your pussy clamped down as the orgasm slammed into you. Yoir hoarse shout echoed throughout the room, and you dug your fingernails into his arms as the climax went on and on.

Buck was pressing deep inside against your cervix, this time harder, and the pressure made you cramp. One of his hands has now begun toying with your breast, creating more of those warm and blessed shivers of sensation.

“You’re so hot when you take it.” He said brushing his knuckles against the undersides of you breast. 

“Yeah? Well you better not fucking pull out.” You demanded, insensibly rocking you hips against his, and pressing your breast into his hand.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? You're just going to keep having babies over and over. Don't let any of the cum out of your pussy when I come. We need it all in there so you can do your job. That's all you need to be. Just a little baby maker for me.” He pinched one of your nipples, a little hard, but you instantly wanted him to do it again.

"Oh—fuck, yes! I’m going to keep it all in for you, baby. Now why don’t you find a more...productive use for...your dirty mouth?” You looked at him with glazed eyes, and he gave you a heart stopping look in return.

"As you wish, angel." And with that his mouth was at your devouring your mouth, your throat, and finally was at your breasts. You rewarded him with an approving squeeze at the back of his neck, and his cock as he ravaged you.

He pumped into you more aggressively now, and you ground your hips against him, each shock sliding further from more pleasure. You cried out, clutching at him and wrapping your legs tightly around him, but he continued to thrust into you with greater need, moving more and more deeply, his tongue all over your body. 

Again the pain mingled with pleasure until it all blurred into a white heat. It was as if you felt everything and nothing. You had trouble discerning where one caress began and another violent thrust ended. 

You felt him moving above you, his muscles straining beneath your hands and at your mouth as you licked and nipped at his rough skin feeling an undeniable urge to feel and taste every part of him. You felt Bucky’s moans as much as you heard them, vibrating through your body as he pressed against you, covering you and burying himself inside you. He was everywhere, and it felt as if there was nothing left of the world beyond you two straining bodies.

You felt the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening once more and you rocked your hips faster against him, grunting as your bodies slammed together. 

“Ohhh—my—god, Bucky! YES. Put that hot load in my unprotected pussy.”

Your hips meet his thrusts coming closer and closer with each jarring shock. Bucky laced his fingers through your loose hair and gripped you again, leveraging himself into you and sending a blinding heat through you making your hips jerk beneath him. 

“Oh—fuck, I’m going to put a baby inside you now. Can you feel how deep I am inside you?” Grunting from the effort, he held you down as his hips slammed into you, a man possessed, and not even ten strokes later he was coming, his back arching.

His own cry tore from his throat as you shook beneath him, and you felt yourseld suddenly filled, if that were any more possible, and was overcome by a series of wrenching spasms that made you clutch at his skin and gasp for air. You twitched delirious as the throbbing inside of you sent hot waves of pleasure and relief through your trembling body.

Bucky didn’t immediately pull out. Instead, he hung his head, closed his eyes, and stirred his hips, like he wanted to prolong your connection. You could feel his come leaking out of you, our combined juices soaking the mattress. 

You reached down as he slowly pulled out, the emptiness causing you to shiver. You reached down and tried to extract as much some as you could by scooping it out of your with two fingers, eyes locked on Bucky while you seductively lick his come off your fingers.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Finally, he rolled off you and sprawled onto the bed.

Your head rested on his arm, your cheek pressed against the hard ridge of his chest. You slid a hand along the groove, trailing it down to his stomach and pressed your hand against it, exploring the firm lines of the knotted muscles with your finger tips. 

“Are you trying to get me hard again? Because it’s working.”

[nanaslutt]

New years kisses with the JJK men (nsfw & sfw)

Incl: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Yuji, Megumi

contains: fem reader, crack, fluff, smut, semi-public sex, finger sucking, domesticness, rough sex, teasing, dirty talk

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo: SFW

The clock was ticking, only two minutes to go. It seemed everyone had found their partner or friend they were going to kiss to enter the new year together. You on the other hand? You were busying yourself getting another drink from the kitchen, which was completely vacant, save for Megumi's demon dogs chasing each other at your feet.

Even a pair of shikigami wasn't going to be alone on New Year's Eve, ugh. Of course, you had someone you wanted to kiss, but it was too unrealistic. Gojo Satoru. The two of you had gotten fairly close over the past year since you transferred from the Kyoto school to work at Jujutsu High. Clearly not as close as you thought though, as Gojo was last seen mingling with some female teacher you didnt recognize by the TV.

You turned around to peel open the fridge door to get yourself another seltzer. After digging around and finding just what you needed as the reality of another year going by with n new Year's kiss, you slammed the door shut, and almost fell straight on your ass at the piercing blue eyes that came into view.

Gojo chased your body, his hands wrapping around your waist as he caught you from falling. "Sorry~ Didn't mean to scare you," Gojo said, giggling as he watched you catch your breath, your heart still racing from the scare. He was so close, so warm. His hands were gripping you so firmly, like he didn't want you to let you go, even though you were no longer at risk for falling.

Well, honestly, It's probably a good thing he didnt let go, because the proximity of his body to yours and his delicious cologne were both making you dizzy. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "Were you hiding from me?" He whispered, a faux pout covering his features as he tipped his head at you.

A blush spread over your cheeks as you tried to avert your gaze from his intimidating one. "The ball is about to drop, what are you doing in here?" You asked, avoiding his question. You quickly tried to look around the main room through the opening to the kitchen, looking for the girl you saw Satoru with.

"Ohh, so you know the ball is about to drop and you're hiding from me on purpose, huh?" You went to speak again, but the chant of dozens of people pouting down from ten swarmed your ears, stopping your train of thought. "You were looking for me?" "Nine! Eight!" "Why would I not be looking for you? His arms tightened around your waist, pulling your chest closer to his.

You hovered your hands over the sides of his waist, fearing if you touched him he might disappear. "Five! Four!" "Gojo stop playing, you're running out of time go find your new years kiss it's-"

"Two!, One!"

His lips were on yours before you could register what was happening. Your eyes shot open for a moment in shock before you reciprocated the kiss, slotting your lips against his. Your hand instinctually found their way to his chest, pressing against his sturdy from for leverage as the two of you kissed like you were the only two people in the worlds.

Cheers and music could be heard from the main room as the ball dropped and the time finally hit 12:00, signaling the new year. Satoru finally pulled away after what felt like forever. Both of your faces blushing, your lips buzzing with the skin of where his once was. "You're so dense sometimes." He giggled, making you jerk your head back in offense, your hand lightly batting his chest.

"What?" You said, your face scrunching in annoyance. "I've been trying to hint at you that I like you this entire year." He said, his eyes going wide as he explained himself. "Well, I don't know if it counts as 'hinting' if I tell you to your face that you're my soulmate, but I don't know. Maybe that wasn't obvious enough for your dense little head." Gojo said mockingly, releasing one of his hands around your waist to poke you in the forehead, making your eyebrows scrunch together.

"How am I supposed to take you seriously when you say stuff like that all the time? You're always joking around like that!" You exclaimed, getting in his face. His soft lips against yours made your frustration go away in an instant. "Never with you," Satoru said, his voice suddenly sounding too serious to belong to him. "I've never joked like that with you." A deeper blush was spreading itself over his face as he smiled, easing the sudden tension he caused.

You brought your eyes back to his, your mouth staying together in a pout. "So did you take that kiss as a joke too?" He asked, breaking the silence, his silly demeanor taking over once more. "How.. how could I after you just confessed." You said, your hands sliding down his chest. "THAT'S what did it? Would you have thought the kiss was a joke if I didn't follow it up with my amazing, beautiful confession?" Gojo asked, getting in your face.

You scoffed out a laugh before you pushed yourself out of his grip, turning away as you started walking to the main room with a smile on your face. "Hey! Hey, I'm talking to you! Do you like me back! Are we boyfriend, girlfriend now?! I wasn't done talkingg!" Gojo asked needily, hot on your heels as he chased you into the main room to interrogate you.

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Geto: SFW

Ten years later, and the parties Gojo threw as an adult looked exactly the same. Even the people were the same. You couldn't lie that it was fairly comfortable, save for the music that was giving you a migraine, but Gojo always did like his music loud.

You and Geto had arrived together, and the two of you stayed conjoined at the hip for the entirety of the night, Gojo checked in on you occasionally as people were constantly dragging him away to converse, he was Gojo Satoru after all. Geto was the first one to get your attention after hours of catching up with everyone. His fingers tugged the bottom of your dress towards him, the feeling making you look down at his hand before your eyes found his darker ones.

He signaled to the couch with his thumb, silently asking you if you wanted to go sit down. You were thankful he said something, your feet were aching in your heels and you didn't know how much more small talk you had in you. You knew most of the people at the party, but some of your coworkers and work friends had brought their significant others--which had led to introduction after introduction, you don't think you've ever said your own name so many times in one night.

The alcohol you had been sipping on had started to make you feel dizzy too, your body feeling instant relief when your ass hit the soft cushions of the couch, your head leaning back against the large pillow behind you. You felt the cushion dip next to you when Geto joined you, his thigh pressing into yours from how close he was.

"You havin' fun?" He asked into the shell of your ear, making goosebumps cover your arms at the sound, his hot breath tickling your skin. You turned your head to face him, not realizing how close he really was. You were thankful for the color-changing LED lights in Geto's main room, or Geto might've noticed the blush on your face.

You nodded before speaking, "Yeah! I love seeing everyone loosen up in a setting like this, it's a nice change of pace from the usual seriousness of everyone's day-to-day at the school." You kept your eyes on his when you spoke, noticing how his eyes kept fluttering down to your lips, but you just brushed it off.

"Yeah? You're right, It is nice to see everyone like this." He said, his large hand coming to land on your knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin there. "You deserve it too, love seein' you so relaxed." Geto's looked so handsome like this. His hair fell freely around his face as he leaned his head back against the couch to match yours. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, giving you a delicious view of his porcelain skin that change color under the lights.

"Thank you, baby." You said, your hand tucking his long hair behind his ears. "Boo, get a room," Shoko said, the other side of the couch dipping next to you as her feet slid over your thighs. You turned your head, your hands placing themselves on her legs as she leaned back, cupping her hand over her mouth as she lit a cigarette, the orange glow illuminating her face.

"You get tired of being social?" Geto asked, grabbing her legs and throwing them off of you, her heels hitting the ground with a dull click as her body was forced to sit upright to match the two of you. "I don't like these things in the first place. I'm only here because Utahime is here." She confessed, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"So why aren't you with her now?" You asked, tipping your head at her. "Lost her in Gojo's mansion. The ball is about to drop too, guess I'll be getting my kiss late." She said, jerking her head forward to the large flat screen that displayed a twenty-second count down on the screen.

"Oh shit, didn't realize it was so close, c'mere baby," Geto said, leaning over you. Effortlessly, he picked up your body and made your thighs straddle his own, your hands wrapping around his neck instinctually. Shoko groaned from the side of you, the cushion inflating back to normal as she was gone faster than she had arrived, not wanting to see you and Geto makeout.

The sound of the countdown got louder as Gojo turned up the volume from somewhere in the room. Briefly glancing around, you saw people scramble around the large space to find their significant other--looks like everyone lost track of time. Geto's hand on your face pulled you away from the distraction of everyone's commotion and led your attention back to him. "Focus on me baby, don't wanna miss this," Geto said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Before you knew it, it was 8 seconds till midnight, and Geto was staring into your eyes like you were the only person in the room. His serious gaze made you giggle, your hands coming to cup his cheeks as his arms wrapped around your waist. You tilted your head to the side, slowly bringing your faces close together as the countdown got down to three.

"Happy New Year, baby," Geto whispered against your mouth before his lips were on yours. You hummed into the kiss, your eyes closing as you pressed your lips to his, the kiss full of love and promise to keep each other safe and loved going into the new year. He wrapped his arms around your body tightly before he stood up, spinning you around. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, your ankles locking to keep yourself tight against him.

You giggled as his spinning came to a stop, the large man leaning down to place your feet on the ground before he broke the kiss, his hands cradling your face as you smiled from ear to ear. "I'm going to marry you someday." He whispered in all seriousness, smiling at you with the most sincere look of happiness he could muster.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Toji: NSFW

"Ah-ah-ah-mmmph-" Your moans were muffled by Toji's large hand pressing over your mouth. "Shhh, gotta be fuckin' quiet pretty girl." He groaned into your ear, giving you deep but slow thrusts as he spoke. "Don't want someone catchin' us like this, right?" He asked, biting your ear lobe between his teeth, making your eyes roll back in your head.

You nodded against his hand, your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked at him through the mirror, his dark eyes raking over your body, his sharp eyes watching the way your tits bounced underneath your dress. "You not wearin' a bra?" Toji asked, the hand he was using to grip your hip sliding up to massage your tit in his hand over the material of your dress, his hips shallowly thrusting into you, his fat tip kissing your sweet spot with every thrust, making your legs shake.

You shook your head, your eyes fluttering when he found your nipple and tweaked it between his fingers, the material of the dress making the stimulation extra intense. "Naughty girl.." He whispered, keeping his eyes on yours in the mirror as he pressed his lips to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His middle finger, slid against your lips before he pressed it against them, waiting for you to open up.

"You wanted me to fuck you in here like this huh? Planned it from the start." He said with a malicious grin, watching your lips part as you took his finger in your mouth. He didnt even give you a chance to reply before he was leaning back and fucking into you--hard. The fat of your ass rippling as his hips hit your ass, his fat cock being bullied into your walls.

Your jaw was slack as Toji pressed his finger to the back of your throat, drool sliding down his hand as he fucked pathetic whimpers from your mouth, keeping his hand on your tit as he massaged it harshly in his big hand. "Shhh-shhh what did I say?" Toji asked, his eyes squinting at yours in the mirror. He watched as they tried to stay put in their sockets, the usually simple feat proving hard every time Toji fucked his girth into you.

"What did I fucking. Say." Toji repeated, emphasizing his words with a mean thrust, making your jaw drop open more in a silent moan before you gapsed sharply. Both of your smaller hands shot up to grip his thick wrist for support, his finger hooking onto your bottom row of teeth as he pulled your jaw down, trying to challenge you. "B-be quiet, you said 't be q-quiet-" You whisper moaned, your words getting louder at the end each time his hips collided with yours.

"So you can listen, good girl." Toji looked down between where the two of you were connected, his hand abandoning your tit to pull up your dress so he could watch his cock force it's way into the tight ring of your cunt, your fluids making his dick shine under the fluorescent bathroom lights every time he pulled out, making him groan.

Toji pulled his finger from your mouth, grabbing both sides of your hips in his hands as he prepared to fuck into your harder, one of your hands sliding behind you to grab his arm for leverage as the other pressed firmly over your mouth to keep yourself quiet. Just before he started being meaner than he already was, he was stopped by chanting coming from outside the room. "Ten! Nine! Eight!"

Toji's hips paused completely, giving you time to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling dramatically with each gasp. "Oh shit, it's almost new years baby." Toji said, smirking at your fucked out face through the mirror. "Toji.. Kiss.." You whispered through your gasps, looking at him desperately, your hand behind you squeezing around his wrist in urgency.

"Yeah, yeah. Cmere, crybaby." Toji teased. He pressed his chest to your back, reaching his hand around you he grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side, his other wrapping around your waist. "Three! Two! One!" The voices of the people outside the bathroom came muffled through the door as Toji smirked, pressing your lips together in a kiss full of love, contrary to his mean hips bullying you just seconds ago.

Toji slowly ground his hips against your ass, his mushroom tip rubbing against your sweet spot, making you whine into his mouth. He kissed you long and hard, his eyes cracking open to watch your face in the mirror as he kissed you. Toji smiled against your lips when he felt your cunt squeeze around him when he slipped his tongue in your mouth, tangling it with yours. He pulled back after a couple seconds of teasing, your lips being connected by a string of saliva as you breathed heavily against the others lips.

Toji looked between your fucked out expression, and your swollen lips before he leaned back in to press a quick peck against your lips, licking his own as he pulled away for good. "Happy New Year pretty girl. Let me fuck my cum into you to make sure we start this year off right, yeah?" Oh, Toji, always the romanticist.

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Nanami: NSFW

Nanami reached his hand over the table, his eyes watching the way your lips wrapped around his fork as you took all of the chocolate cake into your mouth. He pulled his fork back to get himself a bite, smiling as he watched your eyes practically roll back in your head at the rich flavor. "Kento." You groaned, covering your mouth as you spoke.

He smiled, briefly looking down to scoop a forkful of the brown cake for himself. "Is it alright, my love?" He asked, holding his fork out in front of his mouth, the sweet cocoa smell flooding his nose as he waited for you to speak. "Kento, taste that right now." You said, swallowing the desert he made from scratch.

The blonde-haired man laughed at your dramatics--or what he thought were dramatics before the cake hit his tastebuds. His eyebrows raised in surprise, his eyes finding yours as he tipped his head at you, saying nothing as he chewed the cake, but his expression said it all. "Right? Riiiight? Kento, is there anything you can't do?" You asked, shaking your head in disbelief at your husband's talent.

He giggled, lifting the napkin on his lap to clean his mouth off. "I do agree this time... I think I outdid myself." He praised his own work, making you giggle. You used the table as leverage as you lifted yourself to sit on your shins on the chair, leaning forward you opened your mouth, looking up at Nanami. "Don't keep me waiting, Ken." You said teasingly, waiting for him to cut another piece for you to eat.

Nanami smiled fondly as he lifted his fork to your lips. Just before the cake made it into your mouth, it fell off the utensil, falling onto your chest, the chocolate frosting smearing on the skin of your clavicle. "Oh shoot." You said ashamed--not that the frosting had gotten on you, but because a perfectly good piece of the cake was now ruined.

"Shit, I'm sorry honey. Stay still." Nanami said, pushing himself back from his chair to wet a towel to clean you up with. A sudden idea popped into your head, your hand shooting out to grab his wrist to stop him before he got too far. "Wait." You said, sitting back down onto your chair properly, sightly pulling Nanami's body towards you.

Nanami raised his eyebrows, confused at why you had stopped him. "I have another way you can clean me up." You said teasingly, wiggling your eyebrows at Nanami. Immediately his expression softened, a small smile taking place on his face as he strode to your side of the table, standing in front of you. Nanami could already take a guess at how you wanted him to clean you up.

"Can you get on your knees for me Ken?" You asked sweetly, playing with his fingers in your hand. "Of course, my love." He answered softly, slowly getting on one knee before he followed it with the other. He looked up at you, waiting for your further instruction. Your hands came forward to hold his chiseled face in your soft hands, Nanami's eyes fluttering at the touch.

"You have such good skin, Ken." You praised, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiled. "I have my lovely wife to thank for that." He answered. He was right though, every single night you pampered Nanami by laying him down and doing his skincare for him, it was his most treasured time with you.

"Yeah.. I guess you're right." You said, smiling. After raking your eyes over his handsome face once more, you bit your lip between your teeth, your eyes dropping to his lips. You looked down at your own chest where the frosting had fallen, Nanami's eyes following your own as he watched your movements carefully.

You retracted one of your hands from his face, gathering the frosting on the tip of your finger you brought it to his mouth, hovering it right over his lips. "Open please." You asked quietly, blushing at your own words. Nanami kept his eyes on yours as he did so, his tongue sliding out slightly to tease you.

He wrapped his lips around your finger, making your eyes flutter as you inhaled suddenly, feeling yourself start to throb between your legs. Nanami hummed around your finger, the deep sound only fueling the fire between your legs. Your eyebrows furrowed together as Nanami's tongue wrapped around the digit, licking off the rich frosting.

He pulled his head back, your finger popping out completely clean. Nanami licked his lips clean, making sure he got all of the frosting. "Delicious." He said quietly, his large hands sliding atop your thighs, his fingers slipping under the hem of your dress slightly as he teased you, dragging his fingers higher. "But you missed some..." Nanami whispered, raising himself on his knees.

"Yeah?" you asked teasingly, your hands sliding over Nanami's shoulders. "Yeah, right here," Nanami whispered against your skin. His hair tickled your neck as he leaned in, his tongue poking out between his lips as he licked the frosting directly off your chest. "Mmm." You moaned softly with your lips together, tangling your hands in Nanami's hair as his licking turned to sucking, his trail of kisses moving up your neck.

"Ken.." You moaned softly as he raised from his place on the floor, his hands sliding up your body, raising your dress slightly in the process as his knee made home on your chair, between your legs. Nanami kept his head on your neck, his hands feeling up your body as you tipped your head back, giving him unobstructed access to your neck.

He groaned against your skin, your legs pressing together around his thick thigh as his knee pressed against your cunt, stimulating your needy clit, making you whimper into the air. Your eyes fluttered open between his kisses, your eyes locking onto the clock, which currently read 12:05, you had missed the ball drop.

"Shit, Kento look at the time." You said, making him pull away from your neck, his head turning around to look at the clock. He looked back at you apologetically, his eyes taking in your adorable pout. "I'm sorry honey, got a little distracted." He smiled, making your pout subside slightly. "Now you have to make it up to me." You said, running your hands over Nanami's pecs and abs as he stood, his warm hand cradling your face.

"How so?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at your demands. You stood quickly, jumping into his arms, making him laugh at your sudden movements as he caught you, his hands cradling your ass. "First things first." You said before you pressed your lips to his, your hands wrapping around his neck, your nails raking over his undercut, making him groan into the kiss.

You pulled away, not wanting to waste the night any longer. Nanami looked disheveled already, just from a little pec. You cradled his cheeks in your hand before you leaned in, kissing the shell of his ear before you spoke. "Wanna see what you can do with your tongue somewhere else." Nanami let out a groan at your words, shaking his head as he felt his cock twitch.

"Who taught you to talk like that, huh?" He asked, walking you towards your shared bedroom as he spoke. " My husband." You giggled, pressing your lips to his once more as he navigated his way through the hallway.

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Yuji: SFW

Yuji had been sent on a mission with Nanami earlier in the morning. he told you when he left that Nanami said it wouldn't take very long, so you shouldn't worry--he would be back in time for your New Year's kiss. But it was 12:30 now, and you sat in Nobara's room, trying not to cry as she painted your nails, her playlist playing quietly in the backround as the new year count down played on her TV.

"I don't think he's going to make it back in time." You said, pouting as you watched her work in front of you. "I'm pretty sure he would part the Atlantic Ocean to get to you, stop worrying." She said, brushing off your concerns. Nobara had been very confident all night, throughout all your worrying, that Yuji was going to make it back before midnight.

"His mission was across town, and the roads are probably hell right now... I don't know. It's fine, there's always next year." You said unconvinced, ignoring Nobara's words completely. "Ugh, I didn't realize you were such a downer~ When have I ever been wrong about anything, ever?" She shouted, looking up at you offended, holding the nail polish bottle in one hand.

*ring ring* *ring ring*

Yuji's name popped up on your phone, the screen illuminating with a picture of the two of you on the beach. "Uh oh," Nobara said, only increasing the pit of despair you felt in your stomach. You glared at her before swallowing hard and answering the phone--you don't think your mouth has ever been so dry in your life. "Yuji? Everything okay?" You asked. The backround on Yuji's end sounded like he was in a car, giving you false hope before he spoke.

"I-I'm so sorry. I'm not going to make it back to the school in time. I'm really sorry." Yuji spoke into the receiver, sounding like he was about to cry. You squeezed your eyes shut, your hope shattering in your chest like glass. He sounded sad enough as it is, you didnt want to make him feel any worse than he already did, so you did your best to keep your disappointment out of your voice when you spoke.

"Its.. It's alright Yuji, I'll see you when you get here, I know you did your best." Nobara cringed hearing you talk, knowing that she had been wrong. The two of you exchanged a few more words, mostly "I'm sorry's" from Yuji, before you ended the call. You placed your phone back on the bed, face down, before you looked up at Nobara with an 'I told you so' look on your face.

She inhaled sharply, looking back down to your hand she took it in her own, dipping the brush in the nail polish and wiping it against the side as she got to work, "Shit.. uh.. I feel like I should say my bad for getting your hopes up. I'm literally never wrong." She said, brushing the paint over your nails. "It's not your fault Nobara, I told you It'll be fine." She wondered if you knew how horrible you were at concealing your disappointment. It had been painfully obvious when you tried to hide it over the phone with Yuji too.

Nobara had finished your nails at 11:40, and it was not 11:55. A part of you was still wishing Itadori would burst through Nobara's door, but you knew that was just false wishing. After all, he had called you himself and told you he wasn't going to make it. "We can smooch if you want, the ball is about to drop," Nobara said from her place on the bed. She was lying upside down, half of her body draped off the bed while she used her phone, her arms hanging out in front of her.

"You know I can't kiss you." You giggled, kicking her foot playfully. "Yeah, I know. Sorry about Itadori." She said honestly, making you feel choked up suddenly. He really wasn't going to make it, the realization finally hitting you when the clock hit 11:59, only 30 seconds before the ball dropped. Before you could open your mouth to say it was alright, you heard a loud bang outside Nobara's door, sounding like it had come from your room across the hall, making you and Nobara both jump.

"The fuck?" Nobara said, sliding off the bed completely, and sitting crisscross on the ground. You both sat in silence as you waited to hear something else. After a few seconds, loud and quick knocks were rapped on Nobara's door, followed by a very familiar voice. "KUGISAKI, IS MY GIRLFRIEND WITH YOU?????" Yuji yelled through the door. You could hear him pacing on the squeaky floor.

Before she even had a chance to answer you were on your feet, making a b-line for the door. You slid the door open as you came face to face with a red-faced, messy-haired, and sweating Itadori, right as the countdown to the new Year echoed "Three! Two! One!" In the backround. "Hey." He spoke, out of breath, a dopey smile on his face.

You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing your lips to his. His hands wrapped around your waist, pressing your body snugly to yours as he kissed you back, his eyes squeezing together tightly. "YUCK, get a rooooom." Kugisaki groaned, covering her eyes as the two of you kissed in her doorway.

You pulled away, looking at him exasperatedly, your hands slapping over his face and squishing his cheeks, making sure he was real and not some figment of your imagination. Itadori laughed, keeping his arms snug around your waist as you toyed with his cheeks. "How are you here? I thought you weren't going to make it?" You asked, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

"I ran here. I could tell you were trying to hide it for my sake, but I couldn't stand how disappointed you sounded." He said, his cheeks turning red from your pampering. "You ran here?!" You asked, knowing how far away his mission was. That explained his disheveled appearance. "How far?" You followed up your question, your eyebrows raised in concern.

He laughed, rubbing his thumbs into your skin comfortingly. "Just a couple miles, nothing crazy." He said nonchalantly, your mouth hanging open in shock as he spoke. "I told you he would do anything for you!!" Nobara yelled, a big smile on her face as she pointed at Itadori, looking proud of herself. "She's right, I love you. Happy New Year." Itadori said, smiling at you fondly.

You leaned in to press another kiss to his lips briefly, pulling back to smile at his adorable face, "I love you Yuij Itadori."

Megumi: SFW

"C'mon man, you gotta do it," Yuji said to Megumi, standing behind him as he shook his shoulders in his hands, the two boys facing you as you mingled with Maki and Nobara in the corner. "I... I don't think I can." Megumi blushed, his eyes raking over your frame, taking in how beautiful you looked.

You had your hair all done up, and you were dressed to the heavens. How was Megumi supposed to kiss you if he could barely look at you? "I've never even kissed anyone before, what if I suck?" He asked Yuji insecurely, looking at the walls in the room like they were the most interesting thing in the world

"How hard can it be? You wanna practice with me?" Yuji asked in all seriousness. Megumi shook Yuji's hands off of his shoulders at that, "Be serious. I'm not losing my first kiss to you." He said, scowling at the pink-haired boy as he came to stand next to him. "Ouch... I was just trying to be nice." Yuji pouted dramatically, crossing his arms.

After a couple seconds of silence, as Yuji watched the dark-haired boy stare at you while blushing, he decided to give him a little push. "It's almost midnight Megumi, and uh... not trying to freak you out or anything, but I think you have a little competition," Yuij said, pursing his lips together. The speed at which Megumi turned his head to look at Yuji almost made him laugh, but he needed to keep his composure if his little fib was going to work.

"See blondie over there with Todo?" Yuji asked, tipping his head to the innocent-looking boy standing next to the mammoth that was Todo. "He's been eying up your girl allllll night," Yuji said. "She's not my..." Megumi trailed off, his eyes finding the boy Yuji was talking about. Coincidentally, the new kid from Kyoto happened to have a crush on Maki, which Yuji knew (thanks to Todo's big mouth) who was standing right next to you.

So when Megumi looked to see the boy staring at Maki, it really looked as if he was staring at you. Megumi didn't think he was a jealous person, but the way the boy was staring at 'you' made his blood boil. "Well... she certainly won't be your girl if you don't hurry and make a move before blondie does." Yuji teased, raising his eyebrows dramatically.

"Fuck.." Megumi cursed under his breath. His fists balled by his sides as he took a couple deep breaths, trying to prepare himself. "You got this!" Yuji cheered as Megumi took the first step forward, walking toward you. It was 5 minutes to 12, meaning Megumi had no time to lose.

"Oh, hey Megumi," Maki said, nodding at her bruting-looking cousin when he walked up. You blushed as your eyes focused on his face, he looked so handsome under the dim blue lighting of the main room. "Makiiiiii, Nobaraaaaa." Yuji mouthed, waving his arms dramatically to get their attention. The two girls looked over your shoulder to the pink haired boy making obnoxious movements with his arms.

Once he successfully got their attention, he pointed to you and Fushiguro, mouthing both of your names, before he turned around and pretended to make out with someone, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Nobara tried to hold back a laugh as she watched her classmate play charades across the room. When he turned back around, he waved them over, telling them to leave the two of you alone.

