#only to entirely fuck up my weekend plans. no thank u

[duskythesomething]

love when my grown ass woman of a coworker begs for people to take her shifts all the time :/

[loveyouprongs]

are you awake?

prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader

upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words

authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

masterlist

you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.

"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.

you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.

“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”

he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.

“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.

“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.

you looked beautiful, he thought.

“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.

“did i say that out loud?”

“you did.”

“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.

“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.

“what happened this time?”

“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”

you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-

“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”

“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”

“you’re making me be real?”

“oh, nevermind.”

had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.

“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”

“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”

a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.

“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”

“of course”

“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.

“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”

“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.

“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.

“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.

hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.

it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.

“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.

“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.

“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”

he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.

“but don’t you like being held?”

“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”

“there’s no sense to cuddling!”

“there’s sense to everything!”

“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.

you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.

“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”

he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, now get some sleep.”

the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.

it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.

remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.

“are you awake yet.”

“no.”

“oh, okay, sorry.”

“mmm.”

two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”

“are my eyes open?”

“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”

“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.

“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.

“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.

“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”

he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.

“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”

you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.

“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”

remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.

“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.

i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.

[paarksunghoon]

hello omg i love love LOVE deep honey, which is rare cus i usually do not touch fluff at all but smth abt the way u wrote got to me. i was wondering that in case u wanted an idea, u could write abt sunghoon rushing over to take care of his sick girlfriend? :3 just a thought or any headcannons u have on that would do fine but if u wanna turn it into a drabble or fic that's good too, especially if it's a continuation of deep honey

anyways, that is all from me, have a good day!!!

thank you so much :’) for all of my nsfw drabbles and content, I really enjoy writing the softer kind of stories. switched up the request just a little. consider this a token of my appreciation for your kindness. xx

ps this is what I’m imaging him wearing

***

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that nothing good could ever happen when you text someone past 2AM.

Both existential and physical dread consume you the second you open your texts and see a plethora of unread messages due to your current state of being. You’ve been bedridden for what feels like years but it’s only been a few of days. It’s technically Sunday morning and technically you should be fast asleep, especially since you’d taken medication to help you rest throughout the night. But seems like your body has other plans for you.

Tossing and turning won’t do either. Your head feels much better than it has for the past two days. You’d taken two days off or classes because of intense migraines paired with what seems like onset sickness due to it being flue season. Guilt over missing classes and groveling to your professors (even if they extended grace and told you to rest up) ate you alive, only ebbing away when you closed your eyes and slept.

Your roommate has been away because of a family event and what was once a promising weekend full of relaxation and the apartment to yourself is now a time for you to wallow in your misery. You’ve gone through countless tissues and have slept more in the past few days than in your entire life. It feels like your head might as well be cut off with how many problems your eyes, nose, and throat are giving you.

To pass the time, social media distracts you for a few minutes and you catch glimpses of what your friends have been up to. Partying. Studying. Eating at the cafeteria. All of these are mundane events you took for granted because you’d love to be anywhere but rotting away in your apartment. You’d rather studying for a midterm over feeling like you can’t move without losing your breath.

You take this time to catch up on texts as well. There are so many what remain unread by you and guilt crawls up your spine as you begin to reply to everything.

hi riki!! sorry I haven’t replied yet. I’ve been sick all weekend :/ I wish I could’ve gone to jake’s game with u bc it looked so fun ☹️

jungwon ur your cat is so cute omg…please send more vids. also sorry for replying late im sick lol

sunoo I swear to god if you watch another episode without me, I’m gonna beat your ass whenever I recover

yes, mom. I’m resting as much as I can! sorry I haven’t responded sooner. I still feel sick

heeseung do u think sunghoon would be weirded out if i text him right now. pls advise 😁

Heeseung immediately reads the message and the text bubble appears straight away. He’s one of your closest friends in university who always happens to be friends with Park Sunghoon, the guy you’ve been talking to for the past month and a half.

heeseung: Nah not weird. He’d probably like hearing from you

heeseung: He was asking about you earlier today and said you haven’t been talking to him as much

you: looking at my phone made me nauseous :/

heeseung: You should probably tell him that bc he’s been staring at his phone all day

you: soooo it wouldn’t be weird if I texted him out of the blue rn?? usually we don’t like…start conversations so late

heeseung: You’re overthinking. Just text him and if he doesn’t reply then he’s asleep and will text you in the morning

you: I’m scared of fucking it up

heeseung: There’s nothing to fuck up. If he gets mad that you took care of yourself (he won’t be) then he’s the one who fucked up

you: ugh when did u become the voice of reason

heeseung: :)

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard after you’ve opened Sunghoon’s text. You can imagine his slight pout when you think about how he’d react when he realizes you haven’t texted him back, which makes you feel even more guilty than you already are.

You’re not really sure how you started talking to him, let alone befriended Heeseung to the point where he started inviting you to hang out with him and his group of friends. Heeseung had originally been a study partner for a shared class back when the two of you were sophomores. It’s been a couple of years since then and now most of your conversations consist of TikTok jokes and Heeseung having to deal with you pining over one of his friends.

Sunghoon is every bit of cool you can imagine. He was so quiet when you first met him, residing in his oversized sweater since it was approaching the beginning of autumn. Heeseung invited you to a local bar on a Friday night after midterms and said your first drink would be on him if you made it before last call, knowing very well you were likely getting ready to slip underneath your blankets and call it a night.

He was right as always. You showed up wearing jeans and an old shirt with a jacket that was too big for your body. You’d made somewhat of an effort to look presentable since you’d be hanging out with his friends near campus and would rather not look like you’d gotten rolled over by a locomotive. It was there you met Sunghoon for the first time. He was so quiet that you barely heard him talk until an hour into hanging out with him, but that’s when you learned that he was someone you needed to get to know before he’d show you his loud, boisterous personality.

The more you hung out with him, the more you started to picture yourself with Sunghoon, away from the group you started to call your friends too. You’d only see him when Heeseung invited you out or if you bumped into someone else while Sunghoon was in tow with them. Neither of you seemed to cross paths otherwise and even then, Sunghoon was a bit too timid to approach you first and start a conversation.

Part of you wondered if you were ever too bold when you’d get drunk with him and your friends. You were loud, full of laughter and affection that none of your friends were surprised every time you shouted compliments across the tables and declared your love for the little group you considered to be your family away from home. Heeseung had gotten used to it pretty quickly and so did the others, albeit it took a while for their ears to stop glowing red every time you’d pull them into a drunken hug.

Maybe you sent a little too far with Sunghoon, who immediately tensed when your arms wrapped around his shoulders the first time you let your inhibitions down fully. A few beers and shots in, and Heeseung was anticipating your drunken rant about how much you love the little life the five of you had created and hoped that it would continue even after you all graduate.

Sunghoon always looked a bit intimidating with his dark, thick eyebrows and shielded his wandering eyes. He always looked like he knew what he wanted and his grace always made you think twice about what you’d say to him. Although, you knew this was the beginning of an onset crush that wouldn’t remain hidden for long, let alone when you weren’t sober.

So you’d thrown your arms around Sunghoon’s shoulder and told him how happy you were that Heeseung introduced the two of you. While you try not to think about that moment too much, you recall telling Sunghoon that he was slowly starting to become one of your favorite people because of how funny he is when people least expect it. You liked that he was so kind to his friends and that he was so confident in himself, and that you wished you could be a little more like him.

You also said he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. It was a sobering moment because he looked at you like you’d grown two heads and his shoulders felt like they might’ve been pushing you off of his body.

Stumbling with consistent apologies, none of your mutual friends seemed to notice what was happening behind them. You can picture the look on his face when your mind crosses to this moment, how he’d looked at you with bewilderment with his mouth ajar. Sunghoon didn’t say anything and you took that cue to leave him alone and head to the bar, where you hoped distance would make this night seem less tragic than it was.

When morning came around, you were the only person in your shared group chat who declined getting a late morning breakfast due to your embarrassment. Even during the next weekend, when Jake opened up his apartment for a casual hang out, you were the only person who didn’t show up, citing work and study stresses keeping you away from your friends.

Heeseung knew those were merely excuses.

“Cut the shit, Y/N. Are you okay? Did one of the guys do anything to make you uncomfortable?” The worst laced in his tone made you feel guilty for having him think the worse of people he knew before he met you.

“No, nothing like that. I think I’m the one who fucked up and made them uncomfortable.”

“Well clearly not since Jake invited you to his place. What’s going on? Do you want me to come over?”

The last thing you expected from Heeseung was to see him double over in laugher when you explained your predicament, clutching onto your bed like he’d fall to the ground if he didn’t. You’re sure that fit of laugher gave him a new set of abs.

“Sunghoon wasn’t weirded out. He texted me and asked if you were okay.” Heeseung pulled his phone out of his pocket to show you, leaving you in a cloud of confusion. “He probably likes you. Sunghoon’s a natural with girls even if he doesn’t realize they’re flirting with him. I think he likes you too because he’s acting really awkward because he doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

That night left you with more question than answers. You considered texting Sunghoon and asking if the two of you could talk, but you didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable and tell him what Heeseung told you in fear of putting your friend in an awkward position. So you let the discomfort settle and braved seeing him the next time one of your friends invited you out.

Which, to no one’s surprise, was the weekend after Jake’s get together. Seoul’s autumn carnival was in its third weekend by the time the five of you were able to find adequate time to ride every rollercoaster and eat until your stomachs caved in. You loved the fair and were the first person to buy an admission ticket. Poor Jay, who wasn’t the biggest fan of big rides in the first place, tagged along with Jake every time he insisted on it. You tried your best to keep some distance between yourself and Sunghoon, even if Heeseung said you were being ridiculous. You’d chosen to stick by him until Sunghoon volunteered to help you pick up the food trays when you lost a game of rock-paper-scissors.

“I’m sorry that I acted weird that night,” he said, cutting the silence as the two of you waited for your order. He didn’t have to explain. You knew what he was talking about. “Heeseung said you felt bad for making me feel uncomfortable but I need you to know you didn’t make me feel that way.”

That was the longest sentence he’d ever said to you, let alone it being the first time he initiated a conversation with you. He watched as you stood with your eyes wide and mouth parted like you wanted to say something but didn’t know how to say it.

“I think you just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting you to say nice things about me. I didn’t realize we were that close because you’d been affectionate with everyone but me up until that night.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I was, uh, flustered.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He averted your gaze and looked at his shoes momentarily before he looked back at you. “I liked what you said. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

You laughed at the awkwardness dissipating. “I thought I crossed a line, or something. You just sat there and I thought I fucked up by touching you.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t. I…I liked it a lot.” You tried to hide a grin by keeping your bubbling excitement under wraps failed miserably. Sunghoon smiled too, offering to carry most of the trays back to the table where your friends were too hungry to talk for the next ten minutes.

The memory brings you back to the present where your thumbs hover the keyboard. You start to read back the conversation between the two of you and feel those butterflies erupt in your stomach for the umpteenth time. The two of you have talked about anything and everything. Nothing is off limits. So why is texting him to let him know you’ve been sick for the past few days so difficult for you?

you: hi

you: sorry I haven’t texted a lot in the past few days. I’ve been having migraines and now I’ve caught a cold ):

you: im sorry for texting so late too

He texts immediately.

sunghoon: You don’t have to be sorry. Are you feeling better now?

sunghoon: Actually don’t answer that

Your phone rings.

“Hey,” you say with your phone propped against your ear. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m the only who’s calling you when you’re sick, so I’m technically the one bothering you.” His laugh on the other line makes you smile a little too hard. “I was really worried. None of the guys heard from you so I figured you needed some space.”

“Unfortunately. I had to skip a few classes because it hurt to stand up. I’m pretty sure I’ve slept more this past week than I have in the last month.”

“I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

“I feel bad that I haven’t been able to talk to you.”

As if Sunghoon could sense you pouting, he clicks his tongue and reassures you. “It’s fine, Y/N. I’d probably do the same thing. I can’t imagine how much pain you’ve been in.”

“I would honestly rather study and take a million midterms than go through this again. I feel like someone just took their shoe off of my head.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine, maybe?”

You cough a little. “No, but thank you. My friend dropped off a lot of NyQuil and other stuff to help me. It’s working…kind of. Still feel like shit, though.”

“…Can I come over? To help you with your sickness, of course. I can bring you soup.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You frantically rise from your bed amidst his words and realize there are tissues on the ground and dirty clothes strewn everywhere because of your lack of energy. Your living room must be a mess, too, and this would also be the first time Sunghoon would see you without any makeup on.

“I want to. But I mean, only if you’re up for it. I don’t want to stress you out since you’re sick. I just want to help make you feel better. That…and I miss you.”

Sunghoon’s never been so direct before. Even though the two of you have been talking for a while, neither of you have been so forward about it. Conversations are always subtly flirty to the point where the effervescent feeling simmers just underneath the surface. The two of you have hung out without the rest of your friends and have been alone before, but neither one of you has gone so far as you be so bold about the other.

“I miss you too,” you whisper into the phone.

“Give me thirty minutes. I’ll come with soup.”

He hangs up and with a newfound sense of urgency, you make your bed and throw away any stray trash. You put your dirty laundry in the hamper, which is piled high and untouched. It’ll be a problem for when you’re not sick.

The living room isn’t too bad. You straighten furniture and throw away empty takeout containers and wash a few utensils. The tasks don’t feel as draining as they did a few days ago and you’re starting to regain a little bit of your breath.

True to his word, Sunghoon arrives thirty minutes after he said he would. You open the door and look at him. He’s wearing blue hoodie and sweatpants with specs that make him look significantly more attractive than you’re used to.

“Hi,” Sunghoon says with a gentle smile. “I missed you.”

You bite your lip and blurt out your first thought. “You look really good in those glasses.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “Thank you. Can I come in?”

“Right, right.” You step aside and he follows you into your apartment. He takes his shoes off and places them neatly by the shoe rack.

“I might need to reheat this. I got it from that place near my apartment. You know, the one with the yellow banner?”

“I love that place.”

He smiles at you. “I know. Can I heat up some soup for you?”

When you nod, Sunghoon moves to the correct cabinet and pulls out everything he needs. It astounds you because he’s only ever been to your apartment twice before, both times with your other friends in tow. It dawns on you that it’s the first time the two of you are alone in your space. You’re touched that he remembers where your things are.

He beckons you to sit on the counter in front of the steaming bowl and the aroma of spices makes your mouth water. You haven’t been able to eat consistently in the past few days, surviving on bland foods like bread and crackers to sustain your health because anything else made you feel sicker than you were. The steam feels good against your skin and you dig in right away.

Sunghoon pulls your hair back when it gets close to the rim and holds it for you while you lap up the soup. It seems as though you’re hungrier than you thought because you sit there wordlessly, shoveling liquid into your mouth while Sunghoon watches.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I must look like a zoo animal.”

“You’re sick, Y/N. You have nothing to apologize for. The first meal you can stomach is the best one.” It’s like he gets you. Sunghoon continues to hold your hair back until you’re finished. He washes the bowl and spoon, and puts it back where they belong.

Sunghoon turns around and looks at you under the ambient lighting you and your roommate put up in lieu of the overhead lights. It feels like he’s inspecting you and you try really hard not to think about the fact that you don’t feel presentable in this moment.

“Your apartment feels very you,” Sunghoon says. “I like all of the green furniture and the art on the wall.”

“My roommate picked the decor out but I’m starting to understand why she loves art so much.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks, looking at you. “Would you want to go to an art museum with me?”

“I’d really like that.”

Sunghoon pulls you by the hand to your couch and you try your best not to feel flustered with his touch. He sits you down on the cushion and immediately you feel like you need to be hyper vigilant because he’s looking around the apartment and you’re wondering if he can see the messes you see.

“Do you have a blanket? We could watch some TV. Or I could go. I don’t know.”

“Don’t go.” You say it too quickly but Sunghoon’s shoulders relax. “The blankets are beside the couch.”

He drapes it over you, leaving himself to fend for the cold. Although you’re sure he’s pretty warm, you open up the blanket and invite him to share it with you.

This is new territory. You two have just been talking. But Sunghoon isn’t deterred. He slots himself next to you and doesn’t shy away when he feels your arm pressed against him.

“Sorry for the mess. And for, well…” He watches you gesture to your face, which is undoubtedly red with dark circles underneath your eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. I still like you.”

You aren’t used to him being so upfront like this. He watches you with easy eyes, the kind of feeling that makes you believe what he says. Sunghoon is pretty reserved when it comes to these types of things and you often find yourself being the one to push him towards his bolder side. But even though you feel flustered by his words and underneath his stare, you like this newer side of him.

“I’m such a mess.”

Sunghoon watches you push your forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide yourself from him. He smiles at your antics and loves the feeling of your body on his. He’s been hesitant to do things like hold your hand or kiss your cheek in fear or overstepping a boundary. He doesn’t know what came over him when he held your hair back from falling into the hot soup. He knows very well that he could’ve asked where you kept your hair ties, but helping you when he knows you need it felt like the right thing to do.

Now, he wonders if you’re growing bolder with him too. You let your forehead rest against his hoodie as you take deep breaths. He hears you sniffle a few times and nearly coos at the mere thought of you suffering from your sickness. When you pull yourself away from him, the tip of your nose is slightly runny and your eyes look a bit more red than usual.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

He bites his lip. “You could look worse.” You try not to let your cheeks rise in heat.

“You’re just being nice.”

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head. He could never lie about how he feels towards you. “Nope. You still look really cute.” He watches the gears work inside your head and locates the TV remote when you don’t say anything. “What do you want to watch?”

“I dunno.”

“C’mon, you must’ve been watching TV while you were cooped up here.”

You shake your head. “Migraine, remember? Felt like my eyes were gonna burst.”

This time, he coos out loud. Sunghoon puts on a show you’ve mentioned enjoying in the past and hopes he chose correctly. You seem to be mellowing out and paying attention to the screen in front of you until you start breathing heavily. It’s not until he hears you try to silence a small coughing fit that he shoots up from his seat and pours you a glass of water.

“Here.” Sunghoon doesn’t let you hold the glass. Instead, he beckons your mouth open by placing the rim between your lips and lets you swallow the water, tilting it up until you’ve consumed all of it. He wipes the excess water from the corners of your mouth with his thumb and looks down at you with concern. “Do you have any tea? I can make you some. Hopefully that’ll soothe your throat.”

“Stupid medicine isn’t working,” you grumble. “I might as well perish.”

“Tea, baby,” Sunghoon says, the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. You almost don’t notice it. “Where do you keep your tea and honey?”

“Cabinet beside the fridge.”

Sunghoon comes back a few minutes later with piping hot chamomile tea with honey. You don’t know how he does it, anticipating your every need and putting just enough honey where it doesn’t feel like you’re stuffing your throat with the sweet nectar. You sip on it slowly as he situates himself back underneath the blanket and keeps his eyes on the television while you try to calm your erratic heartbeat.

Eventually, the episode finished and it’s almost four in the morning when you start to get sleepy. Sunghoon hears you yawning beside him and does his best not to grin like a lovesick idiot when you push your body against his in an attempt to get comfortable. You’re holding the empty cup loosely in your hands when your eyes start to droop and as much as Sunghoon would love to stay like this, he knows it’ll be better for you to sleep in your own bed with your back against the mattress.

“Baby,” Sunghoon whispers. He grabs the mug from your hands and sets it on the coffee table. “I think you should sleep in your bed. You’ll feel a lot better when you wake up.”

“But you’re so warm.”

He bites back a smile. “Thank you, but you’re gonna wake up with back pain and I know you’ll be mad that you didn’t sleep with pillows.”

He’s right and you know it but that doesn’t stop you from letting a whine slip past. Sunghoon doesn’t complain when you lean on him for support (or rather, you push your full weight onto him because you cannot be bothered with physical tasks at this late hour). Instead, he holds your waist with his arm and guides you into your bedroom from his memory of coming here a couple times before now.

Despite this, he’s never been inside your room. You’ve always kept the door closed but as he opens it, Sunghoon completely melts at how your bedroom is so utterly you. The dark green comforter hugs your queen-sized bed and a mountain of pillows cover the top near the bed frame. Your desk is an organized mess of notebooks, pens, and highlighters you carry with you during study sessions. Photographs in pretty frames decorate your walls along with posters of your favorite music and films.

He spots a picture of the two of you from that day at the amusement park when Heeseung insisted on taking a photo since the lighting was “perfect.” Sunghoon suspected that wasn’t the case but let him take it anyhow. He always considered that to be his first official memory with you. Knowing you might feel the same makes Sunghoon’s heart flutter.

“Let’s get you into bed, yeah?”

His soft touches make you fall much deeper into your tiredness. The mattress below you feels too good to be true as Sunghoon opens the blankets for you to crawl underneath. He watches you carefully as you scoot to one side and make yourself comfortable, wondering if you’re enjoying the side of him that wants to pamper you.

When you’re all tucked in with the blankets underneath your chin, Sunghoon can’t help but lean down and brush a few stray hair strands from your face. He caresses your cheek and holds himself back despite your lips being right in front of him. Instead, he settles for rubbing your soft cheek with his thumb before leaving.

Except, you reach out and grab onto his wrist. “Where are you going?”

His looks back at you in the dim light. “Home, baby. I’ll let you sleep.”

The pout you’re wearing is tearing him limb from limb. “I don’t want you to go home.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “Please…I haven’t seen you at all this week.” Sunghoon hears the strain in your voice and he isn’t sure if you’re awake enough to know what you’re saying. “I-I just want you here with me.”

How could he say no to that?

Sunghoon sits on the empty side of the bed and lets you guide your hand in his bigger one. He watches as you shake your head and he’s about to ask what you mean when you open the blanket.

He feels momentarily guilty when he pulls his hand away from you because he hears you whine again, but he slips off his hoodie to avoid overheating. He’s left in his sweatpants and a loose shirt when sliding into your bed right next to you.

You waste no time and attach yourself to Sunghoon, pushing your body until you’re resting on his chest. He does his best not to let his heartbeat give him away. This is the most he’s ever touched you. At best, he’d brush his hand against yours and waited for the right time to hold it. Today feels like he’s thrown caution into the wind.

Sunghoon puts his glasses on your night table and pulls you close to him, encircling his arms until he finds a comfortable position. Your warm breaths litter his skin and he feels like he could run laps with how happy he is in this moment. You look so cute with your body limp against his. He loves that you’re not hesitant around him anymore and hopes you know just how much he wants you close to him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Sunghoon says in the dark, unsure if you’re still awake or not.

“What’s your secret?”

Your eyes remain closed, eyelashes covering your beautiful eyes and your cheeks are squished into a pout against his chest. He looks down at you like you’re precious cargo and a rare gem he never wants to let go of.

“I really want to kiss you.”

You don’t say anything. Instead, Sunghoon feels you move your head until you press a kiss against his chest, allowing your lips to linger for a few seconds before reverting back to your original position.

“Kiss me tomorrow.”

Sunghoon hears you snoring soon after.

“Yeah,” he whispers to himself. “I can do that.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: penetrative sex, choking, manhandling (for one second), exhibitionism

i need u guys to trust me on this one…

"fuck baby, y’don’t even know how good you look right now," dick grayson says as he’s looking down at your arched back. the one he created with his big palm sitting in the middle of your figure, pushing down.

you’ve lost count of how many rounds it’s been since he’d dragged you away from the kickback that him and his friends were hosting, time not a question in your mind when you were being stuffed full. "fucking hell, dick," you moan out, your hands clawing at his plaid blanket with the side of your face squished into his mattress.

he was being merciless, and you already knew it was coming. work had gotten so busy and neither of you had time to plan dates, so spending weekends and days together had gotten hard. it made your boyfriend pent up and you both looked forward to when he’d take it out on you at night with the moon illuminating his room.

your body was real close to giving out, face laid against a pillow that had a mixture of both yours and dick’s saliva from previous rounds. his pace was ruthless, slamming into you as a chorus of moans slipped past both of your lips.

dick was almost completely lost in the moment. almost until his phone lit up from its place beside you, lazily throw on his bed.

time to be real pops up on his phone and his chuckle can be felt within you, a smirk playing at his lips as you turn your head to the best of your ability. "the fuck?" you ask breathlessly, questioning what made his entire demeanor change, along with his slowing pace.

a strong arm comes down to your throat, lifting you up while simultaneously choking you until you’re right beside his face. your backside is pressed against his chest, his length still filling you but his motions coming to a halt which ilicits a small whine from your throat.

maintaining his hold on your throat, not to the extent of choking you, but as a gentle reminder that he’s there and you’re his, he opens the app and flashes you the screen.

"this…that’s a fucking joke," you breathe and glance from the screen and then narrow your eyes at him. his eyes looking back at yours, except his are upturned with a nasty smirk painting his lips.

"but you look so pretty baby. c’mon, please my perfect girl," he pouts his lip dramatically. "please, please, please, princess," he sings out, knowing he has only two minutes to be on time. with a roll of your eyes, you take the phone from his hand and lean against his chest, his hand still covering your throat and a pout on your lips. the smirk doesn’t leave dick’s lips. the color on your lip is smudged, some of it showing on dick along with the small bruise growing on the side of his neck, the pink skin growing darker by the minute.

and before his three seconds give up, he’s quickly pushing you back down into the bed and taking his phone, the other side of the camera flashing a picture of your nude and arched backside and his hand that’s holding your hips with a grip that makes his fingertips turn white and his veins protrude on his forearm.

dick and you both woke up to more comments than you’d seen before, and dick grins ear to ear in the early hours of daylight, kissing your cheek. "seems like you’re a crowd favorite.”

comments

wallyswest: how ab a two man next time except it’s just me and u guys

kweenkori: thanks! you can delete this now btw

speedy: seconds?

jaytodd: are you fucking kidding me

victorisstoned: no chance you posted this and thought it was okay

donnatroy: attention whore also just a whore

[seiwas]

HI MY BELOVED ANGEL!!! i am sending u mattsun + campfire as well as kisses n hugs <33

SAINTTT hello 🥺 thank you for sending a prompty!! 🥹 idt i've ever written mattsun fully before so this is something new!

help me get back into the writing groove! send me a character + any word and i'll write a short blurb about it!

contains: exes, stranded-y situation, feelings are complicated, some expletives

mattsun + campfire

"i told you we should've brought the spare—"

"yeah, let me go back in time for a sec and do just that."

"asshole."

lesson #1: nothing good ever happens when you're stuck in a car with your ex on the way to somewhere remote.

you blame iwaizumi for this one. who the fuck chooses to spend their birthday weekend in the fucking wilderness?

(okay, you don't actually think it's so bad. to be fair, he did plan this a year ago. and it did sound like a good idea. then. at the time. anywhere with the boys was always guaranteed fun―at least, until you and matsukawa broke up.)

"can you pass me the flashlight?" he points at the backpack behind you. when you hand it over, your fingers brush over his as he takes it away from you.

and you hate it, because―

lesson #2: you should never be alone with your ex when you still have feelings for them.

you'd agreed to take two cars to the camping spot: iwaizumi's with oikawa and hanamaki and matsukawa's with you. there was no way you'd fit in one, and hanamaki ultimately decided to ride with iwaizumi because, "you and mattsun have shit to sort out," he'd said.

with night setting and the two-hour headstart they managed to get ahead of you, the best thing you and matsukawa can do is to set up camp temporarily and wait for them to come back for you come sunrise.

you sigh.

leaves crack underneath your feet as you maneuver around your camping space. the light from matsukawa's flashlight tells you where he is, just a bit deeper in the forestry as he looks for wood to help set up the fire.

you unload the car in the meantime, bringing out some snacks and sleeping bags while waiting.

matsukawa eventually comes back with arms full of wood, and you help in whatever way you can, clearing the space and fetching more twigs when needed.

the entire car ride here had been quiet, so it's not surprising that this entire process has been equally as silent. until―

"did you already pull out your tent?" he asks, half of his body disappearing into the trunk of the car.

"huh?" you go closer, "i only brought out the sleeping bags."

then he sighs, ducking out from the trunk with a hand on his hip, "we only have one tent."

"what?"

"makki must have gotten yours with his when he decided to move cars."

his hand runs through his hair, a habit you know well. it lights up all sorts of weird feelings in your tummy

you don't know how to feel―

"i can sleep in the car."

―but you know that you definitely don't want him to do that. all things considered, you were friends first. and you've both been trying to be friends again since the breakup. you wouldn't want to cause him discomfort like that.

so, with a deep breath, you say, "it's okay, we can just share."

"are you sure?" he stares at you.

you nod.

after setting up the tent, you eat a few energy bars and clean up from the day's events. the campfire provides ample enough heat, but with how fast the flames are burning, you're doubtful it'll last the two of you the entire night.

it’s much later on, past midnight, that your doubts are proven right when you and matsukawa are cramped together in a tent made for one. it started to get cold a few minutes ago, and you've found yourself inching closer and closer to the warmth you’ve gotten used to laying against for the past two years.

he's only pretending to be asleep, you know that much, too. the rise and fall of his chest is hardly there; you can see it, how he's holding his breath being this close to you.

"issei," you whisper.

he opens his eyes, eyelids lifting lazily as he meets your stare. the vibration of his hum reverberates to you.

"it's cold."

for a moment, your stomach drops at the thought that he could ignore you; how it would make perfect sense for him to. you broke up with him after all, and he doesn't owe you anything, much less favors as intimate as this one.

but he closes the already dwindling gap between you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you closer. it's near, far too near for exes to be―noses touching and all.

"warmer?" his voice comes out hoarser through the whisper.

you nod, your head shifting up and down—which, truly, is where you ultimately fuck up. you feel it, a little chapped but still pliant against your lips.

in your carelessness, you accidentally brush your lips against his, the sensation alone surprising you enough to inch your head back as you mutter your apologies.

"sorry? really?" he asks, eyes half-lidded still as he chuckles.

his question settles into the small space you're in.

your vision trails from his eyes, down to the slope of his nose, until it lands on his lips again. a little split like you've always known, but still your favorite. still the only lips you want against yours.

when you lean in again, you know you're fucked, because―

lesson #3: the number one rule is that exes shouldn't kiss each other anymore.

[solcorvidae]

ask game!! ⭐️, 📚 or 🎶 or if there’s another u rly want to do then do that one :D

Hi Robyn!! Thank you for the ask <33

These are... mostly Lambert-centric snippets. Oops! I didn't plan that, but he lives in my brain 24/7 so I suppose it only makes sense that he appears so frequently in my writing.

⭐️ share a snippet where a character is the best at something.

The drive was only two hours in total, including stops. But Geralt was tired of his reading being interrupted by Lambert's loud chatter and his shrieking laughter as he threw the disgusting blanket he dragged everywhere onto Geralt's lap. Lambert thought Geralt's reaction was a riot.

"Lambert," Vesemir warned for what felt like the one-hundredth time that afternoon. "I will stop the car. This is your last warning. Stop bothering your brother." 

Geralt felt queasy as he flicked the dirty blanket off his book and back to Lambert's side of the truck. Lambert was quiet for all of five minutes before he began pestering Eskel instead, kicking the back of the seat. Eskel did not give him the attention he was searching for and simply moved the seat forward without further acknowledgement. It only took Lambert's tiny legs a few more swings to realize he could no longer reach the back of the seat in front of him. "Noo, put it back!"

Lambert's voice felt like nails on a chalkboard to Geralt as he slapped the palms of his hands over his tiny ears to block out the shrill whining of the five-year-old next to him.

(Lambert is the best at being annoying during family outings... especially if it involves more than a 20 minute drive. But hey, he's five here, who can blame him? Also, yes. He is a blanket kid.)

📚 share a snippet where the character is being academic/is in an academic setting/is showing off their knowledge.

If there was one thing Lambert was known for, it was finishing what he started. It didn't matter if it was a personal project, coursework, or an argument; if Lambert started something, he was never known to be the first to back down or leave it unfinished. 

He cursed through his teeth at the eraser-worn page in front of him. They were given the entire four-hour lab period to complete their work; Lambert was determined to take advantage of it even if his classmates rarely did. Balling his fists tightly in his hair, yanking harshly in frustration, Lambert felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. He was the last person in the eerie classroom, short of his TA. 

The clock ticked mockingly in his ears as the remaining ten minutes of class marched on. There was no way Lambert was finishing this lab before he and his TA had to leave. 