"Ah, bye Megumi!" Nobara said suddenly, not even trying to come up with some lame excuse as she dragged Maki by the hand away from the two of you, leaving you and Megumi alone under the light of the blue lamp in the corner of the room.

You can't believe your friends had just left you like that. You had just got done talking about how you wanted to kiss Megumi, and how nervous you were about talking to him tonight, and the second he walks up they abandon you? Some friends.

"What's up Megumi? You havin' fun?" You asked, trying to make small talk with your crush as the seconds ticked by faster and faster, midnight rapidly approaching. "Mm, it's not bad, parties aren't really my thing." He said, trying his best to not look at your lips while he spoke.

"Oh yeah? Me neither honestly. Why did you end up coming anyway?" You asked him, trying to keep the conversation going. "Why did you?" he retorted, catching you off guard. His dark eyes staring into yours were making you nervous, he was looking at you like he could see right through you.

"I uh.. well it's New Year's, I couldn't just stay cooped up in my room. Plus Nobara wanted me to hype her up for her kiss with Maki. She's been wanting to make a move for a while now." You said, pulling a half-truth from your brain. Truthfully, Nobara would've been fine without you, you just wanted to kiss Megumi.

"That's nice of you," Megumi responded, taking note of the way you fidgeted with your fingers. Before you could respond, someone yelled from the other side of the room "30 seconds till midnight!! Kiss it up!!" Their choice of words made you cringe, but it also made you hyperaware of how alone you and Fushiguro were right now. And now that the mention of kissing had been brought up, you were sweating.

"I came here because of you." Megumi blurted out suddenly, making your mouth open in a small O shape. The blue light did little to hide the dusting of blush on his cheeks. You quickly felt your own cheeks heat up at his confession, struggling to find the words to say. "How.. how so?" You asked, fearing to ask the direct question 'do you want to kiss me?' even as the time ticked quickly to midnight.

"I... Isn't it obvious?" He asked, clearly not wanting to say it himself. The sudden ten-second countdown made your heart beat out of your chest, you could feel every drop of blood racing through your veins the way your adrenaline spiked. "I want to hear you say it.. p-please." You asked, somehow still doubting yourself.

"Five! Four!" "I want to kiss you. Is that okay? Can I kiss you?" He asked, his words coming out rushed as his face scrunched in embarrassment at his own words. When you heard the others start to cheer, followed by "Happy New Year!" You decided to answer his question with an action. Standing on your tip toes you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his.

Megumi made a noise of surprise against your lips, his eyes going wide before they shut, following your lead as he reciprocated the kiss, pressing his lips to yours. Megumi felt his face heat up when he heard Itadori cheer a loud "GO MEGUMIU!!! THATS MY BOY!!" as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You pulled back from the kiss, the both of you breathing quietly against the other's lips. "Was that Itadori..." you whispered, trying to hold back your smile.

Megumi plopped his forehead down on your shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "Yup..." he whispered, his voice vibrating your skin, making you giggle. "Thats kinda cute." You said, running your hands through his soft hair. Megumi groaned into your neck, clearly disagreeing with your words before he pulled back, staring at your plush lips he just kissed with a pout.

"What?" You asked, smiling as you watched him oggle them. "I want to kiss you again." He said cutely. You placed your hands on his cheeks, bringing your lips together once more before you pulled away and whispered against his lips, "Kiss me all you want."

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[haetrack]

your fate, my karma

jung jaehyun x fem!reader

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you. but he can’t help it, it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret.

warnings: angst, little fluff, friends with benefits, pining, one sided love, confession, argument, smut (MDNI), desperate jaehyun, unprotected sex (pulling out), possessiveness and jealousy, dialogue heavy at some parts

heavily inspired by somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra

part three to the how it all goes series!

you're laid back onto his bed, heavy breaths fanned across your face. on top of you is jaehyun, cheeks dusted with pink as his fingers are still move inside of you. “stop already,” you huff out a laugh, “i might die if you make me cum one more time.”

he chuckles at your words and slowly pulls his fingers out of you, sucking obscenely on them just to annoy you. it works, and you cover your eyes to get the image out of your head. you don’t offer to help him out, and he doesn’t ask for any favors.

he’s not really sure how his friendship with you got to this point. if he could put it simply, you told him that you had feelings for him, asking if he felt the same way. he said that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he wasn’t ready to be so vulnerable in front of another person. he still wanted to be friends with you. 

he remembers seeing sadness flash through your eyes, but you just smiled at him and accepted the answer that you got. in a way, jaehyun wished he could like you back, he hated the way he hurt you, but he just wasn’t ready. you were wary around him, trying to hide the hurt that he caused you. he couldn’t bear to see it, and hated how much you were hiding from him.

which is how he finds you next to him, curled up in his bed after he’s made you cum. he knows it probably wasn’t the best idea to propose, but he didn’t know how else he could keep you close. when he explains it to himself in his head, it sounds shitty, makes him feel a little fucked up. he tries to justify it, but really, all of this is a temporary fix to keep you close to him.

despite all the grey areas in his friendship with you, he’s certain about one thing: he really does like having you around. he’s chalked it up to his feelings just being from how long he’s known you, but he knows that there’s something else he doesn’t want to admit. because one, it’s fucked. two, he’s rejected you. three, he can’t like you.

he can’t like like you. he doesn’t even want to imagine thinking about the other word, but it plays at the back of his head sometimes. he hears it when you’re both out at a bar together, watching you drunkenly cling to his side. he hears it when you’re at his apartment after work. he hears it when your eyes look up at his when you drop to your knees.

he can hear it even now as you lay next to him, curled up into his side as your breaths even out. it doesn’t feel weird that he can feel your naked body against his, his best friend comfortably laid up next to him. is it so wrong of him to want this? you became more comfortable around him again after he had sex with you. he knows it’s just a temporary solution.

he can feel your breaths across his chest, your face nuzzling closer to him. he could move you away, could create a clearer boundary between the two of you. he feels a little selfish when he lets you stay there, deciding to wrap an arm around your shoulders as he pushes you closer. it’s not fair to either of you, he’s not your boyfriend, he shouldn’t be this close to you. 

it’s quiet in his room, save for the sound of cars driving down the road and the occasional huff you let out in your sleep. he isn’t tired at all, too lost in his thoughts as he stares up at the ceiling, the warmth of your body taking up all his thoughts. if he could, he would go back in time and stop you from confessing. he would’ve done it himself in the future, he just needed a little more time.

he can’t blame you though. it’s his fault for rejecting you, it’s his fault for thinking that he could make something happen out of this. there’s a small part of his heart that believes that you could like him again. you wouldn’t come back to him for sex every night, right? but the more realistic part of him knows that it could mean anything.

which is why he can’t stop you coming to him when you’re needy. it’s not even just those times, but he doesn’t think he could ever willingly cut you off. he likes spending time with you, and above everything else, you’re his friend.

he just can’t help but wish it could be a little more than that.

you always ask jaehyun to come over if he has the time.

as you both have grown older, it feels like you both have lost more and more time. when you were both college students, it was easy to skip a few classes and go to parties each night. but now as adults, it’s hard to find time for each other. which is why you ask him to go do mundane tasks with you, like buying groceries or trying on clothes.

today it’s going over to eat with him.

before he rejected you, it felt special to be invited to do these kinds of things with him. out of all the people he could’ve asked, he chose you. it didn’t take long for you to realize that, no, jaehyun asking you to spend time with him meant nothing but him being friendly. it’s weird looking back at how much you wanted jaehyun to like you more than a friend. 

as you make your way to his apartment, you realize how much time you spent just wishing for something to happen between you two. you wonder if it was something that was ever supposed to happen between you, or maybe if the timing just wasn’t right. you used to find yourself thinking about the what ifs after he had freshly rejected you. but now, you try to focus on what you have.

he’s just your friend, and you’re close to accepting that it’ll probably never be more than that. 

when you make it to his apartment, you don’t see him right away. you call out his name, hearing his voice from his kitchen. when you head over, you’re expecting a nice meal laid out for the two of you to eat. instead, you’re greeted by jaehyun standing by the stove, a stupid smile on his face as he greets you.

“so, you invite me over to come and eat.”

he nods, smile growing wider, “yes.”

“but i’m not seeing any food.”

“that’s because you’re gonna help me.”

you stare at him. he starts moving towards you, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. he starts dragging you towards where he was standing. you start whining, “you don’t need my help. you’re a whole grown man who can cook whatever he wants.”

he laughs, “but i need you to be my other chef… what are they called?”

you roll your eyes, “a sous chef?”

“exactly,” he points at you, as if you just solidified his argument, “what if i forget something and i need your help?”

you pat his shoulder, “then you call me while i sit over on the couch.”

he’s about to give up, but he swears there’s a certain look in your eyes that ask him to keep going. that’s how it always feels with you, a certain push-and-pull that you both can’t let go of. your fingers twitch against his shoulder, almost giving you away. he moves to hold your hand, “how about you at least watch me on the side. i just wanna talk to you.”

you almost want to point out his pouty tone, want to laugh at how there’s a frown on his face. but you can’t. he looks a little too sincere, and you don’t want to think too hard about the feelings he doesn’t have for you. you sigh, eventually giving into his words. it’s always like this, jaehyun acting like he can’t go on without you. that’s what got you here in the first place.

he smiles when you approach him, so close that his arm is touching yours. it doesn’t matter how long or how many times he’s had sex with you, to have you close to him like this makes his heart soar. 

it’s like this for the whole time you both cook. your hands lightly grazing his, the sweet smile you show him when he does good, the laugh you let out when he messes up. you take over some parts for him without him asking you to. he can’t help let his mind wander, thinking this is how it would be all the time if you two were dating.

he wouldn’t have to beg you to do something with him, you would do it on your own accord. he wouldn’t have to hold back how much he wants to kiss you, he could press as many kisses on your cheeks or lips. he could stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as you forcibly kick him off of cooking duty.

instead, he’s standing in front of the food he’s making, probably overcooking it as you point and laugh at him. you even take out your phone to take a picture of him, laughing as you fiddle with your phone. he swats at you, grumbling, “if you posted that on instagram, i am definitely blocking you.”

“you know me so well. i tagged you and everything.”

he chooses not to respond, taking out plates from his cabinet for the both of you. he can see you standing next to him, waiting to plate your food. he quickly decides to plate it for you, trying to hide his pink cheeks as he pushes the plate towards you. when he’s plating his own, you speak up, “wow, what a gentleman!” he can hear the teasing tone you use, “you’re really setting the bar for all men, aren’t you, jaehyun?”

he decides to tease you back, “just trying to show you how much nicer i am than you are. you should post this on instagram, too.”

“nope, letting all my followers know how mean and horrible of a cook you are. i’m ruining your chances of getting with someone.”

he shakes his head in amusement, moving to one of the seats on his small dining table. you follow, sitting right across from him. he messes with his phone a bit before you can hear that it’s connected to his speakers. an unfamiliar tune starts playing as you watch jaehyun’s head bob along to the song. 

this is how it always is, eating together, listening to his annoyingly good music taste, and enjoying each other’s presence. the food he cooked is surprisingly good, but you try to denounce it because you did help him along the way. it’s quiet between the two of you, nothing really too important to talk about.

jaehyun notices your fingers tapping along the table to the beat of the song. he smiles, “do you like it? the song?”

you pretend to think about it, “hm... well, it’s good.”

“you’re not gonna secretly shazam it under the table like last time?”

“that was literally a one time thing,” you huff, “i’ll just go and find someone with the exact same music taste as you.”

he smiles to himself, “you know there’s no one else like me.”

you think about his words for a bit. he probably didn’t mean for them to have a double meaning, but you can’t help but find one. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to find someone who could’ve made you as happy as jaehyun does. you wonder if you do ever find someone, if you’d be able to forget jaehyun.

you feel like you’ve become so intertwined in his life that everything might lead back to him.

you eventually nod along to his words, “yeah, there’s no one else like you.”

“you’re kinda an ass for not picking her up yourself.”

jaehyun huffs at johnny’s words. it’s not that he didn’t want to, but you had assured him that you would make it on time. when he brought up your safety, you said that it was taken care of already. jaehyun couldn’t help but wonder who or what could possibly be more safe than him, but he didn’t want to argue. 

but now that you’re a little late, he can’t stop himself from worrying. johnny makes it worse, tearing into him, teasing him with every word. jaehyun hasn’t told him about his surfacing feelings for you, but johnny is notoriously nosy, probably knowing the exact day jaehyun thought that he started liking you. 

johnny takes one more jab at him, “she would’ve liked you more if you’d been the one who brought her.”

jaehyun’s shoulder bumps into johnny’s, “she already does like me a lot, so there’s no need for all of that.”

johnny shrugs, letting out an if you say so as he sips on his drink. as much as jaehyun wants to deny it, he really wishes he could’ve at least given you a ride. he would’ve immediately ditched johnny if you asked, would’ve been right outside your doorstep as soon as you said you were ready. he wants to tell himself that that’s just what friends do, but there’s something he doesn’t want to admit.

his hands move to pull out his phone, scrolling through your messages from the past hours. he knows he’s made a mistake as soon as he feels johnny’s eyes looking at his screen from over his shoulder. jaehyun makes a jokingly shocked face at johnny to try to distract him, but johnny’s face mirrors his own. 

johnny’s about to say something with a teasing smile on his face and jaehyun’s ready to stop him. instead, a ding comes from his phone, calling their attention. it’s a text from you, letting jaehyun know that you’re outside. he sends a text to you, his eyes moving to the entrance as he waits for you to walk in.

and there you are.

your eyes scan the room, looking for both him and johnny. jaehyun can feel his cheeks heat up at the sight of you, your face illuminated by the warm lights of the bar. he thinks you look pretty all the time, but now that he’s seeing you like this, he wants to keep it in his memory forever.

you quickly spot them, your face brightening up with a smile as you make your way towards them. you greet the two of them, johnny easily bringing you into a hug. when you turn to jaehyun, you expect the same, but his eyes stay on you for a moment too long. he notices your teasing smile, quickly clearing his throat before wrapping his arms around you.

johnny starts, “always so fashionably late.”

you laugh, “if i don’t come, who else is gonna be the funniest and sexiest person in our friend group?”

johnny moves to tuck an invisible strand of hair behind his ear, “i was holding that position just fine before you came.”

you slap his shoulder, a fit of laughter taking over you. jaehyun watches the two of you, quietly laughing at the side. he likes the dynamic the three of you have, always mentally thanking johnny for introducing you to him. he’d endure all of johnny’s teasing for years if it meant to have you laughing at his side.

it stays like this for a while. the three of you drinking together, laughing when johnny tries dragging you closer to the middle of the room to dance. jaehyun can feel his cheeks get hotter, pink from the alcohol and the not-so-visible adoration he holds for you. he tries to quiet his feelings, but when you lean into his side, your warm body pressing against his, he figures he can give up the act a little.

it’s at times like these where jaehyun realizes that he can see the you from before the rejection. it’s a bit selfish for him crave this side of you, the one where you don’t care how much you touch him or how you continue talking into his ear all night. he thinks that if you were both dating, he could lean over and press a kiss to your cheek, watching as you nuzzle into his side.

for now, all he can do is wrap his arm around yours as you both sway side to side. johnny went off to get another drink, promising to be back quickly. jaehyun has this little time to have you all to himself, listening to the loud chattering around him and the bass of the music loud in his ears. your eyes are closed, humming along to the song.

jaehyun could easily whisper into your ear about his feelings. you probably wouldn’t remember either way, but he knows it’s not right. it’s not like he’d want to do it this way, wanting to tell you honestly. but there’s a growing part inside his brain that’s begging him to do something about it. he has you so close now, so why can’t just say that he likes you?

the thoughts dissipate when johnny comes back, smile on his face with three more drinks in hand. johnny quickly notices how your arm is intertwined with jaehyun’s, and jaehyun can physically see the moment johnny comes up with a plan. jaehyun doesn’t bother moving from his spot, though, willing to sacrifice his humility just to have you by his side.

as if jaehyun wasn’t having thoughts of kissing or dating you, the conversation turns back to normal. the three of you chatting, exchanging work gossip and taking drinks from your cups. it’s like every night this happens, it’s a regular routine of talking and him having to fight back his more than friendly thoughts of his friend. 

except this time, while johnny’s explaining how he thinks his boss might be having an affair, you cut him off. johnny jokingly scoffs, turning to where you’re looking at. you both squeal, johnny’s hands finding your shoulders, shaking them back and forth. you gasp, “that’s him, right?”

johnny matches your tone, “totally him! i could recognize him from anywhere!”

raising an eyebrow in your direction, jaehyun asks, “and who exactly are we talking about?”

you turn back at him, “that’s jungwoo, someone we knew from college!”

the name sounds familiar to jaehyun. there’s probably been a few times you talked about him during one semester. he’s not sure which one it could be, but there’s a memory of a faint smile on your face while talking about him. it sets a weird feeling in jaehyun’s stomach, and he realizes you look a little too excited at the sight of jungwoo.

jaehyun’s arm is still looped around yours, a small frown on his face, “does everyone and their moms know jungwoo now?”

“he was funny in class and he bought me coffee once,” johnny hums.

you join in, “he is definitely funny and he did good when we worked on a project together.”

jaehyun pointedly glares at johnny when he speaks, but when you speak, he just holds you closer to him. he can see how johnny watches him, being reminded of how he looked like he was planning something earlier. jaehyun sees it now, johnny’s face darkening before he speaks, turning to speak to you, “i think you should go talk to him.”

jaehyun sends a pointed glare at him before looking at you, his eyes widening when he sees the shy smile on your face. you ask, “what if he doesn’t even recognize me?”

“why wouldn’t he? he always looked at you a certain way when you guys talked, he definitely remembers you.”

jaehyun wonders why no one told him more about this “jungwoo” and his apparent more-than-friendly feelings for you? if johnny knows, then does that mean the three of you hung out before without him? how much has jaehyun missed between you and jungwoo? jaehyun silently takes another sip of his drink, his eyes peering over his cup as he watches you get lost in your thoughts.

he thinks you might drop the conversation, but you breath out, “i’ll do it. i’ll go talk to him.”

jaehyun tries his best not to acknowledge the growing jealousy he can feel bubbling up in his throat. he has to bite back a remark that would probably make things worse for himself. he decides to let go of your arm, watching as you easily separate from him. johnny starts hyping you up, giving you encouraging words as jaehyun massages your shoulders.

although jaehyun wishes he could say don’t go over there or i’ll die, he decides to send you a thumbs up before you walk away. his throat burns, and as much as he wants to think it’s from the alcohol, it’s from seeing you walk away from him. you’re walking to someone that isn’t him, sharing your warmth that’s supposed to be jaehyun’s.

he realizes then and there that he shouldn’t be thinking that.

you’re pressed against jaehyun’s bed, his face burying into your neck as he leaves kisses across your skin. you had to tell him to not leave any marks when you feel his teeth nip at your skin, and you could’ve sworn you heard a huff come out of him when you did. he’s practically pinning you down, body barely hovering over yours.

there are days where he gets like this, too desperate to where he doesn’t realize he grips you a little tighter, his voice growing deeper, relieving all of his stress by making you both feel good. you can tell when he gets like this, a quick text of an you up? letting you know what he wants. you’ve grown to learn all his habits.

it does feel a little different today, though. he was quick to greet you, quick to bring you to bed to kiss you. there were no words of how work was hard for him or if he was stressed about something that happened. not that there’s anything wrong with him not saying, but there’s a certain desperation in his movements as his lips trail down your body.

you decide not to ask about it, not wanting to pressure him into talking about something he doesn’t want to talk about. you’re quick to forget about it when he presses a kiss onto your clothed clit. he calls your name, bringing your attention to the heavy gaze he gives you. he murmurs out, “gonna let me see this pretty pussy?”

you nod quickly, lifting your hips up so he can take off your panties. he moves to lay between your thighs, humming when he sees how you’re dripping for him. it’s embarrassing, trying to close your legs. you’re met with his hands keeping them apart, chuckling at the whine you let out.

“didn’t know you could be this wet for me. if i didn’t know any better, i’d think that you need me.”

you let out a small whimper when he traces a finger down your slit, “jaehyun, please, need you to- need you to do something!”

“tell me what you need, pretty. if you don’t tell me, how am i supposed to help?”

“need you, jaehyun! want your fingers, want you to touch me!”

“of course, that’s all i needed to hear.”

you can feel one of his fingers slide into you, your head falling back onto his pillow at the feeling. you clench around his digit, already begging for more, needing him to fill you up. he doesn’t tease you for being so desperate, quickly giving into your pleas as another finger slips inside you. you let out a cry when you feel his thumb circle around your clit.

“such a messy baby, dripping all over my fingers. needed me so bad, right?”

moans of his name tumble out of your lips when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that sends shocks down your spine. your hands are gripping onto the sheets, realizing just how fast you're about to cum. you’re sure he can feel you clench around his digits, especially when you manage to open your eyes and see him looking straight at you.

“gonna cum all over my fingers?”

“fuck, yes! please, wanna cum, need you to let me cum!”

his movements speed up at your words, “go ahead and show me how much you need it.”

you’re quick to fall apart, your orgasm crashing into you. your thighs shut around his hand that’s helping you ride out your orgasm. all you can hear are the sounds you make and the encouragement that jaehyun mumbles out to you. you’re too fucked out to realize that his clean hand intertwines with yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

before you can comment on it, he’s quick to pull away from you, hands moving to undo his pants. you move to try to do it for him, but he swats your hands away with a laugh. after letting you gawk at him for a bit, he takes his boxers off, a whine leaving you at the sight of his leaking cock. he tilts his head at you, “are you gonna let me fill your pretty pussy up?”

“please,” you moan. your legs move to wrap around his waist, bringing his hips flush to yours. his cock ruts against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm. he shushes you when you let out a small gasp, one of his hands soothing the skin of your thigh. you let out a small cry when his tips rubs against your clit, the last of your patience running out.

you can tell it’s getting to him, too. his cheeks and ears are flushed, his eyebrows furrowed as he switches between watching your face and where he’s pressed against you. he bites back a groan when his tip catches at your entrance, trying hard not to push into you right then and there. he puts all his focus on you, “tell me that you want me to fill you up. tell me that you need me to fuck you.”

you whine, your head digging into the pillow. despite his flushed face, there’s a cocky look on his face as he stares down at you. you’re too desperate to try to fight back, losing the battle as you let out a whimper of his name. there’s almost a surprised look in his eyes as he sees you give up this easily, leaning down to give you a quick kiss to your collarbone.

“i know, baby, need you just as bad. gonna fuck you like you need it, okay?”

you whisper out a thank you as he moves to line himself up at your entrance. he slowly slides in, letting out a deep groan as he watches himself sink into you. he fights off his eyes from closing at the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around his length. you’re no better, writhing around in the sheets, whimpers of his name escaping you.

once he bottoms out, he lets out a grunt, “missed this pussy so much. so fucking warm, so tight, all for me.” you’re quick to agree, hands trying to reach at his shoulders to bring him closer to you. he gives in easily, huffing at how he can feel himself deeper inside you at the new position. he kisses the valley of your breasts, sucking lightly.

he starts off slow, teasing you as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. if you can listen past your own moans and whimpers, you can hear the quiet curses and sounds he lets out, trying to hide how much you’re affecting him. when your nails claw at his back, he breaks, “didn’t even mean to call you this late, i just needed you so bad.”

his words get to you, the fact that he wanted to call you because he was needy makes you clench around him. he can’t help but pick up the pace of his thrusts at the feeling, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. you don’t know what has him so worked up, but if he’s going to make you feel this good, you might have to figure it out.

you need just a little more, your hand trailing down your body to get to your clit. you moan in relief when your fingers circle your clit, clenching tightly around jaehyun’s length. it has his hips stuttering slightly, eyes making their way to your hand. he’s quick to push your hand away to replace it with his own, thumb making tight circles around the nub. 

he move up to whisper into your ear, “only i can make you feel this good, right? i know you better than anyone else, even yourself.”

you shake your head at his words, but your hips roll up into his, trying to fit more of him inside you. he chuckles lowly at the sight, a small smile on his face as he watches you. he’s slamming into you now, any patience he had now gone as he nears the edge. he starts, “no? trust me, pretty. i know just how you like to be touched, how you liked to be fucked. i know you so well that i just know that you’re close to cumming.”

tears prick your eyes, because yes, you are close to cumming. you can’t help it, not when he’s fucking you like this. he’s not usually this talkative, choosing rather to focus on getting away from any stresses. but now, he’s letting you in on his thoughts, letting you know what could possibly be nagging at him. you’ll save it for another time.

you’re surrounded by all of him, chest touching his as his warm breath hits your neck. you used to wish for him to kiss you during moments like these, moments where you’re both so close, adrenaline too high. now, all you can do is whine out his name, begging for him to let you cum.

it’s easy for you to let go of any past emotions you had for him, but for jaehyun, he wishes he could kiss you. he wishes that you could want him again, wishes that he didn’t have to fuck you like this. this is what he wanted, though. he just didn’t think it would be this hard. he tries to ignore it by groaning into your ear, “gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock?”

“y-yes, please! you make me feel so good!”

“yeah? show me then, pretty girl. show me how i’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”

at the sound of his voice, you cum. your chest arches up into his, nails digging into his back as you let go. he’s moaning at the feeling, his hips stuttering as he tries to fuck into your tight pussy. he has to bite down onto your shoulder at the feeling, holding back just how bad he wants to cum inside you.

when you start whining, he’s quick to pull out of your heat, quickly jerking himself off to the sight of how fucked out you look. with a moan of your name, his cum shoots out over your stomach, his cheeks a pretty pink as he does. 

it’s quiet in his room, save for the deep breaths you both let out. he’s just staring down at you, saving the image of you covered in his cum in his mind. you don’t mind, too tired to notice the slight adoration in his eyes as he stares. it is embarrassing though, covering your face with your arm as you tell him to move.

he blinks away his thoughts, chuckling at your embarrassment. he pats your thigh, moving away as he goes to get a towel to clean you up. he’s being careful with you, his movements slow as the towel moves around your body. there’s a soft look in his eyes, a lazy smile on his face as he indirectly touches you. he’s quick to throw the towel into his laundry basket, even quicker to join you in bed. 

in a motion that almost seems too soft for the fact that he just fucked you into his sheets, he pulls your back into his chest. one of his hands makes it to your side, letting it sit there. his breaths are evening out, fanning across your shoulder that he nuzzles into. his touches are hesitant against your skin, almost as if he was debating on whether or not he could touch you like this.

you almost want to push his hand away or try to make some space between the two of you. friends should not be holding each other like this, friends should not be letting each other bask in the warmth of their bodies. friends shouldn’t even be having sex, not like this.

but you figure just this once, you’ll let yourself have this moment. it’s a bit selfish, getting to have jaehyun like this. you wished he’d hold you like this every single time. you think if he did, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from falling back in love with him. there’s no way for you to win when it comes to jaehyun.

as he presses a kiss and murmurs a goodnight into your shoulder, you make a promise to yourself: you won’t ever lose yourself over jaehyun again.

jaehyun realizes how little time he’s been spending with you recently.

he’s been hearing more about this jungwoo guy. you’ve told him can’t hang out, i’m with jungwoo right now or i’ll be hanging out with jungwoo later. you’ve been so busy catching up with jungwoo that jaehyun hasn’t had the time to talk to you. no more eating or shopping together, not when jungwoo’s around.

jaehyun doesn’t want to say he’s necessarily jealous of the relationship you two share, but can’t say it doesn’t sit right with him. jaehyun is still your friend after all, and he doesn’t like hearing you talk so much about him. during the small chances jaehyun gets to talk to you, you always slip in one mention about jungwoo.

what about jaehyun? what does jungwoo have that he doesn’t? he could totally treat and touch you better than jungwoo ever could. he practically does already. he can’t help but let these little thoughts enter his mind. if jungwoo’s in the way, how is jaehyun supposed to show you how much he likes you?

it’s one day that you’re both splayed across his couch, your legs resting over his as his thumb smoothes across the skin of your thigh when jungwoo is brought up again. out of the corner of his eye, he can see you smile and lightly laugh at your phone. jaehyun, being the nosy person that he is, can’t help but try to reach over to see what you’re laughing at.

you’re quick to push him away, chuckling at the sight of the small pout on his face. he tries again, and you decide it’s probably better just to sit beside him instead. you begrudgingly show him your phone, and he squints his eyes so he can read your screen better.

it’s quiet for a few moments before he hums at the texts between you and jungwoo. it’s a conversation funny enough to make you laugh. he tries not to roll his eyes at the cutesy way jungwoo texts, him being clearly interested in you. he doesn’t want to say anything about it though, doesn’t want you to know that jungwoo bothers him for reasons that he shouldn’t be thinking. 

“he’s funny,” jaehyun muses, trying to stop the snarky remark he wants to say.

“way funnier than you,” you tease, watching him deflate back to his side of the couch. 

“there’s been times where you’ve laughed at my jokes though, like laughed laughed.”

“i was either super drunk or bored out of my mind, so those don’t count.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes at you, deciding to ignore your words, choosing to believe that you think he’s the funniest man ever. he’s been finding himself having little competitions with jungwoo that only he’s a part of. jungwoo is funny? jaehyun is funnier. jungwoo is cute? jaehyun is cute, too, just give him a minute.

jaehyun tries to boil it down to the fact he’s always been competitive, but he knows it’s more than that. in his head, it doesn’t matter what jungwoo does better than jaehyun because right now, you're in his apartment, on his couch, deciding to spend meaningless time with him. 

“what have you both been doing? i haven’t seen you at all this week.” he hates how his voice sounds, a little too clingy for his liking, but he hopes you don’t hear it.