He glared at the chalkboard with the results that still, for the seventh time, did not match the numbers on the pH meter in front of him or the aggressive handwriting scrawled on his page. He did not want to have to finish this over the weekend or gods forbid, hand it in as is. No, Lambert was top of his class the last two semesters; he would not let this impact his final. They were only halfway through the semester, he couldn't afford to use up what he liked to call his 'one designated fuck up' before he was off for the reading week. He couldn't afford that hanging over his head, not with his scholarship on the line, not when this lab was worth twenty percent of his final grade. 

(AKA: Top Ten Photos Taken Moments Before Disaster... and by disaster, I mean Lambert having a breakdown in his Organic Chemistry lab.)

🎶 share a happy moment. ANY happy moment. You must have ONE.

Aiden looked down at him with concern plastered on his face. He watched as tears streamed down the sides of Lambert's face, past his ears. He couldn't sense anything amiss, so why was he crying? 

Lambert pulled Aiden back down onto the bed beside him. "It's stupid," he said as they laid on their sides, faces mere inches apart, limbs tangled and intertwined so that neither man knew which foot belonged to whom. Lambert watched Aiden study his body language and found nothing. He was okay. He was more than okay. 

Lambert was happy. 

"I just love you so fucking much, you know?" Lambert choked, brushing a loose strand of hair from Aiden's eyes and tucked it behind his ear. 

Aiden fought a losing battle. "Yeah, I do," he whispered, swallowing his words, afraid that someone might hear and take it all away. 

(Canon Divergence, Alive Aiden fic. Probably going to be the next thing you see on AO3... whenever that may be)

[sockth]

MUTUALS. I DO NOT ASK YOU FOR MUCH, SO PLEASE. PLEASE VOTE FOR CLYDE OH MY GOD HE IS SO SILLY.

if my pleading is not enough to convince you, welcome to my list of reasons

HE GETS REALLY INTO EVERY ROLE HE LIKES.

First of all, his lord of darkness lord. 100% thinks he is working with Taco Bell green sauce instead of goo that turns people into nazi zombies <3. Awesome. What a silly guy. He sets out a whole plan to get revenge on being kicked out of time and space. He's SO dedicated. He makes a stupid fort in his backyard. He recruits so many people. He steals the stick, and makes a VIDEO to reveal his evil plan.

Your honor, if he just wanted to ruin the game, he could have just stolen the stick and kept the war going. No, by getting revenge, he is writing himself BACK into the story, so he can hang out with friends some more. Also fully tries to not have consequences for his actions by saying he isn't playing anymore. Thank you, Clyde. Very cool.

NEXT there's his MOSQUITO ROLE. Oh my god he takes this so seriously. These are both real lines from the game.

Super Craig: "You know you don't really need to drink that shit, right?" Mosquito: "Well, you really need to punch your enemies, Super Craig?" Super Craig: "Uh, yeah." Mosquito: "All right, then. Don't be a hypocrite."

Super Craig: "Next thing you know you'll be laying eggs." Mosquito: "I would if I could!"

What is wrong with him <33. I need him to explode he's so funny. He also tries to get out of paying his check at Raisins even though he 100% needs to by calling the girls his kryptonite. He is so lame. Please vote for him.

2. KINDEST LITTLE BEAST

you have to hear me out here. Ignore the post covid special for a second, or be a Clyde apologist and just believe future Clyde is why past Clyde became an antivaxxer (which btw, is a GREAT scene. Clyde not questioning why there is an older man in his house telling him vaccines will make him grow titties on his head is peak.) Well, either way. I don't really care what your excuse is. YOU CANNOT FORGET ABOUT THE LICE EPISODE. Not only is the entire thing a moral dilemma, but he's also implied to be the ONLY KID who struggled with it. Was he a coward? Yes. I support him for that, though.

Also, the episode has one of my favorite moments in the show which is just. the opening of this. Great recovery, buddy!

On top of that, he wants to make lemon bars to help the Gulf crisis :) the sweetest little guy. Even in the episode which has made Clyde like absolutely slandered by the fandom (The List), he tries to comfort Kyle. Albeit uh. Really badly <3.

Also, he takes the fall for the guy who pooped in the urinal. Once again, awesome job, Clyde, even if you didn't really think it out.

3. LOOK AT HIS LINES IN THE FRACTURED BUT WHOLE AGAIN PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

"On Friday nights I get to stay up an extra hour."

"I'm going to build a pillow fort this weekend."

"My dad lets me play with the big rolling ladder in his store's stock room."

"Can I have a ride in the Tupper-Mech sometime?"

"After my crime-fighting career is over, I'm going to open a car dealership."

There is something so wrong with him in this too considering how much he talks about laying eggs and flirting with girls, but this is a Clyde propoganda so just. Pretend I didn't say that. Unless that helps you vote for him bc it's funny and he's a loser. Then don't.

Oh yeah, for people who are just reading this (thank u mutuals for putting up with this) his mom is dead (which is 100% his fault) and it's awesome. For some reason he made his dead mom part of his superhero lore and was like fuck it yeah i'll roleplay that. Incredible.

Reviving

If only this worked on my mom."

Revived

"I saw my mom, she told me to kick your asses."

4. HIS INTENSE BURSTS OF EMOTIONS.

oh my god. Most of the time he is like :I, but in episodes he'll sometimes just SWITCH IT UP. Some might call this poor writing, but I call it very silly. I am counting the list under this.

Also for some reason these all include Cartman. I don't actually have an explanation for that.

This isn't an emotional one, but while I'm putting clips here I just want to say this is like. my favorite scene ever, and they cut it which is devastating. I hope you know I quote this way more than I probably should.

Also love how his friends immediately jump to his defense. Craig and Jimmy IMMEDIATELY throw hands. That's awesome. The friends of all time.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk that I wrote instead of writing my English essay on Modernism. Please vote for him he is SO silly and sweet and kind of disgusting. He has some of my favorite moments in the series.

Reblog for a bigger sample size.

[ivysangel]

I could be better but I’m definitely trying to look in the bright side of things. I’m in a show and we’re performing again this weekend so im trying to be excited for that, but I’m just getting over being sick, so we’ll see how that goes (I was getting off the stage after every song either coughing up a lung or blowing my brains through my nose so)

Slice of life is the best when it’s them fighting over cookies or worrying about making friends or going on dates or being (found) family and yeah I think bc relationships and dynamics are so important to me, that’s what tickles my fancy the most, just seeing them connect with each other- 💌

Here are my quizzes!

https://uquiz.com/9CYhbj

https://uquiz.com/3lX4IP

https://uquiz.com/eRtam4

https://uquiz.com/jYI8uI

https://uquiz.com/WsTSmq

https://uquiz.com/pxHmBi

https://uquiz.com/Y6YL3c

(I’m so sorry I tried to grab every quiz with something remotely dc related and that ended up being the majority of them, um yeah sorry friend. But enjoy)

i hope you're feeling better now and i hope you show went well. being sick is the worst, i hope you got to rest some!! i agree about slice of life, i am obsessed with relationship dynamics!! both my own and other peoples, real and fictional! it's why i love sitcoms so much!

link 1 (which of my favorite characters are you)

i got "dork diaries malewife" i'm not entirely sure what that means lmao? first thought was brandon from dork diaries tho? also semi related, winston duke is my supposedly stepmoms cousin

link 2 (which of my favorite albums are you)

i got positions by ariana grande!! one of my fave songs of ALL FUCKING TIME is on that album. motive, u will always be famous. doja you may be a fucking freak but oh my god u know how to feature. kinda need a collab album between the two of them bc motive and i don't do drugs are two of my most fave songs ever

link 3 (which of my ocs are you)

i got priscilla looool. i'm not a middle child tho, unfortunately am an eldest daughter with only child syndrome :(( edge of seventeen mentioned!!! i actually have a dark history with that movie meaning me and my best friend watched it one time in middle school and spent the whole time screaming at the screen. every time i think about it i get so viscerally angry like i'm popping veins. am awkward on the inside but *sighs* the most charismatic person ever. and i do have bomb taste in music, that is true. was going through it trying to pick between the lyrics for blame it and complicated but ultimately decided on complicated bc me and avril are locked in for life

link 4 (which of my rebinge shows are you)

i got abbot elementary!!! i was actually just watching it lmao but i switched it to superstore bc that's my #1 rebinge sitcom along with bk99 and modern family. description was so me tho i am funny and i do enjoy stirring the pot

link 5 (choose some stuff and i'll give you a crime against one of my favorite pieces of media)

i got "jacob imprinting on a baby that's three minutes old" i'm crying lmao. gosh, i've never seen the twilight movies but i've watched so many clips on tiktok i might as well log it into letterboxd. twilight will never get money from me!!!! i've got one sided beef with it, not entirely sure why tho

link 6 (answer these questions and i'll give you a song i like)

i got "i can wait forever" by simple plan. i've never listened to it so i'll have to do that soon!

link 7 (which ridiculous thing in titans are you)

i got rachels dad being a villain to the titans twice. i've never watched titans and probably never will because bad wigs make me want to nuke the planet. but is that not pretty on brand for trigon?

these were fun, i enjoyed them a lot so thank you for sharing w me <3

[xutokawa]

aahh the s/o finding scratch marks is fulfilling my angst needs 😭🤚🏽 could u maybe do one with bokuto & suna 🥺 i love your writing so much!! xx

pairings: suna x reader, bokuto x reader

genre(s): fluff to angst, cheating

warnings: langauge, cheating

wc: 2.3k

» masterlist

a/n: thank you for your support! I tried adding more plot to it this time hehe. breaking bokuto’s heart broke mine bro :( hope you like it! also TYSM GUYS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS FDJSKF i love every single one of yu :D <3 mwah mwah mwah

atsumu and oikawa ver.

osamu and iwazumi ver.

kuroo and sakusa ver.

akaashi and hinata ver.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Suna

“Rin, hand me the soy sauce,” you asked, not looking up from the dish you were stir frying.

“Get it yourself,” Suna teased back. Rolling your eyes, you stuck out your hand. Laughing, Suna came up behind you, placing the bottle of soy sauce in your hands before wrapping his arms around your waist. His hands snuck under your shirt, laying on your bare stomach. You leaned back into his chest, sighing contently. The two of you rarely had time together anymore. While you were burying yourself in your work in hopes for a promotion, Suna was busy with practices that extended throughout the whole day. Both of you were exhausted by the time you came home to your apartment together, unable to muster the energy to do anything except fall asleep in each other’s arms.

“Mmm, you smell good,” Suna said, taking a deep breath into your neck.

“I think that’s the fried rice you’re smelling,” you joked back. Butterflies stormed your stomach as Suna’s hands gently massaged your sides. Even after living with the middle blocker for three years, he never failed to make you feel like a crushing high school student. Suddenly, Suna’s gentle hands grew antsy, teasingly tickling your sides. Jumping, you tell him, “Rin, stop! I’m going to spill something!”

“I think I’ll keep going,” Suna teased back, his hands continuing to tickle you. With one poke to your side, your entire body jerked, causing the soy sauce in your hand to fling into the air, and onto Suna’s shirt.

“Y/n! I really liked this shirt!” Suna whined. 

“That’s your fault, baby. I told you to stop,” you shrugged, laughing at his expression.

“Whatever, I’m going to go change,” Suna pouted, turning away.

As you finished cooking, you went into your shared bedroom to tell Suna dinner was ready. You were stopped in your tracks, however, when you saw his changing form. Back to you, long scratch marks ran down the length of his back. Scratches that were not put there by you. 

“R-rin, what is this?” You asked, voice beginning to waver.

Suna spun around, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Y/n! Why didn’t you knock?” Suna nervously asked, rushing to push his t-shirt over his head, “It’s nothing, babe, just uh, got in a fight!”

“Are you sure it was a fight? Or was it a late night in someone else's bed?” You asked accusingly, brows furrowing. Would your Suna cheat on you? You had felt pretty secure about your relationship before now, never having a reason to doubt your trust in your boyfriend. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to make excuses for the lines raked down his back. 

Pain and guilt flashed across Suna’s eyes, and that’s when you knew. You were wrong to believe you gave him everything he needed in a relationship.

“Look, y/n, we can figure this out, just let me-” Suna began.

“Please, stop,” you choked out, eyes welling up with tears. The middle blocker felt his heart shatter watching you back away from him as if he were a plague. 

“No, you don’t understand! I can’t lose you like this,” Suna said, walking towards you, wanting nothing more than to pull you in his arms and wipe your tears away. He stopped in his tracks, however, when you flinched away from his touch, hatred flickering in your eyes. At that moment, Suna felt like the scum of the earth.

“Please, get away from me. Get out of this room, get out of this apartment! I don’t need your excuses,” You said, voice raising. When you finally looked up to meet Suna’s eyes, you found nothing but despair and regret. 

“No! I won’t leave you, y/n! You don’t understand how much I need-” Suna started.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Rintarou,” you scoffed. The pain in Suna’s chest grew at the use of his full name.

“I-it’s Rin. You always call me Rin. Please, call me Rin,” Suna pleaded, voice beginning to shake, “Stop distancing yourself from me. I’m your Rin. Please, don’t leave. I’m so sorry, let me make it up to you!”

“You’re a pathetic piece of shit, Rintarou! Cheating on me and then begging for me to stay and forgive you? Tell me, what was your plan? Did you just want a quick fuck one night? Or did you plan to keep cheating on me for the rest of our relationship?” You angrily walked towards him. Suna watched as the love you once held in your eyes for him turned into agony. He felt himself crumple knowing he was the sole cause of your anger and hurt.

“No! It was a mistake! Please, let me make it up to you,” Suna reached for your hands, desperate to have you with him.

“The only mistake that was made here was me trusting you,” You said, spinning around as you headed for the door. Suna physically flinched at your words, hurt and shame flooding his body. Panic filled his mind at the sound of your keys jingling and the sound of you putting on your shoes.

“Wait! Y/n, where are you going? Please don’t leave, it’s not safe for you to go out right now. Just stay and let us talk about it,” Suna pleaded, walking up behind you.

“I’d rather be anywhere but here with you right now,” you coldly replied, reaching out for the door handle. Suna rushed to stop you from turning the knob.

“Please, y/n, I can’t handle you leaving me,” Suna whispered.

“Just leave it, Suna. No amount of begging or love can fix my trust for you,” you replied, back towards his sobbing figure. Suna finally fell to his knees in defeat as you walked out of the apartment, knowing he lost you forever.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Bokuto

“Ugh, I’m so ready to just relax,” you sighed out, dramatically splaying your arms across the center console in your fiancé’s car. A tingle ran up your spine at the sound of Bokuto chuckling from beside you, not taking his eyes off the road. You could never get used to his laugh, no matter how many times you’ve heard it.

“I know, baby. You deserve it,” Bokuto replied, taking one hand off the steering wheel to place on your thigh, giving a light squeeze. The two of you had been insanely busy the month leading up to this trip. From your boss’ unrelenting demands at work to your family’s constant nagging and opinions on your wedding decorations, the two of you just needed to catch a break. So, when Bokuto brought up the idea of a weekend beach trip, you immediately agreed, jumping up and down in excitement.

The beaming sun immediately warmed your skin as you stepped out of the car. Warmth spread through your body as you glanced back at Bokuto as he started pulling out your stuff from the trunk, looking up to flash you his smile you had fallen in love with ages ago. 

“You go on ahead and find a spot for us, I’ll follow in a second,” Bokuto called out to you. Giving a thumbs up, you started towards the gleaming ocean, excitement filling your body as you felt the sand beneath your feet. Finally, choosing a spot, you unfolded your beach chair, spreading your towel across the top. A smile settled on your face as you laid down, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the harsh rays. Your eyes drifted closed, the sounds of waves crashing and children giggling putting you in a serene state.

Bokuto chuckled at your appearance before setting up his own beach chair next to you, situating a beach umbrella between the two chairs. He felt his heart speed up as he gazed at your relaxing figure, wanting nothing more than to cover your face in kisses. The spiker felt so much love for you, so he felt nothing but confusion as to how he woke up in another person’s bed two nights ago, naked. His adoration for you was replaced with guilt. Bokuto still hadn’t figured out how to approach the situation, how to tell you without you breaking off the engagement. He wanted nothing more than to watch you walk down the aisle in a few months, than to have children running around the two of you as you prepared dinner, than to grow old with you by his side. Bokuto was still unsure of what happened that night to cause him to slip out of a random person’s apartment in his clothes from the previous night.

The spiker was shook from his thoughts at the sound of your voice. 

“Are you going into the water?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I think I will just to cool off,” Bokuto replied, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Okay, I’ll join you in a bit, I just want to lay for a little longer,” you replied to him, closing your eyes again.

“Okay, baby. Take your time,” Bokuto said, placing a kiss on your forehead before starting towards the water. You giggled as you watched your fiancé run towards the ocean. Your laughter quickly died, however, once you saw his back.

Your eyes widen with a mixture of shock and confusion, racking your brain for an explanation for the long, red strips that lined your fiance's back, but, no matter how hard you thought, nothing came up. The past month had been too hectic for the two of you to ever get close to intimate. Tears began pricking your eyes as the realization that Bokuto had cheated on you settled in your mind. 

Does he know he has scratch marks on his back? Is this his subtle way of telling me he wants to end this? That I wasn’t enough for him?

As soon as Bokuto hit the ocean, the salty water stung his back. His initial confusion as to where the pain came from was quickly replaced with realization. He shot up at the water, turning to watch you get up from your seat. 

Maybe they didn’t see, he hoped. His hopes, however, were quickly crushed as his heart dropped to his feet. You began to gather your things, rummaging through Bokuto’s belongings until you found the keys to his car.

Panicking, Bokuto ran out of the ocean as fast as he could, cursing at the water for resisting his movements. He watched helplessly as you began walking back towards the parking lot. You saw. You saw the scratch marks, and now you were leaving Bokuto. The spiker’s worst nightmares were turning into a reality right in front of his eyes.

The dull shouting of your name from down the beach sounded in your ears. You ignored Bokuto’s incessant calls for you, the ache in your heart overpowering every emotion you were feeling. 

Bokuto ran through the sand as fast as he could, hoping to catch up to you before you left his life forever. His lungs and legs were screaming, but the pain was nothing compared to the pain of you leaving. Panic rose in his eyes as he watched you get into the driver's seat, starting the engine to his car. 

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you took a shaky breath, a weak attempt to try and calm your heart. You looked down at your engagement ring, memories of that night flashing through your mind, forcing another sob to rack your body knowing that your memories now meant nothing. Banging on the car window startled you as you looked up to find a panicked Bokuto. His frantic words were muffled as you watched him desperately attempt to stop you from leaving. 

“Please, y/n, roll down the window. Let me explain, please,” Bokuto blabbered, “Y/n, please don’t leave me, you have to let me explain. I love you! I want to marry you, and you only!”

Anger surged through your body as you scoffed at his words. Rage blinded your thoughts at the mention of your impending marriage. How dare he tell you he wants to get married after cheating on you? Your brain didn’t have time to process your movements as you pulled your ring off your left hand. You watched as a glimmer of hope flickered in Bokuto’s eyes as you began to roll down the window, only to have his eyes widen in pain and shock as you handed him your engagement ring.

“You’re really a piece of shit, Bokuto. You know that?” Tears began welling up in the spiker’s eyes as he stared at the piece of metal that laid in his hands. 

“No, y/n, please. Give me your hand, please,” Bokuto frantically pleaded, reaching for your hand. The ring in his hand belonged nowhere else except your ring finger. 

“Just stop, Bokuto, you’ve already ruined everything,” you scoffed out. As his eyes met yours, he was met with a whirlwind of hurt, shame, and pity. That’s when he realized. To you, he was pathetic. The love and adoration that made your eyes shine brighter than the sun was now replaced with hatred and pain, making them burn greater than the depths of hell.

Bokuto’s heart shattered into pieces knowing you would never love him the same, knowing he broke your trust. 

“I-,” Bokuto paused, unsure of what else he could say to get you back.

“I’m sorry, y/n” the man in front of you choked out. Bokuto felt helpless as he watched you roll up your window and drive away from him, leaving him in shattered pieces.

That night, when Bokuto finally returned to his shared apartment, the reality of the situation hit him. The empty aura filling the space that he used to share with you was all it took for Bokuto to fall onto his knees, becoming a shell of his former self. You were gone.

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[soulwillower]

semi-charming •  bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested:  Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :)    +      AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH     +     don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh  !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au, 

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional. 

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that. 

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake. 

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise. 

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door. 

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes. 

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either. 

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music." 

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off." 

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. 

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding. 

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give. 

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in." 

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it. 

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him. 

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?" 

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms. 

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?" 

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person. 

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst. 

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg. 

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall. 

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!" 

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him. 

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either. 

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts. 

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet. 

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack." 

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf. 

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot. 

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you. 

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip. 

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane.  "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly. 

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth. 

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away. 

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid. 

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh. 

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from. 

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done." 

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated." 

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly. 

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are,  i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk. 

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out. 

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you. 

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you. 

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own.  "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving? 

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants. 

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes. 

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down. 

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate. 

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once. 

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure. 

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?" 

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to." 

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock. 

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back. 

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly. 

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan. 

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums. 

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out. 

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce. 

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building. 

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours. 

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

 "you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to. 

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already. 

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple. 

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours. 

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close. 

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters. 

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall. 

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous. 

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease. 

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

Ok but can u also do this but with ron + the twins, I love ur smuts !!!!!!!

pairing: reader x ron weasley x fred weasley x george weasley 

warning(s): 18+, unprotected sex, foursome, double penetration, oral (female and male receiving), face fucking, fingering

word count: 4.2k 

a/n: soooo this is the longest thing i’ve ever written on this account but if anyone deserves it its the damn weasleys. i tried to make this as non sweet home alabama as possible and that’s probably why it’s so long. anyways, enjoy this ungodly amount of smut while i decompress. 

You had been spending a majority of your summer at The Burrow, where you boyfriend Ron lived. You spent day in and day out with him, practically on top of one another whenever you could be, but that didn’t stop you from spending time with his family. His mother was incredible, albeit a little scary at times, his father was charming, and Ginny was becoming a fast friend. But you couldn’t help the particular draw you felt towards the twins, Fred and George. 

You couldn't deny they were attractive, the genes were strong in the Weasley family. And you often did a poor job at hiding your attraction. 

You didn’t think any of them had noticed your subtle glances or blushes. Little did you know, all three of them had noticed over the few weeks you had been there. They were just waiting you out. 

~~~

Tonight you were all cozied around the fire pit, drinking some firewhiskey, taking advantage of the fact that Molly and Arthur had gone to visit Ron’s oldest brother Bill and his wife, Fluer, for the weekend. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were certainly feeling good. 

You were cuddled up to Ron’s side, his arm slung around your shoulders, a knitted blanket draped over your laps. You were so wrapped up in your boyfriend that you had barely noticed that Fred had taken the spot on your other side until his leg brushed against yours, making you still. 

“Do you need another drink, sweetheart?” Fred asked when you finally looked his way, his face far too close to yours in the situation to be normal. 

You blushed at his proximity, but nodded. “Um, yes, thank you,” you added bashfully. 

Fred dashed a charming smile at you and placed a soft kiss to your cheek before dashing off to get you another glass of whiskey, your blush only intensifying when you felt his lips on your skin. You prayed no one could see it through the light of the fire. 

Ron tugged you back into his side and dropped his lips to your ear. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop,” he said lowly, clearly not pleased by the situation. 

“He kissed me,” you argued softly, your head turning to press a kiss against his neck. He pulled back and shot a look down at you, his brow raised. A look you couldn’t exactly argue with. You got caught and you knew it. 

You stayed quiet, trying to keep your eyes anywhere except the two men that currently had your stomach in knots. But that effort was broken when Fred made his way back over to you, plopping down beside you. He passed you your new drink and you thanked him for it, sitting up straight to take a sip. 

You were caught off guard when you were pulled into his body and away from Ron, Fred’s strong arm now wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Have you been enjoying your summer here so far?” He asked quietly, making sure only you could hear him. 

Your eyes flitted cautiously over the group around the fire, making sure no one was noticing the strange behavior. You paused when you met George’s eyes, his own trained on the interaction between you and Fred, but you tried your best to ignore it. 

“Um, yes. You’ve all been quite lovely. I like it here,” you told him genuinely. You had been enjoying your summer despite tonights most recent turn of events. 

“Mm, good,” Fred mused, shooting another smile down at you. You couldn’t help but notice the little mischievous glint in his eyes that he got every time he was thinking something that was likely to either end brilliantly or disastourly. “I saw we play a little game. Are you in?” He asked. 

You swallowed nervously, knowing this could end very poorly. “And what is this game?” You questioned. 

“Let’s see how jealous we can get Ron,” he whispered, the smile never leaving his face. 

“I- I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you argued, knowing fully well Ron had already told you to stop… doing whatever you were doing. 

“Oh, c’mon Y/N. Live a little. Anyhow, you already know how this is going to end,” he told you. 

“And how will this end?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him. 

He moved closer to you, so close you could feel his breath on your face. Your whole body was hot and the blush was creeping back onto your face and you knew he could see it. 

“Judging by the noises I hear coming from his room almost every night, he’ll fuck you stupid. And I get to hear those pretty noises again,” he told you shamelessly, pulling you into him closer. 

You shot a nervous glance at Ron, only to find that he was already looking at you over the rim of his own cup, fire in his eyes. He raised a brow at you and you could see the way the corners of his lips were tugging up into a smirk, practically daring you to continue on. As if he knew exactly what you and Fred were talking about. 

“By the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to mind,” Fred added from behind you, making you whip your head around back to him. 

“Of course he’d mind. You’re his brother,” you argued incredulously, still not believing this conversation was even truly happening. 

“You think he doesn’t see the way you look at me and Georgie? You look at us like you want us to devour you,” he told you. 

You snuck a glance at George only to find that he was still looking at you. You could feel Ron’s eyes still on the back of your head. You gulped nervously, your brain short circuiting for a half a second. Did they… did they plan this? 

“I - I haven’t been -,” you went to argue, but Fred cut you off. 

“Don’t play coy with me. Maybe if you beg him nicely like I hear you do so well, he might let us join you tonight,” Fred teased, causing your core to pulse and drip with arousal at the thought. 

You could only stare back at him, his breath fanning your face as you took in his words. He knew he planted a seed in you that wouldn’t go away until it was satisfied. The smug look on his face only proved it. You didn’t get the chance to reply before you could hear Ron getting up from his place on the bench. 

“Bunny, come with me,” he said innocently enough to the ears of everyone else in the group, but you could hear the edge in his voice. 

You detangled yourself from Fred and rose up from your spot, taking Ron’s hand as he silently led you back into the house. Once you had passed through the threshold into the kitchen and away from the eyes of everyone else, he spun around to face you. 

“And what was all that about?” He asked, stepping right into your space so you had no other choice but to look up at him. 

“N-nothing. We were just having a chat,” you stuttered out, trying to not seem intimidated. 

“Wasn’t what it looked like to me. Spill it,” he said roughly, continuing to back you up until your back hit the counter, leaving you nowhere to go when his hands were placed on either side of your body. 

“Promise you won’t get mad,” you half heartedly requested. 

“Just tell me.” 

“He- he said, um, he said that we should try to make you jealous,” you told him. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was only a half truth at best. 

“That’s not what has you blushing like a virgin though, is it? What did he say to you?” He pressed, the fire in his eyes growing larger by the second. 

You swallowed and took a deep breath before you even opened your mouth, knowing this could only go one of two ways. He’d either blow up entirely, or you’d have a night you’d never forget. “He said that if I begged you you’d let him and George join us,” you said quickly, all in one breath. 

You shut your eyes, waiting for his response. But when a chuckle fell from his lips your eyes shot back open in shock. 

“Is that what you want, bunny? Do you want them to join us?” He asked, his eyes now more playful than they had been just seconds prior. 

“Are you serious?” You asked after a moment, you head spinning that he was just offering this to you on a silver platter. You expected yelling, anger, the whole fit. You didn’t expect a cheeky smirk and twinkling eyes. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”  

“They’re your brothers,” you argued. Why you were even arguing this, you weren’t sure. You wanted this and he knew it and they knew it. You just couldn’t understand why he was letting it happen. 

“It’s not like I’ll be fucking them,” he said with a laugh. “So, tell me what you want.” 

“If it’s okay with you…,” you started, trailing off. You looked up at him nervously, hoping your eyes conveyed enough of a plea that he would continue agreeing with you. 

“So beg,” he said, his voice dropping low as he continued to stare down at you. 

“I’ll be good, I promise. Just this once. I just - I - please,” you said, launching right into it but quickly running out of words as you watched the smirk grow on his face. 

“Go to my room. Strip. I’ll be up in a minute,” he told you, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading back outside. You watched his figure walk away for a moment, letting your mind race until you booked it up the stairs not wanting to wait any longer for the night to truly begin. 

~~~

You were waiting in your position on the bed for what felt like hours, but you knew it had only been a few minutes before you heard multiple sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. You moved to cover your chest when you heard the doorknob turn, unsure if you should be exposed or not right away. 

Ron came in first but left the door open just enough so your guests could hear. “Last chance, bun. Do you want this?” He asked, slowly coming over to rest his hands on the bed, leaning over slightly so his tall form was eye level with you. 

You knew it wasn’t your last chance to say no, but it was your last chance before the twins waltzed in. 

You took a shaky breath and nodded your head, saying “Yes,” loud enough so Fred and George could hear. 

The door was opening once more, the twins walking through, both pairs of eyes immediately on you. When the door shut, you stared up at them, unsure what to do or say, but their matching smirk told you they already had plans. 

Ron walked around the bed until he crawled on to it behind you, his legs bracketing your hips as you knelt between his spread thighs. 

“Let them see you,” he coaxed gently, hands coming around you to grip your forearms. 

He only put a light pressure on your skin, letting you move on your own as you exposed your chest to them. They took you in with hungry eyes but they didn’t move from where they both stood before you, waiting. 

“All of you,” Ron spoke again, his hands trailing down to your thighs, gently prying them apart. 

You leaned back and hid your face in his neck as he repositioned you, unable to look the two men in the eyes as your entire body got exposed to them. You knew you were a dripping mess over the situation and the embarrassment of it being so obvious made you squirm. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re more perfect than I imaged,” you heard George say, the bed dipping down infront of you. 

Your eyes snapped to him, watching him as he looked down at your glistening sex. His eyes were hungry when they met yours, desperate. Probably the exact mirror of your own. 

“Can I touch you?” George asked, his fingers twitching against the sheets, waiting. 

“Please,” you begged, wanting nothing more than for one of them to do anything right now. 

George wasted no time in bringing his fingers directly to your cunt, trailing one long finger through your slit while his thumb trailed soft circles onto your clit. You couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from your lips when he pushed his finger in, immediately searching for you g-spot. 

As if your noises were a cue for Fred, the bed dipped on your other side and without a word, he was kissing down your chest. Soon enough, he was attacking your nipples when George was working your from the inside out. Your back was arching and your hips were moving at their own volition, unable to stop yourself under their ministrations.

“Does that feel good?” George asked you softly, placing kisses on your shoulder. 

When you only nodded, Ron grabbed your chin and forced you to look directly at George. “I won’t remind you again, bunny. Use yours words,” he said sweetly, but you knew there was danger laced in his words. You knew better than anyone else what he could do to you if he reminded you one more time. 

“Yes. Feels so good. Please don’t stop,” you told George, already breathless from the three men surrounding you. 

You felt Fred chuckle against your skin and you knew the smirk George was wearing was only mimicked by Ron’s behind you. They knew exactly what they were doing to you. 

You couldn’t stop the whine that left you when George removed his hand, but your eyes lit up when you saw him go to kneel at the edge of the bed. He pulled up his to the edge, draped your legs over his shoulder, and started trailing kitten licks all along your slit until his tongue was swirling around your clit. 

You held fell back against Ron’s shoulder, a moan falling from your lips as Fred moved to your other side to attack your opposite nipple. 

“Having fun?” Ron asked, beaming down at you. 

You nodded breathlessly, your eyes rolling back in your head with a flushed smile on your face. “Want you too,” you told him. 

“Of course you do, my greedy girl,” Ron mused, his finger coming to tilt your lips back and locking your lips in a kiss. 

Your body was overwhelmed with just their lips. You weren’t sure how you would handle it when their pants came off. 

Your hips were grinding down onto George’s face without you sparing it a second thought and you kept pushing your chest into Fred’s lips, your entire body grinding back on Ron’s body. 