“nothing, really. we’ve just been going out to eat or hanging out when we have the time.”

jaehyun figures you both somehow have all the time in the world in order to be hanging out this much. he makes his voice whiny before speaking, “i miss you, please don’t leave me forever.”

you laugh at the sound of his voice, pulling your legs away from him. “you’re acting like me spending time with jungwoo is gonna kill you.”

“what’s killing me is the fact i don’t get to see you that much anymore,” he grumbles. 

he notices that you don’t respond right away, and when he goes to look at you, your eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a certain look in your eyes. did he say too much? before he can start panicking, you turn towards him, “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“pretend like you miss me when we already spend a lot of time together. you literally called me up the other night.”

jaehyun lets out a breath, “sorry, but you’re still my friend. i do miss you, i’m jealous that jungwoo gets to see you that much.” although he says it jokingly, there’s definitely truth behind his words. it might not mean much to you, but the fact that jungwoo gets to see you in a way that only jaehyun feels like he deserves, it hurts him.

“i’m gonna tell jungwoo you’re being mean to him,” you huff.

“tell him then,” jaehyun slings an arm around your waist, “let him know that he needs to learn how to share.”

“first of all,” you slide his arm off of you, “don’t say it like that because you make it sound like i’m an object. two, i think you might need to learn how to share.”

he hums, “you were mine first.”

“i was never yours,” you grouch, “you made that clear when you rejected me.”

he can tell you’re joking, but he can feel his blood run cold at your words. it’s a reminder to him that the rejection is still clear in your mind, reminding him just how much he hurt you. it will always be a reminder of how he messed up what could've been a good relationship with you if he just had more time.

he can’t blame you for his own mistake. he can’t.

in the best way he can, he puts his hands together and grovels, “please, can you find it in your kind soul to forgive me?”

you scoff, rightfully so, before grabbing your phone to take a picture of him. you’re quiet for a few moments more, jaehyun knowing that you’re about to post the picture on your instagram story for everyone to see, including jungwoo. he doesn’t want to stop you, equal parts of wanting to show off how you’re hanging out with him and a little bit of embarrassment. 

you set your phone down, placing your hands on top of his, “you can stop. now i kinda just feel bad for you. you do deserve it, though.”

jaehyun doesn’t move, staring at you with a certain look in his eyes. he can tell you right here, he thinks. he’s thought about what he’d say if he were to confess to you almost too much. he’s practiced his lines before, thinking up the perfect way he’d confess. it almost feels right to do it now, clearing his throat and-

your phone buzzes, pulling your attention away from him. he grimaces when you show him the notification. what seems to be jungwoo’s account liking your story, the story that has jaehyun begging for your apology posted on it. you sigh dreamily, “told you he’s funny.”

“not funny when it’s jungwoo.”

“jaehyun!”

you find yourself drinking at jaehyun’s place again.

it’s a slow night, both of you had stressful days. you choose to stay in jaehyun’s kitchen, laughing at unfunny words and pouring more wine for each other as the night rolls on. you didn’t mean to stay over so late, but jaehyun practically begged you to spend some time with him. you were quick to say yes under the guise that all he wanted to do was be with his friend.

before the night went too deep, you texted jungwoo saying that you probably won’t be able to call him tonight. he responds quick, a have fun! and i hope you sleep well :) flashing on your screen. you smile warmly at the messages, but quickly notice jaehyun also staring at them. you push at his shoulders, whining over how he’s invading your privacy.

his cheeks are rosy from the wine, a sly smile on his face as he asks, “how am i not supposed to look when i see you smiling like that.”

“you’re supposed to be a good friend and support me in my times of need!”

he puts his hands up in defense, that annoying smile still looking back at you, “thank you for being so vulnerable around me. and who’s to say i don’t support you in your times of need?”

you hear the double meaning in his words, swatting him away, “hey! you’re actually so gross.”

he just chuckles at your words, enjoying how easily you get embarrassed at his teasing. it’s been happening more often, and jaehyun can’t help but piece together that it might be because of jungwoo. jaehyun feels that you might be slipping away right in front of him, and he can’t really do anything to stop it.

you aren’t completely unaware of jaehyun trying to get you to hang out with him. he’s been sending more texts recently, nothing really important being said. you’re not sure how obvious you’re being with jungwoo, but you’re sure that jaehyun has at least an inkling on how you feel about him. which leads you to believe that jaehyun might be a little jealous.

it was never your intention to make him jealous. that night when you first saw jungwoo again was all unplanned. you never thought you would end up talking to him, never thought you’d like the way he treated you. he was so sweet to you, always trying to take care of your every need when prompted.

it’s bad to compare, but you realize that jaehyun’s only being so nice to you now is because jungwoo’s being nice to you. 

that’s not to say that jaehyun was never not nice to you, but you could tell that it’s a different kind of nice when it comes to him. the relationship you have with jaehyun now feels more like a bandaid to cover all of the bad things that have happened, no one bothering to address it. you don’t want to either way, no use in bringing up what shouldn’t be talked about.

even now, as you’re here with him in his kitchen, feeling the cold air from the open window drift in, there’s unspoken words between the two of you. you can hear the music playing from his speakers in the other room, the melody sticking in your head. it’s weird to think that you would’ve never gotten to see jaehyun like this if you didn’t stay with him.

it’s quiet for a few moments, apart from jaehyun humming along to the song that’s playing. it’s dark, his warm lights low as they cover the both of you. it’s nice like this, a little drunk and a little quiet; you don’t have to think about anything you don’t want to. you don’t think before you speak, “i do miss you, too, you know.” 

“yeah?”

“you’re still someone i appreciate, even after everything.”

he doesn’t respond, and you think he’s taking in your words. you’re not sure why you didn’t specify ‘friend’ but you know he knows better than to have his hopes up anymore. you see that the tips of his ears are pink, the lazy smile on his face showing that he’s a bit tipsy too. he’s not looking at you, you’re not really sure what he’s thinking-

“i think… i think i love you.”

“what?”

his eyes immediately snap to yours, widening as he realizes what slipped out of his mouth. slightly panicking, he stands up, trying to backtrack, “no, i- look-”

“what did you say?”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it-”

“what does that even mean? you can’t just randomly say you love me and then take it back?”

he chooses not to answer right away, eyes darting all around as he tries to come up with an answer. he can fix this, he can help himself, it’s just… he doesn’t really want to. it’s almost selfish with how he feels a little relief with his confession. “since you’re asking,” he starts, “i… i like you. i’ve liked you for a while now.”

when he looks at you, the anger from before is still there. you’re biting down on your lip, hands balled at your sides as his words hit you. “jaehyun… do you know how wrong that is? since when? after you rejected me?”

“no, i- fine. yes, after i rejected you. i know it’s wrong and i know i shouldn’t but it clicked for me, even if it was a little late.”

“a little late? jaehyun, you’re telling me this after you know i’m talking to someone. you knew that there’d be a high chance that i wouldn’t feel the same. i know you’re not that dumb.”

“but that’s how you felt when you asked me out? even if there was a chance that i would say no to you, you still did it, right? that’s exactly how i feel, how bad would it be if i tried?”

a shocked laugh leaves you, “that isn’t fair! you’re not being fair! you’re not thinking about how i would feel knowing this!”

you think he knows that it’s not the same between you and him. you confessed because you genuinely thought you had a chance with him. jaehyun’s only confessing because you’re talking to jungwoo. 

“i should’ve never let this happen! fuck, i knew if i kept talking to you, something bad would happen.”

he scoffs, wanting to call out your bluff. “i never forced you to come over and talk. you weren’t forced to come over and have sex with me. you could’ve stopped this at any time, but you kept coming back to me.”

you let out an exasperated sound, “we were friends, jaehyun. friends hang out and talk, that’s literally all we were doing.”

he snaps, “friends don’t fuck. friends don’t hold each other after sex. you can’t say that you didn’t feel anything between us. that’s the whole reason i called you for sex the other day, i needed you."

you can hear how loud your heart is pounding in your chest. your head hurts already, the faint song playing in the other room only adding to the pain. there’s nothing more that you want to do than just go home. you wish you could’ve been more clear, you wished you would’ve drawn a clearer line between the two of you. now you’re stuck like this.

you sigh out, mumbling into the quiet air, “if i had known that you were gonna be like this, i would’ve made sure to end whatever we had as soon as possible.”

“if you never met jungwoo, then this probably never would’ve happened. i could’ve asked you out the normal way, but you kind of forced me into drunkenly confessing to you.”

you send a glare straight at him, “do not assume how i would feel in any situation. the fact that you didn’t even want to tell me that you liked me says everything i need to know.”

“how was i supposed to tell the girl i rejected that i like her now?”

“exactly! don’t you see how fucked up that is?”

he shrugs, closing himself off before you can start up again. you know how he gets, pretending that none of this really matters to him. it’s childish, and you know he knows it. you don’t know what else to do. if he can’t sort himself out, there’s no reason for you to be here anymore.

you’re quick to get up and out of the kitchen. he doesn’t look at you at first, but as soon as he hears you pack your stuff into your bag and your car keys in hands, he follows right after you. there’s a startled look on his face, you can tell that he didn’t think you would leave him. you watch as he raises a hand to stop you, but quickly puts it down after some thought.

you let out a breath, “i’m leaving. you can decide if you want to pull yourself together and grow up if you wanna talk. if not, don’t even bother texting me.”

he doesn’t try to argue, watching as you walk out his door. he can’t feel anything, doesn’t really want to do anything other than lay in bed. he walks over to his bedroom, the sound of a familiar slow song getting louder as he walks closer. he makes it inside, pausing the song before laying down onto his back. it’s quiet again.

he just ruined everything.

for the first time in a while, your life feels kinda normal.

there’s not a lot for you to worry about if you ignore a few things. work is fine, your friends are celebrating your freedom, and jungwoo comforts you in every way possible. you realize that jungwoo might’ve been everything you’ve been looking for in a person. he stays close when you need him and gives you space when you ask.

you tell jungwoo that you’re happy to have him right now. you tell him that you’re sorry for acting a little weird recently (he quickly denies your claim). you don’t tell him exactly what happened with jaehyun, but you can assume he at least knows a little. he doesn’t try to pry it out of you, choosing not to remind you of something you don’t want to think of.

and you’re not thinking about it. you haven’t gotten any texts from jaehyun, so why should you care?

as much as you don’t want to admit it, it does feel weird not having jaehyun in your life. you didn’t realize how much you thought about him or how much time was dedicated to being with him. it didn’t seem to matter at first because you thought it was because you both were friends, but you realize he was kind of stringing you along.

there’s a lot of time you have to yourself now. you don’t have to worry about jaehyun calling you randomly throughout the day or one of his spontaneous meetups. you don’t have to think about his you up? texts during the late hours of the night. you don’t have to think about any hurt he’s caused you in the past. none of it will mean anything anymore.

until you get a call from johnny.

“hey, johnny. what’s up?”

he skips right past your greeting, “why doesn’t jaehyun want to hang out with you?”

you’re shocked for multiple reasons. one, of course, johnny already knows your business. two, how dare jaehyun say he doesn’t want to hang out with you. you scoff, “what exactly did he say?”

“he said he was busy, but, like i know he’s not gonna be busy. and that obviously means that something is going on between you two.”

you want to scream into your phone’s microphone. jaehyun doesn’t deserve to set the boundary between you two. he was the one who messed it up in the first place, so why is he the one trying to put distance between you two? “johnny,” you start, “do you promise not to tell anyone about what i’m about to tell you? you can’t even tell jaehyun.”

he lets out a little shocked sound and you can imagine him sitting up straight. he whispers into the call, “what is it?”

“the other night, jaehyun told me he likes me. actually, in his own words, he said he thinks he loves me.”

he gasps loudly into the phone, “what? are you sure? like jaehyun said that? jaehyun?”

“exactly! it doesn’t even seem like something he’d do! he said it was because we were both drinking.”

“that doesn’t even matter,” johnny sighs, “you don’t go around saying that to your friend, especially not the friend you rejected before.”

“you get it! that’s literally what i told him! i need to sit down with you so we can discuss this.”

it’s quiet on the other side of the call, and by his silence, you can tell he’s planning something. it’s never good when he does, so you try to call out his name before he can think any more, but you’re too late.

“i think you should sit down with him to talk about what happened.”

you sarcastically laugh, “he hasn’t even texted me, there’s no way i’m talking to him first.”

“i didn’t say you should text him first, i’m just saying that you both should talk. you can’t just leave this off on bad terms.”

“and if i want to?”

“i know you don’t. plus, it feels like i’m a child whose parents are going through divorce, so you need to fix this.”

you whine into the phone, which causes johnny to laugh on the other end. he’s right, you don’t want this to end badly with jaehyun. even if you both decide to never talk again, you don’t want to have a strained relationship with him. after a few moments, you answer him, “fine, but don’t have your hopes up because even i don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

“okay, perfect, because i already kinda convinced jaehyun to meet up with you.”

“johnny!”

he defends himself, “like i said, i’m basically seeing you guys go through a divorce. please bring my family back together.”

“whatever, do what you want to do.” johnny cheers from the other end of the call, quickly letting out an you won’t be disappointed! before he hangs up, not even letting you say goodbye. as much as you try to hide it, a part of you is happy at the thought of jaehyun wanting to work things out with you.

even if you don’t know what you want just yet, you’ll get yourself ready.

you realize you’re no longer happy when a few days later, jaehyun shows up to your front doorstep, a frown painted on his face.

you almost want to slam the door on him when he speaks. his voice is quiet, “why did you tell johnny you didn’t want to hang out with me?”

as soon as he stops talking, it all clicks in your head. johnny tricked you both. you’ll have to get mad at him later, but for right now, you have to deal with jaehyun who’s pretending he didn’t just ignore you for almost two weeks. you reluctantly let him in, watching as he walks in almost too normally.

no one bothers talking, no one trying to make the first move. you’re staring him down and he tries to ignore the hard stare you’re giving him. while you’re glaring at him, you can see how he looks more tired than usual. the faint lines under his eyes give it away, and when he does finally make eye contact with you, it’s soft, no anger behind his eyes.

you step back, breathing in before speaking, “let’s go talk in my room.”

he sends you a soft smile, not needing you to guide him to your room. he knows the whole layout by now, feeling more like he’s leading you to your own room. he opens the door for you, choosing to let you walk in first. it’s awkward when you have to motion for him to step in, watching him not really knowing what to do.

you move to sit on your bed, and he moves to sit at your desk. it’s not as awkward as it is tense. you don’t know what to say, you didn’t plan on him coming over. his eyes are darting across your room, his eyebrows furrowed as he presumably tries to start the conversation.

“how are you doing?”

you roll your eyes at the simple question, “i’ve been doing fine. i feel like my life’s been a lot calmer since that day.”

he leans forward in his seat, “really? i feel like i’ve lost ten years of my life.”

deserved, you think. you gather all your thoughts before speaking, “i think the days that i spent without thinking about you really changed how i feel. i realized just how much i was entangled in your life. it wasn’t good for me.”

he looks off to the side, taking in your words. you see the hurt that settles in his face, you see how it’s going to be burned into his memory. he smacks his lips, “i think for me it’s the opposite. i realized during this time without you really solidified my feelings. i can’t lie and say that my feelings have changed, because they haven’t.”

you feel anger bubbling up inside you, but you can’t do that today. you take a few breaths, calming yourself down as you focus on what you’re most curious about, “why did you start liking me?”

“i don’t even know. i know it’s shitty of me to realize how much you mean to me after i said no to your confession. i understand why you said no to me.”

“i’m sorry for getting mad so quickly. it was just so out of the blue, i never would’ve expected you to say that.”

you pat the spot on your bed next to you, calling his name softly. he slowly moves to your side, his eyes focused on his hands splayed across his knees. after all this time without you, he wishes he could hold your hand in his, even if he tried to play it off as a joke. it’s been too long without your touch. you took away the only thing that kept him close to you. 

“can i ask something?”

he nods, putting all of his focus on you. it feels intense when he does, you haven’t had him this close in a long time. you clear your throat, “this wasn’t all because of jungwoo, right?”

he sighs, his jaw clenching as he thinks of the right words to say. he’s deep in thought, and you almost want to tell him to drop it all together. he decides to speak up, “honestly? seeing you both together kind of made me realize my feelings. i was losing you to him, and i really couldn’t handle it. i’m not trying to ruin whatever you have going on with him, i promise.”

you don’t know what else to say. so much of this could've been prevented if you kept an eye out for yourself. you also wouldn’t want to go back and change what you’ve done. you don’t regret ever being jaehyun’s friend, you don’t regret all the memories you’ve made with him. 

“so, this… this is really over then?”

you shrug, “i would think so.”

it’s quiet for a few moments, the both of you letting the thought seep in. “this” has never been defined between the two of you, but you can assume it’s almost everything you do together. what you’re feeling now is close to how you felt when he first rejected you. what’s different now is that you can’t help but feel just a little relieved, ending something that probably should’ve never happened.

in another world, you think you would’ve reciprocated jaehyun’s feelings. it would’ve been easy, pieces easily falling into place as you both fall for each other. it’s almost as if it were supposed to be something that was natural. but jaehyun had given the time for you to move on, and you did. it was too late for him to realize his own feelings.

“we can still be friends if you can handle that.”

he laughs incredulously, “if i can handle that? i’m a grown man, thank you very much.”

“yeah? well i think if i were you, i wouldn’t be able to hold back my feelings,” you tease.

he grumbles, “too soon, you’re too mean.”

jaehyun watches a pretty smile adorn your face, and if it weren’t for the current circumstances, he would tell you how pretty you look. he keeps the thought to himself though, opting to ask, “how about one last drink together as friends who are a little more than friends?”

you hum, pretending to think about it. you watch worry wash over his face, and you do feel bad a little bit. “one more time, just for your sake. you look like you might start crying.”

he groans as you walk away to get some wine for the both of you. you’re by yourself for a few moments as you pour the drinks. you feel awkward in here by yourself, left with thoughts and memories of all the things you’ve done together. all the times you’ve had sex, all the times where he’s felt like your boyfriend, but none of it holds to him being your friend.

you don’t know if you can continue being friends with him. 

it would be unfair to jungwoo. you haven’t told him the exact dynamics of how your friendship with jaehyun worked, but you can assume he knows most of it. 

you return to the sight of jaehyun looking around your room. he’s been in here too many times to count, and yet seeing him here now, it’s weird. he feels out of place, he feels almost like a stranger in your own apartment. despite the history you have with him, it seemed to fall apart so easily as soon as conflict hit.

he thanks you quietly when you hand him the glass. you take a small sip of your drink, watching jaehyun do the same from the corner of your eye. after the drink, he chooses to speak, “so how are you and jungwoo?’

“that’s how you want to start our small talk?” you splutter out.

“i mean, can i not be interested in my friends' love life?”

well it’s hard when you were directly involved in it. you shrug, taking another small sip before speaking, “i’m… really happy that i’m talking to him. he takes care of me, he’s always asking how i’m doing. it’s nice being with him.”

you can tell jaehyun is trying not to let your words affect him, “are you both… officially dating yet?”

his words make you shy, your facing feeling hot at the idea of dating jungwoo. brushing off his words, you laugh, “no! not yet, at least. i think i’d say yes if he asked me out.”

he nods, his head hanging heavy, hand twirling the wine in his glass. you know what he’s thinking, you don’t need to ask him. you can’t be his, you won’t ever be his. you think that this was never supposed to work out, no matter how hard you tried or how much you think he could’ve loved you. he wasn’t meant for you.

“okay, one more thing.”

he nods, turning his attention back on you.

“did you really mean it back then, like, when you said that you weren’t ready for a relationship?”

“yes, i was scared. i think back then, even though i didn’t realize it, i also had feelings for you. but it was… it just wasn’t the right time for me. even though i liked spending so much time with you, there were things i wanted to figure out first.”

you cock your head to the side, “like?”

he hums in thought for a bit, trying to remember times from so long ago. thinking back, you remember how you felt old, you felt like you were already an adult. but he’s right, there were still things you didn’t know about yourself, and you wonder if dating jaehyun would’ve stopped you from figuring them out.

“i guess… mostly wanting to decide what i wanted to do with my life. now that i’ve somewhat settled, i feel more confident in what i want. even though it came at the worst time, i was so sure that i could see you in my future.”

the confession doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. you can relate to how he feels. for the longest time, you felt that you needed jaehyun in your life. it wasn’t until after he confessed to you that you saw that there’s more to your life than him. you’re thankful for all the time you’ve had with him, but there’s still so much more for you to do.

it’s like this for a few more hours, the sunset bleeding into the night time. you both have a few more drinks, jaehyun eventually turns on music playing on his phone. you feel a lot better now. you only want the best for jaehyun, and you think that this is the best for the both of you.

jaehyun has to leave at some point, one of the last buses back to his place coming soon. you don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to leave the comfort of your bedroom. there’s a small part of you that’s scared that you’ll never see him here again. you try to remind him that this is what you both need, clear, distinct boundaries.

you walk him to your door, “you’ll text me once you're at your apartment, right?”

he shuffles over, “yeah, i will. johnny will make sure i get there safe.”

you nod, opening the door for him. he walks out, watching you with an unsure look on his face. a part of you wants to let him in, wants to let him give you one last kiss. it’s wrong, your grip on your door getting tighter at the thought. he still has a strong pull on you, your hand wanting to reach for his.

it’s not meant to be.

“goodnight, jaehyun. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“alright, goodnight. i… i’ll be here if you ever need me. i’ll wait.”

you smile, “i know. thank you, get back safe.”

he nods, waving you off before he walks away. you close the door, locking it behind you. it’s quiet now, no soft conversations, no laughing, just the sound of your feet pattering on the floor. 

you don’t really feel like crying. you don’t feel like there’s something missing inside you. jaehyun used to be a big part of you, but as time went on, he took up less and less space.

there’s more important things to worry about than someone who couldn’t make time for you. you have time to figure things out now, you have time to figure out what you really want, whether that’s jungwoo or someone else. 

you’ve never felt better. 

as jaehyun scrolls through instagram, he sees a post from you. it’s been a while since he’s seen you in person, so he’ll take anything he can get. the first few photos are of you, and the next few are pictures of things he assumes you found pretty. the last photo is what makes him pause, a photo of what he can only assume is jungwoo holding your hand.

he checks the comments, some of your friends replying with different emojis, all to tease you with. they all seem to know about your budding relationship with jungwoo. jaehyun’s glad that it’s going well for the both of you. it’s what you deserve after what he put you through.

he hung out with you and johnny the other day. as much as everyone tried to be normal, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he changed the dynamics of your friendship. you and johnny were the same, easily laughing and joking around with each other. it’s not exactly awkward when you and jaehyun talk, but the air around you is certainly different.

it’s what should’ve happened, at the start of it all you both should’ve set rules. jaehyun realizes that he would’ve never gotten to see you in the ways he did. warm lights from his kitchen painting over your skin, or when the light from the moon would shine over your body while he holds you close. he wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.

you were all he had, and losing you is something he will always regret. he knows that you’re doing good now, not just with jungwoo. he doesn’t want to come in and ruin what you’ve built up. it doesn’t matter how much he wants to hold you in his arms or kiss you, you’re better off without him.

he just wishes he had more time.

a/n: hey people... what did we think of this ending... jaehyun is my friend i do not hate him i like him... anyways i hoped u like this... it took longer than i thought it would but im glad its out HOORAYYY

taglist: @froggyforyoongi @the-universe-in-you-jjh @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @haechology @jaehyunful @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @diorcities @hrts4doie @ohmytyong @ecvm5236 @faeryus @riri4andy @rjtulips @missesgirl @shiorebirth @sugaringgcaramel @camomillie @ninicornposts @il02isa @sincerelyneo @perfumejamal @justhgiwo @lovingyoulovinme2 @babyriannie @eunseoksimp @jeonreal @mawnehkah @shoetaroshoe (thank u all omg 🫂❤️)

[reidmarieprentiss]

Textual Tension

Summary: You accidentally send a very suggestive text to your awkward coworker, and he replies...

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, awkward tension

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: has anyone ever sent a sext to the wrong person?? i've only ever sent them to my friends on accident and for that i am so thankful

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), mild breast play, soft dom spencer

You sit on your bed, the soft glow of your phone illuminating your face as you type out a rather suggestive message to the person you've been casually hooking up with. A smirk tugs at your lips as you hit send, confident that the message will hit its mark. 

I've been thinking about you… Can't stop imagining what I'd do if you were here right now. I want to feel your hands all over me, the way you’d make me moan… Let’s make fantasy a reality?

But within seconds, your heart stops as you realize the terrible mistake you've just made.

You’ve sent the message to Spencer.

Spencer.

Your coworker. The brilliant, kind, and awkwardly charming genius who you’ve always had a friendly, professional relationship with. And, of course, the one who has been harboring a massive, secret crush on you. A fact that, unbeknownst to you, has led to countless daydreams and wishes that you might feel the same.

The blood drains from your face as you stare at your phone, horrified, praying that somehow the message didn’t actually go through, or maybe, just maybe, Spencer won’t read it and will simply delete it. But you know better—Spencer is meticulous about everything. Of course, he’ll read it. You’re absolutely mortified, every worst-case scenario flashing through your mind.

Meanwhile, in his apartment, Spencer is settling down with a cup of tea, ready to dive into the book he’s been reading. When his phone buzzes, he picks it up absentmindedly, assuming it’s just a work-related message or something mundane. But as he reads the words on the screen, his eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat.

His thoughts run wild, heart pounding as he rereads the text, each time wondering if it could possibly be real. Could you, the person he’s admired from afar for so long, actually want him in the way he’s secretly yearned for? The idea is intoxicating, and before he can second-guess himself, he responds with a message that matches your energy, his pulse quickening at the boldness of it.

Wow… I didn’t know you were into me like that. I’ve been thinking about you too. If you want, we can definitely make that happen.

The moment you see his reply, your stomach drops. You can't believe this is happening. You’re completely mortified, your mind spinning with the implications. How could you ever face him again? You don’t respond, the fear and embarrassment paralyzing you, leaving you in a state of panic.

The next day at work, you’re a bundle of nerves. Every step you take towards the bullpen feels like you’re walking to your own doom. When you finally arrive, you try to act normal, but the tension is palpable. You can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with Spencer, every interaction feeling like it’s laced with the humiliation of last night’s mistake.

Spencer, on the other hand, is caught in a whirlwind of emotions. At first, he’s elated, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you were into him. But as the day drags on and you remain distant, the excitement turns to confusion, then a sharp sting of rejection. Did he misread the situation? Was it all just a mistake? He’s left feeling awkward and exposed, unsure of where he stands with you now.

—

The tension between you and Spencer had become a nearly tangible thing, a thread pulled taut between the two of you, ready to snap at any moment. At first, your glances in his direction were purely out of necessity—quick, fleeting looks to gauge his mood, to see if he was as affected by this as you were. But as the days passed, those glances became more frequent, more lingering.

It started innocently enough. You’d look over and notice how effortlessly his hair seemed to fall into place, the soft waves framing his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal. You’d never paid much attention before, but now you couldn’t help but admire how it suited him, how it added to his charm.

Then, it was his forearms. You’d catch him pushing up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, revealing the sinewy strength beneath the fabric. There was something about the casual way he did it, the way the muscles in his arms flexed ever so slightly as he worked, that made your heart skip a beat. It was such a simple thing, but it had a profound effect on you, stirring something deep within.

And then there was the way he licked his lips when he was focused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he concentrated on whatever task was in front of him. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his attention focused solely on you, to feel the intensity of that gaze as he looked at you, not with confusion or uncertainty, but with desire.

The more you noticed these little things, the more conflicted you became. This was Spencer—sweet, brilliant, and awkward Spencer. The idea of seeing him in a different light had never really crossed your mind before, but now… now it was all you could think about. The memory of his bold response to your accidental text played on a loop in your mind, taunting you with the possibilities.

What if you responded? What if you stopped overthinking everything and just… saw where it could go? The idea terrified you, but it also excited you in a way you hadn’t expected. There was something thrilling about the thought of exploring this new dynamic, of seeing if there was something more between you and Spencer than just a shared workspace.

You found yourself daydreaming about it, wondering how he would react if you sent him a message, if you matched the energy of his reply. Would he be as nervous as you were, or would he surprise you with a confidence you hadn’t seen before? The thought of it made your pulse quicken, a flush of warmth spreading through you.

But with the excitement came doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were reading too much into things, and responding to his text would only make the situation worse? The fear of making things awkward again, of possibly ruining your work life further, held you back. Yet, the thought of doing nothing felt like a missed opportunity, like you were letting something potentially amazing slip through your fingers.

As the day dragged on, you found it harder and harder to focus on your work. Every time you saw Spencer, every time you noticed another little detail about him that you hadn’t before, the urge to reach out grew stronger. It was like there was a tug-of-war going on inside you, with one side urging you to take the risk and see what could happen, and the other holding you back out of fear.

Finally, as the workday was winding down, you made a decision. Maybe you were overthinking this—maybe it was time to just go for it and see what came of it. After all, Spencer had responded positively, hadn’t he? There was a chance, a real chance, that he felt something for you too, something more than just a workplace friendship.

Sitting on your couch with your heart pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you debated what to say. You didn’t want to be too forward, but you also didn’t want to be vague. After a few moments of contemplation, you typed out a message, your hands trembling slightly as you reread it.

Hey, about that text… Maybe we should talk. Or… you know, not just talk. If you’re still interested.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as you watched the message deliver. There was no going back now.

The rest of the evening was a blur of anxiety and anticipation. You couldn’t stop thinking about what his response might be, what it could mean for the two of you. When your phone finally buzzed with a new message, you hesitated for just a moment before opening it.

I’m definitely interested. Let’s talk… or not just talk, whenever you’re ready.

The words were simple, but they held so much promise. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you read them, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding your senses. This was happening. You and Spencer were about to cross a line, to explore something new and thrilling.

Just as you were contemplating what to say, how to navigate this sudden and unexpected turn in your relationship, another notification lit up your screen.