“She tastes like fucking heaven,” George said, finally coming up for a breath. His entire chin was soaked in his own saliva and your juices and his eyes were blown with lust. 

Ron made a noise of agreement that was swallowed up by your lips, but you were ripped away from your boyfriend by George’s grip on your neck. He pulled you into a kiss with him, tasting yourself on his tongue, as Fred trailed kisses down your body until he was getting a taste of you for himself. 

Fred quickly brought you your orgasm, his tongue so deep inside of you that your toes were curling. Your hands had a monster grip on Ron’s thighs and every noise you made got swallowed by George, his lips hot on yours. 

You finally relaxed your body against Ron’s, his chest being the perfect place to settle against, as your body calmed down. 

“Think you can handle all three of us?” Fred asked cheekily, looking up at you from his place on the floor. 

You gave a shaky nod, but in your head you were unsure how this would even work. You never thought you’t get this far to even have considered it. 

That line of thought was abruptly cut off when Ron grabbed your hair and yanked back so you were looking up at him again. “What did I say about using your words?” He asked darkly.

“Yes, I want to. I can,” you got out breathlessly, still basking in the sting of your scalp. 

“Good,” Ron said, now satiated with your words. “Get on your hands and knees for us, bunny.” 

He gave you one last searing kiss before releasing you, letting you adjust your own shaky limbs on the bed until you were in the position he instructed you to be in. As you did that, the boys began stripping themselves of their clothes, Fred and George both strategically in your line of sight depending on which way you turned your head. 

You watched as they both ripped their shirts over their heads, a sight you were accustomed to thanks to many sweaty afternoons in the yard playing Quidditch. But you didn’t know where to look as they peeled down their jeans and briefs, relieving both of their impressive lengths. They were both around the same length, but Ron was thicker than both of them. No matter what, you knew you’d be sore in the morning. 

“This is how it’s gonna work, bunny,” Ron said, finally rounding the bed so he could see you. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt,” he told you, adding emphasis of his possession when he bent over and easily hooked two fingers inside of you, pressing directly on your g-spot. You jumped at the abrupt action, but you never broke your eye contact with him.

“Fred’s going to fuck that tight ass,” he continued, and you watched as Fred rounded the bed until he was behind you. 

“And George is gonna fuck that cute face,” Ron finished, George coming up on the other side of you to grip your face to force you to look at him. 

“Does that sound good, sweetheart?” George asked, looking down at you fondly. 

“Yes, fuck. Please,” you said, your hips beginning to move against nothing now that Ron had removed his fingers, searching for any ounce of friction you can get. 

They moved in almost perfect sync. Ron maneuvered his way underneath you swiftly, George pulled your head off to the side so your mouth was lined up with the tip of his cock, and you could feel Fred’s lube covered fingers breach the entrance of your tightest hole all at once. You were overwhelmed in the best way, unsure what to do with yourself but totally just along for whatever ride they were about to bring you on. 

When Ron fucked up into you roughly, George immediately pushed your head down to feel the full effects of your moan of his cock, causing a shiver to run through his body. They were practically fucking your mouth and core in tandem, one pulling out while the other brutally thrust in. 

You felt as if you were splitting open for them already, but when Fred’s cock finally lined up with your entrance and began pushing in, you practically saw stars. 

George let you pull away from him for a moment so you could breath through the new pressure inside of you, your head now buried in Ron’s neck as you panted and moaned. Ron had slowed down his thrusts to match with Fred, balancing you on the precipice of pain and pleasure. 

“You’re doing so fucking good for us, Y/N. Just give it a minute and it’ll feel so good. You’re gonna be so pretty when you cum for us,” Ron mused quietly in your ear, knowing that you’d latch on to his voice to get you through the intensity. 

Finally, your hips starting moving against theirs, a silent signal you were ready for them to fuck you, all three of them truly went wild with you body. 

George dragged your face back over to him, letting you do your own thing but keeping a steady hand in your hair in case you tried to pull away. Ron and Fred were fucking into you in perfect sync, pulling out and fucking into you at the same time. 

It was so intense you were shaking, only being held up by three strong pairs of hands at this point. But you couldn’t hide how good it was making you feel. Even as deep as George’s cock was down your throat, it was barely muffling the screams of pleasure you were giving them. You just hoped someone remembered to cast a silencing charm. 

You could hear them talking around you, a mix of praises directed at you and words shared between themselves. “Fuck, you feel so good” and “Just like that” mixed with “She feels like fucking heaven” and “Her mouth is a dream”. You could barely hear them over the blood pumping through you, but you knew you’d remember it later with a blush and a smile. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Swallow it all for me,” George told you, bruising your hair out of your sweaty face. You felt the unmistakable twitch of his cock just before he spilled his cum inside of your mouth and fucked it down your throat, giving you no choice but to follow his request. He came with one of the prettiest noises you had ever heard, and you knew you’d want to hear it again someday if you were lucky enough. 

You pulled away from George panting, finally able to have a minute to catch your breath as Fred and Ron continued to pound furiously into you, your body jolting with every deliberate thrust. 

“Ron, please I’m so close,” you begged, for what you weren’t entirely sure, but you knew he’d know what to do. All you could focus on was how close you were, how tightly you were gripping both of your cocks, and trying your best to balance on shaky arms so you didn’t collapse. 

Without missing a beat, Ron turned his head to George. “Touch her clit,” he told him, finally sounding breathless from all the work he was putting in. 

Fred’s arms came around you to pull you up until your back was against his chest, giving George full access to your most sensitive spot. 

“Cum for us. Show us how much you loved this and cum for us,” Fred said low in your ear. 

Your eyes never left Ron’s as all three of them worked you closer and closer to the edge. As much as the twins were turning you on, this orgasm was for you boyfriend. Everyone you had was. He was the one that let this happen. Let them take you like this. And he was the one currently fucking your g-spot with every thrust it made your head spin. 

“Cum for me” was all Ron had to say, seeing and feeling just how close you were, for you to explode. 

Your vision went white and your whole body shook, the only thing keeping you grounded was Fred’s warm chest pressed against you. You knew the scream you were hearing was your own, but you couldn’t keep it quiet no matter how hard you tried. You pulsed around their cocks, milking them of their own orgasms as you were going through yours. You felt their cum fill you completely, another moan leaving your mouth at how erotic it felt. 

When you finally felt as though you had come back down to real life, you were settled against Ron’s chest, his cock still in you, while the twins were busying themselves with getting dressed. They were talking quietly while Ron ran his hand up and down along your back, just waiting until you were finally back in the present. 

George was the first one to notice your eyes had opened again when he finally got his pants back on. He walked over to the bed and knelt down so he was almost eye level with you. 

“That was wonderful, darling. You were perfect,” he told you, placing a quick kiss to your forehead before righting himself only for Fred to take his place. 

“What he said,” Fred told you with a smirk and mimicking his twin's kiss to your forehead. “We’ll see you two lovebirds in the morning,” he added with a wink. 

They both made their way out of the room, the door clicking behind them, leaving you and Ron in a blissed out silence. 

“Did you have fun?” He finally asked, tilting his neck so he was looking down at you. 

“I did. Thank you,” you said with a soft smile. 

“My girl always gets what she wants. You just have to ask, bunny,” He said, placing a kiss on your nose. 

When you moved your lips up to move against his, he stopped you with a chuckle. “No offense but my brother did just cum in your mouth. So let’s go get you cleaned up so I can kiss you properly, yeah?” He asked, wrapping a blanket around you so he could get you down the hallway and into the bathroom. 

“I thought you weren’t going to be weird about it,” you grumbled under your breath as he adjusted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. 

“That’s different and you know it,” he said defensively as he made his way for the door, making you giggle.

[raggaraddy]

Sugar Daddy turned sour

Request: Hi!!!! read all of ur works its all amazing cant believe ur new.. can i request for a yan sugar daddy taehyung x reader x yan sugar daddy jungkook. they found out that that y/n have 2 sugar daddies and they lost their sanity(as if they even have that)...Thank u and YOU GOOD,KEEP GOING💜💞💞💞💞😘😁

A/N: I don't know how to post a reply to a personal message yet because I am new and Tumblr deficient 😅 But I hope you like the scenario ^-^ thanks for the request 💜

Here for Part 2

Summary: Juggling two guys and getting everything you want from them has always been easy for you, and Taehyung and Jungkook are no exception. Or so you thought.

Trigger warnings: Mentions of non-con, assault, cheating, violence.

Yandere! Taehyung

Yandere! Jungkook

Sunday.  Taehyungs day.  

You open your webcam, checking your eyeliner quickly in the startup view as you wait for the Tae to pick up on the other side. He pops up quickly a beaming smile filling his face.  

“Y/n! Baby, I’ve missed you.” He’s radiant. As happy and as bubbly he always is. 

You go along listening to him excitedly run through his past few days, telling you everything in excruciating detail as he jumps from one half-finished thought to another. He may be an adult but he certainly has a young soul. The whole while you feign attention, your fingers continually fidgeting with the diamond necklace or the matching bracelet he had sent you a few weeks back.

“How was your weekend?”  He finally gets around to asking. 

“Not so good. I always have to work so much," You complain, batting your eyes at the camera.  

“You could always quit and come live with me.” He jokes-but not really. It’s a topic he has raised 3 times already.  And you have the same answer ready as always. 

“Daddy, you know I’m a strong and independent woman. I could never let someone else pay for me.” You pout, running your tongue over your lower lip while pushing your chest up a little to draw attention.  “It’s just my rent is so expensive. I feel like I work just to pay the bills.” 

In truth, your rent is already being covered by someone else.  But he doesn’t need to know that. 

While you continue to run through the fabricated details of your weekend, Taehyung is distracted, looking down at his phone.  You know what's happening. It’s like a game. And you’re winning. Your banking app sends a notification, letting you know that K. Taehyung has just sent you a payment. 

You open it up. Yep. That's rent for the month.  Or more, money for that new TV you wanted.  

“Oh! Daddy, noo.” You whine down the camera. “You can’t.  I am okay. Really. Please don’t spend your money on me.” You frown if only to stop the smile that is fighting to fill your face. 

“I want to baby. I have the money, and I just want you to be happy. Don’t stress about bills okay. I’m here.” 

Sometimes, it’s almost too easy.  

“Okay Daddy, if you insist.”

Tuesday.  Jungkooks day.  

With Jungkook it’s a much more straightforward transaction.  He has said he wants to pay for you and he hates the back and forth pretences.  He just wants you to say thank you, smile pretty, and give him all your attention.  

“Do you need anything more for the week?” He asks through the camera.

“No Daddy, you take such good care of me. Thank you.” You smile. 

“You still have the weekend of the 14th off?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.  Off-screen you quickly scan through your calendar.  

14th, 15th and 16th: Jk weekend.  

Hmm, that came up quicker than you expected. You try to keep your booty calls with them as far apart as possible. 

“Of course, I’m so excited! I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You say, it been less than 100% truthful.

“Months.” He corrects with a surreptitious undertone.  

“Where are we staying this time?” 

You always insist to stay in hotels. Because ‘your apartment feels too busy and mundane, and you want the time you spend with him to be magical and undistracted’. Honestly, you just don’t want him, either of them, in your personal space. You purposefully chose boys who live a few hours away.  It’s hard enough to keep them separated in your everyday life with them being far away. It could only get messy for them to know where you live and how to reach you in person.

You’ve certainly gotten smart at this. Arranging the two men into different days of the week, scheduling them into your calendar to keep them apart and unaware of the other. Both had specifically said very early on that they do not want to share you with anyone else.  And that you were all theirs. And while both of them seemed to trust you, you knew their reactions would be unpleasant, to say the least, if they found out about the other. 

Sugar Daddies can be so possessive. 

But while both these men are very handsome, money is better and more reliable than boys. And if they are stupid enough to spend it all on you, why should you care.

The week passes quickly and it’s the 14th.  Once more you find yourself in the lobby of a 5-star hotel. Jungkook arrived in town early and sent you a message with the room number. 

Time to actually work for your money. 

You knock on the door only to find it slightly open.  Entering there is a trail of rose petals lining the floor leading into the suite. All the lights are dimmed with a warmth of candlelight filling the room. This is so typically Jungkook. Pulling out all the stops to try to impress. 

Dropping your bag at the entrance, you close the door behind you and explore inwards.  

“Daddy?” You call out in a singsong voice. Your heels clack on the tiled floor as you round the corner into the living room. Jungkook is sitting on the lounge, one leg crossed over the other, arms rested up over the back. You smile at seeing him. You always seem to forget just how stunning he is in person. 

“Which one of us are you referring to?” A deep voice startles you from behind. You jolt, spinning to see Taehyung standing behind you leaning against the wall.  

Holy fuck. 

Your mind starts to jumble through what is happening. Thinking about what it was that might have given you away. Evaluating how much they may know. And planning your next move.  

Damn it.  You doubt you’ll be able to smooth talk your way out of this with Jungkook. He’s too direct and absolute. So you’ll just have to accept that that relationship is over. However, you might be able to salvage this situation with Taehyung if you play your cards right. Being defensive should do the trick.

“What is this?” You snap, keeping focused on Taehyung. “This is such a violation of my privacy! You keep smothering me Taehyung! See this is why I tried to find someone else to hang out with.” You stomp your foot. He would always wrap around your finger so quickly with the little girl act. 

“Ha!” He blurts out a short laugh in contradiction to how you expected him to react. “Wow. No, go on. I want to see where this is going.” 

“Do you think we only just found out about each other?” Jungkook pipes up, coming from the couch. 

You sigh. You had almost saved enough for a holiday to the Maldives too. But they seem to know too much. Fine. You can burn both relationships. They were starting to get too clingy anyway.  “Whatever.” You roll your eyes. You got all you could from them. Time to move on to the next.

As you shrug them off, Taehyung steps into the path of the front door. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Both he and Jungkook start to close in tighter. There is a cold tone to his words. Something far too close to a threat for your comfort. Even in heels, both men naturally stand taller than you which usually wouldn’t bother you. But with an unsteadiness to your footing and a very short dress on, in a dark room with two men you have used and spurned, you are feeling even more vulnerable than you feel you should. 

“Move.” You order. 

A smirk on his lips, Taehyung lifts his hand up and backhands you, knocking you back a few stumbled steps. You gasp, your hand clinging to your cheek, eyes wide in shock. He starts forward, Jungkook intervening, standing between the two of you. 

You can not believe he just hit you! He has never done anything like that before.

“No, don’t do that.” He stops Taehyung as he starts to swing again.  Shaking all over, you’re relieved that one of them is seeing sense.  You take the outstretched hand of Jungkook, lip trembling from the burn on your cheek. He draws you closer and you wrap into him for protection. In the same motion, his free hand swings down punching you in the stomach, doubling you over, dropping you to the floor. “If you hit her head, she might get spaced out. I want her to feel this.”

His words send a chill down your spine. This can not be happening.

“Are you crazy!” You gape, trying to speak while gulping down air. Your head is dizzy, your lungs burning.  Kicking off your heels for better movement, you climb back up to your feet not wanting to engage either man. Eyes focused you look past Taehyung to the door, storming forward. “I’m leaving. We’ll forget all of this, okay.” You bargain through short, panicked breath. 

Taehyungs large hand slams you into the wall, pressing his palm against your shoulder. He follows Jungkooks lead, pounding his fist into your gut. And then again. And again.  His hold removes letting you free and you plummet to the ground, crying within broken huffs while cradling your battered torso. 

“You’re right. That is better.” He laughs at Jungkook. 

“Stop!” You beg, unable to raise your voice above a soft yelp. 

“What's wrong baby? You wanted two men. Now you have them.” Taehyungs bright smile returns to his face. This time with an entirely different meaning than it had ever had until it shifts into a straight, harsh look that you have never seen from him. “Didn't you always say you wished there was some way you could repay me?” 

“You said that to me too.” Jungkook joins his side, both hovering above you, trapping you between them, the wall, and the floor. 

Leaning down Jungkooks hand follows you as you squirm away from him. His fingers wrapped around your throat and lift you up, keeping you against the wall. He takes advantage of you being stuck, leaning into you pressing his lips to yours as you resist as much as you can. 

“Baby, you’re going to pay us back for every dollar we spent on you.” He snarls. 

Taehyung turns your face to him, also forcing a kiss on you. “Don’t worry, Y/n, you’ll see that we know how to share.”  