Come over? Now?

The message was short, simple, and completely electrifying. It sent a jolt through your system, leaving you momentarily speechless. The implications of it were clear—Spencer wasn’t just thinking about this; he was ready to act on it, to turn this accidental confession into something real and immediate.

Your mind raced as you considered what to do next. Just minutes ago, you were agonizing over whether or not to even respond, and now he was inviting you over, as if the decision had already been made. The sheer boldness of his message left you breathless, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like—showing up at his place, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all day. The thought of being alone with him, of crossing that line from coworkers to something more, sent a thrill through you.

You took a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. This was a pivotal moment, and whatever you decided now would set the course for what happened next.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal debate, you typed out a response, your heart racing as you hit send.

I'll be there in 20 minutes.

—

You parked outside Spencer’s apartment building, your heart racing as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. The 20-minute drive had been filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—excitement, anticipation, and a lingering thread of uncertainty. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect when you arrived, especially considering how different Spencer had seemed over text compared to how he usually was in person. The Spencer you knew was shy, adorably awkward, and hesitant when it came to personal matters. But his texts had shown a side of him that was bold, confident, and unafraid to take charge.

As you approached his door, your nerves started to get the better of you, but there was no turning back now. You lifted your hand to knock, hesitating for just a moment before finally letting your knuckles rap against the wood. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity, your mind racing with possibilities of how this night could unfold.

When the door finally opened, you were taken aback by the sight that greeted you. Spencer stood there, shirtless, the soft glow of his apartment’s light highlighting the lean lines of his torso. He wore nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants, the waistband slung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the defined muscles and trail of hair beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it moments before opening the door, and his eyes, usually filled with a mix of curiosity and gentle kindness, now held a smoldering intensity that you had never seen before.

For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. This wasn’t the Spencer you were used to—this was the man who had responded to your accidental text with a confidence that had both surprised and intrigued you. The awkward, hesitant Spencer you knew seemed to have taken a backseat, making way for someone who knew exactly what he wanted.

And what he wanted, it seemed, was you.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. There was a heat in his gaze, a silent challenge that dared you to step inside, to see just how far this newfound confidence could take him.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m glad you came.”

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there like that—so effortlessly confident, so unapologetically enticing—made it difficult to think of anything but the rush of desire that was quickly building within you.

“Hey,” you managed to reply, your voice a little breathless. “You… uh, look different.”

Spencer’s smile widened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped aside to let you in. “Well I should hope so,” he said, his tone teasing, but with an underlying seriousness that sent your heart racing even faster.

You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of his apartment wrap around you as the door clicked shut behind you. The atmosphere between you was charged, electric, every moment filled with unspoken possibilities. Spencer moved closer, his presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. The scent of him—a mix of something clean and masculine—filled your senses, making you even more acutely aware of the heat radiating from his skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” Spencer began, his voice soft yet steady, as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “About what was said...”

Your breath hitched at the light touch, your skin tingling where his fingers had just been. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that your voice might betray just how much his presence was affecting you.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “But I also don’t want to pretend that nothing’s changed… because it has.”

He was right—everything had changed. The air between you was thick with tension, with the unspoken acknowledgment of what you both wanted but were too nervous to voice. And yet, here he was, standing so close, shirtless and confident, laying it all out in front of you.

Taking a deep breath, you finally found your voice. “So… what happens next?”

Spencer’s lips quirked up into a small, almost mischievous smile. “I think that depends on what you want.”

His words hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation all at once. You could feel the pull, the magnetic attraction drawing you closer to him, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.

With a boldness you hadn’t known you possessed, you stepped even closer, your body nearly brushing against his as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “I want to find out what happens when we stop pretending.”

The last remnants of hesitation melted away as Spencer’s smile turned into something more—something hungry and determined. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips descended on yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was fierce, consuming, a release of all the tension that had been building between you.

As his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer still, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you had only begun to scratch the surface of the side of Spencer Reid you were about to discover tonight.

The world around you blurred as Spencer’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with every passing second. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourself in the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the way his hands gripped your waist with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. It felt like you had been kissing for an eternity, and yet when he finally pulled back, you found yourself gasping for breath, your mind spinning, and your body aching for more.

Spencer’s eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a heat that made your pulse quicken. Without saying a word, he took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, leading you down the hall towards his bedroom. The anticipation thrummed in your veins, every step heightening the tension between you. But just as you reached the doorway, Spencer suddenly stopped, turning to press you against the doorframe. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses that made your knees weaken and your breath hitch.

You barely had time to process the sensation before he pulled back again, a playful gleam in his eyes as he gently but firmly guided you into the bedroom. With a swift motion, he pushed you onto the bed, and you bounced slightly, a surprised giggle escaping your lips. The unexpected shift in his demeanor—this newfound confidence, this playful dominance—left you both intrigued and a little off-balance. You’d known Spencer as the quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy genius, but this side of him was something entirely different, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by it.

As you lay there, still trying to wrap your head around this change, you found yourself blurting out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot, Reid?”

Spencer chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. He shook his head with a smile that was equal parts reassuring and teasing. “No, not ever really,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady, as he reached for your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment.

“Call me Spencer,” he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was something intimate about the way he said it, as if this wasn’t just about physical attraction, but about letting you see a side of him that no one else had. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the request, the simple act of calling him by his first name in this context making the moment feel even more personal, more real. 

“Spencer,” you repeated, the name slipping from your lips like a secret, a promise. His smile widened, a spark of something almost wicked flashing in his eyes, and you realized that you were about to discover a side of him that you’d never imagined existed.

Spencer leaned in, his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve been wanting this for a long time, you know. I just never thought…” He trailed off, as if realizing that words weren’t enough to express what he was feeling. Instead, he captured your lips with his again, his kiss searing and insistent, as though he were making up for lost time.

Spencer's hands, warm and steady, slowly trailed up your sides, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of your t-shirt as they moved. When he reached the hem, he hesitated, his touch gentle but deliberate as he curled his fingers around the edge. He looked up at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness, but there was something else too—a careful consideration, a need to ensure that you were just as willing as he was.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his eyes searching yours for the reassurance he needed.

For a moment, you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he looked at you, with such raw want and yet so much care, made it hard to think clearly. You nodded quickly, your eyes wide with anticipation, but Spencer didn’t move.

His grip on your shirt tightened slightly as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to need you to use your words, sweetheart.”

The way he said it—his voice rough, almost gritted out with barely restrained desire—made your head spin, the sheer force of his need for you sending your pulse into overdrive. There was a command in his tone, but also a gentle reminder that this was your choice, that he needed to hear you say it.

You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to find the words. The air around you felt thick with tension, every second stretching out as you stared up at him, the look in his eyes making it impossible to deny him—or yourself.

“Ye—yes, please,” you finally managed to say, your voice a little breathless, but full of the same want that you saw reflected in his eyes.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at your response, a small, almost predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he began to lift your shirt. The fabric slid up your torso slowly, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as he revealed more of you. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside.

For a brief moment, you felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. But the way Spencer looked at you, with a mixture of awe and hunger, made all your insecurities melt away. His hands roamed over the newly exposed skin, his touch both soothing and electrifying, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity and desire, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your collarbone, his lips lingering against your skin.

You had forgone a bra that night, thinking nothing of it when you slipped into your comfy clothes after a long day at work. After all, you hadn’t planned on anything like this happening. But now, with Spencer’s hands on you, his eyes filled with something that looked a lot like awe, you found that you didn’t care in the slightest. If anything, it added to the intimacy of the moment, the rawness of it, making you feel closer to him than you ever thought possible.

His touch was slow, deliberate, almost as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction he elicited from you. His fingers brushed over your skin, exploring you with curiosity and desire, as if he was trying to learn every detail, every response, to what he was doing. When his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body arching towards him instinctively, craving more of his touch.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it felt like a confession. There was something in his name, in the way it rolled off your tongue, that made the moment feel even more intimate, more real. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was a declaration, an acknowledgment of what was happening between you, of the connection that was quickly forming.

Spencer’s eyes flicked back up to yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. There was something almost primal in the way he looked at you now, a hunger that was barely restrained, but also a tenderness that made your chest tighten with emotion. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… how long I’ve wanted you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the sheer weight of them. It wasn’t just lust in his voice—it was something deeper, something that made you feel cherished, desired in a way that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The realization that Spencer had been holding back, that he had wanted you for so long, made your heart swell with emotion, your need for him growing even stronger.

He kissed you again, his lips capturing yours in a way that was both gentle and demanding, his hands continuing their exploration of your body. Each touch, each caress, was filled with passion and care, as if he was trying to show you just how much you meant to him without needing to say the words. And with every kiss, every brush of his fingertips, you found yourself falling deeper into the moment, your own desire for him becoming overwhelming.

You reached up, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat of his body against yours. The way he responded, the way his hands gripped you tighter, as if afraid to let go, made it clear that he was just as lost in the moment as you were. There was no more hesitation, no more awkwardness—just the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Spencer’s hands were warm against your skin as he gently laid you back on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he hovered above you. The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming, his pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe even a hint of vulnerability. His fingers trailed down your sides, the touch sending shivers through your body as he slowly leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest.

“Tell me, Y/N…” His voice was a low murmur, filled with an edge of something deeper, as he kissed his way down your chest, taking his time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his lips. “Did you think about me too?”

The question hung in the air, making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his kisses igniting a fire deep within you. Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on high alert as you felt his breath ghost over your skin, his lips moving lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“I did,” you admitted, your voice a little breathless as the confession slipped out. It was the truth, after all—you had thought about him, more than you ever wanted to admit. The idea of Spencer, sweet, awkward Spencer, being the one to push you to this point had always been a secret fantasy, buried deep within you. But now, with him here, in this moment, it was no longer just a fantasy—it was real.

Spencer’s lips curved into a smirk against your skin as he reached your hip, his teeth nipping playfully at the delicate flesh, making you gasp. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and surprise, and you couldn’t help but arch your back slightly in response. His hands moved to your shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband as he tugged them down slowly, teasingly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he did.

“That text wasn’t for me though, was it?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched your reaction. The smirk on his face was something you’d never seen before—confident, almost cocky, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as the realization hit you. You hadn’t expected him to catch on to that detail, but of course he had—Spencer was nothing if not observant. The thought that he knew the text wasn’t meant for him, but was still here, still wanting you, made your pulse quicken even more.

“Uh, no, it wasn’t,” you admitted with a whine, the words slipping out before you could stop them. There was no point in lying—not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze full of heat and understanding. “But I’m glad I sent it to you,” you added quickly, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation.

Spencer’s smirk softened into a small, almost tender smile as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your navel. “Maybe your subconscious wanted you to,” he suggested, his voice low and smooth, each word making your head spin. The idea made you dizzy, the thought that some part of you had always wanted this, had always wanted him, even if you hadn’t fully realized it until now.

“Uh huh,” you breathed out, your voice floaty and airy, your mind clouded with desire. The sensation of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly. All you could focus on was the way he made you feel—alive, wanted, and completely lost in the moment.

Spencer’s fingers continued to work on removing your shorts, sliding them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he was savoring every second, every inch of skin he revealed.

As he finally discarded your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him, he took a moment to just look at you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and admiration. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

The words made your heart swell, a wave of warmth washing over you as you reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was nothing left to hide now, nothing left to hold back. This was exactly where you wanted to be—where you were meant to be.

“Do you always skip out on bras and panties, Y/N?” Spencer’s teasing comment sent a ripple of laughter through you, the sound mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. The playful banter between you only intensified the electric connection that was already sparking between you both. His bite on your inner thigh was both a tease and a promise, igniting a fire that made every nerve in your body come alive.

“N–no, only at home,” you managed to scream out, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The combination of his touch and the vulnerability of the moment made it impossible to hold back any longer.

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, echoing softly in the room as his fingers continued to explore your skin. “But you didn’t put any on before coming over?” His tone was light, yet there was an undeniable edge of desire that underpinned his words.

You took a moment to catch your breath, the playful challenge in his eyes urging you to respond. “Are you–are you complaining?” you asked, your voice wavering between breathless laughter and the growing urgency of your emotions.

Spencer shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Not at all, although–” His sentence was cut short as your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him fully into you. The sudden, decisive movement left no room for hesitation, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, entwined in each other’s embrace.

“Oh my god, Spencer, just shut up,” you laughed, the sound filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Put your mouth to use.”

His response was immediate, his lips finding your core with a fervor that matched the intensity of your own longing. The way he ate you out was everything you had been waiting for—passionate, deep, and downright filthy. His hands left their place on your thighs, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that made you feel both cherished and desired.

As he sunk his mouth deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, Spencer guided you gently but firmly onto the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you.

“Spencer,” you moaned, the name slipping out like a sacred vow, sealing the moment between you. His response was a dirty smile, his mouth shining with your juices, making your pulse throb.

He paused for a moment, just enough to look into your eyes, “You’re fucking delicious,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

As Spencer’s mouth continued to work its magic on your core, a whirlwind of sensations overwhelmed you. Each touch, each stroke of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything but the intense feeling of being completely consumed by him. The way he moved, so skilled yet so attentive to your every reaction, left you breathless, your hands clutching at the sheets as your head swam in a sea of ecstasy.

But amidst the pleasure, a fleeting thought crossed your mind—how close you had come to letting this moment, this incredible opportunity, slip through your fingers. You couldn’t believe that you had almost dismissed the idea of responding to his bold text, that you had almost let fear and hesitation keep you from experiencing this side of Spencer. A side that was confident, passionate, and utterly devoted to your pleasure.

How could you have been so close to missing out on this? On him? Spencer, who had always been there, quiet and thoughtful, had somehow managed to unlock a part of you that you hadn’t even known existed—a part that craved the connection and intimacy he was now offering with every caress of his lips.

You let out a soft moan, your hips arching towards him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. The sounds you made only seemed to spur him on, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer, his tongue working with a precision that left you teetering on the edge. Every nerve in your body was alive, the world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you, the heat of his breath against your skin.

“Spencer,” you gasped out, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. It wasn’t just the pleasure he was giving you—it was the realization that this was Spencer, the man you had known for so long, who was now showing you a depth of care and passion that you had never imagined.

The way he responded to your every movement, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, made you feel cherished in a way that went far beyond the physical. It was as if he was attuned to your very soul, using his touch to communicate something deeper, something that had been building between you for far longer than either of you had realized.

As you felt the tension within you coil tighter and tighter, ready to snap, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you had fallen into this moment with him. All the hesitation, the uncertainty, had melted away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered connection between you and Spencer. A connection that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to be brought to life.

And now that it had, you knew you could never go back to the way things were. Spencer had opened a door to something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to step through it with him, no matter what the future held.

With a final, skillful flick of his tongue over your clit, Spencer sent you tumbling over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your release. The world around you seemed to dissolve into a haze of pleasure and warmth, your mind barely able to process the overwhelming sensations that flooded through you.

As you came down from the high, Spencer’s hands and mouth softened, his touch becoming gentle, almost reverent, as he coaxed you through the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that left no doubt about how much this moment meant to him. He crawled up the bed to join you, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in a slow, languid kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips.

You smiled against his lips, a sense of contentment and excitement washing over you as you whispered, “I’m glad I’m here too, Spencer. So glad.”

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[2hightocare]

NO NUT NOVEMBER.

Synopsis: Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.

Pairings: dilf!jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings— SMUT! cussing, kind of drunk sex?, dirty talk, anal, squirting, spanking, size kink!!!!, jk is pussy whipped, jk eating you out, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!) rough sex!!, crying from pleasure, hair pulling, fluff at the very end,

a/n: someone lock me the fuck up… this is in the KUWTB universe, jus wanted to get into jk and oc sex life more… enjoy🥹🤍

m.list

“I am not betting a thousand on Jungkook for no nut; November be fucking for real; he’s going to lose twenty minutes in.” Namjoon says knowing his friend and knowing how you have him wrapped around your pinky will have him losing money.

“I can go a whole month without sex, motherfuckers.” Jungkook gasps, running a hand through his wet hair from his previous shower.

It was Halloween night, and the boys just came back from accompanying Iseul and Ye Joon trick or treating down the neighborhood.

“I’m taking my baby to the rich neighborhoods so she can get the full-size candy bars.” Jungkook squeezes Iseul's cheeks, trying to avoid the cute bunny face paint you had drawn on. Your husband, without thinking twice, matched her outfit with the big fluffy bunny ears on the top of his head, bobbing on his head whenever he would move around.

"You literally live in a rich neighborhood.” Ari scolds, sending Jungkook's arm flying up in his defense.

"Trust, I won’t fuck up!” Jungkook defends himself while the boys have a hard time believing him; the boys only sighed before agreeing.

…

 

Jungkook couldn’t do it; his dick immediately hardened as he saw you walking down the stairs in your playboy bunny costume, the small black leather skirt that barely covers your ass, and your black thong visible to everyone. The black long-sleeve crop top and the bunny ears had him stressing and wishing he wouldn’t have made that bet.

“Fuck, you look beautiful, baby." Jungkook wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. His hand lowered to your ass before giving a soft squeeze; you didn’t even bat an eye.

“Thank you, my love.” You give him a quick peck before looking down at his all-black outfit. “You look handsome, daddy,” you wink before walking to the kitchen where Eunbi and Jia were.

You had taken a new habit of calling Jungkook Daddy a joke, and he knew that, but right now the word just worsened the hard problem he has in his pants.

It’s around three in the morning now, and the house is a mess. Iseul is staying with your mother-in-law, who volunteered to take care of her for the night. You were definitely drunk; Ari and Lora came in the house already fucked up, and them being bad influences made you and all the girls take shot after shot, so here you were dancing in your living room as the guys sat on the couch watching you all.

“I think I might owe you all a thousand." Jungkook sighs at his friends. Who’s head snaps at him in shock? “You fucking lost already; are you serious? It's been like three hours!?” Seokjin gasps, and Jimin giggles beside him.

That’s when everyone pulls their wallets and drops wads of cash in Jimin's hands. “I fucking told you he wouldn’t last." Jimin snickers as he counts the money in his hands.

“You guys have no faith in me! I haven’t done anything."Jungkook whispers the last part, "Oh." Jimin says he is disappointed before handing the money back to the corresponding boys.

“Then why do you say that?" Hoseok sighs, putting the hundred back in his wallet before tucking it in his back pocket.

“She’s dressed as a playboy bunny!! A sexy ass playboy bunny.” Jungkook whispers, “Please come on; you would fuck y/n in a garbage bag.” Yoongi says, before sending a signal to Eunbi to stop drinking, to which she only nods 'no', making Yoongi stand up and march her way.

“She would look good in anything—better without anything, actually.” Jungkook says as he sees you down, another shot making him shoot up his seat.

“No more alcohol for you, baby.” He takes the shot glass out of your hands, putting his arm around your waist to keep you stabilized. "Babyyy,” you pout, looking up at him, fisting his shirt, and pulling him closer to your face. 

“What princess?” He says softly, your faces almost touching each other; he can smell the alcohol. “I’m so drunk.” You slur with a goofy smile on your face, gripping onto his shoulders, raising your legs behind you, and reaching for your heel, making you stumble backwards just for Yoongi and Jungkook to stabilize you.

"Yeah, we’re leaving,” Yoongi says as he holds onto Eunbi, who’s slurring a bunch of nonsense, “but I don’t want to leave!" Eunbi whines as Yoongi chuckles as he drags her to the front door.

“We should leave too, then,” all the boys say, standing up and wishing everyone goodbye. “Let’s go, my love,” Taehyung tells Ari, who’s lying on the ground, her police officer outfit long gone, replaced with the big t-shirt you had handed her earlier.

"Nooo, I want to stay with y/n!” She gets picked up by Taehyung, who shushes her with a kiss. “You reek like alcohol,” he chuckles before giving Jungkook a head nod and walking out, Jimin and Namjoon following behind them, being the last ones out, the rest long gone.

Jungkook lays you on the couch, kneeling down, unstrapping your heels, and taking them off before kissing the top of your shin. Making you moan in relief.

“My feet hurt so bad!” You whine loudly before bringing your feet into your chest, making your skirt ride up, giving Jungkook a perfect view of your covered pussy. 

He wanted nothing to open your legs, put your panties aside, and eat you out at that moment, but one, you were drunk, and two, the stupid bet he made yesterday. So instead of doing all that, he stood up and made his way to the main door, locking it before making his way back to you, taking his dirty shirt off in the process.

“You are so hot... Could you maybe have my baby?” You pout, looking up at him, who’s hovering over you with a smile on his face. “You already had my baby, princess.” He chuckles at you, making grabby hands up at him.

“Then another one?” You slur with the goofiest smile on your face as he picks you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his torso as your arms wrap around his neck. “You would slap yourself if you heard yourself right now, baby.” He laughs as you snuggle your face into his neck. 

“If it’s a girl, what would we name her?” You slur your words as Jungkook starts making his way upstairs to your guy's room. “I don’t know, princess, do you know?” He asks you, taking one step at a time. 

“I like Nabi," you giggle. “I like Nabi.” Jungkook repeats after you, giving your puffed-out cheek a wet kiss. “And if it’s a boy, we can name it Junior.” Jungkook suggests entering your guys room.

“Ew no!” You shake your head, sticking your tongue out like you just ate something disgusting. “That’s offensive; you don’t like my name?” Jungkook puts you gently on the bed, crossing his arms in front of him, making his muscles flex as he watches you bite your lip while you look up to him.

“Of course I do. It’s just that’s the name I scream out when I’m getting railed. I don’t want my son to have that name." You shiver from the thought, leaving Jungkook speechless from your boldness.

“Y/n!” He chokes out, "What? I’m being honest!” You slur, trying to put your shirt over your head, only to get stuck with your hands up in the air. “Help me!" you whine.

Your husband laughs immediately, helping you take your shirt off before throwing it somewhere in the room. He watches you struggle to reach behind you to unclip your bra. 

“Turn around, baby; let me help.” He orders, and who are you to say no?

“Mkay,” you say, turning around and letting Jungkook unclip it with his hand, making your bra drop onto the bed. And with that, you fall face-first into the bed. "Yeah, no, get up. We need to brush your teeth and take your makeup off. Come on.” Jungkook picks up your frame as you whine loudly. 

As Jungkook drags you to your guy's shared bathroom in only your skirt, Jungkook sets you up on the sink, and you bring your knees up against you again, making Jungkook want to run into a wall.

Seeing you with your smudge eyeliner and mascara has his thoughts running wild. You are topless, and the tiniest skirt he has ever seen you wear has him imagining how he could bend you over, lift your skirt up, and fuck you raw.

He shakes his thoughts off, getting your light pink toothbrush and lathering it with toothpaste before passing it to you. You lazily brush your teeth with your eyes closed, making small sounds at random times as Jungkook brushes his teeth as well.

“I'm dizzy.. My head is spinning.” You giggle as toothpaste is still in your mouth before spitting it out. Jungkook makes a little bowl with his hand, putting his palm underneath the water and accumulating a good amount before bringing it into your mouth, which you then swish around your mouth before spitting it out into the sink.

“All done," you clap your hands, trying to get off the counter.

“You need to take your makeup off; where are your makeup wipes?” Jungkook asks as he goes through all your skincare and makeup.

“How the fuck do you know what a makeup wipe is?" You slur, your brows furrowing, as you wrap your arms around your legs and up your chest. “Baby what?” Jungkook laughs at your question, knowing he has taken off your makeup countless times before this one.

“I'm mad now.” You pout, pushing your husband's hands off your knees. "Baby, please, I have only taken your makeup off. I promise." Jungkook raises his pinky, which you only glare at.

“Did you fuck her in the legs-up position? Because that’s our position.” You slur once again, making Jungkook chuckle in front of you.

“Baby, trust me, I would not fuck anyone in any position that isn’t you,” he reassures as you stare at his pinky that’s still in the air. “Okay,” you pout in defeat, interlocking your pinky with his.

“You can’t be lying because that’s a pinky promise,” you warn. “Of course, baby,” he says, giving you a kiss on your forehead before opening the small packet. “Be gentle," you whine as you stare at your shirtless boyfriend, who takes a wipeout.

He only nods, holding your neck like a necklace to keep your head straight, and starts taking off your makeup. “I’m hungry,” you say as your eyes flutter closed.

“It’s three in the morning, princess; there's nothing open right now.” Jungkook smiles at your scrunched-up expression. “Did you eat all the cookies?" You peek your eye open. “Maybe..” Jungkook whispers, dropping the dirty wipe in the trash can beside him.

“What! You don’t even share with me anymore.” You mumble as Jungkook picks you up and makes his way to your shared bed, dropping you on it. “I share everything with you, baby,” he says as he undoes his pants to slide into bed with you.

You stare at your husband through your eyelashes as you struggle to take off your skirt. “Need help?” Jungkook chuckles under breath as his pants fall to the ground, leaving him in only a pair of black boxers, his print clearly visible.

"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip as you tilt your head to the side to get a better view in between his pants as he reaches for the zipper on your skirt, pulling it down. "Up, baby,” he orders. You do as he says and raise your bottom up, letting him pull your skirt off, leaving you in your thong.

Jungkook drops the skirt on the floor as he watches you lying on the bed with nothing but the black piece of clothing covering your center. His breath rises as he watches you reach between your legs and move your panties to the side, giving him a perfect view of you.

“I’m so wet, baby, help me,” you whine as you run a finger through your drenched slit. "Baby, I can’t,” he hushes as his dick twitches in his briefs. 

“I’m not that drunk anymore, I promise.” You mumble, giving your pussy a little slap. “Fuck,” you moan.

Jungkook very much wanted nothing but to slam into you in this exact moment, but did he really not have self-control when it came to you? He thought to himself.

"Please... if not, I’ll just fuck myself with my fingers.” You giggled, bringing your index and middle fingers up to your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue on the tips, all while remaining eye contact with your husband, who’s fighting with himself whenever he wants to control himself or fuck you into the mattress.

But when Jungkook saw you insert a finger, he realized he didn’t have self-control when it came to you, and actually, he could give zero fucks about it, plus one thousand was nothing compared to you.

“Fuck it!” Jungkook grabbed a hold of your hands before pinning them up to your head, making you giggle loudly. “Hi.” You giggle as his face is just a few inches away from yours, and his eyes scan your face. “Hi.” He chuckles and smashes his lips against yours.

You moan softly as he wastes no time inserting his tongue into your mouth. His tongue glides along yours, making noise each time you part apart to breathe. Jungkook abandons your lips, moving to your neck, licking, sucking, and blowing.

“I want to eat you out,” he mumbles into your neck between sucking, leaving purplish red marks. He slowly makes his way down your body, all while remaining in eye contact with you. You use your elbows to prop yourself up, getting a clear view of your husband between your legs.

He chuckles, blowing a kiss to your clit making your hips buck forward, a choked moan leaves your mouth. “You’re dripping for me." He runs a finger through your puffy slit, spreading your arousal all over your pussy. 

You feel your wetness ooze down to your puckered hole and maybe even to the gray sheets underneath you. Jungkook tauntingly hovered over your aching center. “Please, fuck,” you buck your hips up again, making him pin you down.

Jungkook gives your cunt a long and slow lick, “shit.” You whine, your legs squeezing around his face, as he starts lapping on your clit, swirling and sucking. His saliva and your juices mixing together.

He pushes your legs up, spreading your pussy more for him. As he continues to suck harshly on your clit your fingers rake in his hair, pulling roughly whenever he would non-stop flick his tongue on your bud, making you shake. "Fuck, you’re going to make cum.” Your eyes roll back into your head.

Jungkooks cock is painfully hard in his briefs; he shifts from his position in hope to relieve some of the pressure, but it only twitches in return. Your husband brings his tattooed fingers in front of your face and says, "Suck.” He orders, and he doesn't have to ask twice.

You grab ahold of his hand and insert his three large fingers into your mouth, twirling your tongue on the tip and sucking like you would if you were on your knees in front of him.

A rush of blood rushes to his cock as he watches you suck on his fingers. You pop his fingers out of your mouth.

He tugs on your clit one last time before rubbing your sensitive bud slowly. You choke out a moan.

Jungkook inserts one of his finger pumping it in and out of your gummy walls, sending you back into the mattress. “Fuck yes,” you cry. He inserts a second finger, pumping them out quickly, curling them inside you, and hitting your spot each time. You grip tightly onto the sheet as you start to feel dizzy. “I’m coming, shit shit shit,” you cry out. You try to push Jungkook off you as he slides his fingers in and out of you repeatedly, with his tongue flicking your clit sending you over the edge.

Your mouth hangs open as your body shakes uncontrollably. Your pussy clenches around Jungkook's fingers. A rush of fluid squirts out of you, leaving you shaking and gasping for air.

“pretty.” Jungkook chuckles under his breath, giving your pussy a small slap and making you whine from the overstimulation.

Jungkook stands up, watching you squeeze your legs together with your eyes closed and chest heaving. “You good, baby?” He leans over, kissing your face over and over again until you peek your eyes open, and you giggle nonstop.

“Fuck!” You giggle, making Jungkook raise an eyebrow. “So good,” you giggle, “yeah?” He smirks, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Mhm.” You nod, kissing him back. “Let me return the favor.” You reach for his huge hard on, squeezing.

“Let me just fuck you.” He whispers into your mouth as you giggle in response.

“Okay.” You nod. Jungkook slowly stands up from the bed as you watch him push down his briefs, letting his cock spring free. He grabs ahold of the base, giving it a squeeze, and runs his thumb along his aching red slit before walking closer to you. You bite your lip in anticipation, and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

He spits down, letting his saliva drip down onto his cock before giving it two pumps, “legs up. ” He taps your thigh for you to do as he says.

You giggle, pushing your legs up, giving your husband an amazing view of your drenched spread out, dripping core.

“Fuck,” he says, aligning himself with your hole and slapping his cock on your pussy multiple times. "Shit, ah,” you moan, digging your nails into your thighs.

Jungkook watches as you clench your pussy over nothing, making his cock twitch. He runs his length over your slit before sliding into you. “Oh shit.” You gasp, biting your lip harshly.

Jungkook has always been too big for you, always stretching you out deliciously every time you had sex. Your pussy always took him so well.

"Shit, shit, shit,” you say, closing your eyes as you feel the burn of him sliding deeper into you. “You can take it, baby.” He hushes, pushing in deeper, and he rubs your clit with his thumb, trying to ease you. 

You can feel him all the way into your belly as he finally is all the way in you. “You take me so well, fuck, baby.” Jungkook groans as you clench non-stop around him.

"Move, fuck, ah,” you cry. You didn’t have to ask twice, as he started sliding out of your hole before slamming back in. Your nails dig into your thighs, leaving marks as he continues to slide in and out of you repeatedly. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he slams roughly into you. His hands push your legs down to your chest as he fucks into you, his cock spreading your walls and his tip hitting your g-spot with each thrust.

Jungkook watches his cock disappear into your messy wet cunt; he watches how you spasm every time he pounds into you; your pussy squirts every time he pulls out; but he doesn’t stop; he continues to slam back in.

Tears stream down your face from the immense pleasure in your core as you reach between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock so well.” Jungkook says between gritted teeth, as you only reply with a moan.

“Look at you squirting all over my cock.” He pulls out, spurs of liquid come rushing out of you, and your legs shake as your pussy convulses from each spurt. “Ahh fuck.” You moan as Jungkook rubs your pussy; your hands reach for his, trying to push him away, but failing as you orgasm with a long, loud moan.

“Good girl.” He groans.

“I can't... fuck,” you choke out, trying to catch your breath. "Yes, you can." Jungkook flips you over to your stomach. “Ass up.” He demands giving your ass a spank. 

You bring your ass up in the air, leaving your upper body laying on the bed totally spent. “Fuck pussy, so messy." Jungkook runs his cock through your pussy before sliding back in.

"Shit, this angle fucks me up,” he groans, getting ahold of your waist and squeezing roughly, probably leaving marks, as he slams into you. You dig your head into the mattress, biting onto the sheets, silencing your screams. The wet sound of him pounding into you and your screams are the only things being heard in the room.

“You love being fucked like this, huh?” He moans, pounding into you from behind. You don’t reply. 

He pulls out and pulls your hair up. “Answer me. You love being fucked like this, huh?” He whispers into your ear, your back arched against him.

“Yes.” You cry, and tears stream down your face. “Yes what? Baby.” He chuckles from your disheveled state, “I love being fucked like this.” You stutter over your words; the only thing your brain can comprehend is that you wanted to come again for the third time.

And with that, he lets you go. As you fall back down onto the bed, Jungkook spreads your ass cheeks, watching your pussy and asshole clench over nothing. “Spread open.” He orders you.

Jungkook watches how you do as he says and spread yourself open for him. He takes the base of his cock and aligns himself with your other hole. He rubs over some of your arousal to your asshole, inserting the tip of his cock before pushing the rest of his length inside you, “Fuckk.” You moan loudly, "Relax, baby.” He groans loudly at how tight it is.

This is not the first time Jungkook has fucked your ass, but the stretch of his cock always feels like the first time. He stays for a few moments, still waiting for you to adjust. "Go," you whimper. A green light for him to thrust.

He spreads you open more, watching his cock slip out of your hole before thrusting back in slowly. You moan under him, and you reach under him, rubbing your clit softly as tears run down your cheeks.

“Such a good fucking girl.” Jungkook moans, squeezing your ass and restraining himself from pounding into you at that very moment.

You insert two of your fingers into your pussy, sliding them in and out as Jungkook slides his cock into your ass. "Faster, please,” you whine, fucking your fingers into you as Jungkook speeds up his movements.

Your legs shake barely holding up as he pounds into roughly moaning loudly each time you clench, “You fucking like that?” He chokes out each slam he thrusts into you. “Keep taking it, baby.” His balls slam into your pussy, which each push.

“Fuck so good.” He moans, not stopping his movements. Both of you are sweating as you bite down on the gray sheets, feeling your pussy spasms with liquid with each thrust. “I’m coming.” You shriek,

“Go ahead, baby.” Jungkook's eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you shake underneath him. His body locks up, and black and white spots fill his vision as his dick twitches in you before spilling his seed into you with a loud groan.

“Oh fuck.” Jungkook pants as he slides out of your ass, his come oozing out of you. You fall onto the bed, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you whimper softly from the outstanding orgasm you just went through.

"Fuck, are you okay, baby?” Jungkook makes his way to you, flipping you over to be able to see your face. You whimper softly with your hands covering your face. "Shit, baby, did I hurt you?” He panics, shooting straight up and taking your hands off your face.

He sees the tears streaming down your face, and that sends a blow to his heart. "Baby, where does it hurt?” He scans your body and tries to soothe your shaking legs, rubbing his palms up and down your thighs.

“I’m okay.” You whimper between cries. 

“Then why are you crying, my love?” He pulls you up into a sitting position before kissing your tear-stained cheeks. "felt so good.” You cry. A wave of relief hits Jungkook. "Baby," he chuckles, giving you kisses all over your face.

“I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” You cry as he laughs softly while standing up, finding his briefs on the ground before stepping into them. He goes into your guys' shared closet looking for a pair of underwear for you and one of his shirts.

"Here, baby, let me help you.” He makes his way to you; he sits beside you as he helps you put on your panties and his shirt.

“Do you need anything?” Jungkook asks, putting your hair behind your ear. “No, I'm super tired; I want to cuddle.” You say snuggling under the covers with a big smile on your face, and Jungkook follows in beside you.

…

The next morning, Jungkook called in for an emergency meeting as he was waiting for the boys to come in. Taehyung arrives first with a guilty expression on his face, and before Jungkook could ask what’s up, Hoseok and Namjoon come striding in. And not long after all the boys started striding in.

“So..” Jungkook starts, “I fucked up.” And with that, he drops a thousand on the table in front of the boys. Nobody moves, and nobody says anything until,

"Oh, thank God, and I thought it was going to be just me." Taehyung drops a wad of cash, with the rest of the boys following along, dropping cash on the table.

“Are you fucking serious!?” Namjoon stares at his friends with his jaw wide open. “Am I the only one who took this seriously?” Namjoon shook his head at his friends.

“Honestly, I don't regret it at all.” Jungkook shrugs.

[wonusite]

Endless Adoration

❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞

PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader

GENRE: best friends brother au, friends with benefits au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

WARNINGS: bestie’s brother!mingyu, virgin!reader, secret pining, suppressed feelings, discourse of how to pronounce caramel, mingyu is the textbook definition of down bad, loss of virginity, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mirror sex, riding, squirting, multiple creampies, cum eating

A/N: this fic is my contribution to the fall season and part of the fall-ing for you collab! hope you all enjoy! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

It’s no secret that Mingyu is an affectionate man.

Acts of service and giving out his affection is his love language, and everyone knows it. Which is why no one really questions his behavior toward you. If he laughs a little too hard at something you said or always comes to your defense even when you’re wrong, it’s not really suspicious because he’s just a kind and gentle guy.

His little sister, however, does not see it that way.

Minseo knows her brother, and while he may be a walking green flag and a gentleman among beasts, he’s not that nice. Vernon argues that it’s only because you two are best friends that Mingyu treats you just a bit better than anyone else. It’s a viable argument, yet the little telltale signs point to Mingyu’s actions being more than common curtesy.

Like now as you’re arguing with Seungkwan during game night about the correct pronunciation of your favorite candy.

“It’s caramel.”

You scoff, eyebrows furrowed defiantly as you glare at Seungkwan. “No. It’s caramel.”

Vernon and Seokmin watch the exchange with amused smiles while Minseo watches her brother. He wears a similar expression, except there’s a subtle emotion in his eyes as he’s looking at you. It’s been there since you slapped down your last two Uno cards in repulsed shock when Seungkwan mispronounced caramel.

Ten minutes later, neither of you are willing to concede to the other and Mingyu still looks like a lovesick puppy.

“In what world is it caramel?” Seungkwan screeches, rising up from his spot on the couch.

“Mingyu.” You call suddenly. “Is it caramel or caramel?”

Two pair of heated eyes look over to him pointedly. The room goes silent as everyone waits for the answer that will possibly get you two to stop arguing. Minseo watches her brother carefully as he puts down his nearly empty beer bottle. The move seems casual, but she knows he does it to distract himself from the fact that you’re practically saying take my side.

“It’s caramel.”

“Ha!” You yell in victory, pointing a smug finger at a sulking Seungkwan. “I told you!”

Your friend’s pout is bitter. “That’s not fair! You only asked Mingyu because you know he’s going to agree with you no matter what!”

It’s true, and the rest of your giggling friends know it. Minseo doesn’t miss her brother’s bashful smile, and it makes her realize that there might actually be something deeper than just a crush. So she waits until all the guests leave to confront her brother about his not-so-subtle behavior.

“Is there something going on with you and Y/N?”

Now, her brother is naturally clumsy and pretty terrible at hiding his feelings, but Minseo didn’t expect him to drop all the board games he was carrying. He scrambles to pick up all the scattered pieces, pointedly looking at the ground and not up at her with a pout like he would’ve usually done.

“I—” He coughs awkwardly as he haphazardly shoves random pieces into the wrong boxes. “What are you talking about?”

It’s almost insulting that he thinks he can hide the truth from her. “I mean that I already know everything. So quit playing, and tell me how long this has been going on.”

Mingyu’s broad shoulders slump in defeat. He should’ve known that Minseo would find out (she had a knack for finding out everything), but he honestly didn’t expect her to find out this soon.

“Fine.” His tone is resigned as he puts the precariously stacked board games on the coffee table. “It’s true that I took Y/N’s virginity, but I swear that I only did it because she asked—”

“You what?”

His sister’s sharp tone makes him pause. Minseo’s mouth is dropped open and her eyes are almost popping out of her head. Belatedly, Mingyu realizes that his little sister is not referring to the favor you had asked him to do weeks ago. An uncomfortable chill goes down his spine.

Fuck.

You were going to kill him.

It’s not Mingyu’s fault.

When you came to him and asked him to teach you how to have sex, he was rendered powerless to your pretty eyes that shined with so much trust. He knows it’s wrong for him to take his little sister’s best friend’s virginity, but ever since you were kids, he’s never been able to tell you no. Years later, nothing has changed.

“Spread them wider, baby.” His voice rasps as his hands go to pry your thighs apart until he’s left with the sight of your glistening cunt.

Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight of your pretty pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your own arousal, and all he’s done is kiss you and mark up a few places on your body. And yet, there’s already a messy web of arousal covering your puffy lips. His groan is deep and almost animalistic when he sees your pretty cunt clenching with need.

Minseo be damned, he was going to absolutely ruin you.

You mewl softly when Mingyu presses his middle and index fingers against your cunt to spread your lips apart. The heat from his fingers feels different from when you touch yourself. It feels so much better, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moans and whimpers from escaping like they want.

Your best friend’s brother has always been unfairly attractive, but he’s never looked hotter to you than he does now, licking his pink lips while looking at your pussy.

Mingyu glances up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve really never done this before?”

The beefy puppy between your legs thinks he might actually come untouched when you pout at him. That exact look is what got him into this situation in the first place. Your adorable pout always brought him to his knees.

“Gyu.” You whine, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”

He loves when you call him that, and it takes everything in him to hold himself back from shoving his cock inside you and fucking you roughly like he wants. That would have to be for another time.

“I’m not, baby.” He assures you before he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “I just need to know how far I should take this.”

The frown you give him is oddly determined. “You said you’d teach me everything.”

Fuck.

Mingyu wonders if you actually know what you’re asking for, but then he has to remind himself that you’re only inexperienced, not stupid. You came to him because you trust him, and he wouldn’t ever betray that trust. If you happened to be uncomfortable with anything, he would stop right away. Though, it seems like you have no intentions of telling him to stop.

The soft moan you let out when Mingyu starts to gently toy with your dripping slit is like music to his ears. He thinks you can’t get any hotter, but then you buck your aching cunt into his hand as if to say get on with it. Ever powerless to your desires, Mingyu slips two fingers past your folds. He curls them experimentally, feeling your warm, wet cunt stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought. Virgin tight.

“Fuck.” His growl is deep and has you clenching down on his fingers. “I need to taste you.”

Arousal is clouding your mind and making you feel drunk. The way Mingyu is looking at you like you’re the thing he’s wanted the most in the world has you gushing all over his fingers. His hot mouth latches on to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. You cry out loudly as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock.

“Gyu!” You cry out as you arch you back, grinding your cunt into his face in search of release.

Your moans become broken when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The groans he lets out makes you release more juices into his awaiting mouth. It’s almost embarrassing the way his room is suddenly full of the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt, but you feel too good to actually care.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Mingyu groans into your sopping cunt. “You have the sweetest little cunt.”

All you can focus on is the way his tongue is fucking into you with a force that has you seeing stars. He runs his soft tongue along your aching folds skillfully until all you can do is cry out for him. Mingyu smirks into your folds, fingers slowly massaging deep inside you. The wanton cries you’re letting out make him scissor his fingers so you’ll be prepped enough to take his cock.

When you look down and see Mingyu’s pretty eyes looking up at you with unadulterated desire, the coil building in your stomach abruptly snaps. Mingyu moans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock twitches against the sheets when you keep rocking your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth. With a low groan, he keeps going, using his tongue to fuck you through your orgasm.

You’re a panting mess by the time he pulls away. His chin is covered in your release, and you briefly wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive. Mingyu licks his lips before he smashes them on yours. The taste of your own release makes you moan into his mouth, loving how his lips feel against yours.

You chase his lips when he suddenly pulls away. It’s almost cruel of him to laugh when you whine petulantly after he doesn’t give you what you want. But you can’t truly be mad. Not when it concerns Mingyu.

“Are you ready?”

Your attention is quickly drawn to his throbbing cock. He can’t deny the pleasure it gives him to see you gaping at it. It makes Mingyu think about the face you’ll make when he’s splitting you open.

“It’s...” Huge. You swallow nervously. “Will it fit?”

You can’t take your eyes off his monstrous dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, smearing the precum dribbling from his fat tip all over his veiny length. You can only watch in fascination like you’re in a trance, pussy clenching in desire. The only dicks you’ve ever seen are the ones from porn, but even those don’t compare to how thick and pretty Mingyu’s looks.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Mingyu licks his lips, mind clouded with a lustful haze. “I’ll make it fit.”

The face you make when he uses your arousal to get his dick wet nearly makes him come right then and there. After years of fucking his fist to the thought of you, he finally has you underneath him looking more irresistible than ever.

“Ready, baby?” The pet name continues to fall from his lips so easily, and it’s making you unreasonably more horny than you already are. “Remember you can tell me to stop anytime.”

“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation. Instead of being nervous, you’re just eager, and you know it’s because you’re doing this with Mingyu who actually cares about you.

Mingyu shudders in pleasure as he slowly sinks his leaking tip into your tight pussy. Your warm and wet and already gripping him so tightly that he wonders if he’ll come once he gets the rest of cock inside you. The choked gasp of pleasure you let out makes him throb with pride and arousal. Your pretty mouth is dropped open in a silent moan, and he has to swoop down to give you a sweet kiss.

You whimper into his mouth, starting to feel the stretch burn as he continues to slide in deeper. Mingyu pulls away to place tender kisses along your jaw, whispering into your heated skin about how good you’re taking him. A soft moan is pulled from your throat when he rubs gentle circles on your clit. It eases the sting, and soon enough pleasure cancels out the pain.

“G-Gyu.” You mewl as he finally bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. “Fuck. Your cock is so big.”

Your fucked out whine makes his dick throb. Mingyu only offers you a shy chuckle, thumb still working your sensitive clit. Your hot cunt is pulsing and gripping him so tightly that he knows the slightest movement will have him busting inside you. And while that’s one thing he’s dreamed of for a long time, this was about your pleasure not his.

“Like it?” His voice is seductive and not teasing at all which just turns you on more. “Tell me, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”

His hips shift, and it makes his cock curve into your sweet spot that makes you arch your back. The moan you let out is louder this time, hips bucking in need. Your arousal is drenching his cock and spilling down to coat his heavy sack.

“Feels so fucking good, Gyu! Please move!” You whimper desperately as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Mingyu moans into your skin, hips moving upon your command. He starts to thrust in and out of your hot cunt with precise yet slow movements. His hands trail up to your bouncing tits, gently caressing and rubbing your hardened nipples. You moan again, turned on by how tenderly he’s touching you.

“Told you we’d make it fit, pretty.” His grin is so attractive that it makes you tighten impossibly and stain his cock with more cream.

Mingyu’s hips start to snap a little more desperately now. His cock seems to swell when he looks down to see how tightly you’re gripping him. Strings of arousal cling to your skin and his as he continues to stretch out your tight little cunt. His heavy balls slap against your ass as you continue to moan in pleasure.

“You’re dripping all over me, babe.” He grunts, feeling like he’s in heaven. “Am I making you feel that good?”

Just like outside the bedroom, Mingyu likes to be praised. Your heart swells with fondness, unable to believe how cute he can be even as he’s splitting you open on his cock. It makes you want to oblige him all the more.

“So fucking good, Gyu.” You moan wantonly as his cock continues to spear into you.

You’re sensitive, mewling and whining in pleasure as he snaps his hips at the perfect speed and intensity. Mingyu lets out a deep groan when your thighs start to quiver. Your eyes are rolling back as his cock keeps slamming against your sweet spot, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“God, you’re pretty.” Mingyu moans as you squeeze his cock tighter. “Prettiest little thing ever.”

Your entire body heats up, and you can’t help but pull him down for a passionate kiss. Mingyu moans into your mouth. His soft lips move against yours with a need that makes you ravenous. You start to meet his thrusts, eager for more of him.

The sound of wet skin slapping fills the room, and you don’t ever want it to end. Mingyu’s mouth, hands, and cock are too addicting for you to ever want anything else. With the way his throbbing dick keeps fucking into you desperately, you’re pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

When he reluctantly pulls away from your sweet lips, he trails wet kisses down to your neck. You moan out his name when you feel him start to mark you up. The ache in his cock grows when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. Your sensual moans of his name sounds like music to his ears, and he knows he’ll be fucking his hand to the memory often.

Your orgasm is close, the coil in the pit on your stomach on the verge of snapping. All it takes is for his long fingers to smooth over your wet clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud for you to come undone. Your back arches off the mattress as you gush all over his cock with a loud cry of Mingyu’s name.

The erotic and breathtaking sight of you coming on his cock is something that leaves him breathless. It’s all Mingyu needs for his own orgasm to rip through him. He stills with a low groan of your name. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your pussy. The two of you are moaning and whimpering as your walls spasm around his aching cock.

“That’s it, baby.” Mingyu moans as he rolls his hips to fuck you through both your highs.

You’re whimpering in pleasure, milking him for every last drop of cum he has. The way he fucks it back into you makes you feel delirious with pleasure, and your cunt gets tighter with need at the thought of doing it all over again.

Mingyu holds you close as you both pant—spent and satisfied. He gently coos at you, sweetly caressing your face as he keeps his cum plugged inside you with his still-throbbing cock.

“How was it, baby?” He wonders, big puppy dog eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You wrap your arms around his muscular back, bringing a hand up to gently play with his hair. The gentle hum you let out eases his worries. “You were amazing.”

The smile he gives you is bright and makes your chest jerk with affection. Mingyu gently caresses your body, telling you how good you were for him. It makes you burn for him all over again.

Before you can convince him to fuck you again, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. You watch curiously as he brings back a wet towel. It’s warm against your skin as he starts to clean you up. The act is somehow more intimate than him stuffing you full of cum, but you don’t hate it.

Once he’s done, he gets back into bed with you. It takes you by surprise when he pulls you on top of him. Mingyu caresses your naked back, basking in the feeling of your weight on him. His heart jumps when he feels you start to trace small patterns on his chest.

“Can we do that again?” Your voice is coy, and he really fucking loves it.

“Yes.” He promises. “I’ll order some takeout for us first then we can do it again. Unless you want to do it now.”

You stay silent for a moment before nuzzling your face his sculpted chest. With your eyes closed, you let out a content sigh. “Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”

Mingyu caresses your head with a love stricken smile you can’t see. “Okay.”

In retrospect, Minseo should’ve realized it sooner.

The signs were there—have always been there, apparently. It’s almost embarrassing that it took her so long to realize something was going on. Especially when she thinks back to the annual camping trip that took place a week ago.

It started off like all the other trips, except Mingyu insisted that you drive with him since he wouldn’t subject you to being a third wheel to his sister and Vernon. This was only the start of Mingyu’s unwarranted clinginess toward you. Minseo didn’t think too much of it because no one liked being the third wheel, and her brother always has a way of guilt tripping like no one’s business.

The campground looks beautiful covered in hues of red and yellow. Mingyu has brought along his camera and is already taking pictures and candids of everyone setting up their space. He especially captures some of you taking in the beautiful autumn scenery. You always looked so pretty when you had a look of awe and wonder on your face.

“I didn’t see you taking that many pictures of me.” Seungcheol teases as he peeks at the camera screen Mingyu is smiling fondly at.

His friend’s neck burns, and before he can think to say anything back, your voice grabs his attention. Seungcheol snickers quietly. It’s this simple action that Minseo’s attention again.

“Gyu.” You whine, holding up the tent you brought in frustration. “Help me.”

Her helpful brother goes over to you immediately like a puppy being called by its owner. Minseo should’ve thought more about the way he hands over his prized possession to Seungcheol like it’s nothing. The smitten smile he directs at you doesn’t seem that way to her in the moment, but again—hindsight.

Mingyu’s tone is playful as he asks you what you need. You don’t answer him because in the next second he tells you to follow the instructions in spite of the fact that he’s already starting to put the sticks together to actually lift the tent off the ground. Mingyu goes on to say that you should’ve gotten a smaller, one-person tent instead of a large dome tent big enough to fit five people inside.

“The guy at the store told me it would be easy to set up!” You whine with a frown. “And it’s not my fault the instructions are impossible to understand.”

Mingyu’s laughter is full of affection and adoration. He shakes his head fondly as he continues to build your tent for you. “You need to learn how to do these sorts of things.”

“Why? That’s why I have you.”

Once again, she should’ve thought more about the bashful look on Mingyu’s face and the way his ears and neck turned red. Instead, she chose to make sure that Vernon was setting up their own tent correctly because she had also bought one very similar to yours.

By the time everyone has their tents set up, the sun is starting to set. Mingyu helps Seungcheol start the fire while everyone else helps prepare the snacks and drinks.

The vibe is peaceful as you all settle around the fire. Mingyu claims the spot next to you, and you’re all too happy to have him by your side. It goes unnoticed, but now the image is clear in Minseo’s memories.

“Here.”

You look over to see Mingyu handing you a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Maybe it’s the way the setting sun hits face or maybe it’s the fact that he was careful not to burn the marshmallow since you didn't like that. Either way your chest throbs with something you’re sure is not appropriate to feel for your best friend’s brother.

“Thanks, Gyu.” You smile at him before you start making your s’mores.

The night progresses like this, with Mingyu roasting your marshmallows and you happily making the s’mores. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s right to keep doing this with him. He’s so sweet and attentive that sometimes this line you’ve drawn gets blurry. The worst part is that you don’t mind if that line isn’t clear because being with Mingyu is like having a cup of hot cocoa when it’s cold—comforting and appealing.

For now, you decide to enjoy the moment. Evaluating feelings and this deep affection you feel would have to wait.

Fall has always been a special time for Mingyu. The leaves always change to beautiful red and golden colors, the weather turns the kind of crisp that’s invigorating, and it’s a time when family gets together. And possibly the most important reason: it’s the season when he met you.

He was only nine years old when you two met. It was a random autumn day meant to uphold the lifetime tradition of his parents taking him and Minseo to the pumpkin patch. Picking out pumpkins was something he looked forward to all year because it was a time where his entire family was together.

Mingyu vividly remembers being caught by surprise when his sister brought along an unexpected guest. She was holding the hand of a girl with a solemn expression that was a great contrast to her own bright one. Minseo cheerfully introduced the unknown girl as her best friend. You had offered him a barley-there wave that had him wondering how his sunshine of a sister could possibly like someone so closed off.

It was a misconception on his part because on the car ride to the pumpkin patch, he realizes his sister couldn’t have found a better friend. Minseo talks possibly more than he does, but you listened to every word attentively, like actually listen. Also, you offered her (and Mingyu after some shy contemplation) the snacks in your bag.

Your overly cautious attitude reminded Mingyu of his cousin’s unfriendly cat. Trying to get you to open up was a challenge, but you slowly started to warm up to him as the evening went on. He truly won you over after he offered to carry the heavy pumpkin you chose. The unsure pout you directed at him was adorable, and his heart just soared when you quietly thanked him.

“Here.” You huffed out, feeling embarrassingly shy as you stuck out your small hand.

Mingyu’s grin soothed the bashfulness. He thanked you for the candy you gave him, claiming that the caramel you put in his hand is his favorite.

Looking back on it, that was the first time you tugged on his heartstrings.

Of course, it was completely innocent back then. There was no way you could’ve known that Mingyu held on to that piece of candy for as long as he could until he forgot it in a pair of pants that his mom threw in the washer. Nor could you have known that as you two got older, it killed him just a little bit every time you referred to him as Minseo’s older brother.

These feelings don’t make sense in his mind, but it all becomes clear to him the fall of his junior year.

Just like all those years ago, you found yourself at the pumpkin patch. Except this time you don’t have either of the Kim siblings by your side. Minseo was hanging out with her almost-boyfriend and of course Mingyu hadn’t joined you two at the pumpkin patch for years now. You weren’t uncomfortable being alone, but it did feel odd picking out a pumpkin without Minseo inspecting it to make sure you picked one suited for carving.

In your lonely search, you meet Lee Chan. He too had been left alone after his friends went off with their respective partners. What you don’t realize is that your resident puppy boy is watching this kindred meeting from afar. Unbeknownst to you, Minseo had texted her older brother asking him to keep you company because she still felt sorry for leaving you alone.

At the time, Mingyu can’t explain why his chest feels strangely heavy. It feels like he can’t approach you despite knowing you wouldn’t be unhappy to see him. So he doesn’t even though it’s arguably one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Later that night, his mom helps him come to the conclusion that this icky feeling is none other than petty jealousy.

As a teenage boy who loved his little sister more than anything, this realization was devastating. It was very likely that Minseo would be upset if she ever found out her brother had a crush on her best friend. The fear of what would happen if his feelings ever came to light was the reason Mingyu decided to keep it a secret.

After all, it was just a small, harmless crush.

Unfortunately for Mingyu, this teeny tiny crush soon blossomed into something more intense that he’s not ready to acknowledge. Time goes by, and yet his feelings haven’t gone away even when he starts to date. It makes him feel icky, and most likely the reason why none of his relationships ever last.

When it’s time for him to leave for college, he thinks that maybe he can move on. Only, you never give him that chance.

“Why don’t you ever bring enough clothes?”

It might seem like Mingyu is scolding you, but he’s actually only worried that you seem to value fashion over practicality. Your heart jumps when he takes off the scarf he’s wearing to put it around you, making sure it covers your neck and looks pretty with the outfit you’ve chosen. He doesn’t seem to notice that your eyes shine with endearment as he adjusts it to cover your mouth.

“Come on.” He absentmindedly grabs your hand, not realizing his touch is making your heart pound. “The cafe is only open for another hour.”

Mingyu had insisted that this new cafe had drinks to die for. So he waited until you got off work to go with you together. You’re glad his scarf covers the lower half of your face because you’re sure every single emotion you feel for him would be very obvious as he hands you a warm cup.

Walking in silence with Mingyu isn’t ever uncomfortable, but it does leave you to contemplate how you’re going to confess to him. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, and you hope he won’t be upset at your sudden feelings since you’re the one who insisted the sex between you two would be strictly platonic.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

It kills you that Mingyu can look so pretty while he’s tilting his head at you curiously. You let out a nervous breath. It was now or never.

“You told Minseo you took my virginity.”

The air goes still, and you feel like smacking yourself because that’s not at all what you were planning to say—not like that, anyway. Mingyu’s eyes practically pop out of his head as he feels a blush crawl up his neck and suffuse throughout his face. You don’t seem angry, but he can’t really tell with his scarf covering your face.

“I’m sorry!” He rushes. “I didn’t mean to, but—”

“I’m not mad.” You assure him with a laugh.

“You’re not?”

“No.” You let out a fond laugh. “And Minseo isn’t either.”

Before Mingyu can fully process your words, you crush him with a hug. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and press himself closer to you.

“I like you, Mingyu.” You confess, feeling like your heart is on the verge of exploding. “I like you so much.”

He stills in your arms. Slowly, he pulls away to look at your face. His expression is one of pure shock, and before you can brace yourself for any kind of rejection, Mingyu is kissing you.

The movements of his soft lips are needy and full of undeniable want. You moan into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much vigor. It all feels like a wonderful dream, especially when you whisper against his lips that you want to go back to your place.

If this is a dream, Mingyu wishes it could go on forever.

Having you kneeled between his parted thighs, worshipping his cock in the exact way he’s shown you how has him coming apart quickly. You’re slobbering all over him, saliva slipping down the sides of his dick to lubricate him.

“Fuck, Gyu. You have the prettiest cock ever.” You gush, entire body hot with arousal and want.

The way he actually blushes as you praise him has your cunt dripping with more juices. You can’t wait to wreck him and have him writhing in pleasure. His cock is throbbing as you continue to lick and stroke him with your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip, licking into the slit which causes him to let out a guttural groan. The moans you let out run through the length of his dick in the most pleasurable way.