Part 2

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [Chapter 1] 

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, dirty talk, masturbation, sex toys, mentions of sexting/sending photos/videos, baby this has hella plot lmao dkhf 🥴💕 WELCOME TO UNTIL I MET YOU!! THE MINI-SEQUEL TO CAFFEINE! A bit of a shorter chapter but I didn’t want to overload with too much everything in the first chapter, ykwim? 😎 Thank you so much for your patience with this sequel, I know there were a ton of people asking for a sequel for months after I said I would 💕😭😭 As always, inbox roundup tomorrow! And don’t forget, next chapter for UIMY goes up on Feb 26th! T|H ch 1 next Friday! 🥰💕 Enjoy ch 1, have a great weekend and I love you! 💕

chapters; 1 - x - x - x - x

“Mmh… Wonwoo…”

His hands roam all over your naked body; warmth spreading all over when he digs his blunt fingernails into the skin of your waist.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Did you miss me, sweetheart?” His voice is soft, gentle, yet teasing; barely above a whisper as your back bows off of the bed to lean into his simple touches. “I missed you, sweetheart. Missed your ‘lil cunt too.”

A choked sob falls from your lips, followed quickly by rushed, hurried cries for Wonwoo to move faster.

“Don’t you want me to take my time? We haven’t seen each other in months.” 

There’s a smirk on his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief when you reply back with a shaky whine. “Don’t you want me to slide my cock into your pretty ‘lil pussy nice ‘n slow? Let you feel every inch of me filling you up, just like it’s the first time all over again.” He stares at you dreamily; fixated on the way your body chases his hands when he drags them down to your thighs. “Or would you prefer it if I fucked you hard and fast? Your cute body squirming and trembling from how good I give it to you and my cock slamming into your tight ‘lil cunt.”

Wonwoo’s fingertips spread your folds as he licks his lips; appreciating how wet you already were for him.

“Bet your toys don’t feel as good as the real thing, huh?”

You shake your head ‘no’ furiously, “N-no, god, no! Wonwoo, p-please!” The male grins down at you, pouting mockingly at your desperate, pleading eyes. 

The wetness between your legs is unbearable and the sobs are caught in your throat when Wonwoo leans over you, lips ghosting across your own.

“Okay. Just say--”

You’re shocked awake by your alarm clock; chest heaving in deep breaths as you sit up in your crumpled sheets. “Oh, fuck...” Groaning, your clammy palms reach for the ringing device as you shut it off and sigh.

The clock reads 10:02AM; tired eyes trying to blink away the sleep that threatens to take you back to the dreamland you much preferred. Although, dreaming about Wonwoo was becoming a little bit too common these last few days.

Sighing once more, you move to get out of bed; already finding your panties soaking wet and sticking to you like a second skin when you stand.

“Ugh... Damn it.”

You press the vibrator harder onto your clit; teeth chattering with the pleasure that pours over your body.

“Oh, god, please, p-please…”

Images of Wonwoo dance behind your eyelids; sultry smirks and teasing glances bringing you closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm.

If there was anything that the last few months without Wonwoo taught you, it was that you couldn’t afford to lose him - in more ways than one. And despite his lack of calls or even text messages, you held out in hopes he still felt the same way that you did despite the distance.

You sent him pictures and videos of yourself often; teasing images half naked, toys in hand, and videos crying out his name while you came. And while he took the time to reply to those with praise and adoration, he almost never sent anything back. 

When he did, it was always short, clipped replies of how exhausted he was and how he didn’t have much time.

“Ngh, h-harder…” Your toes curl against the bedsheet; phantom feelings of his cock fucking you hard and deep making you cry out in desperation to be filled by his cock.

Your phone rings on the nightstand next to you as you cum - vibrator pressed so hard against your clit that your back bows off of the sheets while your thighs shake uncontrollably. 

And for the first time in a long time, it’s an orgasm that feels like it’s worth something.

‘Gyu: hey did wonwoo text u?

‘Gyu: he’s back next monday he said

‘Gyu: idk abt classes tho, might be out of commission for a while bc jetlag

‘Gyu: thinking abt throwing him a party on friday after he comes back...

‘Gyu: u wanna plan with us orrrrr? U got a private party or sth 🥴😏

‘Gyu: lmk

You’re nervous. Shy, even.

After you’d come down from your orgasm and checked your phone, your mind momentarily went blank from shock and the first thing you’d done was text Wonwoo to ask if he was really coming back that soon.

‘Ah, yeah, I was just about to text you. Prof said we can go home early if we wanted since we finished up classes. I’ll see you sometime next week? Jetlag and stuff.’, was all he had said and in your excited state, the only thing you had responded with was an, ‘Okay, great!’, without asking when, where, or what time.

You figured you’d give him some time to readjust instead of bombarding him as soon as he got in. But each second that you knew Wonwoo was home, you found yourself itching to just be in his presence.

You just had to be a little more patient.

Wednesday morning comes and you find yourself skipping your morning class to go to the library.

For studying, you tell yourself.

The male at the receptionist table shoots you a small smile to which you awkwardly smile back before ducking into an empty aisle. All you knew was that it seemed like Wonwoo wasn’t here.

Maybe he’s still at the frat house, you wonder.

Sighing slightly under your breath, you decide that maybe getting some work done would actually help distract you from looking for the male.

You find an empty table, setting your things down before pulling out your phone. 

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were being so shy and nervous about contacting Wonwoo, especially when you so unabashedly sent him nudes every few days when he was away. 

Although, with how things had been before he left and the prospect of actually dating once he came back from his semester abroad - the butterflies in your stomach had been nonstop with the different scenarios that played out in your head. You’d even gone so far as to plan what happened if Wonwoo had decided he didn’t want to make an attempt at dating you.

“Sweetheart?”

The grip you have on your phone only tightens as you whip your head around to find Wonwoo standing behind your chair and you swear your heart stops beating the same time your breath gets caught in your throat. “H-huh?”

He smiles gently down at you and you can’t help but wonder how long you were spaced out to not notice him there. 

“Is this a dream too?” You wonder aloud - Wonwoo chuckling in response as he moves to collect your things for you.

“Have you been dreaming about me that much, sweetheart?” You stutter and stumble over your words; embarrassment eating at you every second that Wonwoo has a knowing smile plastered on his lips.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat since we both know you’re not really here to study.”

The version of Wonwoo that sits across the cafe table is… different.

Not bad, just different.

His arms are much tanner and definitely more muscular and the glasses missing from his face lets you appreciate his eyes even more when they’re not hidden behind the thick frames. He had even opted to wear a sleeveless shirt; something that you weren’t used to when he usually was around campus in long sleeves and sweater vests.

Although, you can’t and won’t deny the way your body reacts to this Wonwoo.

“Hey, I’m talking to you and you’re just spacing out.” Muttering, he leans over the small cafe table until his face is only inches away from yours and the smirk on his lips already lets you know that you’ve been caught staring.

“Listen, I know I’ve been gone for three months but you’re lookin’ at me like you haven’t had a fix in all that time.” Your lips press into an embarrassed firm line, avoiding his stare as he raises a brow at you.

“Wait, you didn’t fuck anyone in the three months I was gone?”

“No… did you?” Your voice is barely above a whisper; a little afraid that his answer will be ‘yes’ when he takes a second longer to respond.

“Nah,” He settles back into his seat, “I told you, didn’t I? I was willing to try the whole… dating, relationship thing with you when I got back. Although, I’m somewhat surprised one of the others didn’t try to seduce you while I was gone.”

You laugh slightly, cheeks warm as Wonwoo teases. “I wouldn’t have given them the time of day anyway.”

Your entire body burns hot, palms clammy in your lap from how giddy you were to be with Wonwoo and it made your heart do backflips knowing that he’d still been willing to try with you.

“Ah, how was it abroad anyway? You… didn’t really say much over the past few months so I feel like I don’t know how you were. Just some messages about how tired you were...” He takes a sip of his coffee; unintentionally making you internally scream when his lips form a pout while he thinks.

“Honestly? Other than the days we were excavating ‘n stuff, it was pretty boring. Really hectic though, and a lot of documenting which meant a lot of paperwork. I swear, I closed my eyes and I saw the inside of my textbooks.” He chuckles lightly, eyes focused on the cup of coffee in front of him.

“I just want to say sorry for my lack of communication. I really didn’t expect to be so busy that I couldn’t even pick up a call.” There’s a genuine apologetic look on Wonwoo’s face when he looks back at you. “And the time difference was really rough too. I didn’t want to take it out on you over the phone if I was stressed about not sleeping or the workload. I know we can get a little rough when we ‘play’ but this wasn’t that and it wouldn’t have been fair.”

Oh.

“T-that’s okay, I understand!” Your heart does somersaults in your chest, “I--thank you for thinking about me too.”

The feelings you have bubbling up inside of you make you feel like you’re falling in love for the first time, all over again. “Um… Sorry I sent so many pictures ‘n stuff.”

Wonwoo laughs, this time throwing his head back slightly before he tries to hide his wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t apologize.” Your eyes meet his and for a split second, you see the familiar dominating look in his eyes before he leans over the small cafe table again.

“I might’ve not had all the time to entertain you those times but I thought about you alllll the time. I missed everything about you.” His voice is barely above a whisper - careful to not let anyone else in the cafe hear the topic of conversation. “Which, by the way…You piqued my interest earlier with your question. You never really answered my question about having dreams about me.”

You shift in your seat as you avert your eyes from his; eyes flitting down his toned body instead as you mentally curse yourself.

“I… kinda? I m-mean… not normally but just--just these last few days. It’s almost been every night… I wake up and--and it’s just… I’m...” You trail off; somewhat shy to say the rest of what you were going to say even though you’re almost certain Wonwoo already knows.

“Odd. Me too. I kept dreaming about you, which is, honestly, kind of why I thought to come back earlier.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, we still had 2 weeks left, technically. A bit of a spillover since my professor wanted us to explore the city once finals were over. But I just wanted to come home.” He finishes with a chuckle - a soft look in his eyes.

You pout back at him, “You didn’t come home early just for ‘lil ‘ol me, did you?” You say it jokingly, but deep down you do wonder.

“Would that be so bad?” Grinning, Wonwoo sets a couple of bills down onto the table to cover the meals you both barely have touched.

“Like I said, I missed everything about you, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo walks you back to your place afterwards; laughing and joking with you as if he hadn’t been gone for the last 3 months. 

There’s a certain playfulness about him that makes your heart bloom and part of you wonders if he’s opening up to you more now that there’d been some time apart.

“Are you gonna be working at the library again? Or is that done forever now?” “Mm.. I mean, it’d be kind of weird if I stopped, don’t you think?”

The grin of his face is telling and you have to mentally stop yourself from letting your mind wander in the middle of the sidewalk. “Y-yeah... Studying in my apartment isn’t really the same, y’know…”

Laughing, Wonwoo takes the opportunity to swing an arm around your shoulder as he tucks you under his arm. “I was actually at the library earlier to ask about my position back. I start tomorrow.” Goosebumps rise on your skin and the close proximity is enough to make you whimper.

“I’m only taking two classes this semester to give myself a bit of a break so I’ll be in the library more often to fill up the time. You can always call me if you need to know where I am. I promise I’ll respond this time, sweetheart.”

Before you know it, the two of you are already standing outside of your complex as Wonwoo takes his arm off of you.

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?” There’s a hopeful lilt to his voice that has you nodding feverishly in return.

“I have a morning class but I’ll come by in the afternoon? I can text you to let you know, just in case.” You offer back.

Wonwoo licks his lips, tilting his head before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead.

The soft gesture momentarily throws you off as you freeze but the smoldering look in Wonwoo’s eyes when he pulls away lets you know that he’s already scheming.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 5: Crimson Pages

Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama

WC: 6k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, mentions of murder, blood, alcohol consumption, kook is an ass, tae is hot af, I think that’s it let me know if I need to add anything else

Tag list: @moonchild1 @hopekookies @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @armyhollander @yoonchrisgullwrites @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous → Next

The sound of pans clanging around in the kitchen brings Jungkook out of the deep slumber he was in. It was the first time in more than a week that he actually got a decent amount of sleep. 

Jungkook groans and rubs his eyes tiredly. 

When he is finally able to orient himself and remember where he is, he squints in the direction of the kitchen to see a shirtless Taehyung digging around in his pantry. 

"The hell are you doing?" Jungkook slurs.

Taehyung turns around when he hears the younger's voice, "Oh, morning Kook."

Then he turns and continues to rummage around noisily. Jungkook sighs and drops his head back down onto his pillow. He flings one of his arms over his eyes to block the sunlight streaming in and reminding him of the precious sleep he just lost. 

After a minute, Taehyung walks over and slaps Jungkook on the stomach.

Jungkook flinches, then groans in annoyance, "What the hell?" He snaps at Tae.

The older boy just smirks down at him, "Do you even eat? There's literally nothing to eat here but ramen and a few mushy apples."

Jungkook rubs his eyes, "What?" 

"Food. Sustenance. You have none." Tae speaks up louder making Jungkook flinch again. 

"If you're gonna complain then get the fuck out," Jungkook mumbles sleepily, turning away from his idiotic friend and closing his eyes again. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes, then slaps Jungkook's ass, hard.

The sleepy boy jerks up and turns to grab at Taehyung angrily, "Leave me alone, asshole!  Go find your own food!" He shouts, slapping at Tae's chest. 

"Come with me."

"No."

"Please."

"Fuck off." Jungkook snarls then lies down again. 

Tae sighs and sits on the edge of Jungkook's bed, "Grumpy butt." He mutters. 

Jungkook turns his head to peek at Tae, then he sighs, "Fine. Get dressed."

"Yippee!" Tae gets up and runs over to where his bag is, pulling out his clothes as fast as he can. Jungkook sighs tiredly and forces himself to get up and dress too. _

"So, when are you supposed to be finished?" Tae asks around a mouthful of food. He and Jungkook are in a small cafe, eating the breakfast that he so graciously offered to pay for. 

Jungkook finishes chewing and swallows before answering him, "They wanted it done within a month."

"A month? That's a big window. Most hits are a few days to a week." Tae muses as he takes another bite of his pancakes. 

"I know," Jungkook mutters, confused himself. They had assured him that a month was expected, even when he told them, again and again, he could get it done within a week at the most. 

Turns out he was wrong. 

There must be something they know that he doesn't.

Jungkook still can't shake the feeling that the target is playing with him somehow. She must be putting on an act to catch him off guard when he least expects it. 

"Sooo," Tae drawls, "Are you going to take a month to get it done?"

Jungkook sends him a glare, "Of course not, why would I waste time on one target?"

Tae shrugs, looking at Jungkook closely as he takes another bite of his food. 

"How long has it been?"

"That's none of your business-"

"Why are you being so secretive all of the sudden?" Tae snaps, making Jungkook glance around to see if anyone is listening to their conversation. 

There are only two other tables with people at the moment and none of them seem interested in anything going on around them outside of their little bubbles. 

Good. 

He turns back to his older friend and whispers fiercely, "Stop being so loud for fuck's sake. Are you trying to let the entire restaurant know what we're talking about?"

Tae just sneers at him before continuing to devour his breakfast, "I bet you a thousand bucks I'll be done with my hit before you're done with yours."

"Fuck off."

"No, I'm serious," Taehyung swallows the chewed-up pancake in his mouth, "I bet you one thousand that I'll be done first."

"No." Jungkook takes another bite, trying to ignore the young man sitting on the other side of the table. 

"What? You scared you'll lose?" Taehyung taunts with a smirk on his face, "Why should someone as good at what he does as you be afraid of a tiny school teacher?"

Jungkook glances up at Taehyung, his eyes burning with anger, "Fine, you know what? I'll take your bet."

Tae drops his fork onto his plate and reaches across the table. When Jungkook takes his hand, he shakes it once, "Deal," Tae says triumphantly. 

Jungkook just shakes his head and goes back to eating. He rolls his eyes when Tae speaks up again, "So, what's your plan?"

"You think I'd tell you?" Jungkook scoffs. 

Taehyung shrugs, stuffing his mouth again. ______________

"Miss ___?"

You look up from the worksheets you were going through at your desk. The kids have been working quietly at their seats with whatever they wanted to do at this time. 

A tiny girl named Minju is looking at you with big brown eyes, her long black hair is in two ponytails, one on each side of her head. You smile at her and set your pen down. 

"How c-can I help you, M-Minju?"