Mingyu feels completely fucked out at this point. He can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at sucking his cock. And now, he’s going to be the only man to experience what that pretty little mouth can do.

“Y/N, fuck.” He cries out as his orgasm abruptly hits.

As always, Mingyu looks absolutely breathtaking when he comes. His mouth is dropped open as a pretty blush covers his entire face. Dark eyes are unfocused and dazed as he keeps releasing thick ropes of cum into your mouth. The way you keep pumping and sucking him to squeeze more cum out of him is starting to make him tremble.

You pull off his cock with a satisfied grin. Mingyu’s chest is heaving as you go to straddle him.

“Wait!” He pants out, slowly coming out of his euphoric bliss. “It’s your turn—”

“I want you to fuck me now.”

Mingyu groans when he feels your creamy folds slide over his twitching cock. “But I really want to taste you.”

He’s so cute, you think as your cunt leaks with arousal. You hum in pleasure as you rub your aching cunt over the length of his dick. His fat tip is enveloped between your warm lips every time you grind forward while his heavy sack is slowly getting soaked with your arousal.

“Tell you what, puppy. After you fill me up with your cum I’ll let you eat it out of me, okay?”

You feel his cock throb at your words as your cream covers him entirely. Mingyu nods cutely, and that’s all you need to grab his pulsing cock. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you tease him by circling his tip against your slick entrance.

Mingyu moans loudly when you sink down. A choked whimper is forced out of him as you take him entirely, puffy lips brushing against his pelvis. His thick veins drag against your hot walls deliciously until his heavy balls are flush against your ass. It’s like all the air is being shoved out of your body to make room for his cock.

“God, Y/N. I need you to move. Please.”

You slowly grind on his cock, juices dripping down to his big balls and making a mess all over him. It’s probably really hard for him not to fuck his cock up into you, and it really turns you on that he’s trying so hard. You can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. Literally you can feel it. His cock keeps throbbing inside you like it’s on the verge of exploding.

“Show me what I’ve taught you, baby.” His voice is sultry and tempting—something you can’t say no to.

Immediately, you start to gyrate your hips. You two moan in sync as your pussy clenches tightly on his cock. Mingyu sucks on his bottom lip, completely beginning to lose his composure. His hands go to your waist, slowly guiding you as his imploring eyes gaze up at you with unmatched desire.

“Fuck, Gyu!” You cry out. “You’re so deep!”

The sound of your pleased cry, Mingyu starts to move his hips to thrust up into you. He groans lowly because it feels like his aching cock is hitting the hilt of your sopping pussy. Your soft hands smooth over his naked torso, crying out his name as you feel every inch of his muscular chest.

“Mmmh, pretty girl.” Mingyu hums in pleasure as his big hands smooth down your body to grab your ass. “Fucking my cock just right. Feels so fucking good.”

When he starts to kiss and suck on your neck as his cock spears into you, the coil in your stomach snaps. You moan his name loudly as you come all over his dick. Loud squelching fills the room as he continues to bounce you on his lap. His thickness is stretching you deliciously, the unmistakable sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass mixing in with your moans of pleasure.

Mingyu fucks into you a few more times before you feel his hot, thick cum spurt inside you. His euphoric moan is as pretty as ever, and you can’t help but move your hips to fuck him through his high.

You sag against him, and it’s silent for a moment until you bring your lips to his ear. “I want more of your cum, puppy.”

That’s how you find yourself on your side with Mingyu behind you. Your back is pressed against his beefy chest as he lifts your leg up to expose your soiled cunt to the cool air. He nuzzled his nose into your neck before he trails it up to your cheek. Your body shivers as his arm breath fans against your ear.

“Watch how your pretty pussy stretches open for me.”

You wonder what he means until his other hand lifts up your chin delicately to look at the full body mirror he bought for you a week ago after you told Minseo you wanted it. His fat cock is teasing your entrance, and the filthy sight makes your cunt flutter in need.

Without a word of warning, Mingyu thrusts his thick dick inside you, heavy sack flush against your creamy cunt. You whine out in pleasure, feeling completely full and stuffed to the brim. It’s impossible to look away from the mirror because you can see how tightly your pussy is gripping him.

Mingyu’s cock throbs inside you as his skin tingles with desire. He starts to thrust slowly. The lewd wet sound coming from your cunt is erotic as it fills your room. You moan again when the hand that isn’t spreading you open comes up to play with one of your tits. The sensations of his cock hitting your sweet spot while his fingers pinch and pull on your erect nipple have you close again.

If you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure Mingyu’s throbbing cock is providing you with, you’d tell him to let you record because the sight of him doing you like this is one you want to remember forever. His thrusts start to pick up as your moans get louder. He’s groaning into your ear as his fat tip slams against your cervix.

Mingyu pounding into you while in this positions feels like he’s tearing your pretty little pussy apart. He messily kisses your jaw as start to tremble in his hold, grunting when you tighten around him once again like you’re trying to milk him.

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” Mingyu’s moan is low, but you hear it perfectly. “Sweet little pussy was made to take my cock.”

Your eyes roll back as you whimper out a nearly incoherent agreement. So lost in pleasure, you don’t realize your second orgasm is one thrust away.

“Mingyu!” You moan as your orgasm hits.

Juices spurt out obscenely and cover his entire cock and the sheets bellow you. Mingyu groans as he holds your legs wide open. He keeps fucking your messy cunt as you squirt all over him. All you can make out in your euphoric haze is Mingyu calling you pretty while his twitching cock keeps ramming deep into you.

“Fill me up.” You manage to mewl out as you turn your head to give him a sloppy kiss.

Mingyu moans into your mouth, thrusting into you deeply before he stills. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he floods your sloppy cunt with his cum. You swallow each others moans as he stuffs you full to the point where you can feel it leak out of you. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you is one of your favorite feelings which is why you’re eager to feel it at least one more time.

It’s why Mingyu is quick to put you into a different position, your legs pressed into your chest as he rams his aching cock inside you once again. Your fucked out eyes are the prettiest, and he knows that he’ll never get tired of that stare. He loves how your gaze never loses the affection you feel for him. It makes him feel like you’ll never leave him.

“You feel so good, Gyu.” You whimper as his big cock spears into you.

Mingyu roughly pounds into your ruined cunt, not holding back since he’s determined to fill you up one last time. His cock throbs as your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your pretty mewls and whines mix in perfectly with the sound of skin slapping. It only makes him fuck you harder.

His dick forces out an obscene amount of juices from your fluttering pussy. Mingyu is so deep that it almost feels like he’s in your guts. You always feel so full when he fucks you like this, and all you can feel is bolts of euphoria dancing across your skin.

“Come for me, pretty.” Mingyu urges sweetly as he hooks your legs over his shoulders. “Come all over my cock and cover me with your sweet cream.”

Somehow he feel just as deep from this angle. He keeps railing your tight cunt, splitting you open to fully claim you as his. Your senses go into overdrive when he slips his fingers down to your puffy clit to rub gentle circles. At this point you’re trembling beneath him, all thoughts gone as he thrust harder and deeper inside you.

Mingyu’s eyes are locked on the way your tight pussy swallows his thick cock. The way your cream covers him completely make him more ravenous. He’s hitting your spongy spot with mastered precision, and it only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in your stomach to snap.

Your moan is pornographic as your walls contract and your juices squirt out everywhere. Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter as you cover him with your orgasm. He groans loudly, loving how you can only seem to chant his name.

“God, you look pretty when you come on my cock. So pretty. Every. Fucking. Time.” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls.

Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around the thickness of his cock. Mingyu slowly releases your legs and goes to give you a passionate kiss. His hips move slowly as he fucks his cum back into you. With one last peck he pulls away and slowly eases his cock out of your messy pussy.

You moan again when he suddenly starts to lap up the mess between your legs. You’re too fucked out to stop him. That, and you did say he could eat his cum out of your pussy after you were done (plus it just feels so fucking good). He licks and sucks on your clit until there’s nothing left to lap up.

When he crawls back up your body, your insides clench at the erotic sight of him licking his lips. “So fucking sweet.”

You pull him down for another kiss. The taste of you two mixed together is so filthy yet so addicting that you have to lick every inch of his mouth. Mingyu pulls you flush against him as he continues to kiss you like he never wants to breath again.

Minutes later, you two are still in your bed, cuddling and unwilling to separate from each other.

“This feels like a dream.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You hum, running your finger tips along his biceps. “It’s not a dream. I really do adore you, Kim Mingyu.”

He buries his face in your neck, mumbling into your heated skin that the adoration he has for you is endless.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors

[aurorawritestoescape]

GOOD GIRL || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, big age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), insecure reader, soft!Joel, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, belly bulge, use of a morning after pill, slight Professor kink, power imbalance. Joel can pick up reader, reader has hair. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 7,9k

A/n: this is for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge. Big thank you to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing. Hope you all will enjoy it💖

MASTERLIST

You are rushing along an empty suburban street caught in a warm summer rain. Soaked strands of hair are sticking to your face and you brush them off, feeling your clothes getting wet too. Drops of water are trickling down your naked thighs as your skirt rides up and your shoes squelch with every hurried step.

The rain isn’t too heavy and you might have enjoyed it some other time but not now, not when you’re running late for your lesson at Professor Miller’s house. You could have waited it out under a tree but by the look of it, the pouring won’t stop soon.

You didn’t want to make Professor Miller wait. He is already doing you a huge favor, tutoring you a few hours a week in preparation for another year at college.

You decided to switch majors and, being a good friend of your mother, Professor Miller agreed to help you so you could catch up on what you had missed and get more confident in the new field.

Frankly you wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t been running circles in your room, trying to decide what to wear. Of course, you had a crush on Professor Miller. He was handsome, intelligent, nice and much older than you. But you’d never act on it because you couldn’t even imagine him looking at you like that. So you weren’t choosing anything to attract him that day. All you wanted was to look nice. You always wore formal clothing out of respect for him. One time you put on a band tee and a pair of ripped jeans for your lesson and felt terribly out of place next to the perfect Professor Miller. After that you swore to yourself to look presentable at his lessons.

You’re looking very far from presentable when Professor Miller opens the door to you now. Yet there’s not a trace of displeasure in his warm gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked!” he exclaims, eyes widened behind his black-rimmed glasses.

“Forgot my umbrella, so sorry,” you mumble, stepping inside. You take off your wet shoes and put on the slippers you always wear in his house. Seeing that you’re dripping water on the floor, you silently curse.

As a striking contrast to you Professor Miller looks impeccable. Beautiful dark curls are combed back, a black sweater over a white dress shirt and black slacks make him look like he’s on a red carpet rather than in a suburban house on a Saturday.

He rushes away, mumbling something about towels, and you peek into the hall mirror to check the damage.

What you see makes you want to jump out of the window - your mascara is running, the hair’s wet and disheveled but what makes your heart drop to your stomach is your white blouse, soaked, stuck to your torso and completely see-through. Your chest is fully exposed except for your white lacy bra which isn’t much help either as you can definitely see your nipples.

Your hands dart to cover yourself but you don’t want to attract more attention to it, so you try to cross your arms over your breasts as casually as possible.

“Here.” You jerk, hearing Professor Miller’s beautiful voice and take a towel from him with a quiet ‘thank you.’

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask, hugging the towel close to your chest.

“Of course, take your time. Join me in the office when you’re ready.”

You love Professor Miller’s guest bathroom. All of his house actually. It’s always neat and feels warm and cozy. Every piece of furniture seems thought through, the colors are rich but calming and you often find yourself wishing to stay here longer.

You clean your face up and dry yourself as well as you can. Your hair is still damp, but the skirt is not that wet. On the other hand your blouse still makes you wanna cry. At some point you contemplate asking Professor Miller for a spare shirt but this seems very inappropriate.

So you take a deep breath and decide that you can cover your almost exposed breasts with a book or something else.

You walk to the office and hastily join Professor Miller at his desk. A cup of hot tea is waiting for you next to a stack of books.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” he says, patting the chair next to him and you plop down awkwardly, trying to hide your indecency. “Drink this. It’ll help you to get warm.” His gaze slides over you fast, not sticking to anything in particular, and you ease up a little.

He starts the lesson by checking your homework and explains your mistakes. You nod but hardly listen to him. So close to Professor Miller you feel disappointed in yourself, looking like an idiot who forgets to check the weather before leaving the house.

A light breeze hits your back and you shiver.

“Oh, I’ll close the window.” Professor Miller rushes to stand up, but you stop him with a hand on his arm. As if electrified by the feeling of his firm muscles under your touch, you dart your hand back, as your cheeks burn and you say,

“It’s ok. I love the sound of rain.”

“But you must be cold? Here, take my cardigan.” You object but he doesn’t listen, grabbing it off his chair and putting it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, wrapping yourself in it as his scent envelops you. He smells of vanilla and cardamom and you can’t help but take a deep breath of him. He smiles, but you don’t notice it.

A couple of times during the lesson Professor Miller seems to lose his train of thought and you blame your look for it. He must be thinking that you look like a stray wet dog and your mood gets worse.

When he stands up to get a book from his home library you use the pause to apologize,

“I’m sorry again for looking like this. I should have waited the rain out but I was running late.”

He turns to you, standing at the wall full of books, and shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face,

“What are you talking about? You look great.”

“Ehm…I doubt it. I bet I’ve left a puddle in your hall like a wet dog.”

He chuckles, then grabs the necessary book and returns to the desk. He sits down and turns slightly towards you. His knee touches your naked thigh and you press your legs together, feeling the tingling between them. With a new wave of embarrassment overtaking you, you close the cardigan over your chest. He doesn’t look down but instead searches for your eyes.

“You look amazing, sweetheart, you always do. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It’s just rain.”

The sun peeks through the clouds for a second, and when its golden rays fill the room, you notice how beautifully Professor Miller’s eyes sparkle behind the glasses when the light shines on them. It takes your breath away and you lower your gaze with a smile. His praise makes you feel warm and fuzzy and your heart sings at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you.” Your quiet words are barely audible because of the sound of the rain outside.

Professor Miller takes a deep sigh. “Sometimes when I look at you…I wish I was younger.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look up at him and stumble, “W- what… why? Really? Why?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, my back wouldn’t give me so much grief.”

You’re nodding with a fake smile, disappointed by his answer. He’d never look at you this way, in a different way. He’s perfect and you’re …well, you. He interrupts your self-deprecation saying softly, “Sweetheart, you worry too much. You, young people, don't understand how lucky you are. You have the whole life ahead of you, you’re free of regrets, sorrows. And the youth passes so quickly.”

You’re staring at him now, lips half parted, and then suddenly blurt out, “I am afraid. Almost all the time.”

“Of what? Why?” He asks, looking concerned.

“I don’t know. Of… everything.”

You turn slightly to him on the chair but quickly avert your gaze and stare back at the open window. The thrumming of the rain outside makes it easier to talk, as if it is accompanying your words.

“I’m afraid of my future. How wonderful it can be or how unhappy I might become. I study hard thinking …wishing the result will give me happiness but what if it doesn’t. I worry about my future career, but I’m not even sure I want it. I.. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You feel wetness coating your eyes and glance at him. He’s looking at you with intent, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.

You sniff, turning back to the desk, and stare at your fingers fumbling with the corner of Professor Miller’s cardigan.

“Sweetheart, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

Your head whips up and you gawk at him with widened eyes. You’ve never heard him swear and never thought you ever would. He smiles, as if finding your reaction amusing.

“I might look all put together but I’m just like you. Scared, unsure… hell, we all are. No matter the age, I doubt it ever goes away,” he says placing his heavy hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “But you can try to focus on the present, enjoy the moment, enjoy yourself.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him chuckle bitterly, “My intent was to help but it seems like I’ve done the opposite.”

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you telling me this but I doubt I can do that.“

He watches you for a few moments and suddenly his face lights up and a charming lopsided smile twists his lips. You almost giggle at how mischievous and joyful he looks.

“I know what we should do.” He gets up and offers you his hand.

You look up at him confused but so much joy is radiating from him, you can’t say ‘no’. You take his hand and your whole body vibrates with skin on skin contact. You’re overwhelmed by his and your confession, by the unexpected turn your lesson took, and your heart is fluttering in your chest.

You follow him to the living room, your hand in his, and come up to the French windows which lead to the back yard. He lets go of your hand and you fix his cardigan that’s slipping off your shoulders.

Professor Miller opens the windows and a flow of humid slightly cold air rushes into the room and you wrap the cardigan tighter around your torso. The rain got heavier and you see little puddles on the patio.

He turns to you and says, louder than usual, so you could hear through the drumming of the shower.

“You know what I want to do now? What will make me happier?”

He starts walking backwards out to the wet patio and you open your mouth and giggle,

“Oh my god, Professor! What are you doing?”

He shoots you a wink and steps under the heavy rain. Then he tilts his head up, closing his eyes and exposing his face to the drops, falling from the sky.

“Please, come back inside!” You walk up to him, still standing under the cover of the roof. You place your hand on his shoulder and grab him lightly. “Come back inside, you’ll get cold. I’m not sad anymore, I promise.”

Just a few moments under the downpour are enough to drench him and when he looks at you, his glasses are all wet, curls are stuck to his forehead, his sweater is soaked.

“Do you like walking in the rain, sweetheart?”

“Well, sometimes yeah, I guess, but…”

“Great!”

With that, he grabs your hand on his shoulder and pulls you out onto the wet grass. You gasp, feeling the rain drops on your face and body again, your clothes and slippers getting wet slowly but surely. You try to get back inside but he quickly closes the windows and stands in front of you, not letting you through.

“Come on, sweetheart, enjoy this summer rain with me.”

“I will but maybe inside the house?” you plead, trying to cover your head with your hands.

“And where's the fun in that? C’mon,” he returns your pleading gaze with his own, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Let’s enjoy the moment. Do what you want. Don’t worry about the future. Live now.”

His hands leave your shoulders and he steps up closer, making you walk further from the cover of his house. Watching him prowl towards you like that, with a charming smile, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, sends a surge of arousal through your core and you feel yourself getting wet not only from the rain. You stop and he does too, an arm length from you.

You two are standing in the middle of the backyard, smiling at each other, while the heavy rain is soaking your clothes, drawing wet paths down your faces.

You follow his lead from a few moments ago, looking up and closing your eyes. You feel the drops caressing your skin, kissing your eyelids, nose, lips and then sliding down your neck. For a moment you let go of your fears and hopes that weigh on you rather than motivate you and just feel, taking a deep breath.

When you open your eyes a few moments later, there’s something different about the way Professor Miller is looking at you. His cheer is gone and he’s serious again but not in his usual ‘I’m a professor’ way. His gaze is focused on you, dark eyes tracing your features with quiet hunger.

“What would you like to do right now?” He asks you, tilting his head to the side. The answer comes to you like lightning and you act on it immediately.

You take a step, reach up and kiss him. It’s just a peck but you stay there for a few seconds pressing your wet lips to his.

He breathes in sharply against your mouth and the realization of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train. You part from him and step back, your eyes filled with terror.

You’re staring at each other for a few long moments, only the sound of rain and your pounding heartbeat breaking the silence. You open your mouth to dump all possible apologies on your tutor but you have no time to do it because in the next moment Professor Miller kisses you.

One hand on your neck, the other on your arm he’s kissing you, keeping you close, but not grabbing you. You can stop it any second. You don’t. You revel in the feeling of his lips gently caressing yours. They taste like rain. His thumb is sliding along your jaw and your pussy aches with need. You’re cold from the rain but burning up inside for him at the same time. A shiver runs through your body and his lips leave yours.

“Let’s go back inside. You are freezing,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You curse your body for interrupting the most beautiful moment of your life but follow him when he takes your hand in his and leads you back into the house.

You’re dripping on his carpet in the living room until Professor Miller brings towels and you dry yourselves. He takes off his sweater and you swallow loudly when he rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt exposing his big forearms. His tousled wet curls take your breath away. One curl falls on his forehead and your heart hurts from how handsome he looks. He places his glasses on the coffee table and asks you,

“Would you like to change? I can give you my shirt. Or find something of Sarah.”

After discarding his soaked cardigan, you look down and see your sheer wet blouse sticking to your breasts but you don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed any more. You shake your head, wanting him to see you, all of you. The realization makes you gush and your pussy tingles, making you press your thighs together.

“God, you’re shivering, you can get sick,” he fusses over you and he’s right, you’re trembling all over, but not only because of the rain-drenched clothes. Your whole world is upside down. You shoved your crush on Professor Miller into the furthest corner of your heart, being scared of it. You were always good at limiting and controlling yourself, at making yourself feel less, not acting on your desires.

Until today.

Shaking legs bring you to the sofa and you sit down. He takes a blanket from the side of it and wraps you in it, rubbing your arms and back over the material, trying to warm you up.

He’s so close to you. You stare at his wet face, lashes stuck together, lips shining with the rain or your saliva or both.

It feels like a dream that you don’t want to end. His hands leave you and you look at each other. His gaze slides down to your lips and your heart flutters. You wonder if you have enough courage to kiss him again.

Suddenly you hear a loud thunder and jump in your seat. You look around and it’s like you finally woke up. Your heart freezes at the thought, ‘You kissed Professor Miller! You kissed your fucking tutor! Your mom’s friend! Fuck!’

Your head whips back to him. “I’m so sorry,” you mumble, trying not to burst into tears, your throat getting squeezed with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know why I’ve done it. I must have lost my mind. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking pity on me, Professor.”

His hand darts to your shoulder but he swiftly puts it away.

“First of all, call me Joel, please …and what do you mean by pity? I didn’t take pity on you. I acted inappropriately but… I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

You drop your head and murmur under your breath, “A complete mess?”

He sighs and takes your hand in his. His big warm palm engulfs it completely and you look up at him, not being able to contain yourself anymore, as tears well up in your eyes. His voice is warm and soft and so pleasant you wish he’d never stop talking.

“You’re a wonderful young woman. Intelligent, kind, capable of anything you’ll set your mind to. Your future is bright, I'm sure of it.”

You smile and tears roll down your cheeks.

“And you’re very beautiful. I hope someone tells you this.”

You sniff, eyes downcast, and shake your head, making your tears fall. Joel gently takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up so you would look at him. His face is blurry with all the wetness in your eyes. He cups your cheek and brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Well, then let me do it. You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

Your heart stops. At least you think so because what you’re hearing can not be real. You died and went to heaven otherwise it’s unbelievable that Professor Miller… Joel is telling you this.

You’re gawking at him and he chuckles before taking his hand away.

“I love that I can see all your emotions on your face.”

You hastily close your mouth and try to collect yourself while a whirlwind of feelings swirls in your stomach.

“And I don’t regret kissing you.”

You search his face for a sign of a joke, but find none. He looks and sounds serious and you feel yourself lean closer to him.

“Me neither, Joel,” you whisper, his name sweet on your tongue, and lean forward a little. It takes him a second to meet you halfway and kiss you. He takes the lead and moves his lips slowly and gently against yours but you feel that he’s holding himself down by the way he breathes, the way his lips move faster and with more vigor until he stops himself. You feel hot wrapped in the warm blanket so still glued to him you unwrap yourself and it pools at your feet.

“You’ll get cold,” he mumbles against your lips and you shake your head no, still kissing him. You don’t want it to end so you desperately cling to him with only your lips touching.

Another thunder shakes the house and you feel his hand on your naked knee. You part your legs and scoot closer to him and his thumb brushes your inner thigh. Your whole body erupts with chills.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as his lips leave yours, “Your legs are ice cold.” He puts his hands on your arms, “And you’re still shivering, poor thing.”

You’re about to explain that it’s not because of the rain or wet clothes, at least not only. It’s him, his plush lips on yours, his warm hands gliding over your skin, his eyes looking at you so differently from what you’re used to. All of it makes every cell in your body vibrate, your stomach churn, your core burn with arousal.

But before you can tell him all that, he says something that makes you stop in your tracks, “Would you like to take a bath?”

For the hundredth time today you’re staring at him with your mouth agape.

“H-here? In your house?” you stumble, blinking at him.

“Yes. There's a nice tub upstairs in my bedroom.” He hears himself and hastily adds, “It’s not like that. Ehm… You can take it and I’ll wait for you here. I’m afraid you’ll get sick because of my carelessness.”

His beautiful brown eyes are pleading you to agree. You don’t want to leave him but your sodden cold clothes make the offer of a hot bath sound better with every second.

So you nod and he beams at you. In a second he’s walking upstairs and you’re trailing behind him, your hand in his. He leads you to his bedroom and you quickly look around, seeing that it’s perfect like the rest of his house, simple but cozy. You follow him to the en-suite bathroom and he starts the water. He explains to you how to make it colder and hotter like you’ve never seen a bathtub before but you don’t get offended or annoyed. He’s nervous, it’s visible and it makes you jittery too. Suddenly the idea of being alone without him makes you sad and your heart aches.

The tub fills up fast and while he’s telling you about the bath salts and towels you interrupt him,

“Can you stay?”

Now it’s his turn to gawk at you.

“When…until it’s full?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, when I take it. Can you stay with me?”

He swallows loudly and takes a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve crossed so many lines today. I’m not sure I can cross this one.”

“You told me to do what I want right? And I want you to stay with me, Joel,” you say louder, trying to feign confidence, before taking a step to him.

“Are you sure?”

You look deep into his eyes, so close that you can see your own reflection in them and reply,

“I'm not sure about anything in my life… but I'm sure that I want this,” you say, drawing an invisible line between your hearts with your finger, and add, “Really badly.”

His dark eyes are darting between yours as if he’s looking for a trace of doubt in them. He won’t find any. He’s reading your features and they probably tell him something because in the next moment he slowly leans to you. The kiss is soft but the more you taste him the more confident you get.

So you press your body to his and he groans when your lower belly touches his bulge. Your heart and pussy flutter when you realize how big and stiff he is. Is it because of you? A part of you can’t believe a man like him can be interested in you but his body can’t lie.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling away but, in an attempt to interrupt something you don’t want to hear, you raise your hands and start unbuttoning your wet blouse.

Joel’s eyes are glued to your fingers, working their way up your top. Soon your belly is revealed, then sternum and your breasts, covered by the bra. You slide the blouse off your body and it pools at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel whispers, as his hand slowly lifts to your breast and he brushes your nipple through the thin lace of the bra with his thumb. It’s already perked up from all the kissing and the cold and you whimper, your body vibrating with desire at the slightest touch of his big hand.

You get impatient and take your skirt off too. You’re standing in front of him wearing nothing but a lace white set and Joel growls like a hungry wolf. You bite your lip, hearing the sound of his desire for you.

His gaze slides from your face to your breasts, belly, hips, legs and up to your face again. He seems to make a decision because soon he starts unbuttoning his shirt too.

“I’m going to hell,” he mumbles as the expanse of his chest is revealed to you and you salivate seeing his golden skin, soft belly, happy trail that leads down. Your clit twitches when he unzips his pants.

Soon his clothes join yours on the floor and he places his hands on your waist. You try not to look at the huge tent in his boxers but fail miserably. He smiles and pulls you into his arms and you hug his middle. He’s big and hot against your cold skin and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

“Still shivering, poor thing, let’s get you into the hot water,” he whispers and his hands slide to your back. He searches for your eyes and after you look up and nod, he unclasps your bra and takes it off you.

His chest is heaving when his gaze moves down to your naked breasts but he doesn’t stop stripping you. With his fingers hooked in your panties, he waits for your permission and then slides them down. They fall on the floor around your feet and you step out of them.

His eyes are completely obsidian now and his hands dart to you but he stops himself.

“Could you help me?” You ask and turn around before offering him your hand. He takes it and you step into the full tub. The water feels scolding hot at first but all your senses are focused on Joel and you lower yourself into the hot water. Sitting in the middle of the tub you look at his bulge, which is at your eye level now.

“Join me, please,” you plead and he mumbles soft “yeah,” before pulling his boxers down. His cock springs free and your pussy buzzes with anticipation and fear because he’s really big and thick.

Joel gets in the water behind you, his legs bent at the knees by your sides. He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to lie down against his chest.

You rest your back on his warm broad chest and he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his cock twitch against your lower back and a quiet whimper escapes your lips, “Joel.”

He almost purrs hearing how you said his name. You feel his heart beating hard at your back. His body, so big and strong, envelops you, warms you up better than the hot water around you and you feel like it’s where you belong, in his arms, reveling in his warmth, his softness, ready to give him anything he’d wish for.

The ache in your pussy gets harder to ignore and you squirm between his legs. He takes a sharp breath and bucks his hips against your butt. You feel his lips at your temple as he plants a kiss there.

“You’re so hot,” he praises you as his hands slide up your body and he cups your breasts. He palms your pebbled nipples and you moan, pressing your thighs together.

Then you tilt your head to the side and back and look up at Joel. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes blown, and he lowers his head and catches your lips with his. This kiss is different from the ones you’ve shared before. Craving, impatience in every stroke of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, and you drown in pleasure of his caress.

Suddenly it’s not enough for the both of you. Without saying a word to each other you sit up and turn around while he helps you shift in the tub with his hands on your waist. You’re facing him now, standing on your knees, and he takes in your wet naked body before whispering,

“Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

You breathe out a soft ‘ok’ and in a second he lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the tub in the corner. You lean your back against the cold tile wall and shiver. Joel notices your reaction and starts pouring the water over you so you’d warm up again.

When you say that you’re not cold, he stands on his knees in front of you, his hands planted on the edge of the tub by your sides. He cages you in between his broad torso and the wall and your pussy pulsates for him.

“Could you spread your legs for me, please?” he says, sitting down on his heels, as his chest is pressed to your knees.

You slowly do what he asked and your pussy blooms for him, folds opening up to his view and Joel’s breath hitches and he llicks his lips at the sight.

“Oh, my,” he mumbles and glances up at you, "You have the most gorgeous pussy, sweetheart." That word on his lips sends a fiery wave through every inch of your body and you whimper, when he moves into the space between your legs, spreading your thighs wider with his broad torso.

His plush lips parted, eyes blown and restless, he takes you in - his gaze hastily runs over your face, breast, belly, cunt as if he can't get enough of you. He reaches for your face and kisses you deeply and passionately. His hand brushes against your aching pussy and you moan.

"My sweet girl," he whispers against the corner of your mouth and his soft lips move down to your neck, collar bone, chest. He's swirling his tongue over your nipple, his hand kneading your breast while you are running your fingers through his damp curls.

Soon he gets to your pussy and when his hot lips touch you there you almost come against his mouth.

“You’re sweet all over, honey,” he mumbles against your twitching clit, hunching down. Then he grabs your ankle in the water and lifts your leg.

“Put your foot on the edge, yeah, like that, good girl.” You’re completely exposed to him now but your desire shuts all your insecurities and you ache to show him every inch of you without any shame.

Soon you’re moaning and writhing on the edge of the tub as his tongue is dancing over your clit before his lips close around it and he gently sucks on the bud, keeping your folds spread with his thick fingers.

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your life and he approvingly hums against your pussy, when you whisper his name again and again, alternating it with whimpers and soft ‘yeah’s’.

“Damn, I can come just from hearing you, honey. What are you doing to me?” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs, eyes glistening. He looks completely pussy-drunk and it must be taking everything from him not to spill his seed into the bath water right now.

You give him a little apologetic smile and he continues pleasuring you. Joel’s caresses are slow and gentle, he’s almost edging you but when you start moving your hips, searching for more friction, he reads your signal immediately.

“Need more, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly and with his hands on your inner thighs he starts devouring your pussy, his growls full of lust. The flat of his tongue is rubbing against your clit, then the warm muscle plunges into your crying hole as his nose nudges your clit and soon you’re screaming, shaking with the hardest climax of your life.

Joel laps at your juices, generously dripping into his greedy mouth as you’re digging your fingers into his broad shoulders, clenching around his tongue when he slides it inside you.

“Yeah… like that. Oh, my good girl,” Joel mumbles, his words muffled by your pussy.

When your climax dissipates, you rest your head back against the wall and he stays between your legs, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. His palms glide up and down your legs as you’re catching your breath.

When you look down, your eyes well up with tears when you see this big, gorgeous, intelligent, hot man on his knees in front of you. A voice inside your head reminds you that he’s much older, your parents will kill you, you’re fucked. But you push all your fears away when he gently helps you get back in the water and sets you on his lap.

Straddling him, you look into his eyes. You’re feeling a myriad of emotions but the brightest one makes your heart sing - you finally feel like yourself, confident, free, happy.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, grateful for the pleasure but also for the self assurance he gave you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He returns your smile with the warmest grin and pulls you into his embrace before kissing you. His big arms envelop your torso as you melt against his chest.

His cock twitches between your bodies and the fire in your core ignites with a new force.

“I want you inside,” you whisper, nuzzling his neck.

“Oh, darling… I wish for nothing more but … I’m afraid to hurt you.”

You sit up straight and drop your gaze into the water. His cock looks painfully hard and huge and you take a sharp breath, imagining it piercing you.

“I wanna try,” you say with confidence.

He searches for any doubt in your eyes again and then nods. Joel helps you to stand on your knees in the bath, holding you steady with his hand on your hip, the other holding his cock at the base.

“Start slowly and if it hurts… stop any second, ok?”

You agree, positioning yourself right above his waiting cock and begin lowering your hips.

You feel his hot tip bump into your clit and, feeling a burst of pleasure, you grind against it a few times. You both moan at the sensation and Joel tightens his grip on your body.

His handsome face twisted in pleasure might be the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You don’t tear your eyes off him, wishing the image got sealed in your memory forever.

You shift a little, nudge your hole with his fat head and start sinking on his throbbing member.

He’s big. Really big.

You widen your eyes as his length parts your folds and slides inside you, surprisingly easily thanks to your recent orgasm.

Joel leans back against the tub and watches your pussy swallow him in the water, his brows furrowed, half-lidded eyes set on the place where you two are slowly joining.

You lower yourself further as your walls spread, trying to accommodate his member inside you. It hurts a little but you’re so aroused you hardly notice it.

Joel moans when you’re finally flush with him, his cock filling your wet heat perfectly.

“Fuck, ohhh, fuck… I’m sorry for all the cursing, honey, but your pussy feels fucking incredible.”

You smile at the praise and clench around him making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks with his eyes still closed.

You shake your head, but hastily add ‘no’, realizing he can’t see you.

“I’ve had a boyfriend. But he dumped me pretty quickly.”

He looks at you, brows furrowed, as he hears a slight sadness in your voice.

“His loss, sweetheart,” he says, gently taking your neck between his palms.

His gaze slides down your body to your pussy.

“Hnggg, you’re so tight.”

“Sorry. “

“What? No, it’s .. Gosh, I can’t think straight when you …look like this, wrapped around my cock. I’m in heaven.”

His warm hand rises to your face and he cups your heated cheek. You nuzzle into it smiling against his palm. Then you move your face a little and when you feel his thumb at your lips you part them and take it into your mouth.

His cock throbs deliciously inside you, and he moans as your tongue swirls over his thick finger.

“Oh my god, you naughty thing. You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smile around his finger and roll your hips a little. You both almost scream at the sensation. His thumb slips out of your open mouth as a wave of pleasure rushes through you. You seem to feel his cock everywhere. You can’t stop now, not with the way his thick length massages your pussy on the inside, sending bolts of ecstasy through your body.

You start fucking yourself on his stiff cock and you both fill the room with groans and whimpers, adding them to the soft splashing of the tub water.

He tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut while you feel another climax building.

“Oh, Professor,” you moan and he groans, clenching his teeth,

“Don’t.”

“What?” You ask and bite your lip, seeing that he’s deep in the pits of lust just like you are.

“Because I won’t let you stop calling me that,” he groans and your heart sings at the implication of you two doing it again in the future.

Not giving him any respite you breathe out, “It feels so good, Professor,” and start bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans but then holds you down.

“Baby, are you on the pill? I can’t… I’m gonna come soon.”

“No,” you reply through panting and he furrows his brows,

“Shit… not sure I have condoms,” he says, his eyes darting between yours. He clears his throat and adds, “I haven’t been with anyone for …some time now.”

You feel like he wants to apologize and you shut him up with a kiss.

“It’s ok. I’ll get Plan B. I want…want it inside me,” you whisper against his lips and sit up, starting to move again. You roll your hips, feeling your clit rub against his soft belly, and whimpers escape your parted lips again and again.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, watching your body slowly move on him. He’s almost drooling as his palm slides from your neck to your chest, over the swells of your breasts, brushing against your erect nipples, caressing the soft skin of your belly. He dips his hand in the water and presses it to a lump right over your mound and moans,

“Oh, fuck, I can feel my cock right here… do you feel me deep, baby? Tell me.”

“Yes, Professor,”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last, gonna fill you up.”

Looking down, you see it, the bulge in your belly moving up and down, his cock inside you stretching your skin.

With a loud moan, you clench around him and it sends a chain reaction making your pussy vibrate and contract, as another climax starts shaking your body.

“Yeah, baby, just like that… squeeze my fat cock, my good fucking girl.”

Not being able to hold any longer, Joel erupts inside your core, jets of cum spurting against your walls. You feel hot from the water and his heated body and now there’s warmth inside you too, your pussy’s getting filled with him.

You’re fucking yourself on his exploding cock while he’s sucking on your neck, and then he holds you so tight, it gets difficult to breathe. Every cell in your body is screaming with pleasure and you wish this moment never passed, he was inside you forever, holding you close.

When you both feel your climaxes subside, Joel leans back against the wall and pulls you to lie on his chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, plugged by his cock and full of his seed. You breathe in the scent of his skin, your hands on his chest as he rocks you like a big strong wave, slowly breathing in and out. You feel an immense affection towards him, and your throat gets squeezed with upcoming tears. You try to hide them from him but when you sniff he gently cups your cheek and makes you look at him.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking you over with worry in his gaze.

“No, I’m just… I’m just happy. I’m sorry.”

You smile at each other until he takes your face in his big hands and plants kisses on your eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, lips. You giggle when his facial hair tickles your delicate skin and he laughs with you.

Your bodies relaxed, hunger satiated, you stay in the bath for a few more minutes while he’s pouring water with his hands over your shoulders to keep you warm.

When the temperature lowers, he gets out of the tub and brings you a big fluffy towel while you shamelessly watch him move naked and wet around the bathroom. He helps you to get up and you bite your lip when his cock twitches at the sight of your body on display for him. He clears his throat and starts gently drying your skin. The memory takes you back to him drying you in his living room, before you crossed the line with him and you marvel how much changed between now and then.

You feel happy for the first time in a long time but also scared of what happens next. What if he goes back to being just your tutor, what if he doesn’t want to see you at all, what if your parents find out… The thoughts rush through your mind and he reads your face again and asks, “What is it, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, driving away your fears. Joel wraps you in the towel and you gasp when he lifts you. He laughs, carrying you to his bedroom, and then lowers you gently on the bed.

“Get under the duvet, sweetheart.”

You listen to him and get comfortable in his bed. The sheets smell of him and you can’t help but gush again. He brings your clothes and you sit up reaching for them so you could put them on but he stops you.

“Stay here. I’ll go get you the pill,” he says and makes you lie back down. After getting dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, Joel tucks you in and kisses you gently before leaving.

You hear his car drive off and fall into the comfort of his bed. You close your eyes for a second suddenly feeling tired.

You wake up from soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

“I hate to wake you up, honey, but your parents are worried.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes and holding the duvet over your naked breasts. You see the pill and a glass of water on the nightstand and take it.

“They called?” You ask, swallowing Plan B.

“Yes, I told them you needed to do some extra exercises.”

You giggle but he looks upset. Your fears come back again.

“You regret it,” you whisper, as your eyes well up with tears.

In a second you’re in his big arms and he whispers against your cheek,

“Never, baby. I don’t. But I can’t help but feel guilty. I should know better. I feel like I’m robbing you of your time. You should be someone young, someone who can give you more.”

You search for his eyes and take his face in your hands.

“No, I don’t want anyone else. I want… I need you.”

You kiss him and pull him to lie over you on the bed. You’re making out holding each other close. The rain has stopped and you can hear birds chirping outside through an open window.

“Fuck.. I need to go,” you whine, parting from Joel and reaching for your clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Language, young lady,” he scolds you with a smirk. You bite your lip and purr with a sultry tone, “Sorry, Professor.”

You love how this word makes him shiver with arousal now.

He adjusts himself, cursing under his breath and his dark eyes are watching you while you’re giving him a little show while putting on your clothes - gliding your hands over your body, slowly slipping into your panties and bra. When you slide your arms into your already dry blouse, he gets up to button it up for you. Soon your lips gravitate towards each other and it takes a lot from you to part from him again.

You go downstairs and Joel offers to drive you home but you politely refuse.

“I’ll walk. I love the smell of the air after rain,” you smile ready to leave, standing at the door, “besides someone told me to enjoy myself more so I’m gonna follow his advice.”

You smile at each other and he gives you a farewell kiss, hugging you, before whispering in your ear, “My sweet girl. Thank you.”

You look deeply into his eyes and ask,

“See you on Thursday?”

“Yes, but you’re going to study.” Your widened sad eyes make him chuckle as he adds, “Among other things.”

You beam at him, peck his lips and walk out of the door, feeling wings behind your back.

*****

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[punkshort]

First Impressions

Thanks anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader one-shot

Summary: When your heater breaks in the dead of winter, you get more than you bargained for when Joel Miller arrives to fix it.

Warnings: language, some fluff, the stress and fear that comes with living in the wilderness during a zombie apocalypse, competency kink (a little), smut (18+ MDNI), dirty talk

WC: 4.2K

Adjusting to life in Jackson was tough. You had been on your own for so long, you found it nearly impossible to ever fully relax. You were grateful Tommy and Maria took you in after one of their patrols stumbled across you freezing in the thick Wyoming wilderness, but to be yanked from the brink of death and dropped into some thriving community that seemingly even managed to still celebrate the holidays was too jarring.

So, you kept to yourself for a while. You pitched in around the stables. It was where you felt most comfortable: less people, more animals. You didn't go to the dining hall to eat and you didn't visit the bar for a drink. You had a clear cut path from your house to the stables and back, and you rarely ever strayed.

Unfortunately, while Jackson had a lot to offer and did incredibly well at reviving civilization, things still did break. Like your space heater.

You piled on extra blankets for a week, and then you moved to the living room to sleep on the tiny sofa in front of the fireplace, but eventually your back was screaming at you for it and the cold weather wouldn't let up for at least another two months, so you had no choice but to ask for help.

Tommy was shocked you hadn't said something sooner and apologized for making you feel like you couldn't ask for help, even though it wasn't at all his fault or anyone else's except your own, and promised to have his brother stop by that afternoon to take a look at it.

While you kept to yourself and hardly socialized at all, that didn't stop you from overhearing things at the stables. You knew of Tommy's brother. How people whispered rumors behind his back and fell silent whenever he stepped foot inside the building.

Did you know he slit a raider's throat and made the guy's girlfriend watch?

He beat the shit out of Seth the other night just for looking at him wrong.

Back in Boston, I heard he knocked some guy's teeth down his throat for taking the last of the beef jerky.

Someone told me he only sleeps two hours a night.

He fixed Greg's shower and told him not to fuck it up again or else he'll be taking baths in the kitchen sink.

Were you intimidated? Maybe a little. But you had been on your own for so long, fighting and scratching and clawing to stay alive. Some asshole wasn't going to shake you up.

Then you saw him.

Well, you'd seen him before, sure. But just glimpses in the barn or passing by him on the street. Never up close.

When you opened your front door later that afternoon, you were a little taken aback. He was so much more handsome than you had thought. He was built like a refrigerator; broad and strong. His cheeks and chin were dusted in a patchy, greying beard, growing right below a hooked nose and deep, velvety brown eyes. There were a few scars littering his bronzed skin but what drew your attention more was his hair. His fucking hair. Loose, mostly grey curls that fell past his ear and down the back of his neck. Not long enough to pull into a ponytail, like Tommy, but give it a few more months and he might. He had them pushed back from his face, making the silken locks look like a cascading river so enticing, you had to hold yourself back from touching them.

He said your name and readjusted the toolbox in his hand and you blinked yourself back to life before stepping aside to let him in. When he passed you, you were hit with the strong scent of wood shavings and coffee, an intoxicating combination that had your brain buffering once again.

"Tommy said you needed your heater looked at?"

You nodded and pointed up the stairs. "It's in my bedroom. Can I, uh, get you something to drink? Coffee?"

He perked up at that once he slid off his jacket and shoes. "You got coffee?"

You nodded and walked toward the kitchen, rummaging through your meager belongings until you found the precious tin can. "That's the one thing I always made sure I grabbed if I ever saw it out there. If we have to live like this, at least I'm still having my coffee."

Joel grinned and set the toolbox down on your counter, watching as you filled up a kettle with water. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that your stupid heater broke, giving him the perfect excuse to finally meet you so he could stop pining from afar. "You don't like it much here, then?"

You startled at that, giving him a look of surprise before lighting your stove.

"No, I didn't mean here, I just meant... you know... the world in general."

"I know, I'm just teasin' you," he said a little awkwardly with a soft chuckle. You turned around, leaning against your counter and crossing your arms over your chest. You had just spoken a few words but so far, nothing about this man screamed scary. In fact, he seemed rather... sweet.

"How long have you been here?" you asked while you waited for the water to boil.

"'Bout five years," he said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "You're new, though."

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting underneath your bicep. "Yeah. I think it's been almost a month. I'm not really sure, never bothered keeping track of the days out there."

Joel studied you up for a moment, picking up on your eyes shifting over your surroundings, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor, and the way you kept your back protected when you spoke to him.

"I remember when we first got here," Joel said. Your fidgeting paused and you looked at him again. "It was tough. Acclimatin' to this kind of life. Hard to sleep. Hard to trust anyone. It took time but eventually, you start sleepin' soundly again and that guard comes down. You'll see."

A slow smile spread across your face and you looked down shyly at your feet. "Am I that obvious?"

Joel laughed and strolled over to the two mugs and can of instant coffee you had sitting out. "Wouldn't say it's obvious but I haven't seen you at the dining hall one time. In fact, pretty sure this is the first time I've heard your voice." Your cheeks warmed up behind his back and you bit your lower lip. So he's noticed you enough to realize you never went to the dining hall.

"It's a pretty one," he said over his shoulder, focusing on scooping the correct amount of coffee into each mug. "Your voice, I mean. Shame you been keepin' it hidden all this time."

"O-oh," you stuttered, completely flustered by his compliments. This was not at all the man everyone made him out to be. "Thank you."

Joel carefully poured the boiling water into each mug before giving them each a stir, then handed you one. "You're welcome, darlin'. Now why don't you show me to your bedroom?"

Your eyes must have bugged out of your head because at first, he frowned, then after he realized what he said, turned a shade of pink you didn't know he was capable of.

"I mean, for the heater."

"Yeah, oh Christ, I know," you said, waving him off and heading for the stairs, your mug clutched so tightly in one hand you thought it might break. You lead Joel to the first door on the left and stepped back so he had room to swing his toolbox through the narrow door with him.

"I don't know what happened," you said, trailing in after him while he began to set out some tools on the ground. When he knelt down, he groaned at the creak in his knees and you quickly grabbed a spare pillow. "Here, kneel on this," you offered. He looked up at the pillow, then at you, and shook his head.

"I ain't kneelin' on your pillow."

"It's a spare. I only use the one. And honestly, even that seems too much sometimes."

He sighed and hesitated for only a moment longer before taking the pillow from your hand. "Thank you," he said softly. You smiled and sat down on the edge of your bed after putting your coffee on the end table with his.

"Anyway. As I was saying, I don't know what happened. It was working fine and then one day it just wouldn't turn on. I tried other outlets and I didn't see any issues with the cord, so I just gave up."

Joel began to unscrew the back of the heater while he listened. "So you gave up and slept in the cold for two weeks?"

"Nothing I wasn't used to."

He couldn't argue with that.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence while he worked until he began to hum some old country song under his breath, making you smile again. You couldn't remember the last time you smiled so much.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

"You aren't at all the way people say you are," you said boldly.

He quirked an eyebrow and turned his attention back to his work. "And what have you heard?"

You shrugged and leaned back on your hands. "Threatened a man after breaking his shower. Knocked out some guy named Seth. That you only sleep two hours a night," you chuckled at the last one when you heard how silly it sounded.

"Well," Joel said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't threaten anyone about their shower. Just reminded him he's gotta take care of the pipes or else the whole place'll rot."

You grinned to yourself as he continued to explain the rumors.

"I did punch Seth but he said somethin' real nasty 'bout my girl and, well, that just don't sit right with me."

Your grin slid right off your face. "Your girl?"

He stopped what he was doing and swiveled around to face you. "My - Ellie. Her name's Ellie. She's, uh, well... she ain't my daughter, but..."

Relief flooded your veins. "Oh. I thought you meant -"

"No, no," Joel said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "No, not like that." He twirled a wrench around in between his fingers as he nervously bit the inside of his cheek before adding, "Don't got anyone like that."

Your mouth formed a silent oh. Message received.

Joel cleared his throat again and turned back to the heater. "And the sleep thing, well, they got me there," he chuckled with a shake of his head. "Although some nights are better than others."

"I know what you mean," you said with a nod. After a moment of silence, Joel smiled to himself.

"Imagine y'do if you ain't got any heat at night."

You giggled and he smiled again, this time his chest swelling when he heard you laugh.

Joel continued to work on the heater while you studied him quietly. He took you by complete surprise. The last thing you expected was to make a friend out of the fearsome Joel Miller. It didn't hurt that he was so easy on the eyes, either. How old was he? Your gaze roamed over his greying hair and the crinkles next to his eyes. Older than you, definitely, but it was hard to tell by how much.

You couldn't even remember the last time you were interested in anyone. It must have been when you were in the Atlanta QZ, and that was years ago.

"Alright, let's give her a run," Joel suddenly said. When you refocused on him, you saw he had put the heater back together and was fixing it upright. He plugged it into the wall and hovered his finger over the power button before glancing back at you. "Ready?"

You nodded and swung your legs back and forth over the edge of your bed, then he winked at you, sending warmth all over your body. Jesus, if Joel kept giving you little looks like that, you wouldn't have much need for a heater anymore.

He pressed the button and sure enough, the coils inside the heater began to glow orange and heat started to fill the room.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, jumping off the bed in excitement. "Thank you!" you added, kneeling on the floor as well so you could warm your hands in front of the heater.

"Anytime," Joel murmured, and it wasn't until you heard the deep timber of his voice next to you that you realized he was so close. You tilted your face, smiling shyly at him next to you. Up close, you could see the fine lines in his face in much more detail, each one calling out to you to trace with your fingertip. When you met his gaze, you found he had been examining you, as well. Quickly, you looked away and stood up.

"Is there anythin' else?" Joel asked as he began to pack up his toolbox. You shook your head.

"No, I think that'll do it."

"You sure? Thought I saw that faucet drippin' in the kitchen."

You frowned. "No, I didn't notice that," you said slowly.

"What 'bout those windows?" he asked, standing up with a grunt and gesturing to the two bedroom windows on the other side of the room. "Need help hangin' curtains?"

You looked where he was pointing. "No, never really bothered me. Besides, it faces the backyard. No one can see in."

He laughed softly and rubbed his chin before shooting you a sheepish look. "I'm tryin' to find a reason to stay, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened and once again, you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Oh," you said, shyly dropping your gaze to the floor to hide your smile. "I would like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah. You're, um," you shifted your weight nervously, "you're sweet. And nice."

Joel huffed and set his toolbox back down. "I ain't nice all the time," he warned. "But you ain't gotta worry 'bout that."

"No?" you questioned, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to close the distance between you.

He sighed and cupped your face with both hands. Your body instantly melted at his touch, your knees practically giving out when he dragged his thumb across your lip, saving it from your teeth. "Am I readin' this wrong?" he asked, his eyes darting all over your face. You quickly shook your head and stepped even closer.

"Thank Christ," he breathed before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. It had been several years and you were a little rusty, but you quickly found it was like riding a bike.

Joel's kiss lit a fire in you, one that had gone dormant for so long. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his flannel, the material warm and soft, just like him, and with the confidence boost that came from his hands dropping to grab excitedly at your hips, you walked him backwards until he bumped against the edge of your mattress.

He sat down on your bed with an oomph and you crawled into his lap, not once breaking the kiss.

"Wish I got to know you sooner," he whispered, tipping his head back when your lips traveled down his neck. Fuck, even his neck was sexy. "Always so skittish and shy," he continued, his palms gliding up and down your back.

You laughed softly against his skin and leaned back. "You still don't really know me."

He grinned and shrugged. "I'd like to, if you're willin'," he said, his vulnerability making your chest ache. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip again and nodded.

"Good," he said, his hands roaming further past your waist to cup your ass. "'Cause I like what I know so far."

"You're full of surprises," you told him, giggling when he gave your ass a firm squeeze. "You're so much more... you're more gentle and sweet than I expected."

Joel smirked and tugged you closer so you felt his erection trapped within his jeans. "I can be gentle," he told you, nipping at your jaw. "Or I can be rough. Whatever you like."

You swallowed when you caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," he said, and before you could blink he had spun you around so your back was pressed into the mattress while he hovered above you. You had to admit, he was adorable. He had to be pushing sixty but he was talking like a man half his age. After you heard the way his knees creaked when he was fixing your heater, you figured he was all talk, or maybe he just needed the ego boost to hype himself up.

But the speed in which he removed your clothes should have been the first sign that your impression of him was wrong. When he buried himself inside you, his surprisingly thick length stretching you open and nudging the furthest depths of you, you got the message.

When you gasped and tipped your head back, his big hand immediately rose to cup the side of your face and tilt it back down so he could watch your face as you unraveled beneath him. Each little noise and moan seemed to egg him on, like he fed off your sounds and the way your face twisted in pleasure when his coarse hair rubbed against your clit with each roll of his hips.

"Wanna see you," he explained, eyes scanning all over your face. "Wanna watch you take it. You'll keep your eyes on me, won't you? Hm? You'll be good for me, yeah?"

You nodded, your mind a muddled mess. The only thing you could seem to focus on was the slow and deliberate drag of his heavy cock in and out of you. Joel pressed your knees back against your chest as far as you could handle and pushed inside you further with a rough grunt. He managed to get so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach and the sensation left you breathless.

"So fuckin' pretty, y'know that?" he groaned, gazing down at you without breaking rhythm. His long locks loosened and hung past his eyes, tempting you to smooth them back. "Wanted to get to know you f'so long but I couldn't ever catch your eye," he admitted with a little smirk. You moaned when his hips began to swirl, switching the angle ever so slightly and setting your nerves alight.

"I-I... oh, god," you whined, already struggling to keep your eyes on him like he asked. "I didn't know."

He lunged forward and crashed his mouth against yours hungrily, his exhale fanning over your cheek. Then just as suddenly as he kissed you, he leaned back and pulled out.

"Turn over," he instructed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he dragged in air. You did as you were told and shakily held yourself up on your hands and knees.

"Fuck," he muttered behind you. Your face went hot and you tucked your chin into your shoulder as you waited for him to enter you again, but he chose to take an extra minute to glide his hand over the curves of your hips and ass. If you had been able to see him, you would have seen a look of awe and appreciation on his face.

"Always wondered what you had hidden under all those clothes," he said as he lined himself up at your entrance. You cried out his name when he finally slid back inside, the angle already too intense and he hadn't even begun to move. "Goddamn, wanna run my tongue over every fuckin' inch of you, baby," he growled, fingers gripping your sides as he tried to ground himself.

He gave you a few gentle thrusts to get used to it before he couldn't hold back any longer. He pounded into you, his eyes fixed on your ass and the way it bounced with every snap of his hips. One hand slowly reached down to trace your spine, marveling at the way your body welcomed him. Then you arched your back and you both moaned at the slight change and he could feel his stomach begin to tense in anticipation of his release.

"So fuckin' tight," he said through clenched teeth. You could hear him breathing heavily as his thrusts grew sloppy and you began to panic, sensing he was about to come before you were ready. But then as if he read your mind, one of his hands snaked around your front to draw fast circles over your clit.

"C'mon, give it t'me," he said with a grunt. "Wanna feel this perfect pussy squeeze me, want you to be feelin' me for fuckin' days, sweetheart."

"Oh, shit," you gasped, mouth hanging open in a mixture of ecstasy and surprise. You wondered how on earth everyone in town had so much to say about Joel's reputation but somehow managed to leave out how mind-blowing he happened to be in bed.

"Christ, honey. Ain't gonna last much longer," he groaned, his fingers working even faster between your legs. He pounded into you harder, punching the air from your lungs and pushing you closer and closer to your peak. Your breaths were coming in shallow pants and you could feel the swell building deep inside you, threatening to unleash at any second. You reached behind you frantically, searching for some part of him to hold onto when you found his hand pressed firmly onto your hip. Your fingers clasped over his as you felt the pressure build up quickly and you knew in that moment this one encounter was going to single-handedly ruin you.

The moment you fell apart while practically screaming his name, your cunt pulsing around him and your body shaking, he almost made a huge mistake. Finally getting to witness what you looked like when you came was more than enough, but hearing his name over and over while your body shook with pleasure? It was too much and he was only just a man who was holding on by his goddamn fingernails as it was. But fortunately, he managed to pull out just in time to paint your lower back with his cum. He knew he was making some ungodly sounds as relief flooded his veins, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had been daydreaming about taking you apart like that for weeks and now that he finally had you, there was no turning back.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, lifting his chin towards the ceiling while dragging in deep lungfuls of air. You collapsed flat onto your stomach with a grunt and he tilted his face back down to grin as how spent you looked.

Still got it.

"I'll be right back, darlin'," he told you. You mumbled something tiredly in response before he slipped out of your room to get a washcloth from your bathroom and returned quickly to clean you up.

"Thank you," you said, turning your face so you could watch him gently wipe up his mess. His eyes flickered to yours and he smirked.

"You thankin' me for fixin' the heater, for fuckin' you, or for cleanin' you up?"

You giggled, your voice a little hoarse when you replied, "All of the above."

You flipped over onto your back and his eyes immediately drifted down your naked body, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how perfect you were. Even better than he ever imagined.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, letting the rag fall to the floor so he could glide his hand up your thigh, over your hips and stomach to one of your breasts which, he realized far too late, had gone neglected. Next time.

"So are you," you whispered back, bringing a hand up to play with the long curls resting on the back of his neck. He shook his head shyly and looked away.

"I need a haircut."

"I like it just the way it is," you told him, twisting a lock of hair around one finger and watching as it loosely bounced back when you let it go. "Gives me something to grab onto," you joked. A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes looked like he was staring at the tree on Christmas morning.

"So, uh," Joel began when the silence stretched on for too long. "I meant it earlier. 'Bout gettin' to know you better." He couldn't remember the last time he felt so nervous. He could feel his face heating up and he prayed you didn't notice. "I know you don't like goin' to the dining hall but I'd really like to have dinner with you. I can't make much but I can make stew, if y'wanna-"

"I would go to the dining hall with you," you said, cutting him off. His eyes snapped back up to yours and he shot you a nervous smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a little shrug before sitting up and draping your arms around his shoulders. "As long as you're there, I'll go."

He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you, still in complete disbelief his wildest fantasy actually came true.

"How 'bout tomorrow, then?" he asked a little breathlessly when he broke the kiss.