She hands you a picture that she drew, "This is for you." 

You look at it and see a few stick-figure kids smiling and holding hands in a line, at the end of the line is you, smiling and holding onto Minju's hand. You're even wearing your favorite white skirt and peach blouse, along with your chunky tennis shoes. 

A few tears spring to your eyes and you look back at the small girl, "It's b-beautiful Minju. This m-must have taken you s-so long to do!"

She shakes her head and smiles shyly, "It only took me maybe a little bit of time?"

You laugh and hold the picture to your chest, "I l-love it. Thank y-you so much."

She nods again, then she leans in closer to whisper softly, "You know we love you, right Miss ___?" 

You try your best to hold in your tears as you nod, "I love you little d-ducklings too."

"Oh yes, we know!" She whispers enthusiastically before turning and hurrying back to her seat. You smile at her as she sits down and gets to work on another picture. 

You place the picture as carefully as you can into your bag, wanting to frame it when you get home later. You're sure you have a frame somewhere that will fit it. 

The rest of the school day goes by smoothly, nothing much happening besides the kids getting a lot of their school work done. You always give them time to do their homework on Fridays so they don't have to worry about it over the weekend. 

You haven't seen Jungkook for a few days now, ever since you two hung out that day earlier this week. You were starting to wonder if there was something about you that he found annoying, then you reminded yourself of Mina's words to you a few years ago. 

"If someone doesn't like you for who you are, please don't waste your precious time on them, ___. You're worth more than that."

It isn't your problem if someone doesn't like you, you're just going to keep on doing what you do best. And that's being a friend to anyone who wants it.

With that in mind, you pack up your stuff after seeing the kids off and wishing them a good weekend. 

You look up when someone suddenly opens your classroom door, not even bothering to knock. 

When Mr. Baek walks in, you feel your stomach drop. 

"How c-can I help you?" You ask politely. 

He chuckles darkly and you feel a shiver go down your spine when he walks over and sits on the edge of your desk, pushing his glasses up his long nose. 

"Next week is the last week of school," He says casually. 

You nod, "Y-Yes, it is."

He looks at you pointedly, "Are you coming back next year?" 

You swallow thickly, "U-Um, I th-think so."

His demeanor changes suddenly and he glares at you before standing up, knocking some of the papers off your desk as he does. 

Then he leaves without another word, practically slamming the door shut behind him. 

You stare at the door in confusion, wondering what he has always had against you. He hasn't been very pleasant to you ever since you started working here back in August of last year.

You shake it off and finish packing your things. 

When you're all packed up, you peek outside of your door, checking both ways down the halls to see if he's lingering around anywhere. When you don't see him, you slip out of your classroom and hurry down the hall towards the front.

You peek your head out the front too, glancing both ways before coming out and cautiously walking down the front steps. 

Fixing your bag on your shoulder, you hurry down the sidewalk, just wanting to go home and not stop anywhere today. 

"Hey, wait up."

You jump out of your skin at the sound of a voice right behind you. Then you turn and see Jungkook walking closer to you, a look in his eyes that you can't decipher. 

"Heading home?" He asks casually. 

You nod, a smile slowly spreading on your face at the sight of someone who you think might be your friend after all. 

Jungkook smiles at you, but you notice something flash in his eyes before he smothers it and comes closer, "Can I walk you home?" He asks.

You look at him closely, trying to figure him out. When you can't, you nod once again, "Yes, tha-that would be ni-nice. Thank y-you."

Jungkook walks next to you as you continue on your way home. You try your best to think of something to say, but you aren't sure what to ask to make the awkward tension between you two break. 

You glance over at Jungkook and see him watching his feet as he walks. That brings a smile to your face again. 

You look down at your feet and notice how much bigger Jungkook's feet are than yours. Even with your tennis shoes, his feet look huge. 

A tiny giggle escapes your lips and Jungkook lifts his head to look at you.

"What's so funny?" He asks in confusion.

"Oh, n-nothing." You assure him before biting your lip and looking down at your feet again. Jungkook squints at you suspiciously but lets it go. 

When he looks back down he notices that your walking pace has matched with his. 

He looks to the side at you and feels a tiny pinch in his chest when he notices how concentrated you are on trying to make sure your pace matches his. Jungkook forces himself to look away, not liking the feeling that's coming over him all of the sudden. 

Remember why you started this, Jungko-

"Where h-have you been, J-Jungkook?"

He starts at the sudden sound of your voice, then when he regains his composure he laughs sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. 

"I've been busy with work." 

"Oh."

"And an old friend of mine came to town." He explains further, not sure why he feels the need to. 

"Ah, r-really?" You ask enthusiastically, clearly excited for him, "That m-must be so n-nice."

"Meh, he can be a pain." Jungkook chuckles and you smile at that, then you frown. 

"If your f-friend is visiting, you ought t-to be h-home with him."

"Nah, he's fine," Jungkook reassures you quickly, "He's probably just eating my food and watching TV." 

You laugh at that, a bright sound that makes Jungkook genuinely smile for the first time since meeting you. You can see the smile in his eyes. 

Then it's like it vanishes into thin air as he clears his throat.

"Anyway," He mutters, "Want to hang out this weekend?"

You look at your fingers that you are fiddling with, it's a habit you've had for years. Then you nod, "S-Sure, we c-can invite your friend-"

"No, it's fine," Jungkook cuts off your suggestion. For some reason, he doesn't want you to meet Taehyung. 

Or maybe he doesn't want Taehyung to meet you.

Either way, he doesn't like it. 

"I mean," He continues when he sees the look of confusion on your face, "He has something with work this weekend. He's on a business trip right now. So, he doesn't have a ton of time to hang out." Jungkook explains in a rush.

Now he's just rambling.  

He clears his throat and nods, shutting up. 

"Oh, ok." You say simply. 

Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief when you don't push it any further. 

You make it back to your house a little while later, Jungkook walking you up the stairs and right to your door. 

"Thank you, f-for walking me h-home." You say sweetly, smiling at him. Jungkook just nods, then after a moment of silence he speaks up, "So, what time did you want to hang out tomorrow?"

"Um, maybe w-we can meet for l-lunch?" You suggest. 

Jungkook agrees quickly, "Alright, then I'll meet you downstairs at noon." Then he turns and hurries away, just like he always does. 

You laugh at his behavior, wondering why he always seems to be in some kind of rush. Then you go inside, setting your things down before heading to your closet to find that frame you know you have that will fit the picture from Minju perfectly.

-

"Where were you?" 

Jungkook rolls his eyes at the words Tae speaks right as he comes into his apartment, "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was bored all day long." Taehyung pouts.

Jungkook makes a face at him, "Entertain yourself then, idiot. I wasn't even gone for longer than an hour."

Tae watches Jungkook as he pulls his shoes off, "Were you working?" He asks with a lilt to his voice. 

"If you must know, I needed to take a walk alone, without you talking my fucking ear off." Jungkook snaps. 

Taehyung's eyebrows raise to his hairline, "Fuck, someone's grouchy. You on your period, Jeon?"

Jungkook looks up at Tae, dropping his shoes on the ground, an unamused expression painting his features. 

He sees Tae's mouth twitching as he fights the urge to laugh. That just pisses Jungkook off even more. He bends to grab his shoes to put them back on, but Tae jumps up from the couch and hurries over to knock the shoes out of his hand. 

"I was kidding, JK. Jeez."

"Why are you even here?" Jungkook asks in exasperation, "Aren't you supposed to be getting a hit done or something?"

"Don't pretend you don't like having me here," Tae smirks and punches Jungkook lightly on the arm. 

"I don't."

Tae frowns, "You used to be a lot more fun."

"Well, I'm not anymore, so leave me alone." Jungkook brushes past Taehyung to get to the kitchen. But he gets stopped once more when Tae grabs his arm. 

He looks at Tae in annoyance, "What is it?"

"I should be asking you that. The last time I saw you was a year ago and you were my same old Kook. What happened-"

"I grew up, okay?" Jungkook yanks his arm back and continues his trek to the kitchen to scrounge through the fridge. 

"Growing up doesn't equal being an asshole to your best friend," Tae mutters before moving to the couch and plopping down onto it, now in just as much of a funk as Jungkook is.

The younger boy pulls a bottle of soju out of the fridge and glances at his friend sitting on the couch, his brows furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. 

Jungkook purses his mouth before moving over to the couch and holding the bottle out to Tae. 

The older boy looks away in a huff. 

Jungkook sighs, "Look, Tae. I'm sorry, okay?"

Taehyung glances at him, "Sorry for what?"

Jungkook fights the urge to roll his eyes, "For being an asshole." 

Taehyung snatches the bottle and opens it with ease, taking a quick sip before grinning at Jungkook, "Ok. I forgive you, you little shit."

Jungkook's nose twitches in irritation but he doesn't say another word. 

"Well, I'm hungry," Tae says simply, taking another swig. 

"Me too." Jungkook sighs, sitting on the couch. 

"We need to go grocery shopping." Tae looks pointedly at his young friend. 

They sit there in silence for a minute before Jungkook heaves a huge sigh, "We can go on Sunday."

"Why not today?" 

"Because they have a lot more deals on Sunday," Jungkook says, making Tae choke on his next drink. 

"The fuck, Jeon? What are you, an old woman?" He wipes his lips, smiling at the glare Jungkook gives him. 

"No, I just prefer not to spend a fortune on things like food."

Tae shakes his head in disbelief, "Who the fuck are you these days?"

Jungkook just stands up to head to the bathroom, "I'm taking a shower. There's some ramen in the pantry." 

"I'm sick of ramen," Tae moans. 

"Good." ______________

You swipe the lip gloss over your lips gently, not wanting too much. 

You never really wear make-up but you decided you wanted to try it out today and ask Jungkook how it looks. Mina is usually the one to tell you all the things you can do to improve it or tell you how good it looks. Since your best friend won't be back for another three weeks, you suppose Jungkook will have to do. 

You look at the simple look you did, with just a little coverage, some mascara, gloss, and a tiny bit of blush. You think it looks okay, it's definitely a subtle difference. 

Then you hurry to your closet to get out your favorite white skirt. You decide to wear your peach blouse today as well since it always lifts your mood and you could definitely use a mood-lifter. 

When you're finished pulling your clothes on, you look at your phone and notice that it's a little after noon. 

"Oh!" You run out to grab your purse, tripping a little on your own feet before you get on the ground and pull your shoes on. 

By the time you're running down your steps, Jungkook is wondering if you've forgotten your plans as he stands downstairs and looks at the time on his phone. 

Then he looks up to see you bounding down the steps, your hair flying around and your skirt hiked up as you hold it so you don't trip. 

His eyebrows shoot up as you stumble in front of him. 

"So-Sorry I'm late." You huff out as you struggle to get your hair out of your lip gloss where it decided to stick. 

Jungkook shakes his head, "You're not late. I just got here." He isn't sure why he lies to make you feel better, but he does. 

Then he notices that you're wearing make-up. It's not a lot, a very light look. But, it doesn't look that bad-

He shakes his head again to clear it. 

No. No, no, no. 

Jungkook clears his throat as you watch him curiously, "Y-You okay, Jungkook?" 

He nods, "Fine. Let's go."

Then he turns and starts to walk briskly.

You hurry to catch up with him. 

-

"You p-pick the food thi-this time." You say with a smile when he asks you what you want for lunch. 

Jungkook looks around, then he points to a little restaurant, "How about that place?"

Well, that was easy. 

You nod, "Sure! I've n-never been there."

"Me neither," Jungkook admits as you two make your way there. 

You laugh at that and Jungkook finds himself fighting a smile. 

Stop it. 

Stupid. 

Jungkook opens the door and walks in, once again leaving you to grab the door before it hits you. You brush it off and follow him in. 

"Table for two?"

You see a girl in a black and white dress holding two menus and smiling at the two of you. Jungkook nods uncertainly and you two follow her to a table in the middle of the room.  

After you sit, you look around and see a few couples eating at different tables around the restaurant. You look at Jungkook to see he's already looking through the menu. 

"This place is fancier than it looked from the outside," Jungkook says with a frown as he looks over the options. He hadn't meant to take you to a nice place. 

You grab your menu and open it up, almost gasping at the prices. 

Then you look at Jungkook again. He glances up to see your huge eyes peeking at him from over your menu. 

"L-let's get out of h-here." You whisper suddenly. 

"What?" He whispers back. 

You glance behind you to see the waitress coming over with some water for you both. She sets it down and smiles graciously. 

"Would you like to order some other drinks?" She asks politely. 

You look at Jungkook in a panic. 

He gulps and looks back at the waitress cluelessly. You realize he is just out of his element as you are, so you speak up. 

"C-Could we have another m-minute p-please?" 

Her whole face changes when she hears your voice. Her eyebrow twitches and she bites back a laugh as she bows and moves away. 

You have no idea why she did that so you just brush it off, but Jungkook has a feeling it had to do with your stutter. He looks at you as you glance around the fancy room cluelessly, that same feeling coming over him that he got the other day. He pushes it down again. 

Then he jumps a little when you take his menu away from his face and whisper, "C-Come on, let-let's escape while she isn't l-looking." 

Jungkook stares at you like you're crazy when you watch her walk away into the kitchen before jumping out of your chair. 

"We haven't even b-bought anything yet. Co-Come on!" Then you reach over and grab his hand, dragging a very confused Jungkook out of his chair and practically running out of the restaurant. 

You're giggling like a little school girl as you run down the sidewalk, still holding onto Jungkook's hand tightly. He doesn't fight it, just follows you until you run into a small dress shop. 

When you finally let go of his hand, you turn and the smile on your face is bright as you reach a hand up to cover your mouth. You can't seem to stop laughing at the situation. 

Jungkook is frozen in his place, still trying to figure out what just happened. 

"W-We should find somewhere else to eat f-food." You say, still giggling a little.

Finally, Jungkook seems to come out of his shock and nods, "Uh, yeah...where should we go?"

You shrug, "It's s-still your tu-turn to pick." 

Jungkook can't help staring as you blink a few times, looking around the shop, then your head cocks to the side for a second. 

It's almost like you can't control it. 

Then you look back at him and notice him staring at you, making your already pink cheeks turn even pinker. 

"Uh, y-you okay Jungkook?" 

You snap in front of his face and he blinks back into reality, "Oh. Oh yeah, sorry." He rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward that you caught him staring at you. 

You just send him a bright smile and shake your head, blinking hard a few times, "It's okay, I-I b-blank out sometimes t-too." 

Jungkook takes a deep breath and looks out the window, watching people walking by on the sidewalk. 

"Let's just find some food. I'm starving." He mumbles, then he hurries out of the shop, you hot on his heels. 

You two find a small cafe that isn't nearly as fancy as the other place and go inside. 

Jungkook leads you to a table for two and you take a seat. There are already menus on the table and you reach for one. 

Jungkook reaches at the same time and your hand brushes his. He pulls back like you burned him and you look at him apologetically, "S-Sorry."

He just swallows and gestures for you to take one, so you do. 

"Ohh, this looks m-much better." You say happily when you glance over the menu. 

Jungkook mumbles an agreement, relieved you two aren't at the other place anymore. As much as he hates to admit it to himself, he's glad you got both of you out of that. 

You end up ordering a few different dishes that you agree to share so you can try more things. There isn't much talk until the food comes, then you're both too busy stuffing your faces to speak. 

When you've had your fill, you sit back and sigh, rubbing your tummy with your hand. "Ohh, I'm so f-full," You moan, "Lo-Look, I've got a food b-baby!" You exclaim, laughing. 

Jungkook snickers for a second before smothering it and continuing to eat the rest of the food that you can't stomach. 

You frown, wondering why he won't just let himself laugh. Then you decide right then and there that you'll get him to laugh someday, whatever it takes. 

Jungkook ends up asking for a box for the leftovers because apparently, he isn't a bottomless pit like you initially thought. He explains when he sees the confused look on your face, "I was going to bring some back for my friend if that's alright?"

"Oh! Of c-course." You say with a smile. Jungkook wonders again how you can smile so much all the time and not have sore cheeks. 

You and Jungkook bicker for a moment over who pays the bill, then you end up deciding to split it up. Jungkook pays for more than half of it, insisting that he ate more anyway. When the bill is paid and the rest of the food is packed up, you two head out. 

Jungkook looks up at the clouds for a minute before speaking, "So, what should we do now?"

You're quiet for a minute, then you hold up a hand, "I h-have an idea!" 

Jungkook nods, "What is it?"

"F-Follow me." Then you scurry away. 

-

Jungkook looks at you in confusion. 

You had him sit down on a big rock in the nearby park as you dug through your bag. Now, you're finally pulling out a sketch pad and some pencils. 

"Want t-to draw?" You ask happily. 

Jungkook feels a pinch in his chest at the sight of blank paper and colored pencils. He hasn't picked up a colored pencil since he was fifteen years old. 

Since right before this all started...

He snaps out of it when you gently place a blank piece of paper on his lap. Then you pick out all the colors of the rainbow and reach out to grab his hand. You open his hand and place the pencils in his waiting palm. 

Jungkook feels his palms get sweaty when he closes his fingers around the pencils.

"Th-There you go. Now, d-draw whatever you'd l-like." You say, the teacher in you coming out. 

You see a small smile on his face before he again hides it and adjusts himself on the rock. He hands the pencils back to you, pushing them into your hands roughly. 

"I don't want to, thanks though." 

You frown at that, wondering why he's upset all of a sudden. 

"Did I d-do something wro-wrong?" You ask anxiously, aware of his change in behavior. 

"I'm tired is all," Jungkook says as he stands up suddenly, the piece of paper you gave to him floating down next to you on the ground. You take it carefully and place it in your bag along with the pencils. 

"Ok. I'll j-just go home then." You say, picking yourself up off the ground, "You sh-should go get some r-rest, Jungkook." You say kindly, putting your purse over your shoulder. Jungkook doesn't meet your eyes as he nods. 

"See you later," Jungkook says stiffly before turning and walking away. 

You bite your lip, waving goodbye to him even though he can't see you.

-

Jungkook runs up the stairs to his apartment, bursting through the door and tugging his shoes off. He notices that Tae isn't here as he walks over and sits on his bed. 

What the hell is the matter with him?

Why does he feel like this?

Suddenly the door opens and Taehyung struts in, pulling his shoes off and dropping them by the door. Jungkook looks up and does a double-take when he sees his friend. 

Taehyung is in a black and white suit, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the tie loosened and his black hair a bit messed up. He looks rumpled like he was just in a fight. But that isn't what takes Jungkook by surprise. 

His friend is covered in bright red blood.  

And he's smiling brightly, his white teeth a shining contrast against the dark stains on his clothes. 

Jungkook swallows, "What the fuck, Tae?"

Taehyung just grins wider, "I win." 

Jungkook hangs his head, "You came up the damn stairs like that? You fucking dumbass. What if someone saw you?"

"No one saw me, chill JK!" Taehyung walks over and holds his hand out, "I believe you owe me something." 

Jungkook fishes his wallet out of his back pocket and pulls out the amount they promised before shoving it into Tae's bloody chest. 

Then he walks to the kitchen and grabs the to-go box he brought back. He holds it up for Tae to see, "This is for you. Wash up before you eat it though."

Taehyung walks over and touches Jungkook lightly on the chin, "Thanks, sweetie." Jungkook pulls away, feeling something on his face that was on Tae's finger. He reaches up to wipe the blood off of his chin, "Go wash up," He snaps. 

Tae just nods and saunters off into the bathroom. 

A few hours later, Jungkook is in bed and listening to Taehyung rant about how fucking satisfying it was to rid this world of that rapist bastard and how Jungkook should've seen the look on his hit's face when he realized who he was and why he was there. 

"So, how is your hit coming along? How is ___ doing?" Tae asks suddenly. 

Jungkook tenses at the sound of your name, then he remembers that Taehyung saw the file and that's how he knows your name. 

"I'll be done soon," Jungkook assures him quietly. 

"Mm." Tae responds, then he yawns, "What does she look like anyway? I didn't get to see since you tore up the picture."

Jungkook swallows thickly, "Why does it matter?"

"Is she hot?"

"No."

"Come on, I bet she's a fucking cutie. That's why you're so down in the dumps." 

"She's just a fucking idiot. She's annoying, stupid, ugly, and can't even speak correctly." Jungkook huffs out in a single breath before turning on his side and slamming his head down on his pillow again. 

The silence after that is deafening. 

"The fuck you mean she can't speak correctly?" Taehyung guffaws suddenly. 

"It means exactly how it sounds. She's just a worthless nobody." Jungkook spits. 

Tae laughs quietly, "Damn, that's harsh, Kook. Even for you."

"Shut the hell up and go to sleep."

"As you wish. Night, JK."

"Goodnight." Jungkook grits out. 

When he's finally able to drift off to sleep, Jungkook finds himself in an apartment that he's never been in before. His brain tells him that it's his target's place. 

He looks around, wondering why it's so quiet. He walks to the back, looking at all of the childish pictures decorating the walls of the hallway. 

"Hello?" He calls out cautiously. 

When he gets no answer, he walks into the room at the end of the hall. There's a big bed with a giant octopus stuffie on it. Next to the bed is a pair of pink slippers. 

Jungkook turns and walks into the bathroom inside the room, there's no one. When he moves to leave, he sees his reflection in the mirror and freezes.

He's covered in blood. 

A dark crimson color decorating every inch of him. 

Jungkook turns and sees the bed again, but this time, there's someone in it. He walks out of the bathroom and sees a body lying motionless on the mattress. It's also covered in blood. 

His heart rate picks up as he sees sudden flashing images of the target, holding his hand and dragging him out of a restaurant, laughing giddily. Then you're kneeling in front of him on the grass and offering him a blank piece of paper, "You can d-draw anything, Jungkook." You stand up and swing your arms out, "Draw m-me!" 

Then the images are gone and he once again sees the lifeless body on the bed. It's wearing a long white skirt and a peach-colored shirt, their socks are bright pink with frills. He can't stop seeing all of the little details. 

Jungkook stops breathing as he inches closer to see the face.

A feeling of dread washes over him as he steps closer and closer. 

"J-Jungkook?" A small voice whispers somewhere near him, but he doesn't stop walking closer. He needs to see it. He needs to see their face. 

"Jungkook, I th-thought you were m-my friend-"

He swallows thickly his throat suddenly dry as he is about to see the face of the person he just killed. Then someone walks through the bedroom door, he looks up and sees Taehyung smirking, covered in blood as well. 

"Nice, JK. I guess you really had it in you." 

The small voice doesn't stop as Jungkook turns back to see hair covering the girl's face. He reaches over and moves the hair gently-

"J-Jungkook-"

"Jungkook..."

"Jungkook!"

"JUNGKOOK!"

Jungkook shoots straight up, his eyes wide open as he grabs at his chest. He starts to cough while he feels himself, trying to make sure he isn't covered in blood. 

He's in his own bed. 

Fucking hell he's in his own bed.

"Shit, the hell kind of dream were you having?" Taehyung's voice rings out next to him. Jungkook flinches and looks to the side to see Tae sitting on the edge of his bed. 

"You're sweating like a turkey the day before Thanksgiving." Tae laughs.

Jungkook ignores him and stumbles out of bed, trying to get to the bathroom.

Taehyung watches in confusion as Jungkook fumbles his way into the bathroom and then he hears his younger friend fall on the ground before he starts to gag.

"Hey, whoa. You okay, Jeon?" Tae gets up and moves to the bathroom to see Jungkook hunched over the toilet and throwing up whatever was in his stomach. 

The older boy plugs his nose and gags at the sight, "Shit, Kook. Fuck." 

By the time Jungkook's stomach is emptied of its contents, Tae has all the young man's clothes off apart from his boxers and has tossed him into the shower to rinse him clean. Tae gags again at the smell as he rinses Jungkook off before putting some shampoo in his hair and rinsing him again.

"Fucking pain in my ass," Tae mutters angrily. 

Once Jungkook is all cleaned off, Taehyung grabs him some fresh boxers and a pair of sweats to put on. He tosses them on the closed toilet seat and closes the door behind him so Jungkook can get dressed in private. 

A few minutes later, Jungkook comes out of the bathroom, his hair wet but he's clean and in nice new clothes. His cheeks are pink from embarrassment, but Tae just waves it off when he tries to speak. 

"Ah shut up. I know, ya ate something bad. Blah blah blah. We never speak of this again, understood?" 

Jungkook just nods at Tae's words, then he speaks up quietly, "Want to go shopping now?"

The older boy stands up and claps his hands, "Finally! We'll have something to eat around here."

Jungkook is relieved that it's all in the past by the time they get to the grocery store, but that relief is short-lived when he sees a girl in a long pink skirt and light yellow shirt carrying a basket down the candy aisle right in front of them. 

She trips a little on thin air but catches herself, her usual bright smile gracing her features still. 

Then she looks up and sees him, her smile getting wider as she raises her hand to get his attention.

Fucking hell.

____________________

a/n: so sorry its late my loves, but i hope you liked it!

[unwrittenlibrary]

Saturday Sun I

Summary: it’s the beginning of may. mother’s day has come and gone, with your family trip coming up and things are seemingly falling apart even more. you and harry are forced to come head to head with real issues. (harry x fem!reader)

Word Count: 1.3K (second part will be the longer piece) 

Warnings: Angst. Cheating. Find all in depth warnings in the first two parts. 

Notes: hello, part three is divided into two parts, this first one focusing on some conflict & the second part to it will focus more on family dynamic & light resolution. part of this piece has harry’s pov instead of entirely the readers. 

Part One & Two (along with a companion piece) can be found in my h.s masterlist! 

-

i need to ask her

what’s going on?

are we going strong?

May - Part I

It’s the Monday before your flight.

April had come and April had gone and you were still struggling to focus on anything but your kids and issues with Harry. You suppose that’s okay, your next deadline was months away and with the trip coming up all you could focus on were those things. 

Mother’s Day had slipped your mind completely. You were busy making lists and triple checking flight info to even think of asking the kids and Harry about their plans. 

“How was your weekend? Everything went well?” Dr. Walsh’s voice forces you to look up from the new watch that adorns your wrist. 

You glance at Harry, who waits for you to answer. You shrug. “It was nice… Harry and the kids treated me yesterday.” 

The watch is a beautiful rose gold color and is a thin band compared to the band of your last watch. Your kids initials had been engraved onto the inner band. It was, by all means, a lovely and well thought out gift. Not only replacing the watch you had worn for a decade and had finally snapped, but reminding of the best parts of your life. 

“Tell me about your day!” Dr. Walsh smiles kindly. Her eyes move between you and Harry, polite and u judging, before landing on your wrist.

“I got breakfast, at the table, breakfast in bed is too hectic with three kids and a baby.” You laugh softly, thinking of the kids and their not well hidden excitement for your day. “And they all got me gifts. The twins made clay handprints in school. Seph picked out a new wallet for me and even bought it on her own!” 

It’s impossible to contain your happiness that rolls off of you when you talk about the kids. Bragging about their thoughtfulness and kind gifts makes you almost forget where you are.

“That sounds so lovely.” Dr. Walsh brings you back down. Your eyes move to Harry. His eyes are open and he’s smiling softly as you speak. But his fingers are fidgeting in his lap and you know he had hoped you would be proud of his gift too. 

And you were. But maybe that was the worst part. That it was kind hearted and well thought out and so very Harry that you almost hated it. You hated how one small gift had caused a sliver of hope to crawl into your bloodstream and make your heart race for him again. 

That it made you believe, for one brief moment, all his promises and words about never falling out of love with you and never wanting to let you go. 

“Harry got me a watch too.” You finally say, quiet and full of despair. “Mine snapped a few weeks ago… It has the kids initials in it. It was a good day.” 

Dr. Walsh nods. “It’s a lovely watch.” Her eyes move pointedly from it on your wrist to you. “So what’s wrong?” 

You fiddle with it, twisting it on your wrist and tapping the face anxiously. “It feels tainted.” You steadily avoid looking at Harry as you say the words. Dr. Walsh nods, but doesn’t say anything, silently urging you to continue. “I love it. And that… makes me feel guilty. And it makes me feel dumb because one stupid gift made me forget this bullshit for a second and I just felt that love for him again.”

There’s an intake of breath to your right, but Dr. Walsh doesn’t look at all shocked by your words. “It makes sense. You want to be angry. You have a right to be angry and when something gets in the way of that, you’re unsure of how to feel.” 

You nod. Her words make sense. You did want to be angry and after your brief elation with the gift you found you still were. 

“I am going to feel like this for the rest of my life?” You whisper. 

She shakes her head. “No. One day, this anger will be gone. But… it’s up to you whether or not you can get there with each other. If you can forgive Harry and let go of the anger. Or not. Neither is wrong.” 

You nod. Sometimes these sessions felt like she was strictly talking to you. Harry just listened. Spoke up when you asked him to, or when Dr. Walsh worked on exercises. 

A part of you found that it helped. You were able to say things you may not have ever said to Harry. But sometimes it felt like he was unsure if he should try and that made you angrier. 

-

Harry’s hopes are built up and shattered. It’s his own fault, he knows it is. Knows that this was an easily fixable marriage before he fucked up. 

You’ve talked about the cheating a little in therapy. Dr. Walsh has mentioned it, you’ve let your anger out, Harry has apologized. It’s a cycle that seems never ending. He doesn’t know what to do. All he wants so desperately is to fucking fix it. 

But...

The drive has been silent. You stare out the window at cars and buildings that pass. There are bags in the truck rustling around, a last minute stop for last minute items needed for the trip. 

You had been silent in the store too. Quietly checking off your list as Harry pushed the cart behind you. Had his gift upset you this much? You still loving him made you this angry? 

“I… I don’t know what to do.” Harry finally says, forcing his voice to cut through the silence. You startle and turn to look at him. “Tell me what to do.” He pleads. 

He knows you can hear the desperation in his voice. Whether or not you were angry at him, you knew him, you knew his tells and his emotions. 

“What do you want me to say, H?” Your voice is a whisper but still harsh. “I don’t know! I don’t know what you can do! Build a time machine. Don’t cheat on me.” 

“It feels like we’re going in circles.” Harry tries to keep his calm. He wants to keep the anxiety and hurt out of his voice. “Like, you’re angry then you see this chance and there’s hope, then there’s anger again.” 

You scoff. “I’m sorry my pain isn’t linear enough for you! I’m sorry that sometimes I see glimpses of you and I’m reminded of us ten years ago, so in love and oblivious to the outside world. Sorry that it all comes crashing down when I remember that you fucking cheated on me!” 

Harry sighs and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I fucked up so bad. I know. I know. God, what can I do? Anything.” 

“Why did you do it?” You ask instead of answering. There’s a coldness in your words and Harry’s aware you’re both trapped in the car for another twenty minutes. So are you, apparently. “And don’t give me the same bullshit about being selfish and not knowing why and it being a mistake.” 

Harry feels desperation claw at his throat and tears burning in the corner of his eyes. It’s like he can’t breathe, trapped in a coffin of your anger and his guilt. He tries to keep his eyes focused on the road as he talks. “I… I felt wanted. I liked the attention.” 

There’s a sharp intake of breath, but Harry keeps his face forward and eyes focused. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Y/N…” Harry trails off. “I… I can’t.”

You groan and fall forward with your head in your hands. “I need to know, H. I don’t… I just need to know because all I can think about is these what if situations and scenarios in my head. And I’ll just keep running through them until I hate you.”

Harry bites down on his lip and spares a glance at you. “What if… What if I tell you and you hate me anyways?” The question is unfair. He knows it is. But he can’t fathom a world without you in it. A world where he sees you on drop off days and has to plan separate holidays. 

“I don’t know.” You say quietly. But, it feels like answer enough. There’s no reason for you not to leave. 

And Harry guesses a promise to try was never really a promise to stay. 

-

notes: thank you for the patience! i understand this piece is short, this part has been a lil tricky and i wanted to get the first part to may out before summer courses begun. i’m hoping i’m able to continue writing through them, but i will warn readers i am enrolled in two of the three week classes that have a lot of work and move quickly. so patience will be appreciated. i hope everyone is safe & healthy and has a wonderful end of school/university/spring! and congratulations to all the grads these next two months. i’m planning on ending this series with a total of five parts (march, april, may, june, july) w/ two endings.

tags (im tagging a couple ppl who messaged me awhile ago (after the last part), if u dont wanna be tagged anymore let me know! sorry!@alwaysclassyeagle @yourgoldengirls

if u wanna be tagged just message me & let me know if u want it for just this series or for all my h writing! ❤️