Your eyes lit up and you nodded. "It's a date."

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[lokisgoodgirl]

Delicate [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: As Loki recovers from injury - he needs the sweetest balm to heal him: you (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Fluff. Avenger! Loki x Female Reader. Description of injury (no blood) In my feelings.

Your fingers trail down the centre of Loki’s sternum: tender, purple splotches soaked into his skin like dye. They've barely faded in the month that’s passed. His trademark ivory skin is like a storm cloud and, if you watch for long enough, you’d swear it ripples. He holds his breath, face set in stoicism, lips pressed together in a thin white line.

He forces a pained smile against his cheeks. “Good as new,” he lies.

“Bullshit,” you reply.

Loki releases the breath, head falling back against the pillows.

“I hate this,” he mutters. A month ago, almost to the day, his torso was nearly decimated when he jumped on a huge explosive meant to kill the entire team.

Not just the team, you remember. The city.

He’s lucky, they say. But it’s more than that. His magic was strong — it was strong enough — but only just. There isn’t an inch of him that hasn’t been healing these past weeks: no inch un-hurt.

Well, that’s not true…there was an inch that escaped unscathed. Nine, actually.

His powers re-generate the damage with every hour that goes by — but Loki’s never been one for patience. “I feel useless,” he snaps. “What good am I to you like this?” You stroke hair back from his face, and his blue eyes slide to meet yours. “You deserve better, darling,” he says seriously. “You have needs — I insist you take your pleasure elsewhere. Lang, Barton, Rogers, even..."

His gaze drops, and he looks up under a fringe of ebony lashes. "But someone inferior to me, that is all I ask.”

You almost shove his shoulder in reprimand before stopping yourself. He sighs again. “We can’t go on like this: you fellating me with dutiful care, and me unable to reciprocate.”

He glances at you with such weighty desolation that you almost burst out laughing as he says, “I feel like my brother — it’s terrible.”

And that does it. Your vision blurs as you pick up a pillow and bury your face in it: cackling. “What?!” he sniffs, affronted. “I have been incapacitated of my greatest boon.”

You surface from the pillow, tears of laughter smeared down your cheeks. “Greatest boon?!?” He gestures to the hard-on pitching the covers with a wilting sigh.

You trail a finger down his bicep on the side nearest you: the side that’s almost healed, but you don’t think he’s noticed. His skin is pure, pale velvet from his shoulder to his hipbone like a tan-mark.

“It doesn’t look incapacitated to me,” you say, eyeing his crotch, knowing what will happen. But you can’t resist. There’s something undeniably erotic about having him like this: needy, frustrated, a little insecure. A short puff erupts from his nostrils. “You can’t go on top: too painful. I can’t go on top: too painful. On my knees? Reverse —?” You place a gentle kiss on the side of his mouth. “I love you, Loki,” you whisper, feeling the skin shiver beneath your touch. “I don’t want anyone else- sex or no sex. I’d wait forever if it meant you healed, but…I think I know something that might work.” Loki’s face immediately tilts to you and his features flinch with the sudden movement. “But!” you say, pressing a finger to his lips. “You need to do exactly as I say, and if it hurts…we stop. Agreed?” With your finger pressed to his mouth, Loki rolls his eyes, and you smile. “Good.”

A slow, twitching, hope crawls up Loki’s expression as you move your hand and slide down the bedsheets. You lie on your back, lifting your hips and shuffling the shorts down. Loki says nothing, but his erection strains against the covers and his eyes dart from your eyes to your hips as the panties make a slow descent down your thighs. “Gods, I feel like a virgin again,” he murmurs, and his fingernails scrape against the bedsheets. He can’t quite make a fist — not yet — but if he could, he’d be doing that sexy clenching/unclenching thing where the veins in his hand stand out. Arousal slides between your legs and you make a show of drawing a finger through it. It’s a risk, you think as you raise it in front of you and rub the finger against your thumb. But you know every part of Loki, and he needs this. And now, if you’re careful, he can. Your finger, slick with your arousal, hovers close to Loki’s mouth and he opens, letting you dab it on his tongue. A dirty moan rumbles from his chest, and his eyes roll back like he’s tasted heaven. And maybe, for him, he has.

He's begged you over the past few weeks since he woke to let him touch you, to sit on his face; but he's been too delicate for that. Turning him down has been unbearable. He has a tough time controlling himself once the two of you start, and you couldn't live with yourself if you made it worse — but the lightened skin on his side is new. And it's good. “Roll on your side,” you whisper, grazing the finger down his shoulder. You press gently into the meat of his bicep. “See? It’s not bad, right?” His eyes light up. “Shhh,” you soothe, guiding the god to face you. His face contorts, a grunt slipping through his teeth. “Don’t even think about it,” he growls before the words 'maybe we should wait,' can even shape your tongue.

Loki positions himself on his side. His cock is straining against his stomach: flawless and pale against the backdrop of indigo abdominal muscle.

You kiss him a final time before curling against him, facing the wall. His cock slots perfectly between your ass-cheeks. Loki’s breath shakes against your neck: hot, quick. You hope he has his eyes closed; you hope he’s savouring every second of this as much as you are. As much as you relished the swell of his cum inside your gentle mouth over the past week since he’d recovered enough for you to show him how much you love him — this is different.

And fuck, you’ve missed him. You need this, both of you do. “Nothing fancy,” you whisper as you reach between your legs and cup the thick of his girth. Traces of pre-cum web against your fingers.  

“I don’t know what you mean, darling,” Loki croons. But beneath the bravado, his voice wavers.

The tip of his cock slides against your cunt. “We’ll need to be slow. I won’t be used to you after a month.” Loki’s chest shakes against your back with silent laughter. That must hurt, you think, but he presses a kiss into the curve of your neck. “Slow…I can do,” he says, before sucking a tender bite into the skin. Loki edges his hips forward, the crown of his cock nudging at the rim of your slit. You circle your hips, capturing it, pushing back just enough for your body to welcome him with a short pang of delicious pain. There’s an audible slurp as you take him deeper. You’d almost forgotten how good he feels inside you — almost.

“My love,” he croaks into your hair. You slide halfway down his length, and still. Loki pants gently, and you turn your face to his. “I fucking love you, Loki,” you breathe, “more than anything,” and his eyes grow wider. Those peaked brows sharpen as you sink to the base of his cock: ass meeting the flat of his toned stomach. He flinches. “I’m sorry.” You reach back and cup his jaw. Loki nuzzles into the touch. “Don’t be,” he says, tilting his hips back before burying inside you again with a whisper of, "I've missed you." Pleasure spreads beneath your skin like liquid silk. It’s everything: being in his arms; Loki buried in the deepest parts of you as his heart beats between your shoulder-blades. The ridges of his cock tug your neglected walls, an itch only he can scratch, and your fingers tighten against the bedsheets while his pretty gasps of praise caress your ear. The heat of his skin against your spine is electric. Loki’s hand slips over your waist, cupping your breast, brushing your nipple. “Be careful,” you whisper. But Loki’s kisses work down the curve of your shoulder, lingering on the angle of the blade.

His forehead presses against your skin: moist, warm, alive. Tears prick your eyes at the sudden, unwelcome, memory of when you thought you’d lost him forever. “I love you,” you moan again, and again, and again as he sinks in and retracts with each slow chant of the words.   Soon, you cum. And then, he follows. And Loki heals with each breath which makes your chest rise and fall while you slip beneath sleep: safe in his arms.

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A link to my Masterlist is here

[1d1195]

Chances

~5k words

From Me: It's been about 2 minutes since my last love at first sight story so I figured that was long enough for another one. Just a silly little thing.

Warnings: A tiny bit of smut. Also she's shorter than Harry (only relevant for 20 seconds, max). Other than that, should be fluff fluff fluff.

Summary: Airports are gross, overpriced, and extremely anxiety-inducing. She hates being there.

But it's also where she sits with a really cute guy who makes her feel like she's flying from the moment she looks at him and before takeoff even begins.

What was it about airports that were so romantic? Everyone knew how gross they were. A petri dish of diseases on every surface. Overpriced food and drinks. Not to mention the exorbitant price of books and magazines. Almost everyone passing through was stressed with worry about missing their flight, losing their bag, losing their kid, or personal items. She was one of them. Even with an hour and half cushion she was worried it would take off or something while she was going to get a coffee.

Which was perhaps why she didn’t notice where she chose to sit at her gate. All that anxiety festering and building in her that only the relief of flopping into one of the seats near an outlet would release. She put her coffee in the little cup holder, tucked her bag beneath her feet and placed the overpriced book on her lap.

Someone called out for another person making her head tip up at the noise.

It was fate. Destiny. Whatever corny thing a romance writer would say it was. But there were only so many places her eyes could fall, and they happened to land on him.

What was it about making eye contact with a guy her age at the airport that made her feel like she was in a Hallmark movie? He gave her a polite smile. One that was downright pretty. Too pretty to be on a man's lips and one that made her heart skip a beat.

Hence why she was thinking about the romanticism of the airport in the first place.

She sincerely hoped she returned his kind smile because at the very least she didn’t want to be rude. But it was all a matter of seconds; this little romance novel scene she was playing out. Her cheeks felt warm with a rush of blood to her skin before she dropped her gaze back to her book. She had to. If she didn’t, she was going to do something crazy like profess how taken she was with him after meeting those stunning green eyes for half a second like the love at first sight she saw in movies.

But was that his gaze she felt heating up her skin? She refused to look up, but the words of her novel blurred together, and she could only think about how blue was one of her favorite colors growing up but green might have kicked that right out of the top spot in that moment.

*

Their flight was delayed which stressed her out beyond comprehension. It wasn’t even that long but if she didn’t have somewhere to be when she landed, she would have felt a lot better. She swore she was the last person to board the plane, and it only fueled her anxiety further.

But if it weren’t for the delay, her being last, or the fact that she was going to miss the rehearsal dinner for her friend’s wedding, the anxiety of seeing the hot guy from the gate was sitting next to her empty seat was surely going to give her a heart attack at the ripe age of her late twenties.

She felt her cheeks burning in recognition as he smiled again at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

That pretty face that was going to haunt her dreams for a lifetime. “Are you 12A?” He asked. The window seat, fortunately. His voice was warm and gentle.

“Yeah, sorry,” she bit her lip.

He chuckled standing in the aisle to get out of her way so she could get settled. “S’nothing t’apologize for.”

“I’m sure you thought you were going to have the row to yourself,” she sighed and placed her oversized purse on her seat so she could stow her carryon above her head.

“Allow me,” he offered and hoisted the bag to the storage space as if she hadn’t crammed a week’s worth of clothes and shoes inside it for only a long weekend. “S’okay. S’not a big plane. They said it was full.”

Stupid airports and their romantic goggles.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully and slipped into their row.

She noted all of his items were ready: a book tucked into the seat back compartment, a bottle of water stowed there as well, and his phone and headphones that he pulled from his pocket and placed on the tray once he was seated again. She fiddled with her bag, pulling out the items she wanted tucked into the spaces she had easy access to as well. Most importantly, she grabbed the travel package of disinfectant wipes to clean off her little home away from home for the next few hours.

“Oh, that’s a smart idea,” he smirked admiring her tidiness.

“I think Covid taught me that airplanes are one of the most disgusting places on the planet.”

He chuckled. “I suppose s’fair,” he nodded in agreement. “D’you have an extra one?” He asked. She nodded and held the little package out to her row-mate. He took two and repeated her routine to clean. The air vent, the tray table, the belt buckle and arm rest. He used the second to wipe down his headphones, phone, and book with a quick swipe. She held out a little sandwich bag she used for trash while on the plane. “Y’must fly a lot,” he smirked at her preparedness.

“Used to,” she took a deep breath. “I still get kind of nervous.”

“Honestly, would think y’were not human if y’didn’t get nervous.”

The announcements were being made and she focused on the flight attendants and their safety demonstration. Well, tried to. The man beside her was so handsome it was like he demanded to be stared at; it was hard not to comply to such a silent request. He looked effortlessly comfortable and so attractive it was unfair. But maybe it was those stupid airport goggles making her fall in love with someone relatively close to her age and perhaps he was only a little hot.

But as he reached for the air vent again, his sweatshirt sleeve slid down his wrist so that her eyes darted to his forearm and landed on the tattoo on the inside of his arm. It wasn’t even something she would qualify as a sexy tattoo, but it was there. As it appeared in her vision, all her dignity, self-respect, and thought of him being only a little hot, flew right out the window.

Stupid men.

The plane jolted a little as it started its take-off, making her gasp and she gripped the armrest tight. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as it settled into its rhythm. The final announcement that the ascent was going to begin came through the speaker and the plane got quiet as it always did at that time. “Hey, love?”

It was pathetic she recognized his voice already. Pathetic that she was going to respond to the little pet name. They had barely spoken. But the two little words were soft and sexy. In a gentle kind of way. She peeked out of one eye to glance at him. She swallowed thickly around the nerves. “Uh... yeah?”

“I can hold your hand, if y’want. S’just a tight grip y’got on m’arm,” it was so gentle. He didn’t even sound annoyed or pained. She gasped again, released his arm from her goddamn death grip, and covered her mouth. How fucking embarrassing. She didn’t even notice.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“No, s’fine,” he assured her, his smile was so kind. Like she was a wounded bird that he found after it flew into the window. “Here,” he offered pulling her hand from her mouth and laced their fingers together. “M’not a fan of takeoff either,” he explained giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Did he feel how perfectly their hands fit together? Or did she imagine it? These airplane goggles were thick as hell. She was fucked when she got off the plane and never saw him again. They were silent during the remainder of the ascent and once the bell signaled that they could unbuckle, the pilot announced they were at cruising altitude, Harry gave her hand a squeeze again before releasing it.

“Thank you,” the sincerity in his voice made her blush and she was glad it was dark on the plane and the flight would remain dark. Because if she had to see how pretty his face was for the whole flight, she wasn’t going to make it. It was unfair that someone so handsome was seated next to her and she would never see him again. Someone who was thanking her for holding her hand. After she tried to rip his arm hair out.

Did his hand feel cold? Her hand felt cold. It was so ridiculous she just wanted to scream.

She had the worst luck.

*

Harry had the best luck. The pretty girl from the gate was in the same row as him. He got to hold her hand. The flight was only five or so hours long and the thought of it being delayed was miserable. But there she was looking so unbelievably beautiful.

There’s a REALLY pretty girl at my gate. He texted Mitch the second he saw her.

You better not be creepy. Sarah says there’s NOTHING worse than a guy being creepy at the airport.

I’m not going to make my soulmate uncomfortable. I’m just going to ask her every question that pops into my head to get to know her, and then ask how many kids she wants to have with me.

...Best of luck to her.

I’m probably not even going to talk to her :( She looks busy and what are the chances she’ll be sitting next to me? There’s no way I have that kind of luck.

But Harry did have that luck it seemed. The pretty girl was tucked into their row against the window, her head resting against the side of the plane. She was clean, organized, and adorable. He liked how she spoke to the flight attendant. Like she was a hinderance by being a passenger. It was sweet and he admired her kindness and thoughtfulness. She was so grateful when Harry handed her the little bag of pretzels and the drink she got.

“Reading something good?” She asked quietly.

Harry smiled and held it out to her so she could read the back cover. “Something m’sister recommended.”

She intently read the words on the back and nodded. “I think I’m going to add it to my never-ending list.”

God, he wanted to say he could give it to her when he was finished. But he was never going to see her again. So maybe he didn’t have the luck he hoped he did. “How ‘bout you?”

“Um...” she smiled. “It’s nothing... intelligent. It’s a brain-rotting romance thing. I don’t know, I like to read trashy stuff on the plane. Take my mind off it and everything else.”

“I see,” he didn’t ask Gemma a lot of questions, but he knew that meant it was filled with spicy romantic scenes that he could only dream about with someone as pretty as her. But that would be what Sarah called creepy, so he pushed that thought away quickly. “M’not a huge e-book person.”

“They’re good for travel,” she smiled. “I love bookstores, and I think I could build a whole house out of the books I have or want to buy. But traveling... it’s nice to have something compact. But I bought a book at the convenience store before we left. Which is so dumb because the mark up is like an extra ten dollars and I could have gotten it for free on this thing but the Wi-Fi is a bit of a problem sometimes, like I can’t get my new book to—” She paused as Harry listened intently. It was so disarming listening to her talk about books and her e-reader. It was adorable. Her eyes, even in the faint glow from the emergency airplane lights, were lit with excitement. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

“No!” He frowned, shaking his head hurriedly. He immediately missed the excitement in her eyes. “Y’weren’t. I never thought ‘bout how the traveling is easier with it. I had t’forgo a whole outfit t’get m’books in m’bag.”

She smiled and sipped her drink. “I always do that. Except I’m sure you felt how heavy my bag was, I didn’t do it this time. I told myself I wasn’t going to overpack and I just couldn’t do it.”

“M’sister has a hard time with it too.”

“It’s impossible, I think. Especially for an event, you know?”

Was Harry still smiling? He couldn’t stop smiling. She just had this air about her. The air between them was vibrating and it wasn’t because of turbulence. She had to feel it, right? Harry couldn’t be imagining this electric feeling that was pulsing between them. They were just sitting there, staring at each other.

“Can I say something crazy?” He asked.

“Crazy? Are you planning on murdering me?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I jus’...” he paused and scanned her face memorizing the moment wondering how on earth he could meet her again. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to have a plane ride back with her. But there couldn’t be that much good luck. “This is a bit...” he trailed off and he chuckled. His face was only inches from hers. She bit her lip.

“Yeah... it is.”

“S’crazy, right?”

She nodded. “It is,” she whispered back.

“Hi,” he said quietly, a smile growing on his face.

“Hi,” she giggled.

*

When the plane began its descent, he held her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. It made her stomach flutter. As they left their little row, her heart hammered in her chest. How unfair it was that she would never see him again. He grabbed her bag from the compartment above and he walked with her all the way to baggage claim. They chatted a little more. Smiling and giggling. She didn’t even realize he was still holding her hand.

At least the airport goggles were working both ways it seemed.

“You let me go on and on about overpacking and you checked a bag?” He smirked, grabbed her hand again and led her toward the rideshare pickup spot. “Can I say something crazy?”

“Are y’planning on murdering me?” He asked.

“You felt it right?”

“Felt what?” The smile melted off her face and she dropped his hand like it burned her. “Whoa, hey,” he laughed and snagged it quick into his again. “S’bad joke,” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. “Course I felt it.”

She looked at her feet. The seconds felt like hours as she looked for something to say. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she frowned looking back at him.

“Yeah...” He sighed. “It’s...” he sighed. There was so much he wanted to say. So much she wanted to tell him. They needed more time, more space.

She wanted to live on that plane.

Harry wanted to stay at that airport.

She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. It was crazy. Outlandish. Ridiculous. She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin. He smiled on her mouth making her want to melt. His hand found her lower back, pulled her closer because in just sneakers she couldn’t reach his lips completely. With her firmly in his embrace, he nipped at her lower lip. It was so sinful she shivered.

The honking interrupted their moment, pulling each other apart. “I have to go,” she whispered looking at the Uber that matched the license plate listed on her phone.

“I know.”

“Hi,” she whispered with a quiet laugh.

“Hi.”

“It was... really nice meeting you,” her smile was so goddamn pretty it was going to make Harry cry.

“It was nice meeting you, love,” he answered. Safely tucked her into the back of the cab. She unrolled the window.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry,” he said.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Nice meeting you, Harry.”

*

“You have outdone yourself,” she smiled as she turned. The woman before her had a stunning smile, her hair half pinned, her white silk pajamas shimmering in the light. “They’re stunning.”

“You’re one to talk, I’d give you a hug but I don’t want to mess anything up,” she wrinkled her nose. “You love them?” She asked.

“I love them. They might upstage me.”

“I sincerely doubt it. You look stunning already.”

“Do you hate me for not making you a bridesmaid?”

“God, no,” she shook her head. “I’m more of a behind the scenes kind of person anyway. If you need anything today, I’m your girl,” she promised. “I was too far away,” she shrugged.

“Don’t remind me,” she frowned. “These flowers are the things of dreams. You are the best,” she sighed dreamily. “Can I see my bouquet?” Her frown quickly turned into a smile again. “I’ve been dreaming about it.”

She went to the bucket that was at the edge of what would be the ceremony floor and pulled the bouquet from it. She felt so proud and happy with the arrangement she made for one of her long-time best friends. “Seph,” she smiled. “You look beautiful,” she reminded her.

Persephone grinned admiring the bouquet. “You’re incredible... How was your flight? Other than delayed?”

“It was...” she tried to think about anything but the color green. “Good.”

“Oh?” Seph’s perfectly plucked eyebrow arched suspiciously “How good? Did you join the mile high club?”

“Oh my God, Persephone, of course not.”

“Well, you don’t say good like that if he’s not cute.”

A slight pause as she looked at the ceiling and then back at her friend. “He was really cute.”

“You’re a walking Hallmark movie.”

“That’s literally how I felt.” They giggled then she sighed thinking about the kiss she shared with a stranger. It was so unlike her to get all in a twist about a guy she just met. This wasn’t normal. It was like she was still in the airport. There were so many things they didn’t talk about. So many things she didn’t know about him and never would. It was unfair and yet she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she was still flying. Shaking her head, she turned to her friend once more. “Alright, I have to finish these flower arrangements. Not sure if you know this, but there’s a wedding happening here tonight.”

“Sorry about your airplane man, babe,” Seph squeezed her shoulder.

“Hey, no frowns. It’s your wedding day,” she turned back to the table she was working on before her friend’s interruption. “I think some moments are meant to just... exist in that moment.”

*

Harry had thought about only three things that day. Breathing, cake, and of course the beautiful girl he met on the plane.

You KISSED her?! Sarah asked.

I know... I’ve never met anyone like her.

That’s a real bummer, Harry, honestly. It was and Sarah was right. At first, he was joking, but now he was certain she was his soulmate, and he just let her go. But what choice did he have? Yes, there was the feeling of his heart beating faster. The excitement of making her laugh. But there was the calmness, the tranquility of being beside her. Holding her hand.

Maybe it was morbid, but Harry was certain he was looking for someone to hold his hand if the plane were to go down and maybe that’s what a soulmate really was.

It was easy. Easy to talk to her, make her laugh. It was easy to get to know her and he didn’t even know anything about her. He didn’t know where she was from, what she did, where she was going, but he just knew that she was his and he let her go. There were too many variables. Too many things he couldn’t control.

“Harry, you almost done?”

“Jus’ putting the finishing touches,” he mumbled.

“We’re going to be late!”

“They won’t start without us,” he rolled his eyes.

“If there is a speck of—”

“I’m clean, I’m clean,” he shook his head, coming to the other room and brushing his hands along his coat. “Let’s get married, yeah?”

*

The maid of honor talked about how lucky the pair of them were to find one another. How there were an infinite number of opportunities for them to not have met but there was this special moment destined for each other. Where Persephone would walk into the library to sit in her favorite study spot and if she wasn’t so superstitious she would have just found another table.

But instead, she walked right up to the table, told her future husband he was in her spot, and she was preparing for an exam, and she wouldn’t let him use her favorite seat.

The best man spoke about how he was actually destined to be with the groom for forever and ever which made the entire place laugh.

But talk of luck and destiny just made her feel miserable on the inside. If she asked for his number or where he lived, it would be hours from where she lived. She would be devastated. A kiss was a good ending to her little story. That would suffice.

Maybe he already had a girlfriend. That would work too. Something to make her feel like a horrible person and lessen the blow that her soulmate was somewhere out there never to be seen again. Harry was just a guy that held her hand on a plane and talked about books with her for hours so she wouldn’t be scared. Someone that split his snacks with her even though she didn’t know him.

No. She couldn’t think about him. She had to stop thinking about him. It wasn’t good for her brain or her heart.

It was a beautiful ceremony. That’s what she needed to focus on. Persephone was a gorgeous bride and the event was just... perfect. “I think I’ve given your name and number to just about every single woman here,” Seph said sliding into a seat beside her and kissed her cheek.

She laughed. “Well thank you,” she smiled. “Let me see,” she held her hand out for the one with her new jewelry and she admired the pretty diamond that glimmered alongside the new band of diamonds below it. “Everything is beautiful.”

“This place is beautiful because of you. Just like you said.”

“Oh... it was beautiful before. I just added to it.”

“I didn’t see it though. It’s a bargain if you can envision it like this. I seriously wouldn’t have picked it without you saying you’d do the flowers,” Seph explained. “You saw so much more than I did.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a place on earth that doesn’t benefit from flowers.”

“Well, thank you,” she squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t be having a wonderful day without you. I know it was a lot to travel out here and—”

“No, no. Don’t even. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Flowers or no flowers.”

Persephone grinned. “Well... in other news... do you see anyone as cute as your airplane man? Lerone has a lot of single friends.”

She smirked and shook her head. “No offense, Seph, but there is no one that’s going to be as cute as my airplane guy.”

“No one?”

Her head snapped up to the voice that she had already planned on dreaming about for the rest of her life. Her eyes met the same green gaze she had the pleasure of looking at for five hours while chatting about books and whispering about nothing of importance (but it all seemed important at the time). There was no way. She didn’t have this kind of luck. If there was a squeaky carriage at the grocery store she was sure to pick it. There was no way that—

“Hi Harry!” Persephone smiled. “Do you two know each other?”

“Something like that,” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Hi,” Harry grinned at her.

She cleared her throat, adrenaline flowing through her body. “Hi,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Harry baked our cake. He went to school with Lerone.”

“Oh,” she swallowed.

“And I heard y’did all the work with these pretty flowers,” Harry smiled.

“She’s like the flower queen,” Persephone giggled.

“I see.”

There was a pause while they stared at each other. Harry grinning like a madman, he was sure. But she was stunning. A floral dress draped her body, her hair half pinned up. She was so pretty. Somehow even prettier than the way she looked on the airplane and Harry was certain she could never be prettier than the moment she sat next to him.

“Hi,” she laughed.

“Hi,” he chuckled.

“Of all the gin joints.”

Harry took a seat beside her. Persephone had moved onto the next table and yet, she hadn’t even noticed. “I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you, love,” he grabbed her hand. “Been thinking ‘bout the plane, y’e-reader, and that earth-shattering kiss.”

Her cheeks heated up and Harry reached out to brush his thumb on her cheek. “This is insane,” she whispered.

“I know,” he agreed.

“I don’t have luck like this,” she explained. “I’m the kind of person that has their luggage get lost. Or my coat will snag on the doorknob. If I didn’t want to be paired with someone in a group project in high school, I could guarantee I was going to be in their group.”

“Y’think it’s lucky you’re meeting me?” He practically wiggled his eyebrows. Trying to sound egotistical but all it did was make her fall harder for him.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Well...yeah,” she swallowed. “I mean... what else am I supposed to call it?”

“It doesn’t have t’be luck. Can jus’ be meeting you.”

“I don’t think it works that way for me.”

“Can I dance with you?” He asked.

“I’m not very good and I think there’s a good chance I’ll step on your toes and—”

Harry was already helping her stand and tugging her to the dance floor. She did step on his toes, not hard, but her quiet “sorry” was lost on Harry. It felt perfect to hold her in his arms. One hand in his, her other at the back of his neck, his free hand on the small of her back. They fit like puzzle pieces. “A florist, hmm?” He hummed right by her ear.

“A baker?” She replied.

He chuckled. “What are the chances?”

*

“D’you have any idea how good y’look?” He groaned. She was in just a T-shirt. Harry’s T-shirt. He propped his head in his hand as he looked at her laying in his bed. His finger skimming just below the hem of the shirt. It barely touched her thighs and the only thing that stood in his way was a scrap of fabric she called underwear.

She giggled. “Back at you.”

“This is insane,” he smiled and pressed his lips to hers.

“It is,” she whispered.

If all her bad luck had been to make this weekend happen, she was forever grateful. This was worth it. Harry was worth it. “When’s your flight?”

“Quarter of five. When’s yours?”

“The same, of course.”

She smiled and tucked her face into his chest. “How far away are you from my shop?”

“Only ‘bout a half hour drive,” he told her. “Why?”

“Just... wondering.”

“Jus’ want t’know how much time and distance is between you and a toe-curling orgasm?”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I wasn’t talking ‘bout you,” he peppered a line of kisses down the side of her face and along her neck, down the curve of her shoulder, even when the T-shirt got in the way. “You are so pretty,” he mumbled pulling at his shirt to touch her soft skin and curves. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so pretty.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No, I’d remember you,” he smiled pressing his lips to her collarbone. He pulled the shirt off her and he brushed his thumbs across her nipples softly. Making them perk up more than they already were with the cold air from the room and no barrier between her. “Definitely remember this,” he mumbled into her skin.

“I have to pack,” she whispered but her voice was air and her resolve wasn’t there.

“Put it in m’checked bag,” his lips were occupied by one of her nipples making it extremely difficult for her to concentrate. “Jus’ shove everything in there. Then s’a promise I’ll see y’after we land.”

Her heart fluttered. “You want to see me again?”

He popped his head up from licking at her like she was candy. The air was even chillier against the sensitive skin without Harry’s warm mouth wrapped around her. “M’sorry, was I not clear?”

She smirked. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about airport goggles.”

“Airport goggles?” He repeated.

“I have really bad luck, Harry. I just worry that the idea of me in an airport because I’m roughly your age... or like, you know airplane food is a real thing? Not just a joke? Something about the altitude messing with your tastebuds or something. So maybe this is all an illusion, is what I’m saying. Maybe I am really unlucky because when we get back to our real life we won’t have airport goggles and—”

“Kitten,” he chuckled and rubbed his thumb across her lip. “Shh,” he whispered and pressed a soft kiss on her mouth.

“I’m just saying—”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “I hear you. But m’telling you, there’s no such thing as airport goggles. Even if there are, m’never taking them off.”

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